#just came back from slipping my way back home and it’s always nice to walk along some person who actually has weather appropriate shoes and
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If It All Fell (7)
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst, PINING, Azriel's POV and he is incredibly sad
a/n: Yay here's more <3 I promise it gets happy and there's a little teaser of what that'll look like in this part. Let me know what you think pleaseee :)
Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)
~~
Azriel
Azriel’s heart came to a thudding halt.
“What was that?” he asked softly, trying to play it off. Trying to pretend as if you hadn’t just asked him the one question he had hoped would never come. Because you were supposed to get better before it came to this.
He had begged the Mother for any kind of reprieve.
She hadn’t listened, as Azriel had expected.
“Mates,” you slurred, your head bobbing on his shoulder. The High Lords had exhausted you. “Helion said you… he said something about a mate. I can’t remember exactly… but no one’s told me what that is.”
Pure adoration tore at Azriel’s chest. Your words blurred together as you sunk deeper into his arms, and Gods, did he love you. He let himself imagine that you were drunk—just for a moment. You were drunk and still his and he was carrying you home after a night at Rita’s.
“Azriel?”
The moment ended and panic replaced the temporary comfort that had consumed him.
“Yes, my love?” It had slipped, a mistake fueled by his clouded mind. Azriel counted his footsteps and held his breath, but you only hummed in response, too drained to notice the endearment that had fallen with such desperation from his lips.
“You were telling m’about mates,” you reminded him. Your arm slipped from his neck and landed in your lap. Azriel held you closer, feeling your body begin to lose its grip.
“Of course,” he dutifully replied. “A mate is… it is a gift from the cauldron. An equal to share a bond with.”
“Like a lover?”
Azriel could hardly piece your words together with the way they tumbled out.
That, and his stomach was twisting, reminding him of the very bond that was crying out within him. This was wrong. It was all so terribly wrong. He didn’t have to have this conversation with you last time; it had hurt you too much to even hint at the topic.
Back then, Azriel had been so deep in anguish he couldn't keep food down, so desperate to just speak to you that his body rejected all else.
This was somehow worse.
“Much stronger,” he whispered, pressing his nose to your temple in an act of weakness. You didn’t notice. “Our souls are linked—mates I mean. A mating bond doesn’t always lead to the pair being lovers, but if they choose to do so, it’s enhanced. It’s unexplainable, truly, having someone connected to you that you love so deeply.”
“That sounds nice,” you mused, a melodic flow of syllables starkly contrasting the effort with which Azriel was trying to string his sentences together.
“It is.” He gave in to his urges and looked down at you in his arms, your hair flushed against his leathers, your face soft and drowsy. “It is wonderful.”
You cracked an eye open. Azriel had stopped walking. “Do you have one?”
“What?” he choked out.
“You speak as if you know the feeling well. Do you have a mate, Azriel?”
“I—” There were no thoughts in his head, nothing but the sound of your voice and your question repeating itself like a bell tolling in a vicious pattern. “Yes,” he sputtered out. “I do, yes.”
You smiled softly, but it was paired with a furrowed brow and a light sigh. “Good,” you nodded to yourself. “You deserve a mate.”
Too much talking, too much thinking; your head lulled into his arm, face against his chest, and you were asleep.
Yes, this was much worse than the last time.
Azriel adjusted his grip and carried you back to the room you didn’t know belonged to the both of you.
~~
The pounding in your head was your first indication that you were awake. You moved your hand to your hairline before opening your eyes, applying pressure in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure there.
Useless.
A small groan made its way up your throat. The night before, or whenever it was—you had no idea how long you’d been sleeping—was a jumbled mess in your mind. You remembered meeting Helion, being told you were in love with him, being told that you actually weren’t in love with him, and then he and Rhysand had entered your mind and left you as nothing more than a vegetable.
There were other pieces too, like Azriel carrying you back to your room and talking about… mates? Yes, that sounded right—the larger-than-life, effervescent partners bestowed upon fae by the cauldron.
And he had told you that he had one.
That was good. Great, even. Something stirred within you, an uncomfortable feeling, but you ignored it in favor of the pain radiating across your head. Gods, why did it hurt so much?
Helion and Rhysand had been in your mind. They were going to discuss things with you.
You shot up far too quickly, the motion sending shooting pains up your neck.
“What?” you heard a voice panic. “What is it? Are you hurt?”
Another jarring look to the side and you just about passed out from the pain. You caught a glimpse of Azriel before you squeezed your eyes shut to try and manage it, his large form folded into a chair by the door that was certainly not made to accommodate wings. You lowered your head into your hands and heard the chair screech against the floor.
“What is it, y/n?” Azriel asked, voice closer now.
You let out a shaky sigh. “Sorry, just—it’s my head, give me a moment.”
He didn’t speak, but the room became dark. That seemed like an impossible feat, with the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the walls and letting in the rays of the day court sun. But the pounding in your head receded a fraction, and you could tell it was dimmer even from behind your eyelids.
“Does that help?” he asked, so low you could barely hear him.
You felt his breath at your arm.
“Yes,” you whispered back, and when you opened your eyes, Azriel was there. His wings had circled you, encasing you in a darkness that blocked out the world, his knees at the side of your bed.
“You got up too quickly,” Azriel offered.
“I know, but I wanted to hear what the High Lords had to say about the witch and my memories and what I need to do to fix everything. Have you heard anything?”
“Very little. I’ve been here.”
“For how long?”
“You slept for a day and a half.”
“And you stayed the entire time?”
“You requested I stay by your side. You’ve been here.”
You bit into your lip, the heavy weight of guilt loading onto your chest. Azriel flinched as if he felt it himself. “I wanted to stay,” he comforted. “It puts me at ease to… see you while we’re in this court. To know exactly where you are and who’s around you.”
“Because of last time,” you stated, but it was a question that hung in the air.
Azriel’s eyes tracked along the planes of your face. His hand twitched. “Yes, because of last time.”
He looked so serious, bordering on forlorn. Despite the pain in your head and the conflicting emotions rising within you, you attempted to lessen some of the load that seemed to bogg the shadowsinger down.
“You could have taken shifts with Cassian, you know. Or even, I don’t know, laid on the bed that’s the size of a small apartment. I was out cold the entire time—didn’t wake up once. I wouldn’t have noticed if you did,” you offered with a hint of a smirk playing at your lips.
Azriel’s gaze dropped to your mouth, his own expression lightening. “Cassian would fall asleep immediately. And, just to let you know, you did wake up. Several times.”
You gave him a doubtful look. “I think I would remember that.”
The shadowsinger bit back a smile and something within you shone at the playful look in his eye. “Right, so you don’t remember waking up and practically ripping that from my body?”
His eyes shot down to your chest, an action which you followed to find a large, unfamiliar sweater swathing your body in warmth. You looked further down at your hands, only to find the sleeves of the garment covering your palms and fingers as well.
An incredulous laugh bubbled in your chest. “I wouldn’t—I didn’t actually rip this off of you, did I?”
Azriel shifted his knees into a kneeling position beside you, his wings shuffling and creating a sound you had begun to find comfort in. “Well, you didn’t exactly ask politely.”
You groaned and shoved your face back into your hands. “Gods, that’s embarrassing. It’s because I was delirious, I swear. Those damn High Lords scrambled my brain.”
“Y/n, you have a penchant for demanding things in your sleep. Food, water, clothing, more blankets. Once you woke up to ask me for an entire roast duck and in the morning you had no recollection. You were quite aggravated that night.”
“No, stop, I can’t take this. I am melting into a puddle of mortification and you are making it worse.”
Azriel chuckled. “It’s alright. I’ve grown used to it over the years. It’s almost charming, really.”
You peeked through your sweater-clad fingers. “You can’t mean that.”
“I mean it very sincerely. When you are sick or unwell, you sleep through the entire night. When you wake up and grab the neck of my sweater like you’re robbing me, I know things are okay.”
You groaned again, this time tilting your head back and immediately regretting the action when a pulse of pain permeated along your temples. But it wasn’t so bad anymore; Azriel and his wings made it better.
You took a moment to gaze upon his face in the proximity. He was smiling slightly, some humor still shining in his hazel eyes. The occasional shadow made a pass along his cheeks and by his ear, whispering secrets you weren’t privy to and then coming to wind around your body as well. His hair was mused and untamed, landing in soft patterns across his forehead.
Azriel was so beautiful it hurt.
“Does your mate ever get upset that we are so close?” you asked, the question not even fully formed in your head before it entered the space.
The smile slipped from Azriel’s lips and you regretted your impulsivity almost instantly.
“No,” he answered, a slight shake of his head. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”
“Has something happened? Between the two of you?”
“Y/n, please don’t worry yourself over—”
“It’s just—Azriel, I know how hard all of this has been on you. When you spoke of your mate it was the first time I saw you look at peace. That’s why I’m asking.”
“You remember what I said?”
“All of it,” you smiled, but Azriel only looked grave. “Az—"
The shadowsinger jutted back as the familiarity left your lips. He sent his shadows out, their configuring forms covering the windows and the cracks in the doors until it was dark enough for him to remove his wings from around you. With him went the comfort of night-kissed air and warmth and all of the things that made sense in this life you had been dropped into.
“Rhys has requested that we meet in the study to discuss findings,” Azriel relayed, clearing his throat and standing from his place on the bed. “I laid out some of your things and a servant ran a bath when you started to stir. Do you need help—”
“I’ve got it,” you interrupted, eyes downcast, feeling as though you’d ruined something that was already painfully delicate.
“I’ll be here if you need me. Just outside the door.”
You believed him—you did—but something was missing. Something you couldn’t keep up with. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he was in love with someone. Mor, maybe? Or one of the sisters Cassian talked about on occasion?
The thought of him with his mate made you nauseous.
You shouldn’t have asked.
~~
“A replication?” you asked, running a hand along the side of your head in an attempt to look casual about the throbbing taking place there. “So… it is like last time?”
“Partially, but because the witch’s powers aren’t pure, she was unable to mimic what a full daemati can do. So, same outcome, fewer side effects,” Rhys offered, a calming presence across the table. “Witches often find sources to draw from because they don’t have access to their natural abilities any longer. Your source was—”
“An opening in her mind,” Azriel concluded, expression guarded as he sat stiffly beside you. “There were remaining injuries in her mind. The witch found her weak points and used them against her.”
Helion nodded, rounding one of the more ornate chairs and basking in the light streaming through the window. “Very astute. We thought there were no remnants of—”
“Don’t say his name,” Azriel warned.
“—of the attack,” Helion quickly corrected, obviously not in the mind to start an argument with the keyed-up spymaster. “But they must have been miniscule. We think she must have been an old witch, very practiced.”
“So what do we do now?” Cassian gruffly asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the windowsill. You turned to look at him, but the sunlight casting his shadow sent your head ablaze. You quickly righted your gaze and squeezed your eyes shut to compensate.
You felt shadows stalk beneath your feet and across the floor until they consumed the light of the window. If anyone had any comments on the shadowsinger’s act, they didn’t voice them.
“Now,” Helion breathed out, dropping into a chair and interlacing his fingers atop the oak table. “We wait. Just like the last time, this kind of power is not something we can simply undo. We need a witch, and witches are incredibly elusive.”
Trepidation gripped your heart, sending your lungs into a fiery descent. You were just supposed to wait? Wait and hope that maybe, possibly, they would find a witch and fix this before your life moved on without you in it?
Your breath came out in quick, uneven puffs, exacerbating the ache in your head.
Azriel sat up in his seat, high alert and on the defensive.
But Rhysand was quicker than his spymaster’s anger. “There is the possibility that this wears off on its own.”
Your eyes snapped up. “Was that a possibility last time?”
“No,” Cassian remarked, brows shot up to his hairline. “That’s why you were missing for so long and in so much pain after. You both made it clear that there was no moving whatever the daemati put in her head.”
Helion and Rhysand shared a look, but your High Lord was the one to speak. “It was weaker this time, more permeable. We think, with time, the wall the witch attempted to replicate will break down and you’ll have everything back. She did only do this to you to flee from attack. It wasn't personal.”
“How much time?” Azriel strained.
Helion replied this time. “There is no way to know, shadowsinger.”
“What about the pain? You said fewer side effects but I couldn’t even have light in my room this morning.”
Rhysand looked sheepish, eyes darting over to the window still opaque with shadows. “Yes, well—we may have pushed you a bit too far during our assessment.”
Cassian let out a disbelieving huff from the corner of the room. Azriel gripped the arms of his chair until they groaned.
“So it’ll go away?” you asked, desperation trickling into your tone.
The wood beneath Azriel’s hands splintered.
“Yes, very soon. We can give you some tonics before you leave as well. They will help speed up the process,” Helion promised, eyeing his chair being slowly destroyed.
In a motion that felt almost second nature, you covered the spymaster’s hand with your own, shadows wrapping around the press of your skin. It was then that you noticed the ring. Silver and unassuming, it took up residence on the ring finger of his left hand and looked like it belonged no place else.
Our souls are linked, he had said, talking about his mate with such passion.
You removed your hand from his.
Azriel flexed his fingers upon your departure.
“We were thinking,” Rhysand began after a pregnant pause that seemed to blanket the room. “With your pain, we might want to stay a few more days. Winnowing can add extra pressure to the body and flying would—”
“No,” you were quick to dispute. “No, I want to go home. It’s lovely here, Helion, and I thank you for all you’ve done and are doing, but I want to go back to the Night Court. I want to try and live the life I’ve made for myself, even if I have no idea what I’m doing.” Another pause. “If that’s okay.”
“Of course that’s okay,” Azriel spoke from beside you. His words sounded dull, his fingers remaining outstretched on the chair.
“We will continue looking for the witch on our side,” Helion nodded, pushing out of his chair. He came before you then, meeting your gaze. “I cannot apologize enough for what your time in my court has cost you. I only hope that all will return to you. I have missed you, y/n.”
And then the High Lord of Day was gone, and you had no recollection as to why he would miss you in the first place. Everyone was saying they missed you, even as you stood before them unharmed and intact.
A harsh reality slammed into you with the departure of the High Lord.
If you didn’t get your memories back—if there were no witches or deteriorating walls in your mind—they would continue to miss you. You would forever be a husk of your former self, never understanding the full picture of who you were.
But that wasn’t okay with you—not at all.
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel x female!reader#azriel fanfic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel spymaster#acotar#acotar fanfiction#azriel angst
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Power II
Katie McCabe x Reader
Summary: You put Katie in her place
Katie was really toeing the line now.
A win against Chelsea under her belt and suddenly she was drunk off the feeling of victory.
That always made her act out a bit and you looked up at her from under your lashes as you sat in her cubby.
The whole locker room was celebrating.
Usually, you wouldn't venture in here but she had been insistent, dragging you inside in a way that really puffed her up to her friends.
You could forgive that though.
You always gave her a bit of leeway when she was celebrating. Not too much though and she was really getting closer to you snapping at her.
"Y/n!" Kyra crowed from across the room," My zipper's stuck!"
You sighed fondly at the girl, getting to your feet to fix her coat for her.
A half-eaten slice of pizza hung from her mouth as she struggled, trying to force her zipper down and you tutted.
"Give me a moment, Kyra," You told her," I don't know how you got it this stuck."
Kyra was sat in her cubby and you had to lean over to wrench the extra fabric out from her zipper.
You'd just got it free when you felt a slap to your ass.
You shrieked a little bit at the shock of it before whirling around.
Katie was grinning, looking back at her friends to check if they saw but her smile dimmed when she saw the pointed look you were giving her.
You stepped closer, enough for the team to not hear your words as you spoke them directly into her ear.
"That's strike one," You said," Keep pushing me and I will put you back in your place, Katie."
"Babe," She stuttered out," It was just a joke."
"And that's why it's only your first warning."
Strike two came when you were on the bus. Usually, you would drive yourself to Katie's games but she had insisted on having you on the team bus with her, sat in her lap.
She was still talking to Leah and Lessi and you knew the moment Leah mentioned partaking in certain celebrations when you got home that Katie would feel emboldened again.
Her hands roamed and you let them.
They were mostly under the table where the other girls couldn't see.
A squeeze of the thigh.
A teasing drag of her leg against yours.
Then her hands got higher and higher until she was squeezing one of your breasts in one hand.
Your shifted a little bit, tilting your head to once again speak into her ear.
"Second warning. One more Katie and I swear to god I will put you in your place in front of all of your little friends."
Katie's hand dropped.
There wasn't another incident until you all got back to London.
You were walking off the bus when Katie, having been teased somewhat by Leah, pulled you into a downright filthy kiss in public.
There was cheering behind her and you decided in that moment that Arsenal was just frat house masquerading as a football club.
You also decided that Katie had run out of warnings so, as she slipped her tongue into your mouth, your hand shot out to grab her neck.
She faltered.
"What?" You said," Is something wrong? You love when I squeeze your neck when we kiss."
"B-Babe," She said, chest heaving, torn halfway between being ridiculously turned on and embarrassed beyond belief.
"What? I thought you wanted to kiss me in front of all of your little friends."
"I'm sorry."
"Uh-huh. You will be." You pulled away but kept a tight grip on Katie's neck, raising your voice so everyone could hear. "Now, go and say goodbye to your friends. Nicely, Katie, and then we'll go home."
"Er...yes..."
You released her and off she went to say goodbye, face burning red as everyone stared with open mouths at how obedient she had become.
You couldn't resist though.
"If you hurry up then I'll break out that big strap you like and we can work on you taking it all."
Her face burned brighter.
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Let me intorduce you to one of my absolute least favorite northern weathers: ”pääkallokeli” in finnish, aka ”skull weather” !! It’s when everything is icy and slippery, and comes from ppl falling & cracking their skulls :) And boi my trusty old doc martens I’ve used every day for 3 years straight and pure ice roads don’t go well together, I have no traction whastoever and am slipping big time!! Everytime I step a foot outside it’s a gamble
#but I’ve gotten good at the art of slipping but not falling#when u start to slip; gotta not panic and not try to stop moving bc then u will fall 100% bc physics#gotta lean into the fact that u’re now slipping and swing that other leg forward so u’ll just glide instead#it works most of the time so I’m not falling everytime I go outside; very rarely actually#last winter I did like twice (ofc always when there’s ppl around bc that’s how it works; u’ll never fall on ur ass if there’s no witnesses#but the moment there is? u’re done for)#just came back from slipping my way back home and it’s always nice to walk along some person who actually has weather appropriate shoes and#then there’s you who is emotionally attached to a pair of shoes and can’t imagine wearing any other ones#(should go get new soles installed for them before I die but that’s 100€)#november 2023#2023
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Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)
For The Weak And Weary
PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?
WORDCOUNT: 6.2k
WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.
A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.
And this was entirely new to you.
He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had.
But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you.
You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.
But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.
If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.
“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.”
It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered.
He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?
“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.”
Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse.
Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”
“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”
The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”
“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”
“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!”
A stiff silence falls.
“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.
“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.
You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains.
Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest.
You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away.
He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you.
When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive.
And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours.
So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second.
But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds.
Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood.
Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through.
In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did.
A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.
Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming.
How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?
Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips.
All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.
How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.
You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest.
If only Keegan could see you now.
Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.
Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them.
“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas.
You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar.
“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too.
Everything would be done if another city fell.
Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry.
Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down.
You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him.
Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another.
Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.
Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.
“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm.
Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.
Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...
When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike.
—
It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that.
On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.
Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do.
Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness.
“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up.
The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did.
Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.
“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”
The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears.
“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!”
On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock.
Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.
And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious.
With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream.
You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static.
I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead.
While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out.
It rang a devastating bell.
Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t.
Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.
The only love of your life.
“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.”
Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.
The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…
Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile?
Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky.
“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him.
He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression.
“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.”
“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine.
You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.
It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.
“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact.
Your face gains heat.
“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment.
“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”
“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.
He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow.
“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?”
Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began.
Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died.
At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.
So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar.
“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found.
“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.”
The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk.
“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls.
You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.”
Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.
“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around.
Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more.
You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.
Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water.
More than one-thousand miles.
But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering.
Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet.
Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important.
Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.
—
The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything.
Until you said you were from Dallas, of course.
But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious.
But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.
You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years.
In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place.
Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet.
The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds.
“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?”
You weren’t going to stop until you found it.
Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet.
“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him.
Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.
“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you.
“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.”
You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you.
“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”
“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard.
Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?”
“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it.
“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”
“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.”
“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.”
Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after.
“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question.
“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile.
“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building.
Yelling is on the other side.
“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told.
“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.
…Keegan?
“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.
“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”
“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood.
Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch.
Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago.
Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.
Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system.
The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real.
Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three.
“...Sweetheart?”
His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.
You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.
The door shuts, but neither of you notices.
“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.”
He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible.
“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.
Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet.
“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”
“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?”
His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years.
“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?”
Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh.
The man forces a weak huff.
“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you.
You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.
Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same.
Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you.
He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck.
“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?”
You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.
“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.”
You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you.
The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.
“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”
“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”
You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.
Not to leave again anytime soon.
TAGS:
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#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#call of duty#x female reader#call of duty keegan#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#cod keegan#keegan p russ#keegan x reader#keegan russ#keegan x you#keegan russ x reader#keegan p russ x reader#call of duty ghosts#cod ghosts x reader#cod ghosts#cod keegan russ#cod fic#cod fanfic#cod x female reader#x fem!reader
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A Christmas Fix — 01 (m) | kth
⟶ Summary | One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.
With special collab prompt: "the holidays aren't so bad with you around."
⟶ Title | A Christmas Fix
⟶ Pairings | Taehyung x female reader
⟶ Genre | Secret Baby!au, Second Chance!au, Strangers to Lovers!au
⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; including: alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting/morning sickness, surprise babies, miscommunication, profanities/swearing, minor body insecurities (implied), some family drama; involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, one night stand, drunk sex (with clear consent), minor dom/sub dynamic, brat!reader, size kink, rough sex, light choking, restraint, hair pulling (M, F), protected & unprotected sex, fingering (F), oral sex (F), clit play, breast play, stripping, biting, minor hand job/groping, grinding, masturbation (M, F), dirty talk, implied pain kink, praise kink, body worship, marking, multiple orgasms (M, F), overstimulation.
⟶ Word count | 25,363 words (of 54,773 words)
⟶ Story Notes | Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration with @leahsfavefics, @kithtaehyung, @kpopfanfictrash, @cybrsan, and @sugaurora | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs) | Moodboard was done by me | Posted in: January 31st, 2024 by @yoonia
⟶ Author Notes | I know that this is so late, but December has always been a rough month for me and this time it continued until January. I hope you can still enjoy this story regardless. Happy belated holidays and happy new year, my loves!
⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: next chapter ⇢
⟶ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi
⟶ Read on AO3
One month ago…
You already had everything perfectly planned out when you first thought of this trip some long months ago.
Everything.
From your personal bucket list full of wonderful things that you wanted to experience during your time away and the places that you wanted to see, down to the smallest details that you could possibly think of to be able to enjoy every single moment of your secret getaway.
Just like the red dress that you had chosen to wear tonight. The dress you had meticulously picked and bought to wear on the trip as you went to celebrate your newfound freedom.
In your well-thought-out plan, you were supposed to have landed on the tropical island you were headed to by sundown. The warm tropical breeze should have been embracing you at the start of your trip instead of the cold, chilly wind flowing right outside these walls.
By this evening, you should have already settled in nicely in the comfort of your hotel room right by the beachside. The calming sound of the rushing waves outside your window was the sound that you should have been listening to while resting from your long flight.
You had pictured yourself embracing your freedom in a foreign land. To feel the soft sand slipping between your toes as you were playing chase with the rushing waves, and to find calmness that you could only get far away from the treacherous city where you came from.
The trip was meant to help you mend your soul. Perfectly planned out as an escape from reality and leave all of your past hurt behind before starting a new chapter of your life.
And yet, no matter how thoroughly you had it all planned out, somehow life simply found a way to mess it all up. Just like how it had always been. So perhaps you shouldn’t have been so surprised when it happened to you again, just when you thought that you had everything under control.
You should have seen the signs long before everything started crumbling down.
The sky that kept growing darker ever since you left the city. The constant turbulences happening during your first flight that made the trip feel intense. The unsettling feeling you met the moment you landed in this place for your transit. The constant announcements echoing through the airport about flights that were getting delayed and cancelled while you were getting no news about your transit flight’s departure.
You should have been prepared to face reality, keeping in mind that life hadn’t been so nice to you lately to let you slip away that easily. Yet your stubbornness prevailed. And after your most recent predicament, you needed this trip to happen. You needed to be right.
After all, you have made it all the way here. It would have been impossible for you to return home, wouldn’t it?
So you remained in denial and were so stubbornly holding onto hope that you would soon be taken away from this place towards your dream destination. Even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart.
But after long hours of waiting, you were finally forced to accept your fate, letting go of any hope you had left to escape this place when they officially cancelled the rest of today’s flights due to unresolved weather issues. Including yours.
“I’m sorry, but we really can’t promise you anything at this moment. There will be no flights until the storm passes and our pilots are cleared to fly again. Until then, we have nothing to tell you.”
The staff’s swift response to your inquiries about getting on the first flight available to take you to your destination only left you with a dead end. Even flying back home was no longer an option, only because that would only mean that you were admitting defeat.
And that was how you ended up here tonight, stranded right between the daunting city that you called home and the paradise that you wished to be in until an unforeseeable future. Your dream of enjoying the night in the comfort of the beachside hotel room overlooking the wide, clear ocean, had been replaced with the reality where you had to spend overnight at the airport’s transit hotel that the airline staff helped book for you.
You released a sigh as you leaned back against the elevator wall. Recounting the events again only brought back all the terrible mood you were having. And it didn’t help that the last message that your roommate sent you only reminded you of your setback.
From Skye: Just checking on you on your secret getaway. I hope you’re having a blast right now. I wish you’d tell me where you’re heading so I can have a good reason to be jealous. Be safe!
Another sigh came from your lips as you wondered—
Now how am I supposed to answer her text?
Before you could find an answer, the elevator doors opened as it reached the lobby downstairs. You put away your phone as you stepped out, and immediately got lost in your thoughts. Your mind once again getting too loud as it keeps you company.
At first, you had no intention of hiding this trip from her. Yet all the circumstances leading to this weekend had made it hard for you to share anything to anyone.
You were planning to wait until you were finally there so you could surprise her with pictures from the beautiful beach or your comfortable hotel room. Showing her the pretty nighttime scene from the tropical island would have been a nice way to flaunt your secret getaway rather than boasting it when your fate had been filled with uncertainty.
But instead of having an evening walk down the beach, you were trudging across the lobby inside an airport hotel, accompanied by the sound of your heels clicking on the marble floors instead of having sand soiling your feet.
And the view outside the window that you got to see earlier had been nowhere close to the pretty beach with its white sand and rolling waves. Instead, you had a clear view of the dark night sky, painted with the raging storm and its blaring thunders so strong they almost caused the entire bedroom to shake. Neither showed any sign of calming down any time soon, leaving you with no other choice but to do what you could to enjoy your temporary stay.
And you were going to start doing so by having a quick drink to help you unwind for the night.
The red dress that you were wearing might seem a bit excessive for a nightcap, but for a short while, it helped you forget where you were. It felt almost as if you were walking in a dream as you strolled down the lower lobby in search of the hotel bar.
Entering the hotel bar, however, became another wake-up call.
The bar was quite large for a transit hotel, accommodating the patrons filling the place tonight. You had hoped that you could have a dance or two with a friendly stranger before retreating to your hotel room to rest, yet the closed-off lounge area had more space filled with box seats than the open dance floor. The seating area was the only place in the bar which was dimly lit, allowing the guests some privacy while they settled in with their drinks.
The small chandeliers glittering from the ceiling were far from the hanging lights that you pictured hanging in a beachside bar. Just like the one place you had seen pictures of while planning for your trip. The lights you were seeing here made the entire space beneath seem luxurious, spreading a soft golden glow over the wary faces trying to enjoy the night.
The pulsing bass that came out of the speakers was enough to drown the sound of the violent storm happening on the other side of these walls, further helping to create an illusion that you were in another place. That you were somewhere else instead of being stranded inside an airport hotel, together with all the strangers who seemed to be facing the same fate as you did.
You made your way towards the main bar, suddenly feeling hyperaware of your surroundings. Even without looking, you could feel people’s eyes following your movements. Yet you paid no heed to them. You were only here to quiet down the raging storm happening inside your head, after all.
A strong scent of old wood took over the bar area. Mixed in with the excessive scent of air fresheners and cleaners, it was enough to remind you that you were miles and miles away from the beautiful island where you had been so desperate to be.
Smoothing your palms down your red dress, you took one empty seat at the bar. You caught the bartender’s eyes as he walked past, and within moments, a glass of strawberry daiquiri ended up in your hand.
This feels nice, you wondered to yourself as you sat back and tried to relax.
One sip of the sweet alcoholic drink was all that it took to refresh your mind. As the warmth from your drink ran smoothly through your body, any doubt and wariness you felt began to fade.
The next sip of the drink managed to ease your thoughts down a bit more. It helped push away the reminders of your troubles to the back of your mind. Finding calmness, you took another quick look at your surroundings.
The seating lounge seemed to be filled with guests more than the main bar was. Stranded travellers like yourself. At first glance, the nicely dressed men in suits made it seem like you were in a bar downtown. As if they were nothing more than a group of businessmen seeking leisure on a Friday night with drinks.
It only took you looking a few seats away from them for the illusion to shatter. Your eyes fell on a group of men and women wearing their summer clothing who were making a toast, acting as if they were at the peak of their vacation.
Looking at the scene made you realise that you weren’t the only one feeling miserable tonight. You wondered just how badly these people here needed to forget. How many of them here might be similar to you, stranded in an unexpected situation while trying to escape reality?
You raised your glass to hide your bitter smile. The smooth liquid continued to flow through your body and you slowly began to find some peace of mind. Before you knew it, you had finished your drink, though you weren’t exactly ready to return to your cold bedroom.
“Can I order you another glass of drink?”
A deep voice invaded your senses after a long period of silence, and it was coming from your side. You had been far too deep in your reverie that you didn’t even realise that someone had taken the empty seat right beside you at the bar.
Curious to see this friendly stranger, you slowly turned around to look at him. And what you saw in him nearly took your breath away.
A tall, lean man was sitting there. His slick hair had a few curls at the end of each strands, and he had combed them back, leaving nothing more than a few stands framing his handsome face that looked almost as if it had been sculpted by the fine hands of masters in art. His sharp nose and jawline drew your attention, while his deep and soulful eyes that appeared like pools of rich mahogany drew you in, as if he was hiding a story behind his intense gaze. But it was his plump lips that formed into a smile which caught your eyes the most.
At your silence that stretched out while you were busy being captivated by him, he raised his eyebrows. It made you realise that he was waiting for your answer. An answer to a question that you had so obviously missed.
“I’m sorry?”
He tilted his chin to point at your now empty glass. “You look like you could use another glass, and I’d love to get one for you,” he said with an amused tone of voice.
Once again, his deep, velvety voice hit you deeply. It resonated through your body, and a shudder ran down your spine. You refused to believe that he was able to cause this effect on you solely through his voice or his pretty smile.
But how else would you explain the reaction that was drawn from your body?
I don’t think I’m that drunk already, you wondered.
It was probably the way he spoke to you which affected you so much. The way he was asking a question with pure confidence. As if he already knew your answer, and that it would be impossible for you to refuse his offer.
And he wasn’t completely wrong about it.
What remained from your sullen mood immediately shifted in his presence. And while you have no intention of turning him down, you decided that you were not going to make things easy for him.
“An interesting offer that seems like such a waste for me to refuse,” you sweetly said to him, smiling as your eyes fell on his empty hands. “But how would a woman feel at ease to accept such an offer from a man who isn’t even holding a glass in his hand?”
He squinted his eyes at you, which only made his gaze feel more intense. “Are you afraid that I might be planning to get you drunk?”
You softly laughed. “Not sure if I should be so worried about that. Getting drunk tonight has always been my initial plan all along,” you coyly said, hiding the fact that it was never your intention to get wild tonight. But his appearance intrigued you enough to change your mind about ending the night so soon.
The mysterious man remained oblivious to this as he laughed with you. His wide, almost boxy grin mesmerised you in an instant and you were once again left speechless.
He waved his hand to grab the bartender’s attention. It was nothing more but a simple gesture, yet you were somewhat drawn to it. To him.
While he greeted the bartender, you took the chance to have a better look at this man. You noticed that he was a bit different compared to the other men that you saw around you earlier.
Dressed in a black jacket over his plain white shirt, he didn’t seem as sophisticated as the stranded businessmen in their flashy suits sitting together at the bar’s lounge. Yet he had a different level of confidence which was enough to make your cheeks feel warm.
In your eyes, he was alluring, almost as intensely as the dark storm happening outside. And you couldn’t resist being pulled towards him.
“Another glass of the same drink for the lady and a glass of grasshopper for me,” he smoothly spoke as he ordered the drinks for you.
The bartender nodded and went to work, while you slid closer to him. His fresh-scented cologne immediately hit you, and your confidence nearly wavered that you almost slid back. But then he caught you with his gaze as he turned back to you, giving you the kind of attention which boosted every bit of ego you had.
“So you also prefer something light and sweet. How intriguing,” you teased him, bringing back his alluring grin.
“Why do you think I came here to join you? It was obviously for the fruity drinks and to have someone to drink it together with,” he joked.
You rolled your eyes at him and smiled. Before you got to say something in return, the bartender came back with his order. The man took a sip of his drink first before you took yours. Once again, the sweetness from your drink swirled through your body, chipping away at the tension that had been weighing you down ever since the day’s saga began.
“To be honest, I also thought that you were looking a bit rough.” His remark brought your attention back to him. The tease was gone from his voice. All that was left was a gentle concern that seemed genuine. “And you looked like you needed a friend. That’s why I invited myself to join you.”
It makes you feel uneasy to think that you were being so transparent. So much so that a complete stranger like himself was able to see right through you.
“You think so? Wait until you hear how rough I’m feeling inside as well,” you bitterly said to him, drawing a soft smile to his face.
“That makes the two of us then,” he said to you gently with his eyes on his glass of drink. There was a forlorn look in his eyes as he slowly twirled the glass, causing the liquid to swish around before he took another sip from it.
“Care to share?” you questioned him before you could stop yourself, only to pull yourself back. “Sorry, that sounds creepy. We just met and here I am, prying into someone else’s business,” you nervously laughed.
His gaze softened when he looked at you. Furthermore, he also seemed intrigued.
“No, not at all.” His voice was calm, and it somehow helped to calm your nerves. “I was just about to lend an ear in case you needed someone to vent to. I never expected that you would be a step ahead of me before I could make the offer.”
The comment he gave you made you feel warm inside.
“Mine’s a long story,” you bitterly said to him as you raised your glass, almost giving in to the urge to take a hefty drink and finish it off when everything started coming back to you again.
The reason behind this trip, why you were stranded here on your own, while being far, far away from home, and all the drama that had gotten in the way when you had been so desperate to get away from everything.
Unsurprisingly, the man merely shrugged. “I’ve got time to spare. My flight won’t leave until tomorrow. And that is if they’re allowed to fly out of here at all.”
You smiled at him. “Same here. I guess we’re both stranded here all night, huh?”
He leaned in just then, invading your personal space and filling it with his presence. And you didn’t even mind it as you leaned into him, meeting him halfway to welcome him into your little safety bubble.
“And I was worried that I might get stuck feeling lonely while being stranded in this place,” he gently murmured, drawing a smile to your face.
“I doubt that you would end up alone tonight,” you teased him, simply because there was no possible way that someone as attractive as he was would be returning to his hotel bedroom alone.
His smile grew, yet the deep, dark look in his eyes shifted into something else. Something naughty and sinful. It made you feel a new sensation brewing inside even without him ever having to touch you.
“Is that an invitation?” he asked with his deep voice that came grazing at your skin.
Normally, you wouldn’t know what to say in return. It had been so long since you played this kind of game with someone. With anyone. But his presence and his words were drawing something out of you. A part of you that you never thought existed. And you surprised yourself when you played along, taunting danger head-on as you challenged this handsome stranger before you—
“Would you like it to be?”
Something flashed in his eyes. It was dark and intense, and it was sucking you in. It brought a myriad of sensations that unexpectedly went straight down to your core.
In the deep silence that fell right after, the world around you faded. Even before you got to know his name, before you had the chance to share your story, you already knew the answer that he was about to give you as a response to your question.
And you also knew right then, that the sparks that came rising around you were something that you would never be able to easily forget, even if every bit of memory you had about him would fade over time.
Present…
Why do I keep thinking about that night all over again?
You can only wonder, as you keep being reminded of that eventful night.
Weeks, nearly a month have gone by ever since, yet the memories seem to have been engraved deeply in your thoughts. And today, even though you haven’t really been thinking about it since, you suddenly find yourself having no trouble recounting everything that happened then.
Well, almost everything.
Some parts may seem blurry now. All due to the passing of time and the fact that you were partly inebriated at the time. But you can still recall some parts of the night that had clearly left a strong impression on you—the first encounter and the conversation you shared before alcohol took over, the instant attraction that you felt, but most of all, his entire presence.
And they all have been coming into your thoughts while you are sitting here in the corner of your bathroom. Alone. With your arms wrapped around your folded knees and your eyes closed. As if you are waiting for a miracle to happen.
You scoff at the thought.
Right. Miracles.
Years have long passed since you stopped believing that miracles do exist. Life always has its way of blindsiding you with its twists and turns that miracles no longer seem to matter anymore.
Not for you, at least.
Your past experiences have only caused you to look at it with sceptical eyes, sometimes even with bitterness, knowing that life has never been on your side.
But here you are now, wishing, praying, holding onto hope that there would be a miracle to stop you from getting into a messy situation. One that you know you wouldn’t be able to handle on your own.
After all, the perfect season of miracles is right around the corner. So it wouldn’t be so wrong for you to have some faith in them again now, would it?
Your phone starts blaring with the sound of the alarm, snapping you out of it. Slowly, you rise on your wobbly feet. It feels as if your entire body has grown numb even before you get to face reality as it comes glaring back at you.
Clutching onto the edges of your bathroom counter, you try to hold yourself together, and immediately failing, as you look at the two thin white strips lying on the cold counter and feel your entire world tilting off of its axis.
All because of the two red lines that are clearly visible on each strip.
“Oh, fuck,” you softly groan. Deep down, you had already predicted this. Yet you kept denying it, hoping that you would be wrong.
“No, no, no—” you continue murmuring to yourself while wishing that you could somehow turn back time and change everything before things started going the wrong way.
Back to this morning, when your roommate caught you—once again—throwing up last night’s dinner before handing you the unopened pregnancy test packs that she has been keeping safe in her room with the premise, “Just in case.”
Or maybe you could return to last night when she pointed out your odd cravings—like dipping apples into peanut butter and eating leftover mac and cheese straight from the fridge without warming it in the microwave first—and joked about how you have been acting like a pregnant woman with your mood swings.
Better yet, you wish you could go back to that night, back to that many weeks ago, when you allowed yourself to fall for a stranger’s charm which led you to spend the night with him.
You close your eyes, once again murmuring to yourself, “This has got to be a dream.”
But the moment you open your eyes again, nothing has changed. You are still standing there with your hands holding tightly onto the edges of the bathroom counter. And the two pregnancy test kits that you used are still lying on top of the counter for your eyes to see.
A rapid sound of knocking on the bathroom door sends you jumping back.
“Hey, ______? Is everything okay?” you hear your roommate, Skye, calling out for you. Her voice seems calm, yet when you recall hearing the sound of her footsteps moving back and forth outside of the door while you were taking the test, you know that she has been waiting just as anxiously as you were. “So—? What does it say?”
Still in shock, and quite stuck in denial, you open your mouth only to have no words coming out of you. Your brain feels a bit hazy as you walk up to the door and open it for her.
Skye takes one look at your face and her gaze softens. “What did it—” She shakes her head. “Oh, never mind, I’m dying to know. Let me see it,” she says as she brushes past you before you can say anything.
Hoping that there is a chance that reality can change within the next few seconds, you refuse to turn around and once again close your eyes while she suddenly grows quiet.
Maybe you were just imagining things. Maybe you weren’t even looking at the test properly. Maybe—
“So, uhm—” you can hear Skye’s voice trembling a little as she hesitantly asks you, “Two lines mean it’s positive, is that right?”
And just like that, every bit of hope you have in you flies out the window. “I wish I could say that it’s the other way around,” you softly murmur, feeling defeated.
And the feeling grows stronger when you hear her cursing under her breath,
“Well, fuck.”
“What are you doing?” you ask Skye as you gingerly take a seat on the sofa.
Once you both stepped away from the bathroom, she guided you to the living room while she sauntered away to the kitchen without a word. You can hear the noises she makes as she is busy rummaging through the counters. Yet you are too far away to see what she is up to.
“Hang on a minute. Stay there,” she calls out without even looking.
“Okay.”
It’s not like you have any energy to go anywhere, after all. Your head is still spinning and you can barely feel your legs. It feels as if you are stuck in a bad dream and you just can’t get out of it.
It doesn’t take long before Skye returns to your side, carrying with her two clean tall glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. It was the same bottle that you opened when you celebrated your promotion a couple of weeks ago after coming back from the trip.
Holy shit, you inwardly cry out. Your heartbeat rises as your hands find their way to your stomach.
“Okay, let’s try to calm down,” Skye says to you as she places both glasses on the table before you, although it seems to you more as if she is talking to herself instead of reassuring you while you are panicking inside.
A couple of weeks ago? Wouldn’t I have been already pregnant then?
These thoughts keep running through your head as you watch your roommate pouring wine into both glasses, just like the night she did the same when you first opened that same bottle.
Dear God, how much did I drink that night? You ask yourself with a grimace as you try to remember.
Wait, no. I didn’t drink anything, you remind yourself. Relief washes over you look back at the celebration night where you barely took a sip before Skye took the glass away from your hands.
Because you were already feeling sick that day.
You had been feeling nauseous for days, throwing up once in a while and mostly on the days when you were lacking sleep because of the workload you had to handle for the upcoming promotion. All you ever did was wet your lips with the wine after the celebratory toast. That was the only contact you made with the drink before Skye replaced it with a tall glass of alcohol-free smoothie that she made especially for your ‘upset stomach’.
Of course, how did I not see the signs? You wonder again as you remember the sickly feeling you had after vomiting each morning and feeling powerless for the rest of the day. It even got so bad that you had to skip work for a couple of days at the beginning of your ‘sickness’.
If only you knew then.
Your eyes are still on the wine glasses as Skye places them side by side and puts away the bottle.
“Uh—I believe we both just saw the two lines appearing on the test packs.”
She lets out a light scoff and waves her hand at you. “They're both for me. I’m going to need them while I process this,” she says, shaking her head as she sits down to join you on the sofa. “You get to keep that smoothie.”
You follow her gaze and look down at the glass of smoothie that you left on the table during the whole fiasco with the pregnancy test. While you pick up your drink, Skye takes a hefty drink from one of the glasses of wine and sits back.
“So—you’re pregnant,” she murmurs to herself. Her gaze flickers to your face for a brief moment and nods to herself before taking another drink.
Why does it seem like she is the one panicking?
She releases a sigh. Neither of you says anything for a moment. But you can tell when she grows more anxious by the minute. You don’t understand why, until she carefully asks you, “Are you going to tell Han?”
Confused, you look at her with your brows furrowed and ask, “Why would I tell Han that I’m pregnant?”
Skye looks genuinely confused, almost as much as you are, and you only realise the reason why when she asks you, “Isn’t Hansol the father? You guys have been dating for a long time and I can’t remember ever seeing you with anyone else while you’re on a break.”
You wince, realising too late that you have yet to tell her the truth.
“Actually—we’re not on a break,” you slowly admit with a low voice. Months have gone by, and even though it no longer hurts whenever you start thinking about your failed relationship or to mention your ex’s name, you cannot help but still feel bitter about how it ended and you hate talking about it.
That is the reason why you haven’t said anything about it to anyone. Maybe you were just too embarrassed. After all, it isn’t so easy to admit that you may have been the reason why the four-year relationship fell into pieces.
“I lied,” you say with a burst of deep sigh, “It was over, done, finished—”
“So you already broke up?” she cuts you off with a calm voice.
You bite your bottom lip as you slowly nod your head. “Yeah,” you whisper, suddenly feeling like your throat is tightening up. Not because you feel the sudden urge to cry. But only because this is all becoming too much to take at once.
“And the baby?” she carefully asks you. “It wasn’t Han—”
“The baby isn’t his,” you quickly answer before she even gets to question about it.
It’s hard enough to hear his name being mentioned after a while. It feels harder to think that you might be carrying his baby.
But the moment those words come out of your lips, reality finally sinks in. Grabbing the glass of your drink, you take a hefty drink out of it. You wish there was some alcohol in this thing. Maybe it would have helped you think more clearly.
That’s right. It couldn’t have been his.
Sighing to yourself, you begin to do the math. “We’ve been broken up for months, so if the baby is his, I’m sure I would be showing already by this time around,” you say this while gently rubbing your palm over your stomach.
Now that your suspicions have been confirmed, the gesture feels almost natural to you that your hand simply moves before you realise it, though it helps confirm that nothing much has changed with your body.
It feels odd to think that there is a life existing inside you, yet you cannot really see it with just one look. This convinces you further that the baby couldn’t have been conceived while you were still dating your ex. Looking back to it now, once you remember when exactly the sickness and craving started, it would only make sense that the baby was conceived on that specific night.
“So—if Hansol isn’t the Dad, then who was it?”
Biting your lip, you turn to look at Skye. Of course, if there is anyone in this world that you can talk to about this, it would only be her. Just like how she would come to you first whenever she is in a bind, whether it’s about her relationships, about work, or even the smallest things like having a bad day where you end up sharing a tub of ice cream to feel better.
After all, she isn’t just a roommate, but also someone you have known the longest compared to the other friends you’ve made since moving into this city. You have known each other since college, since back in freshman year when both of you were nothing more but young kids from small towns being thrust into the big city.
Being put together in the same dorm room led you to become fast friends. After years of enduring the same hardship in college, the two of you remained so close that you even moved to this city together and continued to live in the same place to keep each other company.
You have gone through everything with her, and you have always been honest with each other. It should have been easy to tell her everything. If only you could find the right words to begin sharing your story.
“I have no idea where to start.”
“Well,” Skye patiently says while twirling the glass of wine she’s holding. You squint your eyes at her when you find it almost empty. So unfair. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”
“Right. From the beginning,” you say this with a nod. “Do you remember when I went away last month?”
She nods. “Your secret getaway. Still jealous of that, by the way.”
You give her a small smile. “Yeah, well—there’s a reason why I insisted on going alone on that trip. I actually planned it as a surprise vacation for me and Hansol. The original idea was for us to have a romantic getaway for our fourth anniversary.”
Skye raises her eyebrows. “Well, damn,” she mutters. “Let me guess. You broke up before it happened?”
You grimace as you recall what happened. “Close enough,” you answer with a bitter smile. “It was because of the trip that we got a huge fight in the first place.”
Skye tilts her head. “I’m not following.”
Sighing, you drink your smoothie to cool down and swallow the bitter feeling you are suddenly getting. Recounting the break-up isn’t so much fun to do. Not even after this long.
“I planned the entire thing on my own. Booked the flight and the hotel, and rearranged our schedules to fit each other so we could go on that exact date. But I never shared anything with him, except to confirm that it was a place that he also dreamt of going so we could both enjoy it together.” You let out a defeated sigh. “I wanted it to be a surprise. He used to love those in the past, so I figured it could be fun to celebrate our anniversary this way and get away from all the stress both of us had been getting.”
You stop talking for a moment to remember those days. Both you and Hansol had been so busy back then that you could barely spend time with each other.
It was the exact routine every day. Having long hours in the office and since you weren’t living together, you could only keep in contact with each other through texts and calls. By the time the two of you were able to see each other, all the stress had been piling up that you were almost always arguing and fighting instead of making up for all the time you missed while being apart.
“We were talking about moving in together but all of a sudden, we stopped discussing it and I could feel us growing further apart. I thought going away from all the stress for a while would help us get along and make up for all the fighting. Maybe we could have had a chance to talk things out and figure out what to fix.”
You stop with a soft sigh. “We were getting bored. With work, with life, and maybe we did get bored with each other but neither of us could open up about it, much less admit it. Not even to ourselves.”
Skye lets out a groan. “This is why I don’t do relationships,” she mutters before finishing her drink. The first glass. With the second one waiting on the table.
You give her a scoff, but smile at her comment before continuing, “He found out about the trip by chance. I was still logged in on his laptop after I borrowed it to check on my work email while I was staying over on the weekend. He accidentally opened the booking details when he was checking his email, thinking it was his account. He suspected me of planning to go with someone else, but even after I told him that the trip was for both of us, he wasn’t having it.”
Skye leans forward when she hears this. “Wait, he’s pissed about a secret vacation?” she asks, looking unhappy and confused at the same time. You can’t really blame her. Because that is exactly how you feel about your ex’s reaction. “Why would he be? If it had been me, I would’ve been ecstatic about going.”
“I wish I knew,” you groan, feeling just as frustrated as you had been then. “But he wasn’t just refusing to go. He started blaming me. Saying something about me holding him back or something. He said he had no time for a trip when he needed to be there and work for his promotion.”
Thinking back to that day, remembering about the fight and the things you said to each other, you are reminded of the moment the fight left your body. Because you knew then that there was nothing left to fight over.
“He never even brought up the fact that it was the date of our anniversary. I don’t think he even knew or remembered it,” you say with a bitter chuckle. “He broke it off, saying that he wanted to focus on his career and I would be keeping him behind. And I agreed because I knew that we’d wound up hurting each other if we’d stayed.”
“I can understand that,” Skye gently says. The two of you share a sad smile when your eyes meet. “And you still went on that trip,” she guesses, sounding proud. She lifts her glass to you and says, “Good girl.”
You merely shrug. “When I went to cancel the tickets for the trip, I thought it would be such a waste to throw everything away. So I decided that going solo would be a good idea and kept mine. Besides, I needed a moment to heal myself and get away from the city for a short while.”
She laughs, agreeing with you. Then, just as she is about to say something, she suddenly stops. A knowing look comes across her gaze and she slowly gasps. “Don’t tell me—” she says, “You met someone while you were there.”
You nod your head slowly and press your lips together. “Once again, you’re close. But that’s not exactly what happened.” Blowing out a deep breath, you slowly ask her, “Remember when I told you that I got held up for a day in transit?”
“Yeah, I was so jealous of you that I still remember everything you told me about that trip,” she lets out a dreamy sigh, then her gaze snaps back at you. “But, it seems to me that you haven’t told me everything about the trip.”
“No, I didn’t.” You grimace. “Anyway, that’s when I met him—”
The memories return to you again as you share with your roommate about your encounter with the beautiful stranger. You remember vividly the way he spoke, the deep and gentle voice that he spoke to you with, and his captivating smile that made you swoon. Everything about him that made it hard for you to leave and say goodbye to him.
You recount the way you enjoyed each other’s company that even after your terrible mood gradually became much better, and after you finished yet another drink, you simply couldn’t walk away and end the night with him so soon. You stayed longer, losing count of the time you spent with him and the drinks you had.
“And then, one thing led to another, it just happened.”
Skye’s eyes have grown so wide at this point, and her jaw has dropped in her surprise that she looks almost comical. “You hooked up with a stranger during your transit?” she asks you. The moment you nod your head, she switches her empty glass with the other. “I would drink to that.”
You laugh just as she takes a hefty drink as if celebrating on your behalf. “Why do you sound so proud of me?”
“Well,” she slowly starts, “We’ve known each other for so long. You have always been so put together, always followed the rules, and you are always so good at what you do. From school, to work, even the little things you have been doing on the side. But not when it comes to your sex life.”
You know that she is right about everything. But it doesn’t stop you from picking up a cushion and hitting her with it.
“Hey, you know I’m right,” she says while laughing and protecting the precious glass of wine. “Come on, you’ve never had any casual relationships or random hookups, and every chance I could have gotten to hook you up with my guy friends was gone when Hansol came into the picture.”
Pouting, you pull the cushion back and hold it tightly in your arms. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you admit with a sigh. “How do you get to know me so well?”
“That’s because I love you enough to pay attention,” she smugly says while waving her glass around, sloshing the wine everywhere. “Why do you think I’ve been so protective of you over the years?”
You roll your eyes and hit her with the cushion one last time, making her laugh, even though she is right. For as long as you have been friends with her, she has always been like an older sister to you. Not only for coming hard like a shield against the guys you ever introduced her to but also for the trivial things that not many people would pay much attention to.
Like reminding you to eat properly when you are stressed out or too busy with work and school.
You feel bad for relying on her so much over the years. But you also feel grateful about it. Just like how you’re feeling right now once you notice that you’re no longer feeling as stressed as you had earlier once you’re done dumping everything to her.
Skye’s eyes turn back to you, landing on your covered belly as she curiously asks, “Are you positively sure that Hansol wasn’t the father?”
You slowly nod your head. As much as you wish that you were wrong, you couldn’t have been mistaken about this.
“What are the odds that it was a false positive?” you suddenly question her, while she shrugs.
“It’s possible,” she says. “But we can get some more test kits and redo the test. Just in case. Or you could make an appointment with the doctor straight away to make sure.”
“Right, the doctor—” You let out a soft sigh and close your eyes briefly. It has been a while since you’ve seen your physician. The last time was before—
Oh, shit.
Your eyes snap open right then. How long ago has it been since you’ve gone to see your physician? The last time was when you went to your regular appointment for your birth control. But that felt so long ago.
Long before the trip.
After that appointment, and once the break-up happened, you simply threw yourself into work so much you completely forgot about everything else. And since you were newly single, getting your birth control was the last thing you had in mind at the time.
Fuck me, you inwardly groan without saying a thing to your roommate who is busy chattering about the doctor, making appointments, and offering to take you there herself. You know that she would lecture you about safe sex like a mother hen if you ever share this with her.
But wait…he wore a condom, right? Yes, you are quite sure he did. The details are blurry when you try to remember, but you do remember protection being involved.
Groaning to yourself, you fall back on the sofa. Your head starts spinning again when you start worrying about other things. Once you start thinking of a problem that you may have to face, another one comes to mind.
“What am I supposed to do with this baby?”
Skye once again raises her eyebrows at you. “I think the right question should be what do you want to do?” she asks, while you can only shake your head.
“I don’t know,” you answer with a small voice. The only thing you can think of right now is how you are going to get through this holiday while being pregnant. You are supposed to be home for Christmas in two weeks, and knowing just how crazy your family truly is, you cannot imagine how they would react if they found out you are with a child.
You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “And my family still have no idea that I broke up with Han.”
“For once, I’m not jealous of your life,” Skye says as she sips her wine. But she is ready for it when you fling the cushion back at her and avoid it without spilling her drink. “Don’t worry. I think they’ll catch on about your failed relationship as soon as you walk into your family home without that hunk by your side.”
Huffing, you hug the cushion in your arms and lean back. “I guess if they’re going to find out either way, I might as well just tell them the moment I got home.”
Besides, it might be even harder to hide the fact that you are pregnant. You might not be showing yet, but there is no possible way you could avoid the questions that may come if you are still feeling so sick right in front of your family, or if your cravings suddenly get out of hand.
Especially if Honey is there. Despite the early signs of dementia showing on her lately, your grandmother has always been so perceptive. And there is no telling what random things she may blurt out once she has some rum in her system.
With so many different things to think about, you almost forget one important matter that you should be thinking about when it comes to the baby. And just like always, Skye is there to remind you of it.
“Do you remember his name?”
You turn to Skye with wide eyes, suddenly panicking inside. You can tell that she can see it on your face and is now sharing the same feeling when she suddenly knocks back the rest of her wine and groans, “Fuck, I’m gonna need more.”
You watch her pour more wine into her glass, hastily drinking it right after, before turning to you again. “You didn’t get his name? At least tell me that you got his number before you went separate ways.”
You bite your lips. “It’s Tae.”
“Tae—what?”
You shake your head. “That’s it,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “That was the only name he ever gave me.”
“Seriously?”
Skye is freaking out, you can tell. But you close your eyes and rest your head back, shutting everything down as she starts ranting about how she was supposed to teach you better about hooking up with strangers and keeping yourself safe.
With her voice turning into white noise at the back of your mind, your memories return to you, taking you back to the eventful night.
You can almost feel yourself being back there again—back in the cold hotel bar with the scent of old wood and liquor lingering in the air; the murmuring sounds of people chatting and laughing, accompanied by the sound of glasses clinking together resonating through the space around you; back to his presence that felt so strong and intense you could barely feel anything else other than him as long as you had your attention fully on him.
“What’s your name?” You remember him asking you with his voice that grew more gentle and deeper the more he drank.
You leaned into him and giggled in response as if he just said something funny to you. “Does it really matter?”
His soft chuckle rumbled around you. The voice was so soft, yet you could hear it clearly because of how close you were leaning into him. “I’m sure I remember being taught not to talk to strangers.”
“Are you telling me that you’ve been a good boy for listening to what your Mom taught you?” you teased him. It was obvious how tipsy you were at this point, which may have been the reason why you were growing more confident.
“Oh, I’ve always been a good boy,” he answered you while looking amused. He went silent right after. His gaze seemed far away just for a fleeting moment before he finally said, “My name is Tae.”
“Tae? That’s it?” you asked, “Is that a codename or something?” You feigned a surprise gasp before you leaned into him further to whisper, “Are you secretly a spy?”
You felt his chest rumbling when he softly laughed. “Something like that, yeah,” he said, as he played along with your joke.
But the moment you leaned away from him, you were surprised when you got to see something in him that you couldn’t see before. His guard was down, allowing you to see the vulnerability that was buried deep under his suave and smooth talking.
For a brief moment, he looked broken. Just like you did.
And from the way he was hiding himself, not only under the short nickname but also from the way he was masking his emotions, you could tell that he was looking for an escape from reality. The same way you did that night.
So you simply smiled at him, choosing not to pry further to see beyond the mask and play along. Because at the same time, you wanted to hide your broken heart and become someone else to be able to forget everything. Just for one night.
“Then you can call me Red. It’s my special codename for tonight.”
His grin widened. You could almost see the relief washing over him through his warm gaze when he looked at you.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you tonight,” he said, still with his gentle voice that almost felt like sin licking on your skin when he called you, “Red.”
Two weeks later…
“Here you go,” your mother’s voice snaps you from whatever stupor you have been stuck in. When you open your eyes, a glass of ginger tea has manifested right before you.
“Drink this,” your Mom says as she points at the drink. “It should be good for your stomach.”
Your breath gets caught in your throat. Furrowing your brows, you keep your eyes on the drink instead of reaching for it. Thoughts of those past mornings when you and Skye spent searching through the internet to find a way to get rid of your morning sickness come through your mind.
Does she know? Did she figure it out already? Is it really that obvious?
You clench your hands and resist the urge to rub against your stomach. It has become a habit of yours to rub around your belly as if trying to feel the baby that is hiding inside whenever you feel agitated.
After getting the positive results through the home test kits, you had gone straight to the doctor only days before you left the city to have it checked, confirming that a baby is growing inside you. It still feels unbelievable to think about it, even after you saw it yourself with your own eyes.
“It’s still really early, and we might not be seeing much yet, but that’s your baby,” the doctor’s voice echoes through your mind as you tighten your clenched hands, thinking back to the day you went to have an ultrasound and saw for the first time the growing fetus that was said to be viable to grow fully as a baby.
Just like how the baby inside you has been nothing more than a blob of mass floating inside your stomach in your mind, your belly itself has yet to change shape. Even if your full awareness of the baby’s presence has only been causing you to find small changes in your body that nobody else might be able to see.
But Mom has been pregnant before, so wouldn’t she be able to see it? Will that be possible?
“Ginger tea is good for nausea and will give you some energy boost. Your grandma always made it for me whenever I had a stomach ache. I’m sure it’ll help get rid of your nausea and your upset stomach will turn better in no time.” Your Mom stops talking and sighs. “You should’ve told me that you were sick. I wouldn’t have let you drive all the way home if I had known.”
Ah.
You breathe a sigh of relief. You should be thankful that she believed you when you told her about having an upset stomach from the long drive home from the city. It was the only thing that you could think of as an excuse when your Mom wondered why you hadn’t been eating well since you got back home and why you were feeling sick.
It makes you wonder why you have been feeling unwell since you got home. Just when you had purposely waited until you were well enough and had stopped throwing up when you planned for the drive.
It’s almost as if the baby is deliberately making you sick to let everyone know about your secret.
“Thanks, Mom,” you say to your Mom as you reach for the tea, hiding your relieved sigh as you gingerly drink in small sips.
You have lost count of how many times Skye has made you this drink specifically to stop you from vomiting in the morning before going to work. It has been helping a lot to ease your ‘sickness’, and you are feeling it calming your stomach already as the drink warms your body.
You can feel your mother’s eyes on you, making you feel uneasy to be under her watchful gaze. “I think it might be better if you get some rest and take things easy. But are you sure you’re okay?” your Mom asks again, still worrying about you.
You continue drinking the ginger tea slowly while pressing down your guilt. You hate lying to your Mom the most, and now you are starting to regret driving home on your own. If the baby hadn’t been the one responsible for your current sickness, then perhaps driving the long distance has been the reason why your nausea is now coming back with a vengeance.
So much for trying to not draw any suspicions.
“I’m fine, Mom. Really,” you sigh as you place the glass down. “The tea is helping me already. I’ll feel better soon, I promise.”
Your Mom says nothing for a moment, but the crease you see forming on her forehead says differently. “I’m not just talking about you being sick. Maybe there’s another reason why you’re feeling faint?”
You look up at her just then. The moment you catch the pitiful look she is giving you, you finally understand what she is trying to say.
Just as Skye predicted, it didn’t take long for your family to take notice of your solo arrival. In the past, Hansol would have joined you to visit your family for a day or two during the holidays before he would return to his family on Christmas day. So his absence was quite obvious from the get-go.
And with the big lie that you have to hide from everyone at home, you had to at least give them one honest truth the moment they started asking.
“We ended things a few months ago,” you admitted to your family during the first dinner you had since you got home. By that time, you had already tried to avoid the questions for long enough. Nobody has brought up about it again since then.
Until now.
“If you’re talking about the breakup, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m okay, Mom. It’s been months since it happened. I’ve been trying to move one.”
In fact, you haven’t been thinking about your ex at all for a long time. Not until you brought it up to Skye and then again when your family started questioning. The only thing you have been worrying about lately is the baby growing inside you and finding a way to search for the father of the baby.
It was the one thing that you talked about with Skye before you left. While you are capable enough to raise the baby on your own, you decided it would be the best course of action to contact the father and let him know.
In Skye’s own words, “Just in case.”
Just in case the father would care enough to know that he has a son or a daughter coming into this world and wants to be in their life.
“But if we fail to find him or he wants nothing to do with the baby, then we’ll deal with it on our own. You just got your promotion, I got my good pay. We can raise the baby together. You and me, just like old times.”
Skye’s words put a smile on your face. She always knows how to lift your spirit up whenever you feel like giving up, and those exact words have helped boost your confidence and made you believe that you could get through this.
But first, you just need to get through spending this holiday with your family.
“I know you said that. But as your Mom, I can’t help but worry. I thought you were serious and we’ll be hearing some good news about you getting married this year.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Sorry, Mom,” you tease her with a bitter chuckle. You don’t bother to mention that the two of you had never once talked about marriage throughout your relationship.
Yet another sign that you overlooked. At least you never got to waste anymore time with him.
“Things just didn’t work out between us. It happens when a couple grow into two different people in the course of their relationship. Which was exactly what happened to us. Hansol wanted to focus on his career, in return, I also got the chance to focus on mine.”
Just as you said the words, you realise that this is true for your case.
Hansol has always been career-driven, and it has been growing stronger lately for him with the constant rise he was experiencing in his current company. And breaking up with your long-time boyfriend has allowed you to turn your focus on your job. The recent promotion you gained was a testament to your hard work to show you that there might be a silver lining to everything that has happened.
“I suppose you’re right,” your Mom says with a smile. You are beginning to feel a bit relieved that she seems to understand. You are hoping that she would start talking about something else when she adds, “I just feel sad that it didn’t work out for you. And we were all expecting to have Hansol joining us again this year. I guess it’s too late now to let your sister know about this since she’s supposed to arrive today.”
Stepsister.
You lift your glass and slowly drink your tea to stop yourself from correcting her. For some reason, you feel a bit bitter having your mother mention her all so suddenly.
It isn’t that you hate your stepsister. It’s hard to feel something so extreme when you barely had any relationship with her at all. Back when you were younger, your mother did try to get you two to get along and be friends.
To make her happy, you tried your best to act friendly, or at least to be cordial whenever she was around, even when the only thing she showed you over the years had been nothing but contempt.
But things changed after a drunken fit that she had last holiday season, when she got drunk and tried to make a move and openly flirted with your then-boyfriend. Even if nothing ever came out of it except for her own embarrassment, as Hansol openly rejected her and stayed away from her for the remaining time he was here, the incident still left a bad taste that made you feel bitter.
That was when you finally decided that you would stop trying to be nice.
You put down the glass and try to remain calm. What’s done is done. All you have to do is focus on getting through this holiday before going back to the city and start with your mission to search for the baby’s father.
“What does Alia have to do with my break up?” you ask your mother, hoping that she wouldn’t bring up the drama from last year.
“Oh, it’s nothing serious, really,” your Mom answers with a soft chuckle, “It’s just that Alia called home sometime last week, asking if she could bring someone over this Christmas. She said that she’s been seeing someone new and since she was bringing him to meet her mother, she wondered if it would be okay if she could bring him along to meet us too.”
Your Mom sighs, looking a bit guilty when she adds, “We figured since you might bring Hansol with you, it would be okay if she has her new boyfriend along. Maybe the guys could get along and spend time together while you and Alia catch up.”
You try to imagine you and Alia catching up like old friends or—just like what your Mom has been wishing you to be—as sisters, and you almost shake your head.
Yeah, that seems unlikely, you bitterly wonder to yourself, yet you don’t have the heart to tell your mother that there is not much hope for you and Alia to be good friends.
“I guess it’s a shame that Hansol isn’t here,” you simply say to your mother while you inwardly wonder just what your stepsister is really up to this year.
“Yeah, it’s unfortunate,” your mother says with a sigh. “But I’m glad that at least both of you girls can make it home this year.”
“Me too, Mom,” you force a smile, silently hoping that you can start talking about something else. Something that doesn’t concern your bitter stepsister coming home or bringing up any dark thoughts about your ex. “So, what are we having for dinner? Want my help in the kitchen?”
Your question immediately puts everything into motion, drifting her attention away from your sappy story and the false hope of sisterhood that may never happen between you and your stepsister. Your Mom tries to stop you from helping out in the kitchen at first but finally gives in when you keep insisting.
At least, this way, you can keep your mind busy enough to stop it from thinking about unnecessary thoughts the way it often does when you are alone.
Things seem to be going on well enough at first, until your sickness returns and you have to give up trying.
”See, I told you that you should be resting until you feel better,” your mother complains as she watches you bending over, keeping away from the stove and what is currently cooking on top of it which seems to be making you feel dizzy and sick.
After garlic, lemon-scented air freshener, and coconut milk, seems you are going to have to add raw chicken to the list of things that may trigger your nausea.
“But then I’ll be bored like hell,” you argue, “I’m fine, Mom. Just let me take a quick break for a minute.”
Your mother looks as if she wants to say something, but the sound of a car coming into the driveway interrupts her. Both of you turn to look out towards the living room, just in time to see your stepfather, Cliff, turning in the corner of the hall and rushing towards the front door.
“Honey, they’re here!” he calls out, and you urge your mother to join him.
“Go, Mom. I’ll finish things up and make sure nothing gets burned before I join you guys.”
Once your mother is out of the kitchen, you can no longer resist pressing your palm on your stomach.
“Seriously, baby,” you whisper to the non-existent bump under your sweater, “Please take it easy, will you? I’m really struggling here, and you’re not making things easy for me. Trust me, it would be too soon for everyone to find out about you. At least wait until we can find a clue about your Dad, okay?”
As if the baby inside you is listening, even if it is still barely full-grown at this point, your body grows calmer and the nausea slowly wanes.
“Thank you, baby,” you whisper to your stomach once again before finally focusing on the stove and the oven, deliberately taking your time with what you do just so you can have a reason not to join the dramatic reunion happening right this minute.
From this side of the kitchen, the front door isn’t completely visible. But you can hear everything as the door opens and your stepfather joyfully welcomes his daughter.
Hearing his voice makes you smile. You may have had a tumultuous relationship with your stepsister, but the same cannot be said with your stepfather. Cliff has always been a great role model, and your relationship with him has always been great from the start.
It makes you feel guilty when you think about the previous encounters where you and your stepsister simply gave each other cold shoulders or when you were met with altercations just because of how different the two of you are. But there is no helping it. Nothing has changed over the years no matter how hard you tried. Not even once you have become adults.
You can’t even remember how it first started. And frankly, you no longer care. Last year’s incident was already enough to let you know that the sisterhood that your parents have been forcing you into was beyond saving.
The voices coming from the front door continue for a moment longer. This time, you get to hear your mother’s voice joining in the conversation and Alia’s soft voice answering her questions. You make no effort to listen to what they are saying and tune out their voices, until your mother’s voice calls out to you.
“______, your sister is here. Come and say hi.”
Your mother’s words make you stop. Slowly, you turn down the heat on the stove and turn to make your way towards the front door to join the family reunion.
“It’s stepsister,” you mutter under your breath as you drag your feet, taking your sweet time while you try to compose yourself before having to face the unwanted guests.
As you turn around the corner, merely moments before the front door finally comes into view, you get to hear another voice speaking. The voice that you couldn’t clearly hear from the kitchen while you were tuning their conversation out.
“I’m sorry for intruding. But thank you for having me here.”
That voice.
You immediately come to a halt. An uneasy feeling runs through your body when you realise that you recognise this voice and have grown to know it quite well.
There is no mistaking it. You may not have gotten his full name on the night you met, and his face has somewhat become a faint mirage in your dreams at night whenever you are taken back to the night of your hookup.
But you cannot say the same about his voice.
That deep and gentle voice will always be engraved in your memory. Even now, the only thing you would need to do is close your eyes and listen, and allow the voice to take you back to that specific night once more, where he used this voice to say sinful words that you could feel caressing your fragile heart while he was bringing you to the peak of pleasure.
And now you are hearing that voice here, at your home, idly chatting with your mother by the front door.
“_______, are you coming?” your mother calls again, and you know that there is no avoiding it. You have to face reality, even if that means you must come face to face with the man who is responsible for placing you in this situation.
Tamping down the rush of nerves going through your body, you slowly march ahead. Bracing yourself as you turn around the corner and enter the living room where everyone is currently gathering in.
Your eyes fall on your stepsister first.
Alia has always looked so vibrant and beautiful, drawing all kinds of attention from everyone in the room whenever she is present. Yet when you look at her now, there seems to be a new kind of light emerging from her. Even her smile seems brighter as she chats along with your stepfather.
And you soon realise the reason why she is shining brightly today as you turn your gaze to look at the person standing beside her. To finally see him.
He looks just like how you remember him. Tall and lean, with his arms and chest filling up his sweater. He has his hair falling over a part of his face, just enough of a mess that seems as if he has been running his fingers through the wavy strands. As he converses with your mother, he shows his boxy grin that seems familiar to your eyes.
Too familiar.
Because it looks just the same as the wide grin that was teasing and flirting with you on one eventful night at the transit hotel weeks ago.
No. That can’t be.
The baby’s daddy is here. The man who you were planning to look for once you return to the city.
He is here, today, appearing at the front door of your parents’ home together with your stepsister. His long fingers that had once entangled between the strands of your hair are now entwined with your stepsister’s dainty fingers. And there is no mistaking the matching couple rings that are glowing under the sunlight coming from their entwined hands.
Before you get the chance to process what is happening, you hear him introducing himself to your stepfather, “It’s good to see you, Sir. My name is Taehyung.”
No.
You stifle a gasp. It feels like you have been sucker-punched right in the chest that you can barely breathe.
Taehyung, you wonder. Tae?
All of a sudden, you feel as if the ground beneath your feet is tilting over, slowly taking you down with it. And since you seem to have lost the ability to move your feet, the only thing you can do to stop yourself from falling is to clench your hands tightly by your side. Tight enough to feel pain as your nails are sinking into your palms, convincing you that this is not a dream.
Yet you are still in denial as you watch the interaction happening right before your eyes. Because there is no way this is happening. There is no possible way that it is truly him.
Please. Please don’t let it be him.
It must have been your mind playing tricks on you. Because there is no way that he is here. Not as your stepsister’s new boyfriend.
This must be a mistake. Yes, you are probably confused and all the thoughts of finding your baby daddy are messing up with your head, forcing you to believe that your stepsister’s new boyfriend is your mysterious baby daddy. The fact that they have the same name must have been pure coincidence.
For once in your life, you don’t want to be right. You have to be wrong.
Please tell me that it’s not him.
Just then, as if life was listening to your prayers, as if life has yet to have enough of its games to play around with your heart, the man turns his gaze away from your parents. And those pretty eyes land on you.
As if there is a switch turned, the brightness in his gaze fades. His beautiful eyes are filled with recognition. It is so subtle that you are quite sure that nobody else around you notices it, but it is enough to let you know that your memories have been right all along.
Because those are the same eyes that you saw looking back at you with pure lust and sin while he was bringing you wanton pleasure, when you made love as if both of you had been under a spell, right on the very night that may have changed your fate forever.
Fuck.
Me.
At one glance, this moment would seem like any other pre-holiday family dinner. It may seem picture perfect, even—if you had been a stranger looking in.
There are still a couple of days left until Christmas Day, yet the festive mood has already filled the room. From the living room, all the way to the dining room, Christmas decorations are already plastered across the walls and hung from the ceiling. On the dining table, the delectable meal that your mother worked hard to prepare—with your poor assistance—had been perfectly laid out.
With Alia’s arrival today, the immediate family is now complete. Ever the charming daughter, Alia takes up the attention of everyone around her as she shares her story—about how she has been travelling between different states and some neighbouring countries, changing jobs, finding new hobbies, and even planning to adopt a new pet.
Sitting at the head of the table, your stepfather is soaking it all in, enjoying the time he has with his daughter whom he rarely gets to see throughout the year. Your mother sits on his right, getting the front seat of their merry reunion. She would sometimes chime in, never failing to try to get you into joining their idle chat even when you are not feeling up to it.
Other times, you would have been able to easily play along. From making cordial comments and joining with all the light jokes shared by your family, or feigning interest in anything that Alia might be sharing at the table—even when she rarely would share the same courtesy when you did the same.
Tonight, however, it feels like a struggle for you to focus on the conversation shared at the table, let alone pretend to be interested. Not when you are busy trying your best to calm your nerves.
You can't even embrace the same warm atmosphere that everyone seems to be sharing.
For you, the air around feels stifling and tense. It has been this way ever since you sat down right next to your mother for dinner. Because due to the seating arrangement, the special guest of the night is now sitting right across from you at the table.
Taehyung.
The last person that you had ever expected to see. Not here. Certainly not at your home or sharing the same space with your parents.
It seems surreal to meet him here like this. Even more so when he was introduced to your family as Alia’s new boyfriend.
Judging from the way he reacted when he first saw you, you can tell that he never expected something like this could ever happen. You know that he has questions, perhaps just as much as you do, yet the situation that you found yourself in right now isn’t allowing you to even show any sign that the two of you know each other or to have met before today.
But there is something in the way he is looking at you that doesn’t sit right with you. Aside from the lingering shock you see each time your eyes accidentally meet each other, there is a look that shows a semblance of guilt, despair, and at the same time, filled with wonder.
Was it because he never expected to see you again after that night, much less to find out that you are somehow related to the woman that he is dating? Or was there something else going through his mind?
“This is Alia’s sister, ______,” was what your mother said when she first introduced you to him. At that point, you and Taehyung were stunned to silence, and for a brief moment, neither of you reacted.
Thinking about it now, you can’t even remember how you managed to join your family in the living room. The moment you saw Taehyung standing there, your legs nearly gave out. It was a wonder how you managed to stop yourself from falling or tripping as you walked over to them in a state of distraught.
“Hi, it’s good to see you,” was all that you managed to croak out of once you snapped out of it. You didn’t even give him a chance to respond when you suddenly turned your attention to your stepsister, forcing a smile on your face when you greeted her, “Hey, Alia. It’s good to see you. You seem well.”
You can’t even remember the expression that Alia gave you when she responded to you, “Uh yeah, thanks. You too.”
“Right. Well, I’ll let you guys settle in. I left the stove on, so—”
That was the last thing you said before you turned away and quickly left the room, practically running away from him to hide back in the kitchen. The last thing you heard as you walked away was your mother’s voice saying something about you being her assistant of the day in the kitchen while you were feeling unwell, as if excusing you for your unmannerly attitude.
By the time you got back in the kitchen, your hands were shaking, your heartbeat was racing so fast you could barely breathe. It took a long time for the shock to wane, and you had spent the rest of the day staying away from both of them, avoiding him entirely until you were finally called to join dinner.
And you are still avoiding him even now, keeping your head down as much as you can and resisting the urge to look his way. As if it isn’t hard enough for you to have him sitting right in front of you, you can feel the heat of his gaze constantly following you whenever you are not looking.
He doesn’t make it so obvious, and it doesn’t seem like anyone else has noticed it yet. Perhaps you are just too hyperaware of his presence that you caught on to it so easily.
You sneak a glance at your stepsister, wondering if Alia has taken notice of her boyfriend’s wandering gaze or where he has been directing his eyes. It takes you watching the conversation between her and your parents more closely to see it.
Because it turns out that she also has her own gaze wandering to questionable places at the same time that she isn’t paying much attention to her boyfriend.
Each time Alia turns to regard your mother or speak to her, her gaze flickers away briefly, ever so subtly landing on the seat to your right. At the seat that Hansol would usually occupy whenever he joined you during these holiday visits.
It is easy to catch it when you are seeing it from your angle. And it is easy to guess what is going through her head when she keeps doing it with a curious look written all over her face. An unspoken question seems to linger, while the incident from last year keeps flashing through your head when you picture Hansol being present beside you.
Even if nobody notices her intention, you doubt that anyone would question her about it, seeing that the seat that was supposed to be left empty has been taken by someone else.
While you are busy trying to make sense out of everything, your grandmother makes a disapproval noise with her tongue, grabbing your attention. “Are you still feeling under the weather? You’ve been drinking that boring thing the whole day,” she says, referring to the glass of iced tea that you have just put down after taking a drink from it to cool down.
You turn to look at your dear grandmother, Honey, and smile at her. She probably hasn’t realised what a saving grace she has been for taking the unoccupied seat to your right the minute she came in for dinner.
And she is now helping you again by drawing your attention away from the source of your dismay. Immediately, you feel better the moment you are met with Honey’s smile.
“I’m feeling much better, actually. I’m just being careful not to drink anything that might get me sick,” you answer carefully, hoping to sound reasonable enough without making anyone question your ‘sickness’ any further.
The more you lie to your family about it, the more guilty you feel. You don’t have much choice at the moment but to hide it just a bit longer.
At first, you couldn’t share the news with your parents simply because you were still clueless about how you were going to find the father of the baby with only limited information you had of him. But then things only got even more complicated for you to ever come clean when he walked through the front door of your parents’ home.
What are the odds that the man you hooked up with turns out to be the man your stepsister is currently dating? And here you are now, stuck in the same room with them while hiding a secret which may change the course of everyone’s entire life.
Yeah, miracles don’t exist. Not for me, at least.
Honey taps at your hand on the table as you grow silent, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head. “You know what you need?” she asks, whispering in a conspiring tone that she barely keeps down so that everyone at the table can still hear her voice.
And she does it while looking at you with her wide, expecting eyes, with the barely concealed mischief written all over her face. It makes you smile, knowing where this is going. So you simply play along.
"No, Honey. What would that be?”
Her mischievous smile widens as she leans closer. “A hint of rum. With a few drops into that boring tea of yours, you’ll feel better in no time,” she says, lifting her hand and showing you a pinching gesture with her thumb and forefinger nearly touching each other, “Just a pinch. Or better yet, just trade your whole glass—”
The sound of your Mom’s frustrated sigh cuts her off. “Mom, I already told you, giving her alcohol isn’t going to make her feel better. I’ve already given her some herbal tea, that should be enough until she can get a proper rest.”
“Oh, posh,” Honey says, waving her hand at your mother. “Ignore your Mom,” Honey says just as you are about to respond. “I’m telling you. Alcohol is best to cure your heartbreak,” she adds, and you certainly have no arguments against that. Alcohol might be able to help you forget.
But, alas…
But, wait a minute. You stop and look closely at Honey. What is she talking about?
“What do you mean?” you question her while tilting your head, wondering deep down if she had noticed something. Surely, she wouldn’t be able to tell the high tension rolling between you and Taehyung through dinner.
Nobody else could. But you also know that if there is anyone in your family who might be able to catch on with the tension rolling between the two of you, it would be Honey.
Once again, Honey reaches out and taps her dainty fingers on the back of your hand. “Isn’t that why you’re feeling down, peaches? I know you’re still thinking about that good for nothing—”
Honey stops herself and bites down her smile before you can figure out what she is about to say. But you have heard enough to understand who she is referring to.
Relief washes over you when you realise that she was talking about your ex, Hansol. She must have thought that you have been stressing over the breakup and you have been feeling unwell because of it.
Honey leans in, this time lowering her voice just enough only for you to hear. “You must’ve taken it from me. I also get a stomach bug when I’m stressed out. Just like last summer when I lost a go-stop game against the ladies from the block,” she says, before she continues blabbering about how she had made bets during the game and went all-in only to lose everything.
“You might think that they’re nothing but small pennies used for gambling coins, but I spent a whole week collecting them. How am I supposed to replace all of them before the next game?” she continues to complain, while you laugh at her.
Her story takes away the tension on your shoulders for a brief moment before she adds, “And then you had to come here and watch these two being all lovey-dovey with each other.”
As Honey mentions the pair sitting across the table, waving her hand at them to make a point, your eyes are drawn towards them once more. And your gaze lands right on Alia’s hand which is now resting on top of Taehyung’s.
Seeing this makes you feel tight in the chest. Bitterness fills your mouth which you can barely hide with a tight smile. Honey may not have been entirely correct with her assumptions, yet her comment still hits the mark somehow.
Not about Hansol, obviously, as he is the one to occupy your mind the least. Yet she wasn’t too far off when she talked about the new pair of lovers before you. Seeing them does make you uncomfortable, miserable even, but for entirely different reasons.
Looking away from their joined hands, your gaze meets Alia’s. She is wearing an unreadable expression on her face as she listens in to Honey’s words. And the strange look that she is giving you now is making you feel uneasy.
Just as you start wondering if Alia has noticed something, she instead asks you, “You guys broke up?”
She throws a quick glance at Honey’s seat with a frown. For others, she might seem concerned, yet there is a look in her eyes which tells you that there is something more. “I was wondering why I haven’t seen him around. He was with us last holiday.”
Her comment rubs you in the wrong way. You have no idea why she would care when your relationship has nothing to do with her. But you try to not let it bother you. “Yes, it’s been months now since we broke up. I only told Mom and Dad yesterday when I first got home.”
“I see,” she says. Her voice comes out so softly that it almost comes out as a murmur. She pulls her hand back and places it on her lap. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry,” she adds while offering a small smile. And for some reason, she also seems guilty.
Does she think it has something to do with what happened last year?
Her words remind you of something that she said to you last year, back on the morning you confronted her after her drunken blunder which happened the night before.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s just drunk talking.”
That incident shouldn’t be bothering you today. Yet it still makes you feel bitter when you think about it. The feeling only grows worse when you glance at Taehyung who is showing a sudden interest in this whole thing.
“It’s fine. Sometimes things just don’t work out,” you simply repeat the same thing you said to your mother earlier while biting back the real question that is hanging right at the tip of your tongue.
But what’s in it to you?
No matter how curious you are to know what kind of scheme that is going through her pretty little head, you know it’s not worth all the drama that it might cause. You cannot even possibly imagine the drama that would unfold once this whole baby thing comes out.
God, just thinking about it is already making your stomach churn. Your lower abdomen suddenly feels hard and heavy. As if you have a full-size lead inside instead of a small, growing blob that is about to form into an actual living baby within a few weeks from now.
Thinking about the baby, your eyes find the man who is behind all of this. He has grown oddly quiet while you were conversing with your stepsister and is now staring at his food with a frown on his face.
“So tell me,” you ask calmly while clenching your hands, doing your best to hide the trembles, “How did you two meet?”
This question immediately draws Taehyung’s attention. His eyes snap up, but the moment he looks at you, his face seems to grow pale and he becomes awfully nervous.
“We, uh—we used to work at the same company before Alia left to venture into other things,” he says, almost stuttering. He also keeps stealing glances at Alia, as if begging her to help him out.
Huh, strange.
What is it about answering your simple question which makes him so nervous?
Or perhaps…
Have they been seeing each other when the two of you hooked up?
Fuck.
The moment this thought crosses your mind, you suddenly feel sick. Your stomach grows heavier with anxiety. Meanwhile, Alia’s smile seems to beam brighter.
“We didn’t work in the same division back then, but we would frequently meet during breaks and company hours. Had it been, what, a year after we last met?” Alia turns to Taehyung, who stiffly nods his head. She grabs his hand once again and looks at him lovingly as she continues, “We met again last summer by chance while I was travelling and started talking since then.”
Last summer? But that was before—
Your head starts spinning. You grab your glass and take a couple of small sips of your tea to regain composure, yet the drink suddenly tastes bitter on your tongue.
Honey’s voice barely registers in your brain when she responds with a hum. “Travelling in the summer? That sounds like a charming way to meet a new lover,” she says, lifting her mug to her lips as she continues marvelling at your stepsister’s story. “You must have felt some sparks when you two met. I bet you’re still feeling it now, aren’t you?”
You have no idea what she has inside that ceramic mug, as she had been nursing the same drink since even before dinner started. You can bet money that she had more than a pinch of rum dropped inside that drink of hers, seeing how talkative she is becoming.
Oh, how you wish you could have a taste of it. Just a sip would have been good enough. Maybe it can also help to stop your hands from trembling.
“And the ring?” Honey asks again with a teasing tone as she points at their entwined hands. “I noticed that you two are wearing matching rings. You can’t possibly be engaged already, can you?”
Almost choking on your drink, you slowly set your glass back down and pull your hands onto your lap, hiding them from prying eyes just in time as they begin to shake.
“But it wasn’t that different back in the day,” Honey continues, “I remember that Russ—that’s my dear late husband,” she explains to Taehyung, “he bought me a cheap ring at the beginning of our relationship to show me and my parents that he was serious about courting me.”
On any other times that Honey would speak about your late grandfather, you would always enjoy listening to every word, admiring how she would always share her story with pure love in her voice and wonder glowing in her eyes.
But not this time.
Ever since she pointed out the ring and started talking about your grandfather’s old promises, you start having trouble breathing. The more she speaks, the worse it gets, and now there is a ringing sound echoing in your ear that seems to be coming from different directions.
“I still keep the ring with me, side by side with the wedding ring that doesn’t fit anymore on these wrinkly fingers of mine,” Honey keeps gushing. She raises her hands and starts wiggling her fingers to show them off, while your whole body grows tense.
Alia shares a nervous laugh with Taehyung and waves her hand at Honey. “Oh, no…it’s actually a part of a joke that we—”
You try to tune out the voices, the words that are being said, while clasping your hands tighter together on your lap, but the shaking doesn’t stop. Alia’s voice fades in and out beyond the loud ringing in your head as she continues to tell her story about how they started dating and the ring came to be. With everything that is going on, added with your awareness over Taehyung’s intense gaze that doesn’t seem to waver, it becomes too overwhelming that you feel as if you are slowly being swallowed into the ground beneath you.
With a sharp gasp, you slowly push yourself out of your seat. “Excuse me, I have to—” your voice cracks as you speak. As you stand, you notice that everyone has their eyes on you, all curious to know what is happening with you.
“_______?” you hear your mother calling you.
You can feel the blood draining from your face under all the unwanted attention, making you wish that you could just fade away right at that moment. But then your hand find its way to your stomach, and it almost feels like there is a touch of warmth forming under your palm. It helps you force a smile and gather yourself just enough to say, “I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to step out early. I hope that’s alright. You guys enjoy the rest of dinner.”
You don’t wait for anyone’s response as you turn away, finding your escape merely moments before you get into a full-blown meltdown right in front of everyone.
Your legs are wobbly as you walk down the hall, yet you still manage to slip into the guest bathroom downstairs. With trembling hands, you lock the door behind you, shutting yourself from the world outside.
And that is when you fall apart, turning into a heaving mess as everything that you have been bottling up inside comes flooding out of you.
“Breathe,” you command yourself while you fight back against your nausea. Holding onto the bathroom counter, you keep yourself and try your best to focus on controlling your breath.
Take a slow, deep breath. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Little by little, all the tension, the trembling, and the tightness in your chest begin to wane. But once everything is gone, once you begin to find calmness, your emotions seize control of you.
The next thing you know, an unstoppable flow of tears comes running down your face and you start sobbing, crying in defeat.
“Shit. Fuck. What a mess,” you curse between each sob, feeling absolutely helpless and alone. You close your eyes, hoping that you can clear your head by doing so. Yet your mind keeps going to dark places. Constantly wondering and questioning about all of this.
About him.
“Did he ever mention anything that was related to his personal life that night?” you cannot help but wonder out loud.
Only silence answers. Because you hold little to no recollection of the details from the conversation you shared with him that night. Whenever you try to remember, it always feels like there was a part of your memory that had gone missing.
You haven’t had the slightest clue of the things you shared with him at the bar once the drinks started coming more frequently. Which is a wonder, because you are completely sure that neither of you had gotten drunk enough to experience a blackout, much less lose a memory.
At least for you, the alcohol was just enough to burn through your nerves and help build your confidence to take the lead and openly show the attraction you had for him. Even if he did end up taking back control the moment the two of you finally gave in to temptation.
Your head starts pounding, aching the more you try to remember the missing details. Meanwhile, all the questions won’t stop coming, making it harder for you to regain a peaceful mind.
Did he ever mention having a girlfriend, or at least give any hint that he was taken?
Was he wearing that ring on his finger when he was touching your skin under the dim light of his bedroom suite?
You shake your head and close your eyes again when you still remember nothing. The only thing that remains in your memory is the look you saw in his gaze that night. The pitiful look that seemed to mirror yours, making you believe that he was looking for the same thing you did that night.
An escape. A way to forget even if for a moment.
But what if that was all just another lie?
Your stomach churns. A sharp pain comes shooting through your body. It starts from your lower abdomen, causing you to almost double over.
Fuck. Now what?
Your hand instantly comes down to your stomach, pressing and rubbing gently against it until the uncomfortable ache ebbs under your touch.
Right, I’m supposed to avoid any form of stress, you remind yourself as you recall what your doctor told you the last time you went to see her. Something about getting your blood tension rising when you are stressed, and that it wouldn’t be good for both you and the baby in the long run. Closing your eyes, you try to think of happy thoughts, all while keeping your palm pressed on your stomach.
To your surprise, rubbing your palm against the barely-there baby bump on your belly isn’t just helping you to soothe the pain away, but also to calm yourself down.
With a sigh, you gently wipe your tears and look down. “I’m sorry for swearing so much, baby. I promise to stop doing it once you’ve grown big enough to start hearing things so you won’t learn any of it too soon. But fuck, this is too much.”
It feels odd to speak like this to the living being growing inside you that is barely more than a piece of flesh. Yet speaking to your growing baby seems to help ease your anxiety a little.
Better yet, it helps make you feel less alone.
“Let’s not think any bad thoughts. Let’s not assume that your Dad is an asshole, okay? Not until we get to hear the full story,” you whisper to the tiny human growing inside you. The more you speak to it, the more it seems to be helping you to find some ease of mind.
But even if it turns out that he was…
“Then I can deal with it later with my head held high,” you murmur to yourself in a soft, yet reassuring tone of voice. And you repeat it again, and again, almost as if you are chanting a spell which would be able to give you a boost of confidence.
It may not immediately change the way you look at things, yet you can feel it slowly rising within you. It feels like a ray of light, the first spark of hope that you get to feel amid all the uncertainty which surrounds you.
Soon enough, the strong urge to cry no longer overcomes you. Even your hands have stopped shaking. All that you have left is exhaustion. It rolls through your body with a vengeance, and there is nothing that you want more right now other than to curl up like a ball on your bed and sleep it off.
You raise your head to look at yourself in the mirror, and instantly a bitter laugh escapes you at what you are seeing.
Because you look like a complete mess. Your life is slowly turning into shambles, and it seems to be mocking you through your own reflection that is now staring back at you.
“Just exactly what I need,” you whisper with a sigh.
I need to be stronger, if only for the sake of this little one in me, you tell yourself as you splash cold water at your face to wash away all the mess—the drying tears, your swollen eyes, and the skin on your face which has yet to regain its normal colours.
It feels therapeutic to be washing everything off, leaving nothing more but your swollen eyes which you can explain as a part of your sickness. You may not be strong enough to take on the world, but at least now, you are prepared to face the reality that is waiting for you right outside of this door.
No matter how fucking messy it is.
Having this new revelation should be giving you a newfound credence that could push you forward. And yet there is none of that here. The only thing you are feeling now is the new bout of anxiety rolling up through your body, starting from your stomach as it churns painfully.
“Yeah, now I feel sick,” you groan as you rush to the toilet bowl, seconds away before you start dumping the small amount of food you had during dinner into waste.
It takes a bit longer than expected before you finally find the courage to step out of the bathroom.
Soft murmurs filter into the bathroom the moment you open the door. You can tell that the voices are coming from the living room, which means that the family has gathered there after dinner. It allows you to breathe a sigh of relief. At least this way you wouldn’t have to hide or make excuses if you have to bump into someone on your way to your bedroom.
Stepping out of the bathroom, you are relieved that nobody is around. Everyone should be in the living room, so you make haste, hoping to be able to escape before anyone notices.
But as you turn to the next hallway, someone is standing in your way. The light is dim, yet you can easily recognise him before you get any closer. Standing with his back leaning against the wall, he has his hands tucked into his pockets and his eyes looking absently into the distance.
As though he has been waiting for you.
Taehyung turns when he notices you coming. Before you can start to wonder what he is doing here, a smile grows on his face.
“Hey, is everything okay? Everyone was worried,” he asks you, sounding genuinely concerned.
The calm tone of his voice might be a bit deceiving if only you are not looking into his eyes. His gaze keeps wavering as he speaks, as if he is unable to look at you for too long. The same guilt you saw earlier is still present in his eyes. And you hate seeing it there.
It only tells you that he has a secret that he is keeping from you. You have no idea how to feel about it. But if it has to do with his relationship with Alia, then—
“I’m fine, it’s just—”
Your cheeks grow warm the moment you speak, feeling embarrassed at how dry your voice sounds. “It’s nothing. You heard my Mom, I’ll be better in no time.”
You have so many things to say to him. So many questions that you would like to give him. But you are too tired to do anything. Much less to talk. As much as you can convince yourself that you are ready to face anything, now is not the right time to do it.
So you keep your mouth shut and try to walk past him instead. Only that he isn’t letting you go that easily.
“You know, it really is nice to see you again, Red.”
His voice sounds so subdued that you almost miss it. You come to a halt. Your heartbeat starts picking up again. If you ever needed confirmation that the sinful night you shared with him truly happened, and that he remembered any part of it, then this is it.
His comment which instantly brings you back to that fateful night. The nickname that he used to call you then.
You close your eyes, refusing to remember the way he managed to draw out a myriad of sensations with his voice alone. You refuse to be brought back there again. Not now, when your mind isn’t clear enough to be dealing with this. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself just enough to face him.
Only to be met with his amused smile as he looks at you.
“I was surprised to see you. I never would have thought that you could somehow be related to Alia.” He lets out a chuckle. It sounds empty and a bit bitter, mirroring exactly how you are feeling right now.
Your chest feels tight, hating the way he is saying her name. Nor do you enjoy seeing the way his gaze changes when he does it. Annoyance fills your chest that you can barely speak, while he remains in his blissful ignorance as he continues talking,
“Funny how life works, doesn’t it? I kept thinking about you after we met and wondered if we would ever see each other again. I regretted that I didn’t ask for your number before we parted ways. I didn’t even get to ask for your real name.”
The tightness in your chest grows tenfold.
You never admitted it before—not to yourself, and not even to Skye, when you first talked about him—yet there was some point between that night and the day you found out about the pregnancy that you spent your nights wondering if you would ever see him again.
If there had been one thing that you regretted about that night, it would be the decision you made to leave the next morning without asking for his real name or leaving any means of contact.
A night to escape from reality.
That was all it meant for you at the time. So when the morning came, it was time for you to return to reality. Your reality. Your real life. And you were too busy preparing yourself to face all the hurt, the bad memories, and the stressful life that had nothing to do with the desirable woman that he brought into his bed the night before to even consider exchanging contacts with him.
It didn’t matter if you were still riding the high of that night’s self-gratification and wanton pleasure through the rest of your trip. The moment everything ended, you simply moved on from it. Putting everything about that night to the back of your mind as you returned to your normal life and quickly fell back into your normal routine.
Until weeks later, when life decided to fuck you over and you ended up with a baby growing inside you, and you had no way to find or contact him to inform him about it.
“I guess it can’t be helped, given the circumstances.” Your conviction quickly melts into dread once you are reminded of the current circumstances. “It’s kinda too late now to talk about it and regret what didn’t happen, don’t you think? Seeing that you’re now dating my stepsister.”
Taehyung winces. For a brief moment, you almost believe you can see a glimpse of hurt flickering through his gaze. And for some reason, it only pisses you off.
So he doesn’t like being reminded of the fact that he is here for someone else?
“Look, about Alia. I was hoping that we could talk. Maybe when all of this is done, or maybe after the holidays we can—”
He continues talking, but you aren’t hearing anything. The questions that flooded your brain earlier come flashing back. The ringing that pained you returns. Everything lasts for a few more seconds before your mind clears out, and only one question remains.
“Were the two of you already dating when we slept together?”
He falls silent, taken aback.
“No!” he immediately says, almost shouting. But he quickly reins himself before his voice would reach where everyone is and draw their attention. “Fuck, no. Is that why you’ve been sulking all through dinner?” he asks you with a hiss. He seems offended and hurt at the same time. “I’m not that kind of guy. Trust me.”
“Sulking?” you let out an incredulous laugh. Is that how he saw it? When you were coming close to breaking apart right in front of everyone because of him?
“How am I supposed to trust you when I barely know you? How am I supposed to know that you’re telling the truth?” you snap back at him with a hiss. “Just because we fucked it doesn’t mean that I’d magically know everything about you.”
Again, he winces at your question. As if your words come to him like a slap on his face. He takes a deep breath and speaks more calmly in response, “Look, we should talk. Soon. I can explain everything. But not now, okay?”
As much as you hate to admit it, or to agree with him, you decide that he is right. There are a lot of things that you need to discuss with him, and now is not the right time to do it. Not when your emotions are all over the place and when he has his girlfriend keeping him in close sight most of the time.
“I agree. We do need to talk,” you finally agree, even though you know that both of you have different things in mind.
You have no idea what he intends to discuss with you. The only thing that matters to you is to talk about the baby that you conceived together. And hopefully, decide what will happen next.
“I should go,” you sigh, feeling exhausted and drained. “I need to lie down. This is too much for me to process.”
You try to walk around him so you can continue on your way. Your head is pounding, and you have the dire need to rest in your comfortable bed, where you would be able to feel safe and hide away from all of this.
“Wait,” Taehyung stops you before you can go too far.
“What?” you ask him, feeling exasperated—both from the stress and from the way your body still tingles each time you hear his voice. You really need to get away from him.
“Nothing, it’s just…” he starts, suddenly looking nervous with what he is about to say. The sound of laughter echoes from the living room, making him glance over his shoulder briefly before speaking to you with a lowered voice, “Can you do me a favour?”
You frown at him. “What is it?”
He looks wary, and it makes you feel uneasy in the stomach as you wait for him to speak.
But what he says next makes you feel even worse. “Please don’t tell Alia that we’ve met before, more importantly that we hooked up that night.”
You say nothing at first. Even if you are well aware of the situation and where Alia’s position in all of this, it still doesn’t stop the sharp pain you feel in your chest as he mentions her name, or to express his request.
Taehyung steps closer when you remain quiet. His voice comes as a desperate whisper when he pleads with you, “Please? Can you do this for me?”
You grit your teeth. “Fine, I won’t,” you finally say to him. But you refuse to give in that easily.
Taking a step closer to him, you point at him and demand him, “But you need to tell her.”
He clenches his jaw as he listens to your demands, but you ignore it and continue to talk. “She needs to know—” your voice nearly wavers, because you know what would happen once everything is revealed.
Telling your stepsister that you had slept with her boyfriend would not only be hard, but it would be ugly.
But it would be better than keeping it a secret for much longer. Because secrets don’t always remain hidden, no matter how hard you try to keep them in the shadows. And things would even get messier once the baby comes while she is still being kept in the dark.
It’s better to bite the bullet as soon as possible, rather than waiting and living your life in uncertainty until the day comes.
“If you don’t, and we keep this a secret much longer, things might get messier if she somehow finds out on her own. The last thing I’d ever want is to get into any drama. Not with her,” you try to convince Taehyung, despite him looking like he would rather bolt and have nothing to do with any of this.
After all the drama that happened last year, the last thing you need is to get involved in another.
“I’ll tell her myself if necessary.” There is a bite in your voice when you are telling him all of this. To his credit, Taehyung—despite looking shell-shocked and cornered—seems to respect and understand your request.
He lowers his head and nods. “Give me time. I’ll—”
You are surprised to see him looking defeated. It makes you wonder if there is something more about their relationship that you need to know before going further.
As Taehyung raises his head again, he seems more resolved. He looks straight into your eyes as he promises, “I’ll tell her myself once I get the chance to. I promise. But we’re going to have that talk first, and soon.”
“It’s a promise.” You bite back the ache that suddenly pierces through your heart, seeing how he is so adamant about protecting his relationship with your stepsister. Trying not to look too deep into it and get yourself hurt further, you avoid looking into his gaze and start walking away from him.
“Goodnight then—” you whisper to him as you turn away from him, biting back the sound of your defeat when you call his name, “Tae.”
The moment you are within the safety of your bedroom, your knees buckle. Thankfully, you still manage to close the door and lock it behind you, once again shutting yourself from everyone to give you some moment of peace.
Although it doesn’t stop him from entering your mind in the silence that follows.
As you lie down in your bed, curled up in a fetal position with your arms wrapped around yourself, your mind wanders back to the conversation you just had with Taehyung in the hallway.
You can’t help it. His words keep coming back to you, and you keep finding yourself dissecting everything he said. You close your eyes, and keep telling yourself to stop. The situation that you are dealing with right now already seems absurd enough for you to waste your energy trying to understand him.
You begin to wonder if things would have been better if you hadn’t come across each other again. Things would probably turn out differently. You may have to keep the baby’s existence a secret from him, and the truth about the father a secret from your family.
You may have to deal with everything yourself.
The possibility seems petrifying, but it still sounds a lot better than having to go against your stepsister. Better than causing your frail relationship to become even worse. This time, you know that this would be big enough to ruin any chance for you and your stepsister to have any kind of relationship at all.
He was right. It’s funny how life works. If only it doesn’t have to be this hard to laugh it off.
Stop it.
Keeping your eyes closed, you let out a deep sigh and force yourself to think about something else. Anything. As long as you are not thinking about him. His face, his voice, the scent of his cologne, everything that belongs to him.
Your head starts swimming. No, everything about him now belongs to someone else.
Once again, you force yourself to start thinking of less stressful things. Like Skye’s text message from this afternoon suggesting that you could run away with her to a secluded place somewhere in Europe so that the two of you could raise the baby together. Or the little stories that Honey shared about the cute new gardener now working at her apartment complex—the complex specifically built for elders like herself—that she wanted to introduce to you the next time you come by to visit.
You regret forgetting to pick up the smoothie that your mother made for you while you were throwing up in the bathroom, all due to Taehyung’s distraction. You wonder if having the smoothie would be able to help you feel better. Picturing the drink being left attended in the kitchen, you can picture your grandmother—the sweet little mischievous angel that she is—sneaking in a few drops of rum into the smoothie when your mother isn’t looking.
This thought makes you smile. It replaces every ugly thoughts that keep circling inside your mind and calms you down.
Your heartbeat is no longer beating like crazy. The more you fill your head with wonderful thoughts, the sooner the uneasy feeling in your stomach begins to wane.
And soon enough, you start drifting away to a restless sleep.
But just like how he invaded your home with his sudden appearance, Taehyung invades your sleep once your mind is left unguarded.
Speaking to him, albeit briefly, brings you back to that night. The moment you close your eyes, you start seeing everything from back then that you couldn’t remember in your waking hours. Even the smallest details that your conscious mind has forgotten. Everything comes crashing down on you as you toss and turn in your bed, unable to give in completely to a peaceful slumber as memories continue to flood your dreams.
Six weeks ago…
You opened your eyes and squinted.
The overhead lamp above your head was bright, and it was hurting your eyes. You could barely see a thing through your bleary eyes, until your gaze drifted further, looking into the dimly lit bedroom far across the foyer.
The room looked more spacious than yours, albeit a bit messy. The massive bed looked comfortable, and there were two lounge seats set up near the windows that looked more luxurious than the ones you had in your room.
“Your bedroom seems a lot more cozy than mine.”
The words came out of your lips with a moan. The sound seemed foreign. Barely recognisable through your hazy mind. But there was a familiar sensation slowly rising in your body that hadn’t at all come from the alcoholic drinks you were having tonight.
“Hmmm…You think so?”
A deep, sultry voice spoke as a pair of hot lips made their way down the side of your neck, tracing your skin with delicate kisses that made it even harder for you to think straight.
Shivers ran down your body. Heat rolled through your chest. And it almost seemed to you that your skin was becoming even more sensitive to the touch when even the most subtle caress of his fingers was able to light up your senses.
Right after the voice spoke to you, he suddenly switched and started kissing his way up. You blinked, and his face came into view just as he looked down at you. The beautiful face that captivated you when you first met him at the bar was presented right before your eyes.
So close. So tempting. And his eyes were so intense that you nearly lost your breath. He smiled and leaned down, capturing your lips with a kiss.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he murmured against your lips, drawing another moan out of you which snapped you from your daze.
You sighed as you gave in to the chaste kiss he was giving you. “It’s kind of hard to look around and see anything when you have me pinned to the door.”
He let out a soft chuckle and once again pressed his lips on yours. As if he was both pleased and amused that he got to put you in this position. When he pulled back, the look in his eyes softened.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It’s all your fault for teasing me all the way here while I couldn’t allow myself to touch you with so many eyes paying attention,” he said without any hint of regret in his voice.
“Well, forgive me because I wasn’t aware,” you taunted him back, knowing fully well what you had done to tease him until he was on the verge of breaking apart even before you reached his hotel suite.
As much as you wanted to hold back, you were quite sure that you hadn’t gotten things wrong. You couldn’t have possibly mistaken the chemistry that kept sparking between you. And the way he kept openly staring at your body was enough to make his intention clear, as his eyes seemed more honest than the words he gave you.
But back at the bar, you had let him be the first one to make the move.
With his sturdy hands, he was the one who pulled your seat closer. By placing his arm on your backrest, it may have seemed as if he was marking his territory for anyone else at the hotel bar to see. Normally, something like this would’ve put you off. But there was something in the way he did it that made you feel otherwise, allowing you to give in and lean more into his warmth instead of pushing him away.
That was when you reciprocated his actions with your own. The light and subtle touches of your fingers on his arm drew soft shudders through his body. The accidental brushes that happened when you moved against his body pushed him into wrapping his arm around you, keeping you close before he finally pulled you out of the bar.
When you leaned close enough to whisper softly against his ear, you could feel goosebumps rising on his skin, his heartbeat escalating under your palm, and he could barely hold himself back from devouring your lips right there at the hotel lobby. Right where everyone could see you falling into pieces under your sinful desire.
By the time you were alone with him in the elevator, the tension between you just kept escalating until he finally snapped.
He nearly dragged you across the hallway leading to his bedroom suite in his rush to get you alone. The moment he pulled you in through the door, every bit of his composure simply left him. He barely gave you a chance to catch a single glance of the suite, as he immediately pushed your body against the door and kept you there.
Until this moment.
His eyes grew dark after listening to your answer. His breath is still ragged after the hot kiss that he gave you once he got you pinned between his hard body and the locked door behind you.
With his broad chest locking you in place, his hips pressing against your lower body, he left you with nowhere else to go. But this didn’t seem to be enough for him. Looking into his eyes, you could tell that he needed to see you become even more vulnerable. Almost as if he wanted to punish you for putting him on the edge.
And he did exactly that as he slipped one hand around your neck and pulled your hair, tilting your head back so that he could continue exploring the column of your throat with his sinful lips. Instead of resisting it, you simply gave in. Arching your back to him further as he trailed kisses on your skin, your hands clutching on his jacket to hold on.
He used his other hand to explore the rest of your body. Starting from your waist, he continued to move further down to your hips. Tracing every curve, every dent along your body with his firm fingers pressing through your thin dress.
Just as he was about to reach the hem of your dress, he suddenly stopped and pulled back.
“Tell me again. Are you sure this is what you want?” His voice was quiet when he asked you this. It sounded as though he was caught between convincing himself that this was happening while giving you an out for one last time before getting too deep.
But you had gone deep.
And you knew then that the moment you let everything happen, there was no going back from it. Everything about this was new to you; hooking up with a complete stranger while you were in the middle of nowhere, and knowing that once the night was over, both of you were going to move on with your lives.
It felt thrilling to think about it, and the liquid courage should help you in letting go of your inhibitions. Yet you couldn’t deny the fact that you are feeling slightly nervous about jumping fully into this.
When you failed to answer him, Tae leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss right below your ear and whispered, “Well? Talk to me. Because there is no going back from this once we begin, and I won’t let you go until you tell me what you want.”
The way his breath tickled your ear and caressed your skin broke you out of the walls you put up. Every flicker of doubt you felt immediately melted. You brushed against him, allowing him to feel every bit of heat coursing through your body before you answered with a whisper, “Yes. I’ve never been so sure in my whole life.”
You could feel the way his breath was caught as you pressed your palm on his chest. Pressing against him, you raised yourself up and nipped his chin with your teeth.
“This is what I want.”
You weren’t completely sure if you ever got to finish your sentence when all of a sudden, his lips came crashing into yours, pressing firmly as he kissed you, barely concealing his desire for more.
The kiss unleashed your own desire. You opened your mouth for him in return, allowing him to devour you, to have a taste of your demands as he thoroughly kissed you until you were left breathless in his arms.
His hand began to move again just then. Tracing down your hips, he pressed the tips of his fingers harder into your flesh. He made it seem as if your dress had melted into your skin with the heat of his touch that you felt completely exposed to him. And he didn’t stop until he finally found the exposed skin of your thigh.
Your body quivered upon contact, and you could tell that he felt it too. He began stroking your skin, moving at a slow, agonising pace just to put you on the edge.
And he easily succeeded. Already, you could barely breathe, even when he was still far from touching any part of your body that needed him the most.
Overcame with need, your body started moving on instinct. As if his touches were controlling you as you lifted your thigh for him. His grip on your thigh tightened, helping you to keep your leg up and open yourself to him while his kiss became sloppy yet gentle as he released his hold on your hair.
He moved his other hand down, brushing against your covered breast with a brief contact and continued trailing down. You felt him pressing at your hips, before pulling the hem of your dress upward until your lower region was completely exposed. His hand continued its travel as it climbed up your inner thigh. So you opened your legs to give him better access. A move which he appreciated with a deep hum, before you felt his thumb brushing up just an inch away from your throbbing core.
“Should we move this someplace else? Somewhere that would be more comfortable for us?” he asked you with his lips hovering close to yours.
It took a moment for his words to sink in. Too lost in the sensation that you were made to feel, you felt as if you were drunk and high, not from the alcohol that was no longer running wildly through your veins, but from his entire presence alone.
All thoughts faded further as his thumb grazed across the front of your panties, finding your folds through the fabric before he pressed down, enough to give pressure on your covered clit. Sparks flew through your half-lidded eyes as pleasure came rushing through you in waves. You couldn’t stop the moan slipping out of your lips, nor the way your hips rocked into his touch to feel more.
“So responsive,” he murmured against your neck before he planted a light kiss on your skin. “I would have loved to watch and enjoy every reaction that you would give me, every sound you make, while I have you lie down on my bed and fuck you senseless.”
Your breath hitched and caught in your chest. Not only because of his words, but also from the way his thumb continued to rub against your covered clit. It felt sinful, yet so delectable the way he kept drawing more and more sparks and shuddering pleasure through your body.
After being deprived of such attention for quite some time, your body became more sensitive to every friction, every treatment he was giving you, and you simply wanted more.
“Then take me there. Take me to your bed.”
As if you had flicked a switch in his brain, his expression changed. His gaze darkened as he captured your lips with unrestrained need, yet he was careful when he picked you up, pressing you against his chest when he turned and moved to take you away from the door.
You wrapped your arms and legs around him for balance, while your lips remained locked in a deep kiss. You could feel his long stride as he began carrying you across the room. His kiss and his firm hold on your bottom cheeks were enough to draw your attention away from his clumsy footsteps, but not enough to deny you from sensing the changes happening around you.
The scent of his cologne grew thicker as he went deeper into the room, and you were getting more and more lost in him. Drowned in his heat, his kiss, and the traces that he had left behind all over his bedroom, you felt him everywhere all at once that you felt like you were being put under a spell.
All so suddenly, you were pulled out of it when he broke away from the kiss. He laid you gently over the cold white sheets of his partly-made bed. Instead of joining you right away, he chose to pull back. His eyes seemed to glint in the dimly lit room as he took this moment to take you in.
“Beautiful,” he murmured softly, drawing heat back to your face.
He kept his eyes on you as he shrugged off his jacket and began peeling his shirt from his chest. Desire pulsed through your body as you watched every move he was making without ever drawing his attention away from you.
The more you watched him, the stronger the pull that you felt towards him. Once the need to touch him took over, you reached up and tugged on his pants, hoping that you could quickly shred them off of his body.
You barely grazed against his covered hard-on when he stopped you by catching your wrists. Like a disappointed teacher, he made a disapproval sound with his tongue.
“Patience, Red,” he teasingly said to you as he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it off of you with one swift move. You fell back to the bed with a gasp, shocked to see how easy it was for him to take over until you were left with nothing more but your lacy underthings.
The intensity you felt from his gaze made you want to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. But being half inebriated was making you slow in thoughts and movement that you couldn’t do anything but lay still. At the same time, you enjoyed the way he was looking at you, loving how he was losing himself to you the same way you did to him.
But it was the words that he said next that further brought out your wanton needs.
“Be a good girl and stay still. I want you to stay just like this,” he said with a murmur while his eyes ran down your body, “I want you to lie on your back while you are screaming out my name.”
If only you hadn’t been so lost for words, perhaps you would have challenged him in return. Instead, by the time every piece of his clothing was gone, you felt like you had melted further into the sheets. The raw passion you saw in his gaze and the way he was tracing his fingertips on your skin had locked you completely in place, leaving you with no other option but to surrender as he took control.
He bent down, his lips came down to your neck. Planting his kisses on your skin, he kept your attention away from his hands as he snapped off your bra and went down to pull your panties down your hips. As he dragged your panties down your bare legs, he continued his kisses further down, not stopping until he reached your heaving chest.
You couldn’t even remember what happened to that flimsy piece of fabric that he took from you. Everything else faded as his tongue grazed across your chest, drawing a gasp out of your lips. His firm hands returned to your hips right then, holding you down while he captured your taut nipple between his teeth.
The feeling that coursed through you was heavenly. A shooting pain came with a flare as he bit down, yet it was quickly replaced with an overwhelming feeling of pleasure when he lapped the pain away with his sinful tongue.
“Tae—”
His body quivered against yours at the sound of your voice. He pulled away with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched you arching your chest as if you were chasing him.
He ran his gaze down your body. Perusing you while silently admiring what he was seeing while he licked his lips. As if he was picturing the way you would taste.
“Tell me how badly you want this, Red,” he taunted you with his hand reaching out to the nightstand. You vaguely saw him grabbing a condom while you were struggling to breathe. Your eyes fell on his exposed, throbbing cock, and words simply left you.
Seeing its impressive size and girth, your entire body erupted with a pulse. It started from deep inside your core, right where you wanted to feel him the most. Astonished, you failed to remember that he was still waiting for your answer with his eyes locked on your face.
And he made you struggle further to find words when he reached down, wrapping his long fingers around his cock and started giving himself slow, lazy strokes. You could see the bead of his pre-cum glistening under the dim lighting. It took everything in you to stop yourself from leaning forward and lapping him dry. To have a taste, before you let him devour every drop of your essence.
“Red? Talk to me,” he spoke to you again with a curious tone in his voice.
He knew that he wasn’t getting any attention, as your eyes were locked only at one place that was not his face, and he seemed to be curious to know what was making you so lost in thoughts.
Instead of answering him, you continued to watch, completely transfixed by his actions, as he slowly spread his pre-cum along the length of his cock. You licked your lips, almost as if you could taste him. A barely concealed whimper slipped out of your lips when you watched him slowly roll the condom to cover himself from the tip of his cock and down to the base.
Seeing him covered with protection seemed to snap you back to the present. Even if your pulsing need still refused to tame down.
Resting back against the pillows, you dragged your eyes away from his impressive cock to his beautiful face.
“I want you here. Inside me,” you finally responded to his question. Placing your palms on the underside of your thighs, you parted your legs open, making him see the mess that had been building up right between your legs while you were enjoying the show he was giving you.
Now it was your turn to give him a show.
Reaching between your legs, you moved your fingers to find your folds. You bit back a gasp once the tips of your fingers were met with your wet arousal. It felt slick as you moved your fingers around, parting your nether lips so he could see your swollen clit, before you moved your fingers in circles, pressing at yourself the exact same way you wished he would.
“Please, fuck me, Tae. Fuck me good.”
His pupils dilated at the sound of your voice, at the pleading words you were giving him. You loved the way he was reacting to you just as much as he did with you, yet you decided to push his buttons further by adding, “And then I want to hear you scream my name while you cum inside me.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What a little brat,” he said, chuckling. “So you like to play games, hmmm?”
You bit your bottom lip, holding back a moan that was threatening to come out when your touch inadvertently pushed against the source of your heat. “Oh, I do. Games are always fun.”
While he continued stroking his cock at a lazy pace, he used the other hand to grab your neck. His palm fit perfectly as he wrapped it around the column of your throat, putting pressure that was not enough to choke you, yet enough to show you who was in control.
“Then let’s play,” he groaned while he pressed you back down on the bed. “But this time, I make the rules.”
You felt the electrifying pleasure surging through your body as he brushed your hand away and lined himself against your entrance, shutting down the circuits inside your brain for a moment and stopping you from wiggling too much beneath him just to feel more friction.
A sharp moan was drawn from your lips as Tae slammed his full length deep inside you. The sensation that you felt from being filled by his width was so feral and explosive that you were sure you immediately experienced your orgasm right then and there.
Your body must have been shaking, which was a response that you failed to notice as you had your senses filled with the steady pulse of pleasure pressing across the girth of his cock. He must have noticed it when he came to a halt, giving you a chance to process everything and adjust to his presence inside you.
Nothing made sense to you beyond the pulsing pleasure that you felt from your hot pussy. Your senses were filled with the sound of your racing heartbeat, the soothing touch of his fingers on your skin, and the whispers of his voice calling you back to him.
He only managed to bring you back to the present by pressing gentle kisses on your lips, nose, and then on the rest of your face, stopping only after he kissed your lips again to draw your attention back to him.
Your legs were quivering when you opened your eyes to see him, yet you could already tell from the way the pulses that came right where you were joined started to settle, that your body had adjusted perfectly to his size.
But it didn’t mean that you would simply take it without sharing your thoughts.
“You’re—big,” you complained with a soft moan when you felt him growing harder inside you. It didn’t stop you from rocking your hips, trying to feel more friction, while he merely chuckled at your words.
“And it’s perfect for your tight pussy.”
His words drew a gasp from you. But he didn’t pay much attention to it, as he slowly began to move. He started with a slow pace, which was torturous and agonising, forcing you to feel the delectable way his girth was brushing against your pulsing walls.
Back and forth he went, going so deep you could almost feel him pressing up your stomach before pulling out until only the tip was buried inside you. He kept moving at the same pace, until you began to feel more desperate. Even your body was shaking with the need to feel more.
“More—!” you whispered with a strangled moan, “go faster.”
Hearing this, instead of doing what you were begging him to, Tae denied your plea by doing the opposite. With a wicked grin on his face, the fucker slowed down, bringing the pleasure that had been rising back down a notch.
You opened your mouth to protest against it, and he moved his hands down your hips, stopping at your thighs where he gave you a tight grip.
“You want more?” he asked you, his voice almost seemed to grow deeper, and you could feel a tinge of danger when he spoke. The same danger you saw coming through his gaze as he slowly brought your legs up.
You expected him to stop once he got your legs up his shoulders. But he just kept going. And going. Until you were nearly folded with your legs almost pressed to your chest.
“Tae—!”
It made you feel vulnerable, with nothing but your hands to use to hold on while he had full control of your body. He was still buried inside you, and this position allowed you to feel him more. As though you had grown tighter around him and he was growing bigger. His entire length and width made you feel full, as his cock was pressing tightly against your hot walls.
“You wanted more,” he murmured as he began moving, rocking his hips slowly back and forth, going in and out of you, drawing more and more of that shuddering pleasure out of your body as he continued fucking you gently. “I’m giving you more.”
He began increasing his pace. Going faster the more he heard you moaning in pleasure. “Lift your arms, Red. Bring them up and hold the pillows.”
It took a moment for his words to register in your head. Your hands had been clutching tightly on his forearms and it was a struggle to let go. And he waited, tormenting you by keeping his pace much too slow to your liking until you followed his command.
Your hands trembled as you unlatched them from his skin. You could barely feel your fingers as you dragged your hands up, as every part of your body grew more sensitive the more you opened your entire self to him. Keeping your eyes on him, you got lost in his intense gaze.
It was then when you finally came in contact with the soft pillows above your head, and your fingers easily sank into them, latching onto them as you did when you were holding onto his arms.
“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmured gently, and you were pleasantly surprised to realise how much you loved hearing his praise. Warmth bloomed in your chest, and it easily made its way down right to your core. “Now hold on tightly and don’t let go.”
And you did just that. Holding on tightly the way he wanted you to.
Only once he gained complete control of your body, once you fully submitted to him, he finally fulfilled your wish. He held firmly on your thighs to keep them folded and open for him, and he began ramming his cock deep inside you.
He was doing it faster. Harder. Sending you high in pleasure while all you could do was take his constant pounding. The only leverage you had to hold on was the tight hold you had on the pillows and the weight of his body that was pressing you down each time he pushed deeply inside you.
The anomalous sounds coming out of both of your lips kept bouncing off the walls. Followed by the sound of flesh clashing against flesh, the slick sounds that came from right where you were joined, and the creaking sound of the bed beneath you.
He kept going, relentless in his rough thrusts and his need to push you over the edge, until you could feel the rise of your orgasm coming in waves. The wanton pleasure that was hot and intense came rising inside you, growing rapidly with his deep thrusts until you finally succumbed to it, coming into your climax with a scream.
“Tae, I’m coming,” you cried out to him as you fell over the edge, though you weren’t completely sure if the words coming out of your lips were as coherent as you thought they would have been.
The sound of your pounding heartbeat seemed to drown everything away. Except that you could still hear the sound of his breathless grunts as they grew clearer, and the strangled moan that came out of him when he shouted, “That’s it, Red. Fuck, I’m coming!”
With a sharp intake of breath, he came to his climax. You felt every pulse of his release as he came inside you, and the tremble in his chest that surged through him with his deep groan as he relished the pleasure. Even after his release, he kept moving, rocking slowly and steadily until the spasms of your orgasm slowly began to wane down.
He remained buried inside you when he gently released you from his hold. You could barely feel his lips pressing on your quivering thighs before he lowered them back on the mattress, yet his gentle fingers remained hot on your skin when he brushed up against you.
He reached up and gently pried your fingers away from the pillows before slipping his fingers between yours. The way your fingers were entwined together felt so intimate. So unlike anything that you had ever thought about what a one-night stand would entail.
Your body felt hot, and your muscles were lax, but there was a series of small spasms still going strong from deep inside you, coaxed by his incessant rocking. You should have been pushing him off of you, instead of embracing his weight as he lowered himself, covering your body with his own.
“Tae—” you whimpered against his lips as he kissed you. Holding your hands in his, he continued to rock his hips.
How he managed to remain so hard and stiff even after his climax was beyond you. He still felt thick as he moved. His cock brushed against your pulsing walls as he went in and out, awakening all sparks of pleasure that were supposed to have dwindled.
And with how sensitive your body was, it rose and peaked so quickly and you had no power to stop it.
“Too…much…” you cried between the strangled moans coming out of your lips, right before he swallowed them with another kiss.
“One more,” he groaned as he picked up his pace. “Just do it one more time for me, Red.”
You were so sensitive it was beginning to hurt, but the pleasure was also maddening that you didn’t want to stop. This time, he wasn’t holding you down so strongly, allowing you to move beneath him. So you rocked back against him, pushing up each time he was thrusting into you. It only took a couple of more strokes before the coil in your core snapped, and you were sent to another climax.
And he joined you in your release, falling into a smaller climax of his own as you clenched tightly around him.
He came with a deep groan. His whole body quaked against you before he finally fell on top of you. While you were trying to control your breath, his lips came brushing your neck, kissing you gently to help soothe down the shudders running through your body.
“Fuck…so perfect,” he sighed between his kisses, his voice came in and out through your senses, and the sparks you felt rushing through your body started waning as you were slowly drifting away into the night, with his words echoing in your dreams,
“You are perfect.”
Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading so far. Any likes, kudos, comments, and feedbacks will be appreciated. The story continues in part 2.
© All rights reserved. 2024 Yoonia — Unauthorized use and/or duplication of these works, including reposting, translating and modification in any form, is strictly prohibited.
#k-vanity#bangtanwhq#taehyung smut#bts smut#taehyung fanfic#taehyung scenario#taehyung angst#taehyung x reader#bts fanfic#bts scenario#bts angst#bts x reader
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I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR ANGST SM, WELL WRITTEN ISTG!! as one of my favorite angst writer, i had this idea in my mind for a long time. imagine you found out that you're 12 weeks pregnant and you were too excited to surprise satoru about it but when he came home, he broke the news that he got his ex pregnant. he was cheating and the surprise slipped out of your mind and you got angry at him and led into an argument... YOU CAN CONTINUE IF YOU WANT. I REALLY WANT TO SEE HOW OR WHAT ENDING YOU'LL WRITE. and also, make it a very very angst 😋
anyway, don't be a stranger g.satoru
pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader
cw: heavy angst, infidelity, pregnancy, illness, mentions of death, cremation, as usual not proofread hehe
a/n: YOU ASKED FOR THIS OKAY?? anyways, happy reading :p
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it was positive.
the moment you saw two red lines from the pregnancy test you bought, you didn't know what to feel at first, you were in disbelief so you tried it for the second, and third time, but the results did not change at all so you took this as a cue to visit a doctor, and there was no doubt in it, it was revealed that you were 12 weeks pregnant.
how should you tell your husband? satoru was barely home from his work after all. you knew how hard it is to be a new company's head so you understand him.
and so you dialed satoru's number as you nervously bit your bottom lip. he answered at the fifth ring.
"hello?"
"satoru–" you paused, and a small smile made its way on your lips. "can you come home, tonight? are you busy?"
"uh, not really." he sounded unsure but you didn't even noticed it on how excited you were.
"can you come home tonight, please?" you repeated.
"alright." he said as you heard him sigh from the other line "i– wanted to tell you something." he said and satoru's tone was unrecognizable, it was like his voice was slightly shaking.
"okay?" you worriedly said. "see you later, satoru. i love youuu."
"mhm, i love you too."
-
if someone would see you right now, they would, in an instant, notice that you were celebrating something special. you sure were prepared for satoru's return, you even wore nice dress and a cardigan as you await for his arrival.
and here he comes.
satoru enters the door and saw you approaching him.
"welcome home." you said as you leaned your face his chest followed by a kiss on his cheek. it was unusual on how he didn't return your advances as he walked past you.
his gloomy approach was affecting you as you placed a concerning hand on his shoulder, the surprise you prepared for him suddenly slipping out of your mind.
"what's wrong, honey?" you asked as you felt him tense up.
"you know i love you, right?" he said, and you thought you've read those words from a book before. you just hoped that the words he would say next wouldn't hurt you as much as the words on the book did.
you hummed in response as satoru turned to face you.
"i'm really sorry, my love. please forgive me."
"satoru, what's wrong? why are you– i'm scared." you said as satoru face palmed, his own body giving up as he was forced to sit down on the couch as he opened his mouth to speak and..
what was he saying? you sure you've heard it but, it sounds muffled when it entered your ears.
"i'm so sorry." he said as he stood up, embracing you as tight as he could so you wouldn't have a chance to step away from him.
"how long?" you muttered and satoru wasn't familiar with the tone of your voice. he didn't respond and it made your blood boil as you pushed him. "i asked how long!" you yelled.
"4 months."
"4 months?! 4 fucking months and you're just informing me about it right now? is that why you're not always home?!" you were screaming at this point and satoru tried to reach for your hand but you were quick to draw back.
"i already cut off ties with her! please believe me."
"satoru, you got someone pregnant! do you want the child to grow up without a father?" you exclaimed as you released a heavy sigh.
"it was just a mistake, we were drunk." satoru said as he embraced you.
-
"are you sure you'd let me attend the reunion?"
"yup, why? don't you want to?" you said as you fixed his tie.
"my ex is going to be there, though." he said and out of all the reactions he could get from you, he didn't expect you to smile at him as you pinch his nose.
"i trust you, satoru. i already did the moment we exchanged vows."
-
satoru was sure that the trust you had for him was already gone by now.
"take responsibility, satoru." you said as you push him by his chest.
"i love you so so so much, (name). please, i can't live without you."
"satoru, you can't just have me around while raising a child with another woman! what would people say?"
"like i told you, i already cut off ties with her."
"i know how it feels to grow up without a father, satoru." you mumbled as you look down on the ground. "it'll be fine. i'll manage, somehow."
"no–"
"why are you being stubborn!"
"you're being selfish!" he exclaimed as you gasp in surprise. selfish? you? how could he say that.
"you'll thank me someday, satoru." you mumbled.
"(name), please.."
"satoru. understand the situation." you weren't screaming anymore and.. why was he crying?
satoru took your hand on his as he placed it on his cheek and leaned on it, his tears stopping on your fingers and, you couldn't help but tear up as well.
"it'll be fine." you mumbled, voice breaking as you closed your eyes.
"i swear with all of my heart, that i love love love you. i'm sorry, forgive me. i didn't have enough courage to tell you sooner, because i was scared that it'll end up, like how it is now."
"it'll eventually come, you can't hide it from me forever, y'know." the storm was starting to calm as both of you spoke with hushed tones. "now go."
"let's talk about this one more time, please?" he mumbled as you slowly removed his hand on yours.
"then tell me, 'toru. what's there left for us to talk about?" you asked and satoru was, unfortunately quiet. "there's nothing, right?"
"love, please. i'm so sorry."
"what's done is done, satoru. we couldn't possibly go back in time and fix everything, right?"
"please." he whispered, hoping for something that he, himself doesn't even know what.
"i won't hate you for this, satoru. it's just– i hope you told me sooner."
"i'm so sorry. i'm grateful to have you as my wife, i'm sorry if i couldn't treat you like how you deserve it."
he really didn't deserve you. you were so understanding that satoru couldn't even look at you in the eyes.
"i'll say it as many times as i could. i love you. i didn't regret marrying you." he said as he cupped your tear stained cheeks and leaned his forehead on yours. "i don't really deserve you." satoru leaned in, kissing you and kissed back because both of you knew that, it was for the last time.
satoru left your apartment after settling things out. you fell on the couch as you felt something on the pocket of your cardigan.
"fuck." you muttered as you laughed bitterly, clutching the results in your hand, placing it close to your chest. you forgot the surprise and now that satoru have made up his mind, you knew there was no point on telling him anymore. grow up without a father, huh? now you're the one to talk.
a week has passed.
"hey." he acknowledged as he sat beside you inside the court.
"hey." you responded as you fiddle with your fingers. a gesture satoru noticed when you're uncomfortable. were you uncomfortable around him?
"how have you been?"
"i don't know." you said as satoru went silent.
"are you okay? let's stop this divorce if you–?"
"no, i just don't feel well."
"you can still change minds, y'know." satoru mumbled, anxiously tapping his feet on the floor.
should you tell him? it was a chance, the only chance left before you and satoru have to separate ways. but as you recalled it, he mentioned that his supposed to be ex was 4 months pregnant and you were just on you were just on 12 weeks, equivalent to more or less than 2 months. it was her advantage.
"it'll be fine." you said as you sighed.
"you always say that."
-
"so, this is it?" you said as you stand across each other and satoru looked to his side and he was caught off guard when he felt you hold his hand, he took note of your cold hands.
you placed the wedding ring on his palms as you forced to close it.
"no." he said as he placed it back on you after removing his own ring. "i want you to keep it. for us." he said.
"okay." you said, turning around as you placed his ring and yours inside your bag.
"(name)." he called as you looked back. "i'm sorry i broke my promise, to have a happy family with you." he said and you wanted to tear up but you reminded yourself that it's not the right time to as you smiled at him.
"find me in another life then we can have a happy family there." you joked as both of you laughed.
is it normal to be like this with each other as if satoru hadn't just got his ex pregnant? as if both of you just haven't came out of the court after signing the divorce papers?
"i'll come and visit when i can." he said, and you hoped he would keep his words this time.
"okay."
"for the last time. i love you." you do too, but this time, you didn't say it back anymore.
"don't you think sanyu is a good name for our child?" satoru said as you look up at him.
"do you want to have one?"
"i'd love to have a happy family with you."
"is that so? but why sanyu?"
"sanyu means happiness. it means we are happy that we have him." he said as you chuckled in response.
"and how are you so sure that it would be a boy?"
"instincts."
-
his instincts was right. you had a son with him and you named him sanyu.
unfortunately, when sanyu turned a year of age, it was found that he had a very weak heart. there wasn't a day where you and your son doesn't visit a hospital. he was just a kid but they already wanted to take him away from you.
"mama." sanyu called. there were a lot of tubes that was connecting his body and it hurts to see your son suffer like this. you always hoped that it was you suffering instead of sanyu.
"yes?" you responded as you sat on the nearby chair.
"papa? where?" he curiously asked and your heart couldn't hurt more. you were lying to your child all this time, that his father was not around because of his job. you'll have to explain it to him when he grows up though.
you held sanyu's hand on yours as you softly caress it.
"papa's not here. he's very very busy!" you said as sanyu frowned. "don't worry, papa will see you soon, okay?"
"okay. love love mama, papa."
-
you bit your bottom lip as you stared at your contacts. your eyes switching from the phone to the surroundings as you slowly became anxious.
his contact was still in your emergency. you took a deep breath but in the end, you just couldn't dial his number, proceeding to call the person below his contact as you place the speaker close to your ear.
"hello?" you said as you heard a small gasp from the other side of the phone.
"hey, how are you? we haven't seen you since."
"i'm doing fine, thank you for asking, geto."
"what's the matter? why'd you call all of the sudden?"
"satoru." you said as you paused, gathering some courage left in you. "um, how is he?"
"well– he's doing good."
"he is, huh?" you mumbled. "can i ask you a favor, please?"
"of course. is it about satoru?"
"kind of?"
"alright, but satoru's a very busy man now, that's why it's gonna be hard to contact him these days."
oh.
"don't worry, it's not about that. can you– can you come here at the hospital? i'll send you the address and explain it to you later."
-
suguru arrived earlier than you expected it to.
"i'm sorry for calling out of the blue." you said as you approached him on the front desk.
"it's fine." suguru said as he shrugged. "why here at the hospital? are you sick?"
"i'm not. come, follow me." you said and suguru silently obliged as you finally stopped at a certain door. suguru noticed your discomfort as you slowly opened the door.
"mama!"
"hi baby. i brought someone." you said as you approached your son.
"what?" suguru mumbled in disbelief and he was left frozen on the door, his eyes widening. it was like a child version of satoru was infront of him.
"papa?" sanyu asked as he tilted his head to the side.
"i'm sorry, sanyu. i can only bring papa's friend." you said, your heart aching as your son frowned.
"sanyu?" suguru asked as he approached the two of you.
"i'm sanyu!" your son exclaimed and once again, suguru could only sigh in disbelief.
-
"how old is sanyu?" suguru asked when both of you left the room to grab a drink outside.
"he's 4 years old."
"does satoru know?"
"no."
"then tell him." easier said than done.
"you know i can't." you mumbled. "the favor–" you said as you faced suguru. "can you tell sanyu about his father? i just couldn't.." you mumbled as you played the can of the drink with your thumb.
"alright." suguru said and you smiled at him in return.
"thank you so much. it's just.. the doctors said he doesn't have enough time to–" you paused as you wiped your tears with your sleeves. "sorry for asking you this, geto. you are the closest to satoru, that's why."
"i understand, don't worry about it too much."
"i just couldn't tell satoru. i want sanyu to know what he wants to know. i couldn't tell him because i'm scared that i'll tear up once i mention his father to him. they said sanyu's running out of time.. i don't know– i'll just have to accept it nonetheless." suguru looked at you in pity as he embraced you.
"don't think about it, okay? sanyu will live and so satoru will know about it. i'll help you with it, 'kay?"
"okay, thank you.."
-
"you look like your papa."
"really?!" sanyu exclaimed happily as suguru hummed in response. "mama said papa is busy.."
"it's true, that's why i am here to tell you about your papa." sanyu looked at suguru hesitantly as he proceeded to ask a question.
"hmm.. is my papa good?" sanyu asked as suguru looked at you.
"he is. and he loves your mama so much."
"then why is he always busy?"
"sanyu." you called him, indicating to not ask those type of questions as he frowned.
and so sanyu asked a lot of things about his papa like what's his favorite color, favorite food, what he hates the most and many more, and you were thankful that suguru was there to answer it all when you couldn't.
-
"thank you, geto. i somehow feel at ease now."
"why don't you tell satoru about this?" suguru said as you started to zone out. should you? or should you not?
part of you believes that satoru has the right to know but part of you doubts it. satoru have a family now, a family without you. how would people think if they found out the owner of the famous company has a son from another woman?
you were once married to satoru, it was a mistake to let him take responsibility of his ex' pregnancy but, she was already at her 4 months of pregnancy while you're on your 12 weeks, she's clearly at the advantage.
"i'll try." you said as you embraced yourself for warmth.
"he's free around this time every thursdays." suguru said and you only nodded at his words.
satoru was on his way to his office and he thought he caught a glimpse of you and, he wasn't wrong, it was really you.
"(name)?" you were startled at the voice as you placed your phone behind you.
"gojo–"
"i hate it when you call me that. call me satoru." he said, frowning at you as you laughed nervously. "you look tired. what's–"
get straight to the point.
"are you busy?" you asked, cutting him off.
"well.." he placed his palm on his nape as he looked behind your shoulders.
"dad!" a voice called as a kid you haven't saw in your life appeared beside him. "what's taking you so long? mom's waiting."
"i'm sorry (name)."
"no, it's fine." you said, smiling at him and satoru knew better than anyone that your smile was forced.
"who's she, dad?" the kid asked. this must be satoru's child.
"an old friend, sanyu." satoru said as he looked at you and he wonders what made you look surprised. "go ahead first, i'll follow after you." he said as his son started to walk away.
"sanyu, huh?" you said as you looked behind his son's retreating figure.
"yeah. sorry about that." satoru said.
"why?"
"i don't know. but it was supposed to be our son's name."
"that's all in the past now." you didn't mean to sound harsh but something just hurts.
"right."
"i'll take my leave then." you said, every step you take makes your heart ache as an apology for you son slipped out of your mind.
"(name)." he called once again as you stopped in your tracks but you didn't face him.
"you were right when you said i'll thank you someday." he mumbled and you knew very well that he was smiling as you gulped the lump in your throat. "so thank you. i am the happiest father, ever. even if–" he paused and you didn't respond. it was like he was rubbing a salt in your wound as you heard him sigh. "see you then." he said as you felt his hand on your shoulder for a moment before his footsteps disappeared, and then you took your leave after, going back to your son, who was waiting for your arrival.
but, why was this happening to you? of all people?
"hold onto mama's hand, mhm?"
"mama, sorry."
"mama's sorry too, i promised that you'll see papa but–" sanyu shake his head, something like disagreeing to your apologies.
"it's okay, mama." sanyu mumbled, the sound of the monitor beeping slowing down as you hold onto his hand tight. this happened before already, he will get back to normal soon, you were sure.
"mama loves sanyu, papa too. always remember that, okay?"
-
"hey (name)!" suguru called from the distance as he approached you. "what are you doing outside? oh by the way, i was wondering if i can bring shoko too? she would be delighted to see a carbon copy of satoru." suguru chuckled but he noticed that you were quiet, your hand was between your thighs as you stare at the ground.
the door opening caught your attention as the doctor came out after what it seemed like a year as he slowly shake his head left to right.
"i'm sorry ms. (name) but your son didn't make it."
"but you said he'll be fine! i am paying enough why couldn't you–!"
"i'm very sorry. we already did what we can." you were about to start an argument when you felt a hand on your shoulders and the doctor bowed at you before leaving.
and it all came crashing down as your body lost its strength, unintentionally leaning on someone, which was suguru.
"what am i supposed to do now?" you asked, the emotions you've been keeping all this time was starting to go out, all at once. "sanyu's all i have." you didn't even care if people watch as they walk pass by. "what should i do now, satoru?" you mumbled, voice breaking as you call the name of the person that wasn't even around.
-
"my condolences, (name)." suguru had managed to calm you down as he handed you a bottled water and sat beside you.
"i've decided to cremate sanyu. it hurts but it'll be for the best so.. so i could keep him near me." you said.
"i'll support your decision but i think you should tell satoru about it."
"no." you said, your tone was strict but it was quick to dissipate as you clutched the bottle in your hand. "i went to his workplace yesterday."
"what happened?" suguru asked.
"his son's name is sanyu too. i'm guessing you know it?" you asked as his breath hitched silenty.
"yeah." he mumbled.
"well, it was the name he wanted when we were still planning." you mumbled as you smiled at the memory. "geto, i trust you not to tell anyone about this. it's just you and me who know this, okay?"
"i'm sorry but–" suguru paused. "i told shoko about it." you were surprised at first as you sighed at him.
"it's fine. i trust shoko too."
"yeah, sorry about that but– i was really hoping that you tell satoru about it because–"
"there's no need. thank you for telling my child everything he wanted to know, geto. i owe you."
"listen–"
"geto, as much as i am thankful for you, please understand that i don't want to hear things regarding satoru anymore." you said as suguru nods in response, feeling bad for pushing you when your still mourning for your lost and now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?
#nana.gumi#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk angst#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru angst#gojo angst#satoru angst#satoru x reader
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you-know-who [a.a]
pairing: dad's business partner abby anderson x f!reader
summary: abby has been your dad's loyal business partner for quite some time, and she's totally off limits, but that doesn't stop her from appearing in your wet dreams every night. tonight they just happened to come true.
warnings: mdni 18+, dom!abby, sub!reader, virgin!reader, experienced!abby, fingering [r] face riding [r], strap usage [r], strap referred to as cock, pet names, praise, bondage, age gap, slight overstim, breeding kink brrrr
word count: 3.7k
Your dad is good at a lot of things. He's good at business, making deals, and negotiating. But being a dad? Not so much. Sure, you got to go to banquets and beautiful galas, but it wasn't worth the expense of no father figure. The worst part of it all is when he pretends to be present but, in reality, knows nothing about you.
Your best friend, Dina, sat on the end of the bed while you rummaged through your wardrobe, trying to find something nice to wear. "It's just dinner." She said lazily, not looking up from her phone. "Why don't you wear that blue dress with the slit? You look really good in that one." You groaned, turning to face her.
"I wore that one last time, remember? I can't wear it twice in a row. Plus, this is a really big brand deal for my dad. I need to look my absolute best." You continued to contemplate dresses until you finally decided on one. It was black, with a square neckline that always made your cleavage look phenomenal. It hardly came to the middle of your thigh, but sitting at a dinner table, you were sure no one would notice.
"Is you-know-who gonna be there?" Dina asked, setting her phone down as she was suddenly intrigued. She smirked as your face reddened a little.
"Yes, she's going to be there. Gotta look my best. Tonight could be the night." I winked at her.
One good thing about having a dad who's a multi-million dollar CEO is that he tends to have the finest employees of all time working for him - especially Abigail Anderson. You and Dina have a running joke that sometimes you and Abby will hook up because she always eyes you the same way you do her.
Tonight definitely wasn't going to be the night for a multitude of reasons. First, she's 33, and you're 21, which basically throws you out of the competition. Second, your dad was going to be home tonight, which meant you were home tonight. Dina promised that she could cover for you, but you've never taken her up on that opportunity. And last but certainly not least, if your father found out you slept around with his right-hand woman, you would probably be disowned, and she would probably get beheaded.
You held your head high, though, as you began to do your makeup and curl your hair. Once you finished, you slipped the dress over your head and zipped it up with assistance from Dina. "You know, if you throw on and dress and do your makeup, you could come with me. My dad probably wouldn't notice."
"Nah, I'll leave you and your soon to be wife alone for the night. Have fun, baby girl." She kissed your cheek and started collecting her things. You walked her down to the front door, bid her a good bye, then shut the door.
Mere minutes later, a black car pulled up outside the door, and you knew that meant it was time to go. You grabbed a black handbag and heels, then rushed out the door.
When you arrived, you took note of the fact that all of your dad's colleagues' cars were parked together, and there was Abby's black Porsche, looking sleek as ever. You grinned, then remembered where you were and dropped your face back into a neutral position.
As you walked toward their private room, you spotted your father and approached him. "Hey sweetheart," you hugged awkwardly, "grab a seat. We're waiting on five more people." You smiled and nodded, entering the room and analyzing it. There was Abby, with a glorious open seat next to her. You claimed it, placing your handbag on the floor and your napkin in your lap.
Abby looked at you briefly, smirking when you met her eye. She knew she looked hot. You knew it, too. She made a basic white button-down, and gray slacks look so good. You could hardly imagine what she'd look like naked. All that muscle, the veins that popped from her arm. She was a walking wet dream if you'd ever seen one.
"You look good tonight," she whispered, and even over the commotion of the table, you could hear her. "Maybe even better than last time."
"Likewise, Ms. Anderson." You complimented, using the sluttiest voice you could muster. Her cheeks got red and she turned away, jumping into a conversation with the table of people. Your eyes jumped from her sharp jaw to her full lips, thinking about how good she would look between your legs.
This happens every time.
But tonight – tonight was different. Tonight, you decided that you were going to do something about it. I mean, the worst she could do is turn you down, right? You stood, brushing your hand against her thigh as you excused yourself to the bathroom. Once there, you fixed your makeup and pulled your dress down and little at the top, just to make your tits look better.
You left the bathroom, putting a hand on her shoulder as you stepped into and took your seat. "Ms. Anderson," you asked, getting her attention. She immediately looked over to you, eyes dropping to the top of your dress before quickly snapping back up. "Could you pass the water?"
"Yes ma'am," her voice was low and her eyes were dark. She grabbed the pitcher and refilled your glass for you, smiling as she placed it on the table.
Your dad asked you a question about something, but all you could think about was Abby's hand, which was now curiously dragging along your thigh. Your breath hitched, but you played it off with a cough and continued talking.
Suddenly her large, warm hand was under your dress, tracing circles on the inside of your thigh. Your conversation with you dad had come to an end at this point, thank God, because you were seconds away whining and begging her to continue.
Once she was sure that your pussy was aching, she pulled her hand away and cut into her food, taking a bite. Your head was a little dizzy, and you tried to comprehend if that actually happened or not. You needed some way of making this go further. If you went to the bathroom again it would look suspicious, but it seemed like the best plan right now.
"You're going to follow me." You said to her, standing up and walking out of the room. You went into the single bathroom, waiting patiently. Two minutes passed and you got slightly irritated, considering going back. But the door opened, and there was Abby's brooding figure.
"What are you doing, y/n?" She asked, leaning against the bathroom wall. "'Cause it seems a lot like you're trying to get my attention." Your mind was blank. Why did you think this was a good idea? "Do you want my attention, sweetheart?" Abby took a step forward, causing your ass to press gently against the bathroom sink.
"Yes, Ms. Anderson." You ran a hand down her chest and abs, feeling them contrast under your hand. "I want you." You pulled her further into you by her waist, so that her thigh was slotted between your legs.
"Here's what we're gonna do, sugar," she dipped her head so that her hot breath hit your neck, "You're gonna come to my house after dinner in this dress," she kissed your neck lightly, "and I'm gonna fuck you until you know no name but mine." You practically whimpered under her touch. "Yes?"
"Yes." Abby backed up, fixed her shirt, then left the bathroom. You followed minutes later, taking your seat next to her.
The dinner droned on and on, to the point that you wanted to just get up and walk out with Abby on your hip. But you didn't. You suffered through having to listen to brand deals while also thinking about the ache between your legs and everything she's going to do to you.
You wanted her to tie you to her headboard and fuck you with her strap until you came three times, maybe spank you. You wanted her to do bad things to you ‐ but the worst part was that you hadn't actually done anything before.
Finally, finally, your dad closed the deal and the dinner began to come to an end. You shot up, grabbed your bag and rushed to your father. "I'm sleeping at Dina's tonight," you told him. He kissed your head and whisked you away, too high on the feeling of making a new deal that he didn't have time to pay attention to you. "Take me to Abby Anderson's house." You told the driver, who nodded and pulled out of the lot.
You got there before her, awkwardly, and stood outside. She arrived 5 minutes after you, striding toward you with an absolute purpose. "Someone's eager." She said, smirking. She let you in and you sat your bag down, then kicked off your heels. You were so much shorter than her without your heels, and it was oddly hot. "Can I get you anything?" She knew you wanted to fuck, and you weren't having it.
You grabbed her and kissed her roughly, groaning when she grabbed your waist and pinned you to the counter. Her warm tongue breached your lips and massaged yours, with nothing sweet about it. She grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you onto the island. "I'm so much older than you baby," She mumbled into your neck. "We probably shouldn't do this."
"It turns me on, Ms. Anderson." You moaned as her teeth came into contact with your favorite spot on your neck. You ground your hips into the air, looking for anything with friction.
"Oh, you want me so bad, princess." She mocked, cupping your cunt. You cried out, grinding into her palm. "Have you ever been with a woman?" She asked, grabbing your hips to grind them against her palm.
"N-no one," you whimpered, "I've never been with anyone." You expected her to remove her hand and tell you to leave, that she wouldn't do it, but she didn't. She swiftly lifted you off the island and placed you on the floor.
"I'm gonna ruin you, baby. Now follow me." You took her hand as she led you up the steps and down the hall to her bedroom, where she locked the door. "Take your dress off and lay down." You did as she said, but she disappeared into a room off of her bedroom. You heard the water running while you laid down, and she came back out moments later.
Her hands were washed and she had a strap in one of them that she sat down on the nightstand. She shed her shoes and buttoned down, tossing them in a pile with your dress, then climbed over you. She pushed your knees up around her hips and began kissing your neck lightly. "How many times do you wanna come tonight, honey?"
"Um.." you were practically braindead by that question. "One?" That's all you needed. Not like you had ever done this before. She groaned softly.
"How's three?" You gasped, rolling your hips into hers. "Three’s good then, sugar?" You nodded quickly, running your hands down her torso. She reached behind you and unclasped your bra, pulling it off and tossing it somewhere. You whined as the cold air of her room hit your nipples. Everything suddenly became very real, and it finally clicked that you were laying half naked in your dad's partner's bed while she kneaded your tits and took them in her mouth.
"Oh Abby," you moaned as she bit gently on your nipple. Your head fell back, and you grabbed at her hair to keep her going.
Abby almost came in her boxers after hearing you moan her name. She had wanted this since the day she met you, but never made a move. Her cunt was throbbing, and she was just about ready to hump her bed like she was some kind of high schooler giving head for the first time.
Abby ran her thumb down your pussy over your underwear, moaning at the way you squirmed under her. She ran her finger over your heat again, flicking your clit gently this time.
There was slick surely running down your thighs, but you couldn't focus on that. The thought of making a mess in Abby's bed sounded amazing to you, though.
She kept going with that motion, stopping if you squirmed too much. "Abby.. fuck, I-I need it, please." You begged as she circled your clit rather roughly.
"Need what, princess?" You wanted to pretend like you were sick of the teasing, but you weren't. You liked how desperate she was making you, you wanted to beg for her to touch you. You wanted her to praise you for everything that you did right.
"Need you," you groaned.
"Atta girl," she kissed your thigh as she started dragging your underwear off. "You're doing so well, baby." Her eyes went wide as she realized actually how wet you were, basking in the idea that it was all for her.
Abby started sucking a hickey into your thigh as you whined under her, grabbing at her braid. "Abby," you pulled her up. "Take out your braid." She did as told, pulling the ponytail out and putting it around your wrist. She looked impossibly better with her blonde hair down.
After many more moments of teasing, she finally licked a strip up your cunt, making you throw your head back and groan. She sucked and flicked your clit, finding a perfect rhythm that you loved. It didn't take long for your stomach to tighten, but when she slowly pushed her middle finger into you, you knew you were gone.
She pumped it lightly, making sure you could take it, before adding her ring finger. She curled them, hitting something that was too much, but felt so good at the same time. "T-too much, Abby," I moaned, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to squirm away from her fingers. She didn't stop, though, with every pump of her fingers she hit that spot, making your head spin. "Abs, ah, I'm gonna- fuck,"
"That's it, baby. Cum on my fingers." Your back arched off the bed, and your vision went white as you did as told, coming on her fingers. It felt like hours of her coaxing you through it, but in reality it had only been a couple seconds. "You did so well, princess."
You were sure you looked blatantly unattractive, covered in sweat with your hair all messed up, but Abby was looking at you like you were the only woman in the world. Like she wanted to fuck the everlasting shit out of you.
Abby, on the other hand, looked phenomenal. You wanted to take a picture of her right now and keep it forever. Make it your wallpaper, print it, fuck yourself to it. Her hair was frizzy from you yanking on it, her eyes were dark. But probably the hottest thing was the spit that was covering her chin, and it was obviously from you, which made everything so much better.
She wiped her face on the back of her hand, then laid next to you. "I want you to ride my face, pretty girl." You sat up on your knees, looking at her with wide eyes.
"But.." you wanted to, you truly did. But you knew nothing about how to do it. "What if I suffocate you?" She shrugged.
"Worth it." She sat up, tugging you forward by your hips until you were sitting in her lap. "It's easy. You won't even have to do anything but sit. I'll do the rest." She smirked as you pushed up, moving towards her face until your cunt was right over her mouth. You were suddenly conscious of everything, wondering if she would be weirded out with anything you had going on, even though she already ate you out once.
She grabbed your hips and pulled you down, making you squeak a little. You could've sworn the world stopped when she started moving her tongue. The angle was better than when you were laying down, and you could watch her. You reached down and grabbed her hair, forcing her head up. You were moaning louder than you had ever, head back with your eyes squeezed shut.
Abby was sure she was going to pass out. Not from lack of air, but from the fact that she had an absolutely gorgeous girl on her face, whining her name and begging for her to continue everything she was doing.
Abby moved one of her hands from your hip to her belt, unclipping it single handedly, and unzipping her pants. She was going to wait, rub one off after you had already left, but she couldn't anymore. She teased herself briefly before slipping two of her fingers between her folds, bucking up into her hand.
She was moaning into your pussy, using one of her hands to rub your clit. You wished she could talk because you loved her praise, but if this is what you got in return for not talking, you were fine with it.
"I'm gonna cum, baby," you ground your hips into her face as your stomach came undone and you came for the second time. You were so exhausted, so ready to curl up in her arms and go to sleep, but at the same time, you wanted to keep going, wanted to see what she'd do to you.
She tapped your thigh a few times and you wobbled up, falling into the bed next to her. "I'm tired," You tell her, fingers tracing circles on her chest. "But I want you to tie me up." You looked up at her, putting on an innocent expression, even though your thoughts were absolutely not innocent.
Abby's eyes widened. She hasn't tied someone up since she was like 20, but she was trying to take into account that you were young and still trying to figure out what you were into. And, I mean, tying you up definitely wasn't the worst thing someone could ask for.
So she did. With rope. You loved the way it felt around your wrists, loved the way you were bound to her headboard.
Abby slid her pants off, leaving her boxers and sports bra, which both fit her phenomenally. Your stomach flipped as she grabbed the strap from her nightstand and slipped it up to her hips. She came back over you, sitting up on her knees briefly while she pushed one of your legs up so that it was pressed against your chest.
She looked up at you and you gave her a nod. She gently ran the tip of the strap across your clit and down your folds, making you shiver. “Hurry up, Abs.” You groaned, pushing your hips into the air, trying to take her.
“Patience, darling.” She pushed the tip of her strap into your cunt, and the intrusion burned a little. It was as if your body wanted to push it out and keep it in at the same time. Once you could handle that, she pushed another inch in, waiting for your okay. She went inch by inch until her cock was bottomed out, all of it stretching you open and making you feel amazing.
Abby groaned, head lolling back as the strap pressed perfectly onto her clit. She pushed your other leg up to your chest, holding it softly as she started moving, pulling out just a little before thrusting back in. She wanted to go slow for you, gentle, but she could barely stop herself from fucking into you as hard and fast as she could.
The more comfortable you got, the less easy it was to contain herself. She moved faster, watching your eyes squeeze shut as you moaned. You liked her being rough, you loved how her cock rubbed against your little bundle of nerves every time she fucked into you, everything about it.
"Gonna put a baby in you, sugar," she groaned into your neck as her head fell. "What would your daddy think of that, hm?" Your moans filled the room and the headboard slamming against the wall filled the thick air of the room.
She pushed your legs apart, pressing herself farther onto you as she started sucking hickeys into your neck. She knew she was close, but she wanted to finish with you, so she held it back for as long as she could. That didn’t work very well - she came moments later, moaning into your neck as her thrusts got sloppy. You hardly noticed, too caught up with your own satisfaction.
She kept going, every roll of her hips bring both you and herself closer to your peaks. Again. Your stomach tightened and you threw your head back, screaming her name as you came around her cock. She practically collapsed on top of you as her orgasm hit her hard and fast.
She laid on you for a second before pulling out and rolling off, taking the strap off and tossing it off the bed. “Was that everything you wanted it to be, pretty girl?” She asked, still panting as she wiped a thin layer of sweat off of her forehead.
“Even better.” You said, throwing your arm over your arms. “What do we do now?” You asked lazily, praying to god that she wouldn’t kick you out. That would be extremely embarrassing.
“All you have to do is lay there and look pretty, hun.” She purred. She could make you wet again just from her words, even though you had absolutely nothing left in you. The bed shifted as she got up, walking into the bathroom. The water ran and you sat up, watching as she came back with a cloth hand towel.
Wordlessly, she grabbed your legs and spread them, wiping you off everywhere. You hummed as the warm water washed everything off of you, relaxing into her touch. She massaged your legs and even went as far as giving you a pair of boxers and a t-shirt so that you could sleep over. “Do you do this for all the girls you have over?” You asked. Your back was pressed to her front, her arm thrown over your waist.
“Nah,” she kissed your neck. “Only you, baby. Only you.”
a/n: thanks for reading <333 requests are open
#abby anderson#abby tlou#abby the last of us#abby x reader#abby smut#breeding k1nk#overstim kink#tlou#tlou2#tlou modern au#abby x fem!reader#abby x you#abby#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x reader#maya writes
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Cold as ice
a/n I honestly hope you all will cry the way I cried writing this because now I genuinely need four to five business days to recover. Because never have I actually needed to take a minute to sob in the middle of writing.
summary: what happens when Ellie stumbles upon a memorial that turns out to have both your and Joel's kids names on it. When the past pain is brought back to the daylight even the coldest of hearts finally break.
warning: pain and suffering first and foremost, tissues ain't included. Blood, wounds, shooting, killing, multiple death, loosing your kids.
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Ellie had slipped out of the shower. She hated being separated from you and Joel. So the fact that you walked away from her, leaving her with Maria, didn't sit well with her whatsoever. You had hugged her tightly before leaving, promising to be back as soon as possible and that you three would eat dinner together as you always did.
She had gotten extremely close to you. Yet there was something in Joel's eyes when he watched you hug Ellie that told her that there was more than you two let her know. She was aware that you two had been together long before the outbreak; she assumed you were married from the bent ring that was on your finger. But besides that, she knew nothing. Well, that you could handle Joel's shit the best of anyone Ellie had met.
She had seen and heard Joel mumbling in his sleep. Watched you rub his back with a sad expression on your face. And the same went for you, just when your nightmare hit - they hit you hard. Ellie had been woken up by your screams in the middle of the night. Joel's calm voice tries to make you calm down. She had only once turned to look at all of this unfolding; most of the time she just pretended that she was fast asleep. "Don't let them, Joel", you cried, "Don't", "I'm so sorry", Joel would sway you from side to side. His own eyes glossed over with tears. "Should have let me die instead. I should have died," you choked out, clenching the shirt Joel was wearing. His face looked stone cold as you clawed at him, sobbing.
Ellie never brought those nights up. If she teased Joel for speaking in his sleep, she had never said anything about your nightmares out loud. After nights like that, she would shimmy closer to you. Making sure she would be holding onto your hand more often or just hugging you every moment she could. Ellie couldn't help the feeling inside her that told her that you needed her.
Ellie hurried down the stairs, zipping the pink jacket she despised solely because of its outrageously girly color. Maria had left the note that she was just across the street, and as much as Ellie enjoyed being alone. She needed to kill time before you two came back. Plus, being away from you made her rather uneasy. She knocked on the door a couple of times. Yet no one answered. After more failed attempts, Ellie just let herself in.
"Maria," she called out, stepping into the hallway. The house looked nice and was well lived in. Ellie had never seen anything like it. Even the smell seemed homely. She stepped into the living room, where the fire was crackling in the fireplace. Her eyes fell onto the three names written down with white chalk, surrounded by candles. Kevin, Sarah, and Malakai. Ellie couldn't help but frown.
"Ah, good, here you are. Try it on," Maria said, making Ellie jump as she turned away from the bored and took the coat from her hands. "Well, it's super fucking purple," "Eggplant, fits well?", Maria questioned, and Ellie nodded her head. "Who's been cutting your hair?", Ellie gave the woman a crooked look. "Am… world-class salons," she sassed back, making Maria let out somewhat of a chuckle. "I'll go get my sizers," Ellie argued immediately, but Maria stood firm, "Just the ends I promised."
The sound itself made Ellie cringe as she held onto the side of the chair for dear life. She hated this. Hated getting her hair cut. "I saw you looking at the memorial Tommy made", Ellie swallowed hard once Maria spoke up once again. She hoped this wouldn't be brought up, but then again, she was snooping. "I'm sorry about your kids," Ellie choked out, thankful that she didn't have to look her in the eye. Maria's movements stopped. "It's okay and kid. Just Kevin. Sarah and Malakai were Joel's and Y/N's kids", and a cold shiver ran down Ellie's back. Kids. You two had kids and lost both of them. "I'm sorry, shouldn't have said anything", "It's okay, it… It explains Joel's behavior and why Y/N…", but her voice died down. Maria didn't need to know about your nightmares.
"Look, I won't ask you what you are doing with them, especially Joel…" "Good," Ellie bit back. "You need to understand my concerns", Maria walked right in front of her, but Ellie only glared her way, "Be concerned about your husband, who did the same shit, if not worse". Maria let out a surprised sigh, "You have one hell of a mouth," and Ellie quickly stood up, shrugging off the towel that was over her shoulders, "And you are one hell of a sister-in-law if all you can do is throw shit at Joel." The adrenaline rushed through Ellie the moment the words slipped past her lips. She didn't regret them, but at the same time, she knew she shouldn't have. It was, however, too late. So she quickly stormed out of the house.
Her breathing picked up as she ran. Quickly slamming the doors behind herself. "Ellie?", your voice rang through the place, and she almost sank to the floor with relief. Like a lost animal, she darted towards the kitchen, meeting you midway as you stepped out into the hallway. Throwing her arms around your torso as she pressed herself closer to you. You couldn't help but frown as your hands ran through her hair. Confused as to what had happened, "Love, you are worrying me. What's going on?" You tried to loosen Ellie's grip on you, but she just clenched your shirt tighter.
Ellie almost felt like she suddenly couldn't face you. She shouldn't have found out like that. So she quickly stepped back and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. The worry inside you grew even more as you watched her. "Sweet girl, should I go get Joel?", you asked, but Ellie quickly shook her head, only now realizing that this involved him as much as it involved you. "Okay, well, you know you can tell me anything. I can't help if I don't know what happened," you said, softly reaching for Ellie's hand. Just this didn't feel like anything. This felt like the biggest thing ever.
"I'm sorry," Ellie rasped out, "I wasn't… I didn't want to… but they had a memorial," Ellie cried out, and suddenly it all started to make sense. You moved to wrap her up in your arms once again, "No one is blaming you; you were bound to find out eventually." You ran your hands through Ellie's hair once again. With a sigh, you clenched the necklace that hung over your chest. "You want to know the story of me and Joel?", you asked, making Ellie look up at you with mixed emotions. You nodded your head, "Well, let's make tea and sit down somewhere more comfortable." You knew that this was going to be one painful set of memories to unlock. But she deserved it. She was part of the family now.
And what a journey it had been. You met Joel in a supermarket. Where he was frantically looking for baby formula. The baby he was supporting with one hand screamed bloody murder. "Hello," you said cautiously, not wanting to startle him any further. His helpless, tired eyes snapped your way. You could tell that he most definitely hadn't slept in more than a couple of days. If not his eyes telling you that, then his overgrown and unkempt beard did. This male was a mess. "Do you mind if I", you pointed to the bundled-up baby, "You're in distress, and they feel it. Babies are sensitive to emotions", Joel's shoulders sagged; it looked like your words had finally defeated him.
"Just stand here. If you even think about doing something to hurt her…," you looked at him with a knowing smile. Trusting your blood and soul with a stranger was no joke. Especially being a newly baked parent. Plus, fathers were already way more protective. Especially of their girls. You pressed your hand to the heart, "I'll stand right here, just want to help".
Joel nodded his head. Dropping down the box of formula he was holding as he moved towards you, lowering the bundle into your hands.
Even with her face all red and screaming her little lungs out, she was so pretty. You gently rocked her in your arms, "It's okay, gorgeous girl. Why are you crying, love bug?", you cooed at her. Fingers carefully ran down her cheek as you wiped away her big tears. "Shhh, sweet girl, you've got your daddy all worried. We don't want that, do we?" The cries slowly died down, and her big, still-damp eyes stared right at you.
Joel felt like someone had sent this as a cruel joke. His wife, the mother of his child, should be doing this, not some stranger in the middle of the supermarket. "Grab the mixture on the second shelf, more to your right", your voice made Joel snap his head in your direction once again. "I assumed you were looking for a formula. So that one should do her good. Won't upset her stomach if she's also breastfed", Joel clenched his jaw at your words. No, Sarah was not. Her mother had vanished. She didn't even know what a mother was or what it would feel like to have one.
You sensed the tension. Slowly stepping closer to the male, one hand resting on his shoulder. "Don't take this as an insult because I'm sure you are an amazing father. But do you want me to pop by and help out while you rest a little?" You had an odd feeling that the mother wasn't in the picture. That he was all alone. And the baby wasn't older than a month or a bit more. If this man was juggling that alone. Well, that must have been hard.
You hummed to yourself as you fixed up a light dinner from whatever you managed to find in Joel's fridge. Considering the empty cardboard boxes all over the place, it's been a hot minute since he had a proper meal himself. Once he drove you back to his, you quickly ushered him upstairs. Telling him to take a bath and catch some sleep. You knew that he would have fought you on it. If only he wasn't running on the last bits of energy.
And you weren't snooping, but while you were cleaning up the kitchen, you found an open letter. A letter you assumed was from Joel's wife. She had left them two without anything, not even a proper explanation. You knew it wasn't your place to judge; motherhood was tough. Not all women were built to be mothers. You had written down instructions for Joel. How do fix a bottle. What different formulas do get, and how to switch them up if Sarah got an upset stomach per se. You wanted him to know that he wasn't alone. Even if you two had known each other for less than a day.
Joel stepped down the stairs hours later. Beard trimmed, eyes less puffy. He found you on the sofa reading a book to Sarah. One of her tiny fists was wrapped around your finger as your soft voice filled the room, "Why are you smiling? Am I that funny?", you cooed at her, making Sarah let out a happy grumble, "Ah, we even lost the pacifier with all the smiling, huh," you pinched her cheek carefully.
Joel was lost for words, to say the least. This was how he saw his family. This was what he hoped he would come down to with his wife. A sob that had held up for weeks, now finally escaped his lips, making you turn his way in an instant. You carefully set Sarah down before approaching him. Opening up your arms in case he needed a hug but keeping a distance in case this was overstepping his boundaries. Yet Joel did fall into your arms. He mumbled out all of his worries and questions that had been bothering him. He had no clue what he was doing. How nothing made sense to him now.
That night, and the many that followed, completely transformed you two. You had practically moved into the Millers' house. You lived not that far away, but the apartment was small, and since the job, you had only managed to cover the rent costs; you were barely getting by as it was. Joel needed someone to look after Sarah while he worked, so having you in the house solved that issue for him. But with each passing week and more, you three fell into somewhat of a routine, and you couldn't help but notice how right this all felt. You always wanted to be a young mom anyway. Sure, the baby wasn't yours, but that meant nothing to you. You cherished Sarah as if she was your blood and flesh. Joel loved that Sarah would grow up having you in her life. A true mother figure and did not doubt that as soon as his daughter learned how to talk, she would without a doubt refer to you as a mother.
Now, almost 12 years later, you still found yourself smiling every time you thought back at the time you and Joel came together, clawing through the struggles as one. "Morning", Sarah ran down the stairs, quickly coming to kiss your cheek as she moved to grab plates for everyone. "Morning, darling, is your father awake?", "Banged on the door loudly, but he's getting old wouldn't be surprised if he didn't hear", you let out a chuckle at her words. She often teased Joel about getting old. Especially now that his first gray hair had sprouted.
"Is Momo up?", Sarah asked, missing the sight of her brother in the kitchen. You turned to the living room, "Tommy is watching cartoons with him." Malakai was a surprise baby, to say the least. You and Joel weren't trying to get pregnant, but at the same time, you weren't always all that safe when it came to sex. When you feel pregnant, you generally couldn't help but have the fear of Joel walking out on you. Yes, you two had gotten engaged not that long ago, but the conversation of having kids together was never a thing.
Yet Joel didn't do anything but cry once you told him. He wrapped you up in his arms as you two swayed in the kitchen at two in the morning, where you had waited for him to return from his shift. "Tell me again; I still can't believe it," he muttered into your ear for what felt like a thousand times, "I am pregnant with your baby." Joel shook his head still, "Baby Miller..", he let out a breathy laugh. Hands coming to hold his head. With you? A baby with you? The most amazing woman on this earth. He surely didn't deserve it, but he was more than grateful for it.
"I know we might get tight on money. I do want to work till I get too big..", you blurred out, letting your biggest worries out. Joel quickly cupped your face, "Don't you worry your cute head about that. I will take more shifts, and we will be fine", yet you still frowned at him. You didn't want him to work any more than he already did. It felt wrong to let him carry the income burden on his own. "I can still work", "I will only agree to that if you are feeling one thousand percent sure that you can do that. I would much more prefer you stayed at home." You did figure it all out, as you always did. Sarah was over the moon to get a sibling, and now more than ever, this felt like a family.
Joel hurried down the stairs just as Sarah came back with Malakai in her arms. Your husband quickly leaned in to kiss you as he grabbed a cup of coffee. "Birth-a", Malakai clapped. Sarah leaned in to whisper something into his ear once again. "Daddy Old," he said happily, making you let out a laugh, especially when that proud smirk painted Sarah's face. Joel shook his head, "I'll send Cooky Monster after you two. Come here and hug me, you crazy bunch." Watching your kids wrapped up in Joel's strong arms always made you feel some type of way. He was the best father a child could ask for.
"No pancakes?", Sarah grumbled as she looked at the scrambled eggs in front of her, "Frown at your father, he forgot to buy it". It was a tradition to have pancakes on birthday mornings. One that all four of you took very seriously. But with the job load only getting bigger, you couldn't blame Joel for forgetting to get it. "Will we at least get the cake?", "I'll buy one on my way home, I promise," Joel said, scuffing down the egg. Sleeping in meant more rushing, especially when he still needed to drop Sarah off at school.
"Good cause it would be a shit birthday if we didn't at least get that", she said in frustration, "Language young lady", you nudged her shoulder. "Your shirt is insane out, handsome", you pointed your fork Joel's way as he dropped the empty plate in the sink. "No, it is not," he argued, looking down, "Dad, you are seriously getting old," Joel grumbled while taking off his shirt. You moved to feed Malikai, trying to hide your smile.
"You and I, tonight after the kids are asleep. I have special plans with you", Joel cupped your face, leaning in to kiss you a couple of times. "Gross!", Sarah shouted from the hallway, making you two laugh. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Miller", you packed his lips one more time. God, was letting go of this man hard. "I know what I am still capable of," Joel teased back, making you raise your eyebrows, " I'll be the judge of that tonight, sir."
You three had already eaten dinner. Malakai had been sleeping on your chest for quite some time. Sarah dozed off slightly as you waited for Joel to come home. He was late. That, of course, upset Sarah. You wished it was different. That she would see more of him. You hoped that now that you had landed a pretty good job deal, you could balance it out. That Joel could be home more often, and the kids wouldn't have to miss him that much.
The sound of the keys jingling made you stir as you noticed Joel walking into the living room. He was tired, as always. Sarah stirred from beside you. "You're so late," she mumbled, leaning more into you as you ran a hand through her hair. "I know, baby girl; I'm so sorry." Joel kneeled in front of her, carefully tickling her side in hopes to make the grumpy go away. "Did you at least get the cake?", Joel cursed under his breath. All the way home, he knew he had forgotten something, but it only hit him now. "Are you for real, dad?", "I promise I'll get the biggest cake I can get for you all tomorrow."
Sarah looked up at him, letting out a sigh as she reached to wrap her hands around her father's neck. Joel pressed her close to his chest, holding her just a tad harder than most evenings. "I got you something but it's upstairs", she said rubbing her sleepy eyes. Once she had disappeared from the room, you turned to Joel. "I'm so sorry for messing it up," he muttered, sitting down next to you. "Jokes on you, you messed your birthday up." You leaned closer to him. Malakai grumbled in his sleep, his eyes opening for a moment. The sight of his father finally being home made him reach for Joel. He instantly scooped the boy up, pressing a loving kiss to the top of his curly hair as he rocked him a couple of times. Malakai eased into sleep immediately. And you weren't too surprised about it—the warmth Joel carried was enough to make anyone fall asleep within seconds.
"Open up," Sarah said as she handed Joel a box. He shook it a couple of times, trying to inspect it without seeing it. "I know it was laying in your drawer for some time now", "Where did you get the money for it?", Joel looked at the old watch that he had to give up on years ago. "Drugs," Sarah said casually, making you let out a laugh that Joel joined soon after. "I think you got mugged, though it's not ticking." Joel pushed the watch to his ear, and Sarah's face paled as she moved to grab it out of her father's hands. The sound of ticking filled her ears, making her roll her eyes and say, "Not funny, dad."
You moved to wrap your arms around her, dragging her onto the bed with you. She would be sandwiched between you and Joel. "How about a movie, and then I'll tuck my two gremlins into bed", Sarah playfully hit Joel's chest, "Mom, will fall asleep within minutes", she turned to watch you already almost dozing off. "I won't say I won't, but I'm giving you ten minutes, and you will be out as well", you hugged her closer, eyes falling onto Joel who looked down on you two fondly.
"If I knew what was going to happen that night… I would", your voice died down, "I don't even know what I would have changed, but I wish I could go back, you know? To try to do something differently", Ellie looked at you. If you had let yourself smile a little at the thought of the happy memories she knew that now was the time when the real shit was going to go down. Ellie inched closer to you. Leaving her cup on the table as she took a hold of your hand once again.
"I have four civilians by the river," the male said sharply into the radio. "Joel," you whispered, pressing Momo closer to your chest as your breathing picked up. Joel wished he could reach for you and hold you close as well, but he knew that now that was impossible. "We'll be okay, love. All of us will be okay," Joel whispered, his eyes not leaving the soldier in front of him. "Uncle Tommy," Sarah whispered, looking between you and Joel. "We'll get you two and mommy somewhere safe, and I'll go back to look for him," Joel said as calmly as he could, pressing Sarah even closer to him.
The soldier lifted the gun, making you shake your head. "We're not sick", Joel managed to say before the shots rang out. Everything that happened after that was a blur and a slow-motion movie at the same time. The fall off the curb. The cries from Malakai rang out even louder than the bullets. You fell right beside Joel, your hands clinging to the boy and pressing him closer to you. The light from the gun made you close your eyes once again. "I'm sorry", you heard the soldier rasp out, "No, please", Joel exhaled, moving as quickly as he could to shield your body with his own as yet another shot fired. Joel's hand pressed down onto you tightly, not even letting go when the sound around him died down.
"Oh god", Tommy's voice made Joel lift his head, turning his attention to where his younger brother was looking. And there was Sarah. Her breaths were shallow as she pressed down on her side, which was bleeding heavily. Joel felt as if his world stopped for a moment as he crowed towards her. "No… no," Joel breathed out, "You're okay, baby girl, you're okay." His eyes fell on the wound that was pouring out bright red blood. "Sarah", you called out, inching towards her, gasp leaving your mouth as you saw just how bad it was. Joel tried to move her up, but Sarah only screamed out in pain, "I know, baby, I know. I need to help you up."
Joel's eyes were on you as you sobbed by Sarah's side. Hands were now just as soaked as his with sticky blood. Joel looked at Tommy, who was holding Malakai, then back to Sarah, who was gulping down air. He couldn't let his baby die. Not here. Not now. Not his little girl. Not his butterfly. Joel pressed his palms to the shot wound harder, making Sarah roar in agony, "I know it hurts, but you will be okay". You brushed your hand over the side of her face, not trusting your words anymore.
"Tommy, help me!", Joel shouted, but once he turned his attention back to his brother, his breathing stopped. Your eyes followed Joel's gaze. Eyes grew wide at the sight of Tommy standing there with a gun pointed at his head. Malakai being dragged away by another soldier. You quickly rose to your feet. "Give me my boy!", you shouted. No longer sounding like yourself. More like a wild animal out for blood.
"That's a child. Are you going to kill a child?", you stepped closer, but only got met with the back of the gun hitting your back, making you fall back to the ground. "Please, please, I'll do anything," you croaked out, pulling yourself up as you watched the soldier stop in its tracks. The boy in his arms reached out to you as he cried. The soldier let go of Malakai, and for a split second, a rush of hope flowed through you. He was going to come back to you. Your baby boy was going to be okay.
You reached your hands towards him as he took wobbly steps towards you. "Come here, baby, come here, Momo," you called out, barely being able to see through the tears streaming down your cheeks. "Mama," he cried out, making you nod your head. And then the shot rang out. The sound that you knew was going to hunt you for the rest of your life. You saw the bullet pierce Malakai's head as his body sagged to the floor.
The scream that fell from you was far from human. The pain that pierced you was as outrageous. You quickly moved forward, ready to kill the man who had just killed both of your kids cold-heartedly. You didn't make it far as two hands quickly pulled you over to the side. Turning you away from the lifeless body of the toddler.
Joel knew he had to get to you before you joined the kids on the ground. He held onto you for dear life as you trashed in his hands, "I will fucking kill you, do you hear me? I will rip you to pieces, you fuck," you screamed, trying to get loose and out of Joel's embrace. "Let go of me, let me kill him," you spat, nails digging into Joel's arms as you tried to push them away. "I've got you; you need to breathe." His words made you stop. You looked him in the eyes for the first time that night. Another sob escaped your lips as you sank to the floor, hands ripping at the skin of your chest, "Kill me, let me die, I don't want to live", your words were broken in between harsh intakes of breath. Joel shook his head once again, wrapping his arms around you, "I need you, please, I need you".
The sound of the door closing made you jump. You had no clue when you finished telling the story. You don't remember zoning out. Ellie was still holding your hands, her own eyes puffy from crying. Joel stopped in his tracks. The sight of him was not something he imagined coming home to. Your face was pale. Streaks of tears are still visible on your cheeks. Ellie didn't look any better. "What happened?", Joel quickly closed the distance between you. "Did someone hurt you? Are you hurt?", he took a hold of your trembling hand before turning to Ellie. "I…", she started, but the world failed her. The panic inside Joel only grew.
"Ellie found out about Sarah and Momo," you whispered, closing your eyes in hopes to stop the tears from falling once again. To the sound of the names, Joel's jaw clenched as he sat down on the table that was behind him. "I'm so sorry. I just saw the memorial." Joel only shook his head. "I swear I didn't", "Ellie," Joel said firmly, making her stop.
He knew this day would come. He might be half deaf, but he wasn't blind. Joel knew that Ellie was up most nights when you would scream. And was quite surprised that she hadn't yet brought this up in any way. But then again, she wasn't a stupid girl; she knew her boundaries. You rose to your feet, and Joel was quick to steady you, yet you brushed his touch away. "I need some fresh air", "I'll come with you", Joel insisted, but you shook your head, "I want to be alone for a moment". He was going to fight that choice, but by now he had grown to understand that in moments like this, letting yourself feel it out alone, at least at the beginning, was the best option.
Ellie couldn't bring herself to look at Joel as she fidgeted with her fingers, "I didn't mean to…", "I thought I was going to lose her after it all", Joel's words took Ellie by surprise. She quickly turned her gaze toward him. Joel was staring blankly at the wall in front of him. "She did everything she could to die. I didn't sleep; I couldn't. Was too afraid that I would miss something, won't be able to stop her", he exhaled sharply, hands coming over his face for a second.
"You had the biggest impact on Y/N. I saw her smiling for the first time in twenty years when you came by", Joel shook his head. Ellie couldn't utter a single word as he continued to stare at him. "I never meant to hurt you," "You never did. I feel the safest with you. I love you both as my parents. You have been the closest thing to a family that I've ever had," Ellie blurted out quickly. Joel turned to her, his eyes glistening with tears. "I won't let anyone hurt you," Joel whispered, clenching his jaw. Ellie fell into his arms, wrapping herself around his torso. "I know because you've never let anyone down, and you're not about to start doing that now."
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#the last of us imagine#the last of us reader#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal imagine
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౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ we fell in love in october
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: fluff, kissing, swearing, friends to lover
word count: 1.9k
a/n: hiii everyoneee. i literally just realised i reached 1.4k, thats fucking insane, thank you so so much. i love this request, had a lot of fun, thank you!!!
this is based off this request!
౨ৎ
Matt was walking beside you up to your house. You had just been driving around the area, talking about all sorts of topics. From high school to work to your personal lives.
“Thanks for walking me home, Matt. It was nice spending time with you today,” you smiled sincerely, pulling him in for a hug as you reached your front porch.
“It’s my pleasure. I had a lot of fun as well,” he chuckled, bringing his arms around your waist to pull you closer. A bit too close for people who consider themselves ‘just friends’. You pulled away with a bright smile, letting your hand linger on the back of his neck for just a moment.
“You look nice tonight, by the way. I think I kinda forgot to tell you, but I really like that dress,” he laughed nervously, scratching his head. You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, the single compliment making your cheeks turn a faint pink color.
“Thank you! It’s uh- It’s new actually.” you looked down on yourself, tugging at the end of the floral dress you were wearing. “You look great too,” you nodded with a shy smile, pointing to him.
Matt couldn’t stop smiling. He simply just found you adorable to say the least.
"Thanks,” he beamed, looking back up from your dress to meet your eyes. “Well uh- I should go, it’s getting late. I’ll see you soon, okay?” he smiled, taking a tiny step backwards.
“Yeah, I’ll see you soon. Goodnight, Matt.” you waved, also taking a small step back, trying not to trip over the stairs right behind you.
-
The old door to your house creaked as you pushed it open. You were kind of tired from hanging out with Matt all day, not that it had anything to do with him. It was just getting late.
You had gone shopping, had lunch, fed ducks at the lake, went for a late night drive, and overall just enjoyed each other's company.
Matt had been your best friend since forever. You met somewhere during junior year in high school, and after that you hadn’t been seen separately. After a few months into senior year you realized you had developed a tiny crush on Matt. That didn’t change though. You were still in love with him to this day.
Matt and his brothers started a YouTube career, and you found a job in a bakery that also sold all kinds of flowers. Because of that, you always had a few bouquets standing around and outside your home, the color and type of flower changing depending on the season and vibe you wanted to go for.
For the past week you had white heliotrope.
You placed your phone and keys on your kitchen counter, slipping out of your coat and shoes after having been out in the chilly weather all day.
A small vibration came from your phone, the screen lighting up. It was a message from Matt.
‘Can I come over tomorrow?’ it read. Matt always wanted to be around you, specifically in your house. He almost loved it more than you did. You quickly picked up the phone, positioning yourself on the kitchen counter to answer him immediately with a
‘Yes, of course :) We can watch that movie you were talking about if you want’.
‘Yeah, I’d love that. See you tomorrow then!’
You smiled to yourself, turning off your phone as you got down from the counter.
The small house you lived in was quite cozy. There wasn’t much electrical light, most of it being from either the fireplace or the candles you had propped up everywhere, or a lamp that had the same orange light as the candles. You paced around, lighting each and every candle that was in the kitchen and living room, creating a soft orange-like light. On top of that, the faint smell of cinnamon and apple made it even better. It wasn’t too artificial of a smell, not making people literally gag when they walked in. Matt seemed to like it a lot.
-
The next morning you woke up to the sunlight through your gingham curtain. Your friends found the curtains absolutely horrible, but you liked the vibe of the red and white. It just suited the rest of your interior.
Your phone had a message from Matt, asking if it was okay to come over around 8, since he was filming a video with his brothers. You replied with a ‘Yes, that’s perfect’, making your way downstairs to make breakfast.
-
At around 7.30pm you still had no idea what to put on. Not that it mattered, Matt had seen you in all sorts of situations, but it was something you relied a lot on.
You settled on something cozy but casual, knowing you were gonna watch a movie, so jeans would probably get uncomfortable. The makeup you had put on a few hours ago needed a touch up, as well as your hair.
That took you just the right amount of time, because right as you went downstairs to light the candles, there was a knock on the door. You rushed up to it, looking at your hair in the mirror before opening the door, revealing Matt.
“Hi, Matt! Come on in!” you smiled, opening the door further for him to get inside. You could swear he was lingering his gaze just a little too long on you, but you were pulled out of your thoughts when Matt leaned in to hug you.
“Hey, thanks for letting me come over, you know how much I love your place,” he smiled, letting you go as he took off his jacket. You just smiled back in return, making your way to the kitchen.
“So uh- Do you want to bake some cookies before starting the movie?” you smiled shyly, holding up a bowl in front of you.
His face lit up, and you took that as a yes.
-
After way too long, the cookies were finally done. With that being said, it took you a few throws of flour, way too many jokes, a shit ton of chocolate chips eaten from the bag, and a bunch of laughter.
“Oh my god, they look fucking delicious,” you smiled, pressing your nose up against the oven to get a look on the cookies.
“Really? Let me see, move,” he giggled, pushing you gently to the side with his hands on each side of your waist. Your face turned beet red, avoiding looking him up in the eyes, only erupting a quiet chuckle.
“Oh yeah, you’re right. I think we did an amazing job,” he raised his brows, letting one hand go of you to reach out for a high-five.
-
“Wait, was it this one? Friday the 13th, the 2009 one?” you asked, scrolling through the insane amount of horror movies on Netflix. Matt nodded with a hum, his mouth too filled with cookies to answer you verbally. You pressed start, leaning back against the headboard of your bed. Matt wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer under the stupid amount of blankets, making you smile to yourself.
The window to your room was open, letting a view of a beautiful, now orange, tree standing in your backyard show. Matt had helped you light a few candles, the usual cinnamon-apple ones. Your normally neat bed was now completely messy, a duvet, blankets, and pillows resting everywhere.
Matt’s heart was practically beating out of his chest. He, too, had always had the biggest, fattest crush on you. Even holding you this close made his head spin. You were caught up with the start of the movie, but Matt sure as hell wasn’t. Even though he seemed relaxed enough to you, he was tense, trying to think of anything else but you, but it seemed far from possible to him. He needed to do something.
About 40 minutes into the movie, he turned body to you.
“Hey- uh. Can I just tell you something really quick?” he stuttered, positioning his body so he was facing you. You nodded, taking the cup of tea from your lips to place it on your nightstand.
“Sure, what’s up?” you smiled back at him, letting your eyes wander from his hair to his eyes, now rosy cheeks and lips, taking in all his features.
“It’s just- I’m sorry if this is sudden I just-” he stopped, sighing as he couldn’t seem to get the words out.
“I really like you. Not just as a friend, I really really want to take you out. Fuck, you know, I like you like you,” he giggled, the words were flying out of his words. Your eyes were wide, lips slightly parted from the sudden confession.
“I’m in love with you, and I just wanted to let you know.” he finally stopped speaking, allowing you to speak as well.
“You have got to be kidding me. Oh my God, I-” you started laughing. Matt was slightly confused.
“What? Sorry, did I say something wrong? I’m sorry, it’s totally fine if you don’t like me back, I just thought-” you cut him off, pressing your lips to his. Quickly, you pulled back to watch his reaction.
You simply couldn’t stop yourself from giggling nervously, cheeks turning completely red. He didn’t say anything, he just simply stared in disbelief.
“Why did you stop?” he whispered, his eyes lingering on your lips. His hands found his way to the back of your neck, lacing his fingers through your hair.
“Sorry, I don’t know. It just seemed surreal for a second,” you laughed, placing a hand on his cheek. With that, he pulled you closer by your neck, sealing his lips with yours once again. This time, he was not ready to pull back anytime soon.
His hands roamed around the back of your head, holding your head as close as possible. He had been waiting for you for years. Your hands were on him as well. One cupping his cheek, the other resting on his shoulder. It took you a minute to pull back, simply craving air.
You looked up at him, a goofy smile appearing on both your faces while you both panted.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve stopped myself from doing that,” Matt admitted, keeping your hands on each other.
“Me too. I think I figured out I liked you during an English class. I literally sprinted home to write all my overthinking down in my diary,” you giggled, leaning closer into him to hug him.
He immediately melted into your touch, resting his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your sweet scent. The one he never got tired of.
“Can you kiss me again? I’m not wasting one minute after waiting for this long,” he chuckled, cupping your face with both of his hands.
“Matt, you don’t have to ask, just do it,” you laughed at his adorable question, but you gave in anyway, leaning up once more to kiss him from his cheek to finally seal the distance between your lips again.
And that’s basically how the night went. Movie still playing in the background, nearing the end, Matt leaning over you, leaving kisses on the sides of your face, forehead, cheeks, lips, neck, collarbone, any place imaginable. The candles were about to burn out, your cup of tea getting cold from not being drinked in the past 30 minutes.
To no one's surprise, he ended up staying over for the rest of the night.
a/n: stop why am i literally craving fall right now. wheres the rest of the "i hate summer" people at.
taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn let me know if you'd like to be added!
#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#Spotify
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CAN U WRITE FOR SUKUNA IM BEGGING HJFJFJRR
Never Lose Me
you knew sukuna would kill you if he knew where you were right now, but you didn't care. you had it in your airy little head that he was a cheater because of what one of your 'homegirls' told you.
it all started when you were in your shared apartment laid on the bed scrolling through instagram waiting for 'kuna to come home when your 'friend' sent you a picture of him hugging this girl.
you never were the smartest, so you never second-guessed the photo. you on the other hand immediately broke down into tears. sukuna never liked her and always suggested you get better friends for a reason.
he always got weird vibes from her because she continuously tried to make passes at him whenever you weren't around.
you could only imagine your boyfriend's surprise to get drunken texts and voicemails of you telling him to 'go fuck himself' and how you 'don't need him'.
my supersoaker🫶🏼💞: [ forwarded an image ]
my supersoaker🫶🏼💞: nigga FUCJ you
my supersoaker🫶🏼💞: i thoguth we had somethgin anf you trwest me like thid??? i hste you!
hubby💝: ??? baby? who sent you that???
hubby💝: and are you at the fucking club??
you stared at your phone through teary eyes as you blocked his number and turned off location sharing. you shoved your phone into your purse and continued drinking your feelings away.
sukuna had been watching from across the bar for probably 20 minutes now. he watched you flirting with the guy you were talking to for maybe the same amount of time. he studied the way you held onto his arm and laughed at all his jokes. it made his blood boil.
“what do you say we take this a step further hm?~” his hand slipped up your thigh and you giggled when he started nibbling on your neck.
“nah fuck this.” your boyfriend slammed his drink on the counter and stormed towards you, angrily shoving people out of the way but he didn't care. his main focus was you.
he didn't say anything as he heaved you over the shoulder like a sandbag, ignoring your protests and the weird looks he got as he exited the bar. he practically threw you in the passenger's seat and locked the door.
the car ride to his house was dead silent. except for your protests and complaints about your boyfriend's behavior.
“Bitch why the fuck did you do all that for?” you stared at him with your arms crossed over your chest in annoyance, glaring at him for an answer that never came.
the rest of the ride was just you looking out the window and light curses underneath your breath of “cheating ass”, “hoe ass”, “worthless ass”.
once you got home, sukuna parked the car and dragged you into his house with a tight grip on your arm.
he walked into his bedroom and threw you down on the bed before locking the door. then sukuna finally spoke after what was hours after not speaking.
“you gonna explain your sudden little tantrum or do i have to fuck the attitude outta you first?”
sukuna chuckled when you still had your arms crossed over your chest, not looking in his direction. your eyes were puffy as you let out little hiccups and sniffles. you were still mad at him for spoiling your fun. how cute.
just then he harshly gripped your chin forcing you to look at him. “it’s really rude to not look people in the eyes when they’re talking to you.”
his hands traveled down to your neck and he squeezed it tightly, you felt a breathy chuckle in your ear before he began to speak.
“so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh ma?”
it was about 20 minutes later and your brain was so foggy to the point where you couldn’t remember how you got into this position.
your boyfriend had you on all fours, one of his hands pulling your hair back into a makeshift ponytail, the other wrapped around your neck pulling your head back to whisper the most disgusting things into your ear.
“you think what you said t’me was nice? you thought it was funny to send me those voicemails and texts while i was working? huh? y’had me worrying my ass off you dumb. fucking. bitch.”
he emphasized those last three words with harsh thrusts, before pulling your head back to tap his fingers at the side of your cheek. “open.” he mumbled before spitting roughly in your mouth. “swallow all that shit.” he spat before shoving your face back into the pillow before you.
he took this time to analyze how small your figure was compared to his. you were so much smaller… so vulnerable… so much easier to manhandle.
sukuna decided to tease you. fucking you slowly, working every inch of his thick cock into your little hole as slowly as he could. he wanted you to memorize every vein and inch. he wanted to make sure you never forget tonight and you should never disobey him ever again.
“wouldn’t have to be this way if you were just a good little girl who followed the rules. tsk.” this had been going on for hours now. the rough fucking, the degradation, even after what? 4 orgasms? he still hasnt had his. you figured out by now that this wasn’t a punishment… he wanted to torture you.
“p-pleasee ryo.. i’m- haa~ s-sorry! wan’ you t’fill me up. please!” he chuckled darkly. “ y’want me to fill you up? huh?” “please! hnghh- m’sorry!” “you never did have any shame did ya hun?”
sukuna’s thrusts began to get sloppier as he was nearing his release. you whimpered for him to slow down as your tear stained face was pressed into the pillow. his balls slapping against your clit with each harsh thrust.
“i won’t f-fuck- i wont slow down. you’re grown right? if you can go to the bar on your own then you can take this shit like a big girl too. right?”
before you knew it hot ropes of cum start spurting out filling your tight cunt. your boyfriend’s thrusts began to slow down until they came to a complete stop.
he slowly pulled out of you, replacing his cock with his fingers to keep his seed in. humming lowly before getting up to get some towels from the bathroom.
you woke up the next morning in his shirt. you tried to get up before feeling an immense pain in your back. you groaned before you felt a large hand rubbing at the small of your back.
“y’wanna talk about your feeling now? if you don’t want too then we can always go for round two. i still have some energy left over.” he smirked down at you.
“this was supposed t’be a surprise but… the girl i was hugging in the picture you sent wasn’t anybody baby. remember when we were apartment shopping and you mentioned you really wanted the one in shibuya?”
you nodded as sukuna pushed some of your hair behind your ear to see your face better.
“it’s ours now.” sukuna thought that nothing could compare to your smile in that very moment as you hugged and peppered kisses across his face while murmuring little ‘thank yous’ in his ear.
“yeah, yeah.” he chuckled and hugged you back. “you could never lose me that easily.”
a/n: thank you so much for this request anon!!! it took me a little while but i really enjoyed writing it. hope you enjoy!! </3!!
© strawbrryval, 2024. do not copy, steal, or repost my content without permission.
#≡; ꒰ ° val's works ꒱#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#fem reader#original character#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk sukuna#thanks anon!#send anons#<𝟑 —— asks !!#anon ask#anonymous#black reader#bimbo reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen au#jujutsu kaisen anime#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#chubby reader#anon <3#sukuna ryomen smut#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#jjk ryomen#ryomen x reader
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── ★ ˙ princess? whore ̟ !!
note ✧.* written after copious amounts of convos with rhi about step-dad leon. i live and breathe for stepcest. my world makes no sense and then stepcest is there to guide it back on track. anyways i hope this kickstarts more revil asks especially leon bc i love that man to death.
pairing ✧.* leon s. kennedy x reader
cw ✧.* reader is of age and in college, step-dad!leon, stepcest, age difference, kinda voyeurism, groping, pussy slapping, squirting, clit rubbing, overstim, mocking, daddy kink, literal wedgie, spanking, multiple orgasms, doggy style, rough sex, name-calling, general degrading
taglist ✧.* @kissingrhi @cemeteryry
synopsis ✧.* your step-dad finds you in your room with a boy's hand up your skirt and decides to teach you a lesson.
the second leon pulls up in the driveway and sees an unfamiliar car parked in his usual spot, he knows something is wrong. very wrong. so wrong that a shitty feeling settles in the pit of his stomach, causing him to frown. someone in his house when you're supposed to be home alone only spells out trouble.
so naturally, he goes and investigates. doesn't call your name when he walks in like he usually does. something tells him not to. the door closes quietly. he kicks off his shoes — per your mother's request to keep the floors clean — and pads upstairs. to his surprise, your door is cracked slightly open. it's usually closed. this is weird, and once again, he just gets an icky feeling that something is wrong.
conveniently, the space between the door and its frame leaves enough room for leon to peer inside without having to open it any wider. and that's where he finds the source of that nasty feeling disturbing him. some boy, who looks to be about your age, has both of his hands under your shirt. from the way the imprint of his hands underneath the fabric looks, he's groping you harshly. no method, just pure lust and hunger. but, like the needy slut leon pegs you for, you're gripping the sheets of your lacy white duvet, moaning quietly.
"you like that?" the guy asks you, pulling his hands out to pinch a nipple that earns a yelp from you.
"mhm," you murmur, drawing out an 'ooh' with your mouth in the shape of an 'o.'
god fucking dammit. the way you moan always goes straight to leon's cock. apart of him says to just walk away and leave you alone. that is, until this boy's lips meet your own and his hand glides up one of your spread thighs to reach under your skirt. that's when leon's had enough. no one gets to touch you down there except for him.
all respect of privacy goes out the window when leon swings the door open so hard it slams into the wall. "get your hands off of her," he says, voice low and threatening.
automatically, your legs snap shut and the guy's arm retracts, looking very fearful of leon. but he has the audacity to ask, "who the fuck are you?"
"who the fuck are you?" leon spits, "in my home, with your hands on my daughter. get out of my house."
the guy sighs, defeated. he turns to you, who's looking quite pale yourself, and says "i'll see you in class."
leon follows the guy out to the hallway, stands over the bannister and watches him close the door behind him. he can feel your eyes on him, and when he turns to face you, they're glossy with tears. "'m sorry, daddy. i can explain—"
but leon's too pissed to hear your whiny excuses. "no. i don't wanna hear it."
he walks over to you. nice and slow to keep you on the edge of suspense as he tells you, "you're a fucking whore, you know that? couldn't wait til daddy came home to get fucked? you had to bring some boytoy in here to do the job for me. and then what? did you expect him to do it better than me?"
"n-no." a tear slips down your cheek. "no, we've just been talking for awhile and—"
he holds a hand up to silence you. "what did i just say? i don't give a fuck about your excuses."
you sniffle, more tears fall from your eyes. "daddy, 'm sorry. won't do it again, i promise."
he tsks at that. "you're really good at that, you know. repeating one phrase, my dumb little broken record." and then he mocks your voice by going up a few pitches, "daddy, daddy, daddy."
you sob, "stop it..."
leon ignored you and sits back on the bed, rests against your plushie of a duck that's fat enough to be used as a pillow. kiiroitori? who gives a fuck, he doesn't care. you turn around and watch him. spreading his legs to make room for you in the middle, he makes a face that suggests resting there is the most obvious thing in the world and pats the area.
you climb over to the place between his legs with another sniffle and assume correctly that he wants you to lay back against his chest. leon pushes the folds of your skirt up to rest on your tummy, not bothering to take it off and making no moves to take off your panties. he snakes his hand down to your panties. he can't see which one it is — your skirt's in the way, blocking his view — but he gets a feel around it and he can tell which one it is just by the itchy fabric. it's your pretty white, lace thong with flowers embroidered as the pattern. he knows you wear it to impress him even though they're "uncomfy" — in your words. it makes his blood boil to think you wore them for that guy. this asshole who doesn't deserve what leon's doing to you right now.
jealousy gets the better of him. he bunches up your panties and pulls real hard, the fabric getting smushed between your lips in a wedgie. "daddy," you whine desperately, drawing out the word.
"mhm, keep fuckin' talking," he says like he's bored. you keep whining and he keeps tugging, and eventually it feels good. the burn of the fabric scratching you down there is honestly better than you could imagine. but with one last, long tug, he lets it snap against you, causing you to involuntarily close your legs and fall to your side on his lower abdomen. your reaction is what shocks him.
"does my little girl like it when daddy hurts her cunt? you wanna be abused down there, huh?" he asks with a smile that you unfortunately can't see, but there's delight evident in his voice.
you're breathing heavily through your nose, trying to compose yourself by wriggling back in the center of his legs. impulsively, leon brings his hand down to smack your pussy. you yelp, closing your legs around his hand. but with a strong grip, he situates your legs so they rest on the outside of his, leaving you nice and open for him. he smacks you again, hitting your clit with precision, but mainly just with a large hand that knows the area all to well.
he smacks you over and over and over. you cry and jolt and whimper with every hit landed onto your poor cunt but he doesn't let up for even a moment. your incessant whining only encourages him more. you can feel your wetness pooling, molding your panties to become one with your pussy.
and then, with a particularly rough hit, you're cumming — no, squirting — through your panties. soaking the fabric, the sheets below you, his hand, and babbling incoherent words such as "oh my god" and "daddy" and "please." he goes harder and increases in speed to induce more of your cum insatiably.
"there you go, there you fuckin' go. just let it all out, yeah? you needy slut," he eggs you on, making you moan and flush at his words alone.
when you've come down from your high is when leon pulls your panties to the side and begins to circle around your sensitive clit. "daddy," you whimper quietly. "no more. please."
"shut the fuck up," he says calmly. "you wanted to get fucked so badly so i'm giving you what you want, the right way."
you didn't say anything after that, instead just flush impossibly deeper. he rubs your clit side to side. picks up his pace over time. he wonders if you can squirt again, but cumming for him twice is enough. you're biting your lip while you moan, squeezing your eye shut, shaking your legs. to no avail, there's just no getting away from his hand. you're trapped here, in this absolute mind fuck of a situation. literally.
you don't end up squirting for him again, but you do cum. he collects the wetness that gathers at your weeping hole and sticks his middle finger in your mouth, sloppy and wet from dipping it inside of you. you taste yourself, that taste leon knows he can't get enough of. he wants to taste you right now, directly from the source, but you don't deserve that right now. for now, you're just a needy slut who tried to fuck some other guy, invited him into your bedroom willingly, almost let his hand up your skirt, and the thought just makes leon seethe, earning just one more slap to your clit. you cry out in surprise, a delicious sound that he basks in; he'll never get tired of it.
"get up and bend over at the foot of the bed so i can fuck you," he whispers in your ear. on shaky legs, you get up and do what he says. pulling up your skirt isn't necessary as it rides up to give him perfect, easy access.
he rubs the fat head of his cock up and down your slit. "think you deserve it?" he asks tauntingly.
you only sniffle and push backwards, desperately attempting to slip his cock inside you yourself. "uh-uh. i asked you a question."
"no," you say, sniffling again. "i don't deserve it."
"good girl. exactly what i wanted to hear," he says and slips it in. once he's bottomed out inside of you, he leans down to tuck a strand behind your ear and whisper, "bet you wanted to be taken like a princess on your princess bed, huh? wanted to be his little pillow princess, sitting back while he does all the work. but you deserve to get fucked like a whore by your daddy. i'm the only one who should be fucking you."
"ohh," you moan, completely at a loss for words. how the fuck do you even respond to that.
with that, he starts thrusting. he doesn't slam into you in fast strokes, but every time he fucks into you he bottoms out. buries into you to the hilt, just how you like it. just like how he rubbed your clit, he eventually picks up the pace.
the sound of his torso hitting your ass only adds to the noise. the bed rocks, not as violent as the way he's hitting it right now, but enough to creak. there's also the noises of your slick sliding against his dick, swallowing him and elongating every time thrusts back in. you're moaning and whimpering wildly, matching the sounds of his grunts and his dirty talk, muttering almost nonsense. you can pick up the words "slut" and "whore" though.
"tell me you're mine and you'll get to cum," he tells you.
your face burns in humiliation. "i'm yours, daddy."
"are you going to bring another boy in my house?"
"n-no, won't ever happen again. i — ah — promise."
he nestles himself inside of you, kissing your cervix. rubs your clit nice and fast, side to side just like before. you babble "i'm yours" and "only yours" and "daddy" over and over as if it's a prayer as you cum around his cock. you clench so deliciously. he pulls out and shoots his load on your back. slaps your ass with his dick and then his hand for good measure.
once you gain composure, you sit up on the bed, pupils dialated, look at him with doe eyes. "'m really sorry, daddy. never meant to hurt you."
"what-the-fuck-ever," he sighs and walks out the room. he needs a beer and smoke.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy#re4 leon#re4 remake#re2 remake#resident evil 2#leon kennedy resident evil#reader insert#pls send leon stuff i need him so bad#resident evil
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WARMING UP | (l.norris)
summary: you come home from a shopping trip and Lando warms you up
wordcount: 1k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: none!
notes: Y/N is friends with Charlotte Síne
advent calendar
”Lando? You home?“
You were coming back from a shopping trip with Charlotte, even after Charles and her broke up, you two stayed good friends. And with you living in Monaco, because Lando and you moved here a few years ago, and most of your friends in different countries, you were glad to have a friend near you.
You just came into the hallway and yelled out for Lando, it was freezing in Monaco, and you forgot to put on your gloves, your shoes also weren’t the best ones to keep you warm, you kept looking out for new ones, but you haven’t found the perfect pair yet. With still your bags in your hands you yelled out for Lando one more time. ”Lando?“
He also didn’t answer, you wondered where he could be, so you put the bags on the ground, grabbed your phone out of your purse, and checked his ’Find My‘ status, you two had the location tracker on, on your iPhone, so you could always see where the other was, it wasn’t like you two were stalking the other, mostly you were together anyways, but it was nice to have it when you’re shopping together in a mall and lose the other. Or for a situation like this, when you came home from something and he wasn’t answering, the little picture you set for him appeared close to you and in your building, quickly you removed your shoes and the rest of your winter clothing and went for the hunt of Lando Norris.
First, you checked the living room, no sight of Lando, next you looked into the kitchen, maybe he was making himself a tea or a snack, but no, no Lando. Maybe the bedroom? Nada. You checked both bathrooms but he also wasn’t there, utility room was empty as well, so the only place he could be was his gaming room. You opened the door and saw him sitting on his gaming chair in front of his computer.
”Lan?“, you softly whispered.
He turned around and his eyes lit up, ”Baby! You’re home.“
He got up and walked to you, embracing you in a hug and pressing a few kisses to your lips.
”Yes, I’ve been looking for you in the whole apartment, even yelled out your name and shit.“
”I‘m sorry, I didn’t hear you. I guess my headphones were too loud.“
”It’s fine, are you streaming?“
”No, just playing some games with the guys, I can log off after the round?“
”Mhm, please.“
He kissed your lips once more and put his hands on your cheeks, stroking them, ”Baby, you’re freezing! Imma log off now, do you want to lie down on the bed? I‘m coming to cuddle after I make you a hot chocolate, yeah?“
You nodded and put your head on his chest, breathing in his scent, with one last look in his eyes, you turned around and went to the bedroom. With fresh clothes, that belonged to Lando, and under the warm covers you already warmed up a little, yet you waited for Lando to come and cuddle you, that way you would be warm in no time.
”I got your hot chocolate, even added some marshmallows, why are you so cold?“, he placed the mug next to the bed on the bedside table, opened the blanket, and slipped in next to you, he opened his arms and you cuddled close to him, lying your head on his shoulder. He reached over to the bedside table and gave you the mug with the hot beverage, you carefully took a few sips after you sat up and answered his question.
”I don’t know, I guess I need actual winter shoes and thicker scarfs, maybe gloves too.“
”Baby, I told you multiple times you need to buy more winter clothing.“
”I know, but it’s so expensive and I can’t seem to find something I truly like.“
”If you want, we can go shopping for clothes tomorrow.“
You nodded and cuddled closer to his chest, you could already feel that your hands got warmer and your feet were warming up too. His legs were entangled with yours, and he tried to keep them as close as possible to his own, giving his warmth to you. You drank the rest of your hot chocolate and gave the empty mug back to Lando, so he could put it back on the bedside table.
”But how was your day with Charlotte?“
”It was good, we had a lot of fun, I can show you the stuff we got later or tomorrow, I tried to find new shoes but you know me, I always buy what I don’t need. I need more space in our closet because I bought like five new hoodies.“
”Why do you buy yourself hoodies? You mostly wear mine anyway.“
You let out some air, ”I know, I just like hoodies, what can I say.“
He let out a laugh and cradled you closer, rubbing your arms with his hands to try and get you to warm up quicker.
”Are you warming up?“
”A little.“
He wrapped his arms around your shoulder again and hugged you close while pressing several kisses to your head, making sure you were comfortable. The comfort he was providing made you sleepy, and your eyes started to close more often.
”I hope you know how comfortable you are, Lan.“
”And I hope you know how perfect you fit inside of my arms, love.“
”I will fall asleep in a second, but please don’t leave me, you’re too comfy.“
”I need to change into my sleepwear, but then I am yours for the night.“
He got up and quickly pulled off his sweatpants and T-shirt, exchanging the shirt for a different one and he kept on his boxershort, he went to the bathroom for a pee and then came back to cuddle you.
”Baby, you’re freezing again.“
”Because you were gone.“
”I am here now, let’s sleep yeah? I will not let you go all night.“
With that, he laid down on his side with you in front of him and he pulled you close to his chest, keeping you cuddled to himself all night long.
#lando norris#lando norris imagine#formula 1#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris x y/n#lando x reader#lando norris one shot#lando imagine#christmas
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| So, So, Right | pt. 2
Stepbro! Anakin x innocent reader
18+ MDNI
Warnings: eventual smut, inappropriate relationships, make out sesh, reader has oral fixation
Info: Modern AU, Anakin is whipped, Anakin literally worships the ground you walk on, reader is accidentally a brat, Anakin is conflicted, NOT PROOFREAD
You were impatiently waiting for Anakin at the front door at 5:00 pm sharp, your makeup retouched and your hair up in an elegantly smooth ponytail. A small scrap of white satin tied in a bow covered your ponytail holder, you’d left your clothes on from earlier just in case Anakin came home yucky, you didn’t want to get your nice clothes dirty.
“What are you doing?” Your mom came up behind you, a mason jar of ice water clinking in her hands.
“I’m waiting for Ani. He’s gonna take me to the movies!” You turned around quickly to flash a big smile at her.
“What are you gonna see?” She slipped her arm in yours and pulled you to the couch, “sit down, standing over there isn’t gonna make him show up any faster.” She laughed.
“I dunno, whatever he wants I guess.” You shrugged, picking at the hem of your shirt.
“You know, I’m proud of you.” Your mom said softly. “I was really worried that you two wouldn’t get along.”
“What? Why?” You scoffed.
“Well you’ve been an only child your whole life and so has he. Sometimes it’s hard to adjust to a new family structure.” She patted your knee.
“Well I don’t think it’s been hard, I love him, he’s my favorite!” You grinned.
“You’re too sweet for your own good.” Your mom laughed, smiling widely as she heard Anakin’s truck pulling into the drive way.
Your feet hit the ground immediately, pushing open the glass storm door and waiting for him on the porch. His white shirt was discolored and put his jeans had stayed spotless, you assumed he probably took them off to wear his work clothes. He slammed the truck door shut, bobbing his head to the beat of whatever song he’d been listening to moments earlier.
He jogged up the front steps and held his hand out to stop you from running up to him. He grinned at your pout and furrowed brows, giving a light chuckle at your reaction.
“Look at me, you don’t want this all over you do ya?” He gestured to his stained shirt and grease streaked arms.
“I don’t care!” You rolled your eyes, a slight smile creeping up your lips when he bent down with his hands behind his back to give you a chaste kiss on your forehead.
“C’mon. Gotta shower.” He opened the glass door and ushered you inside with a gentle pat to your ass.
“Ani!” Your mom greeted him with an awkward smile, a bit of confusion in her eyes.
Anakin’s breath caught in his throat, - did she see that? -
“Hey Satine.” Anakin swallowed his guilt laced worries and smoothed the situation over with his charming smile. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up.” He thumbed over his shoulder to the stairway, before jogging up to your shared bathroom.
You walked to the kitchen, grabbing a cup of grape juice for yourself and a can of Pepsi for Anakin. Your mom following closely, her anxious demeanor went unnoticed by you.
“Gotta go get changed.” You said as you slipped past her.
“Knock knock.” You said playfully as you entered your room, seeing the bathroom door wide open and the steam coming from the shower.
Receiving no answer you hummed to yourself while you sat down your drinks, turning to your neatly made bed and seeing a cute light pink summer dress, clean white cotton underwear, a pink bralette and some white sandals. You smiled to yourself, loving when Anakin chose your clothes for you.
You slipped out of your dirty clothes and into your clean ones, stepping into the dress just as Anakin was walking out of the bathroom with a towel hung low on his waist.
“Is that okay?” He questioned, making sure you’d be comfortable wearing the outfit he’d picked.
“You always pick the perfect thing.” You smiled, pulling your ponytail over your shoulder and spinning around so Anakin could zip your dress.
He ran his knuckles down your spine on their way to your zipper, sending cold chills through you. You giggled at the sensation and pulled your shoulders up to your ears when his plump lips made contact with the nape of your neck.
“Gorgeous.” He clicked his tongue, eyes roaming your figure.
He turned on his heel, going to his room to get clothes on. He dropped his towel about halfway through the bathroom, leaving him completely bare. He didn’t even turn around to acknowledge what he had done, you blushed as an unfamiliar feeling bloomed in your stomach. You shyly looked anywhere but his open door, that is until he came strolling in, focused on buckling his belt.
“How d’ya think I look?” He did a little twist in place to show off his nice casual clothes. Non-ripped black jeans, black vans and a black&red flannel with a Minor Threat shirt underneath.
Giving him two thumbs up and a big smile you bounded over to him, stopping right in front of him. He leaned down a kissed each side of your mouth, pulling back to smile softly as he stared at your lips.
“How come you never kiss me for real?” You asked, Anakin seemed a bit taken aback by this.
“Do you want me to?” He leaned in closer, noses brushing together.
“Yes.” You smiled, closing the distance between you.
Your lips meeting in a gentle embrace. His velvety smooth lips caressing yours in an intimately cute dance. You could feel him trying to stave off a smile and it sent a shiver down your spine that made you giggle.
“What’s so funny?” He pulled back grinning.
“Nothing!” You squeaked, feeling warmth forming at the apex of your thighs.
You felt a bit shy, so you just quietly held out your hand for him to take. Which he of course did, pulling you to the door and down the stairs at breakneck speed, catching his breath on the bottom step with a laugh.
“Need some cash?” Obi-Wan asked, not looking up from his book on the couch. “Satine said you’re going out?”
“Nah I’ve got it covered.” Anakin said, flicking his wrist in a wave at his dad.
“Be safe.” Obi-Wan peered over his book from under his glasses.
“Always are, aren’t we bunny?” Anakin teased, playing with the ‘ears’ on your satin bow.
You giggled and agreed, making your way to the front door and into Anakin’s truck in no time at all. Anakin beat you there to open the door for you, waiting until you had buckled your seatbelt before closing the door and climbing in his side. His warm hand resting on your knee, squeezing lightly as he backed out of the drive way.
“Took a bit longer than I thought,” he hummed, “Sonic okay? I don’t think we have time for a restaurant.” He tapped the clock on the radio.
“Yeah, ‘course.” You agreed as he pulled up to a stall to order your food. You were just happy to be here with him.
A vanilla milkshake and a whole load of tater tot’s later you were making your way through the ticket line at the movies, settling for something scary. Anakin always teased that you weren’t ‘big enough’ to handle horror movies, and you wanted to prove him wrong.
“I promise. I won’t get freaked out like last time!” You tugged on his shirt sleeve while he laughed.
“Sure. Sure. Just don’t come crying to me when you get scared.” He said semi-sternly.
“Fine.” You crossed your arms, feelings a bit squished thinking that he might’ve been serious.
“Baby, I’m only kidding. You know that.” He pulled you into his chest with a possessive tug at your hip.
“I know.” You answered quietly, collecting your tickets from the man at the counter.
“Let’s go find a good seat m’kay?” He pulled you along, his arm thrown across your shoulders.
He led you to the top row, the theater was sparse compared to what you expected. The movie had been out for at least two weeks but you didn’t expect it to be so empty. You clapped excitedly, loving that you practically had the whole place to yourselves.
Anakin lifted the armrest between your seats so you could lean over on him, lifting his arm up so you could comfortably wiggle into place. His arm around you lowered until he had a firm grip on your upper thigh, his thumb in the crease where your leg met your hip, his long fingers squeezing the soft flesh of your ass.
That warm feeling crept back up into your stomach, sending a shiver down your legs. Anakin noticed, smirking to himself before twisting to pepper your hair with kisses.
The movie started off slow, but as it went on the gruesome violence was starting to get to you. You tucked yourself up under his arm, hiding your face in his chest.
“Is it too much babydoll?” He whispered, his breath ghosting you ear.
You shook your head, not wanting to admit defeat. “No, just tell me when the killer is gone.”
A few seconds later Anakin gave you the okay signal and your head popped back up to see the bloody aftermath on screen. It was enough to make you nauseous, you closed your eyes and swallowed, refusing to give in to your silly childlike fear.
You squeaked and sunk back into his chest, feeling his chest rumble as he held back a chuckle.
“My poor girl.” He tutted, stroking your cheek softly. “Do you want to go?”
“No!” You pouted.
“There’s no shame in being scared babe. It’s called a horror movie for a reason.” He squeezed your cheeks to puff out your lips, making you giggle.
“I can do it. It’s almost done.” You nodded, sneaking your thumb into your mouth. Chewing the skin on the sides of your fingernail. As stupid as it was, it was comforting to you. At this point you didn’t care if Anakin thought it was weird, you just needed to calm yourself.
He watched from the corner of his eye, your lips wrapped around your digit made his cock twitch.
“Princess?” He whispered softly, his hand not occupied by your ass cheek came to tilt your face toward his.
Sullenly you removed your thumb and gave him a shame faced smile. Afraid he’d be judgmental, your eyes widened as he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip. His gaze never left yours as he slipped the pad of his thumb past your lips and slid it gently across your tongue in massaging circles.
“That better baby doll?” He asked, his voice husky as he shifted in his seat.
Something about the way he asked you this, or maybe something about the way he looked at you had you feeling that warm tingly feeling in your stomach again. You hummed in agreement against his thumb, earning a little grunt from his throat. He crossed and uncrossed his legs as he tried to get comfortable again, his dick straining in his jeans.
You spent the rest of the movie just like this, Anakin’s thumb caressing your tongue and his other hand migrated under the hem of your dress, trailing lightly up and down your thigh.
As the credits rolled you unfurled from Anakin’s embrace, reluctantly standing up to stretch. Anakin laced your fingers with his yours and led you down the steps and too the main foyer of the theater.
“Hey!” Someone called your name and your head spun in search of the source.
A hand waving frantically caught your attention and you squinted to properly see their face. Joshua, a student from one of your Gen. Ed. classes made his way toward you.
“Who’s this?” Anakin asked, his hand tightening around yours.
“A boy from school!” You said, dragging him behind you.
“Josh! This is Anakin, Anakin, Josh.” The boys nodded toward each other, gauging the other reluctantly.
“How’s your summer?” Josh asked, choosing to ignore Anakin completely.
“Oh it’s good, Ani just started a new job, we’re out celebrating!” You looked up at Anakin proudly, resting your hand on his chest.
“Oh. Nice.” Josh grumbled, “he your boyfriend?”
Anakin opened his mouth to speak but you interrupted. “No silly, he’s my stepbrother. Remember? I told you my mom was getting remarried.”
Anakin’s arm slithered around your waist, pulling you back into him. Tilting your head back to kiss your lips with a devilish grin plastered on his face. You were too busy gazing up at Anakin to noticed the flash of disgust travel across Josh’s face.
“Alright, Josh,” Anakin mumbled, “gotta get my pretty girl home don’t I?”
“Mhm, okay Ani.” You smiled, waving in the general direction of josh, completely unaware that he had made a fast exit after Anakin’s display of affection.
“I didn’t like that guy.” Anakin sighed as he ushered you into the truck.
“Why? He’s always been nice.” You asked.
“He seems off. I think it’s best if you keep your distance princess.” Anakin smoothed your dress before buckling you in. “I just wanna keep you safe.”
“I know, I trust you.” You smiled.
“Good girl.” Anakin grinned, closing the door and making his way to his side.
The ride home was quiet as you watched the night sky twinkle with the stars, streetlights flickering and porch lights turning on. The pavement gave way to gravel as Anakin pulled into the drive way. Suddenly then air felt a bit thicker when he clicked the release on your seatbelt, you turned to him, his face just inches from yours.
“Let me try something okay princess?” He breathed, “c’mere.”
He pulled you into him, one hand on the nape of your neck and one hand pressing against your lower back.
Tentatively he dipped down, eyes flicking from yours to your lips before he dove in and pressed his mouth to yours. In comparison to the sweet kisses you’d shared earlier, this was rougher, more passionate. The aggressiveness of it had you gasping for air and Anakin’s tongue slowly pushed against yours, exploring your mouth slowly, making sure to memorize your taste. Reluctantly he pulled back, your lips chasing his until he gripped your neck firmly.
“You have no idea what that does to me.” He palmed himself, shifting his cock to fit more comfortably, turning your head away when you tried to watch what he was doing.
You whimpered into his mouth as he captured you in another devouring kiss, this time you moved your tongue in sync with his. Earning a moan that rumbled from his throat to your lips. He paused, as if considering something, before cupping your face in both hands and tilting your head back.
His lips left yours to place a sloppy open mouthed kiss to your throat. Taking note of the way you clenched your thighs tightly together and leaned into him, a pleased smirk on his face when he pulled back.
“Let’s get you inside before I… well let’s get you inside.” He chuckled to himself.
Your head too fuzzy to even question him about his odd statement.
“Hop up here baby doll.” Anakin tapped the bathroom sink. Bringing a washcloth to your face to remove your makeup for you.
Brushing your hair and braiding it down your back for you. He placed your toothbrush in your hand and brought your hand up to your mouth. Encouraging you to go ahead and start brushing your teeth while he went into his room.
“You can wear this tonight,” he laid one of his sleep shirts next to you on the counter.
“Spit.” He held a cup to your lips for you to spit your toothpaste into, rinsing it out and filling it with a bit of water for you to rinse the residue out with.
“All done.” He smiled, lifting you up by your hips and standing you in front of him, unzipping your dress slowly, placing his shirt in your hands.
“Go ahead, I’ll turn around.” He smiled, turning on his heels and dramatically covering his eyes.
You let the dress fall to the floor and kicked it aside, removing the bralette and pulling his shirt over your head. Leaving you in just his shirt and your underwear. You tapped his shoulder and he turned his head to nip at your fingers just to hear you squeal.
“Climb up in bed baby doll.” He ushered you into your room, peeling back the covers for you to crawl under.
He dropped his jeans to the floor, and slipped his shirt over his head. His toned stomach stretching as he lifted his arms over his head. He crawled in after you, pulling a book off your nightstand to start reading.
“Just one chapter tonight okay?” He yawned, petting your cheek as you laid on his bare chest.
“Okay.” You nodded, fiddling with a loose string on his boxers.
Anakin tried his best to ignore your fingers brushing against the sensitive skin on his waist. He was quickly becoming flustered, your hand so close to his crotch while you were completely unaware of what you were doing to him. Your touches getting heavier as you felt sleep creeping in, the back of your hand grazing across his half hard length. He jerked unexpectedly and caused you to stir.
“Are you okay?” Your head shot up worriedly.
“Yeah ‘course. Just a little jumpy.” He smiled, a light blush across his nose.
“Did I hurt you?” You asked, this time purposely dragging your fingers over the same spot to see if he reacted again.
Anakin did in fact react to your touch, a muffled groan slipped out and he tried to cover it up with a cough as he shut the book. He gently moved your hand up his abdomen, looking down at you with obvious conflict in his eyes. You didn’t understand, you just recognized that he was uncomfortable as he grabbed at his crotch and repositioned himself with a grunt.
“No you didn’t hurt me.” He smiled, “just- just a little sensitive there.”
“M’sorry Ani.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up from his chest, playing with the hairs between his bellybutton and the waistband of his boxers.
“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t know baby doll.” He leaned down and cupped your face in his large hands. Rubbing his nose against yours before giving you a peck on each cheek.
“Goodnight princess.” Anakin stood, pressing his lips to his thumb and swiping it across your bottom lip.
“Night Ani.” You whispered as Anakin turned out your light and left to his room.
Anakin laid awake, his cock throbbing and his mind spinning. Finally he sighed, deciding he needed some relief. Slowly he palmed himself through his boxers, groaning from the sensitivity of being hard for so long. He closed his eyes, pulling his member free from the tightened fabric, stroking himself languidly as he pictured your lips around his dick like they’d been wrapped around his thumb earlier.
Just as his legs stiffened and the hot coil in his stomach snapped he heard the pitter patter of your footsteps on the cold bathroom tile. His cum coated his palm, he panicked shoving his softening cock back into his boxers. Thinking quickly he slipped his sticky hand beneath the sheets and wiped his palm against the side of the mattress.
“Anakin?” You sniffled, shuffling to his side.
“What is it princess?” Anakin’s face was blood red, his voice shaky.
“Can’t sleep.” You lifted the blankets and forced your way into his bed, pushing him away from the edge so you could take his spot.
“Bad dreams?” He asked quietly, lifting his arm for you to tuck yourself against his bare chest.
“Uh huh.” You nodded, “remember at the movie?”
“What about it baby doll?” He whispered against the shell of your ear, breathing in the scent of your hair.
“Can I?” You looked up at him, batting your eyelashes.
Tentatively you picked up his free hand, bringing it to your lips. He didn’t protest, so you assumed it was okay, his calloused thumb settled on your tongue. Your nose scrunched up, noticing a weird taste on his skin, tangy and salty. You pulled his hand from your mouth and looked up at him quizzically.
“Why’s it taste like that?” You asked, opening his palm and licking a stripe up the rough skin. Collecting the residue on your tongue while Anakin tried his best to hold back a groan as he felt himself getting hard again.
“That’s enough.” He said sternly, pulling his hand back from your eager lips.
“But- what is it? Tastes good.” You pouted.
“Oh god.” He whimpered, shoving his face into his pillow.
“Ani?” You whined, trying to push him to roll over, so you could see his face.
“Just a second baby.” He sounded like he was having trouble breathing, and it worried you.
“No, lemme see.” You demanded, using all your strength to shift his weight so that he was laying on his side.
He still refused to look at you, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth in a vice grip. So you hiked up one leg and tossed it over his hip, using it as leverage while you place your hands on his chest and pushed. You fell on his lower abdomen, the mattress springing beneath you caused you to bounce slightly as you landed on him, your ass settling on his crotch.
His hands quickly came to your hips, gripping you tightly, trying to lift you off of him.
“Babydoll. No.” He warned, but you crossed your arms and shook your head. Further making your point by scooting back, feeling a warmth pulsing beneath you.
A tiny whimper left your lips when you unintentionally rolled your core against him, a streak of lightning rushed through your body that made your eyebrows furrow and Anakin’s hands left your hips to cover his face.
“Fuck. Baby? Baby!” His hands shot out to grab your wrists that were planted firmly on his bare chest. “Remember when I said I’m real sensitive down there?”
“Uh huh.” You nodded, pushing your cunt down on his now rock hard cock.
“God. Please princess I need you to stop.” He groaned, his voice gravely.
His grip on your wrists tightened, squeezing until his fingers dug into your flesh. You tried to shake loose to no avail.
“Let go!” You whined. “Why do I have to stop? Feels good.”
“What?” He squeaked, eyes wide.
“Feels good Ani.” You looked down at him with sad puppy eyes as you rocked against him.
He propped himself up on his elbows, in disbelief at what you’d just said. One hand coming to your cheek in a gentle caress.
“Say that again.” His voice thick with want.
“Feels good Ani. Just let me.” You answered immediately.
“Show me where it feels good, tell me what it feels like.” He tapped your hip to get you to lift off of him.
“Here.” You whimpered as you pressed two fingers against the center of your panties, feeling a wet spot there. “It tingles. It hurts.”
“Do you want me to help? I can make it better.” His hand left your cheek and slithered around the back of your neck, waiting for your answer.
“Please?” You nodded feverishly, the air being knocked out of you when Anakin flipped you onto your back.
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Fire Is The Devils Only Friend
Chapter Six
There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him
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When Carlos came home, the house was quiet. He called out his girlfriend's name, but she didn't respond. "Piñón!" He shouted, but the dog didn't come running up to him.
It was fine, no reason to panic. She was probably just asleep, stayed up to watch the Grand Prix and was now curled up in bed with Piñón. Carlos left his bags in the hallway and set off towards the bedroom.
But the bedroom was empty and her things were gone. "Cariño!" Carlos shouted, panic in his voice. "Piñón! Baby! Where are you!" He ran from room to room, desperately searching for the two of them.
He must have ran past the fridge three times before he spotted the note. Stuck to the fridge with a magnet from their Bali vacation. Carlos pulled off the note and put the magnet back.
Carlos,
I love you. I will always love you, but I can't do this. Maybe it's because I love you that watching you, kissing and proclaiming your love to another, is so hard.
I took Piñón to my mothers house. You can come pick him up.
She didn't sign it, didn't leave her name at the bottom of the letter, just the address. Carlos couldn't help the strained sob that left his lips, the paper crumpling in his hands.
But he had no time for this. He wanted her back, and he was going to get her back. Grabbing the ring box from his underwear drawer and ran out to his car, driving off before the door was shut.
Carlos broke several speed limits on his way to her mothers house. Several times he nearly crashed; it was a miracle that he rang the door bell in one piece.
As soon as it rang, he heard Piñón barking from inside. He waited, hand holding the ring box in his pocket as he waited for the door to be pulled open.
"Oh," said her mother as soon as she laid eyes on Carlos. "I'd say it's nice to meet you, but I don’t think it is, is it?" She said, lips pulled tight.
Carlos had dreamed of this moment, the moment he'd get to meet her parents. He thought he'd either be asking for permission to marry her, or showing off the ring he had slipped onto her finger. The ring that was currently in a little black box in his pocket.
"Please, I need to speak to her," he said, squeezing the box.
She rolled her eyes, called for her daughter, and stepped away, leaving Carlos alone.
It was Piñón he saw first. The dog pulled on his lead, trying to get to his master. But she held his lead between her delicate fingers. "His bed is inside," was all she said as she passed the lead to him.
But Carlos didn't take the lead. "Cariño," he said, but she shook her head.
"Don't, Carlos," she whispered. "Didn't you get my notes?"
He swallowed thickly. "My love, I..." He sucked in a breath, pulled out the ring box and got down onto his knee.
"Oh, Carlos. Don't do this," she whispered, her breath shaking. "Please don't do this."
"Marry me," he said as soon as she had finished speaking. "Marry me. I'll leave Ferrari, I'll stop driving if I have to. I just need you in my life."
Suddenly the door was open fully and she was walking Piñón past him. She opened the door of his Golf and placed Piñón inside. She stroked and kissed his head. "Be a good boy," she whispered against his fur. "Be the good boy I know you can be."
She closed the door and walked back inside, grabbed his bed from the living room and shoved it into Carlos's arms. "You can never begin to understand what you mean to me, Carlos. But I can't do this. I tried. I really tried because I couldn't imagine living without you. But even that is too much of a burden on my heart.”
Carlos didn't stand up, not until she had shut the door in his face. But, even then, it took him a minute to stand up. It was only when Piñón began barking from the car that he stood.
His legs were shaking as he stood up and climbed into the car. He shut the door and immediately took off, unable to even stand being on her driveway.
For the last year, all either of them had known was each other. Carlos still had the ring, but he couldn't imagine giving it to anybody but her. When Carlos got back to the house, their house, he put tge ring box back into his underwear drawer. No, that wasn't right. It wasn't their house. It was just his.
Carlos pr have a lot he needed to rebuild from. Just a broken heart. She had nothing. Nothing but her book. She had nowhere but her mothers to live and nobody she could to about this with.
For over a month, Carlos didn't sleep peacefully. How could he when his bed was so cold?
He remembered the first time he invited Rebecca back to his room. Carlos hated himself. As he laid beside her naked body, he hated himself. Because she wasn't her. She would never be her.
Eventually she moved on. It took just over a year, twelve and a half months until she went on her first date. Even then, she couldn't help but think of Carlos, think of the man she had almost married.
Another best seller came out a year after their breakup. Carlos read it. Again and again he read it. In the garage he read it. Laying beside Rebecca, he read it.
There was one time where the cameras caught Carlos crying, tears falling onto the pages of her book. The picture circulated everywhere, but she never saw it.
And, at the end of the year, Lewis Hamilton contacted Ferrari, expressing a desire to drive for the Italy based team. Carlos didn't know this, not until he got the call that his seat was filled.
She was his soulmate. Everything he had put her through in an attempt to keep his seat, and it had all been for nothing.
He had lost her over a seat he didn't have.
Now, he had nothing.
FIN
a/n: oh my god its done. I can't believe it's done. Once again I'd like to thank @darleneslane for letting me bring this series to life
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You and Aemond fought, so he invites at dinner another girl
English is not my first language, be kind.
Modern!Aemond x fem!Reader
Warnings: Sex description
Part two: You left Aemond on read
Part three: Aemond apologies
You are in a relationship with modern!Aemond
Aemond was just sitting at the kitchen table, as his mother was finishing setting the dishwasher. He was drumming his fingers repeatedly on the table as he looked down, looking at nothing, lost in his thoughts.
“She was… nice.” Alicent, his mother, said.
“Mhh.” Aemond simply answered in a low grunt. The girl he invited for dinner just left. He actually barely remembered her name.
He could see the disappointment in her face when she left after dinner, clearly hoping to spend the night with him, but he had no interest in it, he never actually had the intention of doing anything with her, she was just… a substitute. No, more like an object he used to prove something to himself.
“She’s pretty…” his mother added then. Aemond rolled his eye, he knew his mother didn’t really mean it, those were exactly the things she said to be polite with him when he brought a girl home and she didn’t like her.
“You don’t like her.” Aemond said, raising his gaze at her. Alicent pressed her lips together and sat at the table with him.
“What happened to the other girl? Y/N?” she asked in a soft tone.
“Nothing.” Aemond looked away.
“Son, I know you… You looked very into her, so why did you bring this girl home now?”
Aemond sighed.
“I fucked it up.” Aemond sighs and Alicent crunches her nose a bit at his language, but Aemond didn’t really care, he had too much on his mind now to care about talking like his mother liked.
“What did you do?” she asked. Aemond looked at her again.
“She got mad, I got mad… we fought. Badly.” he admitted. His mother took his hand in hers.
“I’m sure you can find a way to fix it. She looked very into you as well.” She smiled softly.
“You just want her over again because she always helped you.” Aemond tried to say in amusement, but it came out more like a complaint. Alicent huffed a laugh.
“That too.” She joked lightly. “She made you smile a lot.” she added then, and Aemond looked away from her again. It was true. He smiled a lot with her. He rarely smiled. He liked her too, and her body… Aemond shook his head slightly, not wanting to have his thoughts drift that way in front of his own mother.
“I’ll fix it, don’t worry, mother.” he said then and he got up from his seat, taking his hand away from his mother’s. He kissed the top of her head and went upstairs to his old bedroom, undressing and putting on just a pair of his sweatpants. He got under the cover and he sighed. He actually missed her, and he hated it. He never actually let anyone grow under his skin after…
Aemond closed his eye and took off his eyepatch, rubbing his temple. He hated that when he last saw her, after the argument, she walked away like he meant nothing to her, and although he acted the same way, how he felt was the opposite. He asked that girl to come to dinner to see if he could have been able to get distracted from Y/N, but to no avail. He was almost disgusted when that girl tried to touch his thigh or arm. He even abruptly took his hand away when she tried to grab it. He knew she just wanted to end up in his bed.
Stupid whore.
He hated feeling so ruined. Y/N was his doom, he was aware of that, yet, right now, all he wanted was to have her in his bed. Take her on his childhood bed. He would have her on her knees, as he grabbed her hair, after having her begging for it, and oh, if she knew how to beg. He would be forcing her throat to accommodate all of his cock, making her gag repeatedly as she dig her nails in his thighs. He would then pull away just before cumming, forcing himself back, so then he could throw her to his bed, and eat her out real good, slipping his fingers in her mouth to keep her quiet. She was always so vocal, so loud, making him proud of his work. After making her desperate with at least two orgasms, reduced her in a babbling mess, he would have her begging for his cock to be inside her, he would have fucked her roughly, pushing her down on his bed, as he squeezed her breast in his hand, then letting it roam to her neck and grip it just as he knew she liked. Aemond groans, closing his eyes. He was getting hard. He hated how she always managed to make him so hard. Fuck, she wasn’t even there. He groaned and he forced himself to stop those thoughts.
He sighed loudly, he grabbed his phone and opened her contact. He looked at the screen of his phone for a long time, but then he moved his fingers over it, and quickly texted her before his ego made him change his mind.
“Let’s meet up.”
“To talk.”
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