#do you think he knows after that. i wonder if looks in the mirror and recognises those eyes. that nose. if he avoids it entirely | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joelmillerisapunk · 4 hours

Text

Beach Daddy III. I can do it with a broken heart

Rich daddy!Joel x F!reader

Series Masterlist • Masterlist

Wordcount: 12,532

Summary: After a day of emotional turmoil, you find solace in a chance encounter with Joel, who invites you to his secret deck.

Warnings: 18+, Joel and reader get closer, Todd does fuckboy things, reader really goes through it in this one, it's like a lil baby soap opera up in here for everyone.

Notes: Welcome, welcome, dear friends. Sorry this is so long. I never know where to end the chapters 😂 so I just add more. Your comments, asks, and reblogs are always so welcome! I appreciate everyone who's in this with me.

You walk out of Amorebelle with light pink clothing bags weighing down each arm, wearing a new outfit. You can't remember a time when you've gotten this many new clothes at once. You also find it hard to wrap your head around the fact that these clothes cost more than you make in an entire year.

The saleswomen Jane and McKenzie won't let you look at the price tags, but as they're ringing up your picks, you catch a glimpse of the total on the computer screen. You can't help but wonder how you'll ever be able to pay Joel back for this shopping trip.

You also can't help but wonder how often he does this for women.

Jane, who's worked at the shop the longest, had recognized him when you walked in the door. You don't have time to contemplate this because you notice a maid you recognize from the yacht. She makes her way to you and starts relieving you of your bags. You make sure to keep the bag with your dress and shoes for the evening.

"Miss, I was told to take these to your room on the ship while you are at your appointment," the maid tells you.

"What appointment?" you ask her, confused.

"You have an appointment at the salon three stores up.”

"Did Joel set this up for me?" you ask, feeling even more surprised.

"Yes, ma'am," the maid says with a smile.

You're glad that the boutique you've been shopping in has a shower where you're able to rinse off before this appointment. They must be used to sandy beachgoers coming in right before a night out.

You make your way up the street and stop at the salon with floor-to-ceiling glass windows. From the outside, you can see the row of chairs, each in front of its own mirror.

You walk in, and the man at the front desk assures you that you do, in fact, have an appointment, full hair, and makeup, which is all prepaid.

The receptionist walks you back to your stylist, an attractive man whose hair color matches yours. "What do you have in mind today, sweetheart," your stylist asks you.

"I'm honestly not sure. Can I leave it up to you?" you ask.

"That's my favorite request," he says as he runs his fingers through your hair. "Your natural coloring is gorgeous, obviously, I am not going to touch that. So, I'm thinking a quick trim and a blowout."

He has your hair and makeup done within an hour, and you barely recognize yourself in the mirror. You're amazed that your hair is perfectly smooth, with not a single strand of frizz to be found. You gently run your fingers through your hair and can't believe how soft it is.

"What do you think?" the stylist asks you. He hands you a small mirror and turns you in the chair so you can get a better view of the back of your hair.

"Is this really my hair?" you ask, holding up the smaller mirror.

"Of course, sweetheart. You look amazing," he says with a smile.

"I didn't know I could love my hair this much.” You admit.

"So, go enjoy it!" he says with a huge smile.

"I will. I love it. Thank you so much," you say enthusiastically.

You walk out of the salon's front door in your midnight blue silk dress with shining hair, and you feel amazing. For the first time since the breakup, you feel like you can do a whole lot better than Todd.

"All I can say is wow," says Joel. He's been waiting for you outside of the salon.

"I hardly recognize myself," you say with a laugh.

"I wasn't commenting on the dress or your hair. I was impressed by your confidence. It looks good on you darlin," Joel says, looking you up and down unabashedly.

You feel your cheeks get hot. You don't understand how Joel always says exactly what you need to hear.

"But, I do have to admit I was right about that dress; it does look amazing on you," Joel says with a wink.

"I don't know how to thank you–" but Joel cuts you off before you can finish thanking him.

"Please, you don't need to finish what you were about to say. You deserved it. Simple as that."

"Okay," you say with a smile. "Well, then I just want you to know that today has been the best day I have had in a long time." You like that Joel isn't the kind of man who gives gifts because he likes the praise that follows.

"The restaurant is just a few blocks over. I can call for a ride," he says, pulling out his phone.

"Yeah, we could get a ride over," you say and grab his phone. "But, it's such a beautiful night; why don't we walk?" It is a beautiful night, but if you're being honest with yourself, you want to walk to soak up as much time alone with Joel as you can.

Joel smiles and offers you his arm. You notice his new suit jacket goes perfectly with your new dress. You bite your lip to keep yourself from asking if he picked it on purpose, but you secretly hope he had.

"This town is beautiful; I'm surprised that it isn't busier," you say, looking up at the bistro lights strung across the streets in a zig-zag pattern. The light is just barely fading, and the cool breeze catches the slit in your dress, making the end lightly flutter around your ankles as you walk.

"It is a well-kept secret," Joel says.

"For the rich and famous?" you ask.

"Well, kinda, but the locals who live here are what make this place so amazing. The restaurant we’re headed to has some of the best food I've ever eaten. But the chef is just a local man who perfected his art form. Never went to culinary school; just cooked because he loved it."

"How do you know all that about him?" you ask.

"My family has vacationed here for as long as I can remember. When I got tired of listening to my parents argue, I would go exploring the island. I’ve gotten to know a lot of the locals over the years," he explains.

You walk up to a building with a large illuminated sign reading The Coastal Hibiscus. The restaurant has a large deck area with a perfect view of the ocean. As you make your way up the front steps, you drop your hand from Joel's arm, not wanting Sarah to get the wrong idea.

You arrive at the restaurant last, finding the entire party already seated. As you enter, the conversation slows, and Todd's gaze locks onto you, a sense of satisfaction washing over you from the look on his face.

Only two seats remain, so you sit between Alison and Hudson. Joel takes a seat directly across from you, next to his daughter.

"I love that dress on you, by the way." Alison says with a little smile.

"Thanks," you reply as the waiter distributes menus.

"Where did you take off to? I haven't seen you since you went with Sarah's dad to find the dolphins," Alison asks.

"Oh, we never found them, so we just drove around for a long time looking for them," you lie, staring intently at the menu. You don't want to share the details of the intimate day you spent with Joel.

"That's too bad," Alison says, joining the group's conversation about where everyone plans to 'winter' that year.

You continue to look at your menu, overwhelmed by the number of choices. Finally, you look up to see Joel staring at you. You silently mouth 'What should I get?' across the table.

He smiles at you and mouths back 'The lobster.'

When the food arrives, you're grateful for his suggestion. His choice is amazing; the lobster is cooked so well that it feels like it melts in your mouth.

You sit peacefully sipping a glass of wine and listening to the group's conversation, stealing glances at Joel. The waiter brings around dessert menus, and you order a slice of cheesecake, one of your favorites.

A few minutes later, the waiter sets a piece of cheesecake in front of you, and placed delicately in the whipped cream is a stunning cushion cut diamond engagement ring. Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart stops. As you try to make sense of what's happening, you hear Todd whisper angrily to the waiter, "No, not her!"

No one seems to notice the mix-up, and a few seconds later, the engagement ring cheesecake is placed in front of Sarah instead. Her small squeak alerts the rest of the table to what's going on.

"Sarah, will you make me the luckiest man in the world? Will you marry me," Todd says, down on one knee next to Sarah.

"Of course, I will." Sarah immediately answers. She jumps up and hugs Todd, all the while letting out ear-piercing squeals.

You look across the table and see Joel's eyes locked on you. Did he see them place the ring in front of you and your reaction to it?

The restaurant feels like it's closing in around you. You have to get out. You quietly slide your chair away from the table, leaving your ringless cheesecake untouched, and walk out into the open air. You start walking toward the ocean; the water has turned from a vibrant blue to an ominous black. The glassy surface reflects the light of the moon, which sits alone in the sea of darkness.

You continue walking, your feet aching in the heels, but to your relief, you recognize the yacht docked in a nearby marina. The crew must have sailed over to this marina to drop off the rest of the group while Joel and you were in the shops. So you make your way towards it. However, even before you reach the docks, the tears have already started falling down your face. You wipe them away quickly, not wanting to stain your new dress. The sound of footsteps behind you has you hurrying to the yacht. Whoever is following you, you do not want to speak to them–not now.

Not even if it's Joel.

—

"Todd, I'm so glad we finally get to spend some time together. It seems like I barely get to see you anymore. I'm so sorry I've been so busy," you said, smiling at your fantastic boyfriend. You really missed him, but with graduation so close, you had to put all of your efforts into studying.

"I'm glad you finally found some time for me," Todd said in a flat tone. You guessed you deserved that, but the comment still stung.

"Where do you want to go eat? I heard there’s a great new sushi place just a few blocks over," you said, trying to switch the mood to a more positive one.

"Yeah, that works," Todd muttered as he pulled out his phone to send a text.

You started walking over, but you couldn't help but feel like something was off, and you relaxed as Todd's fingers locked with yours.

"So, how’s work going?" you asked. Todd had graduated with his Bachelor's degree the year before and started working for his dad's financial firm after that.

"It's been great. You would not believe some of the people I help with their investments. Every single one of them was a millionaire before they were thirty. That is going to be me; just you wait."

"I know you will be, Todd," you said as the hostess showed you to your table. "If anyone can make it happen, you will."

"It wouldn't hurt to have a rich wife. Then, we'd become millionaires together," Todd said and smiled at you. He had always been so proud of the fact that you were working towards being a lawyer. You were so relieved that he recognized your time studying was for your future together.

The waiter walked over to your table and asked if you were ready to order. Todd ordered multiple plates of sushi, and then the waiter turned to you.

"I'll have an order of the California rolls and a water," you handed the menu back to the waiter and looked up to see Todd with a strange expression on his face.

"California rolls?" Todd asked as the waiter walked away.

"It's the best deal on the menu. I'm saving for my books. I don't know if I’ll be able to qualify for another loan," you said, slightly defensive. You knew Todd hated how cheap you were, but you had to be if you were going to be able to afford to put yourself through school. You knew he didn't understand; his dad paid for his education.

Todd pulled out his phone again and sent another text. You tried not to let it bother you; it was probably something for work.

You spent the rest of dinner talking about the different investments Todd was making on others' behalf and how one of his clients had just purchased their first private island.

"I'm going to run to the restroom before we head out," Todd said and got up, not realizing he had left his phone sitting face up on the table.

As soon as he walked away, his screen lit up with a text message. All you could see from where you sat was the contact name, 'Her.' Your heart sank.

The screen went black, and you took a deep breath. Todd walked back from the restroom, smiling at you.

"You ready to go?" he asked you as he made it to your table.

"Absolutely."

"Why don't we catch a movie?" Todd asked, grabbing your hand again as you walked out of the restaurant.

"Sure. What do you want to go see?”

—

You slam the door of your room and rest your back against it, catching your breath. You had to get away from whoever was following you out of the restaurant. You can't face anyone after witnessing Todd's engagement to someone else. You take a few minutes to catch your breath, and when a soft knock on the door vibrates your back, you ignore it. The person doesn't knock again.

Your dress clings to your sweaty body, and you want nothing more than to take it off. You slip off the midnight blue silk gown and drape it over the chair in front of the vanity. Noticing the pink garment bags already hung neatly in your closet, you secretly wish that you fit in this world, this world of money. But you know deep down that you don't.

You walk past all of the new clothes and throw back on your usual attire of shorts and a T-shirt; you can't get comfortable in the fancy clothes. You make your way over to your bed and throw yourself on the comforter. Burying your face in the pillow and let the tears come. You cry until your eyes burn. You sit up in bed and wonder where everything went wrong with Todd and you. You had truly been in love with him. You had planned a future together, and even though he never spoke directly of marrying you, you always assumed it would happen one day. So when the waiter placed his engagement ring in front of you perched on a pillow of whipped cream, it hurt even more.

Your roommate had been suspicious of Todd cheating on you for months before you read that text. You went on pretending your relationship was stable, even though deep down, you suspected him, too, especially after the incident at the sushi restaurant.

You didn't confront him about the text until weeks later. He denied everything at first, saying it was his father's receptionist. She was a bitter older woman who was not the kind of woman you wanted to cross. He put the receptionist in his phone as 'her' as a joke.

You knew he was lying, but you were okay to keep on pretending. That was until you caught him texting 'her' again, right in front of you. Then, you exploded, and you got into your worst fight. He finally came clean that it was a woman he met at your birthday party.

He swore he wasn't cheating and that she was just a friend. You promised that you would work it out even if he was cheating on you, but he wasn't interested in that. He was no longer interested in you. He broke up with you the very next day.

With the memories replaying in your mind, you jump out of bed and run to the balcony. You breathe in quick gasps of the cold sea air. You just realized that you had invited Sarah to your birthday party. Todd had met her there, and they had been in contact ever since. Sarah told you that she'd been dating Todd for four months, but your birthday party was eight months ago. So Todd had been pursuing Sarah for eight months while he was still pretending to be faithful to you.

'It wouldn't hurt to have a rich wife; then we'd become millionaires together.' Todd's words ring through your memories. He hadn't been talking about you becoming a lawyer and the two of you becoming wealthy together. He had been talking about marrying Sarah, an heiress. This had been his plan all along.

This night of realization has your head hammering, and you need to calm down. So you walk back into your room, slip on your shoes, and walk out your door. You’re going to go out to the bar on the deck and make yourself a drink. The lights on the deck are already out, but you quickly realize you’re not there alone.

"Oh, Todd!" Sarah moans.

"You are so damn sexy!"

Two shadowy figures are pressed together in the pool, waves rippling around them, and you quickly realize you have just interrupted Sarah and Todd's after-engagement celebration. You immediately freeze on the spot.

Their moans grow louder, and you try to retreat before either of them sees you. Unfortunately, you don't notice the lounge chair behind you in the dark and topple over it in your rush to get away. You land flat on your back, and all the air is knocked out of your lungs.

"What the hell? Who's there?" Todd's voice yells behind you.

You pray it’s too dark for them to see or recognize you. Then, you start crawling back towards the door, and as soon as you think you are out of sight, you stand up quickly and run. Once you get through the door, you keep running down the hall, the tears stinging your eyes. You are humiliated, heartbroken, and defeated.

You get to a set of stairs and immediately start climbing as many floors as you can. You have to get as far away from the pool as possible. It’s bad enough knowing Todd is sleeping with Sarah, possibly for eight months, but to see it first hand is too much.

You end up in front of an elevator, and just as you stop to catch your breath, the doors slide open.

"Hey darlin? Are you okay?"

It's Joel. All you want to do is to run into his arms and feel his warmth surround you. But instead, you simply nod and turn to walk away. How could you possibly explain what you just witnessed? Sarah is still his daughter.

"I don't believe you. Somethin’ is wrong. I came to check on you earlier.”

—

Joel hands you a glass of red wine, and you follow him out onto his private deck. The elevator has led up to his room, and Joel, noticing your state, invites you up.

You lean over the railing and swirl the wine in the glass.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Joel asks with a note of concern in his voice.

"Nothing happened; I was just tired," you reply.

"You were so tired that you ran all the way back to the yacht?" Joel asks, clearly not believing you.

You don't say anything and take a small sip of your wine.

"And in the hallway just now? You seemed pretty upset," Joel says.

"I promise, I'm fine, but thank you," you say, trying to muster up a small smile.

Joel does not look convinced, but he lets the topic go. You both stand looking over the ocean for a long time in complete silence. The yacht has left the small island, and so the waves are bubbling lazily behind the propellers.

"When do we make port again?" you ask, finally breaking the silence.

"Tomorrow," Joel replies.

"I’m gonna miss you, Joel," you say quietly.

"What are you talking about, darlin?" Joel says as his eyebrows knit together in concern.

"I'm going to catch a flight back to New York tomorrow.”

Joel stares at you for a long time after saying that you’ll be leaving when you get to port the next day. Or at least you hope you will be. You don't even know where you will be, let alone if there is an airport or a ticket home you can afford.

"I would really hate to see you go, darlin," Joel says with a serious look on his face.

"I think it's for the best," you answer softly.

"The best for you?" he asks. You stay quiet for a long time. Are you deciding what is best for you and/or running from your problems?

"I don't know… " you answer truthfully.

You take another small sip of the wine Joel had poured you and watch the liquid as you swirl it around in your glass.

"You know wine always tastes better in the sauna," Joel says, watching you.

You turn to him, "That does sound nice, but I’m sure the staff who work the spa have already gone to bed."

"Well, good thing the sauna is in my bathroom," he says as the corners of his mouth ease into a smile.

"You have a sauna in your bathroom?" you ask, impressed.

"Of course, so what do you say?"

"I'm not really dressed for a sauna," you gesture down to your shorts and T-shirt.

"I have a robe that you can borrow unless you'd rather go without." Joel winks and starts walking away to grab the robe.

"So what else do you have up here all to yourself?" you ask, liking the distraction from the mess of a night you've been through.

—

You walk through a large sitting room, a bedroom with the biggest bed you've ever seen, and then finally to the bathroom. Joel calling the tub in his bathroom a soaking tub is an understatement; it's more like a small swimming pool sunken in the middle of the floor.

"You can get changed here." Joel leads you into an extravagant walk-in closet, complete with a large vanity table and chaise lounge. He hangs a white cotton robe on a hook next to the door, making it the only garment in the empty closet. You realize Joel's room must include his and her's closets, but Joel has no use for this one.

You undress down to nothing and slip the buttery soft robe over your skin. You could live in this robe. There are definitely some amazing perks to being rich. You walk out of the closet, and Joel is waiting for you in a matching cotton robe.

"See, it's a perfect fit," he says.

"I don't even want to know how much one of these robes costs," you say.

Joel laughs a little at your comment. "The sauna is through this door here," Joel says and pushes the door next to him open, holding it for you to enter first.

You don't know what you've been expecting when Joel had said he had a sauna in his bathroom, but the sauna you walk into is more than you could have ever imagined.

Every inch of the room is covered in light wood. The benches look as though they conform perfectly to your body and are accented with white pillows. The steam is warm and envelops you as soon as you walk into the room. However, the most breathtaking part of the sauna is the floor-to-ceiling window. It makes it feel like the sauna is open to the ocean itself, and the dark water reflecting the dim light of the room is extremely romantic.

"How do you ever leave?" you ask after a few speechless seconds.

Joel laughs again and takes a seat in the center of the bench, staring out into the dark water. You sit next to him and realize you might be too close, so you try to scoot away subtly.

"I don't bite, darlin."

You laugh awkwardly but remain close enough to feel the heat of his body next to yours. You close your eyes and try to let go of the evening. You think about watching the dolphins swimming in the cove while Joel sits next to you on the jet ski.

"You look like you're feeling a little better," Joel whispers.

"I am. This is exactly what I needed." You pause for a few seconds and add, "You keep saving me today."

"You've saved me on this trip too. Can I tell you a secret?" he asks, leaning in closer to you.

"Of course," you answer, and your heart starts beating faster.

"The rest of Sarah's friends drive me insane."

"That's your secret?" you bump his shoulder with yours. "That’s a really weak secret. They drive me insane too."

"If that’s not a secret, then tell me a better one," he says.

"What kind of secret?"

"Tell me why you’re leaving tomorrow?" he asks and looks into your eyes.

You pause, considering if you should tell him the truth, but he is getting Todd as a son-in-law. So you choose a different path.

"I can't afford to stay," you say finally. Taking Joel's silence as confusion, you elaborate, "I'm completely broke. I've put all of my money into school. I work as a bartender and live off of my tips and ramen noodles."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand why that means you need to leave tomorrow," Joel says somberly.

That’s a fair point; Sarah and her father have paid for absolutely everything. It isn't costing you anything to stay on this once-in-a-lifetime vacation. You need to come up with a reason to leave before he sees through the holes in your story.

"I have to get back to New York, get ready to move to Cambridge, and find a job there before the semester starts. I only have a few weeks of living costs saved up." This is partly true; you do need to do all of those things, but going back early would actually complicate things for you. You can't move into your new apartment in Cambridge until two weeks before the semester starts. So going back early would just mean you'd sit in your old apartment with nothing to do. Plus, if you went back early, you would have a few more weeks of expenses to take care of, and you already quit your job.

"What if I could help you find a new position in Cambridge?" Joel asks.

"What do you mean?" you ask, surprised.

"I have some connections in Cambridge; if I helped you get a few interviews, would you be able to stay longer?"

You can't find any words to respond. You've been really worried about what you would do for work when you got to Cambridge. You don't know anyone there and planned on spending the two weeks before the semester handing in resumes at different restaurants.

"You would do that for me?" you ask.

"Absolutely. I’ll make some calls in the morning. You don't have to stay, but I would enjoy your company if you did. The Bahamas are beautiful this time of year. I don't want you to miss it."

"Okay, I'll stay," you say quietly. "Thank you, Joel."

You can't believe this man's kindness to you. If it's important to Joel that you stay on the trip, then you will figure out how to deal with Todd and Sarah for a little while longer.

"I'm glad to hear it," he says with a smile.

The sky starts to lighten in the early morning hours, so you stand and tell him, "I should head back down to my own room and get some rest."

"Probably a good idea," he says and follows you out of the sauna.

You go back into the massive closet and change back into your clothes, hanging the robe back on the hook. You walk back out into the main room, and Joel is waiting for you, still in his robe.

"Let me walk you down."

"That's really okay. You’ve done so much for me already," you say.

"How long will you stay?"

"I'm not sure. At least another week." You smile at Joel and walk out the door.

***

Joel shuts the door behind you as you walk down the hall. He's relieved that he convinced you to stay for at least another week, but he knows there's something else that's the real cause for you being so upset tonight.

He knows that you're not part of Sarah's usual friend group, but after talking to you tonight, he's confused about how you're even friends at all. You clearly have big goals and work hard to see them happen. Sarah doesn't have any goals other than becoming an 'influencer.'

The thought of you working at every spare moment to put yourself through school makes his stomach twist at how badly he's spoiled Sarah. You deserve so much better than to be just scraping by. He would do anything he could to help you find something better. Hell, he would have offered to pay for your tuition, too, if he thought you would accept it.

Joel pulls out his phone and sends an email to the connection he has at a law firm in Cambridge. He's done some business with them in the past and figures it would be a much better fit for you than making people drinks. With how much business he's given the firm, he knows he can at least get you an interview.

On his home screen, there's a notification of a phone call from his financial advisor, Alester, that he missed while he was in the sauna with you. Alester never calls at this hour, so he knows something is wrong. Joel calls him back immediately, waiting impatiently to hear his voice on the other end.

“Joel, I am so sorry for the early hour," Alester says.

“No need to apologize; what's going on?" He asks urgently.

“I am afraid it is not good news.”

“Just tell me, Alester," he says, doing his best not to get impatient with the man. He's worked for Joel for years, and Joel trusts him with his life. There's an infuriatingly long pause on Alester's end. He sighs before he finally responds. “Blaine is back, sir."

***

The sun is streaming through the glass doors of the balcony as you finally open your eyes. Your head is pounding from a lack of sleep and caffeine. You want to order coffee up to your room, but you need to shower too badly to wait. After running all the way to the yacht and then sitting in the sauna with Joel, you are salty with dried sweat. You probably should have showered last night, but, after reaching your room in the early morning hours, you collapsed on the bed and had fallen asleep in your clothes.

You walk into the bathroom, expecting to look like a mess from all the events of the night, your clothes are extremely wrinkled, but you are surprised to see your hair still looks flawless. "I wish I could afford to get a blowout more often," you say to your reflection, pulling on a few strands as you admire the style.

You put your hair up and step into the hot water of the shower, washing off the previous day. You stand under the steaming water until you are getting a little dizzy from the heat. As you stand there, you can't help but think about Joel. He's been so kind to you, and you can't help but wonder if there's a chance he wants more from your relationship than what one would typically expect between a man and a friend of his daughter's. You shake your head. You can't allow yourself to think that way. Joel lives in a world you know nothing about. Not only is he much older than you, he is also Sarah's dad. Besides, he can have any woman he wants. Why would he want you?

Returning your thoughts to reality, you finish rinsing your hair and turn off the water. You wrap a towel around yourself, and make your way back into the bedroom to cool down.

The screen of your phone is illuminated, so you pick it up and lounge back on the bed. You have several notifications from the group chat between you and your roommates, Aubrey and Lin. You know you need to let them know what's going on.

Aubrey: Hey? Are you still alive? We haven't heard from you in days.

Lin: Maybe she finally found herself a rebound, and that’s why she’s too busy for us. My guess is a sexy pool boy!

You: Sorry, you two. Signal has been spotty. A sexy pool boy, Lin? Is that your guess or your fantasy?

Lin: I think a sexy pool boy should be everyone’s fantasy. ‘Pool boy, refresh my drink, and while you are at it, come rub me down with some tanning lotion.’

Aubrey: Lin, you’re the reason I can’t let Gianni read our group messages!

Lin: Sorry, we aren’t as lucky as you to have an amazing boyfriend who kisses the ground we walk on. Some of us have to use our imaginations.

You: I miss you two so much! I wish you were here with me.

Aubrey: How is everything going? Is the boat as big as we are imagining?

You: Honestly, it is probably bigger than you’re imagining. It’s not so much a boat as it is a super yacht. The bathroom in my room is as big as our entire apartment, and I’m just in a guest room. I have my own private balcony! Oh, and yesterday, I got to see a pod of dolphins!

Lin: Dolphins? How cool! I wish I had a rich friend who took me on expensive vacations.

You: Yeah, it sounds good in theory, but in reality, that rich friend was the one sleeping with my boyfriend for months.

Aubrey: Sarah was the one Todd was cheating on you with?! Why didn’t you lead with that?

You: Oh, that’s not even the worst part. Todd is here on the yacht too. We had already left port when I found out, so I’ve been stuck here with him.

Lin: No way! What the hell did that scumbag have to say for himself when he saw you?

You: Well, he pretended not to know who I am, and I went along with it.

Aubrey: I’m so sorry!

Lin: Why didn’t you call him out?

You: I probably should have, but I didn’t want to make things awkward. Like I said before, I am literally stuck on a boat with these people. Plus, Sarah clearly doesn’t know. I didn’t want to hurt her.

Aubrey: That makes sense. Maybe she will dump him before things get too serious.

You: Oh, one more thing, they got engaged at dinner last night. I had a front row seat for the entire thing. And then their after party.

Aubrey: Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you? I don’t know exactly how I would find you, but you know I would figure it out.

You: Thanks Aubrey, but I’m okay.

Lin: Shit, this is really messed up. What do you mean by ‘you had a front row seat to their after party?’

You: I walked out to the pool deck and caught them having sex in the pool. Then I tripped over a deck chair trying to get out of there.

Lin: Did they catch you?

You: I still don’t know. I really hope not. I don’t know how I would show my face in front of either of them again if they did.

Aubrey: How did Todd even meet Sarah? It’s not like your social circles mix very well.

You: I was thinking about that a lot last night. I am pretty sure that they met at my birthday party.

Lin: So you're telling me when we were all celebrating you, Todd was off hitting on someone else?

You: Pretty much. I’m realizing a lot about who Todd really is. I think his whole plan was to find someone rich. I was thinking about it last night. I remember that towards the end of our relationship, he made lots of comments about how poor I am.

Aubrey: You’re not poor! You’re a college student just trying to make it through school.

Lin: Isn’t Sarah the one who dropped out sophomore year to become an influencer?

You: Yes, that is Sarah. She does actually have a big social media following. And as you both know, she comes from a lot of money.

Lin: Well, that’s pretty easy when you can buy whatever you want and post pictures of yourself on your dad’s billion dollar yacht.

Aubrey: So how long until you get back?

You: I think I’m staying another week. We’re sailing to the Bahamas. I was told that we will make port tonight.

Lin: Well, that sounds amazing. Do you know what you’re going to be doing?

You: I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to ask Joel what has been planned.

Lin: Oh, who is Joel?

You: Joel is just a friend.

Aubrey: I’m glad to hear at least you’re making friends. Then you have a way to escape from Sarah and Todd.

Lin: Me too. Any pool boys?

You: Haha Lin! Very funny. No, I have not made friends with any of the pool boys.

Lin: Well, maybe you should. There is no better way to get over someone than getting under someone.

Aubrey: I hate to say it, but I agree with Lin. Go get some! There have to be some island hotties at one of your stops.

You: I can’t believe you two. I have to go. Someone is knocking at my door. I miss you two so much!

Chuckling at the antics of your two best friends, you set your phone down on the bedside table, smiling to yourself. It's good to know that you have at least two friends you can count on for anything.

You wrap your towel tight around you and check the peephole in the door, relieved to see a maid at your door and not someone else since you're not even dressed yet. You open the door and are surprised to see she's holding a tray and a box in her arms.

"Good morning, Miss," the maid says with a friendly smile on her face.

Confused, you return her smile but look suspiciously at the items she's holding. "Good morning. I think there may have been a mix-up. I didn't call down for anything."

"Don't worry. There was no mix-up," she assures you, taking a step through the open door. "Where would you like me to set this?" she asks.

You open the door wider and let her in to set the tray down on the table. She sets the box gently on the bed and turns to exit, still smiling at you.

"Do you know who sent this?" you ask, tracking the woman with your eyes as she steps away from the bed. However, she does not answer your question. Instead, she continues to proceed to the door with a small knowing smile on her face that makes you wonder what she knows that you don't.

"Have a good day, Miss," she says, giving a small head nod as she flashes you one last grin.

"Thank you," you say and close the door behind her.

You make your way over to the tray first. Lifting the cover, you find a stack of pancakes and a side of bacon and eggs. There's also a small pot of coffee and a fluffy pastry. Your mouth is already watering at the sight of the food, and you inhale deeply, closing your eyes and imagining how good it will all taste, but you replace the cover.

The anticipation for what the box could contain is too great.

The box is tied close with a red ribbon, so you untie it and set it to the side. You remove the lid to the box and are surprised to find a white cotton robe. Immediately, a smile crosses your face, and a small giggle of glee escapes your lips. There's a small handwritten note resting on top.

Darlin,

Please meet me on our secret deck later this evening. Enjoy some time to yourself.

P.S. I wanted you to be comfortable.

Sincerely,

Joel.

You set the card down on the nightstand, right next to the little pink seashell, and you slip on the robe. It's even softer than the night before, if that's possible, and it smells like sandalwood - It smells like Joel.

The clock reads 4:30 pm before you finally get out of bed and dress for the day. You pick out a form-fitting sundress with a delicate blue shell pattern along the hemline. It's one of the pieces that Joel purchased for you at Amorebelle. You aren't used to wearing dresses, but you want to look nice when you see him.

You carefully do your makeup at the vanity table in your bathroom. As you step back and look in the mirror, you are impressed with your own appearance; you look like you belong – almost.

You make your way to Joel's secret deck. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you get closer. You stop as you round the corner to the private location; all you can see is the back of Joel's head as he holds a phone to his ear. The muscles in his shoulders are tense, and you can tell by his low tone that the conversation is not a pleasant one.

"What do you mean he’s threatening to contact members of the family?" You hear Joel say. "He has demands now? What are his demands?"

There is a long pause after what Joel says, and you watch him running a hand through his hair; he seems to be on edge. He listens carefully to whoever he is talking to, and you consider turning around.

"We need to start protecting the family assets. I need you to review my father's will again and ensure it is airtight. He will not get a dime out of me."

You know you should turn around and give Joel privacy, but your curiosity gets the better of you when he starts talking about his family. You lean against the railing to wait, and it squeaks. It squeaks loudly.

Joel turns his head and gives you a small half-smile. He waves his hand, gesturing for you to come to join him. You hesitantly walk over, taking as much time as possible.

"I agree that's a good plan. Lock everything down, and let me know if we get any more calls from him. I'm counting on you, Alester. Don't let me down," Joel says. He hangs up the phone and sets it on the table next to the lounge chair he is sitting in. He sighs, turns to the laptop sitting next to him, and starts typing.

"Hey, I hope I am not interrupting anything," you say and slowly walk up to him.

"Darlin," Joel says as he closes the laptop and turns to face you. "You're not interrupting anything; I was just getting caught up on some work stuff."

"I just noticed you were on the phone, and I didn't want to interrupt a business call or something," you say, trying to explain why you were leaning against the railing and eavesdropping on his phone call.

"Oh, that wasn't business. I just needed to deal with some family issues," he says as he moves a white and blue striped towel and a bottle of tanning lotion off of the lounge chair next to him, gesturing for you to take a seat.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks, and a natural smile finally mirrors in his eyes.

"I am because of you. Thank you so much for sending me breakfast, and that robe was amazing. I honestly can't remember the last time I let myself lay around in bed all day. I really enjoyed it," you say and sit as gracefully as you can manage in the lounge chair next to Joel.

"Good to hear. You deserved a day to relax like that. You don't need to thank me for the robe; after seeing you in it last night, I knew it belonged to you. It looked like it was made for you, so it was only right that I send it down to you," he says.

His words make your heart beat fast again, and your face flushes. You know you are getting too close to your friend's very handsome and single father than is wise. But, when he says things like that, it is hard not to.

You think about telling him the truth about why you were so upset, but you don't want to ruin the fun you're having together by unloading about your ex-boyfriend, who is about to be his son-in-law.

"So, are you excited to walk your daughter down the aisle?" you ask, quickly trying to change the subject, so you don't blurt out your history with Todd.

"Honestly, I'm not sure if I will walk Sarah down the aisle or if she will want her mom to," Joel answers.

His response surprises you, and it must show on your face because Joel continues with his explanation.

"I was only with Marnie, Sarah's mother, for a short time. Marnie got married to someone else shortly after and had Sarah. She believed that Sarah was biologically her husband's and not mine. I didn't even know Sarah existed. She had Sarah take a DNA test when she was ten; she was linked to some of the Miller family members who had also taken the test. Only then did we find out that Sarah was mine."

"I had no idea, Joel. Sarah never said anything about any of this," you say. You feel so sorry for all of them.

"When Marnie's husband died, she told Sarah and me the truth. However, Sarah had grown up with another man as her father, and I never wanted to try and fill his place in her life. So I never really took on that fatherly role with her. Instead, I bought her everything she ever asked me for, and that was the basis of our relationship for a long time."

You sit there staring at the pain in Joel's face for a while. He never takes his eyes off of the ocean but continues to tell you about his past.

"Over the years, we've tried to build our relationship, and I take her on vacation with me every summer, but we still don't have the typical relationship you would expect. At times, Marnie and I have a hard time getting along; we don't see eye to eye on a lot of things. So I stayed back and let Marnie raise Sarah; in a lot of ways, I don't agree with how she raised her," Joel says with a sigh. "That's why you're all here. Sarah and I don't know how to talk to each other because we have nothing in common and barely any memories together. So dinner gets a little awkward without others to fill the silence," Joel says, seeming slightly embarrassed about admitting this.

"I had no idea. Sarah always made it sound like her life was so perfect."

"In all the ways Sarah measures her life, it has been," Joel says, but you aren't quite sure what he means by it.

A maid with a tray of tropical cocktails interrupts your conversation, and she sets the drinks on the table between Joel and you.

"Thank you, Molly, these look wonderful," Joel says.

"Of course, sir," Molly says with a small smile.

"How's your sister doing? I hope she's making a speedy recovery."

"She is, sir. She should be back on her feet again in no time."

"When we get back, you should make some time to go and see her. I'll tell Reggie to add some more PTO for you," Joel says.

"Thank you, sir, I really appreciate that," she says and turnsto leave.

As you observe the interaction between Joel and one of his staff members, you realize you've never seen him treat an employee poorly. However, Sarah snaps at them to get their attention, and you suspect she doesn't even know their names or anything about them. She doesn't even treat them like they're people. This explains why you never felt like you fit in with Sarah and her friends, but you feel comfortable and want to spend all your time with Joel. He doesn't look down on you for being poor, but Sarah does. The irony of it all is that the only one on the ship who knows exactly how poor you are, is Joel.

You stare at Joel, and when he finally meets your gaze, you can't help but smile at him. "Thank you for telling me all of this," you say.

"Thank you for listening," he responds simply.

"It seems like we're making a habit of telling each other all of our secrets," you say with a small giggle.

"I hope that continues."

"Me too," you answer.

"Sarah has another dinner planned on the upper deck. Can I walk you up?" Joel asks you.

"I'm actually feeling a little seasick, I don't think it would be wise for me to eat right now," you answer. You don't feel like spending another evening with Sarah and her new fiance.

"Do you need a doctor? We have a nurse on the yacht, but we'll be making port in just a few hours; I can call and have one meet us at the dock."

"No, I'm okay, really. I just need to go back and lie down."

"Okay, if you're sure. I'll walk you down to your room," Joel said, checking his watch.

"No, no. I'm fine, really."

"Okay," he says reluctantly, "but please use the intercom in your room if you need anything."

"I will, I promise," you say with a small wave and leave to slowly make your way back to your room.

You take your time moving through the ship. You don't want to run into anyone heading to Sarah's dinner, where the topic of conversation is sure to be all about her recent engagement.

You're relieved when you see that most of the hallways are completely empty, so you quickly start toward your room.

"Hey!"

You turn and see Reggie walking up behind you.

"Hey, Reggie. It's been a while," you say with a smile.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"I'm going back to my room. I wasn't really in the mood to spend dinner with everyone."

"Well, I was on my way to play some cards with some of the crew members. Why don't you come?"

Reggie must have seen the hesitation on your face. "Come on. It's actually fun to hang out with normal people every once in a while."

You laugh. You didn't realise that Reggie thought you were just as wealthy as the rest of Sarah's friends. "Reggie, I am a normal person. Let's go.”

—

Joel makes his way up to dinner alone, silently wishing you would be joining. You're one of the only ones in the group that he actually cares to have a conversation with. However, it might be for the best that you're not coming. Joel found himself always drawn to you, and if he wasn't careful, Sarah would catch on to his interest in her friend. He knows that would not go over well.

Joel's the last one to arrive, and he takes the only seat available next to Sarah's new fiance, Todd.

"I never got the chance to congratulate you on the engagement last night," Joel says as he shakes Todd's hand. "I rushed out because I had an urgent business matter I had to attend to."

Joel hoped that would adequately explain his quick departure the night before. He feels a little guilty that he didnt stay to celebrate and instead took off after you to make sure she was okay.

If he's being honest with himself, his evening spent with you, talking in the sauna, was much more enjoyable. He probably won't be winning any best dad of the year awards, though. He already smoothed things over with Sarah this morning. He showed up to her room with a pair of diamond earrings from Tiffany's. He'd bought them for her birthday, but they were perfect as a stand-in engagement present. Once he brought out the diamond, he didn't think she heard another word that he said. He’s happy to see that she’s wearing them tonight. She truly did look happy, and Joel prayed she would be in her marriage.

"Thank you so much, sir. I hope you approve of our engagement," Todd says.

Joel almost forgot that it was customary for a man to ask for his daughter's hand to get the father's approval of the marriage. "I think you two make a great couple. I'm looking forward to having you as part of the family, Todd," Joel says and then stands up. He taps his wine glass to get the group's attention. Everyone at the table quiets quickly and turns to him.

"I want to congratulate Sarah and Todd on their engagement. May they find happiness in each other and enjoy each other's company for many years to come." Sarah's friends all clap at this statement. Once the quiet returns he starts again. “As my engagement gift to the couple, I would like to throw you two an engagement party at my home here in the Bahamas."

This announcement receives a very excited response from all of Sarah's friends. Sarah's face is beaming at all of the attention she is getting. She smiles and stands up to make an announcement of her own. Joel notices she shakes her head gracefully from side to side, causing the earrings to catch the light. She is an expert at showing off wealth; no wonder she’s doing so well as an influencer.

“Thank you so much, Daddy! I'm so glad you approve, and an engagement party will be the perfect way to announce to the world that I'm about to be married. I am so excited about the upcoming wedding, and I would be honoured if all of you were part of our wedding party." Sarah is met with murmurs of agreement from the men and squeals of excitement from the women present. She sits down with a huge smile, clearly pleased with the group's reactions. “Daddy, can you hire some professional photographers for the engagement party? I need some really good pictures to post."

“Of course," Joel says.

“I wish we could have gotten some great shots of the actual engagement, but Todd didn't think about that part of it," Sarah says, with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I told you it wasn't exactly planned. We had such an amazing day, and it just felt like the right time," Todd says defensively.

“I'm marrying a true romantic," Sarah says, resting her chin on Todd's shoulder.

“Is there anything else you two need?" Joel asks, trying his best to be supportive.

“I’ll need to pick one more bridesmaid so we have even numbers," Sarah says to Joel.

“Why not ask your old roomate?" Joel asks, confused as to why Sarah isn't planning on asking her most likable and attractive friend.

“Oh, I didn't notice that she wasn't here for my announcement. That sort of works out for the best, though. I’m going to ask someone different. She doesn't really fit into the vision I have for the wedding," Sarah says, sounding very much like a snob.

“And what exactly is your vision for the wedding?" Joel asks, annoyed with his daughter's uncouth response.

“I want everything to be glamorous," Sarah says as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I'll still invite her, but as part of the wedding party, you have to fit the aesthetic."

“That's true; it's not like she would be comfortable with the level of finery at the wedding anyway. It’s very obvious that she’s lower class. I think our guests would be able to sense that. If she can't afford to buy a new dress for her birthday party, it's not likely that she will be able to afford a bridesmaid's dress anyway," Todd says with a smug smile on his face.

Sarah giggles and then turns to talk to the woman next to her about possible venues for the wedding.

“Didn't you just meet her this week?" Joel asks Joel in a low voice.

“Yeah, Sarah told me they went to college together or something," Todd says and takes a bite off his plate.

“Then how would you know she couldn't afford a new dress for her birthday party?" Joel says with quiet suspicion.

Todd's eyes go wide in shock, and he nearly chokes on the food in his mouth. He takes a few moments to recover and then says, “I think Sarah told me that. She went to her birthday, and she had to borrow a dress because she couldn't afford a new one."

Although Joel doesn't doubt that Sarah would gossip about something as petty as not being able to afford a new dress, he finds it odd that Todd would remember something like that. Todd's reaction tells Joel that he is hiding something, and Joel's suspicion is only increased by his quick shift to join Sarah's conversation.

Do you and Todd know each other outside of Sarah?

Joel eats the rest of his meal in silence and makes an excuse about having work to do to get out of the rest of the evening's activities. Instead of heading back to his room, he goes to the captain to tell him about the change of plans.

After Joel's conversation with the captain, he makes his way to his office, which is located a floor below the guest rooms. He thinks about going and checking on you but decides it is best to let you get some sleep.

Joel's office on the yacht is a carbon copy of his office at home. It has a large wooden desk in the center and a large dark leather armchair. The only difference is the view is spectacularly better on the yacht. A large windowed balcony sits behind the desk, so Joel can watch the ocean as he works.

Joel sinks into his leather chair and opens the laptop on his desk. A notification glows on the screen, informing him of the one hundred and twenty-seven emails waiting in his inbox. He pulls out his phone instead and finds his event planner's phone number in his contacts.

“Hello, this is Jessica of Jessica's events."

“Jessica, this is Joel Miller."

“Mr. Miller, it’s great to hear from you again. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

“I'm calling to see if you can organize a party for me. My daughter just got engaged, and I want to throw her an engagement party at my home in the Bahamas."

“Congratulations, Mr. Miller. I would love to help plan such a happy occasion. When can I pencil in your event?"

“Two days from now," he says, knowing the absurdity of the request.

“Did I hear you right? You want me to plan an entire event in two days?"

“If anyone can do it, it's you, Jessica. I’m willing to pay double."

“You have always known how to close a deal. I will have everything ready for you, Mr. Miller. Does your daughter have a theme in mind?”

Joel hates that he has to say it out loud, “She said the theme of her wedding is…glamor."

He hears a small giggle escape from Jessica on the other end of the phone, and she quickly tries to cover it with a cough.

“I know how it sounds," Joel says, embarrassed. “That’s why I am trusting you with this event. I know you will make it tasteful. After the engagement party, I’ll have Sarah talk with you about wedding plans."

“That sounds great, Mr. Miller. I will see you in two days."

“Thank you very much. Goodbye," Joel says and hangs up the phone. This wedding is going to be expensive, and Joel already expects to foot the bill for everything. Extravagant is one thing, but Sarah's taste is beyond even that.

Joel turns his attention back to his laptop screen and the blinking email notification, but he can't get you out of his head. Instead of working, he pulls up his social media pages and searches for your name. He quickly finds your social media pages. You're not very active; most of your pictures are candid shots of you and your friends, two women that looke kind and a lot more down-to-earth than his own daughter.

Joels slightly disappointed that you don't have more pictures for him to scroll through and very little about your life. He wants to know more about you, but it seems like you're very private with your online presence.

He sighs and closes the social media pages, finally returning to the emails he’s dreading sorting through. The newest email in his inbox makes his heart sink. It's from an unknown sender and contains a single sentence.

I know who I really am, and the whole world will, too, if you don't meet my demands.

—

"I am a normal person," you say again, smiling as you walk with Reggie. He raises an eyebrow skeptically at you.

"You don't believe me?" you ask.

"Right, because us normal people get invited to one of the largest private yachts in the world as guests all the time. You don't have to pretend you're not rich to fit in with the crew. They will like you because you are actually nice," Reggie says.

"I am the furthest thing from rich," you laugh.

"Oh, yeah? Prove it," Reggie says with a teasing smile on his face.

You quickly pull out your phone and find a picture of you and your two roommates in your apartment and show it to Reggie.

"What does this prove?" he asks.

"This is a picture of me and my two roommates, Lin and Aubrey; we are sitting in the living room of our one-bedroom apartment. I’m a bartender at a little dive bar, and I currently have two hundred and thirty dollars in my bank account," you say matter of factly.

Reggie's expression changes from one of teasing to one of shock.

"Are you serious?" he asks.

"I mean, I can pull up a bank statement if you really want," you say with a smile.

"Then how did you end up as one of Sarah's friends?"

"Sarah and I were roommates during our first few years at NYU. I think Sarah was placed in the regular dorm rooms to teach her what it was like to be a regular person or something," you say, only half joking. You still haven't figured that one out. Maybe her dad was trying to teach her a life lesson. "Anyway, she hated it and dropped out her sophomore year, but we remained friends and have been in and out of touch over the years. She randomly invited me on this vacation, and I accepted. I didn't expect the yacht to be quite this big, though."

Once you are done with your explanation, you are on the lowest floor of the yacht. You're surprised at how nice the staff area is. Perhaps you'd been expecting it to be like a scene from the lower decks of the movie 'Titanic,' but the lowest level of the ship looks like walking into a lobby of a four-star hotel.

You make your way into what must be the staff dining room. There’s a large group of people surrounding a circular table in the middle of a game of cards. Music is playing in the background, and snacks and beer litter the table. It looks like this is going to be the most comfortable you've been on your trip so far.

"Everyone be nice; we have a newcomer," Reggie says as he pulls out a chair for you.

The mood changes slightly as you sit down, and Reggie sits next to you. You realize you’re still wearing the sundress that Joel bought you, and you must look like you are made of money.

"Hey, I'm Max," says a man with black hair and olive skin.

"Hey, Max," you stick your hand out to shake his and you introduce yourself.

"Nice to meet you. Tell us about yourself."

"There isn't much to tell. I'm a bartender at a little hole-in-the-wall in New York, and I'm trying to put myself through law school," you say nonchalantly.

"What bar?" a girl across the table asks.

"It's called McGregor's."

"No way! I've been there before," Max says. “You have the best nachos!"

You laugh. “Yeah, we do. I would eat an entire plate by myself if no one were watching."

You feel the entire table relax as they all realize that you aren't like the rest of the guests on the yacht.

"What are we playing?" you ask, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

"Strip Poker."

Your throat goes dry at the thought of undressing in front of a room full of strangers. You're afraid to swallow the piece of popcorn you just placed in your mouth. You look around, and everyone is still fully clothed, and your heart rate starts to slow. Max smiles, clearly finding enjoyment in your shock.

"Max, don't scare her off already," Reggie chuckles. “Do you want a beer?”

—

“You wouldn't believe what one of the 'Richies' asked me today,” Brenna says

"Oh, this is going to be good. Brenna always has the best stories," Reggie leans over and whispers to you. After a few beers and a hand or two of actual poker, everyone seems completely at ease with you.

"I was cleaning up a wine glass he'd dropped, and he started hitting on me. Obviously, he has no idea what the real world is like, so he starts asking questions as a way to talk to me."

"Oh no," Max says with a laugh.

"He asked me about living on the bottom deck of the yacht, and I tell him how it takes some getting used to because we are below the water down here. Then he asks me how we use our balconies if they're underwater."

You snort into your glass, glad you hadn't been taking a sip of the beer at the moment, or it would be flowing out of your nose. You set your beer down and ask, "Oh, please tell me you had a good comeback."

She smiles brightly, "I told him we could only use them at low tide. Then he nods and says, 'That makes sense.' I swear they are all clueless."

Brenna starts laughing, and the whole table joins in, but by the time you catch your breath, you have tears in the corners of your eyes. You have not laughed like this the entire time you've been on the ship.

"No offense; I know Sarah is your friend and all, but how do you stand spending time with them?" Max asks.

"Oh, trust me, it’s a challenge. I sneak off by myself whenever I get the chance. No one seems to really notice, especially after Sarah's engagement."

"Oh, man, her fiance is a real tool, isn't he?" Brenna adds.

"He's a social climber too, so they are actually a great fit," Charlotte says. Charlotte is one of the older staff members and hasn't said much throughout the night.

"Well, that makes sense about the fiance, but do you mean Sarah is one too?" Max asks.

They seem to have forgotten that you are there, or at least they forget that you know Sarah personally. However, you keep your mouth shut not because you want to know more, but because you are trying to act as if you don't care too much.

"I started working for Mr. Miller when Sarah and the horrible woman she has as a mother first came around. That same day, the staff was all told that Sarah was Mr. Miller's daughter and to make sure she had everything she needed. Marnie, Sarah's mother, spent the whole day ordering the staff around like she was the owner of the house," said Charlotte.

"From my experience with Marnie, that sounds about right," Max offers.

"Sarah was raised by another man by the name of Winston Radcliff. Some of the staff had been around when Mr. Miller first brought Marnie around. The rumor was that Marnie threw Mr. Miller aside for Radcliff right after she found out she was pregnant because Radcliff could offer her a better position in society."

You can't imagine someone who had the chance to be with Joel choosing another person over him. You can't help but ask, "What did Winston offer that Joel couldn't?"

"Radcliff was the next in line for an earldom. It turned out that the earldom came with a shabby little estate that cost Winston his fortune to keep standing. The marriage quickly turned sour, and when the earl died, Marnie was just as quick to get a paternity test for Sarah."

"In my opinion, Mr. Miller was better off not knowing the truth. Marnie always shows up asking for more money. Sarah has always wanted something, even though Mr. Miller buys her more than she could ever need." Charlotte says.

"Was Joel in love with Marnie?" you ask, not knowing if you really want the answer.

"No, I don't think he ever really loved her. Maybe he could have found a woman right for him if Marnie hadn't been around for the last fourteen years, scaring away every decent woman he has dated. She thinks that if she can keep him single long enough, he will fall back in love with her, but Mr. Miller will never forgive her for what she did."

You nod and turn to see Reggie staring at you with a strange, almost hurt look on his face. He turns away from you before you can ask him what's wrong.

"Well, I think I'm going to head to bed," Brenna says, and the others all stand up to follow.

"You should come play cards with us again," Max says.

"Absolutely! We are here every night, and you are welcome to join us," Brenna adds.

"Thank you. I will." You're happy to know they've welcomed you as one of them.

You say a quick goodnight to everyone and head back up the stairs to the upper decks. Reggie's room is on the lower deck, so you walk by yourself. It must be later than you thought because the lights in the pool area are already turned off.

You feel silly rushing across the dark deck, but it makes you sort of nervous being alone on such a big ship. You're careful to avoid the deck chairs this time, and you're relieved to make it to the doors leading into the guestroom corridor.

"Where the hell have you been?"

You stop dead in your tracks and don't want to turn around. You know that tone of voice from countless arguments. It's Todd, the last person on the entire ship that you want to be alone with. You slowly turn, knowing you're going to have to face him eventually.

He stumbles a step towards you, and you back up to avoid a collision if he falls.

"Are you drunk?"

"I believe I asked a question first," Todd stutters.

"I was playing a game of cards with some of the crew."

Todd laughs and rolls his eyes at you. He again stumbles a little closer, and you're trapped between him and your door. He leans forward and places an arm on either side of you, blocking your escape. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he laughs. He's beyond drunk.

"Just like you. A yacht full of every thing you could want, and you spend your time with the help."

"Get off of me, Todd!"

"You know you still want me," Todd says, lowering his face closer to yours. You push against his chest, trying to get him off.

Todd is suddenly ripped backward, so forcefully you know it wasn't of his own doing.

You see Joel standing behind Todd with a fist full of his shirt. “Get your ass to bed before I throw you off my ship."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal

49 notes · View notes

tallymonster · 3 days

Text

Memories of Us

Chapter 18 : Remember Me

AO3 || Master list

A/N: so this is my longest chapter...it's around 6.7k words lol and there's a lot of lore drops going on soooo yeah enjoy lol.

Thanks to @cheesy-cryptid for their blessing on each chapter. Your support means the world to me.

Super special thanks as always to @micropoe10 because this girl has literally been here from day 1 supporting, uplifting, pushing, and helping me with this story. She even wrote the last few bits to save me from myself and I can never thank her enough. Love you so so much Rue.

Tags: @justporo @satanicspinosaurus @sleepy-timaeus @tragedybunny @davenswitcher @wayward-hel @hereliesblackdragon @misscrissfemmefatale

Astarion had begun to realize how much he enjoyed Octavia’s company. She was the eternal sunshine behind the clouds and each bit of affection from her broke them apart and allowed the light to come through.

The thought of someone caring about him was a lost concept, that someone could see something inside him other than what he saw himself.

Octavia was utterly infatuated with Astarion, she wondered if there was more to this routine the two of them found themselves in. The feeling of their bond becoming stronger, drop by drop of her delicious blood.

She was desperate to unearth more of his secrets, all while still hiding her own. Octavia was blinded by her own hypocrisy, the irony of her wanting to dig into his past while denying her own started to eat away at her. As she stared at herself in the mirror by the front door, she felt something tugging at her to be truthful with him.

There was a knock on the door, she took a deep breath as she finished fixing her hair.

You need to be honest with him. He was with you. It's the least you can do.

Astarion waited outside Octavia’s house, she had suggested going to a night market in Rivington she heard of. A friend of hers apparently told her it was a great place to go on a date.

He was somewhat nervous to be out in the open so publicly with someone. It had been so long since he let himself do it, not feeling the same as when he and Tav would walk hand in hand on the same streets.

Astarion leans on the rails of her front steps, he stares up into the starry sky. The stars sparkled as if they were there just for them. He smiles to himself, hearing the door open.

“Hello beautiful. I was afraid you were leaving me to go to the market all by mys-” He turns and the words are taken out of his mind as he takes in Octavia’s appearance.

She was in a mid-thigh length mustard colored pinafore dress, with a black short sleeved shirt, and some black tights with black leather ankle boots. A woven bag hung from her shoulder. This was one of the few times that Octavia could swear he was rendered speechless.

Octavia giggles and gives Astarion a kiss on the cheek, “Oh come on, you've seen me naked, I’m not dressed that seductively right now.” she walks past him and turns to wait for him at the end of her steps. “Ready to go?”

He nods with a grin and follows behind. As he steps down to the sidewalk, he holds his hand out, testing how she will react to his small gesture.

Octavia blushes, her heart fluttering slightly. She swings her shoulders back and forth, in a giddy wiggle. She smiles, biting her lip and takes his hand in hers. It felt cold, but so safe. She felt his fingers slip between hers in a comfortable lattice.

They walk through the street, silent at first. After they cross the road, Astarion wraps his arm around her waist and speaks. “You look wonderful by the way. I know you said you didn't look enticing, but I beg to differ. I think you look absolutely appetizing.” He squeezes her hip, Octavia’s cheeks are flushed a light reddish tone.

Astarion pulls Octavia close, hugging her in a playful embrace. She laughs as he bends down to kiss her. “You're being awfully affectionate. Are you feeling okay?” Octavia asks Astarion.

He lovingly cups her chin with his hand and pulls her in for another kiss. “I’ve just been really happy these last few weeks. I just figured that since we are on a date, I would act like it.” Astarion shrugs, giving Octavia another kiss before releasing her from his arms.

Octavia leads Astarion down the road to where the market was being held and becoming more populated. It had been so long since Astarion came to the street markets. He hated the crowds, the noise, all the different smells of foods he can't enjoy, but with her by his side it's all just background noise.

Astarion looks down at Octavia, a smile creeps into his face as he watches her eyes light up with excitement. Perhaps he could suffer for a bit longer, she did seem pretty eager to go out like this. Who would he be to deny her such simple pleasures?

Octavia can't decide where to go first. To her left was a stall with handmade leather bound books, to the right some flower stands, and not to mention all the food! She took Astarion’s hand and began to walk towards the flower stand. He smirks letting her lead him to wherever she wants.

“I love flowers. My mom and I had a garden at my childhood home where we grew so many. I tried maintaining it after she died, but it was just so hard to keep it up by myself. My dad was never one for being outside in the dirt even though he grew up near the Druid Grove.”

Octavia confesses with a laugh, she turns to Astarion and her smile drops a bit.

“I'm actually going to visit him soon. He's moving back to the Grove and he asked me to come help him empty out the house…feels weird to go back to basically throw away all the memories we made there.”

Astarion notices the change in her smile, the drop of her shoulders, and the way her hands come together. Her fingers twiddled at the variety of flowers carefully laid out with a far off stare. He takes one of her hands and holds it gently.

Octavia turns to him with faint tears on the corner of her eyes. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “It's been a long time coming. My mom's been gone about 16 years at this point, so why do I feel so sad?”

Astarion’s grip tightens on her hand. He knows this feeling too well. The feeling of moving on and allowing the grief to come and go as it pleases. Astarion takes in their surroundings. The last time he allowed himself to be in this type of market was the last time he saw Tav.

“You feel sad because you miss her, love. I've been there myself. In this very market no less.” Astarion finishes his sentence with a soft breath.

Octavia looks at him, recognizing the same sadness behind his eyes. The grief of losing someone you love. She remembers one of the things that makes her feel better is to talk about her mom, so maybe he can tell her about his loved one? “What were they like? The person you lost?”

Astarion glances back at Octavia, he hadn't thought about telling Octavia about Tav just yet, or at all. He pays for a bouquet of wildflowers that Octavia’s eyes locked onto. They turn and begin to walk away from the stall.

He hesitates before giving her a sad smile. “I’m not sure if this is the right time for that, I mean, I'd rather focus on you tonight, if you don't mind.” They sit on a bench near the edge of the market. Astarion looks down at the bouquet, taking a small pink rose and placing it in Octavia’s hair.

His hand lingers on her cheek, he leans down and kisses the corner of her eye. As he pulls away, he catches the smile that forms from her lips. He hands her the bouquet, as she leans on his shoulder, perfectly distracted away from her questions.

“No matter how long it is. Know that you will always carry a piece of her with you. As long as you remember her and the love you had, you'll never be without her.” Astarion comforts Octavia as they hold hands.

Astarion's good at the little words that everyone likes. The pleasant platitudes to soothe a broken heart. Meanwhile, he continues to push his own feelings of grief deeper down.

He could still see Tav standing at the opposite side of the market, the bag she carried full of contents hung from her shoulder. He stood about 8 stalls away from her. Her sweet scent hit his nostrils as he traded meat for bottles of blood.

Astarion had turned his head towards the scent, nearly dropping the glass bottle in his hand. He couldn't believe she was still in Baldur’s Gate after 30 years. He didn't know how long he was staring, until the merchant cleared their throat.

Astarion thanks them and turns back towards Tav. She's staring into a mirror that sat on top of the stall. She seems as if she's looking for something inside of it, a dreamy far off look behind her eyes. He hesitates wondering if she would be happy to see in or if she’d punch him. He’s frantically running scenarios in his head when he notices her head lift up.

Astarion shields his face with his cowl, only his bright red eyes shining through. He slings his bag over his shoulder and hesitates to walk closer to her. Tav fully turns to face him, her face the same kind loving light he saw in his trances. She smiles, beaming towards him, a look of recognition and love.

He swallows, the world seems to be closing in.

Instantly, though, that same world comes crashing down when he hears a small voice calling out. “Mama!! There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you!” A little girl runs past him, straight into Tav’s arms. Soon after a man comes up to them both and wraps an arm around Tav's waist.

He watches as the man kisses Tav and leads her away.

The rest of that day the way she looked past him burned in his mind. Could she have already forgotten about him? How long did it take for her to move on?

There's no point in dwelling on it now, he's got a lot of other things to worry about of course.

“Astarion? Are you okay? I didn't mean to pry again, I’m sorry.” Astarion is broken away from his thoughts by Octavia’s soft apology, her hand resting in his. He looks down at their hands intertwined. The flowers sit on the bench between them.

“The last time I saw her, she was standing at a stall like the one we were just at. I'm pretty sure she forgot who I was…or she had this look on her face like she did. I’ll never forget the way she looked into that mirror…This glossed over sort of blank empty look to her eyes. It was so strange, like she didn't remember where she was for a second.

Besides, she had a child and a husband? Partner? I don't know. I didn't hang around too long to ask, and I didn't want to cause any issues so I just stayed out of it.” Astarion confides, his voice mournful and far away.

Octavia feels the grip holding her hand tighten a bit, perhaps she's edging too close to his boundaries again? She rubs her hand on the top of Astarion’s arm. The motion soothes him and replaces the icy shards of sadness that pricked behind his eyes.

Somehow though, as he looks into her dazzling green eyes, he feels that lovely warmth in his chest. That feeling of comfort he’s longed for over a century.

They lock into each other, taking in their collective grief. Their sadness was the thing bringing them closer together. “You know, I’ve never told anyone about her.” Astarion confesses, “It's the first time that I've felt comfortable to feel this grief with someone who can relate. Thank you for giving me that opportunity to share a little with you.” He leans down and kisses her sweetly.

Octavia smiles reluctantly, a small shy blush grows on her cheeks. She must have something on her mind. “Is everything alright, my dear? You seem lost in thought.” Astarion asks.

She nods slowly, turning to look out to the market. “I was hoping that I wouldn't bring up anything sad, but I guess I couldn't make it through one date without ruining the moment.” Octavia huffs in a soft awkward laugh. “Gods, for once I wish I could stop being so melancholic and just enjoy the good things my life has given me lately. Like you.”

Astarion sits up a bit, he could feel a slight warmth at the tip of his ears, was he blushing? He clears his throat and asks, “Really? What about me?”

She smiles and plays with his fingers in her hand. “Where to start? You're kind, well…to me,” a soft giggle follows “you're smart, incredibly handsome. I feel pretty fortunate to have someone like you on my side, you understand me. Whoever let you go is foolish to have done so, but they opened up that path to you for me. So maybe they weren't so foolish after all.” Octavia lifts her hand, kissing the top of his hand.

“She didn't leave me. I left her. I left because I was scared. Scared that I couldn't take care of her how she wanted. Scared that she would figure that out on her own. That she would wake up one day and realize that I ruined her life. So I ran. I didn't even say goodbye. I just picked up my bag and left in the middle of the night. Like a coward.” Astarion spits out, the shame and regret dripping from his lips. His lips purse as he bites the inside of them.

Octavia frowns, she takes the flowers and places them on her lap. She plucks one out and begins to softly spin the flower, opening the petals. “You're not a coward.” She brings the flower up to his ear, tucking it behind.

“I don't think you're a coward for trying to keep someone you loved safe.” Her hand lingers on his cheek, caressing his face. “‘The things we do for love’, as my mom used to say.”

Astarion melts into the warmth of her hand. His heart felt the grief it was used to, but with her here it didn't seem so devastating. To allow himself to be vulnerable with someone felt strange, as most things involving Octavia do.

They sit in silence for a few seconds, before Octavia speaks “Not to change the subject or anything because I feel awkward,” she laughs a bit, “but I've noticed that you haven't been wearing your glasses lately? Did something change?”

Astarion bristles a bit, having to think on his feet. He was a bit hesitant to admit that he was not feeling the need to keep hiding behind the magical lenses any longer. In reality, he began to feel more comfortable to be himself around her.

But instead of giving her that openness, he lies again. “Oh, I…felt like I'd be calling more attention to myself if I were to have them on right now. Besides, wasn't it you that asked me why I wore them indoors right as Gale introduced you to me? I feel like this is the opposite of that.” Astarion ends with a soft tilted giggle.

“Imagine if someone stopped us to ask why I'm wearing sunglasses in the evening? As you so tactfully had that first night? That would have definitely ruined the date. Either way, you didn't do anything wrong. You’re perfect.” Astarion pulls Octavia close, releasing his hand on hers, and drapes his arm on her shoulder.

Octavia melts into his embrace, a bittersweet feeling hung over them. She brings her hand up to her shoulder and interlocks her fingers into his again. Astarion felt her relax a bit.

“How long will you be away?” “Do you want to come with me?” They speak at the same time, interrupting each other. Astarion clears his throat and Octavia laughs quietly. She turns her head to ask again, “Do you want to come with me to Wyvern Hills? I'll be gone for around six days?”

Astarion thinks it over, the idea of meeting her father was intimidating, even more so because he would probably have to explain his particular affliction. “I don't think so, darling. You deserve a break, and I don't think Gale can handle everything by himself again. I had him do that once and he nearly quit. It's too much for one person to handle. It would be unfair to him.”

Octavia feels Astarion’s other hand start to run up and down her arm. It's as if he was soothing her, or himself, maybe both? He was beginning to recognize the same comfort of sitting in silence with a loved one. The reminiscences of a quiet evening under the stars.

The sounds of nature envelop them, an intimate orchestra for two lost souls floating in an everlasting ocean of grief. In the vast darkness, they find the light and come together.

Octavia had lost herself to these feelings like so many times before. Astarion was born in it, used to the push and pull of it. Having lost the will to swim against it and let the waves crash over him, caught in its current thrashed around, but this was different.

To Astarion, Octavia feels like the safety net pulling him from the depths. The warmth of her affections was melting away his fears. His heart wanted to tell her how he felt. To confirm that after all these years, he finally felt the warmth of loving someone again.

“I lo-” Astarion almost confesses when he catches himself and continues, "I'll miss you. A lot. I just realized that we haven't been apart since we met. It'll be strange not having you around.” He leans down and kisses her cheek. “Come back to me, okay?”

Octavia felt her cheeks flush and her heart flutter.

Was he..? No…I’m probably just projecting.

Octavia couldn't deny her feelings for Astarion. The little flashes of lightning whenever he held her, made her laugh, or kissed her were exhilarating.

She couldn't deny that she loved him.

Octavia was terrified to tell him so after hearing him talk about his lost love. Who would she be if she heard all his pain and immediately said “Well, guess what? I love you!”? Her face felt hot, how long had they been sitting here?

She turns to Astarion and kisses him, she lets her feelings pour into their kiss. Octavia could feel tears gathering behind her eyes, “I’ll miss you too.” She smiles and kisses him again, feeling him lean into her, his arms wrapping around her.

Octavia pulls away a bit, “I should go home now, I told my dad I would try to be there as early as I could.” Astarion responds with a whine, Octavia giggles as he plants small kisses all over her cheeks, nose and lips.

“Don't miss me too much, Star.”

“Is that a challenge, darling?”

They laugh as Astarion unwraps himself from her, he stands and holds his hand out. Octavia takes it and they walk off into the night.

They leave the flowers on the bench.

--------------------------

Octavia walks up to the cobblestone cottage she grew up in. The patch of wildflowers she used to run in have turned into a full meadow, their blooms alert and open as if welcoming her back.

She walks up the gravel path to the doorway, noticing a small hummingbird on the hibiscus bush her mom lovingly tended. She smiles watching it flit away. Her trip would be over soon. A ping of sadness runs through her, saying goodbye to the place is going to be hard.

Suddenly the door swings open. Her father, Ralomaer, stands at the doorway with a giant grin on his face. He has a red flannel shirt on with some white powder on the bottom and some dark pants.“Hey kid! Have a nice walk? Are ya hungry? Got some breakfast made up for you!”

“Did you make waffles by any chance?” Octavia asks, with a laugh. Her dad tilts his head, his brows furrowed and he shakes his head, “Yeah, how’d you know??” Octavia laughs harder and points at his shirt. “You're covered in powdered sugar, Dad.”

Ralomaer laughs and waves his hand over the fabric, cleaning it up. Octavia walks up to him and remarks, “That must come in handy, you always used to hate doing laundry.”

Her dad laughs, “Well when you live alone, it's kind of pointless to wash one thing at a time. This is faster and better for the environment. Anyway, go eat. I'll meet you upstairs when you're done, it's attic day!” He waves his hands in a flourish, as Octavia walks past him and into the kitchen. Her dad climbs up the stairs.

Later that morning, Octavia sits cross-legged on the floor of the attic. Her father sits across from her on an old wooden chair. Between them sat an open wooden crate full of letters, drawings, photos, and many memories from her childhood.

“Okay, now I understand why you wanted me to come by and have this visit with you so urgently. This is really nice to go through with you, Dad.” Octavia chirps excitedly.

“Well don't thank me, thank your Auntie Taeladra! She insisted I clean the attic since she bought the house from me. Kept telling me something about ‘Preserving family history’ and ‘can you tell Octavia to come instead, isn't this pretty much her job.’” Ralomear holds up his hands, making finger quotes.

“Gods, she sounds like my coworker, Gale.” Octavia and her father laugh, as she rifles through the crate. Finding medals, trophies, countless books, letters, and pictures.

“You know, I think you’d like Gale. He's pretty funny. He's smart, witty, and so quick! He's been a great mentor, and an amazing friend. I'm really lucky to have him.” Octavia smiles warmly as she keeps rifling through the crate.

Her father stares at her, a puzzled look on his face. “What? What's that look for??” Octavia asks playfully.

“Are you dating this Gale? That was a lot of complimentary language for someone who is just a friend, my darling.” Ralomear gently teased.

“Dad! No! He's not my type! Besides, I'm way too busy with all the research and work and just…everything.” Octavia laughs, hiding her face behind her hair. She quickly looks away, hoping that her answer would squash this conversation.

“Oh my little bookworm! Don't keep your head in the books too long, you'll miss out on writing your own story.” Ralomear pinches Octavia’s cheek adoringly.

She smiles at her father, a little embarrassed laugh leaves her lips. A feeling of dread grows, she knows that her visit might end with her having to possibly define whatever she's got going on with Astarion. A small seed of insecurity plants itself in her stomach. How could she ever find a way to ease her father’s worries when it came to her love life?

“I’m gonna see what else is back there.” Octavia gets up and starts looking through the rest of the crates that occupied the attic. They were all stacked neatly in the corner of the little room. She walks up to the circular window next to the stack and opens the thin curtain.

Small dust spores kick up as she swings the window open, allowing the fresh air and sunlight to flood in. When she turns she notices a dusty tarp in the darkened corner of the attic. Some canvas frames sat on top of the tarp, it was staged as if it was trying to conceal something.

Octavia comes up to the items, carefully moving them aside. What she finds is an old wooden crate. “What the..?” She runs her hand on the edge of it, easily sliding it open. “Woah…hey Dad? I found something?”

Ralomaer looks up quizzically and wanders over. He stands with a hand on his hip, the other scratches at his beard. “Well would you look at that! Didn't even know that old crate was in here! No wonder your auntie wanted you to come through here, you and your museum skills are great for finding old junk!” he laughs.

Octavia began digging through the crate. Inside were old spell scrolls, tomes, stacks of handwritten letters from her great grandmother, the other adventures she traveled with, even highly detailed hand drawn maps!

Octavia could not believe the amazing treasure trove she had just unearthed in her own home. How long has this been here waiting for her to find it?

She finds a book full of sketches of various plants, animals, and locations all over Faerun. Octavia fixates on a fully illustrated image of the inside of what looks like an Illithid colony! She continues to flip through it, mesmerized by the way everything is drawn.

Octavia turns the page and is struck with drawings of eyes that look relatively close to Astarion’s own. She feels a strange sort of recognition from looking at the drawings.

The blood colored irises that were lovingly depicted in charcoal and ink, have a haunting familiarity to them. She knows Astarion is old, but she never asked exactly how old…

Her father pulls her out of her suspicions, “Lookie here, Tavvy! I found a rather interesting letter!” Ralomear recalls as he unfolds the antique parchment, handing it to Octavia. She reads the letter, her mind a little frazzled by yet another strange coincidence.

Darling Tav,

Laurent tells me you've been having nightmares again. It's been about 20 years since everything happened, are you still being plagued by the memories of it all, or just one particular, specific person? I still have some of my contacts from the House of Grief from my days as a Sharran. If you're serious about taking the risk, I could put you in contact with them. Let me know when you two get settled into your cottage. Lae and I can be over as soon as a tenday.

You're always in my thoughts, my dear friend.

Love always,

Shadowheart

“House of Grief? That sounds ominous.” Octavia remarks, remembering the extreme rituals Sharrans would take in order to release painful memories. Octavia could hardly imagine the suffering of those who felt it necessary to forget something, to now know that her own grandmother endured that shakes Octavia to her core.

“Sharrans eh? Good thing you did that whole exhibit on them! Maybe your friend Gale can help you out with this stuff?” Ralomear remarks.

“Yeah…maybe… Do you think Grammy had some PTSD from the whole Netherbrain thing?” Octavia asks quietly, the seriousness weighing heavy on her heart.

“I’m not sure, baby. Your mom always avoided the subject with me. Something about not wanting to dwell on the past and enjoying the time you had in the now. It was the one thing I never understood about your mom. How I wish you could ask her now.” Ralomear solemnly muses. He looks at Octavia, smiling mournfully.

They stay in the silence for a moment, before Octavia breaks. “I miss her. I could really use her brain right now.” She runs her finger along the outside of the crate.

“I miss her too. You definitely took after her, your brilliance is obviously her doing, my heart.” Ralomear takes Octavia’s hand in hers, squeezing it lovingly.

“I am so proud of you, I know your mom would be too. Now, let's keep digging through her stuff!” Ralomear smiles warmly and releases her hand.

Octavia shuffles through a stack of books, most of them run of the mill books, nothing too noteworthy. Until she notices a blue-gray fabric bound book. In silver letters across the front it read ‘Warming the Melancholy Heart’. She cards through it, until a small hand written letter falls out.

Octavia opens it, scanning the page. She gasos and begins to read the letter to her father.

Laurent,

The Unburdening your wife chose to follow through with should have fully set in by now. I have sent you some recommended reading should you have any questions about the procedure. Your wife has all my gratitude for all she did for me and the others. To give her this blessed relief in this trying time is the least I could do.

As per her concern, she may have some fleeting memories, but those should fade in time. Should she have any aftereffects or complications, do not hesitate to contact me again.

Shar’s blessings be upon you,

Nocturne

“Unburden? What does that mean?” Ralomear asks Octavia, handing her the letter.

Octavia reads through the thin book, the words describing the taking of memories sound as if they're trying to lessen the serious action being taken.

The remedy may seem non-existent, but it is not so. No heart that beats is a stranger to that which gives it joy - you must seek it out however you can.

Octavia flips through the book, most of it is filled with testimonials from people who went through the process. Lines of affirmation for what has been done to forget. Her eyes linger on one of the pages describing the aftereffects, symptoms ticked in red ink, tally marks keeping track of each in black.

✓ Forgetfulness ///

✓ Melancholy ////

✓ Face blindness //

✓ Staring at nothing //

✓ Nightmares of past memories /////////

These shall subside as time passes, you will need to guide your loved one through the process moving past their burdens. Should they seem different, another session may be required.

You may notice your loved one have an empty, far off look to their eyes, that will lift as their healing progresses. If you find they are forgetting more than intended, return to the House of Grief.

Be aware of them looking into mirrors for a long period of time.

"Mirror??? What?” Octavia gasps, covering her mouth quickly after. “Tavvy? Everything alright? Your face looks really sweaty all of a sudden…” Her dad reaches out and places the back of his hand on her forehead. “Oh yeah, you're feeling a little warm, why don't you go lie down? We're almost done for today, so I can finish up and bring some tea to your room?” he gives her a soft pat on the shoulder.

Octavia nods, “Sure, thanks Dad.” she can't wrap her mind around everything she just read and saw. She grabs the sketchbook and the book on Unburdening and walks out of the room. She descends the thin ladder leading up to the attic, then walks into her room, closing the door.

Octavia presses her back against the door, sliding down until she's sitting on the floor. The sketchbook closely held to her chest.

She opens the book back up to the images of the eyes. There's no doubt in her mind that she's looking into the same eyes that she had back on the bench outside the market.

Suddenly, Octavia remembers that she had the enchanted journal at the bottom of her bag. She crawls over to her bag at the foot of the bed, and flips furiously through it.

One entry immediately catches her attention.

Gods, it's been incredibly hard trying to keep these entries as neutral as I can. There's no telling what else could come for A. About two tenday ago, we went through that freaky meadow, A and I ran into a Gur hunter named Gandrel. Said he was looking for a vampire spawn, I noticed A’s whole attitude immediately change. His face looked as if he had been slapped. Those eyes that keep staring at me, turned so fox-like and angular. As soon as we heard A’s name come from the hunter’s lips, it was over. I have never seen him move like that. He swears it’s Cazador, but what would Cazador need him for?

Octavia presses her knees up to her chest. She closes her eyes and tries to push the notion of this being Astarion whom her ancestor is referring to out of her mind. It can't be him, could it?

She reaches over to the foot of her bed and rips through her bag, shaking out its contents, until finding a black velvet bag. She slips the ribbon off, taking out the red leather bound book that Astarion had given her.

She flips through, reading the first few lines. It speaks of people who had been captured, the various ways in which they were beaten, tortured, abused, and finally, bled try and turned.

Each one had an entire 20 page section dedicated to their specific treatment. Near the bottom of one page, she notices a name.

According to Aurelia, the Gur sent someone to find him. I sent Dalarya and Petras to stalk the Gur encampment in Rivington. They are to kill whoever does not give up information.

The boy will be found, I need him to ascend. The Ritual of Profane Ascension will be completed.

I WILL BECOME THE VAMPIRE ASCENDANT.

Ritual of Profane Ascension…where had she seen that phrase before? Octavia goes back to Tav’s journal, flipping through until she sees those words again.

Today, I got a better look at his back.

He's got a circular scar with Infernal written all around. When I saw it the morning after the party with the tieflings, he said it was poetry, but he didn't know that I know Infernal. I was hesitant to tell him what it really was, but something told me to keep being honest.

When I asked him where he got it, he told me it was a gift from his old master, Cazador. I explained to him that I believed it was a binding glyph, Cazador was planning something and whatever it is, it seems he needs the missing piece that I have in my party.

My suspicions were proven correct when we met up with the devil after finishing the Gauntlet of Shar and killing the Orthon.

He told us about this Rite of Profane Ascension. How Cazador needs 7 of his spawn to sacrifice along with many others to make himself into some kind of super vampire that can walk in the sun, go into homes without being invited, all those things that go along with being a vampire….

I'm not so sure about it though. Raphael explained that the soul of the Ascendant would be lost, and he would be a shell of his former self.

I don't know if I could go through with it. Killing all those people? It seems like such a big decision to make, so permanent and serious. We had a group meeting after everyone cleaned up and had dinner. Karlach and Wyll were adamantly against it. They can't justify all that loss for one person to benefit.

Gale and Shadow had more rational arguments, they both had ambitions to be greater than they were through their own rites. A seemed to listen to Shadow over Gale, but ultimately it was Lae’zel that convinced him otherwise.

She told him how all she wanted was to serve her Queen, but after seeing everything we have, she realized that she can't keep chasing the shadow of a lie. Sometimes, we have things we want, and we find that to achieve them, we would lose all of ourselves. If that was the case, what was he chasing after? If he wanted freedom, he's already free.

I think that was what finally opened Star’s eyes.

Star??

“Fuck me.” Octavia can feel the color drain out of her face. She looks around the floor at all the books that were surrounding her. She picks up the sketchbook and keeps looking through.

She noticed that every so often, there are pages ripped out. As if someone tore them up in a fit of rage. When she reaches the page with the eyes, she sees a little doodle of a star beside each one.

Octavia can't help the trembling in her hands, there's been this creeping suspicion inside her for a few weeks now.

The enchantment Gale broke, the log book Astarion gave her, the way he described his lost love seeming like they had been Unburdened and now all this? The clues are becoming glaringly obvious to her, but, it can't be….can it?

Her heart is thundering inside her chest as she keeps going through the pages of the sketchbook, more torn pages, drawings of flowers, and finally near the end of the book, two full pages of the binding glyph that Tav had described.

Three circles, almost like a bullseye, surrounded by Infernal symbols. The scarring looked deep and painful. Octavia’s mind races remembering how Astarion winced and seemed to not want her to touch him there.

Octavia’s eyes survey the page and her breath is ripped out from her lungs when she sees a profile drawing of Astarion looking her right back in the face. She can feel the tears well up behind her eyes, her entire life she had been told about this grand adventure, this amazing thing that her great grandmother had done for the city she loved.

There's almost double the amount of writings speaking all about a seventh spawn. It used a code for their abuses and names but I was one set of entries that surpassed all others in her eyes.

Octavia swallows, she grabs the red leather book one more time, she opens the book towards the end, as soon as she sees his name, it all comes crashing down on her.

I have dispatched the brood. They will find him and bring him home. And when they do, I will make him scream for this.

Their tale was fanciful, but they believe it to be true. Astarion, standing in the sun’s light? Willing and able to disobey me? Inconceivable.

My spawns fail me. Astarion eludes me. I WILL HAVE MY DUE.

Octavia’s blood runs cold.

There it was, hidden in plain sight this whole time. Astarion is everything that she has been searching for. He's the one who was there, the one who was in the paintings, the one who Tav forgot. All the evidence was clear, and now seeing his name in this journal that she barely bothered to look at back home…

Home.

Oh gods, how was she going to be able to look Astarion in the face now?

The only thing that made her doubt all of this was his back. She hadn’t seen it yet. She dreaded having to ask to see it, what would she say? How would he react? She presses her head up against the footboard of her bed, closing her eyes tightly.

Octavia's heart shattered as she sat clutching her knees tightly to her chest. The room grew smaller and the air around her was stifling and thick. Between the sobs, she tried to catch her breath, trying to stop the room from spinning, holding on to her legs, anything to ground her.

But what was left to stand on? Everything she knew up to this moment had been a giant mystery until now, shrouded in a decades-long secret. Locked away behind paintings and books, the things that once gave her comfort, that now sat scattered about her felt tainted.

She shoved them away, call it anger, frustration, fear, it all blurred together now. The floor felt like shifting sand, like it would give way at any moment sucking her down. Hiding her, like the other 7000, like his siblings like him...HIM.

Did he know? Did he know about her relationship to Tav? She had so many questions now and everything felt more and more uncertain. He loved Tav, and she had loved him that was for certain. Was he still in mourning, did he regret leaving Tav? Was she Tav's replacement?

Oh gods the room was spinning as Octavia lay down on the floor curled in on herself. She couldn't think that way, but she couldn't help it anymore. She no longer was thinking with a clear and rational head, instead, she let her emotions control her.

Binding her to the belief that Astarion once upon a time loved a woman so intimately, that she would never be able to fill that void. As sleep took her the last thought that plagued the visions within her mind was one that had read in the journal, something that Tav had penned so long ago.

Would Astarion ever leave Octavia like he had left her? And if he didn't would she ever be good enough for him to convince him to stay?

#bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #fic: memories of us #bg3 fanfic #shit's getting real now y'all.

25 notes · View notes

fiendishartist2 · 6 months

Text

*thinks about paul and care a bit too hard* i think im gonna be sick

#GUYS #HEY #do you ever think. do yuo ever think about how paul knows everyone in the game except care #belle is gamily. jill had the game and discovery pages. he knew rainer as a kid. he visited the family even tho he wasnt seeing them much #but he doesnt remember this girl at all. he doesnt even remember anyone going missing. he wasn't visiting the family much at the time #do you think he remembers marvin? do you tuink he knows he did anything wrong? do you think he lies awake at night trying to fit-#-his life and the game together #what do you think he was thinking during the counselor's section? i wonder if he remembered that. i wonder how far back he can-#-even remember. or maybe its selective like anything related to care is just gone #he knows they share a birthday and that the look alike. he knows the game places care in his family despite himself not being there #the game looks at him and asks him to retrace care's steps. rainer performs a spell to change his past. but can a game do that?#you are carrie mark. you are carrie mark you are carrie mark you are carrie mark you are carrie mark #do you think he knows after that. i wonder if looks in the mirror and recognises those eyes. that nose. if he avoids it entirely #doors are always open for him. the floor will continue under his feet and when he reaches for a door it will be open #it was closed for care but always open for paul #care is dizzy and uncoordinated and blind. paul cant tell his lefts from his rights #..............#petscop #paul leskowitz #carrie mark

17 notes · View notes

peachcitt · 2 years

Text

thinking about him (the gnc man i met at a tattoo shop in my dream who decided to take a taxi to south dakota to find himself after one night of knowing me)

#peach stuff #dreams #he also had memory issues ? he stayed the night at my house because ?? i actually don’t know but i did know he had memory issues #and i was scared he would forget me by morning because i had stuff to do and couldn’t immediately see him and reassure him after he woke up #because i had stuff to do. but when i finally got the chance to see him he told me he remembered meeting me #and i was so happy that i ran up to hug him and he hugged me back and the. he started telling me that #now that he’s confident he can remember things he wanted to go out and live on his own #and i was thinking . like the city 30 min away from where i live where i found him at the tattoo shop #but then he was like ‘you know im really glad i got the chance to meet you before i take that taxi to south dakota’#and i actually pushed him away (we were still hugging during this conversation) and i was like HUH⁉️⁉️⁉️#first of all WHY would you take a TAXI to SOUTH DAKOTA that is SO MUCH MONEY #(he had been robbed before i met him so he didn’t have a phone or cash but he did apparently have a card with a lot of money on it somehow)#and also SOUTH DAKOTA⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️ WHAT⁉️⁉️#i said these things to him but he was adamant about leaving literally that day #so to be supportive i helped him get ready and then a friend of mine came in and started doing his makeup because he expressed curiosity #and then he looked BEAUTIFUL and SO HAPPY in the makeup and after my friend left he kept on retouching his makeup and smiling at himself #in the mirror while i got ready to see him off #anyway i miss him. gnc king i hope your life is wonderful in south dakota i hope you remember me

37 notes · View notes

microwaving-tesilid-argente · 14 days

Text

most important detail ive learned from rereading is that hestio's specific skillset is singing sacred hymms and casting curses on enemies

BANGING POTS AND PANS, HESTIO CAN SING !!!!!!

#hestio ligenel #I WANT TO HEAR.....!!! AILETTE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CAN YOU SPARE ME A DESCRIPTION 😫😫 PLEASE THROW ME A BONE!!!#reading the mirror dungeon in pain bc ailette POV literally ONLY talks about tesilid #she is NOT paying attention to these two at all lmao (crumpled on the ground)#anyway the thin description of hestio in this battle is absolutely hilarious #he's just standing at the back w the non-combatant #there is only one (1) throwaway line abt how he's doing important work too by cursing the mob enemies #i wonder how their training normally goes #what do you think hestio's hand to hand combat is like #obviously worse than the rest but the way he treats himself in battle is honestly so funny #hes always loudly and proactively pushing other people in front of him and placing himself safe at the back #love that for you king. look after yourself.#no wonder he has so much to say about tesilid's self preservation instincts #but also back to hestio singing. do you think he's any good #do you think he was shit at it in the past but trained himself so he wouldnt embarassed himself while on the job #ephael and tesilid listening to his tone deaf screeching #or were the buffers chosen from the start based on their ability to sing or smthing #also idk shit abt mmos so idk how long a buffer is supposed to sing #just one line?? the whole battle???#hestio holding a concert mid fight?? how does it work PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW #hestio in toy mansion arc was clearly NOT just standing around at the back ???????

0 notes

osaemu · 7 months

Text

GOJO SATORU: THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: what do you do when your boyfriend cheats? you go to his house and look for revenge, and you get it by fucking his dad! NSFW

contents: fem!reader. age gap, blowjob, praise, degradation, use of slut, slight dumbification, dirty talk, and possibly more. 2.6K words.

you should've known that dating a rich boy came with more than just the money—it came with a shitty boyfriend too.

as you walk to his house, rain falling in your eyes, you curse every time he had you do his homework, his bills, even his fucking laundry. that's what you get for dating the spoiled heir to the massive gojo fortune.

you step onto the gojo estate's porch, wondering what possessed you to come all the way here in the middle of the night without an umbrella. thank god you still had the key your ex had given you, since he was too stupid to remember to take it back after he dumped you.

hands shaking from the cold, you slip the key into the lock and turn, a small smile dancing across your lips when it opens as easily as your ex's legs. he was probably out fucking another girl right now, if the pictures on his instagram story were any hint of his whereabouts.

you push the door open with your shoulder and dry your feet on the doormat. his parents are never home, and it's late enough for the staff to have all gone back to their quarters. besides, even if one or two were still here, they probably didn't know you weren't their spoiled brat's girlfriend anymore.

humming the post-breakup revenge song you'd been listening to for the past hour, you tie up your hair and look around. the only reason you walked all the way here in the middle of a dark, stormy night was for revenge, and you weren't leaving without it.

on the way to your ex's room, you stop in one of the bathrooms to dry off. rainwater slides off your body as you wring out your hair in the sink, water dripping down your wrist as you do so.

you walk the familiar path to your ex's room, rolling your eyes when you see a bra on the floor that definitely isn't yours. funnily enough, you aren't surprised. there's no hurt, no sadness, just disgust. your suspicions were right—he was fucking other girls while the two of you dated.

a sigh slips through your lips as you look around his room. it's messy, even with the help from the gojo estate's numerous staff. they say bigger rooms naturally look cleaner, and yet your ex's room still manages to mirror his mind—filthy.

you're so immersed in the thousand ideas you have to ruin your ex's life that when a deep, sleep-ridden voice asks you what the fuck you're doing in his house, you nearly jump out of your skin.

you spin around, words caught in your throat when you come face-to-face with satoru gojo, your ex-boyfriend's dad and the infamous head of the gojo family.

it's more than shameful that the first thought you have is that shit, he's hot. you've met before, but it was only in passing. satoru's never around, and the extent of your relationship was a brief nod as he passed you in one of the many passageways in the gojo estate. in fact, you aren't entirely sure if he even knows who you are.

satoru gojo's well-known in japan—not only is he the reason the gojo family has its reputation, but he's made quite a name for himself by being the most affluent and handsome of them all.

you've heard stories about him back in his prime. most sound too far-fetched to be true, but the photos of him in his twenties that resurface from time-to-time make good material for your late-night fantasies.

and satoru's even more intimidating in person. he's easily over six feet tall with well-defined muscles, and he's the definition of a dilf. he's probably twice your age, but the glint in his eyes and casual arrogance in his stance makes him all the more attractive.

it's a shame his son is such a dickhead.

"are you one of my son's whores?" satoru asks dryly, eying the bra on the floor. you scowl and kick it away, a soft huff slipping through your lips.

"no, i'm— wait, he never told you?" you cut yourself off with the question, a hint of incredulous disbelief in your tone.

satoru shrugs, reaching up to ruffle his hair. his shirt slides up just enough to expose his abs, which are really fucking hot by any standards. "if you're asking about my son, he thankfully leaves me out of his sex life," he says amusedly. "so, who are you? and what the hell are you doing in my house this late?"

"i—" well, you couldn't just say you were here to ruin his son's life. "uh, i'm his... girlfriend."

satoru barks out a laugh, looking down at you through his long, white eyelashes. "really? you sure you're dating my son?"

you narrow your eyes and nod. satoru shakes his head, slipping one of his hands in his pocket and gesturing to the bra on the floor with the other. "either you aren't his girlfriend or you just found out he's cheating. which is it?"

well, you tried. "both." satoru raises his eyebrows at that and takes a seat on the chair across from his son's bed, exhaling as he does so.

"so, sweetheart, what's the story?" he asks, a bored expression on his face. he leans back and spreads his legs enough for you to wonder what it'd be like to be in between them.

not sensing that you really have a choice, you sit on the corner of his son's bed and start explaining. at first, you sugarcoat his son's actions, not wanting to sound like a whiny brat, but at one point he interjects with a sigh.

"i know my son," he says dryly, brushing his floppy white hair out of his eyes. "and i also know a liar when i see one."

"s' that so?" you mutter under your breath, ignoring the way satoru's eyes narrow at your side comment. from then on, you list every detail of just how shitty your ex was to you. you tell satoru how his son made you fold his clothes, how he dragged you to parties even when you swore you had homework, how he'd make you fu—

you stop there, not wanting to divulge every detail of your sex life. sure, your ex forced you to fuck him every night in every way he knew existed from watching porn, but that wasn't for his dad to know.

satoru, who's been listening intently for the last five minutes, studies your irritated expression thoughtfully. rather than comment on the way you suddenly stopped ranting, he asks, "so you're here for revenge?"

you nod, crossing your legs. satoru eyes you for another second before placing his hands on his knees and standing up with a soft grunt. "do whatever you want, but i want you out of my house in fifteen minutes. and whatever you do stays in this room. no fire."

satoru looks down at you and raises an eyebrow. "is that clear?"

it would be easier to agree if satoru wasn't looking down at you with an expression like that on his face. it's somewhere between mild irritation and disgust—whether it's directed at you or his son, you're not sure, but he probably has better things to do than listen to some girl's breakup story. so you nod, and satoru starts to leave.

just before he steps out the door, you think of a really fucking insane idea—one that would absolutely shatter your ex. and for some reason, you say it out loud.

"you should fuck me."

oh my god.

satoru turns around slowly, hand clenched around his phone. "the fuck?"

you swallow, eyes wide and a stupid grin plastered on your face. "shit, i—" you were ready to apologize for just about every word you've ever said, but satoru holds up his hand before you can start, cutting you off.

he scoffs, blue eyes glimmering with either amusement or annoyance. "you really are a piece of work, aren't ya?" satoru narrows his eyes, surveying you critically. his gaze settles on the way your shaky hands, and you hide them behind your back self consciously.

"you want me to fuck you on my son's bed?" he says dryly, stifling a laugh. when you force yourself to nod, he grins. "not bad, sweetheart. not bad at all."

"i-is that a yes?" you hate yourself for stuttering, but it makes satoru laugh.

"sure, why not?" he says, walking over to where you're still sitting on his son's bed and resting a hand on your shoulder. satoru rubs the side of your neck with his thumb, cerulean eyes fixed on your lips. "might be about time to teach my son a lesson anyways."

satoru's agreement surprises you enough to make your mouth fall open, and soon enough, his dick replaces the empty space between your lips.

"shit, you're takin' me so good, baby," satoru groans, hand tangled in your hair as he pushes his dick deeper into your throat. "yeah, that's it, jus' like tha— fuck," he cuts himself off with a breathy laugh as you nearly choke.

he's big, way bigger than your ex, and you wonder how his dad's big dick gene skipped him. and even better, satoru's skilled too. he knows how to fuck you good, and you can tell that it's from experience, not from watching porn—unlike his lame excuse of a son.

"tell me, sweetheart," satoru drawls, looking down at you with a cheeky smile. "was my son half as good as i am in bed?"

when you shake your head no, satoru clicks his tongue in disapproval. "shit, now y're gonna expect every guy you fuck with to be as good as me. well, sorry 'bout that, because they aren't."

at least you know where his son gets his arrogance from.

it's getting a little hard to breathe, especially since you have ten inches of dick shoved down your throat. despite all satoru's talk, you can tell that he's getting close to cumming down your throat—his eyes are twitching and his breaths are starting to become more and more shaky as you suck him off. soon enough, the coil in his stomach snaps and he cums, cursing and praising you as he does. satoru's grip on your hair tightens, and it's borderline painful as he tugs you deeper by the hair.

"shit, that was the best head i've had in a while," he groans after his breathing starts to go back to normal. satoru grins at you, shaking his head and pinning you on your back on the bed.

"you've already been fucked by a gojo here, haven't you?" satoru cooes, tracing your jawline with one of his fingers. "tch, i'll fuck you better than my shithead son ever could. show ya the reason we gojos have a reputation for our dicks."

and fuck, he does. after quickly making you cum on his fingers with the excuse of loosening you up, he roughly shoves his dick in your already-throbbing pussy with a grin. he's so fucking big that you've convinced he's gonna rip you in half.

"g-gojo, i can't—"

"sure y'can," he cuts you off, jaw tightening as you tighten around him. "fuckin' hell, you're just tight as a virgin. my son must be shit in bed, yeah?"

"mhm," you hum, tilting back your head and gasping for air as you feel your body heat up. "shit— right there—"

satoru grins, dipping his head and meeting your tear-lidded eyes. he's far from gentle—it's barely been a couple minutes and your back is already in the highest arch of your life, and it's hard to form coherent thoughts as satoru continues bullying his cock into your pussy.

you lose track of time easily—fuck, you forget there's even a world outside of whatever this is. at some point your tongue falls out of your mouth, lolling to the side as your eyes roll back—just a dumb slut for satoru; or at least that's what he calls you.

as you approach what must be the hundredth orgasm of the night, satoru asks you to say his name. it's almost embarrassing how much effort it is to say—he's fucked you dumb enough to the point where you're a babbling mess.

"shit, you can't even talk," satoru says with a grin, flicking your forehead playfully. "cute." he rests his elbow by your head and shoves his hand over your mouth, amusement dancing in his eyes. "you talk too much anyways, princess. take a break."

you whine against his hand and satoru shakes his head, a faux pout on his face. "c'mon, it's not like you can talk anyways," he tsks. his next thrust is particularly rough, and you can't seem to remember who the name of the dickhead who got you in this situation—what was your ex's name again? does it matter?

"yeah i can" you mumble, voice muffled by satoru's hand. when his pout deepens, you can't help but giggle, a sound that soon turns to a squeal when he pushes the side of your face into the mattress.

"what's so funny?" satoru grumbles, dipping his head and pressing his lips against the hand seperating your mouth from his. satoru's glimmering eyes are fixed on yours as a cheeky smile spreads across his face. "fine then."

he pulls out, cursing under his breath as he presses his back to the headboard. satoru ignores the hm? that slips out of your lips and removes his hand from your mouth, resting it on his dick instead and stroking it with a smirk. "what is it, princess?"

"wha— why'd you stop?"

satoru lifts his other wrist, studying the watch on it and turning his hand so you can see too. your vision is still so fucked up that the numbers look like swimming otters, but you can vaguely make out the time.

"it's been fifteen minutes, kid. time to go."

your mouth falls open and you sit up, still breathing heavily. one second you're having the best sex of your life, and the next your ex's dad is calling you kid and telling you it's time to go?

"not fair," you mumble, pulling your legs into your chest and resting your head on your knees. "that was a stupid time limit," you huff, chest heaving. "i couldn't have done anything to him in fifteen minutes anyways."

satoru snorts, stretching his arms and resting his hands behind his head. "i'd say we did something in those fifteen minutes," he says dryly, white hair falling into his eyes.

"hmph."

satoru raises his eyebrows, biting the inside of his lip as he continues stroking himself. you notice the way his abs flex and tense the closer he gets; something that shouldn't be as attractive as it is.

"can't believe my dumbass son fucked up so badly with a girl like you," he groans after a minute, back resting against the headboard as he continues stroking his dick. "won't be seein' you around here again, huh?"

you blink, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as satoru eyes you intently. "what d'you mean?"

before satoru can answer, the two of you hear footsteps, and before either of you can do anything, standing in the doorway to his own room is your ex, a giggling girl on his arm. the faint scent of alcohol floods through your nose as they stumble in, and it's all you can do to stop yourself from laughing when your ex sees that his bed is already occupied.

"why the hell is my dad in bed with my ex-girlfriend?!"

15K notes · View notes

nezuscribe · 7 months

Text

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3

jjk masterlist

never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything.

you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights.

his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to.

and he seems to despise you.

you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore.

he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you.

but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back.

you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three.

but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed.

he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything.

after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up.

and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you.

ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans.

you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him.

not that it mattered now.

all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.

you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip.

whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.

any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry.

he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away.

you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else.

“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes.

“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left.

it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer.

sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up.

for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity.

but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from.

“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples.

“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone.

you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged.

he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies.

he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle.

it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak.

“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife.

if only you knew.

“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long.

you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say.

“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you.

“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it.

“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features.

and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show.

“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk).

he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.

“just tell them the truth.”

the truth.

tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up.

tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were.

tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms.

tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms.

tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position.

you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.

“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.”

you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.

the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind.

you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy.

“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him.

you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position.

but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.

“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door.

“i don’t-”

“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway.

you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself.

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected.

you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered.

you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury.

“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.

“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.”

he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside.

“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating.

you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen.

“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate.

“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such?

“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”

gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you.

“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement.

“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”

the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away.

you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking.

“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless.

gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite.

“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic.

“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”

“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.”

you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind.

a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.

“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”

“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly.

“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this.

“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”

your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.

“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it.

“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you.

you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around.

“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile.

“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response.

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!”

a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.

“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.”

you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch.

“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other.

“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh.

“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you.

his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature.

“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded.

you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance.

you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl.

she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions.

she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls.

you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat.

you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you.

you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.

---

gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him.

“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress.

“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down.

you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead.

so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other.

once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo.

you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased.

though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation.

“what you saw last night-”

“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.”

“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either.

“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables.

“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words.

“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.”

you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it.

you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck.

leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you.

you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so.

it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him.

“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door.

your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else.

“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door.

you didn’t answer, still, waiting.

“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door.

“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit.

you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table.

“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.

a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing.

---

gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day.

it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy.

you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time.

when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned.

“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down.

“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks.

“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet.

“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you.

your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis.

you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.

sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders.

myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing.

until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window.

“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.

his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw.

he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance.

“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her.

the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had.

“are you alright?”

you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being.

he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either.

“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly.

“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you.

“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.”

“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you.

“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.”

“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable.

“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”

you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three.

“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure.

“you are my wife-”

“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him.

gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back.

“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man.

“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.

he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint.

he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks.

“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.”

you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self.

“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you.

“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself.

“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint.

he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw.

“what do you mean?”

you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin.

“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”

“letters? what letters?”

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form.

“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”

his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing.

“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.”

the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement.

“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks.

“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.”

you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words.

“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you.

“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations.

“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face, twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-”

“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull.

“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-”

“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.”

you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones.

“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago.

“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.”

a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it.

“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face.

“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself.

“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.”

he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters.

you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided.

it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours.

it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined.

“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love.

“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness.

he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you.

“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder.

“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again.

“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin.

“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name.

“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could.

“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them.

“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did.

“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one.

“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours.

“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago.

“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it.

“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.

“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”

“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips.

you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move.

his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give.

your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch.

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds.

“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin.

“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face.

his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.

“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him.

“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down.

he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this.

but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you.

you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.

he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.

he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping.

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most.

“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.”

he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye.

his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck.

it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be.

his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall.

“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response.

“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more.

his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more.

he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit.

“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision.

you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo.

“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.

“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over.

when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces.

he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest.

“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?”

he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you.

“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.”

you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you.

“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that.

“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.

“and then?”

your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face.

“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs.

“and then?”

“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.”

“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking.

“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain.

“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves.

“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.

#gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo x you #gojo x you smut #gojo x reader angst #gojo x you angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader fluff #gojou x reader

13K notes · View notes

cashmoneyyysstuff · 18 days

Text

ring pop proposal ♡

fem reader, pure fluff, childhood friends to lovers lemme alone do not perceive me yk the drill by now, lil self indulgent fic cus i love childhood friends to lovers and puppy crushes, polar opposite’s trope, this reeks of my oc x canon katsu ship sooooo shh shh do not perceive.

the first person who realizes katsuki has a crush on you is his mom because when she comes to pick him up one day from kindergarten he suddenly mentions you. it’s an innocent little interaction he had with you that mitsuki doesn’t think much about at first, simply surprised her son managed to befriend someone outside of his little group of friends until he starts mentioning you more and more.

soon you’re the only thing he talks about and katsuki even starts begging her to have you come over to play. mitsuki is extremely curious to know what kind of person you are to have been able to enchant her son the way you have, she says it’s fine as long as you’re parents agree.

you’re a sweet little thing, almost the complete opposite of her little devil’s spawn. you’re polite and a little shy when you ask “ is it okay if i come to play at katsu’s house, please miss katsuki’s mom ?” and how could she say no to you ? she pulls at your cheek lovingly and her son almost snarls at her.

“no touchin’ !” he snarks, pulling you against him like you were his teddy bear.

mitsuki was the first to realize her son had a crush on you when you were always around. when he found something cool during a class trip you were there and whenever he was upset it was always because you had argued about something irrelevant that seemed so much bigger in the eyes of a child.

she realized because katsuki had, and in some ways, will always be rowdy. he’s rough and temperamental and moody—basically, he can be quite the brat. (she wonders where he gets that from a lot) but he’s different with you.

he’ll always be a little rough around the edges but it’s the thought that counts. he drags you around a little too hard but it's to show you something he knows you'd like and you repay him by being patient with him and letting him drag you around to his hearts content. he let’s you use the crayons he’d just denied another classmate seconds ago and when it’s really early in the morning and you’re still sleepy unlike your more energetic friend, he waits for you. sitting with you in the reading corner quietly commenting on a little bit of everything in the book you’re sharing until you’re awake enough to start the day because katsuki wanted you to be together through anything no matter what, starting the day without you was simply unimaginable.

you offer him your kindness and he repays you with his loyalty. acting like your guard dog, protecting you from everything and everyone he considers a threat to you. he goes a bit overboard but it’s the thought that counts and he’s definitely got the right intentions.

“ i’m g’nna marry yn when i grow up !” katsuki proclaims from the backseat of the car after mitsuki had come to pick him up. she looks at him through the rear view mirror only to see he’s not even looking at her, looking out the window somewhat longingly, watching as his school fades away from his sight, further and further and further away from you. she smiles to herself.

“yeah ?” she asks “yeah !” he responds proudly, crossing his arms “ i asked yn if she wanted to be my wife an’ she said yeah, so we’re gettin’ married !”

“huh. how’d you propose ? you don’t have a ring.” she jests.

katsuki responds immediately and exclaims he does have one, shuffling around to reach for something in his pocket. he pulls out a plastic ring pop holder, the candy on top is missing and mitsuki can imagine what happened to it.

“gave her one of these !”

“so that’s why you had me buy those from the store last time,” she hums. “ you ate it, though.”

katsuki tries to roll his eyes but just ends up looking up and to the side, mitsuki recognizes it as him trying to mimic what she does a lot and she snorts.

“well duh, we both did ! ‘f i kept it in my pocket it woulda gotten gross !” he defends. mitsuki simply responds with a hum, smile on her face growing larger as she hears her son happily chatting about the rest of his day with you.

she knows her katsuki is hard to handle. extremely so. but when she sees the way you both interact she can tell something is there. you don’t ‘handle’ him. you like being around him. you like playing and talking with him, she sees how happy you make him whenever you come over for playdates. he holds your hand when you get scared and you hug him tight and beam when you see him again after he’s gotten over a nasty cold.

she can tell you make her son happy and he does the same for you in the way children do with pinky promises and shy cheek kisses, kisses over tiny wounds and refusing to be separated whenever the rowdier one of you both gets his recess time taken away for being naughty.

mitsuki hopes this crush, this love you have for her son can grow along with you. she hopes you’ll stick around as katsuki grows up more and potentially more rowdy and rougher around the edges but even more enamored with you. and with the way her son is squirming around in his seat and tugging at his seatbelt, giddy about you accepting his ring pop proposal, she has a funny feeling you’ll be sticking around for a long time.

3K notes · View notes

heartless-tate · 2 months

Text

Notice me! | Azriel X Freader

summary; Azriel courting an oblivious reader.

a/n; Heyy! Just a little fic of being courted by Azriel. And you not being very aware of it. Hope you enjoy!

content/trigger warnings; knife, food, meat?, cussing, kissing, no use y/n, hint towards lust feeling, Azriel pining, Armen being sassy, FEM reader (if you’d like me to make a another post with male reader, message me!) she/her pronouns for reader, thunderstorm mention and I think that’s it. If I missed something, feel free to message me on it! 💝

word count: 3.1k. |. Part two

A plate clattered against the table causing your attention to turn to the man in front of you.

You met his gaze as he waited for you to try his new dish, his eyes seeming to shine as the sun hit his eyes. You swear he always seemed to be effortlessly beautiful. It was angering in some ways, you had even seen him wake up looking like a god. No. Better than a god. It didn’t matter if you spent an hour in the mirror, swiping various products of different expenses on your face; the result would be the same. The same boring face you saw everyday.

A wonderful smell wafted from the plate, causing your empty stomach to growl loud enough to shake the mountains. The shadowsinger smirked, pushing the plate of food closer to you with a gentleness most men didn’t have. Your face flushed with embarrassment, your hands instinctively coming to paw at your stomach, hoping it would stop. Your eyes wandered down to the plate where a meal sat.

“I haven’t made this before. I wanted you to be the first to try it.” He spoke with every ounce of grace and elegance a god would have. His hands grasped the seat across from you, pulling it out and taking a seat. His wings shifted until finding a comfortable position in the chair. You nodded in response, picking the fork up before taking in the rather- gracious portion of food he had made for you.

A ribeye steak bigger than your hand sat on the plate. Seasoning of different kinds were smothered on it, and the smell of butter consumed your senses. Your mouth watered in response. Beside it were two sides. Your favorites.

Armen smirked from where she sat beside you, watching as you lifted the steak knife and fork. You were so oblivious. She had been watching for the last few years as Azriel desperately chased after you, and you never seemed to even notice. It was amusing. He has spent hours staring at you, and you never realized. And if she pointed it out, you just assumed you had something on your face. She knew he was growing restless. Not tired of you, but tired of your complete oblivion. These days he seemed ready to scream from the top of the roof that he loved you.

Azriel’s scarred hand clutched at your wrist. He gently took the knife and fork away from you, before grabbing your plate and proceeding to cut your steak into bite sized pieces. Armen snickered from where she sat, resulting in a glare from Azriel.

“Oh- Azriel I can do that-“ You started.

“I know you can.” He responded. He didn’t give back your plate until your steak was cut into bite sized pieces for you. He watched you place the first bite of steak into your mouth.

Your eyes rolled back and you let out a hum of approval, chewing the food. The flavor was delicious, and it was quite easily the best steak you had ever tasted in your life. It wasn’t too buttery. Or too seasoned. It was just right. The meat was tender.

Azriel’s wings rustled at your hum. His face shined with pure male pride. His eyes never left you once while you chewed and swallowed. He stood, taking the steak knife that was no longer needed into the kitchen.

Armen followed after him. He sat the knife in the sink, letting the house do its magic before turning his attention to Armen.

“You’re like a love sick puppy.”

“My love life isn’t your business.” Azriel responded, his face tight. His words were low, ensuring you couldn’t hear.

“Hm. All I’m saying is your ‘courting’ isn’t going to work.” Armen said, picking at her nail leisurely. She was like a cat. Her piercing eyes watched as Azriel’s eyes narrowed at her with a scowl. Before he could comment more, Armen spoke again.

“She’s oblivious. It doesn’t matter if you fix her food, or leave her favorite pastries everywhere so she finds them, she won’t get the hint. Literally. I’m getting seasonal allergies from the amount of flowers you’ve left for her everywhere in this house.Seriously, this place is covered in flowers. Either start professing love or drop this little crush.” She growled out, walking out of the kitchen.

Azriel stayed silent before whispering,“It’s not little.”

“Yeah, don’t let me forget to grab a few early starfall gifts.” Mor said. You groaned loudly, rubbing your temples. Even the idea of her gifts made you want to cry. Her starfall gift for you these past few years have been a collection of ridiculously fuzzy socks. Every.Year.

Of course you were grateful, but everyone knew Mor’s gifts weren’t particularly good. You now had a drawer filled with fuzzy and odd colored socks.

Velaris was bustling today. Fae of all kids roamed the streets, some tending to their shops. Kids ran through the streets playing games. Everyone was out enjoying the sunny day. You and Mor decided to go shopping to pick up a few items. Your eyes wandered back down to your list, a few more candles, a book or two, and some lotion.

“Starfall gifts? I don’t think you need to shop this early for them-“

“Nonsense! It’s never too early to do gift shopping!” Mor said, cutting you off. You sighed and shook your head knowing it was hopeless to argue with her.

After a few trips to some stores, you both ended up getting lunch at Rita’s. You ordered a milkshake- apparently a new creation of a cold drink? None less, whatever they were, everyone had been going crazy over them in Velaris. And of course you also got your favorite meal. Mor ordered practically half the menu, content to eat her heart out. You didn’t blame her- food was good.

As your plates were sat down by the waitress, Mor eyed your food with a questioning look. Your eyebrows raised in confusion. “What? You’re looking at my food weird.”

“Oh. Well I’m just surprised to see you ordering a meal here. You know Azriel is gonna harp if you don’t eat his food.” Mor responded, shoveling food into her mouth as if she’d starve.

“Huh?” You countered.

Mor finished her food before rolling her eyes. She sighed deeply as if you had troubled her. “You know..” she said, waving her hands as if that would solve your confusion. When you raised your eyebrows with a puzzled face, she put her fork down.

“You know- when you eat something someone else cooked or you’re not hungry, and he’s cooked you a meal. And you refuse it- he gets all huffy and puffy! Like a broody motherhen.” She continued.

“He doesn’t even fix me food that often-“ you argued.

“Oh please! Breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Full course meal on the table for you. If only someone loved me that much.” Mor said, picking her fork back up. “Those meals weren’t from the house hun. All I’m saying is maybe you should pay more attention.”

For the rest of the meal, you both sat in silence as you pondered over her words.

Cassian laughed as you entered from the hallway. His eyes shined with amusement as you waddled to the counter with your shopping bags.

The sound was enough to draw a curious Azriel to the room. He immediately grabbed all your bags despite your complaints, setting them on the table. He nodded at you in response when you thanked him.

“I thought you were only shopping for a few things.” Cassian stated. He stood casually leaned against the table with a drink in his left hand. Azriel stood to your left, his wings expanded. His eyes were keen and watchful. You doubted he ever missed a single detail. His skin glistened with sweat, a musky bourbon scent coming from him. Cassian’s skin was sweaty too, evidence of them training together earlier in the day.

“Well, the candle store had a buy two get five for free deal. So I bought four and got ten for free! Cauldron I love Velaris!” You squealed, and Azriel smirked knowingly. He had taken note of your recent obsession with buying candles. Cassian shook his head.

Cassian's face lit up with surprise as you handed him two candles. “So I got one for everyone else. This one smells like leather and the other vanilla. I figured you’d like it Cas.” You continued. He nodded in thanks. You turned to Azriel.

“I got you this candle because I know you love blueberries. And this one is supposed to smell like rainy days and lightning. And this one is books and bourbon!”

Azriel’s eyes never looked down to the candles you had shoved in his arms. His eyes stayed on your face as you happily ranted about the candles. When you finished and looked back up to his face, he had a soft look. It was one you don’t think you’ve seen him use before. His eyes were soft and looked like pools of honey, and his smile was gentle.

You watched as he sat down the candles on the table and turned back to you. “They’re perfect.” He responded. He was so memorizing. You just knew whoever he ended up with would be content. You struggled taking your eyes from him.Cassian growled playfully.

“Hey! Unfair! He got three candles! I only got-“

Cassian was cut off by Mor smacking him on the back of the head as she trotted to the kitchen. She had a lot of leftovers to put away. Azriel gave him a quick glare, silencing him.

You noticed he was wearing all his leathers, and siphons. His shadows whirled leisurely around his shoulders and wings. Azriel watched as your eyes creased in confusion. He sighed. He couldn’t help but feel a shimmer of hope at the fact you had gotten him more candles than Cassian.

“Rhysand sent me on a mission, I’ll be gone for a few days most likely. I’m going to spy on the human queens and make sure all is well there.” He admitted. He watched as your face fell. You quickly smiled again and nodded. His heart thumped like a hammer in his chest. Did you care? Would you miss him like he always missed you? He wondered if you couldn’t sleep like he couldn’t when he was away from you.

“Oh. I see. Be safe.” You responded, nodding slowly. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the feeling in your chest. You had never felt it before. You wondered why all of a sudden you felt this way about him leaving.

His eyes softened even more. “I leave in an hour or two.” He whispered, head tilting to catch your eyes once more. Cassian had disappeared from the room all of a sudden, him and Mor talking loudly about dumb things in the kitchen. Leaving you and Azriel alone. “Let me cook you dinner before I leave.”

His eyebrows furrowed this time as you shook your head no. His smile dropped. He looked like a kicked puppy almost-

“I ate lunch with Mor.” You explained. Your explanation didn’t seem to comfort him as he shook his head in response.

“That was lunch. It’s time for dinner.” Azriel said firmly.

Your mind went back to Mor’s words. Pay more attention…what did she mean? What was there to pay attention to? Azriel cooked for everyone- right..? Your mind raced over your memories, trying to think of a single time you had seen Azriel set a plate down for one of the others.

“Alright then, fix me dinner Azriel.” You responded. Azriel smiled, pleased. His right wing flared, draping over your back. “Follow me.” He said, leading the way into the kitchen. His wing was warm against your back, as it guided you beside him. It was much larger than you were, towering over your head. As you entered the kitchen, Cassian and Mor immediately scampered out shouting something about extra training.

You watched Azriel move around the kitchen in a graceful dance of grabbing pans and pots. He kept his wings tucked in, to keep them from banging against counters and tables. His hair was messy from training, or like he had ran his hands through it more then once. But it never failed to frame his face. You watched as a few shadows dart around, grabbing various spices and ingredients for whatever new dish he’d make tonight. He set a pan down on the stove before turning to you.

His scarred hands gently grasped your hips, lifting you up effortlessly. He sat you on an empty space on the counter. He huffed a laugh at your squeak of shock. He patted one of your thighs gently before leaving your side and returning to his pan.

Your face flushed with embarrassment. He had lifted you as if you weighed nothing, showcasing his obvious strength. Everytime he touched you with his beautiful hands, it felt like everything stopped. As if the world had slowed to let you enjoy the moment. Your hands wrapped around your stomach, wondering what this weird feeling that had overcome you meant.

He moved swiftly, chopping ingredients and throwing things in various pots and pans. You quickly realized by smell alone he was making your comfort food. You remembered the night a storm had rolled in. Usually thunder and lightning didn’t scare you- but this was different. The booms and flashes were intense, shaking the ground and keeping you from sleep. You had stumbled to the house library in an attempt to distract yourself. But you only found Azriel instead. He had scented your obvious distress and took action immediately. He helped you settle on the couch with cushions and blankets before asking what a comfort food was. A good 15 minutes later he returned with a plate.

You don’t remember much pass that, you just remember becoming tired and sleepily. You remember feeling warm all of a sudden and then you woke up in your bed that morning.

“It’s almost done.” Azriel spoke, bringing you back from your memories. His eyes were distant as if he too was remembering that same night.

You smiled and thanked him as he handed you your bowl and a spoon. He made himself a bowl too. He took your bowl from his hands and sat it down, before grabbing you and setting you back on the floor. His hands stayed on your hips until he was sure you were balanced. He guided you to the sitting room with a fire.

Azriel didn’t eat until you took your first bite, ensuring you liked it. And of course, you did. It was warm, and comforting, like a hug in your mouth. It soothed your soul in ways nothing else could, the flavors easing your body from any previous aches. Azriel had never made a bad meal before. You both ate in silence together, with the comforting crackle of the fire and warming food. But as the time passed, you knew it came time for him to leave.

Your bowls sat on the coffee table. Both finished. The house made them disappear, taking care of them on its own. You were always amazed by its magic.

Your head snapped to Azriel as he stood. He sighed, looking at the clock on the wall. His eyebrows were furrowed and he almost looked like he wanted to chain himself to the wall before even considering leaving. He turned to your sitting form. His shadows seemed to move more quickly and sharper around his shoulders.

“It’s time for me to leave.” He whispered. He watched as you nodded solemnly. You smiled, but he knew it didn’t reach your eyes.

“Thank you for the meal.”

You watched as Cassian hugged Azriel in goodbye, and Mor nod as her own way of saying goodbye. Azriel had taken his candles to his room earlier, before joining everyone in the hallway. When one left for more then a day, you all said proper goodbyes.

Azriel turned to you, walking swiftly. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his big biceps practically squeezing the life out of you. He practically had to hold himself back from purring when your arms wrapped around his neck in return. Everything darkened as his wings cocooned you. His wings blocked out the noises of the others, leaving just you and him. His head found solace in your neck. His scent overwhelmed your senses in a good way. Before you had time to question Azriel being touchy, Cassian yelled,

“Ok! Ok! We get it, Azriel. Let go of her before you suffocate her.”

Azriel lifted his head, and his wings dropped. His eyes stayed latched on yours. A few seconds passed before he tore his eyes away and scowled at Cassian. His teeth bared in silent warning. Cassian backed down and turned to have conversation with the others. Azriel released you from his grip.

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t starve. And I left some flowers on your nightstand. I hope you don’t mind.” He whispered to you, fiddling with his hands like a nervous school boy. Your eyes lit up and you smiled gently.

“Thank you Azriel. Goodbye.” You whispered back in response. His smile turned upside down.

“I told you, call me Az. Or whatever you want- just not my full name. We’re closer than that.” He said in a growl like tone. He watched as you nodded your head.

It was time for him to leave now. He sighed deeply. The others had gone silent watching the scene with interest. But he didn’t seem to care.

He leaned down to your height, his hands grasping at your chin. He turned your head before leaving a gentle but firm kiss on the side of your cheek. “Sleep well tonight.” He whispered before pulling away. You stood in shock at the door to the balcony, as he said his last goodbyes. He waved in an almost shy way at you before taking flight.

You stood still, flabbergasted at what had happened. Slowly your hand rose to your cheek.

Realization dawned on you- he hadn’t ever fixed food for anyone else other than you.

a/n; hope you enjoyed, let me know if you want part two! 🌙

#azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #acotar 5 #acosf #imagine #azriel x reader angst #x reader #female reader #fem reader #reader insert

2K notes · View notes

triptuckers · 4 months

Text

keep the nightmares away - percy jackson

Request: nope Pairing: Percy Jackson x reader Summary: oh nooo what if there's only one bed........ (im a sucker for this trope and WILL use it whenever I can) Warnings: mentions of wounds, swearing, nightmares Word count: 1.5K A/N: yall know that audio from the rock "it's about drive it's about power we stay hungry we devour" that's me writing more fics in two days than I have in 6 months. I blame it on my percy jackson hyperfixation. enjoy!

you were so exhausted you could barely keep your eyes open. you'd been sent on another quest and had been chased down by monsters for gods know how many times already.

everyone was tired and just wanted to go to bed. but a prophecy had predicted there would be three demigods and a fourth companion on this quest, so it wasn't easy to leave the monsters behind.

'why did we have to be four?' you say softly as you force yourself to keep on walking. 'it would be way more quiet if there were only three of us.'

percy looks over his shoulder in front of you. 'I don't think quests are ever quiet.' he says with a smile.

'you know what I mean.' you say. 'are we there yet?'

'almost.' says annabeth, who is walking with grover in front of percy, holding the map and leading the way. 'it's just over the ridge.'

'thank the gods.' you mutter.

you know annabeth is going to state the facts rather than make something sound good. and sure enough, when you reach the top of the ridge you can see a dimly lit street in the distance.

you can see the motel you're headed for, a diner, and a gas station with a small store.

you're filled with relief of the thought of finally laying down and resting your feet. you could rewrap your wounds and maybe even take a shower if you're lucky and have the energy for it.

'come on, nearly there.' says percy, reaching out and gently tugging you along by your wrist.

if you weren't so tired you'd be reeling over the fact percy is holding your wrist so gently. but all you can think of is how soft the beds would be.

when you get to the motel you're too tired to speak. you let annabeth do all of the talking.

after a few minutes she returns with two keys.

'these are the only ones they had available.' she says, giving percy one.

'come on.' says percy. 'want me to rewrap your arm?'

you nod. a few hours ago, you got your arm sliced open and had to hastily wrap it. you're not very good at it, as the cut is on the back of your upper arm and you can't see it very well.

'grover and I will check the area quickly and then we can all get some rest.' says annabeth. 'regroup in my room at 8 am tomorrow?'

'sure.' says percy while you and grover nod.

you follow percy as he's searching for the room. eventually he stops and you nearly bump into him.

'sorry.' you mutter.

'it's alright.' says percy as he unlocks the door and lets you enter first.

you stop in the door opening, looking at the room.

'what's wrong?' says percy, looking over your shoulder. 'oh.'

yeah. oh. there's only one bed. not even a sofa.

you enter the room and percy shuts the door behind him. of course there's only one bed. and you're so exhausted. you can tell percy is tired as well. he's just better at hiding it.

'come on, let me take care of your arm.' says percy.

you head into the bathroom while percy rummages around his pack for the medical kit.

'sit on the counter.' he says as he enters the bathroom with the medical kit in his hands.

you do as he instructs and rest the back of your head against the mirror. you close your eyes but open them when percy lightly taps your knee.

'need you awake for this. you can sleep after.' he says softly.

you sigh. 'fine.'

'I know you're exhausted. I'll make it quick.'

'thanks, perce.'

percy ignores the way he feels when you call him that. he wonders if you know you're the only one that ever calls him that.

he washes his hands and then gently unwraps the old bandage around your arm. he carefully cleans the cut and starts on rewrapping it, making sure he's not hurting you.

when he's almost done, he feels a weight on his shoulder. he smiles to himself, letting you doze off on his shoulder. he's nearly done, anyway.

he secures the last bit of the bandage and then nudges you awake.

'sorry.' you say, blinking a few times.

'let's get you to the bed.' says percy, offering his hand so you can hop off the counter. 'you can take the first shift.'

you frown. 'first shift?'

'sleeping in the bed.'

'where will you sleep?'

'on the floor. I'll get the pillows off of the chair.'

you shake your head. 'percy, you're tired as well. you've fought just as much as I have. you'll only make it worse by sleeping on the floor. we can share.' you say.

sharing a bed as friends, that's cool right? not a big deal. at least that's what you tell yourself.

percy studies your face. he probably looks as tired as you do.

'it's big enough for the two of us.' you say, reaching down to take off your boots.

'alright.' says percy.

there's a knock on the door and both you and percy freeze. percy reaches inside of his pocket, ready to take out riptide.

'it's me.' says annabeth on the other side. 'all clear. get some rest.'

'thanks, goodnight annabeth.' says percy, visibly relaxing.

you walk over to the bed and lay down on the left side, leaving enough space for percy.

'if I find you on the floor when I wake up I'll make the rest of the quest even more miserable for you.' you mumble as you close your eyes. 'don't be a gentleman.'

'noted.' says percy with a smile, laying down on the other side of the bed, careful to leave more than enough space between the two of you.

it's cool, this is fine. laying next to you in a bed. nothing that could happen, you're just friends. right?

after a while, he can tell you're asleep by the slow breathing coming from your side of the bed.

he's keeping his distance, even if it means he nearly falls off of the bed. he's mind is spinning in circles about the fact you're laying right next to him.

but eventually, he falls asleep. after all, all four of you were utterly exhausted when you reached the motel earlier in the night.

it feels like way too soon when he's woken up again. he frowns, it's still dark outside. he shifts to get comfortable again. but then he feels something hard poke him in his ribs.

'oof.' he grunts softly, then rolls over to see if you're awake. why would you punch him in the middle of the night?

but when he sees you, he noticed your face is scrunched up in agony and you're mumbling something.

he frowns and watches you move around restlessly, nearly hitting him again.

but his frown disappears soon enough. he knows the feeling all too well.

you're having a nightmare.

a bad one, by the looks of it.

gently, he reaches out and pushes a strand of sweaty hair out of your face, then nudges your shoulder.

'hey, wake up.'

in response, you curl up even more so percy shakes you again, a little harder this time.

you wake up and immediately sit up, eyes wide in panic. your hand is scrambling for you belt, where you keep your knives.

'woah, hey, it's alright you're safe, you're with me.' says percy, holding your shoulders and forcing you to look at him.

his sea-green eyes are familiar and calm you down a little. you're breathing heavily and fully aware of percy holding on to your shoulders. you force yourself to push away from him, creating space between the two of you.

'I'm alright.' you say, closing your eyes and shaking your head slightly. you would not cry over something as stupid as a nightmare.

'want to talk about it?' says percy softly.

'no I'm fine.'

'talking mostly helps me.'

you sigh and start to fidget with your fingers. why does it feel so embarrassing? you're sure lots of demigods have nightmares, given what you go through on a daily basis.

'it was the gods.' you start. 'I'd failed some sort of quest and they let loose their powers on me. camp half-blood got destroyed. I couldn't find annabeth and grover. there was fire everywhere and you... fuck.'

'it's okay.' says percy softly, encouraging you to go on.

'I found you in the rubble of your cabin.' you whisper.

'shit, I'm sorry.'

'it's alright, I'm alright. you're here now.'

'you think you can try going back to sleep again?'

'yeah, I can try.'

the two of you lay down again, this time with a little less space between you.

'percy?' you say, slowly reaching out to him.

'yeah?'

'is it okay if I...?'

wordlessly, percy reaches out and pulls you against him, where you curl up against his side.

'thanks.' you say, feeling yourself relax again.

'I'll keep the nightmares away.' mumbles percy.

you smile to yourself, closing your eyes and letting percy's heartbeat lull you to sleep. you're confident nightmares wouldn't find you again. you're safe now.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max

3K notes · View notes

sweetlemontart · 4 months

Text

nocturnal | choi seungcheol [M]

summary ⇾ tipsy from after-work drinks, seungcheol returns home on friday night to find you asleep. he tries not to look, but his wandering eyes keep drifting over to your slumbering figure, and he knows rest won’t come easy when you seem to be tempting him even in your sleep. seungcheol could resolve his little predicament all by himself, but shouldn’t you be the one to take responsibility for making him feel this way?

PAIRING // choi seungcheol x fem!reader

GENRE // some fluff, mostly smut, pwp (i mean it, I'm warning u), sub!reader, dom!seungcheol, fiancé!seungcheol

WARNING // 18+, explicit sexual content, established relationship, unprotected sex, somnophilia, consensual voyeurism, male masturbation, slight size kink, oral (m&f receiving), creampie, fingering (f receiving), edging, choking, thigh riding, talks about having kids, cheol is a teasing little sh*t

WORD COUNT // 13k

AUTHOR’S NOTE // 13k of just smut lol btw have yall seen GDA cheol? the all black fit and rolled up sleeves and the dark hair... moving on, happy new year to everyone who reads this, may 2024 bring us endless happiness and love ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅ do reblog if u enjoy this fic. I'm working on a wonwoo fic that has ten times more plot than this so pls stay tuned for that :) song rec is rock your body - clara la san

masterlist link

You're already in bed when your fiancé returns home from work, drifting in and out of sleep, wanting to wait for him to come home but unable to fight your weariness. Friday is always the busiest day at work, and the idea of being able to stay in bed until noon the next day only makes you want to wait up for him even more.

Seungcheol must think you're already asleep. It's reasonable that he thinks that way—you're a light sleeper and often go to bed early. He tries his best to stay quiet as he moves around. You had barely heard him enter the apartment, and only faint thuds of his sock-clad feet can be heard as he meanders around the house.

When Seungcheol enters the bedroom, he's a little sceptical as to why the bedside lamp is still on, casting a dim, yellow glow across the room. His eyes search for you, finding you cocooned under the covers, lying on your left side with your back turned to him. He knows you can't sleep with any light on, but he deduces you must've been waiting for him and inevitably succumbed to sleep.

Seungcheol moves toward the full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom. He's slightly tipsy from downing a few beers with his co-workers after work. He feels light on his feet, and his once-gelled hair is no longer slicked back, some unruly strands now falling over his forehead. He hears you shift on the bed as he loosens his tie, but he doesn't think much of it, proceeding to unbutton his dress shirt.

Two buttons in, he hears movement from the bed again, and this time, he looks in your direction in the mirror, taken aback when his eyes meet your bleary ones. He turns his head to look at you, his mouth curling into a lazy smile. "I thought you were asleep," he says in a low voice.

You say nothing, propping your elbow up on your pillow and leaning your head against it to get a better look at your fiancé. He turns back to the mirror, and you notice the rosy tint colouring his cheeks. You sigh dreamily, admiring him from the bed. Seungcheol is tall—that much is obvious—but those dress pants do his legs wonder.

When he reaches for his belt, you can't help but stare. His dress shirt is still tucked into the pants, the first few buttons open, baring the soft skin of his chest. Your eyes wander, and you think Seungcheol does notice. The man does not miss a thing when it comes to you.

The sound of his belt unbuckling makes your legs curl closer to your body, and Seungcheol definitely notices this time because he stops his movement, fingers hovering over the button of his pants. When he turns on his heels, your eyes finally snap back up to look at his face. He doesn't say anything as he approaches, coming to a stop beside the bed, towering over you.

He reaches one hand out to caress your cheek with the back of his fingers. It's a feathery touch, and your eyes naturally flutter close, head tilting into his touch just the slightest. Gentle fingers thread into your hair, brushing it back and tucking loose strands behind your ear.

Your eyes snap open when you feel his thumb against your bottom lip. At first, it's harmless, and he's only dragging the pad of his thumb across your lip, but then he starts to dip further into your mouth. He lets out a soft sigh when your lips part, allowing his thumb to rest against your tongue. Then, your mouth wraps around his finger, suckling at it softly, and his breath catches in his throat when he feels just how warm and wet your mouth is.

It's over before you want it to be. Seungcheol smiles a little too innocently, removing his thumb from your mouth and patting your cheek. "Get some rest, baby. I'm going to take a quick shower."

You don't stop him as he walks into the en suite bathroom, surprised that he hadn't immediately taken his clothes off and taken you right then and there. Seungcheol's self-control has always been immaculate when it comes to sex, but refusing to do it on a Friday night when neither he nor you have work tomorrow morning? You chalk it up to his exhaustion after working overtime, so you lie back in bed, eyes refusing to close even though your body is screaming at you to rest.

Seungcheol emerges from the bathroom not even a minute later, shirtless, belt discarded, pants unbuttoned. He takes off his silver Rolex, carefully setting it down on the bedside table near his side of the bed—as always. To your disappointment, he doesn't spare you even a glance before walking back into the bathroom.

You find yourself sighing, anticipating what seems to be an uneventful Friday night. You and Seungcheol usually spend Friday nights together— going out for dinner or unwinding with a movie on the couch. But if your lover is too tired to do anything other than sleep, you understand. You also have days when you feel too drained to do anything other than lie in bed and mull over your thoughts. Besides, it isn't like you don't have the entire weekend to make up for it—hell, you have your whole life to make up for it.

Seungcheol leaves the bathroom door open behind him. It's not strange for either of you to keep the bathroom door open while showering. Privacy isn't much of an issue for both of you.

You fall back asleep relatively quickly, not thinking much about the fact that the shower hasn't started running even though Seungcheol has been in the bathroom for at least five minutes.

You awaken again soon enough to the sound of soft sighs and some rustling from the direction of the couch placed near the bedroom door. At first, you try to ignore it, thinking Seungcheol might just be getting himself ready for bed. Then another sigh follows, and you peek an eye open to take a quick look. What you think will be a quick look turns into so much more.

Your beloved fiancé sits with his legs spread on the white couch, still shirtless and wearing his dress pants. This time, however, his boxer has been pushed down just slightly, and he's lazily stroking his cock in his hand, his other arm splayed across the backrest of the couch. His skin is pale and milky, glowing in the golden light. He smiles when you prop yourself on your elbow, blinking blearily as if trying to comprehend what you are currently seeing.

He's rock hard, shaft glistening with pre-cum. You and Seungcheol have always loved trying new things in bed, pushing yourself to the limit, testing just how far each of you will go before you tap out. But this... the thought that Seungcheol was touching himself to the sight of you asleep—it stirs something in you. You've always loved waking up with Seungcheol's cock inside you. The drag of his cock feels especially good when you're still drowsy, trying to pull yourself together but failing each time because your lover just feels so good inside you. But this is different.

Seungcheol's hand speeds up, and the way he groans makes you lose your train of thought. The silver ring sits snugly on his little finger—the coolness of it must feel so good on his cock. You don't break eye contact, shifting onto your stomach and folding your arms underneath your head as you watch him. You wouldn't be able to look away even if you wanted to.

Seungcheol grits his jaw when he sees you smile. It's the last thing he expects. You look so sweet, and he starts to wonder about the sight he would be met with if he were to pull the covers away from your body. Are you wearing the sheer nightgown he always loves seeing on you? Or maybe you're wearing nothing, and he'd be able to spread your legs apart and slip himself right into the warmth of your needy cunt.

Seungcheol straightens his posture just a little, cock twitching in his hold at the sight of your smile. You look so at ease, enjoying this more than he had anticipated. He was half expecting to get an earful from you, thinking you would probably scold him for his bizarre behaviour, but this, he wasn't expecting at all, and that makes his cock harden, balls tightening almost painfully. Seungcheol feels as though he's about to burst from the inside. Your smile—as if you're taunting him, teasing him.

"Fuck, fuck..." he breathes out, head tilting back, eyes closing, savouring the feeling of his rough, calloused hand moving up and down his cock. The fact that you're most likely still watching him makes his abs tense up, trying to hold back from finishing too fast. It has barely been ten minutes since he started, but the sight of your smile feels like it's burned into the back of his eyelids. It makes his brain go haywire.

He risks another look at you and immediately realises he has made a grave mistake. Instantly, he's cumming hard, unable to hold himself back because you're looking at him so prettily—slow blinks and a sleepy smile. A loud groan rips from Seungcheol's chest, fist wrapped around the tip of his cock, stroking it just barely, trying to milk everything out. His cum trickles down his knuckles, down his shaft.

The intensity of your gaze, fixed squarely on his leaking cock, spurs Seungcheol to stand up. He rids himself off his dress pants and boxers, using the latter to wipe off most of his release before walking closer to you. Seungcheol stops on the side of the bed, stroking his softening cock almost languidly. He doesn't have to say anything, and you're already sitting up against the headboard, reaching a hand to grab at his wrist to pull him even closer. Seungcheol perches one knee on the bed, watching as you lick your lips at the sight of his cum. You're still fucking smiling, and he feels himself growing hard again.

"Enjoyed that, did we?" he says quietly, trying not to break the peace and quiet too much in case you feel like going back to sleep after his little 'show'.

"Very much," you reply, voice slightly scratchy from sleep.

Seungcheol is so thick everywhere, and it makes you dizzy. Your eyes roam over his chest, bulky arms, and firm thighs. Your lover has always been strong and filled in all the right places, and you love it. He has no problem picking you up, tossing you around, manhandling you into different positions. He doesn't struggle with keeping you steady when he's fucking you against the wall or any other surface.

You brush aside his hand from his cock, tongue lolling out to lick at the excess cum on his knuckles, cleaning it off his skin. The salty, bitter taste floods your tongue, and you immediately take him into your mouth. Seungcheol hisses when you do, loving the way your mouth envelopes him. You don't waste any time trying to take all of him in, mouth stretching almost painfully around the heavy girth that's starting to harden again, your thighs pressing together to get some friction. You must look pitiful to Seungcheol, trying to fit all of him in your mouth in your sleepy state, hips shifting slightly on the bed, trying to get some relief.

Breathing in, you look up—right into his eyes—before moving forward until the tip of your nose presses into his lower stomach. He breathes out a chuckle when you gag, throat constricting around his cock. Your eyes fill with tears, but you don't pull away until you're sputtering and the droplets of tears trickle down your cheeks. Seungcheol's quick to cup your jaw, thumb brushing against the pearling teardrops on your cheek. "Easy, baby... I know you're tired. Don't force it..."

Hearing Seungcheol's instructions, you stick to shallow motions, using your hand to stroke the rest of his length you can't fit in your mouth. Seungcheol's hip jerks forward a little when you drag your tongue along the underside of his cock, tracing the veins and circling the tip. Seungcheol mumbles an apology as he weaves a hand through your hair and starts to thrust his hips forward little by little, lost in the feeling of your mouth.

His cock glistens with your spit in the low light, and your eyes fall shut naturally, basking in the quiet noises Seungcheol is making. He doesn't force you to take all of him, pulling his hips back before the tip of his cock can reach your throat. You appreciate his sentiment, even if you feel awake enough to take whatever he gives you.

Your eyes snap open when you feel the cold air against your bare legs. Seungcheol has yanked the blanket away from your body and is now peering down at your exposed form, clad in his grey shirt and a pair of white panties. Your panties are nothing special, but Seungcheol feels his cock twitch in your mouth when he sees the wet patch on the crotch of your underwear.

He can feel the vibration of your moan against his cock when his finger grazes over the damp spot on your panties. He can't resist using the tips of his fingers to rub over your clothed pussy, teasing up and down the slit, watching the way the drenched fabric sticks to your dripping cunt—thoroughly soaked and ruined before he has even done anything to you.

When you pull away from his cock momentarily to take a much-needed breath, Seungcheol immediately leans down to capture your lips with his in a bruising kiss. He swallows all your moans, rolling his tongue over yours, dragging it against your lower lip. He doesn't pull away, even as he tugs the crotch of your panties to the side and starts to circle your clit with his fingers, which makes your legs snap shut, trapping his hand in between.

Seungcheol pulls away from the kiss, glancing down at his trapped hand before looking back at you almost expectedly. "Open," he commands. You don't need to be told twice, immediately parting your legs.

"Good girl..."

Seungcheol prods at your hole with two fingers, slipping both in only halfway. They slide in easily, slick from the wetness seeping out of your pulsing hole and the remnants of precum messily smeared all over his cock as he was jerking himself off.

"You got this wet from watching me? Or were you touching yourself before I got home?" Seungcheol grunts, gazing down at the way your pussy is fluttering around his fingers. The squelching sound is obscene, resounding throughout the bedroom. "Messy little thing..." he mumbles quietly, lost in thought as he lets his fingers dip into you right down to the knuckle.

You gasp, pulling your mouth away from his cock to look up at his face. Seungcheol doesn't meet your eyes, seemingly entranced by the sight of his fingers between your legs. Bending one of your knees, you spread your legs wider. After dating Seungcheol for two years and being engaged for one and a half, you don't feel the need to hide from him nor the embarrassment of presenting yourself to him like you're his to own and use as he pleases. In all honesty, he possesses every part of you—your heart, your soul, every inch of your body. He is yours as much as you are his.

When Seungcheol adds a third finger, he finally looks back at your face, not wanting to miss how your eyebrows furrow and mouth gape open at the tight fit. His fingers are thick—much more so than yours—but his cock is even more so, and he definitely needs to stretch you out to get you ready, or he will risk hurting you. There are occassions when a little bit of pain is most welcome, but tonight, his main objective is to give you pleasure.

With a trembling hand, you reach up to grasp at his cock, stroking him slowly, matching the pace of his fingers as they dip in and out of you. You know you won't be able to use your mouth properly, not when he's touching you so earnestly and looking down at you as though he hasn't ever seen you in such a position in your years of being together.

"You touch yourself before I came home, sweetheart?"

You're quick to shake your head, slumping further down the headboard as he continues to play with your pussy. "No..." you whimper, jolting when he suddenly curls his fingers, tips of his fingers firmly pressing up against the spongy spot inside you that sends a current of pleasure darting up your spine. "I got so wet from watching you, Cheol," you sigh out, hips canting up to match the movement of his hand. "I love watching you..."

Seungcheol hums, grinning down at you, pleased with your response. "Aw, my baby always loves watching me, isn't that right?"

His free hand envelopes the hand around his cock, urging you to keep stroking him. The ring on his middle finger glints in the light—it's the ring you gave him a week after his proposal. It serves as a reminder that no one else but him has the privilege to have you like this. No one else will ever get to touch you, kiss you, make love to you, and fuck you the way he intends to tonight. You're his, forever, and the idea has him grunting out your name breathlessly.

With his hand atop yours, he guides your hand up and down his length at a pace that makes him hiss. Your hand is much smaller than his, fingertips barely meeting around his thick girth. His skin prickles whenever you tighten your hand around him just slightly every time your hand reaches just under the head of his cock, squeezing him just the way you know he likes it.

"Fuck..." he exhales, sweat beading down his temple. "So good, sweetheart..."

"Cheol..."

"Hm? Tell me what's wrong."

You glance down at the hand between your legs, feeling short of breath from watching the way your slick seems to coat Seungcheol's fingers, some staining your thigh, some smeared on the palm of his hand. You suck in a big breath, stomach caving in. When you return your gaze to him, you're surprised to find he's already looking at you, the tip of his pink tongue peeking out to rest against his bottom lip. The way he's looking at you makes you feel sweltering hot.

"My shirt, p-please," you stutter out, feeling suffocated in only one layer of clothing.

Seungcheol immediately understands what you're asking, but he makes no move to take your shirt off. You whine when he suddenly retracts his fingers from your pussy, leaving you feeling so empty. He peels your hand off his cock, leaving you baffled and so goddamn frustrated.

"Cheol, why'd—"

He hushes you, lowering himself onto the end of the bed. He grabs both your thighs, pulling you down from the headboard. His cock nudges against the back of your thigh, so close to where you want him the most.

"Oh, God," you breathlessly pant. "Need you inside me," you tell him, feeling frenzied. You move to pull off your shirt, but he grunts, shaking his head.

"Don't," he orders, using his grip on your thighs to spread your legs wide enough for him to be able to get a good view of your sloppy cunt, all slick and puffy from the onslaught of his fingers. "I like seeing you in my shirt," he says in a faraway voice, distracted by the sight of your pussy, hole clenching around nothing, almost inviting him to dive right in.

You groan, propping yourself up onto your elbows, chest heaving. You lick at your dry lips, sending Seungcheol a pleading look, but he doesn't meet your eyes, too absorbed with the mess in between your legs. "Cheol, baby—"

Without warning, Seungcheol leans down, shoving his face into your pussy, mouth hungrily devouring your heat. You fall back onto the bed with a startled shout, jaw hanging open as you try to comprehend the sudden onslaught of pleasure that threatens to consume you whole. Seungcheol is good with his mouth and familiar enough with your body to know how to bring you close to the edge in only minutes.

He's sucking at your clit noisily, manic with his movements like a starved man getting his first taste of food after days without it. He's greedy and ravenous, offering you no respite—not even a moment to catch your breath.

You try to tell Seungcheol to slow down, to give you even a second to compose yourself, but only garbled moans of his name come out. By now, sleep is the last thing on your mind—only pleasure clouds it. You're trembling under him, helpless against the relentless assault of his mouth.

When Seungcheol groans, the vibration on your most sensitive part makes you choke on air, lowering a hand down to grab the strands of his dark hair. When you try to move away from him, he clutches onto your thighs tighter, tongue teasing at your hole, swirling but never diving in. You're still trying to get away, overwhelmed. He notices this, and he brings both his arms around your thighs, hugging your legs close around his head. There's no room to move—he has you locked in.

"Fuck, please, please, s-slow down! C-Cheol!"

He doesn't, lapping up all your juices, groaning at how your taste coats his tongue and how your smell overtakes his senses. He trusts you to say the safe word if it becomes too much. He also knows that you can take this—he has done far worse things to you before.

The tip of his nose presses against your clit when he delves his tongue into your pussy, earning a rather rough pull of his hair from you. The pain shoots down his spine, making him slump down onto the bed to grind his bare cock on the bed. All of it makes him so light-headed. Your legs are tightening around his head, trapping him, but he doesn't mind, not even if your moans sound muffled this way. He'll get to hear you later when he fucks you silly into the mattress anyway.

Tears brim in your eyes. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, dry from moaning so much. It's almost too much—how he is so ruthless with his mouth and tongue. He doesn't let up once, breathing in and out through his nose, delighted to be suffocated between your plush thighs. It's pure fucking torture, but it feels divine.

"Cheol... C-Close," you whisper, hoping he can hear you.

He doesn't hear you, but he knows you enough by now. He knows the telltale sign of your orgasm approaching, knows how tight you get when you're about to cum, knows how your back arches and your toes curl. He looks at your face and reads your lips, repetitions of his name spilling past it.

Then he's pulling your legs away from the sides of his head, ripping his mouth from your pussy. Your orgasm is brutally stolen from you, and the sheer frustration that surges through you makes you howl out his name. To make it worse, he only chuckles at you, hands rubbing comfortingly at the side of your thighs. The touch should be soothing, but it only leaves you angered.

The sheer audacity of this man—

"You asshole," you spit out with all the venom you can muster, chest rising and falling rapidly. Tears of frustration trickle down your cheeks, and Seungcheol thinks the sight would be so lovely if he hadn't just been devouring you like you were his first meal in months.

"Aw, don't be like that, baby..." he coos sweetly, lips and chin glossy with your juices. He wipes his face with the back of his hand before swiftly grabbing at your soiled panties, pulling them off you and tossing them somewhere in the room. He adjusts your legs, straightening both and letting them dangle over one of his shoulders. Holding his cock in his hand, he strokes it twice and then runs the tip up and down your slit.

"Choi Seungcheol, you're—you..." you trail off, finding yourself drawing a blank, still shocked by how he so meanly robbed you of your orgasm when it had been right at your fingertips. That, combined with how his cock is lightly dipping into your hole, leaves you feeling an untamed emotion, a sensation of chaos where you feel completely out of control, an experience both terrifying and exhilarating.

"Did you just call me Choi Seungcheol? We've been together for years, baby—let's not use full names now," he warns you before he sinks into you in one fell swoop, stuffing you full of every inch of him. There's a brief flash of pain as you try to adjust to the sudden stretch, hands tugging at the bedsheets and eyes rolling back. You hear him chuckle, prompting you to look up at him. You regret it almost immediately because the sight of him makes your hips lift off the bed, a strangled moan leaving you.

Your orgasm crashes into you like a freight train, sudden and jarring. You don't even register it yourself at first, at least not until the overwhelming ecstasy makes you go stiff in Seungcheol's hold, sobbing at the surge of pleasure that has striked you so abruptly. You had not had time to prepare yourself, so you try grounding yourself by grabbing his biceps and clawing at the smooth skin, leaving tender, red marks.

"G-God, oh God, Cheollie," you whine, pinching your eyes shut because everything feels too fucking good, and you're struggling to bring yourself down from this euphoria and anchor yourself in the present.

Seungcheol doesn't realise what's happening right away. He feels the way you clench hard around him, walls squeezing him so tight that he can't help but let out a small groan. He's caught off guard when he feels your nails digging into his arms. You're writhing underneath him—quivering, shaking—and finally, it dawns on him what has just unfolded. You just fucking came, all because he had eased his cock into your warm cunt.

"Oh, baby..." he mutters, snickering quietly to himself. He coaxes you through your orgasm, pressing soft kisses on the side of your thigh. "Shh, good girl, that's it, ride it out for me, darling..." he murmurs against your skin, fighting back the urge to start moving his hips and fucking you through your orgasm. You've never been this sensitive before, and he knows he needs to approach this situation carefully. He doesn't want to overstimulate you too much and too soon, both for your sake and his.

Seungcheol is equally perplexed and impressed at how little it had taken you to cum. All he had to do was slip himself into you, and you were coming undone under him? He feels his cock twitch at the thought. Seungcheol's only a man, and what you did has inflated his ego tenfold. He thinks nothing could ever top this moment, and he doesn't intend to let you live it down.

You're not sure just how long it takes you to collect yourself. A gentle palm smoothes down your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. The soft voice is murmuring your name, pulling you back down, down, down from your drunken daze.

"I'm sorry," you say, still a little disoriented, gaze unfocused. You see Seungcheol's outline and see his lips moving, but you don't hear anything except the pounding of your heart in your ears. You blink a few times, forcing yourself to adjust and snap out of whatever trance you were momentarily stuck in. "I'm sorry," you repeat after finally regaining your awareness. Your eyes zero in on Seungcheol—you can see him clearly now.

"Darling, believe me, an apology is the last thing I need," he says, slightly relieved that you seem to be returning to your senses now. He carefully sets your legs to the side, leaning down and hovering over you with a leering smile. He has you caged in his arms, looming over you with his broad frame, making you feel small. "All I need—" he begins, nosing at your jaw, breathing in your smell, "—is for you to beg."

You let out a shuddering breath, feeling the tip of his cock nudge at the back of your thigh. Somewhere in the middle of your orgasm, Seungcheol had pulled himself out of your pussy, knowing he would most likely reach his own climax if you kept clamping down on him the way you did.

"Beg?" you echoed back, tilting your head up, giving him more access to litter kisses on your neck.

"Mhm..." He lets his teeth graze over the sensitive skin under your jaw, not biting, just gliding over your pulse point. "Beg me to make you cum again." He ends his sentence with a playful nip on your jaw, loving how you jolt under him in surprise.

His request isn't unusual or odd in any way. Seungcheol has said worse things to you before—things so filthy and obscene it would make a sailor blush. His words carry an unfamiliar weight this time, provoking a shyness in you that you never anticipated would be caused by his words alone.

Warmth begins to creep up your neck, and a lump forms in your throat as something akin to humiliation washes over you. The weight of the situation starts to dawn on you. Seungcheol hadn't even had the chance to move before you were creaming all over him like a bitch in heat. The thought of it makes you want to curl into yourself and hide until morning.

Seungcheol must feel you tensing up because he's immediately pulling away from the crook of your neck, searching your face with his eyes. You avert your eyes to the side, unable to meet his gaze with the wild embarrassment coursing through you.

"What's wrong?" he asks you. "Look at me, baby..."

You sigh, knowing he wouldn't just let this go. Still, as you drag your gaze back to his, you can't help the shameful furrow of your eyebrows.

Seungcheol immediately knows. "Are you... embarrassed?" he asks, the corners of his mouth curling up just slightly.

You groan, pushing at his chest to get him to roll over to his side of the bed. He doesn't resist, moving over to give you enough space to sit up on the bed. "Ugh... 'm not embarrassed," you grumble, tucking your feet under your legs so you're sitting cross-legged on the bed. You feel Seungcheol's hand on your back, palm warm over the shirt you're still wearing as he rubs up and down to soothe you. The gesture only makes you feel even more ashamed, especially since you can hear the quiet laughter he's emitting beside you.

Seungcheol finds it so endearing when you press your hands to your face, hiding yourself from him. His grin widens when you whine into your hands. "What are you so embarrassed for?" he asks, fully knowing the answer but still baffled about how you're so flustered from doing something that he wants to keep stored in his memory until the end of his days. The way your bewildered face had morphed into one of pure ecstasy as your orgasm washed over you is something he wants to be able to replay in his mind again and again.

His cock jerks at the memory, and he swiftly hauls the comforter up to the middle of his torso to cover himself up. He calls out your name softly, but you don't answer him, still hiding yourself with your hands. He lets out a small sigh, knowing he'll have to get your attention some other way.

He soon notices your engagement ring sitting on the bedside table. He knows you avoid wearing it to bed, too worried that it might slip off during the night due to your restless sleeping habits. Then, he comes up with the perfect distraction.

Reaching over, he swiftly grabs the ring from the table before settling back into his previous position. The movement makes you retract your hands from your face, curiously glancing at him.

Seungcheol is smiling, dimples on full display. You resist the urge to poke at the little dents on his cheeks, still feeling bashful about the incident. Then, you notice the small object he's fiddling with in his hand. He's tinkering with your ring, turning it over with his fingers, fitting it around his index, grinning when it doesn't even reach halfway down his digit.

Seungcheol's eyes seem to darken when he returns his gaze back to yours. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he grabs your left hand, fitting the ring on your finger. The way it fits so perfectly around your supple finger evokes something primal within him. How such a small thing can symbolise the commitment and love you both have for each other is such a wonder to him. He knows that no wealth or material possessions could ever encapsulate the depth of affection he holds for you, let alone this piece of jewellery.

"If this is your way of distracting me so I don't think about what happened earlier..."

Seungcheol rolls his eyes playfully. "You're welcome to forget about it all you want, but it's gonna keep playing in my mind like a broken record whether you like it or not."

You release a sigh but refrain from arguing because Seungcheol's words ring sincere, and you're aware he wouldn't acknowledge your embarrassment anyway.

He brings your hand to his mouth, tenderly kissing the ring. The gesture is intimate, even if he feels something entirely more carnal stirring in his stomach. "You're so much smaller than me. Could barely even fit the ring on my finger," he comments, thumbing at the small diamond sitting prettily atop the ring.

Through your blush, you manage a reserved smile. "That's because you're so thick everywhere."

You don't mean the sentence in a weird way, but judging from Seungcheol's booming laughter, he definitely misinterpreted your words. He squeezes your hand once before tugging you down to settle half of your body on top of his. He lets you join him under the covers before cupping your cheek, urging you to look at him.

"I'm thick everywhere, hm?" he teases you, watching how red immediately stains your cheeks.

"Don't be gross," you grumble, letting him trail kisses from your wrist, then up to your palm, and settling on your ring. "What's with you and the ring anyway?" you ask him, finding it sweet but slightly odd that he seems so fixated on it.

"I just had a thought, that's all," he responds, kissing each of your fingertips.

"Go on."

"That one day—" he says, eyes burning into yours heatedly, "—there'll be a wedding band beside this one, and you'll finally be mine forever." He says it airily, as if it's the most natural proclamation, with unwavering certainty in his emotions.

Your heart sings at the declaration. "You're wrong on the last part." You press a fleeting kiss on his mouth, smiling when his eyebrow raises questioningly. "I don't need to be married to you to be yours."

Seungcheol grins, one of his hands skimming down your back, grabbing a handful of your ass over the oversized shirt you're wearing. "You don't know half the things you do to me, do you?"

"I do, actually, and I plan to abuse that power," you jest, beginning to sit up, throwing one leg over your lover's hips to straddle him.

Seungcheol is awestruck at the sight of you on top of him. You, all beautiful and celestial, and all his. He wants to worship you, ruin you, and defile you all at the same time. He's not in the right mind to say anything yet, so he only watches, both hands gliding up and down your thighs, getting higher each time, hiking the fabric of your shirt higher up as well.

He breathes out a sigh when he allows himself to look down. Your pretty pussy is on display, all for him, with remnants of your juices on it and some smeared on your inner thighs. He's about to touch when you grab his wrist, slowly guiding his hand towards where you need him the most. He knows what you're asking of him, and he'd be stupid to deny you your wish.

You gasp when Seungcheol starts running two of his fingers up and down your slit, coating his fingers in the wetness of your cunt, unafraid to get messy. When he sinks both fingers into your hole, you can't help but mewl, one hand grabbing onto his bicep and the other still wrapped around his wrist.

"So wet for me, darling... You're fucking dripping all over my fingers," he says once he finally regains his voice back.

Seungcheol is much stronger than you, and he could easily rip away the hand on your wrist and finger fuck you to oblivion the way he usually does it. This time, however, he lets you guide him, allows you to move your hips to match the rhythm of his movements, and allows you tug his hand closer to reach deeper into you each time he buries the digits. He's still holding the reigns, and he knows that—even if you're the one sitting on top of him—but seeing you try to handle and manage your pleasure all by yourself is so fucking—"Cute."

"Oh... fuck," you breathe out, swallowing hard when Seungcheol folds his free arm and tucks it under his head. He's pretty—bicep bulging and veins crawling up his arms.

He grins when your pussy tightens around his fingers. "Think you could cum like this?"

"Mhmm..." You sit up straighter, balancing yourself with both hands firmly planted on Seungcheol's shoulders. Slowly, you switch to bouncing on his fingers instead of rolling your hips, wincing slightly at the burn of your thighs. Still, you push through the pain, aching for release, pressure in your stomach tightening at the way his fingers seem to reach deeper inside you at the new angle.

"Pretty, pretty girl," Seungcheol mumbles, more to himself than to you, but you still hear it anyway. It makes you light-headed. You love Seungcheol degrading you during sex, but hearing his compliment brings out a visceral reaction in you. It makes you giddy and scatterbrained—as though every coherent thought in your head simply just... wilts away.

You bite your lip at his praise, eyelids drooping slightly, a dreamy look settling over your gaze. Seungcheol thinks this is his favourite look on you. You're not saying anything, but your eyes tell a story of themselves. He can see it—the way you're practically begging for him and his cock.

"Please," you whisper, continuing to fuck yourself on Seungcheol's fingers, moaning wantonly at the mix of pain and pleasure. You're squeezing his shoulders with your hands, nails occasionally digging into his skin whenever the pleasure becomes a little too much. You're so close, and you think Seungcheol knows it as well.

"That's right, baby. Is my pretty girl close?" he asks, shifting slightly underneath you, cock throbbing at the lack of attention, hard as rock at the adorable sight of you bouncing on top of him. He loves the way you look in his shirt, but he thinks he'd much rather see your perky tits jiggling in his face as you ride him instead.

"Mhm, c-close," you profess, hands restless, wandering down to his smooth chest before settling around the base of his neck. You don't squeeze, only letting your hands linger as you chase your high.

Seungcheol chuckles when he notices the delicate grasp of your hands around his neck. He knows you won't put pressure—you're too meek for that. And no, he's not underestimating you. In fact, you might be the only person in the world capable of reducing him to his knees with a glance. But between the two of you, it has always been him who would dare to do such a courageous feat.

Seungcheol does exactly that. He slips his hand from under his head and clasps it around your neck, watching your eyes widen when he applies the slightest pressure onto the sides of your throat. You always cum so much quicker when he has at least one hand around your neck.

Your whole body stiffens at the contact, pussy fluttering wildly around his two digits. "O-Oh, f-fuck, fuck!" You let your head tip to the side, eyes fluttering close as you near your high. Your legs are starting to go numb, but that's the least of your concerns when your climax feels like it's looming right around the corner.

"Attagirl... that's it," Seungcheol drawls, applying more pressure when he feels your pussy squeezing tight around him. At this point, you must be growing dizzy from the lack of air and blood. He's careful not to apply any more force than he currently is. "What a pretty necklace," he taunts, awed by how perfectly his hand wraps around your neck. You're so much smaller compared to him. "Pretty necklace for my pretty girl..."

"Ungh, 'm cumming," you manage to slur out, movements growing more frantic, rhythm getting more sporadic the closer you get.

"Look at me, sweetheart."

It takes you a few seconds to register what he is asking. Your eyes drag over to his face. It's torture knowing you could be riding his cock instead of his fingers, but you know he'll want you to finish what you started. His fingers are doing a heavenly job, but the stretch isn't quite enough. You don't say that to him, though, knowing he'd probably give you hell for voicing it. He'd say you're insatiable and edge you until there are no tears left for you to cry.

"There you are..." he says once your eyes meet his. There's a hunger in his stare—an unspoken promise of the things he will do to you once you've finished fucking yourself on his fingers. Your whole body tenses, cheeks burning when he nods as though urging you to let go. "Can you look at me when you cum? Can you do that for me?"

When Seungcheol adds the smallest amount of pressure on the grip around your neck, you can't help the unadulterated moan that spills past your lips. You're so fucking dizzy, vision blurring on the edges. It's getting increasingly difficult to keep your eyes locked onto his when the world feels like it's about to crash down on you.

You still have your hands on his neck, and for a moment, you're distracted by how your engagement ring sits on your ring finger. The fat, silver diamond is a stunning contrast to his golden complexion.

"Come on, don't get distracted now. Cum for me so I can finally get you on my cock, hm?"

You come apart with a broken shout of his name, soaking his fingers with your cum, milky slick trickling down his knuckles and dripping on his stomach. At the height of your pleasure, Seungcheol decides to release his hold on your neck, letting the air and blood rush up to your brain. The sudden surge feels exhilarating, rendering you frozen in bliss as the feeling rips through you.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he remarks, his free hand coming up to brush back the hair from your face, letting your head loll into his hand sluggishly as it braces the back of your head. You look exhausted, back slouched and chest heaving. Still, he notices the way you're slowly grinding on his fingers. He knows you need more. "That looked like it felt good."

You nod, letting him slip his fingers out of you, sucking in a sharp breath at the sudden emptiness. "So good. Thank you..." Everything feels like it's aching—your legs, your back, and your pussy most of all. You're far from done, but you allow yourself to rest, lowering yourself to lie on top of him, face buried into his neck. You breathe his scent and allow it to root you in the moment.

Seungcheol wipes his stained fingers on your shirt, tsking you when you whine in protest. "It's literally your cum—why are you so grossed out about it?" he teases.

"Because..." you say slowly. When you realise you have nothing to say, you pick your head up, blinking at him.

Seungcheol hums, eyes amused when he looks down at you. "Mhm?"

You don't have an answer, so you kiss him instead. Seungcheol welcomes the kiss, letting his tongue meet with yours in a feverish kiss that makes your hands cling fervently to his hair. You're shifting on top of him restlessly, letting your pussy settle over the length of his cock, sighing heatedly into his mouth and letting his tongue swirl around yours sloppily.

Seungcheol grunts at the way you let your pussy slip up and down his throbbing cock. Your cunt is hot and so fucking wet, and he feels like he might combust from how good you feel against him.

Two orgasms should've been enough for you, but you know you won't feel fully sated without Seungcheol's cock dipping in and out of your pussy, leaving it all messy in a mix of your cum. You're not sure whether you can cum again, but you do know you want Seungcheol's cum inside of you, and soon.

"Inside," you whisper against Seungcheol's lips, not letting him respond before you smash your lips to his again. Reaching down to grab at his cock, you're just about to line the tip with your hole when he shoves you away with a harsh grip on your arm.

You yelp in surprise, the world turning into a blur, hardly comprehending that you're no longer sitting on top of him. You're now lying on your back, staring wide-eyed up at Seungcheol as he hauls your shirt off, leaving you just as naked as him.

Seungcheol can't help how his eyes gravitate towards your tits, all on full display for his eyes to feast on. "Fucking perfect," he mutters, one hand jerking up and down his cock as his eyes roam up and down your body, taking everything in. The sight isn't foreign to him, but all the blood still rushes to his dick the same way every time. You're too fucking perfect. If ever comes a day that he ever sees a single flaw in your body, he'll fault his eyes instead.

When you sigh, it comes out half a moan. "Hurry, Cheollie," you tell him, spreading your legs wider, holding yourself open with two hands on the back of your knees, baring yourself to him unashamedly. You're too desperate for his cock to worry about self-dignity now.

Seungcheol groans, stomach flipping at the sweetness dripping from your lips when you say his name so endearingly. "Alright, alright..." He presses one hand on the back of your thigh while the other hand grips his cock, running the leaking head up and down your sloppy cunt. "Just don't cum on me too soon like last time, yeah?"

"Why are you bringing that up!"

"Actually... maybe I wouldn't mind. You always shut up so good after you cum." He chuckles at the deathly glare you give him, choosing that exact moment to sink into your awaiting heat, amused when your glare twists into an expression of utter bliss. Oh, he could die happy like this—cock snug in your warm, tight pussy. He allows you a few seconds to adjust, letting his hands travel all the places of your body that he can reach, leaving your skin prickling.

"Move, Cheol...Please."

Seungcheol smirks at your pleading, watching the way you spread your legs even wider for him—inviting and beckoning him to take you like you're the sweetest and ripest forbidden fruit. "How do you want it, pretty?"

Your eyebrows knit in frustration. Surely , he's trying to tease you, purposely prolonging whatever this is when he could already be fucking you into the mattress by now. Still, you humour him, hoping he will give in. "Any way you want, I'll take it."

Seungcheol nods with a hum, nibbling at the insides of his cheeks as he glances down at the point where his cock disappears into your pussy. "Any way I want, hm?" he echoes back, swiping a thumb at your swollen clit, snickering when your hips jump, causing his cock to slip out, heavy girth springing up to smack against his stomach.

You reach down with one hand, guiding his cock back to your pussy, desperate to be filled again. "Please, just please." The words come out frantic, almost distraught. "I need you."

Eventually, Seungcheol relents to your pleas. You look so pretty when you're begging for his cock, and that look you're giving him—you look delirious already, and he has barely done a thing.

"Shh, I've got you, sweetheart," he mutters, slipping back inside. Much to your delight, he doesn't dawdle this time. Although he does start off slow, pressing forward until his balls are pressed firmly against your ass each time he sinks in, earning a quiet sigh from you every time. "Pussy taking me so well, princess..."

At this pace, you're able to feel every slide of his cock against your pussy, the way the veins along his length rub against your walls so delectably. "God, f-fuck, fuck, Seungcheol..."

Your lover is watching your face closely, groaning now and then whenever your walls tighten around him, but amused for the most part. He doesn't want to seem arrogant, but he thinks it's incredibly flattering that you still react this way to his cock after years of being together. You're always so eager for him, shivering under his caresses as if you're starved of his touch, as if he has never sunk himself into your tight pussy again and again, only to come back for more.

Even now, as he hooks his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to him, you're sighing out his name so exquisitely, the syllables rolling off your tongue effortlessly. Your pussy drips for him, the sweet nectar leaking onto his cock, staining your inner thighs.

A frustrated groan bubbles in your throat as you prop yourself up onto your elbows, scowling at the man who is currently not fucking you the way you both deserve it. The drag of his cock feels good, but you need more, and you know he does too. "Cheollie," you mewl in your sweetest voice, one hand grasping a handful of your breast, squeezing it in the hope of enticing him to go faster. "Need you to go faster, please..."

Seungcheol doesn't try to hide his smirk, stopping the movement of his hips entirely. He knows you're trying to lure and tempt him, just like the seductress you are. He would be lying if he said your siren gaze and the sultry lilt of your voice don't make him feel as though he's spellbound. It's hard not to give in when you're looking up at him like you want him to wreck and pillage your body until you are practically ruined for everyone else but him.

When you flash him a saccharine smile, it's as if there is a magnetic pull drawing him down closer to you, mouth hovering over yours. He breathes you in, painfully aware of how his cock twitches inside you when you peer at him through your lashes.

"I thought you said you'd take anything I give you," Seungcheol mumbles, hot breath fanning against your lips. He pecks your lips once, angling his head to the side when you try to lean in for more, rejecting your kiss. He coos when you pout at his rejection. "So take what I'm giving you. That's what you promised me, isn't it?"

Then he swoops down lower to trail kisses down your jaw and neck, nipping at your collarbone. You're scowling at his statement, irked that he's using your words against you. Seungcheol doesn't seem to care about your current predicament, licking his way down to the slope of your breast, biting down on the skin with enough force to make it hurt.

"Don't you want to feel good, Cheollie? Why are you making this longer than it should be?"

"Oh, don't you worry about me, darling. I'm very much enjoying myself," he murmurs, pressing tender kisses on the side of your breast.

You're opening your mouth to retaliate but decide against it at the last second. Instead, you press your mouth together, saying nothing as you lie back on the bed. You'll let Seungcheol have his way with you for now. Whatever game he's playing right now won't last long, and his control will crumble eventually—at least, that's what you're hoping.

When Seungcheol wraps his lips around your nipple, you let his name escape you in a sigh. His mouth is warm as he gently suckles, tongue circling the pebbled bud. You don't need to look down at him to know he's looking up at your face, taking in your reaction. "Feels good..." you pant when he stretches his jaw open further, taking more of your breast into his mouth, teeth skimming over tender skin.

Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer as you arch your back. The slight shift makes your brain short-circuit for a moment as his cock seems to burrow deeper inside of you, sending a flash of heat through your body. "Fuck, so big..."

Seungcheol hums against your chest, still sucking earnestly, lapping at your nipple with his tongue, pulling back now and then to look at the way your chest glistens with his spit. After some time, he switches to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment, making sure it's covered in his spit just the same as the other one.

You're not sure whether Seungcheol realises it, but his hips have started moving again, cock pushing in and out with no precise pattern, only seeking the warmth of your cunt as it sinks in repeatedly. It's addicting but agonising as well because you want more, and you're not sure whether you can hold out any longer. "Cheol," you softly call out, hoping to gain his attention. You don't wait for him to respond before speaking again. "Need you to fuck me, please..."

He pulls back slightly, blowing cold air on your damp chest, making you shudder. "Aren't I already?" he asks as he litters kisses on the valley of your breasts, fucking into you less distractedly this time, the force of his thrust growing harder.

You nod, breath stuttering when he finally gains speed, not as fast as you'd like but enough for your mind to go hazy. "Y-Yeah, just need—fuck—just need more..."

Seungcheol's laugh comes out a little shaky. He pushes himself back onto his knees, ignoring your whine at the loss of his warmth. "Are you being greedy, princess?" He gathers both your legs together, letting them dangle over one of his shoulders, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs soothingly when he hears your sigh of relief from the switch of position.

"I'm not being greedy," you grit out, looking up at him, hissing when he delivers a notably hard thrust. "Please, please, just... faster..."

"See, what'd I say? That was you being greedy." Seungcheol admires you from this position, drinking in the quiet sounds you're emitting, savouring the fluttering of your pussy around his cock.

Your eyes begin to brim with frustrated tears. You love the man with all your heart, but this is taking it a little far, even for you. You're yearning for him, blood pounding in your ears, skin aflame with desire and an insatiable hunger that threatens to swallow you entirely. How much longer do you have to wait?

"I can't, Cheol," you sniff, tears spilling onto your cheeks. "P-Please, I really can't—"

Seungcheol shouldn't feel so satisfied with how you're crying from how overwhelming it is, but an undeniable sense of fulfilment washes over him at the sight of your tears. This is what he wanted, after all—to test your limit and push you to the edge. "Alright, sweetheart, don't cry, I've got you..."

With a kiss to your calf, Seungcheol finally grants you what you've been begging for all night, quickly finding a rhythm that immediately garners a loud cry out of you. He sighs, cock finally finding relief at the friction. He enjoyed the game while it lasted, but this—it makes him think that maybe he should've given in sooner. You could've been filled to the brim with his cum by now if it hadn't been for his stubbornness to see you pushed to your breaking point. With this thought in mind, Seungcheol fucks into you even harder, trying to make up for lost time.

More tears escape your eyes, but it's not out of frustration this time. It's incredible how quickly the tiny sparks of pleasure can become something mighty—an unreckonable force that racks through your whole body, vicious and ruthless, almost cruel in a way.

"Still with me?" Seungcheol asks, gritting his teeth at how well you're taking him, his hands squeezing onto your thighs roughly, the hold almost painful. But you're too preoccupied with your own pleasure to care about whether or not his hands will leave bruises.

"Baby, you still with me?" he repeats.

"Hmm..."

Seungcheol shakes his head, not satisfied with your answer. "Talk to me, sweetheart."

"Y-Yeah," you respond, breathing in sharply. "With you..." Your words trail off into a low moan, a sound that makes Seungcheol's eyes flutter shut as he ruts into you faster.

The sound of skin slapping against skin resonates through the bedroom. It's lewd and unmistakable. His balls slap against your puffy folds with each thrust, sending your slick splattering everywhere—on your ass, on the bed, some droplets even landing on his thighs. He loves it when you get all sloppy for him like this.

Your hand claws at his own, nails digging into his wrist. Seungcheol lets you remove his hand from your thigh, a growl ripping in his chest when he realises your intention. Before he knows it, he has his palm splayed on your breast, one of your smaller hands resting atop his, guiding him to squeeze. He squeezes once, then twice, relishing the way you moan for him when he does. "That's it, always so good for me. You deserve this, yeah?"

"Don't stop, C-Cheol..." When you look up at him, he seems torn between looking at your face or down at the spot where his cock meets your pussy. He doesn't settle on one, letting his eyes flicker back and forth, breathing growing ragged when he notices your eyes on him.

"Why would I stop, baby?" He lets his free hand settle on your unoccupied breast, kneading gently, enjoying how you writhe underneath him at the contact. Both hands pinch at your nipples, twisting just barely until they harden in his ministrations. "Why would I stop when you feel this good?"

You hadn't been sure at first whether you still had it in you to cum another time after doing it twice in a short span of time, but a single glance at Seungcheol has you disoriented. Something is churning in your stomach, coiling and winding like a tightly wound spring, poised to release if twisted a little further. The more you look at Seungcheol, the less focused your gaze becomes. Tiny beads of sweat trace a glistening path down his temple, and fine strands of hair cling to his forehead—a testament to the strenuous effort he has exerted thus far.

"Cheol..." you whine, tensing your thighs together, arching your chest up into his rough touches.

"I know, I know... I can feel you tightening around me," he grits out, veins in his neck jutting out as he continues to strain himself through his thrusts, beginning to lose himself in the feeling of being buried inside your heat. He retracts his hands from your chest to grab each side of your hips. This way, he has more control of your body, able to pull you down onto his cock every time he thrusts in, pressing into you deeper. "Shit, you feel so good, princess. So fucking good, taking me so well. You love this cock, don't you?"

You don't know whether Seungcheol knows how much his words affect you, but you certainly feel the tingling shudder lick a path from the base of your back to the nape of your neck. You let him grapple at your hips and move you however he pleases, using you for his pleasure.

"Say you love this cock, princess."

"Love it—fill me up so well, love your cock..." you slur.

"That's right, always so needy for it."

Seungcheol has been holding himself back for some time now, his balls heavy, ready for release. With the way your pussy envelopes him so nicely and the way you're moaning and whining out his name, he knows it will only be a matter of time before he finishes. "You close, baby?" he asks you, chest heaving with every laboured breath he takes. His eyes are screwed shut, afraid he'd cum too soon if he catches a glimpse of your fucked-out face and bouncing tits.

"Mmph, feels s-so good..."

Seungcheol brings one hand down to the space between your legs, slipping his thumb through the tight press of your plush thighs, quickly finding your clit. He doesn't take into account, however, the way your pussy would tighten around his dick as soon as he starts drawing quick circles around the sensitive bud. He doesn't have the time to warn you, only letting out a strained growl of your name as he is thrown over the edge, emptying himself inside you, filling you up in ribbons of cum that seem never-ending.

Taken by surprise, you can only squeal, wide eyes searching for his as you grab onto his wrist. Seungcheol keeps his hips pressed to yours, balls smearing slick over your ass as he fills you to the brim. You keen at the feeling, toes curling as you savour the warmth of his cum as it paints your walls white.

He shudders as the last spurts finally spill inside you, his hips rocking gently on their own, riding out the last few seconds. "Fuck, baby," he groans. He's panting, trying to suck in as much air into his lungs as he can with each inhale, the impact of his orgasm hitting more forcefully since he had been unintentionally edging himself for the past hour or so.

He knows you will eventually ask for more, but he's relieved you're giving him time to recover. He leans his head against your calf and closes his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing. It's hard because the thought that you're still in front of him, naked, dripping his seed, makes him feel winded in a way that is obscene.

"Cheol..."

"Yeah?" he grunts.

"You okay?"

He lets your legs fall from his shoulder, gently setting it down onto the bed, easing you to lie on your side. "Mhm... m' fine," he swallows, "just give me a minute."

When he slides out of you, you let slip a squeak that makes Seungcheol crack a small smile. He splays a hand on the back of your thigh, leaning back slightly to catch a glimpse of the mess between your legs. He can't help the stirring of his cock as he watches driblets of his cum leak out of you, seeping into the bedsheets.

Seungcheol finds it difficult to tear his eyes away from the glorious sight of your ruined cunt. He suddenly finds himself in a predicament. He knows he needs to take a breather, even if there is a part of him that aches to bury himself into you and fill you with his cum for the second time tonight.

Finally, he settles himself beside you, positioning himself so that he's spooning you from behind. He brushes his hand down from your shoulder to your arm and then down the enticing curve of your waist. Your skin is soft and supple against his palm. His caresses must tickle because your giggles fill his ears as you writhe away from his teasing touch. "Cheol..." your whine of his name makes a rush of affection wash over him.

Seungcheol grins, pushing himself up onto his elbow to lean over you just enough to nestle his face into the crook of your neck. When he nips at your jaw, you let out a breathless sigh, and he knows it won't be long until you ask him for more. He would give you more if only he hadn't just finished twice over the course of an hour. He will have to find another way to satiate your hunger.

Your eyes flutter shut, humming when you feel Seungcheol's lips on your shoulder blade. You don't say anything as you push your lower half into him, which earns a grunt from the man as his sensitive cock comes into contact with your ass. Much to your dismay, his hand immediately flies to your waist, gently moving you away from him.

"Baby," he rasps, the strain discernible in his voice. He pecks your lips when you tilt your head to pout at him. "Turn over and face me, hm?"

Slightly confused, you do as he says anyway, gasping when he pulls you into him with a hand on your lower back. With your chest pressed into his and face only inches away, you give him a questioning look, circling your arms around his neck and pressing a brief kiss to his lips. "Now what?"

Seungcheol responds by kissing you. His kiss is hard and fierce, stealing your breath as he sinks his teeth into your lower lip, soothing the stinging bite with a fleeting sweep of his tongue. You arch into him, moaning into his mouth when you feel his free hand trail up your chest to settle on the nape of your neck, allowing him to have a better reign.

Something presses against your aching cunt, and you have to break away with a dazed gasp, peering down between your bodies. Seungcheol has shoved his leg between yours, angling his thigh upward to press against you.

The hand on your back moves to the dip of your waist, encouraging you to roll your hips back and forth. The realisation of what he wants you to do makes you whimper. "Oh, God—"

"Shh, just focus on me, sweetheart. You can be a good girl and ride my thigh, yeah?"

When you try to respond, nothing comes out except a garbled moan. You must look so salacious to him—moving your hips back and forth like a desperate whore, dragging your wet pussy against his thigh, eyes rolling back from the simulation on your clit. You swear you see stars dancing in your vision, skin prickling as every thought in your mind withers into nothing.

"That's it, I can feel how warm you are... So fucking warm and wet."

You try to kiss him again but find yourself pulling away shortly after, too dazed to keep up with the force of Seungcheol's kisses. His thigh is drenched and sticky from the mixture of your juices and his cum that has leaked out of your hole, but he keeps you stable with a firm grip on the back of your thigh. Whenever you roll your hips, the squelching sound from between your thighs is distinct, and it makes your whole face burn.

With a sigh of his name, you weave your fingers through his hair, tugging when the stimulation becomes too intense for your liking. It feels fucking euphoric—the way his solid thigh feels against your soaked pussy as it drags up, down, up, down—but it's somehow not enough at the same time.

Seungcheol thinks your moans sound like angels singing in his ears, and he eagerly drinks it all in, watching your face intently at the same time, relishing the way your eyes roll back during moments when the pleasure washes over you in waves. "So cute."

"Fuck, Cheol, 's not enough..."

Seungcheol's mouth stretches into a grin, letting a few seconds pass in silence as he watches you rut desperately against his thigh, so keen to reach your long-awaited high. "Not enough? You're dripping all over me, though?" To prove his point, he withdraws his thigh from between your legs, shushing you when you whine in protest. "Let's see..."

Two of his fingers swipe at the sticky residue on his thigh. He lifts his hand to your face, showing the glossy remnant on his fingers. To further taunt you, he spreads the fingers apart, allowing a stringy thread of the creamy slick to bridge the gap between the two digits. He doesn't bother concealing his smirk when your sheepish face comes into focus, cheeks red from a combination of arousal and shame.

You huff when he sticks his fingers into his mouth, tasting the slick that clings to it. The deep hum that rumbles in his chest kindles a fire in you that you know can only be doused by Seungcheol's touch alone. You can only watch, stunned, mind teeming with a flurry of wild thoughts as he finally removes his fingers from his mouth.

"Now you choose, princess. It's either my thigh or nothing at all."

It takes you a moment to decipher his words. "But that's not fair..." you whine.

"Just choose."

"I don't wanna..."

"Time's ticking."

You give in—of course you do. Knowing Seungcheol, he probably would stay true to his words. He wouldn't have any problem leaving you high and dry as he excuses himself to the bathroom to clean himself up. Then, he would come back to bed as if nothing had happened, and he wouldn't give in no matter how much you cling to him and beg for even an ounce of his attention. Then you'd have to wait until the morning to finally get some relief, either by his fingers or tongue, because he always insists on fucking you only after he has had his dose of morning coffee. It's infuriating, but it would be a lie if you said you didn't enjoy his pesky games.

"Fine... Your thigh is fine."

"Use your big girl words."

"I need your thigh, please, Cheol. Pretty please..."

Seungcheol pauses briefly, letting your words sink in before he nods in approval. "Alright, if you insist."

When he slots his thigh between your legs again, it's as if you've stumbled upon an oasis amid a scorching drought. The pleasure is liberating, and you're sighing his name against the crook of his neck, melting into his touch, going putty in his hold. You're grasping at both his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as the tautness in your stomach gradually builds again. It's slow, almost torturous, but the mounting tension from before has you trembling, and Seungcheol notices. He always does.

"Breathe," he reminds you, tapping your cheek gently to ensure you hear him. "Take your time and breathe, 'm not going anywhere."

"Unghh, I don't know if I can—"

"You can, baby," he encourages softly.

Seungcheol pulls you even closer by your thigh, hitching your leg a little higher against his hips, spreading you open a little more. He can feel you throbbing against him, and the warmth emanating from between your legs makes him feel heady.

"Fuck," he cusses, wishing so badly it was his cock that was making you writhe in his embrace and cry out his name so sweetly. "Stay with me. Are you close?"

You sob at the question. "I don't know. God, C-Cheol..."

"Hey, look at me, princess." Seungcheol nods when you finally compose yourself enough to look at him. "Breathe, and focus on me."

The movement of your hips doesn't stop as he mutters his instructions.

"Uh-uh, keep your eyes on me," he reprimands when he notices your gaze flittering down to the glistening mess on his thigh. "That's right, keep those pretty eyes on me. That's it..."

You're sure you've lost all your ability to communicate effectively or conjure up a coherent sentence. The only word you manage to babble and stutter out is Seungcheol's name. No matter how much you try, you can't help the shaking of your legs or the ragged rise and fall of your chest as you try to gulp in enough air. It feels so fucking good—you want to tell him—but nothing comes out except choked moans and whimpers.

"Don't worry about anything else. Just focus on the feeling..."

"C-Cheol, 'm close... I don't—I'm—"

"Shh, just relax. It's going to feel so good when you let go," Seungcheol says, hand still secure on the back of your thigh, helping you grind down against him. He thinks he might need a long, cold shower after this is all over.

When you breathe in, the smell of Seungcheol's tantalising cologne fills your nose, and you can't help but cry out. The mix of patchouli and bergamot combined with the natural scent of his musk makes you tense against him. He smells heavenly. He smells like home. "Oh my God, ungh—"

"It's okay, you can cum. No one's stopping you."

Your eyes drift over his face, focusing on every feature and every detail, no matter how minuscule. Ultimately, it is precisely the look in his dark eyes that throws you over the edge. His eyes have an allure to them—filled with desire and longing that dance wildly in the shadows, luring you into their mysterious depth.

The pleasure doesn't hit you all at once—it starts from the end of your toes, trailing up your legs, erupting into flurries of flames in your stomach, winding up your spine like an electric current that singes at every nerve. The euphoria builds like a crescendo, like a warmth that blossoms into an inferno and sweeps through your whole being. Your skin burns, but you feel as though you're drowning—chest tight, eyes glassy, mouth agape in a silent shout. Blood roars in your ears, and each heartbeat feels like a drumbeat, pounding against the confines of your ribcage, a relentless rhythm that drowns out every other sound.

When the pleasure finally subsides, it leaves a lingering warmth that seems to simmer under your skin. It's a pleasant buzzing, one that makes you feel drowsy. You slump against Seungcheol, hiding your face in his bare chest, trying to hide your bashful smile that would give away how blissful you currently feel. You breathe in his perfume, grounding yourself, soaking in the heat of his body as he gently brushes a palm up and down your back.

Seungcheol tenderly clasps your hand, lifting it delicately to plant a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist. His kisses trail down, mouth caressing each fingertip before turning your hand gently. With utmost reverence, he presses his lips against the glimmering engagement ring on your finger, bestowing it with two tender pecks, a silent promise sealed in each kiss.

"I love you," he whispers against your temple, nosing at your cheekbone. "But do you think you could cum that fast again?"

Still recovering from your high, you struggle to grasp his words. "What do you mean?"

"Like before. I mean, I was barely in you, and you were cumming all over me so fast I almost didn't realise—"

Your loud gasp cuts him off. "You are such a dick! Stop talking about that!"

"Never!" he objects, dimples showing when he grins. "It's going to make for the perfect story to tell to all our friends—"

Deciding your words won't effectively shut his blabbering mouth, you're left with no choice but to resort to slapping his arm instead, not stopping until he seizes your wrist, effectively thwarting your assault on him.

"Okay, okay," he concedes with a laugh. "I'm just kidding. That story will forever stay with me and me only. I'm sorry, okay?"

"You don't look sorry."

"You're right, it was just so fucking hot—"

"You're insufferable. Break off our engagement right now."

The faux horror that overtakes his face is hilarious. "Alright, I'll stop. I really am sorry. Seriously."

You giggle at the admission. "You're stuck with me, you know? There's no backing out of a marriage with me."

He playfully sighs. "Hm, I'm not so sure about that.. I mean, it's not like we're already married—"

"Nice try, but I've already picked out my dress, and it's non-refundable."

"True, and I've just put a baby in you as well, so..."

You lean back, flashing him an incredulous look. "Again, nice try. Still on the pills, dummy."

"And what if they suddenly just... vanished?"

Snickering, you sit up, feeling unbearably icky and sweaty. "Why don't you marry me first, and then we can try having children. Deal?" You don't wait for his response, pushing yourself off the bed and shuffling your way to the bathroom. You can almost feel his eyes burning lasers into your bare ass.

"Why don't you start calling me daddy from now on? You know, for practice?"

"Absolutely not."

"What do you think about having four children?"

"I love you too, Seungcheol."

"Is that a yes?"

"You're cute."

There's a pause. "So, yes?"

"What should we do this weekend?"

You hear him get off the bed, his thundering footsteps drawing nearer. "Stop changing the subject!"

3K notes · View notes

unclewaynemunson · 9 months

Text

It wasn't the first time Eddie woke up to an empty bed after having someone spend the night. But it for sure was the first time it caught him by surprise.

He had been pretty sure things were different, with Steve. There was a real, proper date before they ended up in Eddie's bed together, after all. They held hands, they cuddled, they did all the romantic shit that Eddie used to scoff at and skip right past, before he got to know Steve Harrington. It hadn't felt like it was just about the sex: there had been tender touches and sweet words and soft kisses, and falling asleep in each other's arms afterwards had felt more intimate than anything Eddie had ever experienced before. So it didn't make sense to wake up and see no trace of Steve. No note, not a single piece of evidence that Steve had been there, not even something as dumb as a forgotten sock. Nothing.

As he went through his morning ritual of coffee, cereal and cigarette, he felt confusion make place for anger. By the time he was dressed and looking at himself while brushing his teeth in front of the crappy old bathroom mirror, he wondered how he could ever have been stupid enough to think that Steve would stay. The realization that Steve had apparently only used him to get what he wanted and dropped the act as soon as that happened, made him feel gross. He spit out his toothpaste with way more force than necessary and jumped in his van to tell Steve exactly that Eddie wasn't the kind of guy who tolerated being toyed with like that.

-----

When Eddie barged into Family Video, Steve was standing at one of the shelves with a big pile of tapes in his arms, the store empty and quiet except for some movie playing on the big screen in the background.

He looked up at the sound of the bell, and actually had the audacity to smile a soft, almost tender smile when he saw Eddie coming in.

"Hey there."

And, well, that truly did it for Eddie.

"Hey there?!" he repeated in a loud, shrill voice. "Seriously, Steve? What the hell, man? You sneak out of my bed after making me think what we did actually meant something, and now you greet me with a "hey there" like nothing has even happened?!"

Steve frowned; he looked genuinely surprised. Seriously, had none of the dozens of girls he probably pulled this on ever told him off? Or were they all worth staying for, contrary to Eddie the Freak Munson?

"Wha- What do you mean, making you think it meant something?" Steve stuttered. "It meant something. At least," he shrugged lightly and his cheeks colored into a light shade of pink, "to me it did."

For obvious reasons, Eddie found that a little bit hard to believe.

"Then why the hell did you sneak away at the crack of dawn like it was just some goddamn one-night stand?!"

Steve stared at him for a couple of seconds, his mouth falling open. Eddie had seen him look confused plenty of times before, but never like this - like he was missing something huge.

"I - I was allowed to stay?" Steve finally uttered. And it sounded so genuine, so small, so lost... All Eddie's anger easily got knocked out of him with that one question.

"You thought you weren't allowed to stay?" he asked, in a much softer voice this time.

Steve shrugged, suddenly avoiding Eddie's gaze.

"Yeah, I mean... I just assumed..." He swallowed visibly, seemingly searching for words. Finally, he fixed his eyes back on Eddie's face. "You actually wanted me to stay?" It sounded equal parts confused as hopeful, and the look in his brown eyes was so soft and innocent that it almost broke something inside of Eddie.

"Why the hell did you think I wouldn't?"

"I dunno, I just thought..." He looked away again, to a point just behind Eddie's shoulder as he continued, "Whenever a girl would come to my place, they'd always leave right after we finished. Or when I'd come to theirs, they'd have me leave through the window before their parents would notice. Some of them wanted to cuddle for a bit afterwards, but not, like, the whole night, y'know."

"Fuck, Stevie... I -" Eddie could barely believe what Steve was saying; it truly blew his mind that there were so many people who could have Steve Harrington in their bed and not want to keep him there forever. It made him furious - not at Steve, obviously, but at those girls who had made this perfect boy believe that he wasn't the kind of person people would want to keep around for what came after the sex.

"Falling asleep with you last night... That was the best thing that ever happened to me," he told Steve. It felt vulnerable, to say it out loud, but he knew he had to get it all out in the open. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the things we got up to before falling asleep were also pretty damn mind-blowing..." He couldn't help but chuckle. "But of course I wanted you to stay. I thought that would speak for itself."

"Oh," was the only thing Steve said, just blankly staring at Eddie for a couple of seconds. Then, his eyes widened as Eddie's words finally seemed to sink in. "Shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay," Eddie cut him off. "Can you uh," he nodded towards the video tapes in Steve's hands, "Put those away, please?"

Steve placed the pile on the shelf behind him and Eddie immediately launched himself into his arms, pulling him as close as humanly possible without crushing his bones.

With a surprised Oomph! Steve took a few stumbling steps backwards before he caught his balance again, and hugged Eddie back just as tight.

"I'm really sorry, I messed up," he said, his mouth close to Eddie's ear. "I had no idea. If I had known, I would never have left, seriously. I would've called in sick and made you pancakes, and I would've stayed with you in bed all day."

"It's okay," Eddie repeated. "I mean, it's frankly ridiculous that you'd assume I wouldn't want you around every single fucking morning from now on, but -"

"So can I make it up to you tonight?" Steve interrupted him, an eager undertone to his question. "Or actually tomorrow morning, I guess?"

Eddie leaned back slightly to see Steve's face. He was hesitantly smiling at him, and Eddie gave him a beaming smile in return. Then, he leapt forward again to press an impetuous kiss against Steve's lips.

"How 'bout you make it up to me every day from now on, big boy?"

"I dunno, making you pancakes every day from now on is a bit much, don't you think?"

Eddie laughed. "Then the deal's off, sorry."

"What if we take turns?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Alright, I think I can live with that," he finally concluded, letting Steve pull him closer again to steal another kiss. And as long as he could taste Steve's lips, he couldn't care less about pancakes.

#look i know we all go crazy for the trope of steddie waking up and being surprised the other is still there #or one of them waking up to an empty bed only to find the other in the kitchen making breakfast #but have something a lil more painful instead i guess #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fruity ficlet

4K notes · View notes

nadvs · 1 month

Text

bittersweet (one-shot)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning alcohol use

summary rafe both loves and hates that you’re his sister’s best friend. he gets to see you all the time, but it’s a constant reminder of what he can’t have… until one night, when his jealousy takes over and he can’t keep himself from you any longer.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Rafe wonders if you know that he can hear you. It’s just false hope, but maybe you’re trying to make him jealous.

You’re in the bathroom getting ready for tonight’s party with Sarah, your pretty laugh reverberating through him as if he’s right next to you.

But he’s not. He’s never been as close to you as he would like to be.

His bedroom is right next door, where he’s sitting in bed, wasting time scrolling on his phone, eavesdropping.

“You’re lying,” Sarah says.

“I’m dead serious,” you reply. “I’ll read it to you.”

Rafe overhears you reading out a text you got from your ex last night… he loves you, he misses you, he shouldn’t have ever broken up with you.

He remembers seeing you in tears a few weeks ago when you visited his sister. Admittedly, he lingered by Sarah’s closed door, hearing you sniffle through your words about how he had dumped you out of no where.

It made his blood boil knowing someone did that to you. But like always, he pretended like you have no effect on him, later passing you by in the hallway without a single word exchanged.

“Do you think you’ll get back together with him?” Sarah asks after you finish reading the message.

“No way,” you reply. This makes Rafe’s heart feel a little lighter. Until he hears your next words. “I hope that guy I was talking to last weekend shows up tonight.”

Rafe fucking hates hearing you talking about guys you like. His crush on you is too big to not let it rattle him. And tonight, he might have to watch you flirt with someone that’s not him in his own fucking house?

He can’t take it anymore, rushing to the bathroom to see you standing by the mirror, your makeup halfway done.

“Do you have to be so loud?” Rafe snaps.

The only way he can talk to you without throwing any flags up is by being a dick. And admittedly, it kind of feels good getting his sexual frustration over you out like this, even though it’s severely misguided.

Sarah only rolls her eyes, having fully resorted to ignoring him at this point, but you smile at him in that way that makes his heart jump.

“Okay, grumpy,” you laugh. You’re in baggy sweats and big t-shirt and still manage to look fucking stunning. “You’re one to talk.”

Rafe knows you’re referring to the many fights of his that you’ve witnessed, both with his family and with people at parties.

He hates that your smile and your teasing make him want you even more.

He scowls at you but before he steps away, his eyes linger on you a little longer than you think they should. Wishful thinking, you tell yourself. You gave up on the fantasy that Rafe will look at you as anything more than his sister’s annoying best friend a long time ago.

“Sorry,” Sarah says, apologizing on behalf of her brother like always.

“Don’t worry about it,” he hears you respond. “I know what he’s like.”

Rafe shuts his door. What he’s like. You don’t fucking know what he’s like at all.

If you knew that you’re his first thought in the morning and his last thought at night, you’d realize he’s so fucking grumpy because he doesn’t get to talk to you how he wants to. Or touch you how he wants to.

He’ll have to avoid you at his party tonight. He’s not interested in seeing you flirt with some jackass.

That night, Rafe is halfway into a beer, zoning out of the conversation his friends are having around him.

You’re on the other side of the room, arm linked with Sarah’s. You’ve changed out of your comfortable clothes, wearing a dress that leaves little to the imagination. Man, what he’d do to you if he had the chance.

But he knows he doesn’t. You’ve seen him at his worst. Who in their right mind would want him?

As you chat with Sarah, your eyes drift to Rafe every so often. You can’t help it.

There’s something about his presence that’s so magnetic and dominant. And why is it when he’s wearing his hat backwards like that, your stomach does somersaults?

You need to get your mind off of him. It’s never gonna happen.

Then your eyes land on your ex-boyfriend, who just entered the room.

Rafe watches your face drop and your eyes lose their light. You turn to look at Sarah, whispering something to her, then disappear into the crowd. When he realizes your idiot of an ex just showed up, it takes everything in him not to crush the solo cup he’s holding.

He told himself he’d avoid you. He needs to keep his own promise.

Later in the night, you’re filling up your cup at the keg when you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“Don’t hog it,” he says, a joking tone to his voice. You turn to see your ex standing behind you. You only furrow your brows, in disbelief that he thinks he can speak to you so casually.

You don’t respond and he awkwardly shuffles in place.

“Did you get my text?” he asks.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you say. It’s been weeks, but being with him again brings it all back, the way he told you he doesn’t see a future with you anymore. Instead of sorrow, though, you just feel anger.

“Can you just… can you give me five minutes?” he asks.

“Leave me alone,” you tell him. Rafe appears behind your ex, his blue eyes fixed on you. He’s angry like he always is, his jaw clenched.

You figure he’s annoyed that you’re using the keg when he wants to top up his own drink.

“I don’t get why we can’t just-” he continues, but is interrupted.

“She said to leave her alone,” Rafe mutters. Your ex turns around to face him.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks.

“This is my house.” Rafe has to duck to talk to him. The image stirs something in you. “Either stop bothering her or get the fuck out.”

Your ex turns to look at you, shaking his head in confusion.

“This your new boyfriend?” he asks, voice thick with envy.

“What? No,” you reply. The way you look almost appalled by the prospect makes Rafe feel like his heart is being wrung out.

You almost laugh. As if Rafe would want you.

Your ex turns to face Rafe again. In the tension of the moment, you feel a lump form in your throat. Anger from what your ex did to you. Embarrassment that he won’t leave you alone. Excitement that Rafe is defending you, followed by a sharp sadness that he’ll never see you the way you see him.

Rafe is about to swing at him. But then he sees the look on your face and his anger dissolves.

“Fuck off,” Rafe says sternly.

Your ex looks at you incredulously. You’re sure he knows Rafe would take him down in a second.

When he walks away, leaving you and Rafe just a foot apart, you flatten your lips as you look up at him.

“Thanks,” you say quietly. You never thought you’d thank him for anything.

Rafe’s eyes soften when he realizes your eyes are wet with the threat of tears. You feel mortified to be crying in front of him, so you leave your drink on the table behind you and brush past him, stalking upstairs to the same bathroom you did your makeup in.

Your hands grip the counter as you look at your reflection. You managed to swallow down your tears, determined to have a good night.

Three knocks thud against the door.

“Someone’s in here!” you say, weak voice echoing through the small room.

“It’s Rafe,” you hear.

Your heart leaps. What the hell could he have to say to you?

You swing open the door to meet his gaze. He’s wearing an expression you haven’t seen before.

Rafe can’t fucking take it anymore. He steps inside, shutting the door behind him, boxing you in between his body and the wall. His arms are crossed to keep himself from touching you.

“Why were you with him?” he demands.

“What?” you ask. He’s mad. Of course he’s mad. This is Rafe. Mad is his default setting.

“He’s obviously a fucking idiot,” he snaps. “And an asshole.” You’re not sure if this is some cruel display of annoyance, but you don’t have the patience for it.

Still, a part of you is buzzing to be alone with him.

“Why are you giving me shit right now?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. He brings his hand up to yours, pushing it away from your face.

It’s the first time his skin has ever touched yours.

“Why were you with him?” Rafe repeats. He’s so close to you that you can smell him. His aroma is earthy, like a comforting campfire. But nothing about him is warm. Never has been.

“How do you even know…” you mumble in confusion. You realize you have no clue how he knows that the guy he almost fought downstairs was your ex. “You don’t know anything about the situation.”

“I heard you,” he says. “I heard you crying over him. Why were you with someone who said that shit to you?”

Rafe recalls the way you told his sister that your ex called you names during your last fight. It made him sick.

You freeze for a moment. He heard you? Why the hell would he care to listen?

“Well, sorry I was being loud,” you say, still a little bitter about how he talked to you earlier tonight even though you had laughed it off in front of him. “Can you just… give me a break? It’s been a shitty night. I don’t need you judging me on top of it.”

“God, that’s…” Rafe steps back, taking off his hat just to smooth his hair back and put it back on again. “I’m not judging you.”

“Then what are you doing?”

A few heavy, tense seconds pass between you. Rafe is looking down at you, at how pretty you are, at how badly you need to be appreciated.

Then he leans down to press his lips against yours.

You were wrong. Rafe does have warmth to him. He’s nothing but warmth right now. The way his hot mouth captures yours and the way his hands cradle your cheeks fill you with need and happiness and a whirling sensation of unsteadiness.

Is this actually happening?

Rafe’s whole body buzzes when you kiss him back, your hands hooking up around his arms, palms on his shoulder blades. He’s pressed up against you, deepening the kiss, his tongue running over yours.

He wasn’t annoyed. He was jealous. You feel dizzy from the revelation.

Your back is flush against the wall, Rafe’s body curved against yours. He bites on your bottom lip for a second, sending an arousing pinch of pain through you, as if he’s punishing you for making him yearn for you.

The contradiction between your mind and your body is jarring - you thought he was annoyed by you, but he’s kissing you like he was annoyed at the fact that he couldn’t kiss you before.

Tasting and touching you like this makes Rafe harden, and he perches his hips back, unsure if this is too much for you. When your hands slide down to roughly pull his hips back towards you, he doesn’t need any more signals. You want him just as bad and it makes every inch of his skin burn.

Rafe shifts back, forehead pressed against yours, unable to open his eyes for a second.

“I need…” His voice is hoarse. He can’t do it like this. Not with you against a wall in the bathroom. “Let’s go to my room.”

You nod and follow him, letting him lead you onto his bed.

Your eyelashes overlap as Rafe hovers over you in his dark room, kissing you again. Tucked away from the crowds and music downstairs, all you can hear is the sounds of your lips smacking together and his fast breaths.

You spread your knees apart so he can settle between your legs. Desire consumes you as he grinds his cock against you. The sensation awakens the need you’ve had for him for so long but always told yourself you’re not allowed to feel.

You can’t help but feel a gnawing fear that this is just a meaningless encounter to him. You’re not equipped to deal with being just a piece of ass to Rafe. Sex with him will change everything. It needs to be worth it.

You gently push against his chest and worry floods through Rafe that he did something to make you uncomfortable.

He’s looking down at you in the shadows of his bedroom, his breaths shallow and fast.

“We shouldn’t…” you begin, and he nods quickly, arms straightening to sit up. Shit. He fucked up by kissing you. He’s not worth the risk to you.

But again, you pull him back in, this time with your hands cupped on his shoulders.

“Rafe, wait,” you breathe. “I’m saying… we shouldn’t if you don’t…” You take a beat to gain some courage. “I like you. For real. I’m not doing this if I’m just a hook-up to you.”

Rafe didn’t realize how heavy his heart sat in his chest until he hears you say that. He looks at you with wonder.

“You’re not just a hook-up,” he says, as if it’s obvious to you. “I like you so fucking much. I have for so long.”

“You mean it?” you ask. You realize this man has the power to break your heart.

He kisses you like you’re so damn delicate, like you could break in a second. The way you just said that, the edge and fragility of your voice, makes him feel like the luckiest man alive. You feel it, too. It’s not just him.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I mean it.”

Your lips meet again with even more heat this time. He grinds against you with more pressure than before, his erection hard and big.

The fact that you’re the reason he’s so turned on is unreal.

Rafe’s hands dip under the hemline of your dress, fingers ghosting over your thighs. You tilt your hips up off the bed to offer him the space to pull your dress up. He immediately takes the invitation, watching you in awe as the fabric slides over your chest, your shoulders, finally off your body.

His open mouth attaches to the flesh of your breast, kissing and sucking. He pulls the cup of your bra down to close his lips over your nipple. The sensation makes you tremble and moan.

Your pretty sounds are better than anything he has ever heard.

His tongue flicks and wriggles over your nipple, then he moves to your other breast, eager to give all of you the attention you deserve.

“Let me eat you out,” he stammers. “Please.”

“Yes,” you whisper.

For so long. He said that he’s liked you for so long. Your mind is rustling with excitement and disbelief, your thoughts tangling together as you think back to every time he looked at you. Every time he spoke to you.

It’s crazy to think you can now reframe all those memories, knowing what you know now.

Rafe pulls your panties down and wishes his lights weren’t off so he could see you better. But what he does see in the dimness confirms what he always knew - that every part of you is beautiful.

You feel his fingers spread you apart, the cool air pressing against your core. The image makes his stomach numb with infatuation.

“Fuck,” he says, nearly whining. “Fuck… I can’t tell you how many times I wished I could do this.”

“Me, too,” you admit breathlessly. “I never thought you… wanted me.”

“Of course I do,” he half-chuckles. He regrets ever making you feel like you’re not desirable. You’re perfect.

Rafe dips his head. You’re like sugar on his tongue. You gasp when he presses his mouth against your clit. He can’t believe how much arousal is pooling between your legs as he starts to lap at you.

“You’re so wet for me,” he praises, planting a kiss on your cunt. His tongue twists and curls and when it dips inside of you, you feel like you’re on another planet.

He readjusts his hands to spread you even wider, wanting to pamper every fucking inch of you.

You bunch his hat between your fingers and throw it off of him to feel his hair. You dreamed of touching his hair for so damn long. You can’t help but tug at his roots as he gifts you with the best feeling you’ve ever had.

The thick, wet sounds of him slurping fill you with bliss. His mouth is giving you so much damn pleasure, the same mouth that would snap at you and frown at you and make you wonder why he disliked you so much.

It was all an act. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

You felt how big he is when he was grinding against you. You need him to fuck you. Now.

“Rafe,” you moan.

“Hmm?” he says, mouth still closed around your clit, sending a vibration through you.

“Get inside me,” you whisper. “I can’t wait anymore.”

His heart is thrumming with exhilaration. He still can’t believe that you want him.

He pulls off his t-shirt and unbuttons his jeans with such fever that you smile in endearment. He’s moving like you’ll change your mind or come to your senses or something.

He sits over you on his knees, holding his cock at the base. It’s big and curved so fucking perfectly that you start to ache for him even more.

This will change everything and you’re so glad it will.

Rafe slowly drops to rest on his elbow on top of you, his other hand guiding him into your soaked entrance. You shudder in near unison as he pushes into you slowly, every inch feeling better than the last.

“Damn,” he groans, unrestrained. “You feel so fucking good.”

“What you expected?” you ask, a small hint of insecurity in your tone.

“Baby,” he laughs. The nickname makes your body tingle. “Even better.”

He pulls back slowly, then buries into you again, a deep, languid exhale leaving his lips. He ducks to kiss you as he fucks you slowly and lovingly, stretching you out, your chests pressed together.

His pace begins to quicken, the curve of his cock hitting deep inside you so perfectly.

“Can I go harder?” he asks against your mouth.

“As hard as you can,” you request. He shudders as he pulls back and slams into you with all his force. Your body jolts, his bed squeaking.

“Be mine,” he says between thrusts. “I need you to be mine.”

“I am,” you say. “I always was.”

This sends him over the edge. He’s about to cum, but he needs to get you there first.

To your disappointment, he pulls out, but when his mouth is back on you and his fingers are scissoring into you, you lift your feet off the bed and throw your head back.

Your walls start to flutter around him as you cum and he quickly shifts to stuff his cock back into you so you’ll finish around him. He feels his gut tighten and he explodes into you with a string of oh, fuck’s, your pussy squeezing around him in pulses as he spasms through his orgasm.

Rafe loves the way your arms and legs are wrapped around him. He feels so needed by you. It’s like a drug.

He collapses on top of you, holding himself up the best he can so not to crush you.

You’re both sweaty and breathless and smiling. He dips his head to press his warm cheek against yours as you remain wrapped up in each other.

“So was I,” he mutters against your ear.

“What?” you breathe, your legs numb from pleasure.

“I was always yours, too,” he says. He kisses the side of your neck, wishing he could never leave this moment. You let out a sweet laugh, squeezing his big, hard body tighter.

He’s never going to make you doubt if he really likes you ever again. He’s sure of it. He silently vows it as he kisses your neck countless more times.

inspired by this anon! if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

1K notes · View notes