STAYING FOREVER S. Gojo

STAYING FOREVER ─ s. gojo

SUMMARY : five times satoru has said your name with different kinds of emotions, and one time he said your name softly.

CONTENT : fluff, friends to lovers, angst, smut, s2 spoilers, sub!satoru, dom!fem!reader, riding, praise, dacryphilia (lots of crying), handjob, two orgasms, creampie, small aftercare

W. COUNT : 8,0k

AUT. NOTE : this took a ridiculous amount of time, and i’m still not satisfied with it !! :(

you gulped at the “welcome to jujutsu high” sign standing tall at the entrance of the school you were transferred to just a few days ago. apparently, it was due to your ‘ability to see curses’—mind you, what the hell was a curse anyway?

sure, some strange creatures always kept peeking out from behind the buildings whenever you were on your way to school or back, but you always thought you were just a bit insane. or at least, that’s what your parents, who couldn’t see curses, always told you.

years of therapy that you didn’t even need were hopeless to shut down your worries, and you sometimes wonder if you were just as out of your mind as everybody, even your friends think.

“aliens? cut that crap out, [name]!” they would laugh at you.

the information you have spilled to your therapist somehow reached yaga, the principal of the school you were walking through at the very moment, who wasted no time to reach out to you, happy to explain every one of your questions.

well, he wasn’t exactly happy to realize yet another bright teenager like you will spend years of torture and the burden of being a sorcerer, building up friendships just to watch them drop dead one by one—only to end up like them.

he didn’t tell you that because he knew you were already aware of the amount of pain you would go through once you accepted your position as a student at jujutsu high.

but it was worth a try, right?

you were currently following the principal. he told you to just stay quiet and let him introduce you to your new classmates and future mission partners.

the door into the classroom was slammed open by yaga, and his cold and stoic face matched his deep voice that echoed through the room, “good morning─”

“good morning, sensei!” a white-haired male yells from his seat, his grin spreading from one ear to another. your jaw dropped when you took a good look at him.

he was drop-dead gorgeous.

the iconic glasses he always used to wear were abandoned on his desk to reveal his vibrant blue eyes that could kill by the way they lit up the whole room—which was lowkey a bit creepy. nevertheless, the shade of the blue was just so hypnotic that you couldn’t look away.

the boy’s six eyes immediately get triggered under your stare, and he wastes no time to let his dramatic side out.

“sensei—” the male begins, taking a big inhale, and your face already cringes when you realize his plan is nothing else but to yell at the top of his lungs, “she’s staring!”

the classroom falls dead silent, and you watch the other male with a bun slap the back of the white-haired’s head. the girl next to them sat unbothered, her lips pursing at the awkward silence.

“satoru . . .” yaga warns him, making the boy flinch and shrink back to his seat with a wobbly but embarrassed smile that shows how much he’s prepared for the whole hour of scolding from the principal later.

the older man sighs, “this is your new classmate, [name].”

you stand in front of the board in silence as yaga begins to explain some things that are not related to you—instead, you pay attention to the gazes of the trio you just learned to recognize as your classmates.

a brunette girl on your right, closest to the window. a guy with a bun who was sitting in the middle. and, of course, a white-haired guy closest to the door. maybe that is why your eyes landed on him the second you stepped in.

from what you could tell, the black-haired male held zero judgment towards you by the way he offered you a friendly smile that made his eyes curl into the shape of a crescent moon. he looked kind, and you smiled back.

the girl was questionable at first. she looked up and down at you, and for a second, you were afraid her face would do the twist of disgust, and she would roll her eyes as most of the girls in your school did—but she didn’t. instead, she offered you the same smile the boy on her right did.

the white-haired male—satoru, as yaga mentioned—was a bit different. his reaction was rather interesting. aside from yelling at the top of his lungs that you were staring at him, he did exactly what you expected from the girl on the left.

“[name]?” satoru huffs in annoyance. he stared at you with a pout, his face twisting. but it wasn’t a judgmental twist that would make you burst out in tears and run away from the room—even when you didn’t say a single word, and your voice was still unknown to him.

“i don’t like her,” satoru huffs proudly. the attention he was expecting was far away from reality than he would like to admit. angry look from yaga, an annoyed look from his two other classmates, and a sad look from you.

maybe this was a sign for him to never speak again.

“suguru,” satoru whispered harshly, nudging his elbow into the boy’s side, who was already sending him an ‘are you serious’ look, “back me up!”

suguru clicked his tongue, “raise your hand if you care.”

the silence that fell right after suguru’s words was so damn awkward that even you couldn’t help but feel bad for the amount of embarrassment satoru must have felt after not a single person in the room raised their hand. his head hung low in shame, the sound of his forehead slamming against the desk only making others roll their eyes.

“i apologize for satoru’s behavior, [name]. please, feel free to take a seat.” yaga says, but immediately finds the issue of why you never sat down—the only available spot was right next to satoru. yaga clears his throat.

“suguru? shoko? please,” the principal didn’t have to repeat himself twice for the two of them to nod and switch their seats so that you could be as far as possible from satoru and his bratty personality.

the rest of the class period was quiet, but you could feel satoru’s gaze on you almost every five minutes—just about every time yaga turned his back to all four of you to write something on the board. so as soon as the teacher lifted the piece of chalk to write something, satoru had his head snapped in your direction.

“ignore him,” shoko whispered since even though satoru wasn’t looking at her, his gaze was so easy to pick up that even yaga, who had turned around for a while, knew what was going on behind his back.

after what felt like forever, the class came to an end—that couldn’t be said the same for satoru’s non-stopping stare that went on and on for the past hour without breaking. but once you found the courage to make eye contact with him, he was a long time gone.

you sigh in defeat and wonder if maybe next time you will be able to talk to satoru normally without him him having the need of digging blades into you with his stare.

“hey,” shoko spoke, “can i get your number?”

the weekend followed. you questioned why you had to be transferred to the school on friday and why they just couldn’t let you stay home for the weekend and then show you the school—but who are you to wander into yaga’s office and complain.

when shoko texted you just some location of a random street without telling you any context or clues, anxiety began to rise within your body. funny how a simple “meet us there” was able to shake you up so much.

no, they won’t kidnap you and beat you until death just because satoru was too picky with his choices of making new friends—you had to insure yourself.

“hey, you came!” shoko cheers as soon as you come into her vision, and you tell yourself that it wasn’t so bad, you were just overthinking again. a special habit you had for the longest time, “i’m glad you did.”

suguru nods with that same kind smile and adds, “we were afraid you wouldn’t show up.”

you smiled at their words, genuinely grateful you won’t spend all your sorcerer years as a punching bag for some mean kids who were raised without any sort of manners.

there were two other people, both male. the blonde one introduced himself quietly but with a hint of respect while the brunette one just shook your hand, looking like he was about to burst from having too much energy.

“we’ll go check the movie seats. wait here, okay?” shoko waved, and you nodded, soon enough finding yourself a nice empty bench while the other four entered the movie theater.

the streets were quiet, and you had to admit that it was quite relaxing. not until you heard heavy footsteps and a very familiar voice rushing right in your direction. you cursed under your breath.

“nooo! they went inside already?!” satoru dramatically collapses right next to you, the plastic bag that he was holding landing right on top of your lap. fortunately, none of the things ended up broken.

after satoru was done with his fake sobbing and whining about how he “checked the time multiple times” and “how dare they go inside without him”, he took the bag from your lap to his to open it.

“i’m sorry. about uh,” satoru clears his throat, “yesterday.”

for a second, you froze. apology from satoru gojo himself? oh, you were so flattered you could yell it out from the rooftops. but truth be told, you weren’t affected by his yesterday act at all. maybe that has something to do with your “people’s people” personality.

“oh, no, no!” you wave it off. satoru hears your voice for the first time, and he’s shocked about how sweet and gentle it sounds, “it’s okay, really─”

“no, i’m serious,” satoru cuts you off before you have the chance to rant about how truly you didn’t care and that sometimes, first impressions just don’t go as many people would like them to be, and that’s okay.

“i brought you this as an apology. i hope you like sweets as much as i do!” the sorcerer shoots you the same grin he did yesterday when greeting yaga. “please accept it. it was the last piece.”

satoru hands you a plastic box of edamame and cream kikufuku—a small tag hung from the side of it, and the price that was supposed to be on it was harshly ripped apart so you were unable to tell how much he spent.

you hummed, “thank you, gojo—”

“satoru. please, call me satoru.”

“okay, satoru.” you smile, feeling happy with the whole situation. at first, he was an asshole who looked like he wanted to throw you out of the classroom just because you were breathing, and now, he spent god-knowing how much yen just to buy you an apology gift.

“hey, the movie is starting—oh, satoru!” suguru’s smile got wider at the sight of his best friend and you sitting next to each other, satoru’s favorite kikufuku flavor on your lap.

satoru, immediately after hearing suguru’s voice, grinned and jumped up from his seat. you came running right after them, tightly holding the sweet dessert the white-haired boy had bought you close to your chest as if it was the most precious and important thing in the whole world.

the movie was, in your opinion, boring. supposedly, it was a famous summer horror that your classmates, along with haibara and nanami, wanted to see for the longest time.

the plot wasn’t even that bad, and it had the potential to be interesting if it wasn’t for the poor choice of actors in the movie. the budget was low too, and it showed. so the only thing you really could do was stare at the poor attempts of what was supposed to be a jumpscare.

“oh, man . . .” satoru groaned from beside you and gave in to the impulse thought of spreading his long, aching limbs everywhere they could fit—because he was the strongest, who was gonna stop him when his spreading arms would block their vision of the threader screen?

“this movie is boring!” the sorcerer was now spread all over his seat, your seat, and also you. the boy takes good notice of how you didn’t even look at him when his legs landed right on your lap and how you continued to stare at the screen with a blank expression.

satoru decided to push his luck to spread out even more than he already was. but this time, his head took the place of his legs—right on your lap. finally, you did look down at the recognition of something shaped like a head, and you smiled when you saw the white-haired boy grin up and you.

what you didn’t expect was when satoru’s thumb rose to flick his own forehead multiple times, mentioning for you to kiss the spot he had touched just now. and you listened. bending down a bit, your hand removed all the bangs his hand wasn’t able to scoop, and your lips contacted the skin of his forehead.

“didn’t know you would fall so easily, [name]!” satoru says teasingly, followed by a genuine chuckle. his toothy grin shoved appearance again, and you bit down your lip so as not to burst out laughing and ruin the movie experience for the other people.

a quit flash of a camera, “cut it out, lovebirds,” shoko had to lean over to whisper from her seat so that the guy, who was already glaring at her for taking a picture in the threader, wouldn’t bash her out.

“get a room, you two!” suguru chuckled from the other side and watched both of your faces catch an adorable shade of pink that would be hard to get rid of once the same thing might happen later.

because satoru is definitely getting another kiss from you.

“ew! look how ugly that is!” riko squeaked out of disgust, pointing at a strange-looking creature that desperately tried to bury itself back in the sand before another wave of ocean water arrived and filled the hole again.

the worm-like creature kept digging even after many failed attempts to disappear from the hungry seagulls who kept circling above the four of you for the past half hour.

“ew!” your boyfriend yelled, voice high-pitched when he burst out laughing at the poor animal trying, but failing, to borrow itself away from the flying predators, “don’t worry, princess!” he jumps in from of you, “i will protect you from that gut-wrenching alien!”

“it’s a sea cucumber,” you deadpan, watching suguru and riko chuckle at satoru’s reaction—which was giving you a long face before letting his head fall in defeat, close to throwing a tantrum, “help it, satoru.”

“you’re no fun!” the boy huffs but listens to you anyway. his colossal hands dug deep into the sand, and once reaching a good size, satoru stared at you in silence.

“what?” you question.

“come put the thing into the hole.” satoru gulps, wondering if you’re playing about being clueless about what he wants you to do, or if you’re dead serious.

“why?” you question again.

“it was your idea!” satoru yells. his voice held nervousness and more cracks than the strongest would like to admit.

“don’t tell me you’re scared.” you tease, earning a chuckle from suguru who leaned over your ear to whisper, “oh, he definitely is.”

satoru gasped, “no way!”

“just admit it, i won’t laugh—” you get cut off, needing to bite your lip in order not to burst out laughing because the strongest is afraid of a little sea cucumber.

“you’re already laughing!” the white-haired boy protests, pointing at you with one of his long and slim fingers that he didn’t dare to wrap around the animal.

you roll your eyes at the sorcerer and decide to put the situation into your own hands. so easily, you pick up the marine creature and put it into the hole that your boyfriend has dug. he, immediately, throws the leftover sand back at the sea cucumber right before another wave could come.

“i don’t want to see that alien near me ever again!” satoru made a fake gagging noise, holding you by your shoulder so that you won’t have the audacity to run away and find yet another sea cucumber—and maybe even chase him with it.

the sun began to set soon enough. the seagulls were gone, no longer praying on the poor sea cucumber. riko was wet from being thrown into the ocean water by satoru, and you and suguru spent a lot of time building a perfect sand castle. in secret, suguru would peek around, making sure all four of you were safe, and nobody was here to take the star plasma vessel away.

“we should go back,” suguru suggested, dusting his hands to get rid of the leftover sand he used to build a sandcastle. you nod at his words, turning around to call out for the two other idiots who are still in the water, “satoru! riko!” you yell, catching both of their attention.

satoru stuck out his tongue at the young girl before using his long legs to reach out to you and pick you up without effort. “you look ridiculous!” you squeaked. the leftover sunscreen that didn’t sink into his skin was decorating his cheeks and nose, making him look paler than he already was.

“back we go!” satoru yells, rushing past his best friend to be the first one to reach the hotel—with you still in his arms, looking like a princess the way he was holding you.

by the time satoru sets you down, you’re already in your hotel room. exhausted, you collapse on the bed, “i’m going to take a shower,” you mumbled into the sheets before you picked yourself up and grabbed your towel.

“alright, princess!” satoru grins from behind you, sending you a small wave before you disappear into the bathroom of your hotel. the sorcerer could finally let his grin drop, the same exhausted collapse on the bed following his mind.

but he couldn’t. he had to stay up for the sake of riko. even if it meant another sleepless night would have to haunt the already tired sorcerer. he was the strongest, after all. one night without sleeping won’t kill him.

“satoru?” you call out, confused. the room was empty by the time you stepped out of the shower—no sight of your boyfriend. your footsteps were quiet as you moved down the hall, only to find satoru sitting in the lobby alone.

you kneel in front of him, “you should sleep.”

“can’t,” satoru hums, “too dangerous.”

you sigh at his words. the whole star plasma vessel thing was fucked up and already made your head ache. and the fact you had to watch your boyfriend’s eyebags grow by each day wasn’t helping.

“don’t worry about me, [name],” satoru assured you as if reading your mind, voice visibly tired as he spoke.

“i’ll still worry about you,” you begin, placing a soft peck on his lips, “but i’ll let it go. just . . . don’t exhaust yourself too much, okay?” you blink up at him, and for the last time this long night, he shot you his iconic toothy grin.

you waved at him, ready to turn around and leave—as you were grateful he was sacrificing his own sleep hours so that you could have yours. not until you heard his sweet voice.

“don’t forget to dream about me!”

the first thing in the morning was your boyfriend clinging to your arm, asking: “did you dream about me?” with a pout and puppy eyes that begged you to play along and say—

“yeah,” you ruffle his hair, “i did, ‘toru.”

satoru does a girlish gasp, covering his open mouth with both of his hands like a high-school girl—partly mocking sweet riko, who was eyeing him from the other side of the public plane.

your boyfriend stuck out his tongue, earning a smack from suguru, “cut it out, satoru.”

satoru’s reaction was a huff and dramatic snap of his head towards your direction. you, too busy looking out of the window, didn’t notice his glare. offended by your “not on purpose” ignorance, satoru let out an even louder, and more dramatic huff.

“do you need something, satoru?” you ask, finally tearing your eyes from the amazing view you got from up here.

“your attention?” satoru grins, and once hearing your heavy sigh, he knew he won. spreading himself all over the place, his head landed on your lap just like it did the first time in the threader. the memory almost brought tears—

“hey!” suguru yells, eye-widened, “get your feet off me!”

you lean forward to take a better look, almost bursting out laughing. in order for satoru to place his head on your lap and fit into his seat at the same time, his long legs spread all over his best friend’s lap. poor suguru, of course, didn’t appreciate that kind of behavior.

“deal with it,” satoru mouths, fixing his glasses by using his middle finger to push it further up his nose—flipping off his best friend in his favorite way. suguru stared back at him in disbelief, shaking his head with squinted eyes.

satoru didn’t take his legs off suguru for the rest of the flight, and the other male had to just suck it up and let you and your boyfriend have a romantic moment. but suguru would lie if he said he wasn’t irritated by satoru’s smug grin when you massaged his scalp.

the strongest didn’t have to watch his buddy’s angry stare ever since he drifted off, leaving satoru and you alone for a few hours.

“princess?” satoru spoke, and even when he likes to bother his best friend any chance he gets, his tone is quiet, not to disturb his sleep. you hum, and he continues, “i love you.”

your eyebrows furrowed, “i love you too . . . is everything okay?” you ask just in case, not expecting him to say something so casual with such a strange expression.

for a second, satoru freezes. your eyes were so soft while you waited patiently for his answer, not rushing him and expecting an answer right away just like everybody else in his life did. he was the strongest, right? what took him so long to answer such a simple question?

“everything’s fine,” satoru assured you, but you didn’t fail to notice the desperate squeeze he gave your hand. your hand sent a squeeze back, and the boy relaxed back into your lap, nodding, “promise.”

“take a nap, okay?” you suggest. the flight will last longer than all of you thought it did, and a little taste of sleep did sound nice—satoru thought it through and nodded.

satisfied by his choice of answer, you shifted yourself a bit lower to give the sorcerer more room to fully relax. he was grateful that you didn’t want him to wake up with an aching neck and burning spine.

and trust me, he did thank you by the time all of you woke up and stepped out of the plane. but now, as you walked up the many stairs of the jujutsu high, your legs ached for just a quick break.

“so─many─stairs!” you huff and take a step up with every pause, earning a shit-eating grin from your boyfriend who was able to walk up multiple stairs at once without even breaking a sweat.

“we’re almost inside the jujutsu high’s barrier,” suguru says out loud, and you wish you could just tell him that the fact he just mentioned didn’t help your aching legs or your tired brain that was overthinking all flight after satoru fell asleep.

speaking of satoru—he kept grinning all the way upstairs, never once leaving your side. as if he wanted to watch you suffer with each step.

“i could always carry you, you know?” satoru’s annoying grin got wider, if that’s even possible, as he was eager to watch your reaction. you, of course, turned him down.

the second you pass the last stair, you bend over to catch your hands on your knees. the way you gulped and gasped for air made suguru laugh as he praised everyone for making it to the top.

your eyes rolled back in “pleasure” when the jujutsu high barrier’s cold air made contact with your sweaty skin, and you sighed in relief. the only thing you needed right now was a cold shower.

the comforting feeling left as fast as it came when a warm liquid splashed your cheeks. horrified, your eyes shifted to your left to find the source—only the find your boyfriend with a sword pierced through his torso.

“satoru!” a blood-curdling scream that echoed through the whole jujutsu high campus called out his name, and suguru wasted no time to rush to you, who were already running to your boyfriend.

suguru’s curse was quick to send the attacker away, but when you reached out to help satoru, his palm stopped you right away. “i’m fine,” he smiled, acting like his uniform was not completely soaked in blood.

you were still in shock, unable to choke out anything “just ‘cause your boyfriend was fucking stabbed in front of you and his blood was on your face.” satoru felt bad for the scene he caused—even suguru and riko were worried.

“[name],” satoru said sternly, one hand cupping your cheek to fully ground you into listening to his words. which were, according to him, very important, “you and suguru, take riko and flee. i’ll finish him off.”

you wanted to slap satoru—scream and yell at him for how insane he must have to be to just tell you to leave him all by himself while you, suguru, and riko ran to safety. but then again, he was the strongest. who were you to argue with someone like him in a situation like this?

so you nodded, took riko by her arm, and together with the other sorcerer that was already waiting for your lead, you ran. there was only one thing you could do—believe in him.

“believe in the strongest,” you have told yourself, having enough faith in satoru to let him fight someone who was able to trick his infinity and land a perfect stab that made the time itself pause, letting everybody process that fact.

satoru would laugh, “a perfect stab? he wasn’t even able to hit my fetal organs!” you could already imagine the cocky grin he would shoot you just to make you feel less worried.

but now, the strongest has been announced dead.

the moment those words reached your brain, you were already thrown to the ground with a gun pointing at your motionless body. you could pick yourself up and continue the fight—but what was life without satoru, the only thing that made your life as a sorcerer not so miserable?

your face was still covered in satoru’s blood, which was now dried up. even while finding the motivation to raise your hand and clean your skin, the blood was simply too hard and stuck to your face.

your cheek lay against the cold concrete as you didn't have the energy to get up from the position the man had thrown you into. now, you were basically forced to watch suguru’s curses destroy the temple in the hope of killing whoever started this.

but is this what you really wanted? was this something that satoru would wish you to do? lay down and hear suguru’s screams whenever he got slashed across the chest, or even slammed into the hard walls of the buildings?

maybe you did consider yourself useless, but against the man who killed satoru gojo himself, everybody was—even suguru. but the difference is that he didn’t give up. hearing his best friend die stung, and so did the death of riko when he watched a bullet fly straight into her brain and watch her drop dead right in front of him. but suguru dusted himself off and kept fighting.

but by the time you somehow managed your shaky arms to support your weight to sit up, the man was gone—and so was riko’s body. you were useless to protect the girl and fight against the enemy.

the least you could do was limp all the way to suguru and help him reach shoko in time. you already lost one fucking important person in your life and you were sure as hell not gonna lose another one. so you ignored the burning feeling in your legs and dragged the male to shoko.

during suguru’s treatment, you stayed quiet. the cold wall that pressed against your back triggered every one of your nerves—if that was even possible, considering the fact that your whole body had been shut down the moment you received the news about satoru—but you were too weak to even pull away.

“[name],” yaga’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, disoriented eyes weakly lifting to meet his, “satoru’s alive.”

star religious group facilities—you never ran so fast in your life like you did right now. from one place to another, you cursed yourself for the members who have built some many of these places, as if one wasn’t enough.

“slow down!” suguru yelled. you didn’t listen, jumping off one of his curses to reach another building where you were supposed to meet satoru. so far, it was no good, and both of you were unable to spot the familiar white hair you grew to love.

the door was harshly torn open, and you were ready to let out a disappointing whine at the lack of people in the room. the thought was far from reality.

a bright room filled with hundreds of people, all dressed in white. the clapping sound of their palms directly hitting against each other made your ears ring. even suguru, who was peeking out from behind you, began to worry at your reaction.

the room went quiet when your eyes landed on the tall man walking right towards you. people didn’t stop clapping, and suguru’s mouth moved but no words came out.

there he was─the strongest, alive.

“you’re late, suguru, [name] . . .” satoru’s tone had caught you off guard. he sounded so emotionless, and his stare was blank, not a single ounce of his personality showing. the light in his eyes died too, making you choke up a sob you didn’t dare to release.

there was no need to cry. satoru was right in front of you, alive. his heart was beating, and every fetal wound he had back then was gone.

“should we kill these guys? the way i feel right now, i doubt i’d feel anything about it,” satoru asks. you froze, blinking.

the strongest was far away from being fine. later that day, all three of you returned home with a new kind of trauma that would haunt you for the rest of your life. but that was the life of a sorcerer. helping the weak and taking all the burden on yourself so that others don’t have to.

satoru was a bit shook up, only capable of creating a small form of sentences—a good start. but in the morning, he’ll be the same sunshine as he always is. that was all you could think about as you dragged your soap-covered hands up and down satoru’s back, watching all the blood fall by your feet and drench somewhere into the sewers.

shoko had already cleaned you up, but when satoru was already fast asleep in the comfort of his bed, you stayed up all night to dig your fingers into your skin in the hope of getting rid of the feeling of satoru’s blood on your face.

something like this will never happen again, you swear.

“great. now you need to add—” whatever came out of the woman’s mouth next was just blurred-out words—good for nothing sentences as you stared at the burnt pancakes with horror in your eyes.

months passed since the star plasma vessel accident, and you have grown more comfortable. satoru has been doing better too, not affected by the past events anymore.

now, you stood in the middle of the jujutsu high dorm’s kitchen. the food you have been currently working on has been burned into near ashes, making you question your cooking skills.

soon enough, you grew tired of the smell and decided to clean up so the other students wouldn’t have to work in a mess you created by your poor attempt at the evening snack.

you left the window open just in case your nose got too used to the smell, and the others would have different experiences with the terrible smell—avoiding scolding from yaga, who would never allow you to cook again. even if it meant for you to starve.

but when you returned to your dorm room, your moment of peace and quiet didn’t last as long as you wanted it to be. a small and almost shy knock came from the direction of the wooden door. too curious to ignore the person and throw yourself on the soft cushions of your bed, you rushed to answer whoever was waiting outside.

you were shocked to make eye contact with satoru, whose teary eyes and irregular breathing hinted to you he was on the verge of a panic attack—your thoughts were confirmed when a heart-breaking sob left escaped his mouth.

“h-he left . . .” satoru whispered, lips trembling. before you were given the chance to ask something, you watched him gasp for air with a pained expression, “he fucking left me!”

you stood frozen—who left? you don’t recall any news from yaga that was more recent than a few weeks ago. through the months of being a sorcerer, you never experienced the loss of someone who would decide to leave the school.

perhaps you misunderstood, and satoru was hinting at some random friend of his that he had never mentioned before. maybe they passed away, leaving your boyfriend shaking and in tears as he knocked on your door. but even then, whose absence could affect him this much?

“suguru!” satoru sobs as if he had taken your confused face as a hint for him to explain. unfortunately, his brain was mush at the moment, and the only thing he wanted to think about was getting rid of all the sadness—with your help.

“suguru? what do you—satoru, don’t . . .” you slurred out when you felt his hand weakly tug at your pants, and you immediately knew what his intentions were. you couldn’t allow him to trust you with removing his sadness, not when it involved a still unknown situation with suguru.

“p-please! please, please, please!” satoru sobs, even louder than his first try was. obviously, he wanted you to pity him and give in to drown him in the pleasure he needed so badly.

you shook your head, sternly stating: “satoru, no.” but his loud cries never died down—in fact, they only increased at your rejection. he just wanted for you to let him escape reality, so why did you keep saying no?

satoru fully broke down, hugging your waist from his kneeling position as if his life depended on it. “n-need you, please. just this once . . .” the puppy eyes he had given you was something he used only to really convince you to do something. but even then, he never used it in a serious situation like this.

“not right now, satoru,” you slowly lift him up, forcing small steps out of him before he collapses on your bed, “you’re in pain right now, you don’t realize what you’re saying. by the time you sober up, you’ll regret what you’ve asked for . . .”

the strongest shook his head and kept clinging to you like a baby koala, too afraid to face the reality of the world. what you were saying was true, and satoru’s actions weren’t as healthy as they sounded—but why did it hurt this much?

“b-but—” satoru gasps at the lack of oxygen in his lungs when he tries to confront you about whatever is happening right now but fails to do so, sobbing with frustration, “just this once . . . all i’m asking for—please!”

you weren’t sure for how long you could keep up with your rejecting act—you wanted to take away all of his problems and satisfy all his fantasies that currently fogged up his mind, so when he blinked up to you with those pretty long white lashes, you gave in with a sigh. “just this once, ‘toru.”

you gently laid him down, using pillows and blankets to make a spot comfortable enough to let him fully sink into the moment. satoru, carefully picking, chose a safeword in case the moment wasn’t as dreamy as he expected it to be.

everything was fine. satoru gave you his consent multiple times to the point he thought you were planning to edge him the whole night—tears appeared in his eyes again.

the first kiss of the night was gentle, mostly just helping to distract satoru when your hand traveled all the way down in order to wrap around his graciously pretty cock. you coo at his whimpers, “i know, i know.”

satoru moaned the second you gave him a few testing pumps, looking out for any sight of discomfort or pain.

“more,” the white-haired boy whispers when he decides the stimulation of a few “testing” pumps isn’t enough, and he wants the full experience that you were willing to give him. so carefully, your wrist moved faster.

everything was spinning. getting so much movement on his poor virgin cock from something else that wasn’t his own hand when he jerked off was a different feeling—a new kind of feeling that satoru began to like more and more.

when you increased the speed to keep the pleasure going, your thumb accidentally brushed over his tip. you mentally slapped yourself, noting to be careful next time. but satoru didn’t seem to mind. not when his back arched off the bed with a loud mewl escaping his lips.

“oh, you liked that?” you cooed at him and repeated the same process of rolling your finger over his tip. satoru’s reaction was the same, just slightly more intense with the way his cock shamelessly released an impressive amount of pre-cum.

satoru kept liking all the interactions you had with his cock so far, so the level of enjoyment didn’t decrease once your hand moved faster with the help of the sparse liquid.

the rest of his shaft became wet and slippery, basically letting you just guide your fingers to the tip before letting them fall down to the base. somehow, the movements seemed to trigger something inside the sorcerer when a fucked-out giggle left his throat.

“s-so good—it’s so good!” satoru hiccups between his words, mainly babbling to himself. and truth be told, he didn’t really care if you thought his behavior was weird. fortunately for him, you weren’t one to judge, not in a moment like this, and you kept going.

your hand shifted in different ways, looking out for places that were more sensitive than others in a way satoru could not describe. the male took an immense liking to the area near his tip, or even the tip itself—you noted and kept stimulating the same spot that made his eyes roll.

“c-close!” satoru’s tone was almost shy as he spoke. the familiar burning feeling inside his stomach rose at a rapid speed. he began to squirm underneath you of the sudden pleasure that harshly flexed his tummy, “g-gonna cum!”

“mhm,” you were quick to coo at him with small kisses all over his face. but your innocent touches failed to distract satoru’s attention from your brutal strokes of his cock that were successful to send him over the edge.

“c-cumming!” satoru’s voice was high-pitched before his orgasm washed over his body for the first time of the night. when his release landed all over his tummy, you hummed a praising sound that left the sorcerer trembling. but it was not enough. satoru wanted more.

you checked up on him, making sure he was alright after such an intense orgasm that looked almost painful in a way you couldn’t describe. oh, if only you knew how much pleasure he was in—you would have kept going without a question or pause.

“are you okay, sweet boy?” your gentle voice made satoru feel like he was floating somewhere in heaven. somewhere far away from all the pain and the burden of the world he had to carry as the strongest. especially after failing to protect so many people in his life.

satoru choked on his own sob, and his face was quick to twist from extraordinary pain at the memory from earlier. you still didn’t know what was happening because if you did, suguru would have ended up with a few broken bones for hurting his best friend in such a cruel way.

but you didn’t know, not yet. so you held satoru close to your chest in an attempt to soothe his cries. you’ve already told yourself the session was over when the male shook in your arms from the mix of his orgasm and whatever happened between his and suguru.

but to your surprise, satoru didn’t take this as the end. no, he craved—“o-one more . . . please!” he whimpered against your chest with teary eyes tightly shut. he didn’t want you to see him like this. not when he was so vulnerable.

something about the way satoru kept clinging to you as if you were to disappear made your eyes soften. the sorcerer was so close to escaping the misery that you couldn’t just decline now. with a sigh, you nodded.

satoru expected another handjob—that’s why he kept his eyes shut and let you shift positions so that you could get the work done easier. but when he felt something warm lowering itself on his cock, he gasped.

“shhh,” you whisper, cradling his head back to the original position on your chest before satoru can do it himself. if he knew that knocking at your door with tears in his eyes would lead to you riding him, he would have much sooner.

the moment you were adjusted to his size, your hips began to rock themselves against his. you moved slowly, carefully dragging whimper after whimper from the boy underneath you, who was currently staring at you with blown-out eyes.

you were a goddess to satoru—you had to be. the way you gently caressed his hair, the way you prepped small kisses on his face, the way you moved slowly so that satoru could preserve every roll of your hips.

right now, he wasn’t the “god” who shifted the balance of the world due to his birth. in this situation, you were.

satoru broke down crying, but what he admired the most about you was that you didn’t stop. long ago, he told you to keep going, that he’s okay because he wants this. and you listened to him, not daring to pause your movements.

the boy whispered something, but it was faint. you weren’t able to pick up a single word he tried to say, feeling bad for not being able to respond to him—solid proof that you’re listening. but satoru was too deep into this, and thanks to his constant babbling, you were able to hear his thoughts.

“d-don’t leave . . .” satoru whispered, a bit louder than last time. it was still uncharacteristically quiet for somebody like him, but you were lucky for this position to give you better access in order to hear him.

satoru sobbed this time, fingers digging into every inch of your skin that he could reach. at this point, he was basically dragging you down with him, and you weren’t even allowed to rise yourself anymore to properly ride him.

the strongest, for the first time in his life, was terrified. he was too shaken from the events earlier, and the thought of you following the same path as suguru made him shake in terror. he couldn’t let you leave, not now.

“p-please don’t leave!” satoru wailed, “n-not you! anyone but you! i-i can’t—” his sobs continued on, and on for quite a while, and your hands ended up cupping his tear-stained red cheeks.

“i’m not leaving. you know i won’t . . .” you whisper. one of satoru’s hands flew to yours, weakly interlocking his pinky with yours.

satoru sniffed, “promise?” he could only choke out much, his throat raw from the previous breakdown—not like he cared either way, he was just too tired to try to get his voice to work normally. you nodded, “promise.”

that’s all it took to make satoru’s grip on your skin loose. he no longer held onto your shoulder with a death grip like you were to get up and leave, no. he allowed you to move after you made your promise of not leaving him.

satoru had to choke up another sob when your hand moved to catch his, bringing it up to your lips. you took your time with the kisses, making sure to leave no place untouched.

his knuckles were white from the grip he had on the sheets, or maybe even your skin earlier. you weren’t sure which one was it, since both of them were pretty brutal and made the skin over his bones look paler than usual.

when your lips moved to his palm, you noticed a fresh open cut. the wound held a shape of thin lines that looked almost way too familiar to his fingernails. you took a mental note to ask about it later—once he’s mentally ready.

you placed the last kiss on the nail on his middle finger that held an unhealthy color due to being squeezed for too long. whatever happened with him and suguru, if satoru thought about using that technique, it must have been serious.

satoru was too deep in his thoughts by the time your hips started to move again. the feeling of your slow movements made his eyes roll back to the back of his skull. he thought you being rough with him would be the best option for his brain to shut down—but once tasting the gentleness from your slow pace, satoru chose a winner.

“you’re doing so good, pretty boy. keep breathing through your nose,” you praise him, knowing it will catch his full attention before taking the opportunity to remind him to breathe properly, not wanting his sobbing mess to catch another near panic attack.

satoru blinks up at you through those long, white eyelashes that are soaked and stuck together with his tears. his blue eyes look majestic—they always do, but now, they are just so pretty and glossy from the salty liquid on his waterline.

every time your hips rose before slamming down, the tears threatened to escape. whatever it was rolling down his red cheeks or falling on his thighs, satoru struggled to keep them stay in place.

“i-i tried to stop him—” you carefully listened to his words as he did his best to speak through his heavy breathing of his incoming orgasm, “i really did! b-but he—oh god!” his words were cut where you sped up the pace.

“you did well,” you whisper, being gentle as ever when placing a soft kiss near his ear. “i don’t really know what happened between the two of you,” you admit, ignoring satoru’s high-pitched noises as he began to claw at your skin when his tummy begins to flex again.

“but i know you did a fucking good job,” you finish, and he does too. satoru screams into your shoulder that had been marked with his well-kept nails, sobbing along his release. you kept stroking his hair, feeling his cum fill you up.

the milky ring appears soon enough, and your hips finally come to a stop. satoru didn’t complain this time, letting you coo at him and whisper sweet nothing’s into his ear. telling him what a “good boy” he was, and how he “took it so well”

he didn’t feel so miserable now. the memory of suguru’s back turned to him as he walked out of his life will never leave his mind. it will never not haunt him everywhere he goes—the burning feeling inside his chest will forever stay.

but somehow, he couldn’t think about it when your gentle touches were pulling him to cloud nine. the way your hand caressed his thighs while the other one dragged the wet towel to clean up the mess you two made while his head was gently placed upon your pillow gave him butterflies.

the lipgloss he always wore was dried out now, making the skin feel weird and wobbly. but satoru found the strength to tear his lips apart and say what he wanted you to know.

“[name] . . .” satoru whispered softly, “thank you.”

A Christmas Fix — 02 (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, morning sickness, surprise babies, miscommunication, profanities/swearing, fake dating trope on the side, minor body insecurities (implied), fight scene, 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, pregnant sex, fingering (F), oral sex (F), clit play, breast play, stripping, biting, minor hand job/groping, grinding, masturbation (M, F), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, implied pain kink, praise kink, body worship, marking, multiple orgasms (M, F), overstimulation.

⟶ Word count | 29,410 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: February 1st, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Author Notes | And we're finally at the end. Thank you so much for everyone who has read part 1, and those of you who have been so patient with me. I'm sorry I had to wait for a day to post this. I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the journey to see how this story ends :)

⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: ⤎ previous chapter

⟶ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi

⟶ Read on AO3

The house has been quiet all morning. 

There is only one day left before Christmas Eve, and everyone has been busy for the past couple of days. Your mother and Honey are hosting the Christmas Eve’s family dinner this year, with close relatives from their side of the family joining in, so everyone has been busy going around and about to prepare for it. 

After days filled with all the bustling activities, it feels like you finally have some downtime. With both of your parents gone—your mother is out with Honey to shop for a couple of necessities needed for the event, and your stepfather out doing some errands, assisted by Taehyung in place of Hansol—it feels like you can finally breathe easy. 

While the pre-Christmas rush helped smother the loud thinking constantly happening inside your head, the silence that you are experiencing now feels comforting. The underlying tension that is also present, however, isn’t so much. 

When you agreed to stay home and help out with the rest of the Christmas baking still needed to be done, you didn’t expect that Alia had volunteered to stay behind and help too. So you have been using this silence as a protective shield. 

Almost an hour has passed since the two of you started getting busy in the kitchen. No meaningful conversation has been shared so far, aside from the times you had to talk through the recipes together or talking about passing things over. The only sounds that are keeping you company are the occasional sounds of kitchenware hitting the counter, the shuffling sounds coming from both you and Alia as you move around the kitchen, and the burning oven behind your back. 

Slowly, you are beginning to enjoy this routine, finding calmness in the steady rhythm of baking and cooking which helps quiet the voices in your head. Too bad it doesn’t last long enough for you to relish it when Alia suddenly speaks, bringing up something other than the task in your hand for a change. 

“I’ve been wondering for a while, but you look like you had a rough night. Is your stomach still bothering you?” she asks, breaking the silence. 

To say that you are caught off-guard seems like an understatement. And you have no idea how to respond to her question. For her to suddenly ask something personal is completely unexpected. 

It’s not that the two of you never had an actual conversation with one another like a pair of normal human beings. It’s just she never seemed to truly care or have any interest in getting to know about you other than the stories shared at family dinners with your parents around. 

It’s making it even harder to answer when you have this underlying guilt brewing inside you. A feeling that comes from hiding a secret that keeps getting heavier to carry. And you are afraid that the moment you open your mouth to speak, they will all come spilling out of you. 

You wish you could just lie to her face. Tell her that everything is fine so you can continue working in silence. 

But when you look up and actually look at her, she seems—genuine, in her concern, and almost as much with her curiosity. 

But there is no malice or pretence in her question that you find yourself reaching out to accept the olive branch that she is offering you and answer, “It’s—okay. I mean, it’s been pretty rough the past few nights. I think it’s because of the lack of sleep I’ve been getting.” 

And you’re not completely lying. Because the past couple of nights have been rough. But you couldn’t possibly explain to her why.

Alia scrunches her nose, oblivious to this. “I heard from Honey that you get this way when you’re stressed out. Has work been stressful for you lately? I mean, with your latest work promotion, I can only imagine that you’ve only gotten busier lately.” 

You purse your lips and avoid her gaze, once again biting back the secret that is threatening to slip out. 

“Maybe—” you start to answer, “I haven’t been eating well, and I’ve messed up my sleeping schedule so bad lately, that it’s been hard to fix it even when I’m home. I’ve been having trouble sleeping, and I woke up with a headache this morning.” 

Alia frowns. “Have you been taking meds? I have some vitamins that may help you sleep better. I’ve been taking them lately to—” 

Thinking about taking vitamins makes you cringe. The doctor’s warnings come floating through your mind—reminding you that you should be wary of the medicines and vitamins to take, as they may not be safe enough for the baby in your belly, her warning about keeping your stress level low, and her reminder of watching over your diet at the beginning of your pregnancy. 

“No, it’s fine. I don’t usually take medicines or vitamins to help me sleep,” you gently refuse. Even without your doctor’s warnings, you know that nothing could really help you with your sleeping problems. 

Because the truth is, your nausea and ‘stomach bug‘ haven’t been the sole reason why you have been having trouble sleeping as of late. 

It was Taehyung. 

Ever since you came across Taehyung that night in the hallway, memories from the night of your wild hookup have been coming back to you. They have been haunting you at night, whether you were sitting in bed wide awake or when you were deep in your restless sleep. 

When sleep failed you, you would be left spending long hours recounting every action and every conversation that you could remember. Every single detail had been coming back to you in bits and pieces jumbling together, and you would spend the next long hours trying to piece everything together. You went through it all to answer the resounding questions that are still messing up with your mind. 

How many times did we do it that night? 

More than twice, for sure, you recall each time you try to look back. Was it three, or four times? 

You remember feeling sore and tired the next day, yet you were content enough to sleep the whole flight away towards your dream vacation with your whole body humming with the waning pleasure. And while you weren’t completely drunk that night, you were surely tipsy enough that you were unable to memorise every single moment with a clear mind. 

But the biggest question that you have yet to answer—

He really did wear condoms that night, didn’t he? 

You remember watching him roll the condom down the length of his impressive cock. It wasn’t really a memory that you could easily erase, no matter how tipsy-minded you were that night. Not when the way he did it left you completely transfixed. 

For some reason, everything about the first intercourse you had with him remains vivid in your memory. Because it was the first time for you to ever feel that kind of pleasure. To feel wanton and free with someone who was willing to help you open up a part of you which had been locked and sheltered during the long period of time you spent in your past relationship. 

The second time always seems a bit blurry. But you can still recall waking up to his sinful lips devouring your sore pussy in the middle of the night. 

He claimed it as a way to make up for the rough and dominating way he took you the first time and the lack of foreplay. So he spoiled you by giving you pleasure through his mouth and tongue and the work of his fingers, before he fucked you gently, slowly, until you were arching into him and crying out his name once again as he helped you embrace your slow rising climax. 

And the third time—

“Um, earth to ________.” 

Alia’s sharp voice pulls you out of your dark thoughts. Her curiosity seems to grow more palpable, and so does the concerned look you see on her face. 

“Are you okay? Seriously, you don’t look so well. You keep spacing out today and now it’s like you’re burning up or something.” 

With a gasp, you reach up and touch your cheeks, quickly realising that she is right. You are burning up. Except that instead of burning from a fever, your body is growing hot from the inside for a different kind of reason. 

You are burning from being drowned in your dirty thoughts and recounting all the pleasure that you felt back then. To be thinking about all the wanton things that you shared with—

Your eyes fall open as you draw a shocked gasp. Realising too late that you are thinking about your stepsister’s new boyfriend while she is sitting right in front of you. Guilt pierces through your chest right at that moment, and you quickly rise from your seat. 

“Excuse me, I think I need to cool down a little bit. I’ll be right back,” you quickly say to her before slipping away from the kitchen without waiting for her response. 

Needing distance from Alia, you rush to your bedroom upstairs, finding solace in your safe space as you lock yourself in it. The feeling of shame washes over you. You can’t believe that you had allowed yourself to think of dark, sultry thoughts while you were sitting right across your stepsister. 

Worse yet, that doing so made you feel aroused. 

The same thing always happens each time you think back about that night. As if your body has memorised what your mind has failed to remember. Each memory of his touch brings back sparks on your skin, reigniting the same reaction that he managed to draw from you then. 

By the time you lie down on your bed, the heat in your body has spread all over the place. Even to the places that you didn’t expect to be affected, as it spreads down between your legs. 

At the same time, your skin seems to be humming with need. There is a desire that has been awakened simply by reliving that night in your thoughts, which would be impossible to quench. 

You close your eyes, and immediately feel as though you are under a spell. Your hands begin to move on their own, searching for the source of the heat rushing within your body. They continue travelling their way down, following the pulses that you feel emerging from your core. 

You slip one hand down your pants, reaching down until you feel skin. A gasp threatens to come out when the tips of your fingers are met with dampened skin. Just as expected, thinking about that night and the things you did with Taehyung then has made you wet. 

Your fingers tremble, and your heart starts pounding like crazy as you continue touching yourself. Slipping your fingers across your slit, you make use of the slickness that has formed to slide back and forth, playing with yourself until you feel only pleasure. A shudder erupts through you as you stroke your clit. 

You shouldn’t be doing this. But before you can stop yourself, an image of his face hovering right above you comes to you. In that moment, you are back to the night when you were with him. 

The fingers that are touching your hot center are no longer yours. They may not be the same size as his fingers, and not as firm, but your memory easily replaces your dainty digits with Taehyung’s longer and wider ones as you push them into your throbbing core. 

There is a voice in your head that keeps telling you how wrong for you to be doing this. How inappropriate for you to be thinking naughty thoughts about someone who isn’t yours and pleasuring yourself with it. 

But your body wouldn’t listen. 

Your hand continues to move, pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy while your hips push back against them. The pleasure rises, increasing quickly the faster you move your hand, the more you ride your fingers like an animal in heat. 

And you don’t stop until your orgasm starts building. It keeps growing stronger, until everything within you snaps. 

As you fall into bliss, his face is all you see. His voice is the one you hear instead of the soft, muffled moans coming out of your lips, whispering to you the same sweet soothing voice that he gave you that night while you were succumbing to pleasure. 

“Good girl. You’re amazing, Red. Rest up, and we’ll play again once you’re ready.” 

“I suppose this is what people call a Christmas miracle.” 

You start to roll your eyes before you remember that Skye wouldn’t be able to see it. For the past hour, you have been on the phone with your roommate while you were hiding from your family. 

Locked in the safety of your bedroom for the second time today because you still couldn’t get over the mortification that has fallen upon you after this morning’s blunder. 

Having your arousal slowly pooling between your legs by the mere thought of Taehyung and the sinful deed you shared with him seemed scandalous. Allowing it to happen while you were sitting right in front of his girlfriend, someone closely related to you, made you feel as if you were more deserving to be burned in hell rather than sharing the joy and laughter of Christmas. 

And instead of brushing those nasty thoughts away, you took it one step further by seeking pleasure with the touch of your fingers. With your head filled with thoughts of Taehyung and while your stepsister was waiting downstairs for you to return. 

Shame and guilt plagued you once you were done. And you were also too sated and tired to even function. But you couldn’t hide in your bedroom for long. Doing so would only cause people to grow suspicious of your behaviour, and you already gained enough unsolicited attention to let it happen. 

So after cleaning yourself up and wiping off any remnants of your misdeed, you put your big girl pants on and went back downstairs to finish the Christmas baking with your stepsister. This time, you kept to yourself more, avoiding as much conversation with Alia while you continued to pretend that nothing happened while you were away. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to be alone with her for far too long when everyone returned from their outing.

Masking your shame no longer became a struggle when you stopped being the main focus of the room. Everyone was busy with Christmas Eve’s preparation; your mother with the holiday decorations, your stepfather with his handiwork as he went out to fix the porch and the locks on the front door, while you and Alia remained in the kitchen to finish baking. 

Honey stayed nearby, as she sat at the kitchen counter, watching everyone doing their own thing while she was nursing a mug filled with steaming hot cocoa and sharing the most recent gossip about the old ladies living in her apartment complex. 

While all of this was happening around you, you were blessed with the absence of Taehyung, who was said to have gone back to the motel where he and Alia have been staying to finish some work before Christmas Day.

You didn’t question it, trying not to care too much about him and making use of him being gone to try and forget everything that had happened. 

But then lunchtime came, and he returned just in time to rejoin your family for the meal. Seeing his face again, hearing his voice, watching how your stepsister kept being all touchy feeling with her boyfriend and clinging to him all the time gave you an unpleasant feeling that you felt sick to the stomach. 

That was when you rushed back into your bedroom. You convinced yourself that you weren’t hiding from them. That you simply needed some time alone; alone with your thoughts, to gather your wits, and calm your nerves that had become unsettled during lunch while he was once again sitting right across the table, subtly watching you when others weren’t looking. 

But being alone with your thoughts hadn’t been quite helpful. 

Your mind kept wandering into places that you shouldn’t dare to visit. You needed someone to talk to. To vent and get everything out of your system. And Skye, who is currently on the other side of the country to be with her family, was the best option to call. 

And yet, after telling her everything that has happened and keeping her up to date with the latest developments, you are starting to regret calling her. 

“Do tell me why you, of all people, would call this catastrophe a miracle?” you ask her while pinching the bridge of your nose. Your head feels tense, although you are relieved that it has somehow stopped pounding after sharing all of the drama to your roommate through the phone call. 

You can hear the subtle sound of her humming to herself, contemplating her answer. “I mean, think about it. We already made an elaborate plan to track him down, to the point that we nearly booked a ticket to go back to the place where your flight made a stop for transit in case we can’t easily find him,” she says with the same no-nonsense tone of voice that she always uses when she is laying out all of the facts, “and then he suddenly appears, right at your family’s home, as if saying ‘Here I am, look no further’.” 

She laughs, and you can picture her shaking her head when she adds, “Tell me that’s not a miracle.” 

Instead of answering her, you only bite your lips. It does sound almost too good to be true. Except for the one simple fact that is impossible to ignore. “You’re forgetting the fact that he’s here as Alia’s plus one. I’d say it’s a curse, instead of a miracle.” 

You can her chuckling bitterly on the other side of the phone. “And once again, I’m going to say that I don’t envy you.” 

You let out a groan as you fall back on the bed. “This isn’t funny.” 

“I know, sweetie,” she says, comforting you with a sigh. “It’s just so absurd to think about all the coincidences happening around this baby business.” 

You close your eyes, hating the fact that she’s right. There are too many coincidences happening around you, and it’s astonishing to think that everything could come to this point. 

“Yeah, it does sound absurd.” 

“I’m just sad I’m not there to witness it,” she says, laughing, while you barely have the energy to scoff at her. 

For the longest time, Skye has always been the one you turn to whenever you need someone to vent about your ordeal with your stepsister. But compared to the other times you clashed against Alia, this one surely takes the cake.

“You haven’t told him about the baby, have you?” 

You wince. “No,” you answer with s sigh. “I can’t think of a way to do it.” 

And you have been avoiding being in the same room with him to even have the chance to talk about it. Not that you would have found that chance anyway if you did, as Alia has always been by his side. You suddenly remember the way Alia suddenly sidled to his side when he was alone at a time, making a complete show about her doting on him.

Grimacing, you shake the image out of your head. “I’ve thought of different scenarios involving me talking to him and revealing about my pregnancy, but everything has changed now that Alia is involved in this.” 

Skye grows silent for a moment. “Just tell him,” she says. Her voice softens, which only means that she is being serious about this. “The sooner the better, even more so because he is involved with Alia. It’s better to let him know now rather than later, once they’ve been dating longer and the baby is here.” 

You bite your lips again, refraining to tell her that you had thought about the same thing. “He did say he wanted to talk—” 

But he never made it clear what he wanted to talk about. What is there to talk about if he still has no clue about the baby? Is he trying to convince you again not to let Alia know about your past hookup? How would that work if you’re having a baby together from that hookup? 

You hate to admit it, but being kept as a secret feels—painful. 

“Well—” Skye hesitantly says, “It’s not like you’re planning to have an actual relationship with him, right?” 

Her question makes your stomach drop. Have you ever really had any hope of having a relationship with him, just because you are expecting a baby with him? 

Thinking back to the night of your hookup makes you look back and relive the emotions that you felt that night. You are sure that you felt a connection with him that night. A connection that you never felt before with anyone else. It felt real, yet you denied it simply because neither of you had been using your true identities when you climbed on that bed together. It had seemed to you that both of you had only wanted that night to be a one-time thing. 

The sparks you felt with him had also been real, and you are quite sure that you felt them again the last time you were alone with him in that hallway, when he confronted you after the first family dinner that you shared with him. Sometimes, you can also feel that same sparks coming back whenever he is in the room, no matter how far away you try to distance yourself from him.

Could it be that somewhere along the line, you had unknowingly harboured hope that you could be together again? When did this happen? 

Or did having his baby growing inside you make you think that you could somehow build something real with him, to develop the connection that you felt that night into something else entirely? 

Is that why seeing him with Alia has been bothering you so much? Not only because you are hiding this secret, but also because nothing can come out of it once you come clean to him? 

Not for the first time today, you feel like you’re about to throw up. 

You only had one night with him. You keep reminding yourself this, hoping that it will be able to snap you out of the silly illusion that you had allowed your mind to possess. 

“No, I just want him to know about the baby,” you answer weakly, hoping that voicing this promise out loud would help put an end to your wishful thinking. To stop it before it gets too far. 

“But having this baby with me while he’s dating my stepsister will complicate things. And things are already complicated between me and Alia.” 

“Right,” Skye sighs on the phone. Knowing exactly what you mean without you having to say it out loud. 

Over the years, Skye had both witnessed and heard every single spectacle that had become a major part of your relationship with Alia. You can tell that she understands what to expect once this thing blows up. 

“You’re right. I can’t imagine how she’ll react,” you hear her say, before releasing an overly dramatic sigh, and you immediately know where this is going. “Maybe she wouldn’t have hated you so much if you didn’t break that doll of hers when you were a kid.”

You scream into the pillows while she laughs historically on the phone. “Why do you have to bring that up?” you groan, hating yourself for sharing this with her during one of your late-night drinking fests. “Out of all the ludicrous things I shared with you, that’s the one crossing your mind right now?”

“Hey, you were the one who brought it up first. How would you know that it wasn’t true?” 

“How could you possibly remember that when I barely could?” you whine out loud. 

One drunken night was all it took for you to disclose the severity of your childhood crime. Even if you barely remember the details of it. Thankfully, your roommate had been the only witness to listen to your drunk confession. 

“It was an accident that happened ages ago, and I already told you that she couldn’t have possibly started resenting me for years because of that ugly doll.”

Because it sounds ridiculous if you think about it with a sober mind. And you refuse to believe the disdain that Alia has shown you for years had all stemmed from the small incident that happened when you were a child. 

At nine years old, your small family—originally consisting only of you, your mother, and your sweet grandmother, Honey—suddenly expanded. Everything changed for you the day your stepfather, Cliff, came into the picture. Not only did he fill the void that was left behind by your late father, but he also brought with him another girl, and you suddenly had an older sister to play with and to look up to. 

A few years older than you, Alia appeared in your eyes like the coolest kid you have ever met. Beautiful, smart, witty, though she could act a bit snobbish whenever you tried to play with her, yet she still shared her bedroom, her toys, and sometimes her collection of dolls. 

One sleepover, a pair of clumsy little hands, and a ripped old doll later, everything turned the other way around. It happened so long ago that you eventually forgot about it. As Alia entered high school, she rarely came to visit her father, and the incident was simply overlooked with all the other things happening in your life soon after.

The moment she came back into the picture, Alia began acting differently towards you and your relationship was quick to turn dreary. 

Forced smiles and tensed, courteous chats. The hard and solemn look coming through her eyes that she would always reserve for you when others weren’t looking, always at the times when you earned everyone’s attention or when you accomplished something good in life. Plotting schemes by arranging her own agendas to match the significant moments of your lifetime—graduation days, birthdays, anniversaries—oftentimes forcing Cliff to have to choose between being there for you or to be by his biological daughter’s side, while mostly finding excuses to miss out on your important dates altogether. 

After another incident where she caused another drama back home years ago, you came back to your apartment with an opened bottle of tequila and spent the night drunk-venting with Skye. 

Somehow, as you drunkenly wondered why your stepsister would treat you with so much disdain, that small incident from a long time ago came back to mind. And that moment, it seemed that your subconscious linked the incident with the way she treated you years after, and you let it slip to Skye for her to later make it a running joke between the two of you whenever you came to vent about your stepsister drama. 

But really now…all of that hate and drama over a doll?

As if that would justify the way she has been treating you for years. It also makes you wonder if last year’s incident had anything to do with that as well. 

Shaking your head, you hate to think of what kind of hell she will be giving you once she finds out that you are carrying a baby from the man she’s been flaunting around since the day she came home. 

You shudder at the mere thought of it. 

“You know that my offer still stands, right?” Skye suddenly questions you, much to your relief, as she changes the topic right before your head begins to ache again. “If things get too hard or if he wants nothing to do with the baby, or if he mistreats you at all after knowing that he got you pregnant, we can still run away and raise the baby together. Maybe Europe is a bit too far, and too cold for me, so how about Australia?” 

Unprepared to hear her comment, you immediately erupt into laughter. Like always, your best friend knows how to ease your mind. The tension that comes from the stress is lifted, and so are your worries. 

It doesn’t change the fact that you are still going to have to face the music the moment you are given the chance to, but at least you are starting to see some light waiting at the end of this. 

“Running away sounds awfully tempting right now, I’m not going to lie,” you murmur into the call, knowing that Skye can hear you perfectly. But she wouldn’t be able to see it as you rise from your bed and reach out to the beside table, picking up the sonogram which you had gotten right before you left for home. 

Running away does sound tempting. But it is not the choice that you can make. And you won’t. 

You are going to have that talk with Taehyung and tell him everything. Soon. You just need to be ready to face his reaction and the consequences of what the truth might bring. 

As much as you kept telling yourself to prioritise finding the chance to speak to Taehyung, all of your bravado simply vanished by the time you rejoined your family for dinner. 

Sitting down at dinner, once again taking the front row seat to watch Alia making a good show of being the doting girlfriend, as she kept clinging onto Taehyung while he was trying to keep his composure in front of you, you felt suffocated. 

And you couldn’t escape it. 

You had done it once, masking your discomfort with your sickness. And then doing it again a couple of more times under various excuses while everyone was spending time together.

Despite feeling like you wanted to run away, you were running out of excuses and there was nowhere for you to hide. Even once dinner is over, your attempt to escape unnoticed quickly fails when Taehyung finds you first. 

“What are you up to now?” you nearly snap at him as Taehyung slips into view, intercepting you when you are about to slip past the backdoor, hoping to get some fresh air. 

Pursing his lips, he hides his smile and shrugs. “Nothing, just trying to see what you’ve been up to.” 

You squint your eyes at him, finding him suspicious. “Does Alia even know you’re here? Cornering me instead of chaperoning her out there?” 

As you cross your arms over your chest, challenging him with your question, Taehyung simply stares at you with an amused look in his eyes. “You know, everyone is in the living room and they’re wondering where you are. Honey is about to make a show of making that rum cocktail that she was bragging about at dinner.” 

An overwhelming feeling of craving and queasiness comes over you as you picture Honey and her rum cocktails that you would normally enjoy during the holidays. You swallow the tightness in your throat and force a smile. “So you offered to look for me?” 

Taehyung grins, making it seem like he has no fault whatsoever for being where he shouldn’t be. “I’m currently free, so why not?” 

You scoff at him and shake your head when you fail to hide your smile. “Yeah, well. I doubt that they’ll be missing me.” 

There’s already Alia in the room with them to steal the show and everyone’s attention anyway, you silently wonder. 

And yours. 

Surprisingly, a frown forms on his face upon hearing this. “That’s where you’re wrong. Honey kept asking for you. Said something about making a special recipe for your, um…stomach bug,” he says with a small smile, and then lowers his voice to add, “and I also wondered why you weren’t there.” 

Your heart makes a sudden leap inside your chest. “Thank you for caring,” you say to him with a sarcastic tone of voice, trying not to look deeper into it or feel to happy about him looking for you. 

Having the flutter in your chest gives you more reason to walk away. “Please tell Honey I’m sorry that I can’t join her tonight. I’m not feeling up to it.” 

“Are you sure?” he asks before you can get away. “I remember that you enjoyed drinking sweet cocktails the last time we met. With how Honey kept bragging about it, I’m a bit curious to try the drinks she’s making. Don’t you? 

Of course, you would be interested, you wonder. But I can’t possibly drink whatever it is that Honey is concocting, even if I feel like I need a glass of whatever she is offering.

But he doesn’t need to know that yet—or should he? 

Suddenly, you start doubting yourself. You can feel the words hanging by the tip of your tongue already, the urge to spill everything to him right this moment grows so strongly as you look at his smug face. 

So what if he wanted to wait until the time is right to talk? When is the right time to talk about this? 

You take a quick glance around, noticing that you are all alone with him. This would be the perfect chance to tell him about the pregnancy, wouldn’t it?

“Maybe her cocktail can help you feel more at ease and less—tense,” he suddenly adds with a hint of a teasing tone in his voice that rubs you the wrong way, taking away every good will you ever have of talking to him properly about your ordeal. 

“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve dinner. There’s going to be enough drinking then,” you say to him while gritting your teeth. But you know that it would be highly unlikely that you are going to drink even then. 

You realise that you will have to find more excuses tomorrow to avoid any alcoholic drinks being passed onto your hands. But you can figure that out later. You first need to figure out how to share him the news. 

“You should go back. Alia would be looking for you by now,” you say to him with a bite while avoiding his eyes as you try to walk around him, yet he stops you from running away again. 

This time, he isn’t using his words. 

Your entire body freezes as he catches your wrist. Once he knows that he has gotten you right where he wants you to, he starts pulling you gently back to him. You look up at his face, surprised that he would do something so daring when he was the one who had been so adamant about keeping your history with him a secret. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, yet you don’t make a move to pull away. You throw a quick glance towards the hallway leading to the living room, worrying that someone might suddenly show up. “Are you crazy? What if someone comes here?” 

Taehyung steps closer until you can feel his warmth engulfing you. He only stops once his chest is merely a few inches away from yours. His move seems menacing, and so does the look in his eyes as he looks at your face. 

Those are the same eyes that had been looking back at you that night. You get to see the same look you saw then. Passionate. Enthralling. He grounds you with nowhere else to go even without having to restrain you to him, only refraining you from escaping him with nothing more but the look in his eyes. 

Suddenly, the room feels tight. As though there is not enough air in your chest for you to breathe, much less to speak. And he is getting too close for comfort. 

His hold on your wrist loosens, yet he doesn’t pull away. The dark look in his eyes also wanes, and he looks almost as if he is in pain when he leans down, getting even closer until your faces are almost touching each other. 

“Is it making you feel uneasy that I’m around? Is that why you keep running away from me when I’m there?” he questions you with a voice so soft that you would have missed it if he hasn’t been this close, with his lips hovering close to yours. 

So close that you can almost feel his kiss, even without touching. Each word he murmurs to you sends your skin shivering, while the cavities inside your chest seem to tighten on themselves when he whispers, “You might be able to ignore it and pretend nothing happened, but I can’t.” 

You take a sharp inhale of breath. What is he saying right now? 

Suddenly, you feel as if you have just walked into a dream. The same feeling that you had that night returns to you; all the sparks that seem to be floating in the air around you; the way your head seems to be in a haze, as if his entire presence is intoxicating you. 

And his words are making your head spin. 

Once again, you feel as if you are under his spell. But at the same time, you feel irritated at him for doing this. For choosing to act like this now, when he was just holding hands with your stepsister just moments ago.

While your irritation lights up, he rubs his thumb across your wrist, and the sparks explode around you like fireworks. “Tell me you’re not feeling it too.” 

And just like that, his voice snaps you right out of the spell that he placed on you. Closing your eyes, you suck a deep breath and try to compose yourself. 

“This isn’t right. Alia is in the next room,” you grit your teeth. You open your eyes and glare at him. “You were the one who told me not to tell Alia about us. Was that not your way of telling me to forget everything?” 

Taehyung’s eyes grow wide and he slowly pulls back. To his credit, his face is filled with shame when you remind him of his own words. 

Leaning closer, you whisper to him, doing your best to keep your voice from shaking when you question him, “Or do you make it a habit of jumping from one woman to another as long as it’s convenient for you?” 

He winces. Once again, he looks pained after hearing your accusation. “We’re going to talk. Once the time is right,” he whispers. He clenches his jaw, looking tense for a moment until he lets everything go with a sigh. “But you need to stop avoiding me.” 

You rear back, not expecting to find that he has noticed that you have been deliberately keeping your distance. 

How are you going to explain to him the reason why you can’t possibly stay in the same room with him? 

For you, the reason is quite obvious. You are still feeling it now, when your skin feels tight and your chest grows warm the longer you are in close proximity to him. Even when you entered a room once he left, you could still feel his presence lingering around you, and it was starting to drive you insane. 

And yes, seeing him with Alia bothers you so much that you can never bear being there to witness it.

After your last conversation where he made it seem like he wanted to move on and forget everything, you thought that he would only notice Alia and wouldn’t care to notice your predicament. But obviously, he isn’t completely oblivious to your turmoil. 

“I’m not avoiding you,” you insist. 

Taehyung raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure?” he questions you with an accusing tone. “I don’t think I imagined it when I saw you turning away and running out of the room whenever I came in.” 

He is right, and you find it impossible to lie about it when you barely tried to hide it.

Tired of holding out the truth, you finally admit to him with a small voice, “No, you’re not imagining things. Do you really think it’s fun for me to watch you both together with Alia getting all over you the entire time you’re here?” 

The light in his eyes dims. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—” he sighs, “I’ll talk to her so she can tone it down.”

You shake your head and chuckle bitterly. “Don’t bother. She’s your girlfriend. I’ll be out of here right after Christmas anyway.” 

This makes him frown. “Look, ______,” he starts, but you are too exhausted to deal with this right now to listen.

“I have to go,” you whisper as you pull your hand away. “We’ll have that talk—” 

Because there are a lot of things that I need to tell you.

“And then I’m gone and you can go back to Alia with her family thing on Christmas Day. But tomorrow night, we talk. Right after the family dinner.” 

Not bothering to wait for his response, you turn and walk away, once again leaving him behind in that dimly lit hallway as you search for solace, somewhere far, far away from him. 

Taehyung has been restless. 

He has been feeling uneasy for days. The truth is, it has been like this for him since the moment he stepped foot into Alia’s father’s house and saw you standing there. It has been a struggle to hide it and keep everything in. But last night, after talking to you again, the urge to speak to you about everything and explain himself has been growing even stronger. 

The look that you gave him when he first saw you has been haunting him, weighing him with guilt. Ever since that night six weeks ago, he has kept your smile deeply ingrained in his memory; the coy smile that you gave him as you flirted with him at the bar; the sultry look you wore when you clung onto him at the elevator while testing his limits with your lips tracing his neck; the content smile that he saw on your face the morning after the long, passionate night he shared with you before he took you again one last time. 

And yet, the smile that he kept wishing to see again for the past month was not there when he finally met you again. The expression that he has yearned to see had been replaced with shock, as you stood there looking like a deer caught in the headlights, while at the same time, you also seemed as if you had just witnessed someone kicking your puppy. 

Which was quite understandable, looking back at it now. It must have been a complete shock for you to see him entering your home, holding Alia’s hand and introducing himself as her boyfriend. Just as shocking it was for him to find out that you are Alia’s stepsister.

Fuck, how did things get so messed up?

”You’re not ready yet.”

Taehyung has been so out of it when he enters the motel’s bedroom that he fails to notice Alia watching him. Sitting right in front of the dressing table, she barely gives him a glance as she is busy putting on her makeup and doing her hair for the night. 

Normally, she doesn’t take this much time getting ready. But Taehyung understands that tonight is different. 

According to Alia, the family’s Christmas Eve dinner is a small annual gathering that is quite important for them. Held on behalf of Honey, who often spends the holiday with Cliff’s side of the family. It is when family members and second cousins would come to her Dad’s house to celebrate both the holidays and Honey’s good health. 

Ever since early this morning, Alia has been saying how she needs to look as her best self tonight—spoken in her own words—because she wants to make a good impression on her stepmother’s family. The only problem was that she also made it clear that she wanted Taehyung to play his role as her boyfriend perfectly, to continue to show that they have a great relationship right in front of everyone, just the same way he has been doing it for the past few days. 

It shouldn’t be bothering him so much that she would ask him to do this. Since that was the main reason why he is here in the first place. 

The original plan had been simple. All he had to do this holiday was to accompany Alia on her trip home to see her family. The family gathering from her mother’s side has always been so stressful, and he simply wanted to help her lessen the pressure so she could enjoy the holidays for once. 

Yet her mother’s special Christmas gathering tomorrow had not been the only thing that was bothering Alia before this holiday came around. Once Taehyung agreed to be her plus one, she extended her desperate plea for help by asking him to come with her as she spends Christmas and the upcoming days to it with her father’s family before heading to see her mother.  

He can’t remember well what Alia told him about having to be here. He understood the reason when it came to her mother, but he barely knew anything about her father’s family. He remembers her talking about something that had to do with clearing her name. Obviously, he should’ve paid more attention, and maybe he should’ve taken the time to know more about Cliff’s family. 

Not that it matters now. When he has travelled all the way here for this, and now he is stuck in this mess without having any clue how to fix it.   

“Taehyung?” 

Taehyung blinks. “What?” 

Alia doesn’t say a thing at first. For a moment, Taehyung wonders if she notices anything when she tilts her head at him, finally looking directly at him as if she is trying to read him. 

Yet he is proven wrong when Alia merely sighs. “I just said that you need to get ready,” Alia says, unaware of the battle happening inside Taehyung’s mind. Before he can say a thing, Alia averts her gaze and looks back at the mirror as if she is trying to solve a puzzle. “You need to look your best if you’re going to stay beside me and we’re going to be late if you’re not moving it.”  

Chuckling to himself, Taehyung walks over to stand right behind her. With his face appearing in the mirror, she has no choice but to look at him. “Should I wear my best suit tonight, then?” he taunts her as he leans down, breathing in her perfume that is a bit too extravagant to his liking. 

I was right, this perfume is nowhere near my taste, he says to himself, while he silently recalls breathing in your perfume and thinking just how much it suited you.

Alia looks up at him through the mirror and rolls her eyes. “You can wear whatever. A suit would be too much, since we’re having the dinner at home, not at some fancy and way too expensive restaurant like how my Mom would have it. You did bring your suit, didn’t you? Wear that at my Mom’s party tomorrow,” Alia instructs him, and for some reason, it doesn’t make him feel good about it.

Usually, he wouldn’t take it to heart and just laugh it off when she acts this bossy around him. Not this time, however. The entire situation has made him grow a bit resentful to her, something that he has been realising for a while now, even if it isn’t fair for her to be treated this way when it wasn’t really her fault. 

Alia keeps her eyes on the mirror when she continues to speak to him. “Wear that black jacket that you love so much. You always look good in it,” she says, flickering her gaze in a teasing way when she adds, “Even I would swoon when I see you wearing it, and that doesn’t happen a lot.” 

Taehyung scoffs at Alia and lowers his head to avoid her gaze. The black jacket brings back a lot of memories. He didn’t think much of it when he brought it with him on this trip, but maybe a part of him already felt that he would be needing it. 

Would it be okay to wear it tonight, right in front of her?

“Are you okay?” Alia’s voice snaps him out of his musings. As he looks up to meet her gaze through the mirror, she surprises him by not only softening her voice, but looking as if she is worried about him. “You know, you don’t seem like yourself lately.” 

How nice of you to notice, Taehyung wonders to himself but bites his tongue so he wouldn’t let those words slip. He has been wondering for a while now just how she could remain oblivious to everything that has been happening around her. 

If only she would notice how uncomfortable he feels whenever she clings to him, or how their act in front of her family bothers you so much. 

Maybe she does notice it, he muses. Maybe she’s been doing it on purpose by pushing it on him. Does it have to do with—

Before Taehyung could finish his own thoughts, Alia seems to have enough of his silence and turns on her seat to look at him straight in the eyes. 

“What is it? Spill.” 

Taehyung only continues to remain silent, having no idea how to answer that question or if he should try to. Even if he can explain himself, where should he even start? 

Is this the part where he needs to tell her that her stepsister—the reason why Alia decided to come to see her Dad after spending weeks complaining that she didn’t have any desire to, and also the reason why she is trying so damn hard to impress everyone this holiday, even to the point of bringing Taehyung home to meet her family—was his last sex partner? 

“You need to tell her.” 

Taehyung closes his eyes as your voice echoes through his head, as if you are the voice of his conscience. 

You were right. He needs to tell Alia about his connection to you. But knowing her mood swings, and the reason why she has been trying to be ‘perfect’ the entire time she was spending time with Cliff’s family, he was hoping that he could postpone talking to her about it until tonight’s big family dinner is done. 

An event that Alia claimed to be more important for her than her mother’s fancy family gathering. 

No, I need to talk to her first, he decides. Maybe we could figure something out once she knows everything. 

“Nothing. I’m just overwhelmed. You didn’t tell me—” he stops himself as he almost let it slip that it was your presence that bothers him. 

You didn’t tell me anything about your stepsister. 

He keeps those words to himself. But he makes a mental note to bring it up once he gets back to her again by the end of the night to have a different kind of conversation to the one he is having with you. “So, black jacket, huh? Got it.” 

“Good, now go get ready and make it quick. The trip from here back to Dad’s house will take some time,” Alia says with a sigh as she turns back to the mirror, her concern is quick to vanish as she proceeds to complain, “We could’ve spared that trip if you hadn’t insisted that we stay in this motel instead of using the guest room like me and my Dad suggested.” 

“I already told you,” Taehyung says with a deep chuckle, leaning back down again to whisper, “I’m a terrible actor.” 

He straightens up while looking pleased with himself for drawing a frown on Alia’s face. “And being in your Dad’s house the entire time we’re here would cost me too much work. The gig would’ve been up before you know it.” 

“Fine, whatever. Just go,” Alia waves him off. 

Taehyung nods and makes his way to the door. He stops before he opens it and asks her, “Remember what I asked earlier?” 

Once again, Alia rolls her eyes at him. “Yeah, yeah, tone it down with the clingy girlfriend act. I get it. Now go get ready, we’re going to be late.” 

Taehyung breathes a sigh of relief to hear it. He can’t seem to forget the way the light in your eyes seemed to dim when you talked about the way he kept putting on the new couple act in front of you. On top of this whole mess, the last thing he wants is to leave you feeling hurt by his actions, so he made a deal with Alia to tone it down, even if he couldn’t explain to her the reason why. 

Pleased to know that Alia is listening to him for once, and that he has at least one problem handled before tonight, Taehyung leaves Alia’s motel room, closing the door behind him with a click before he goes to his own room to get ready.

You turn to your side and have a good look at yourself in the mirror. On instinct, your hands run down your belly, pressing down gently at the spot where the baby should be. 

The knitted dress that you have chosen to wear tonight may not be the fanciest one, but it is the one that feels comfortable on your skin. It isn’t tight enough on your body to make you feel self-conscious about yourself and definitely not enough to show the changes happening in your body. 

With just over six weeks of gestation, the baby bump isn’t showing that much yet. But you can still feel the way your body is changing. Perhaps it is all happening in your mind, only from knowing that you are keeping a living being inside you, but you can almost see it when you look at yourself in the mirror that you cannot help but try to do anything you can to hide it from your family. 

For now, at least. Only until you are ready to reveal everything to them. 

Thinking about this only makes you grow more anxious. You have been feeling this way since morning, all for the thought of having to face Taehyung again, and to finally talk about everything that is needed to be said before the night ends. 

“Tonight,” you tell yourself as you straighten up to look at your reflection in the mirror for one last time. “I’m going to tell him about the baby tonight.” 

Tonight will be the only chance you will ever have to talk to him, after all.  

Tomorrow, Taehyung will join Alia to visit her birth mother. Alia’s mother has always held a massive luncheon or dinner event on Christmas Day that Alia would be required to attend, so you doubt that she would miss it this year, even if you had always overheard her complaining about it to your stepfather.  

Every year, Alia would always prioritise her mother’s family event over her father’s during the holiday season. Coming from a wealthy family, Alia’s mother had always appeared to you like a different breed. Her holiday parties had always been so fancy, almost too extravagant compared to your family’s simple ones. 

Every year, Alia would focus on preparing for those events, always stressing about it before going, and barely focusing on her days spent with her father and his family that it did come as a surprise to you when she came early this year to join your family and to even get herself involved. 

Perhaps that was the reason why she had decided to bring a date with her this time around, and to introduce her boyfriend to the family like you did with your ex. 

Shaking the thoughts of Alia out of your mind, you finish getting ready and walk over to your purse. With gentle fingers, you pull out the sonogram that you had printed during your latest trip to the doctor. 

Holding it up under the light, you brush your fingertips across the blurry image of your growing baby. Sometimes it is still hard for you to process the fact that you are carrying a human child within you. Even through the nausea, the cravings, the lethargy, and any other peculiar things that have become parts of your life as of late, you still have a hard time grasping this fact. 

But this sonogram shows you the undeniable proof that the baby is there. You had even gotten the chance to hear the baby’s faint heartbeat on your last appointment, making it clear that you are carrying a life inside you. 

A life that seems so fragile, that you have developed a strong urge to protect it from the world. Even from its father, if he ever tries to deny or reject it. 

“It’s going to be okay,” you whisper to yourself while brushing your fingers on the picture again, speaking of it like a mantra. At the same time, it also feels as if you are talking to your baby, soothing it like you would if the baby is here with you. “Everything’s going to be okay. Let’s just get through tonight first.” 

For a moment, you contemplate between carrying the sonogram with you or to leave it here. With no purse or a pocket to hide it in, you finally decide to leave it on top of the bedside table until you are ready to show it to Taehyung later tonight. 

With one last look at the mirror, you rub your palms down your dress and give yourself the final pep talk before heading out. “Let’s go,” you whisper to yourself as you walk out of your bedroom, strengthening your shoulders and keeping your chin up as you prepare yourself to face the inevitable.

It’s finally Christmas Eve. 

The holiday spirit hasn’t completely sunk in on you until you finally sat down at the table for the annual Christmas dinner, surrounded by your immediate family and the family members that you haven’t met for a period of time while you have been pursuing your dreams away in the city. 

Outside, the temperature has dropped down even lower than before. The layer of snow that your stepfather had spent hours shovelling away are piling up with fresh ones as snowflakes keep falling from the evening sky, while the windows would tremble once or twice with the flowing breeze that seemed to have picked up as the day turned into evening. 

Inside, however, the warmth of the festive season fills the air, as everyone gathers around the overflowing feast that has been set up on the table—your grandmother’s specially made ham and turkey with the additional main of lamb skewers and turkey meatballs, Aunt Dara’s potato bake and baked salmon, and Uncle Marco’s signature casseroles, with smaller bowls of side dishes set on the side. 

A couple of bowls of the fennel salad that you helped prepare are being passed around on the table. Once everyone is done with their meal, your home-made cinnamon bread rolls and your cousin June’s apple and caramel pie are ready to be served as desserts. 

Once everyone has filled the dining room, your mother’s Christmas decorations which you perviously thought was overdone no longer seemed as much. The twinkling lights and the fragrant pine garlands adorning the room are enough to rival the festive sweaters and bright-coloured dresses that everyone is wearing for the night. The scent of cinnamon and cloves wafts around you all the way from the kitchen, and it makes your head swim even without sipping on the champagne that are being passed around.

As everyone took their seats at the table, you stepfather stepped aside to let Honey take the head of the table as the matriarch of the family and the night’s host. The radiant smile on her face which never seems to wane sets the mood in the entire room, helping you to also forget about your personal troubles that no longer seem as dire as your mind had made them up to be. 

The laughter and chatter filling the room becomes the perfect distraction that you need to pay no heed to the unwavering gaze that Taehyung keeps stealing your way. Even as he chats with June who had sat down by his side, Taehyung continues to throw a few not-so-subtle glances your way, making you feel uneasy and self-conscious whenever you aren’t having your attention dragged away from your younger cousin, Maya, who is chattering right beside you while sipping her glass of champagne.

You turn your gaze at Alia, who had chosen to sit by Cliff’s brother, Kyle, who had decided to join your family this year. Too busy catching up with her uncle, she doesn’t seem to notice her own boyfriend’s wandering eyes. She doesn’t even seem to care as much as she should, you realise, as you have also noticed that she hasn’t been clinging or openly doting on Taehyung throughout the night since they had gotten back from the motel. 

It has given you a sense of relief, because you can finally have one night where your heart isn’t being crushed from watching them together, but also a twinge of guilt, knowing that your last conversation with Taehyung may have had something to do with it. She did appear tense when she first came in, and you never figured out why when it quickly faded the moment she saw her uncle in the room, and her stiff expression quickly turned into relief. 

The sounds of glasses clinking and the pouring champagne continues on as everyone is starting to finish their meal. Nursing the glass of fresh juice that you have had all through dinner, you hope that nobody notices that you have left the glass of champagne on your side mostly untouched—apart from the occasional raise of the glass when someone makes a toast or pressing your lips lightly on its rim to disguise the fact that you are not drinking any drop of it. 

Not too long, dinner is over, and everyone filters into the spacious living room to gather around the fireplace while the kids loiter around the Christmas tree to curiously shift through the wrapped presents to try and find which one of them would be theirs. 

There are a selective few that separate themselves to head out to the back porch to smoke and talk business—mostly your male cousins—while the others quickly follow Honey to where she has set up the minibar for her signature rum cocktails and act as the designated bartender for the night. 

As you follow to join everyone in the living room, the impending conversation that you are about to have with Taehyung keeps weighing you down, making you grow more anxious with each passing second. It makes you feel vulnerable, causing you to be hyper-aware of his presence inside the room even before you catch the sight of him mingling with your family. 

Moving one feet after the other without tripping feels like a struggle under the heat of his gaze. It bothers you to no end to notice that Taehyung seems to have disregarded any last bit of subtlety, when he is now openly staring at you even while he is chatting with someone else by the Christmas tree. 

You have no idea if anyone, especially Alia, has noticed it. You wouldn’t be surprised if someone has caught on, when he makes it so obvious that he is watching you from across the room. 

The only reprieve that you have to cover you from Taehyung’s gaze and the silent questions that may linger within any observant pair of eyes would be your grandmother, Honey, who steals most of the attention by running the show as she mixes her sweet cocktails and shares new stories about her friends back at her apartment complex and gossips that she heard recently from the neighbours here. 

“Congratulations.” 

A deep voice greets you, pulling you out of the stupor that you are in. You look over to see Kyle, your stepfather’s younger brother, coming to your side. 

It was a nice surprise to see him this year to join your family gathering, as your step-uncle has been working at another state for the past year and you haven’t seen each other since. Carrying a glass of wine with him—red, just the way he enjoys it—instead of a glass of cocktail, he gives you a warm smile that looks like a mirror image to his older brother. 

“I heard from your Dad that you just got another promotion. I’m guessing that this gathering is part of the celebration too?” he asks, while your skin warms at the mention of your stepfather. 

For as long as you could remember, you have been calling Cliff as ‘Dad’. You can no longer remember how it started, but ever since you were little, the only ‘Dad’ you have ever known has been Cliff, not the birth father who had been gone almost your entire life. He may not be your birth father, and there has been no talking about him adopting you yet, but he is the one and only Dad that you’ll ever know. 

Having someone else noticing and acknowledging it feels gratifying. Especially when it is coming from his side of the family. 

Nodding your head, you answer your step-uncle with a bashful smile. “Yeah, that’s what Honey said and she insisted that we host the annual dinner this year instead of Aunt Dara. But we all know that she’s the main star of the show,” you joke with him as you nod your chin to point at Honey, who is teasing your mother about dropping rum into her hot cocoa instead of taking one of her sweet cocktails. 

Kyle laughs with you as he watches the scene. “Still, you should be proud of yourself.” 

“Oh, I am proud,” you answer him with a smile. “I worked hard for it, but I’m feeling a bit guilty too since the busier I had gotten, the lesser I was able to make time to contact my parents.” 

Your step-uncle nods. “You can’t help it. That’s often the cost of building a career,” he says, understanding your situation, as he too has the same troubles of making time for his family with his busy life. 

“But your parents would understand. In fact, your Dad has been bragging about his girls quite a lot lately. One who keeps traveling across the globe to see the world, while the other who keeps climbing the corporate ladder, and I have to say—” he sighs, “I’m kind of jealous.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Has he now?” you chuckle a little, somehow feeling good about being your stepfather’s pride. “Oh, you shouldn’t be feeling too jealous of Dad. You know your kids are doing great too. They’re both in college now, aren’t they?”

At the mention of his children, Kyle’s eyes seem to grow brighter. He speaks with a voice full of pride as he talks about the two young boys who had just returned from the back porch and now huddling in front of the fireplace to warm up while bickering on their own. 

You stay to talk to him for a while longer, until your stepfather steals him away to share a bottle of a much stronger liquor in another room and you continue to mingle with the other family members that you haven’t met for a while. 

By the time you are done catching up, the object of your frustration—who is coincidentally also the father of your baby—forgotten, you are feeling drained and your legs are giving up from standing for too long that you unceremoniously collapse on the couch in the corner of the room without a single care. 

For a moment, you find calmness by sitting on your own, staying in the corner where you are mostly unnoticed. The festivities is still high around you, but you find freedom here, away from everyone’s attention. Too bad that you aren’t given the chance to savour it when someone decides to slide in and sit right next to you. 

“So—I suppose that aside from the cocktail tasting, the gift exchange is going to be the main part of the night’s event, huh?” 

A shudder rocks through your body. His deep, distinctive voice does that to you even when you hear it in your dreams. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself before turning to him, hoping that you have enough strength to look at his face without feeling like your heart is about to burst. 

Slowly, you turn to look at him, and immediately, your entire body betrays you. Your heartbeat picks up, and the cavity in your chest is overflowing with gentle flutters, as if there are a thousand of butterfly wings inside you coming awake with just one look at his face. Taehyung lets his gaze linger on the children who are showing off their wrapped gifts to their parents before looking back at you. 

Your cheeks burn the moment your eyes meet each other, and you look away before it gets too much. “Yes, we’re exchanging gifts before the night ends, and then everyone will go on their merry way. Some drunk, while relying on their designated drivers or a cab, and some others to continue with their own thing back home,” you explain to him while trying to keep your voice calm. “It started mostly with Honey being the one giving out the gifts on the Eve, since it’s her thing to give something to everyone she cares about.” 

A smile is lifted on your face while you watch Honey handing out small wrapped boxes of gifts to the children first before the older ones get their turns. The cheerful laughter shared by everyone who has received Honey’s special gifts fills the room. Curious expressions that quickly turn into joy has always been the high point of these Christmas gatherings in your family. 

You should be there to join them, to enjoy the festivities, yet with everything that has been going on, you are feeling too overwhelmed to take part in it. “After a while, the relatives who are often invited to these things started joining in, bringing in their own gifts in addition to the plates of food that they bring for dinner.” 

“Sounds like so much fun,” Taehyung muses. “Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.” 

“Why are you sitting back here? Aren’t you supposed to be with Alia?” you question him as you wonder why he would be so daring to join you instead of staying by his girlfriend’s side and play his role as her plus one. “You could’ve asked Alia about these things.”

Taehyung grins. “She’s busy with her own thing. Besides, every time I ask her about these things, she would just brush it off and tell me to ask someone else.” 

Frowning, you find his comment to be odd. It isn’t something that you could expect to hear from a new couple such as them. Lest of all from one half of the couple that haven’t been shy with their constant public display of affection from the day they arrived. 

Once again avoiding Taehyung’s gaze as he looks at you again, you find Alia across the room, conversing with one of Kyle’s sons. Judging from the way she seems to be enjoying herself with the glass of cocktail in her hand, she doesn’t seem to care much about what her boyfriend is up to, much less to feel curious enough to find him. 

That’s odd, but it’s not really my problem, is it?  

You remind yourself and put your curiosity aside. “You could’ve asked Honey. You seem to have grown closer to her lately,” you tease Taehyung, pointing out how often he has been spending time with your grandmother whenever he isn’t busy helping others in the house or catering to Alia’s need for attention. 

Taehyung chuckles softly. “How could I bother the host of the party? Look at her enjoying herself. She’s the superstar tonight, so I’d rather not take her out of the spotlight just to be my guide.” 

Even without looking, you can hear the smile in his voice as he talks about your grandmother. And when you look ahead, you can obviously see that he isn’t completely wrong. 

Honey is clearly having the time of her life; whether it’s about watching the happy faces receiving her gifts or seeing people enjoying the drinks she is making. She may have lessened her own drinking habit—except for the occasional drop of rum that she sneaks into her hot drinks—but she still knows how to make amazing sweet and fruity cocktails for others to enjoy. 

That should explain why you have the penchant for sweet alcoholic drinks instead of the bitter ones whenever you feel like it.

“So,” you turn to Taehyung with a sly smile. “I guess that means I’ve earned the honour to answer your questions?” 

Taehyung seems surprised to see that you smiling back at him. His gaze softens, and so does his voice when he leans closer to say, “You’re the only person I know in this room.” 

Fuck. Your cheeks shouldn’t be getting warm just because he says something like this. You look away to hide it. “Is Alia the jealous type? Would it bother her to see us chatting as friendly as we do now?” 

Taehyung scoffs. “I don’t think she even bothers to notice. Not tonight, anyway.” 

“Yeah…she can be the least perceptive person in the room sometimes,” you sigh as you watch your stepsister joking with her cousin without a single glance at her boyfriend. Realising what you just said, you turn to Taehyung to apologise. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“It’s fine,” he scoffs. “Trust me, I know it full well from experience.” 

There is a sarcastic tone in his voice that should have made you wonder about his comment. Yet there is a bitterness that you feel inside after hearing those words. Of course, he would have enough experience dealing with Alia’s attitude. 

They are dating, after all. 

You look away and bite back that bitter taste in your tongue. “Right, of course.” 

Unlike Alia who can be completely insensitive to her surroundings, Taehyung notices your change of mood right away. You feel him sliding closer, just enough to allow him to speak in a low voice, but not enough to make people grow curious or suspicious that something is going on between the two of you. 

“You promised that we could talk,” he says, almost a whisper under the noises around you.  

Your stomach feels tight with nerves. It’s time. “I did, and we do,” you say to him while clenching your hands. You are beginning to wonder if you had made the right decision of leaving the sonogram behind. Maybe bringing him back to your bedroom wouldn’t be a good idea. “I have—something to tell you. Something important.” 

Taehyung nods. “Do you think we can slip out of the room unnoticed?” 

“You mean…now? You want to do it right now?” you hiss at him, glancing at Alia before looking back at him again. “Wouldn’t Alia be looking for you?” 

Taehyung merely scoffs. “Like I said, she’s busy. Once she gets a few more glasses of drink, she’ll be more focused on looking for a sofa to lie down on instead of noticing that I’m gone.” 

As if on cue, Alia’s laughter echoes through the room, and she turns away to joke with both of her male cousins now. You also notice that she has somehow gotten a fresh glass of cocktail in her hand, and she must have drank it halfway already by the looks of it. 

Looking around the room, you notice that the guests crowding the living room is slowly dwindling. Most of your relatives who had gotten enough of Honey’s cocktail and received their gifts are starting to bid their goodbyes, hoping that they could return home before it gets too late and preferably before each of their designated drivers join in with the drinking. Yet there are some family members who have yet to show any sign of leaving soon, still enjoying their chat with Honey by the Christmas tree. 

There will be no other chance, you tell yourself as you silently make a decision. The lesser people there are left, the more obvious it would be for everyone that you had gone missing from the room. 

And with whom you may have disappeared together. 

“Can you, uh—meet me in my room in about ten minutes, maybe less? I think we can get some privacy there and people don’t normally get upstairs unless they’re staying the night.” And because I left the sonogram there. 

That’s right, it would be easier to show the sonogram to him right away when you tell him everything, just as how you initially planned it, even if you haven’t been too sure about it. “I’ll have to mingle a bit more and make sure that Honey can see me before I disappear. She’ll be looking for me if I don’t join her even if for a minute.” 

“Yeah, I can do that,” Taehyung says as he straightens up, “You go ahead and talk to Honey, and I’ll sneak us out some drinks so we have something to do while we talk.”  

“Drinks. Right. Good idea,” you simply say to him, not bothering to try and turn down his offer, or to insist him to bring you the non-alcoholic ones. He’ll figure things out later once you are alone with him anyway. 

With a nod, Taehyung rises from his seat and walks over to June, your cousin who seems to have gotten along with Taehyung over dinner. You wait for a few more minutes before making your move. Honey seems to be busy as more and more relatives are preparing to leave. So you turn to Aunt Dara and have a quick chat with her, making sure that the two of you remain within Honey’s peripheral vision so she can still see you. 

Too restless to linger around and stay a bit longer, in not more than five minutes, you end your conversation and turn away from your aunt, hoping that you can slip away from the room before anyone notices your stealthy escape. Not even Honey. Because the moment you are caught by your grandmother, you know it would make it even harder for you to leave the room. 

But just as you slip through the guests, staying clear from your mother’s relatives who are crowding Honey, your grandmother catches the sight of you and calls out—

“______, there you are. We were just talking about you. Come over here,” she says, waving her hand so you can join her and the small group that still remains to accompany her after a couple of more relatives have left the party. 

Fuck. Too late. 

Forcing a smile, you slither towards her, practically dragging your feet. “What is it, Honey?” 

Honey leans against the minibar and picks up a small bottle. She continues mixing and pouring the drinks as she starts talking to you, “I was just talking to them about your recent promotion and how proud you made us. And then Jennie here shared that she is starting a new job and moving to the same city where you work. I told them that you have a big apartment that I love so much—” 

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Honey, I already told you. I don’t own the place, I rent it with a roommate.” 

“Anyway,” she brushes you off, “I wondered if you could be a dear and help Jennie out to find a nice apartment. You know people in the city can be a bit sneaky. We’ve heard stories of young girls getting scammed the first time they’ve gone into a big city, so obviously, I was worried.” 

Before you can say anything, Jennie raises her hand and cuts in, “I told Honey that I’ve already been looking up at a few places so—”

Jennie’s voice fades in and out and you can barely focus on what she is trying to tell you. Something about making arrangements with property agents to look up for a few affordable apartments not far from where you live. But your attention is being drawn elsewhere, as you notice from the corner of your eyes, that Taehyung is nodding at June and walking away, barely giving you a glance as he slides towards the small corner table filled with bottles of beer to grab the drinks he promised you. 

“You know what, why don’t you call me up once you start moving. Maybe you can crash at my place and use the couch while you’re looking. Then I’ll see if I can arrange my schedules to go with you when you’re looking into those apartments so you won’t have to go alone.” 

“That sounds great!” Jennie says, looking relieved, and you see it as a chance to also slip away so you can get to your bedroom before Taehyung could. 

“Honey, I—” 

“See? I told you that _____ is an angel,” Honey cuts you off before you can get a word out. Then she turns to you, handing you the glass of cocktail that she was mixing while you were chatting with your cousin. 

“Here, you should try this. I made this specially for you,” she says as she gives the drink a few more stirs. “I remember that you loved the rose scented drinks I bought you, so I ordered this infused—” 

You bite your lips, trying to hide away your revulsion as Honey raises the glass to you so you can take it from her. On reflect, you lift your hands to refuse. “No, thank you, Honey. I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood for cocktails right now. I’ve just finished my hot chocolate, after all.” 

“That’s too bad. Well, I guess someone else has to taste this one for me.” She pouts, making you feel guilty for refusing her offer as she lowers her hand. “Speaking of which, I haven’t seen you drinking tonight. In fact, I haven’t seen you drink any alcoholic drink at all this holiday. Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

Your stomach drops. An incredulous laugh leaves your lips. “W-what?” 

What did she say? You wonder. You must’ve heard her wrong. Right?

Honey shrugs as she puts away the rejected drink and places it on top of the minibar. “Seeing how you keep getting sick and avoiding alcoholic drinks since you got here, I would think that you’re secretly pregnant,” she says while laughing and looking proud, as if she was simply throwing her crude joke as she usually does without realising how spot on it was to the truth. “Are you carrying a child in that belly, dear?” 

The room falls into a rapt hush after Honey throws that comment into the room. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, while Honey remains unfazed, still wearing her curious smile as if she hasn’t done anything wrong. 

“Honey? W-what are you saying?” you nervously ask her, while your sweet grandmother merely shrugs and innocently waves you off. 

“Oh, it’s nothing, sweetie. Just thinking out loud. It’s just that seeing you get sick every morning, and being so sensitive with certain smells reminds me a lot of myself when I was pregnant with your Mom. You haven’t even touched a drop of alcohol I offered since you got home, and I know that you barely touched your glass of champagne during dinner,” she says with a wicked chuckle. “Don’t pretend that you didn’t. You tried to hide it, but I knew. I have eyes, you know.” 

Fuck. I didn’t think she would notice. 

Gritting your teeth, you can only curse at yourself for acting such a fool. You thought you were being clever about it, but you must have been distracted by Taehyung’s presence at dinner that you failed to notice that Honey had kept her eyes on you all night. 

“I—” 

You try to speak, but words fail you. How do you respond? What do you say to this? 

Ever since from the moment you came back home, you had expected that Honey would be the one who is able to put the pieces together, being the perceptive person that she is, and she had been the reason why you have been extra careful in hiding it, especially when you were around her. 

Never once did you ever expect that she would so quick to draw up this conclusion and speak of it so nonchalantly with a few relatives are still around. 

“Mom, stop talking nonsense,” your mother gently chastises your grandmother while laughing nervously. She looks back and forth between you and her mother, her eyes flickering on your face, then to your belly, as if she is trying to find what she has been missing. “_____ can’t be pregnant. Right, sweetie?” 

Your tears begin to form. “I, uh—I don’t—” 

Your head starts spinning harder the more you try to speak up, to explain, knowing that it would be futile to lie. Not to Honey. And certainly not to your parents. 

Under the attention and distress, feeling the burden of having all eyes on you, all of them waiting for your answer, your hands move on their own, finding comfort in embracing the very spot where your growing baby is hidden as you press your palms on your barely-there bump. Noticing this, a collective gasp spreads through the room. Honey’s smile falters, while your mother’s eyes grow wide in shock. 

But the most devastating of all is to see your stepfather walking around his brother to get to you from across the room. “You’re pregnant?” Cliff asks you carefully as he slowly comes to your side. When you look up at is shock slowly turns into rage when he asks, “Is that why that prick left you? Did he get you pregnant and choose to walk away like a fucking coward?” 

“No, Dad. I—” 

While you are struggling to answer him, your stepfather’s voice continues to rise. “Tell me where he is and I’ll chase that fucker—” 

Everything moves in slow motion. Your stepfather who keeps cursing at your ex. Your Mom who keeps pulling him back to try and calm him down, and her pleading gaze silently asking you to explain. The whispering gasps and questions shared among the nervous glances that the guests are sending each other.

Everyone is talking at the same time, while you continue having a hard time to speak up. Your stomach feels tight. Even the touch of your hands no longer bring the calming warmth that your body needs. 

Gentle hands press down on your arms as you are slowly being pulled away from the chaos. You can only make out Jennie and Honey’s voices whispering to you, guiding you to breathe while helping you to sit down before you would pass out. 

Amidst the confusion, your eyes travel across the room, immediately finding Taehyung who is standing there in the corner with a frown on his face and a couple of bottles of drinks in his hands. As your eyes are locked with one another from the distance, you can see him processing through everything. His emotions are clearly written in his gaze; confusion, bewilderment, wonder. 

You have no idea what kind of look that he sees on your face, but slowly, you can tell that everything seems to sink in on him. A dawning realisation sparks through his eyes when he finally puts the pieces together, and his shoulders fall to slump.

He knows. 

And he isn’t the only one who is putting the pieces together. 

With a quick glance, you find Alia standing on the other side of the room, her eyes keep flickering between you and Taehyung, evidently noticing the silent exchange happening between the two of you. There is a clear sign of shock and hurt in her eyes that you get to see a glimpse of when she looks at you one last time, before she turns away and runs out of the room. 

“You need to rest. The stress wouldn’t be good for you.” 

Jennie’s voice sounds subdued, worrying. She has always been shy, but she seems particularly cautious as she looks at you. As if she is trying her best not to look down at your belly. But her presence here and her small, careful voice offers you comfort. Something that you need as you lean against the doorway to your bedroom, feeling a bit too weak to stand on your own. 

“I’m sorry you got entangled in all of this,” is all that you can say to her. You feel guilty for having your cousin and your aunt roped into this whole drama, all because they had been there to witness it when everything unfolded. 

While your step-uncle, Kyle, took over escorting the departing guests, and your mother is somewhere in the house to talk with your stepfather, Jennie had volunteered to help escort you back to your room. She becomes the calming force amidst the storm that helps clear your mind. 

“It’s fine,” she waves you off. “You’ll be paying me back once I’ve moved closer to you anyway. The couch is still available, right? You said I could crash until I’m settled.” 

That helps bring a smile to your face. “Yes, my door is always open. I’ll let my roommate know that you’re coming. She’s usually open to welcoming family who needs help anyway,” you say to her with full gratitude before adding, “Thank you for staying to help.” 

She nods and begins to turn away. “I better go check on Honey and see if my Mom is ready to go. I’ll see you soon.” 

Too exhausted to say anything else, you simply thank her one last time and watch her go down the hall before closing the door. Once again, the silence in your bedroom gives you the perfect solace. It does nothing to erase the weight in your chest, however, or give you the answer you need as you wonder how you are going to talk to Taehyung about the whole thing. 

You never expected that things would turn into such a mess, robbing any chance of you telling Taehyung about the baby properly, free of drama and uncertainty. 

Just as you start dragging your feet towards the bed, you hear a soft knocking on the door, pulling you back to it. Thinking it might be Jennie, you immediately open it. “Did you forget—” Your voice falls to a hush when you find Taehyung standing there instead, giving you a small smile that draws back all the slow flutters in your chest. 

“Oh, hi.”

“Hey,” he gently greets you. His smile is cautious, restrained, and his exhale of breath seems shaky. But he sounds calm when he speaks to you, “May I come in?” 

You prepare yourself to answer, but your eyes flicker out the hallway, searching, a gesture that he easily notices. “Alia is with your parents. They’re worried about you, but your Mom seemed a bit frantic because she didn’t see the signs. Alia probably won’t be looking for me until later. I wanted to talk to you first.” 

“Okay,” you answer him with a sigh of relief. “Come in,” you beckon him, stepping aside so he can enter your room. 

He steps deeper into your room while you take your time, gathering courage before you can turn to face him. His voice fills your room as he continues to talk, “I left our drinks downstairs. Things were so chaotic, so it slipped my mind—” 

“That’s okay, it’s—” you say in return, failing to notice that his voice has faded out into silence. When you finally turn to him, you find him standing in front of your bedside table, his eyes are locked on the tiny thing that he is holding up under the dim light of the bedroom. 

He found the sonogram. 

“How far along are you?” His voice seems quiet against your thundering heartbeat, drowning even in the silence surrounding you.

You draw an unsteady breath before speaking up. “Six weeks, give or take.” 

Taehyung remains silent for a moment longer before a sigh comes out of him. “Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” he asks, still with his eyes on the sonogram. His expression is unreadable, something which you cannot fault him with, knowing that this must have come as a shock to him. 

“I’m sorry, I should’ve gone to you sooner,” you quickly apologise to him. A part of you wants to rush by his side, even if you cannot decide whether you want to calm and soothe him or rip that sonogram from his hand. Yet your legs seem frozen, and you are locked at one spot with no ability to move.  

“From the moment I found out, I was planning to find you and figure out how to share the news to you in person, but then you showed up here with Alia, and I got”—blindsided, aghast, confused, terrified—”I just couldn’t figure out how to do it.” 

“So, I was right. This baby is mine.” 

Just as he says those words, you finally understand the look that he is wearing on his face. Captivated. Entranced. Amused. As if this revelation is more fascinating to him rather than it is frightening. It brings a twinge of hope rising inside you, telling you that maybe you can both figure out on how to deal with this. 

But what about Alia? 

“It was from that night, wasn’t it?” he asks again, breaking you out of your thoughts—from thinking about Alia. And you can almost sure that you catch the corner of his lips lifting to a smile.

“Yeah,” you cautiously say to him. “It happened the night we got together. I’ve never been with anyone else since—” 

“What is this all about?” A deep voice bellows through your small bedroom, cutting through your words before you can finish talking. Both you and Taehyung turn to the door, noticing too late that your stepfather is standing there, watching the two of you with grief and horror in his eyes. 

“Dad—what you are doing here?” you ask him as your eyes flicker towards the door behind him. 

Crap. Distracted by your own nerves that had been affected by Taehyung’s arrival, you must have failed to shut the door tightly behind you. 

“I came to check on you and apologise for freaking out,” Cliff says, frown deepening, his voice and the expression you see on his face convey a mixture of anger and hurt. “But what is he doing in here?” he continues, pointing at Taehyung. “Why is he in your room, when he’s supposed to be with Alia?” 

The atmosphere grows heavier, yet Taehyung—the brave soul that he is—carefully steps forward to face your stepfather. “Cliff, I can explain—”

“And what did I just heard about the two of you being together? Is that baby—” Cliff turns to point at you, then back at Taehyung again while keeping his eyes on you, expecting you to answer him. “Was he the one responsible?” 

Still holding the sonogram in his hand, Taehyung straightens his shoulders and lifts his chin. And it seems to be enough to answer your stepfather’s question. But what it only does is to aggravate Cliff even more. The air crackles with his rage, and he moves so fast—too fast for your mind to comprehend—as he grabs the front of Taehyung’s shirt and starts dragging him out of your bedroom. 

“Dad, no!” 

The moment you see your stepfather dragging Taehyung out the door, that is when you snap out of it and start running to chase them. As you run out the door, you see Alia who was clearly on her way to your bedroom. Her eyes are wide with shock, and though you are unable to interpret the gloss in her eyes—whether they are tears of hurt or her tipsiness—you can tell that she has been standing there long enough before anyone noticed.

But was she there long enough to hear everything?  

“Daddy? What are you doing?” Alia screams out, though she doesn’t make any move, seemingly in shock to see her father dragging Taehyung across the hallway. 

“Alia, you need to stop him!” 

Your scream snaps her out of her shock, and she quickly rushes to chase both men down the stairs. You try to follow them as fast as you can, but your heart is racing, your legs feel weak, you can barely manage to come down the stairs without tumbling down. 

“Careful!” Alia snaps at you in panic as she catches you at the final flight of stairs. You lift your head to thank her for helping you, only for her to give you no chance to as she turns away right after, chasing after her Dad who is now dragging her boyfriend out the yard. 

Once the both of you are out the house, you can hear your stepfather’s voice bellowing through the air. His accusations echo through the chilly night, his eyes are blazing with frustration and rage, and he still has his hand pulling at Taehyung’s shirt, nearly lifting him off the ground as he continues shouting profanities between his grievance. 

“—the fuck are you trying to pull?” he yells at Taehyung’s face, and you wince at how loud he is being against the silent night. 

The only relief you can savour is the fact that he hasn’t gone physical. No hits are thrown, and the only rough handling he has been doing is to shake Taehyung back and forth with his tight grip on his shirt as he demands the truth. An answer. Anything that could clear this whole misunderstanding.

Taehyung’s eyes dart over Cliff’s shoulder as he notices you and Alia coming. Your stepfather follows his gaze and is caught by surprised to see you chasing him. But as he looks at you, his gaze hardens as he pleads, “Tell me that it’s not true. Tell me that you weren’t sleeping with him while he’s seeing your sister.” 

No, it’s not true. They weren’t together. You remember hearing Taehyung denying it when you first questioned it, so it must’ve been the truth. Right?  

The night you hooked up with him flashes through your head. That night from six weeks ago, the shared moment that he claimed to be a time where he hadn’t gotten involved with Alia. You want to speak up, to deny that he was playing both you and Alia, that the only thing behind this whole mess had been mere coincidence. 

If only you could stop shaking. Get some words out. Anything. 

But your chest feels tight. You can barely breathe in air, much less to let your voice out. 

“Cliff, please! I told you, I can explain!” Taehyung tries to get your stepfather to listen. You see his hand reaching to grab Cliff’s wrist, though it doesn’t seem that the hold would budge no matter what he does to pull it off. His eyes turn to you, then to Alia, right before he screams out with fear in his eyes, “Alia!” 

“Don’t you dare say her name!” Cliff yells at him, and you force yourself to speak. 

“Sto—” you try once, failing when your chest tightens. “Stop,” you cry out again, “Dad, please—” 

Your voice comes out as nothing more than dried paper, a silent hush compared to the loud voices as Cliff and Taehyung continue to argue with each other at the center of the front yard. But Alia is standing close enough to you to hear it. Close enough to see your hands shaking, your face turning pale and sickly, and she quickly moves right in front of you, standing between you and the quarrelling men. 

“Daddy, stop yelling. You’re going to stress ______ out,” she yells at her Dad while pushing you behind her to keep you away from them, as if she is making sure you won’t get hurt.

She’s…defending me? 

Your head starts spinning harder. Everything is so confusing right now, and it makes you feel worse when you look at Alia, seeing her getting caught in the crossfire as she tries to separate the two while shielding you from the chaos. 

“And it’s not Taehyung’s fault!” she yells again, and this time, it seems to do the trick, because Cliff finally lets Taehyung go. 

Now free from your stepfather’s clutch, Taehyung steps back. He tries to catch his breath while fixing his shirt. You notice then that he is still holding your sonogram, surprising you when even amidst all the chaos, he is still gripping onto it protectively. 

“How is it not his fault?” Cliff snaps at your stepsister. “Why are you defending this asshole? He slept with your sister when he’s dating you, and he even dared to show his face at my—” 

“Because we’re not dating!” Alia cuts him off with a scream, and everything stops. Her scream even shuts the voices in your head, drawing a single question in their place—

What—? What did she just say? 

With all eyes on her, Alia begins to shake with nerves. And then the truth spills out of her mouth. “We, uh—Taehyung and I—we’re friends. I wasn’t planning to come this year but you kept calling me to come for Honey’s family dinner, and—” she says, stuttering as she points at her father, and then turns to face you to add, “I thought that your—I mean, Hansol. I thought he was going to come with you this year like he always did and I didn’t want you to think that—” 

Drawing a shaky breath, she pushes through her nerves and forces the rest of the truth to come out. “I asked Taehyung to come with me and pretend to be my boyfriend so you wouldn’t think that I was going to try to make a move on Hansol again.” 

“Wait—what?” Taehyung snaps at her. He seems confused, and it is evident in your eyes that he never got to hear this part of the ordeal from Alia when he signed up for—whatever it was that they had agreed upon. “What did you do?” 

Alia opens her mouth to continue, yet Cliff cuts her off before she could. “Enough,” he says, no longer yelling. His voice sounds drained, exasperated, and yet there is an eerie calmness underneath that makes your skin shiver with fear. His silent rage terrifies you more than his loud, raging voice does, while the defeated look in his eyes hurts you deeply. “Alia, get inside. And you—” he turns to point at Taehyung. “Get out of my sight.” 

“Dad, no—” you step forward to stop him, yet Cliff doesn’t even look at you when he calmly orders Alia to move. 

“Alia, get your sister back in her room,” he says as he turns away, making his way back into the house.  

Left with no other choice, and feeling like the fight has left you, you let Alia place her hands on your shoulders. “I’m sorry,” you turn to Taehyung one last time as she starts guiding you back to the house, but then your stomach drops when he remains silent. His eyes are cold, as if he is trying to mask his true emotions as he looks at you. Something twists in your gut as if he had pierced a knife deeply through it. “Tae, wait—” 

A small smile is lifted on his lips, though it seems closer to a sneer, something which doesn’t seem to reach the pained look in his eyes, and that is the only thing that he gives you before he turns away and leaves the property without saying a single word. 

Sleep, without a doubt, has become fruitless. 

All night, you have been tossing and turning in your bed. Even when you manage to close your eyes and doze off a little, your stepfather’s grievance and Taehyung’s bereft smile flash through your mind, sending you to an abrupt wake each time. 

At the very last time you find yourself being forcefully pulled away from your restless sleep, you glance out the window, its curtains left partly opened, you see the shadows of nightfall slowly shifting. A blush of hue in gradient colours of purple and grey is beginning to emerge amidst the dark, and you can feel it in your skin the awakening of dawn. 

Too anxious to remain still on your cold bed, adrenaline and stress still flowing violently through your body, you finally give up trying to rest and tiptoe your way downstairs. 

The stillness in the house at night has always been something that you have come so familiar with, but as you walk down the stairs and into the quiet kitchen, the house feels more eerie that it usually does. You can almost hear the creaking sound of the floors and the walls around you, as if they are whispering to you all the things that they have witnessed from the night before. 

The air feels unusually cold. You fight the temptation to light up the fireplace once more and huddle up right in front of it, resisting only to avoid waking everyone else up, and then walk into the kitchen in search for another source of warmth. 

You are just beginning to make yourself a cup of hot chocolate to warm up when a figure steps into the archway leading towards the hallway. You turn with a jump, realising with relief that it is Alia. 

Giving you a hesitant smile, she walks into the kitchen. With her arms wrapped around herself and a thick shawl cloaking her shoulders, you realise that you are not the only one struggling with the cold. 

“Can’t sleep? Or did you wake up too early?” she asks you with a soft whisper. 

“A little bit of both. How about you?” 

She stands by the kitchen counter to watch you work. “Tried to sleep, but I kept having nightmares. I was running downstairs to catch up with Dad, and it kept repeating over and over”—she visibly shudders—“and then I woke up with this crappy headache.” 

You give her a smile and tip your chin at the high stool right by the counter. “Take a seat. I’ll make more,” you offer her, which she accepts with a smile. 

Neither of you says a word for a moment, only breaking the silence once you are done pouring the hot drinks into two separate mugs and handing one to her while whispering, “Here you go,” to which she responds with a soft, sleepy murmur, “Thank you.” 

Taking the seat on one end of the counter with Alia sitting on the other, silence stretches between the two of you once again. There is an awkward tension in the air. You cannot remember when you have ever found yourself alone with Alia like this, deep in the night and with nothing else to do but to talk. Not since those many years ago when you were children. 

You remember how your parents made you share the same bedroom. It was their way of getting you to bond with your new stepsister at the time. Even then, you could tell that Alia wasn’t exactly thrilled by it, already so used to having her own bedroom before she had to split her time between spending the weekdays with her mother and then with her father on the weekends. 

But at least back then, the silence didn’t feel as stifling. And she had let you borrow her personal things to play with, as long as you got out of her way. And that included her books—so many of them, you remember—with her occasionally sitting right beside you so she could read you some of the hard ones to follow for a little child.  

Taking a sip of your hot cocoa, you decide that you have had enough of this silence. “So—” you breathe out a sigh. “You and Taehyung.” 

Alia groans and closes her eyes. “You heard me last night, didn’t you? I know I was drunk off my ass, but it’s true,” she says, scoffing as she glances sideways and meets your gaze when you do the same, “It’s stupid, I know.” 

You sip your drink before asking, “Why did you have to go make an entire scheme out of this?” 

“I don’t know,” she breathes out an exhausted sigh. “It sounded like a good idea at the time.” Her voice sounds wistful when she says this, and then she breaks out into a bitter chuckle. “But I guess, just like a ton of other bad decisions I’ve made my entire life, it only added to the long list of fuck-ups that have tainted most of my adult life.” 

You let out a snort, something that is so uncharacteristically you, but still comes out with all honesty. “At least you’re taking accountability of it,” you say to her almost teasingly, “I know some people who wouldn’t even admit that they fucked up and simply move on while everyone had to pick up the mess they left behind.”  

Alia laughs. You can see her eyes warming up. “When did you meet him? How did it all happen?” 

Your lips curl up to a smile. You drink your hot drink slowly before you begin telling her everything—the trip that you went to after your breakup, the frustrating debacle with your flight getting delayed and cancelled and meeting him at transit, the hookup, everything that you already shared with Skye the first time you revealed about your first promiscuous night abroad with the stranger, the agreement you both made about shedding your identities, which had lead to this whole mess, and more.

Surprisingly enough, Alia merely responds with a soft chuckle. As if this is something that is to be expected when it involves her friend. “That explains it,” she muses softly. She has this faraway look in her eyes for a moment, as if recalling something in the past—perhaps something that happened during that period of time. 

“He was going through some stuff when we got in contact again about a year after the last time we met. We lost contact again briefly during that time”—the time he went to take that trip, you tell yourself—”I think he said he was off to some sort of a business trip and was using it to ‘escape’ from everything. He never told me any of the details, though.” 

You are curious, wanting to know more. But you also know that it isn’t your place to pry. You can also tell that Alia may not answer if you try to ask her. Yet she then surprises you by adding, “Then he contacted me not too long ago and said something about needing my help. I thought it was a wild coincidence and decided to use the chance to get him to help me in return. One thing lead to another, and here we are now.” 

You both share a laugh, despite how pitiful the two of you seem at this moment.  

When you both grow quiet once more, each of you taking the moment to savour your drink and the silence that is starting to bring more comfort than the uneasiness you felt earlier, your mind wanders. You recall the events that have been happening for the past few days, to tonight, seeing everything with a new light now that the truth has come out. You also find that you no longer feel the weight of your secret shadowing you, allowing you to breathe easier. 

And then the conversation you had with Skye on the phone from a while ago comes back to you. 

“I’m sorry I broke your doll,” you suddenly blurt out, while Alia snaps her head to look over to you. 

“What? Which doll?” she asks, her face is filled with incomprehension, before her expression shifts into knowing, and then to shock. “Oh, that one? That was a long time ago!” 

You laugh at her reaction. “Yeah, but it feels like you started resenting me since then.” 

“No, I’m—” she shakes her head and scoffs at you. “It’s actually fine. I hated that doll. That was the ugliest piece of shit I’ve ever owned when I was a kid.” 

“What—?”  you let out an incredulous laugh. “But you made it look like I’ve ruined your entire world. All hell broke loose because of it so I thought—” 

Alia laughs, though she also looks somewhat guilty when she explains everything to you. “One of Dad’s ex-girlfriends bought it for me on my eighth birthday. I never liked any of the women he brought home and introduced me, but she was probably the sanest and most normal one of all,” she calmly tells you, quickly adding, “That was before your Mom came in, by the way.” 

That makes you smile. Especially when you notice that her eyes are filled with fondness as she talks about your mother. 

“Anyway, she gave me the doll as a gift after she went for a trip abroad, and maybe I did like it because it made me happy to know that she thought about me. But the older I got, the weirder it felt for me to keep it, but every time I wanted to get rid of the doll, it made me feel guilty for even considering it because of how sweet she was to me,” she winces as she recalls the past. “When you ruined the doll, I was actually relieved. But I couldn’t show it to Dad since he thought I loved the doll so much that he even went out on his way to help take care of the doll for a long time, so I made it seem like losing the doll made me sad.” 

Your jaw drops and you laugh again. “Damn, I can’t believe I was gaslighted and framed by a twelve year-old.” 

“Sucks to be you,” Alia laughs back at you as she sips her drink. “Sorry for causing you some childhood trauma or whatever.” 

“It wasn’t so much of a trauma,” you say to her while scoffing. But that incident did leave an impression on you, regardless. And it wasn’t a good one. Looking back on it now, it does seem ridiculous for you to let it haunt your memories for so long. 

You are just about to share your thoughts to Alia when she finally speaks again. 

“On your eleventh birthday, you started calling him Dad,” she says, her voice dull, but you can feel the weight of her words when you hear them. It takes a moment for it to sink in, until you finally realise— 

“Oh—” Oh. You swallow hard and take a deep breath, realising that she is talking about Cliff. “Did you, uh—were you worried that I might take him away from you?” 

Alia smiles bitterly. “I’m not sure. Maybe?” She shrugs. “As a kid, I may have harboured an unrealistic fantasy that one day, my Mom and Dad would make up, get back together, and everything would be back to how it used to be.” 

She looks at you with a small smile. “But then Daddy met your Mom, and my Mom became more unhinged after the divorce and dealing with the consequences of her affair that it was becoming more obvious Dad would have never taken her back, no matter what.” 

The more she speaks, sharing her deep, darkest secret, the more you are able to understand her. For all these years, you simply thought that Alia has resented you for childish reasons. You never knew that she had nurtured the heartbreak of an innocent child for so many years. Silently hurting without anyone else knowing. 

“But it was the day you began calling him Dad that finally broke me out of that fantasy and forced me to accept that they were never going back together,” she says, sighing deeply with a broken smile on her face, which only deepens the guilt that you feel for becoming a part of it. “Maybe—that was the moment I started seeing you differently.” 

“I—didn’t know,” you murmur, and then you begin to recall how Alia kept avoiding to spend time with her father on the weekends when she was a teenager. “You started to come by less and less by then.” 

Your parents had excused Alia’s absence at the time as her newfound need of being independent. But you know better now. 

Alia releases a sigh, as if opening to you is helping her relief some of her own weight. “Dad was so happy because you and your family welcomed him into your lives. I guess that was really important to him. The more I watched him having a new family that was a whole, the more I resented it. Seeing you with Daddy—” she stops with a sharp intake of breath, “I guess the child in me felt like I was being replaced and I couldn’t take it.” 

“Alia—” 

She cuts you off with one look, with a gaze that is surprisingly warm. “You know what’s worse?” she asks. 

“The way Dad keeps bragging about you in front of me and anyone from his side of the family whenever he has the chance to. You have always been smarter, you’ve gained everything you wanted in life with your own effort. You have a good job, a nice apartment and, for a time, you had a long-time boyfriend, while I’m still floating through life,” she says with a wistful tone of voice instead of a bitter one. “I have no steady job, and I’m still moving around instead of settling down, which left me with no chance to start any serious relationship to brag about in front of everyone. So I suppose that makes me feel inferior when I have to face you.” 

You have no idea what to say. Because you had no idea about any of this. Still, you feel guilty, even if none of this was your fault when all you ever did was live your life the way you wanted it to. 

“Last year, I think that’s when I came to my limit,” Alia adds with a chuckle. “I guess somewhere in my mind, I had this thought that since you already stole my Dad, maybe I could steal something that was yours for a change.” 

Once again, your jaw drops. You let out a gasp. “Hey, that’s fucked up!” 

She laughs at your reaction. “I know! And I’m sorry, alright?” she says, still laughing and lifting both of her hands at you. But she quickly sobers up, looking genuinely concerned when she asks, “Seriously, though. Did you break up—” 

You quickly shake your head. “No. He chose his career over our relationship,” you admit to her. “He has always been like that. He’s always so crazy about work, a perfectionist, and not only does he have a big ego, he also has big ambitions. I think he pushed me to match his pace, whether he realised it or not, which became the reason why I managed to gained everything I have now.” 

Looking back, you have to admit that your ex was the one who gave you the drive which helped you get where you are now. As much as you hate to admit it, you do owe him that much for your current life, despite everything. 

“In a way, he pushed and motivated me to constantly be a better version of myself. But, deep down, I was starting to get tired of it.” You recall all the fights, the arguments, the agony that you felt when he belittled you for your need to start going in your own pace instead of following his. “I never realised how exhausting it was with him until we broke up. He made me feel like I was on a race against him instead of in a relationship where we were both equals in life.” 

Alia slowly nods her head with a silent understanding. “What happened last year with your ex was also the reason why I asked Taehyung to come with me,” she confesses with a shy smile.

“I felt so bad for everything that happened, and I had no idea how to fix it. I thought that if I brought someone with me this year, not only would I be able to shut my Mom up about trying to hook me up with some snobby guy from her circle and pushing me into marriage”—she rolls her eyes—”I would also be able to show everyone here, and you, that I had no desire to steal your boyfriend from you.” 

You grin at her. “That explains why it was shocking for you to find out that I already broke up.” 

“Obviously,” she scoffs. “That thwarted all of my plans.” You laugh together while she continues to complain about it. How she had meticulously planned everything to clear her reputation and avoid adding more drama between you.  

“But I couldn’t give up the gig. I know that Dad still keeps in touch with my Mom once in a while because of me, and she would call him to check on me if she’d heard I was coming, so if I let everyone know that Taehyung and I aren’t actually dating, my Mom would sit me down next to any bachelor of the year that she had chosen for me at the family gathering with just a snap of her fingers,” she sneers, lifting her hand to snap her fingers in the same manner that you imagine her mother would do. 

“And, as always, I had to mess everything up too because of my stupid plans,” she heavily sighs. “Sorry, by the way.” 

Scoffing lightly, you simply wave her off. “It’s not your fault. If only Taehyung and I had talked when we had the chance,” you finally admit, realising that you are also to blame for avoiding to speak to him right away, “Or if he had told you about me when I asked him to, then maybe the three of us could have figured something out.” 

Alia nods her head in agreement, and then her lips rise to a slow smile. “I didn’t expect that Honey would be the one stirring the pot when it was already boiling.” 

That makes you laugh again. “Honestly? I had expected that Honey would be the first to notice. I just didn’t expect her to blast me right in front of the whole family.” 

Sipping her hot cocoa slowly, Alia hums. “Maybe it was meant to work that way. Or else, I feel like neither of us would find any chance to spill out the truth, as bitter and ridiculous it might sound to admit,” she says, and you cannot help but agree with her. Even with no resolution have yet to be made, you can feel some of the weight of your troubles being lifted from you. 

Everything may have gone messy, yet for some reason, the future doesn’t seem so bleak when you are looking at it one last time. Then Alia gently adds, further encouraging the hope that is slowly blooming inside you. 

“Taehyung—he won’t be joining me to see my Mom. He’s driving back home, either in the morning or before noon, I’m not sure. You should go see him and talk.” 

“I—” you swallow hard. “I want to. We do need to talk, but—” 

Alia stops you by shaking her head. “No buts. You have a baby on the way, and I’m sure—seeing his reaction last night—he would want to be a part of it. Only if you’d let him.” 

That immediately shuts you up, taking away all the excuses that you have to run away and avoid facing him. You still remember seeing the way he was clutching your sonogram possessively as if it was his lifeline, and you have yet to get the sonogram back from him when he left. 

“Even without the baby—” Alia continues, noticing how you are still deep in your thoughts. “The favour that I mentioned? I think it might have something to do with you. I’m not sure what it was though, because he hasn’t had the chance to say anything about it. He only said that it had something to do with what happened during his trip from that time.” 

You know that she is right. The only problem is mustering the courage to go and see him in person. After what your family had put him through last night, you have no idea how to face him, feeling too guilty that he got roped into so much mess because you couldn’t tell him the truth when you had the chance.

“Well, while you take your time considering it, I should go back to my room. I have another Christmas event that I would need to mentally prepare to,” Alia says as she steps out of her seat. You watch her walking around the counter to put away her empty mug before smiling at you. “Thanks for the nice chat, and the hot chocolate.”

You return her smile and nod. “So—are we good?” 

That makes her chuckle. She stops before going out into the hall and shrugs. “Yeah, you’re okay. I guess we are.” 

“Does that mean we’re friends now?” you tease her, drawing a scoff from her. 

“Ugh—don’t push your luck, kid. Don’t even think about us being sisters,” she says, pointing at you. 

“Never would’ve dreamed of it,” you respond with a chuckle. Still, you are overcome with relief now that the old tension between you are lifted. “Good luck with your Mom.” 

“Thanks. Good luck with—” she says, “well, everything.” She turns away, but not before giving you one final warning, “I’m serious. Go talk to him. Don’t worry about the others, or about how Daddy would react. I’ll hold down the fort and explain everything to them until you’re back.” 

Your grip on the steering wheel tightens just as your stomach tightens with churning doubt. 

The thought of seeing Taehyung, alone, seems nerve-racking. You have no idea what to expect once you get there, or what you are going to say, which only makes you even more nervous the further you are getting from home. 

Your thoughts are filled with worrying that things may not go as planned. Not that you really had any plan to go with other than to talk to him, stop him from leaving, and maybe find out what the future hold—if there is any hope there. 

The weather outside seems dreary, which is no help at all. Even under the winter sunlight that appears brighter than usual, the snow keeps falling thickly from the sky, the trees standing on either side of the streets are swaying dangerously towards various directions due to the intense wind. 

Weather does hate me, you wonder to yourself as you glance through the side mirror, wondering why these things keep happening to you during critical times such as this one.

Getting more impatient, the urge to press down on the accelerator feels so strong, yet you fight it the best you can, recalling the promise you made when you stepped out of the house. 

Honey was right, it was a bad idea to be driving out under this weather. She was the one who warned you about the weather when you were about to leave, which you simply ignored because the sky was bright, the wind was steady, and your intention to see Taehyung was strong. 

You should have learned from experience and took your time checking today’s weather forecast to find out just how quickly the weather could change. 

Looking at the fierce weather, it seems obvious that things are about to get even worse. A white jeep breezes past your tiny city car, causing your car to sway, and you feel a pull to match its speed. But then you see it nearly slipping on the road as the jeep makes a turn right ahead, and you heart stops. Your car slows as you start hearing Honey’s voice warning you about how easy the road becomes slippery on days like this. 

“Drive carefully. Even if you want to risk your life getting out there, at least think about that baby,” Honey’s voice echoes in your head, stopping you before you could even think of picking up speed again once the road clears up before you. 

“There’s nothing to worry about. With this weather, he couldn’t have left yet,” you convince yourself, though your doubt keeps pushing back nearly tenfold. 

He couldn’t just leave, right? 

Turning with reduced speed on the next intersection, you curse under your breath. It feels like it’s taking you forever to reach the motel, and when you still see no sign of getting any closer to the motel, you begin to wonder if you’ll manage to get there at all. 

“Damn it, Alia. Why did you have to choose that motel? There’s a bunch of them closer to home.” 

Obviously, there is nobody here to answer your question. So the only thing that you can do is to force yourself to calm down, focus on the road—and in not slipping or sending your car into a ditch—and find the motel as fast—and as safely—as you can. 

Quiet Peaks Motel. Room 1109. 

You almost laughed when Alia gave you the room number where Taehyung has been staying in. The irony of having those numbers shown to your face, reminding you of that night from six weeks ago. 

“I suppose this is what people call a Christmas miracle.” 

You let out a scoff as Skye’s words ring back to you. Christmas miracle my butt, you inwardly scoff at the notion. A queer coincidence, that’s what this is. 

Not too long, you are driving your car into the small parking lot of Quiet Peaks Motel. With your head covered under the hood of your coat, you challenge the cold to rush into the motel without taking a look around to see if his car is still here. Past the receptionist desk, you follow Alia’s guide to find Taehyung’s room. 

Room 1109. 

Shaking off the snow that has gotten all over your body, you take a deep breath, and knock on the door. A few seconds pass. 

No answer. 

Another knock, just a bit harder this time. And all you have in return is silence. No. No. No—

You raise your hand again, ready to give it another try while refusing to accept the possibility that he is no longer there, when finally—finally—you hear a click, and the door slowly opens. Taehyung appears before you, with wide, curious eyes and a smile slowly lifting on his lips, like a piece of a fantasy manifesting into something real. 

“You’re still here,” you breathe a sigh of relief, drawing a low chuckle from him. 

Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest as he hovers by the doorway, the small smile on his face unwavering. “Alia called. Warned me not to run away,” he gently says.

The thought of him driving off to leave town, running away before you could see him, feels like a bolt piercing through your heart. “Were you—trying to run?” 

“I felt the urge to,” he admit while lowering his gaze, briefly avoiding your eyes. “But I couldn’t.” 

You can hear the sound of your heartbeat. “Because of the blizzard happening outside?” 

Taehyung looks up, and his smile deepens when he steps aside. “Why don’t you come in? It’s getting colder. You can warm up inside.” There is a playful glint in his eyes which says the unspoken words—

With me. 

Drawn by the look in his eyes, your legs begin to move on their own. Your arm brushes against him as you walk past him, just barely, and your skin prickles warmly, as if the thick winter coat that you are wearing is nonexistent.  

Taehyung takes your coat, shaking the remaining snow that is still attached to it before hanging it on the coat rack by the door while you step out of your snow-coated boots, refusing to leave trails of snow and dirt on his floor as he pulls you inside. He guides you to take a seat on the edge of the bed while he takes the one-seater from the corner of the room and places it across from you. 

Sitting back, he wears a playful smile on his face. He seems giddy, with a twinge of wariness that is quite noticeable coming out of him—both feelings are something that you also share as you sit with your back straightened while your legs are shaking.

Sitting here like this allows you to get a good look at Taehyung. And for the first time, you notice the boyish charm in him that looks—adorable. You can see it better when he smiles, when he looks at you with an expectant look in his yes, and when he doesn’t seem to be able to remain calm. 

You have no idea why you had never seen this side of him before. Has he been hiding this part of him? Because, if you want to be honest with yourself, you like seeing this side of Taehyung, maybe even more than the side that he has allowed you to see before today. 

If comfort is a person, this side of him fits the picture, you wonder to yourself with a smile. 

Speaking of pictures—

Your eyes travel around the room, taking notice of the place where he has been staying at. The room is undoubtedly smaller than the suite that he booked back at the transit hotel, but not any smaller than your own bedroom back home. The bed that you are sitting on feels soft, with wooden bed frames that makes it seem sturdy. There is a single vanity table that stretches out on one wall, also functioning as a writing desk, an electric fireplace in the corner that is running with a soft hum, and a wall-mounted television that has been kept on with its volume lowered to fill the room with its white noise. 

Your eyes fall on the long table, on the small object that catches your attention.

“Would you like to drink?” Taehyung asks you as the silence stretches out for too long, and you look at him with a smile. 

“Sure, I’d love to.” 

Nodding, he rises from his seat to grab a drink from the corner cabinet, while you do the same. Drawn towards the small object that Taehyung had placed on the table like a precious jewel—your sonogram. 

“I didn’t mean to keep it with me. But throughout all the chaos happening last night—” you can hear his voice getting closer and closer, yet you do nothing to look his way. Holding up the sonogram between your fingers, your eyes are focused completely on it, fixated at the clear proof of your future. You still have your eyes on it as his warmth comes pressing on your back, his voice feels like a gentle brush on your skin as he whispers close—

“—I just couldn’t let it go. It felt surreal whenever I looked at it. It was almost as if—I was actually holding that baby in my hands, and I needed to protect it.” 

His words send your mind into a daze, even when you notice the tremble in his voice. Everything he does next seems like parts of a dream. You notice his hand reaching out beside you, placing two objects which seem to be bottles of fresh juice on top of the table. And his hand stays there, palm pressing on the edge of the desk while his other hand is resting on your other side, practically caging you in place. 

Slowly, you turn around to face him. The sudden closeness makes you feel dizzy, yet the feeling is incomparable to the way your body is reacting when you look into his eyes. 

His dark eyes somehow appear even darker from up close. You feel nothing carnal in the way he is looking at you, nor the way he is giving you no chance to escape. But there is the heat that you feel reaching out to you, vibrating through his chest together with his heavy breath. 

“We are—” he murmurs, stopping briefly with a deep exhale of breath. “We’re expecting a baby.” He speaks as if he is trying to rewire his brain into accepting reality.

Your heart starts racing when you hear his words. 

We. That word seals everything in. 

And you can feel that sense of acceptance coming from him. You can easily see it written all over his face; in his gaze that looks resolved and in his warm smile that seems inviting. And then you get to see it coming together when he takes you in, his eyes landing on your belly. Even though covered under your thick sweater, he looks at you as if he can see what is hidden underneath. 

“We’re expecting a baby,” you whisper with a smile. “It’s still early. Very early. Which is why you might not see any changes, like seeing the baby in its fully grown form, or find out the gender yet, but we can already hear the heartbeat. We can arrange so you can join me on my next appointment with the doctor. That is, if you’d like.”

Putting all of your hopes into words feels risky. But thinking about him being there puts a smile on your face. That smile fades for a brief moment when you realise that you are also putting your heart at risk of being broken—be it from him, or from life. 

“Anything could still happen,” you add with a wry smile. The sceptical part of you slowly sneaking its way into your mind to take control. “But if you’re willing to go through this with me and—” 

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence when he suddenly reaches out to touch you. He brushes your cheek with the gentle touch of his fingers, and wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling you gently to him until you are nearly pressed into his chest. You bring your palms up to his chest in reflex, pressing against him as a barrier, separating you from his overwhelming warmth. 

You can feel his heartbeat picking up under your palms, just as your own heartbeat starts thundering inside your chest. 

“Last night, Cliff stole my chance to figure out or express how I felt about this,” he says with a nervous chuckle. “I was in so much shock both from the news and then Cliff’s reaction that I couldn’t say a word about it. But the moment I left your home and spent the night alone in this room, I finally got the chance to process everything.”

He stops, shaking his head before pressing his lips on your temple. “Still, I can’t believe that this is happening. But this is our new reality right now and I have to face it. No matter at what cost,” he whispers with his lips hovering against your temple.

“What—what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that I’m all in,” he says, pulling back so he can look at you. “I told you, didn’t I? You never really left my mind after that night. I’m not sure why, but waking up in the morning to see you gone back then got me curious and, well—” he chuckles. “It was all the reason why I got roped into Alia’s sneaky scheme, which I’m beginning to regret ever being a part of, but since we’re here anyway.” 

Taehyung lets out a dramatic sigh, drawing a curious smile to your face. 

His chest rises and falls as he exhales a deep breath. “Alia promised to help me once we’ve done the deal. And although I never told her specifically what I needed help with—” he grins, looking as if he is thinking back to the day he planned out this whole scheme with your stepsister. 

A scheme where he pretended to be dating her to trick your and Alia’s family. 

“Actually, I was already trying to find you. Alia has a lot of connections, gathered by traveling to different places and jumping between odd jobs, so I thought that maybe she would know how to solve that problem of mine,” he admits, and your skin flushes warmly when you realise that not only has he been thinking of you this whole time, but he had also thought of looking for you when you thought that he would have simply forgotten everything and moved on. 

“Things may have gone differently than I imagined, and not entirely in the right order. But technically speaking, she made it happen, just as promised,” he chuckles again, looking just amused at the situation as you are. “If I had known about the baby, I wouldn’t have asked you to hide from Alia that we got together at one point,” he grimaces. “I wasn’t sure what kind of situation Alia was in that would require her having a fake boyfriend, so I don’t know what telling her that we hooked up would do.” 

Frowning, you simply shake your head and murmur, “No, I should’ve told you right away. But like I said, I wasn’t prepared to see my baby’s daddy coming into my parents’ home holding hands with my stepsister.” 

Taehyung smiles and rubs his thumb across your cheek. “I’m sorry.” 

Your body shudders under his touch, but you cover it with a sigh. “Likewise,” you whisper. “But can we please stop talking about Alia right now?” 

He barks out a laugh. “Okay, if that’s what you want,” he says with a wide grin on his face. “Maybe you’ll be more interested in talking about something else, then?” 

You suck a deep breath as his eyes bore into yours. Even before he says it, you can somehow tell what he is thinking. There is something in his eyes that makes you feel hot inside. Something that feels intimidating, yet comforting at the same time, and it makes you want to dive into whatever it is that is offering you. 

As if he can read your mind, Taehyung starts staring at you the same way he did that night—with the same passion and hunger that are enough to engulf you as a whole. 

While you are captivated with his gaze, Taehyung leans in, stealing a kiss from your lips before you realise what is happening. He begins with a gentle, tentative kiss, as if he is testing to see how you are going to react. But with your emotion heightened, and relief warming your chest, the innocent kiss that he is giving you is already enough to send heat flushing through your body.

Your fingers sink into his sweater in a desperate clutch as you return his kiss, pressing your mouth onto his without any inhibitions. A sigh escapes from your throat, while he releases a deep grunt and begins to deepen the kiss. 

His tongue presses between the seams of your lips, penetrating into your mouth in seek of control. All the heat inside you starts swirling violently as he devours your lips, and it’s driving you crazy. Your thundering heartbeat presses against your chest and he keeps stealing your breath, leaving you gasping the moment he releases your lips. 

Yet Taehyung doesn’t stop. Giving you a few more pecks on your swollen lips, he then moves his kisses down the column of your throat, and your head falls back in an instant, helping him to travel lower until he rests his lips beneath your earlobe where he breathes out a sigh.  

“This wasn’t—” you gasp as he nips at your pulse, rocking your entire body at the touch of his teeth on your skin, “This wasn’t the reason why I came here for.” 

“Are you sure?” he hums against your skin. “We can stop if you want to. But you have to be the one to say the words.” His words make you swoon, but contrary to what he is saying to you, Taehyung continues to press his lips on your skin, making it hard for you to say a thing. “It’s been pure torture having to hold back, being in the same room with you but unable to do anything about it.” 

He leans back, looking at you with a deep gaze as he brushes his thumb across your swollen lips. “I kept seeing these lips and wishing I could kiss it.” 

Silently admitting that you feel the same way for him, your eyes move to his lips, noticing its swell, the faint crimson shade and the moisture that are left there after kissing you, and hazily blurt out, “Did you kiss Alia with that same mouth?”

“Fuck, no!” he says, making you laugh when he seems horrified at the thought of kissing your stepsister. “We’re friends, but not that close as friends to be smooching at each other.” 

The way he is scrunching his nose still makes you giggle. “Sorry, but—you know, I had to make sure.”

Taehyung snorts. “Of course you do,” he grumbles, although the mirth in his eyes turns, as he gives you an understanding look through them, now knowing what kind of relationship that you share with Alia. “There are a lot of things about your stepsister that you might not know about.” 

His words remind you of the short conversation that you had with your stepsister this morning. Deep down, you realise that he is right. With so many years spent harbouring a deep misunderstanding between one another, you realise that you never really knew her at all. Closing your eyes, you tell yourself that you can revisit this later. 

“Are you going to spend the rest of the day trying to butter me up so I can start being best friends with my stepsister, or are you going to kiss me again?” you question him with a grin on your face once you open your eyes again. 

He returns your grin with his own, showing you that same boyish charm that makes you swoon as he murmurs, “I think I like the second option a lot better.” 

Giggling, you release your grip on his sweater and move to wrap your arms around his neck, meeting him halfway just as he leans down to capture your lips again. “An excellent choice, Sir. I do like that option much better as well.”

Once his lips descend on yours once again, they don’t come down gently. They crash into yours, and you can feel his urgency, his hunger, everything that he had spent days withholding for the sake of the god-awful scheme. The kiss melts every cell in your body. It weakens your knees, leaving your arms as the only thing holding you up against him. 

His hands feel hot on your skin as he runs them down your waist, your hips, the heat penetrating through your thick sweater and jeans. You instinctively arch your chest against his, while your legs are moving, rubbing against each other when his touch sends your pulse rising, hot blood flowing down right between your legs. 

Fuck, why I am so sensitive? 

Right as you are wondering if your pregnancy has anything to do with the way your body is reacting, Taehyung folds his body and grabs the back of your thighs to lift you up. 

“Oh, God—” you pull away with a gasp, surprised with the sudden lost of balance. Tightening your arms around his neck, you hold on to him as he turns. His smile widens, looking as if he is proud of himself, and then he drops you onto the bed, gentle as he puts you down until you are lying on your back. 

You shift backwards until you are at the center of the bed with him following close behind. His gaze remains on your face as he starts crawling over the mattress, not stopping until he is hovering above you. He doesn’t settle his weight on top of you right away, but instead grabs a gentle hold at the hem of your sweater. With a quick work of his hands, the sweater is gone, tossed somewhere across the room. He doesn’t let you see where it went as he bends down, hovering close above you.  

“Doesn’t this make you think back about that night?” he asks, with a deep voice that has your entire body trembling. He ignites more reaction out of you with a gentle kiss at the crook of your neck. 

“Something is”—you gasp, shuddering under his kiss—“something is different, though.” 

His warm breath comes brushing on your skin with his deep chuckle. “You can tell, huh? I did some workout after that vacation,” he brags to you while wiggling his eyebrows, making you laugh. 

“I’d say you may have gotten your money’s worth. A little bit,” you tease him as you reach down between your bodies for his zipper. 

You can feel his hard cock pressing against your palm. Even while hidden under his pants, you can feel the heat coming from him as you rub your palm against his covered bulge, moving it back and forth until you feel him hardening under your touch. 

“Are you going to continue staring at me, or are you going to fuck me?” you whisper, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with how much you need him. 

And he is the only one to blame. When his sole existence stirs your every being. With one glance coming from his eyes, butterfly wings flutter inside your body, touching all the crevices that aren’t filled with past hurt and the baby’s presence and filling them with warmth. 

With one touch, your whole body comes alight, and you are feeling it now as he brushes his fingers along the expanse of your waist. As tough your blood is on fire as it runs through your veins, even with nothing more but a light graze on your skin. 

Taehyung licks his lips. His desire is written so clearly on his face. But then his gaze moves down your body, lingering on your stomach that is completely exposed now that you no longer have your sweater covering your skin. 

“Will it be okay?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned. His voice sounds tight, filled with worries, which gives your chest a tight pinch. 

When was the last time you had someone—other than your family—to be so concerned about your wellbeing? Granted, there is a baby that is involved in all of this, and it would be normal for him to care, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling like he is seeing right through you. 

“I think I read somewhere that the baby will be okay,” you look down at your stomach and start rubbing your hand gently over it. “Maybe we can go gentle. At least until we get to see the OB and ask more.” 

“Good idea,” he says with a smile, while you feel soft inside. But when his hand begins to move again, his thumb grazing down your exposed stomach, the heat rises back up and he is back in the game. 

His smouldering gaze feels like a complete opposite to the softness in his voice when he says, “Alright, I can do gentle. Just tell me if it gets too much, or you can lead the pace so I won’t make any mistake.” 

He wears the same wicked smile that stole your heart many nights ago as he lifts off from your body. You watch with your teeth nibbling at your bottom lip as he begins stripping himself. His sweater comes off, showing you his hard chest and filled arms which you haven’t had the chance to appreciate in the past. 

This time, you get to see everything with a clear mind. Instead of feeling hazy with intoxication, all you can feel now is the haze coming from your need for him.  

Reaching down to his pants, he pushes down his zipper. With a mocking grin, he makes a great gesture of pushing down his pants, only to stop once he hears your moan. 

“God, I missed hearing that sound coming out of your lips,“ he murmurs. He immediately returns to you and pushes your pants and panties down in one motion. Your bra comes off right before your butt comes back down on the bed. Having not an inch of your skin covered while you are lying there makes you feel exposed and vulnerable. Yet he keeps a gentle hold on your waist, holding you still while he takes you in. 

“I remember thinking that you were beautiful, but it beats seeing you in this kind of light to see what I didn’t get to see,” he murmurs, almost groaning as he takes you in. 

Licking your lips, you hold back, keeping your voice from trembling to answer, “We were both kinda drunk, so—” 

“Were we?” he chuckles softly and returns to you again, as if he can’t take being apart from you for too long. He presses his lips on your collarbone and whispers, “Good thing we get the chance to change that.” 

Your legs come up and wrap around his waist the moment he is back on top of you. The way his hard chest is pressing on your bare breasts feels heavenly. You can feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest, almost at the same rhythm as yours. But your attention is quickly drawn away once you try to move your hips to get comfortable beneath his weight, only to unintentionally rub yourself against his body.

You can feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh as you brush against him. Heat pools right at the depth of your core once you feel just how badly he wants you. It grows more intense as he pushes back into you, rubbing his covered cock against your center until you feel your wet arousal soiling the front of his pants. 

Yet still, the friction isn’t enough to satiate your needs. 

“Taehyung—” 

The moment he hears you calling his name—his real name—something dark and feral flashes through his gaze. As if saying his name in the heat of desire snaps something inside him that needs to be unleashed. 

His mouth comes down to capture yours just then, claiming you with a deep kiss. You writhe beneath him while he devours your lips, pressing against his center in a silent plea to have him striping himself off of the restricting pants and letting you feel him. 

Without saying a word, he understands what you are asking for and complies. With a reluctant sigh, he pulls back. He keeps his eyes on you the whole time as he pushes down his pants and boxer briefs until he is completely bare. His hard cock immediately springs free right before your eyes, drawing your attention towards it the same way it did the first night you were with him. 

“Say it again,” he says to you with a deep voice. A rough sigh escapes him as he wraps his hand around his girth and starts stroking himself, making himself hard and ready while he pleads with you, “Say my name.” 

“Taehyung,” you call him with a soft moan, and he lets go every last bit of his restrictions and covers your whole body with his. 

His mouth crashes down on yours, kissing you passionately until your body grows hot. A moan slips from you, and his tongue sweeps in between your parted lips, getting entangled with yours and you are immediately lost. You barely notice it when his hand moves down, slipping between your bodies to find the source of your heat. 

He flicks at your nether lips, drawing a gasp from your lips, and your hips rise up to welcome him. Then he slides a finger into your pulsing core, entering you until you are arching against his chest, overwhelmed with the sensation that he draws out of your body as he buries his finger deeper into your pussy. 

While he slides his finger in and out of you, his mouth remains pressed on yours, swallowing every sound you are making. Drowning every cries, every moans, while he continues devouring you as though you are his lifeline. 

The pleasure rises, and your body starts moving on its own before you can control it. You start grinding against his finger, needing more. It starts with a slow rock, but the more the pleasure climbs within your body, you continue grinding harder and harder onto his hand. This seems to amuse him, as you can feel his smile growing against his lips before he pulls away, freeing you from his searing kiss. 

Yet his hand continues to move, not resting until you can finally find release. “That’s it, ______. Give it to me, baby. Come for me,” he whispers with his deep voice like a spell. 

Under his encouraging words and his relentless strokes, you finally reach your orgasm. It feels so intense you can almost feel as if your body shatters in his hold, with your breath coming out in broken pants and your moans rising higher. 

With a gentle move, he pulls his finger out of you, leaving behind a series of small spasms inside your pussy from the climax. 

You immediately feel empty. But he doesn’t make you wait long as he positions himself between your parted legs, and his heavy hard-on comes right where his finger had been. His cock slides in between your slit, moving back and forth as he rocks his hips. The friction draws the slick sound of your release as he continues rubbing the entire length of his cock against your hot cunt. 

As your body continues to shudder beneath him, Taehyung lets out a deep groan. “Can’t wait, baby. Need to be inside you now.” 

“Yes, fuck me, Taehyung,” you cry out, and those exact words are the ones that draw him to move. 

You should have been prepared for it, yet your mind and body are somewhat occupied. Distracted by the blinding pleasure that he keeps pulling out of you, you are not ready when he slams his cock into you. You instantly cry out, and Taehyung stills inside you. 

You can feel your muscles clenching, pulsing around him in small spasms of pleasure at the sudden invasion. It draws a moan out of him, and he holds you in his arms to help soothe you through it until you are more accustomed to his width filling you up. 

“You okay, baby? I’m sorry,” he whispers with his lips pressing gently on your skin. Starting from your neck, your chin, and then he keeps making his way up to capture your parted lips. His kiss is soft, barely a flutter, but with every pulse rising in your body, you can feel the heat shooting right into your core. 

You wait just long enough until the pounding sound of your heartbeat eases before answering him, “I’m okay.” 

You start to wiggle under his weight, moving your hips to test if it’s going to hurt. When you feel that your muscles are no longer tense, and nothing but pleasure rushes through your body, you start moving your hips more. Grinding down his length, you can feel your hot walls contracting around his thick cock. It draws a sharp hiss out of his lips, and he jerks his hips against you, as though he is close to losing control. 

“Are you going to stay there the entire time we’re here”—you tease him while tightening your legs around his waist, your hands on his hard shoulders—”or are you going to fuck me?”  

Taehyung lets out a deep chuckle and begins to move. “So impatient. It’s been a while, so I’m only letting you act like a brat just this once,” he growls against your lips as he rocks his hips, moving in a slow pace. 

It feels so good. But you want more. You need more. 

With your heels pressing on his back, you rock back against him, grinding into his cock. He reacts with a groan, murmuring to you, “Fuck, that feels good. You want more?” 

The pleasure continues climbing. It starts to feel overwhelming that words fail you. The only thing you can give him is a nod. A sharp gasp comes out of your lips when he starts picking up his pace, going faster while pushing deeper with each thrust. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” he nearly begs, sounding desperate when you have yet to give him words in response to him. “Please, baby. Promise me. I’m barely holding on here, but I don’t want to hurt you or the baby.” 

His voice goes in and out of your senses, yet you still manage to hear what he is trying to say. “I’m fine, Taehyung. I won’t hide it, I promise.” 

He lets out a relieved sigh and smashes his lips on yours. “Good,” he groans against your lips. “Hang on tight then, baby.” 

Those words become the last warning as the force and speed of his thrusts escalate, hitting you deep and hard until your toes are curling and your throat feels tight with the urge to cry out in pleasure. Your chest rises in an arch at the sensations you are getting as your hard nipples are rubbing against his chest. 

But your mind is clear enough for you to do exactly what he asked of you. 

Your legs are pressing around him, not tight enough to make it hard for him to move, but enough to keep you attached to him. Your arms are around him, fingers running up to the nape of his neck and pulling at the back of his hair, while the other hand runs down his back, nails sinking into his skin as he takes you on a wild ride.  

Pleasure explodes through your body under his hard strokes. Your mouth falls open with a series of strained cries, calling his name. You wish he would lean down, to kiss you, to drown the sounds of pleasure that you are unable to hold in. Yet Taehyung chooses to pull back, allowing himself to keep his eyes on you as he continues with his relentless thrusts, making sure that he wouldn’t miss any sign of pain that may show on your face. 

But the pain that you had expected to come from his rough lovemaking only extends the pleasure. The wet sounds of his thrusts pushing deep inside you fills the room, growing intense by the minute. Your skin flushes warmly as blood pulses deep in your core, your pussy walls flutter around his girth, letting him know how close you are to reach the edge. 

“Are you close, baby? Do you want to come?” he whispers to you with a groan, and you find yourself crying out,

“Yes, Taehyung—I’m close. Please, let me cum. Please—” 

With his hands reaching down your hips, he lifts your bottom half slightly off the mattress, placing you in a new angle that allows him to reach deeper. Your whole body quakes once he finds your sweet spot, and as he repeatedly pushes his cock against that hidden spot inside you, you soon feel him pushing you over the edge, with him not slowing down even for just a moment. And you take it all while you continue clinging desperately to him with your nails sinking into the skin on his back. 

Pleasure flares through you like fireworks. A new wave of raw pleasure overcomes you, and your body erupts with the first wave of your orgasm. It flows smoothly through your body, but still intense enough to knock the air out of your chest. You cry out with a strained voice, your entire body shuddering beneath him. 

You heave as wave after wave of pleasure overcome your body, yet Taehyung shows no sign of stopping. Still not having enough, he still fills you up with long, deep strokes that rock your body and the entire bed together.

With every shake of your body, your nipples grow hard that they start to hurt as your skin keeps rubbing against his chest. Looking between you, Taehyung’s eyes turn darker with lust. You force yourself to watch him through your haze, feeling more than seeing it when he runs one hand down your belly. 

His big palm stays there, as if silently greeting the baby growing inside, before it continues to travel lower, finding home right where your bodies are joined. With his thumb and forefinger, he flicks at your engorged clit. Already throbbing and growing sensitive with the amount of frictions happening all at once, it sends your hips rising as another wave of pleasure rises from your core. 

Deep groans escape his lips as he savours the sight of you embracing the pleasure, and he continues playing with your clit—rubbing, flicking, pinching, drawing pain and pleasure over the constant thrusting of his cock. And just when you are feeling it building up once more from within, the telltale of your orgasm that you have been depraved of for so long, Taehyung leans down, capturing one taut nipple between his mouth and bites down. 

"Oh god. Oh god. I'm going to come again,” you cry out with your hips rising to meet each hard thrust that he is giving you.

“Yes, that’s it. Cum for me like a good girl," he croons against your skin, which sends you straight into the next round of climax while you are still riding the aftershock of your last one.

Your body shudders as another orgasm rocks your entire body, and your muscles clamp around his hard cock, sucking him with a tight clench as he thrusts in and out, pushing deep and sending your body shaking violently as you finally succumb into an earth-shattering orgasm that takes away the last drop of strength that you still have. 

And the force of your final orgasm is what sets him off. 

With a deep groan, and a rough tremble of his chest, Taehyung finally finds his release. You can feel his warmth filling your insides, his cock twitching and pumping between your spasming walls, and you are almost sure that the wicked sensation of him filling you up with his cum is enough to send you to a smaller, much more subtle climax. 

It takes a while for you to come down from the height of your release, and Taehyung is there, helping you to ride off your orgasm with the slow strokes of his cock and the gentle brush of his fingers as he slowly comes to halt. 

Once everything is done, your body is completely spent that you are unable to move. Your legs have turned languid as Taehyung gently drops them back onto the bed. The room is filled with the sound of deep breathing as both of you are fighting to catch your breaths. 

You can barely feel your arms moving, but essentially, he is freed from your tight hold, allowing him to pull out of you before dropping down beside you. 

The room no longer feels cold now that your entire body is burning hot. Seeing the thin sheet of sweat on his skin, you know that Taehyung is feeling the same heat, yet it doesn’t stop him from turning to his side and wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. 

The sound of your intense heartbeat makes it hard for you to listen to any other sounds. You feel so tired. The lack of sleep you had last night is making it hard for you to fight off the drowsiness that is coming over you. Feeling relieved and sated, you just want to give in to sleep. 

Your eyelids keep growing heavy, and once your breath is calm, you can feel Taehyung’s gentle kiss pressing on your temple. His voice is barely a whisper when he murmurs to you, “——sleep, rest for a while. It’s not like we’re in any rush to get anywhere, right?” 

You open your mouth to answer him, yet your body fights against it. His words seem to act like a spell, when you are soon taken deep into slumber, falling into a dreamless sleep with his arms wrapped around your body. 

When you finally come to, the soft light of the afternoon sun is slowly penetrating through the windows. 

It feels warm inside, especially now that you have a blanket covering your naked body and his heavy arm resting languidly around your waist, yet you know that the same cannot be said with the weather outside. Even without opening your eyes, you can still hear the sound of the fierce wind hitting the windows, and you doubt that the road would be safe enough for you to drive out of this place. 

You find yourself curling against Taehyung’s bare chest as you properly come to wake. His heartbeat is steady, and you can feel it when he starts waking up. 

“Hey, there—” you whisper, greeting him with a sleepy smile, which he returns with his goofy smile. “Was I asleep for a long time?” 

Taehyung shakes his head. “No, not long enough,” he whispers. “I also just woke up, though. So—” 

Chuckling softly, you stretch out next to him. Your muscles are lax, and while you still feel worn-out, the short nap has restored your energy some. It helps clear your mind, yet you still refuse to move a muscle. 

Glancing at Taehyung, you notice that he has a faraway look in his eyes. He keeps his gaze out the window, and you start wondering what he is thinking about. 

“Do you think we’re going to be okay?” Taehyung asks you with a gentle sigh.

You close your eyes briefly and sigh contently before answering, “With the baby? I mean, it might be a struggle at first. I know because I haven’t really grasp the fact that I’m carrying your baby, but—” 

“No, I’m not talking about this,” he says with his hand waving around your entangled bodies. “I’m talking about—” he waves his hand to point at the window. The muted light of the sun that you saw earlier is still looking bleak, more of a pale-grey than the usual golden, with the wild swirls of snow dropping from the sky and no sign of the blizzard letting up anytime soon. “That.” 

He sighs. “I feel like we’ve had strings of bad luck constantly following us.” 

Smiling against his chest, you know what he is trying to say. “We slept together twice, and both happened due to bad weather,” you deliberately deduce his thoughts with a hum. “Is that what you’re saying?” 

“Yeah,” he says with a delirious chuckle, finding it somewhat funny now that you have voiced his thoughts out loud. “Looks like we’re stranded together, again, until the wind starts letting up. They say it’s going to be soon, but I’m not sure.” 

You cannot stop smiling the more you think about it. “Funny how it keeps happening to us, huh? At least we can remember this day as the first Christmas morning we celebrated together,” you say this with a grin, as you pull back to rub at your stomach from over the blanket. “Just the three of us.”

Taehyung follows your gaze and scoffs. “Way to go for making me feel guilty about stealing you from your family on Christmas Day,” he grumbles, making you laugh. “And if we’re actually doing this, uh—this relationship, do you think it’ll be weird?” 

You look up to him, seeing the frown forming on his face. Before you can question what he means by it, Taehyung continues to explain, “Maybe I shouldn’t come to see your family again next Christmas, or anytime soon. At least until we’re settled and everyone has forgotten about everything.” 

The way he says it, and the way he looks when he did, makes you want to laugh. “I think we’re good. And you can always join us next year. Besides, the holidays aren’t so bad with you around. Not this year. It beats sitting down and listening to other people’s stories for once.” 

Hearing this, Taehyung raises his eyebrows at you. “Even with all the drama we had with your sister?” he asks, sounding doubtful. “In case you forgot, I almost had a brawl with your stepfather.” 

For the first time ever, you doesn’t feel any need to correct him by calling Alia as your stepsister. That thought makes you smile. But you keep it to yourself, and instead lean up to kiss his cheek to help ease his mind out of it. 

“What we had?” you question him with a teasing voice, “that’s nothing. You haven’t experienced having Aunt Janey around. Have you ever read or heard those Reddit stories about entitled aunts? She would have gotten all the trophies if anyone in the family has ever written anything about her online.” 

You smile as Taehyung listens to you with a chuckle, and you can feel his worries slowly being lifted. “And as for Dad—” you let out a sigh as you think about your protective stepfather, “let’s just hope that Alia manages to butter him up to let things go. You know that he’s weak when it comes to her. Or, you can buy him a drink the next time you see him.” 

Taehyung purses his lips as he considers this. For a moment, he doesn’t seem to believe your words, but he still nods his head either way. “Fine, I guess we can talk about that later. We’ll cross the bridge when we get there, I suppose?” he asks with a bashful smile. “Why don’t we focus on you for now, and the baby?” 

You prop yourself up on your elbow while holding up the blanket with the other arm to cover your nakedness from his hungry eyes. “Alright, what do you want to know?” 

“Everything,” he says with a grin as he sits up against the bed’s headrest. “Should we continue and maybe do this with a late lunch, though? I’m starving. I couldn’t eat anything at breakfast.” 

“Are you famished for food, or—” you tease him by leaning closer, “Do you have an appetite for another thing?

He groans. “If the second option has anything to do with you, then the answer would be both. But we need to get some food in our system if we want to get back into the other.” 

Laughing, you finally step out of the bed to call for the room service. You continue to spend the rest of the day with him, chatting over the meal, talking about your future plans and all the mundane things that you need to know about each other, before the heat between you picks up again and he pulls you back into bed.

Warmth envelopes you the entire time you are with him, regardless of the winter storm that is still happening outside of these walls. 

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading this story! Any likes, kudos, comments, and feedbacks will be appreciated. See you in the next story :)

© All rights reserved. 2024 Yoonia — Unauthorized use and/or duplication of these works, including reposting, translating and modification in any form, is strictly prohibited. 

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"EX-BOYFRIEND NANAMI"

A/N: This was a request by @patpatspatz yes, it's long and there will be a part 2 :)

Pairings: Nanami x Afab reader

Warning: Little bit of angst, swearing

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami who broke up with you two years ago because he was afraid that he’ll lose you like he lost Haibara. You told him it was a stupid reason and that Jujutsu Sorcerers don’t live long so why not be happy and be in love while you still can. He was adamant about his decision so you told Principal Yaga that you're moving to Kyoto to teach there instead. 

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami who saw a glimpse of you walking the aisles of Tokyo Jujutsu High as all the sorcerers were called in a meeting of planning the defeat of Geto Suguru on December 24th. You still look so beautiful, he thought, especially now that your hair is longer. It suits you so well. He shook his thoughts immediately because he believes he doesn't have the right to think of you that way now. You had been dreading this meeting because you really don't want to see your ex but you can't say that because 1.) That’s so unprofessional and 2.) Geto Suguru is a threat now! But why the fuck does he look so good in that beige suit?! When did he become this hot? Ehem, you mean professional looking with his slick hair and blue glasses. You have been hiding yourself behind Miwa so he doesn't notice you but you can’t help glancing secretly at him (Fuck, he’s so handsome) but little did you know, he knew you were peeking at him so he hides a little smirk. Did you even listen to the plan or were you busy eye fucking your ex boyfriend?

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami who was now 2 feet away from you because Principal Yaga called the two of you after the meeting. You wished your Jujutsu technique was invisibility because you really want to vanish right here right now. Principal Yaga announced that the two of you will be assigned partners on December 24th as both of your techniques go well together and will help the Tokyo team a lot. Also, as the seniors in the Jujutsu world, it is both your duties to protect the younger sorcerers. “Uhm, sensei, I’m in Kyoto now, I can help there.” You protested. He shook his head and said, “Your techniques will be more valuable here and also they have Todo there and I’m pretty sure you've taught your students well, Y/N.” He eagerly smiled at you. Ugh, you should have left the Jujutsu world instead, you thought.

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami who understood and bowed to Principal Yaga and you turned around and left first. When he got to the door, you irritably whispered to him, “Don't get in my way.” When you were about to walk away, Nanami held your wrist in which you gave him ‘the let go of me or be killed look’. He immediately gently let go of your wrist and said, “I just want to say I’m sorry.” Then walked out. What the fuck was that? Why was he saying sorry? You wanted to hit him with your shoes just to ask him what was that all about but it’s too childish so you let it go.

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami who was now arguing with you about your tactics on your mission as you both agreed to meet up before the D-day. He wants to go on a defensive game plan but you want to kill as many curses as you can. 

“See that is the problem with you! All action but no thinking! You think you’re kind of like a superhuman who doesn't die?” He was losing his patience. You roll your eyes at him for the 10th time. He was really getting on your nerves, “Uhm? Last time I checked, I am a superhuman Nanami-san! I am not weak! So no, change your fucking plan or I’m going back to Kyoto!” 

“Yeah, sounds about right? You always run away! That's so you, Y/N!”

If you could use your Jujutsu technique on him, you would, you sighed and gave him a dagger look, “Run away? Fuck you, Nanami! I didn't run! You pushed me away, let’s be clear about that.” and with that, you left and fuck whatever plans you two were making. You're both sorcerers, for pete’s sake! Attack, kill your enemies, and don’t die! What's so hard about that? 

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami who was following behind and then came up in front of you – he tried to stop you from leaving, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I do apologize for my words. It was harsh and I didn't mean it. Just please, let's calmly talk about the plan. I just want you to be safe, Y/N.”You look at him defeated. He was right…so you both come back to the room again and discuss what needs to be done.

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami came to the rescue when you were struggling with exorcising a curse. He killed it for you. You wiped the blood splattered on your cheeks and said frustratingly, “I don’t need your help. I told you to stay out of my way.” He just nodded and that pissed you off more so you ran away from him which was not the plan. The plan was to stick together and kill curses as a team, especially the special and semi grade curses. But you were pissed off because it felt like you were so weak that you can’t kill off a semi grade curse, so fuck the plan and go find that you can put your anger to.

You were now in the alleyway and you felt a breeze near you and now it’s blowing your face. You immediately went into defensive mode and made sure you had your katana ready. Your power is creating a portal by cutting through anything or any person with your katana. You were ready to slice the air but the special grade curse spoke which you felt in your spine. You were taken aback by the special grade’s words, “Weakling.” Was what it said – it was soft but with wrath. It landed a blow in your arm and now all you can see is red. You moved your stance and stabbed it hard on its stomach – you portal it now to your dimension. You can move more freely now, you thought, but it laughed at you and said, “Not bad.” While healing its wounded stomach. This special grade is a huge one eyed monster with a green talon that has daggers – it wagged its tail but you cut through and sent the daggers in another portal but it was fast and now on your face and licked your cheek. It burned so bad that you wanted to wail but you were able to do a split and slashed its legs. You continued your slashing until it was screaming pain. It kept regenerating so you stood up fast and tried slitting its throat but before your katana could land a blow on it – it escaped your portal and now landed a strong punch in your stomach and now you are laying on the ground in the same alleyway with its talon about to stab you.

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami who was now looking for you worriedly. His whole being turned lifeless when he saw you laying out cold with a tall ugly curse hovering you. He immediately used his curse technique and struck the special grade in the heart with his cleaver. It turned to him and attacked him with its talon but Nanami caught its tail with his tie and crushed it. The special grade falls to the ground in pieces.

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami ran to your side and took you urgently to Shoko. All you remember was you were saying something to him and he was smiling faintly. 

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

Again, there will be part 2 :)

All I can say is Nanami is the greenest flag there ever is! 💚

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Prompt: Sukuna keeps getting tattoos because you keep kissing every inch of them.

Content: Mature, drabble.

div. plutism

He already had the dark lines running along his body when you met and they got a good amount of attention. Arms, legs, chest, back and face. And then one day he got a random tattoo after so long, a small thing over his chest that won him a peck every time he got off the shower.

He got a second tattoo after that because one of his friends saw that new one he got and asked him to accompany him to get one of his own. Already in the shop, Sukuna asked for a big piece on his arm that you traced every night in bed while waiting to fall asleep.

By the third one he started to notice the patterns.

If the tattoo was small it gained him butterfly kisses, and if it was bigger you took your time to trace every line. Kissing and kissing his skin. To get the line art, the details and the specs of color.

Then the third and the fourth and walking around the house without a shirt on were kisses garantied, and t-shirts stopped being a thing for him at home.

The neck tattoo was a great investment. Every time it caught your attention it gave him a solid thirty minutes of love and nibbles. You would climb onto his lap and trace the leaves and the roses and the skull with your lips and the tip of your tongue, and he would melt over the back of the couch or the pillow, keeping his head back and exposing his most vulnerable spot to you to bite and bruise it as you pleased.

At times he used his discovery to his advantage and with devious intent, like the quote that run from the middle of his ribs to his V line and down to his tight. It was a random line that you had mentioned in passing that you liked so he just put it there, and he shivered every time you kissed it letter by letter, rewriting every character with soft and warm kisses and pressing them with your teeth. No skips, no rush.

Yes, in the beggining he was trying to be hot about it and put more thought into what the pictures were, but he soon run out of ideas and even at some point it didn't even matter to him what the tattoo was. You mentioned you thought sharks were cool? Done. There is a type of flower that he noticed had caught your attention? Awesome. Some dumb lyrics that you kept repeating? Good enough for him. It saved him time and energy that way.

What was truly important? How would the lines flow over his body, where would your lips fall. Long lines dancing up and down, spiraling over him, thought-out for you to care for. Delicate, without rough edges so you would take your time.

A wink to one of your hobbies over his shoulder blade. A single feather of a bird you liked. A random drawing in your favorite color. A shrine because you had a date on a temple once. Of course he didn't tell you what they meant, and you couldn't tell because he was smart about it, only hinting at things in the images and waiting enough time for you to forget that you mentioned something before he got it, never picking something too obvious.

The picture didn't matter. Your breath over his skin, the sweetness of your lips, the way they locked your eyes all over him, were all the tattoos real purpose.

Ink, and ink, and ink, every tinted inch of skin was your conquering. A game that you didn't even knew you were playing, and where Sukuna was willing to give it all up.

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Word count: 2.7

Category: Angst, Smut

Warnings: smut, a bit of rough sex ig, reader is sad tm, cult leader geto, an awful lot of dog metaphors, veeeery slight masochism but not really explicit. Takes place eight years after Geto left but reader's age is not stated.

Summary: When Suguru left, a part of you went with. It's not a surprise, that eight years after, you still come crawling back to him.

***

When Suguru left, a part of you went with. The school years spent together passed by in a flash and then he was gone without saying goodbye. No words, no letter, not even a short message to your phone. The wallpaper was still set to the picture of the two of you. He wasn’t smiling in that one. When was the last time he did? The more you study the phone screen, the more your hands tremble. His skin looks pale, the bags under his eyes holding all the colors of the night sky. How could you not notice? How could you possibly be that stupid? How were the signs so glaringly obvious yet slipped past your radar?

You were too happy, your brain suggested. Lost in the bliss, living in the soft summer days, only noticing that you had nothing warm to wear when winter came along suddenly. Shoko had told you not to blame yourself, yet you noticed that she had started smoking way more often. You were often with her, when she allowed the nicotine to surround the air around you, letting the bright red cherry tip burn right to the filter. Those moments were quiet most of the time.

Satoru didn’t say anything to you, during that time. You often wondered if he was hurting more than you. If the guilt completely ate him completely instead of chipping away as it had on you. You wondered if he had any tears left to shed. Yours seemed never-ending.

You also wondered what your friends (if you could still call them that, after so many years of no contact) would think of you if they saw you like this. Hair matted with sweat and sticking to your forehead, skin clammy and flushed, eyes rolled to the back of your head and countless loads of cum decorating your pliant body.

Right now, Suguru had you on all fours, back arched harshly, his large, unforgiving hand aiding the pose with a harsh grip on your hair, the other resting on your hip with a bruising grip. His hips were unrelenting in their pursuit of his pleasure, almost punishing with how harsh they were. Your body bounced back and forth with each mean thrust, your hands fisting the silk sheets until the knuckles turned white.

You squirm forward a little and his strong body chases right after. His lean, toned body leans on yours, more weight landing on you, his soft hair forming a dark halo around you.

“Not trying to run from me, are you, darling?” His voice is dark and a little breathy.

A soft grunt slips past his glossy lips and you still, taking and taking and taking until there’s nothing but him. His clean, woody scent surrounding you, his silky hair tickling at the sensitive skin of your neck and his huge cock tearing away at your insides.

“N-no. Sorry.”

You’re surprised by the breathlessness of your own voice, sounding so far away. Geto rewards you with a content hum as he kisses the shell of your ear with befitting gentleness. The only sound besides your own deep breaths is the loud squelching of your awfully wet cunt.

It’s not like he hasn’t prepared you. He spent what seemed like hours between your legs, dark hair pulled into a bun because he didn’t like distractions while doing the thing he enjoyed most. He dangled your pleasure just in front of you, only allowing you to cum when you begged real pretty and tear tracks embedded themselves into the soft skin of your cheeks. After that, he had stretched you out with his fingers, cooing at you almost mockingly when three seemed to be too much. And they were, they really were with how long, thick and calloused they were and yet-

Nothing ever prepared you to take his cock, not even when you were dripping, messing up his expensive sheets. He was massive — long, and thick and slightly curved to the side, hitting all the right spots instantly yet never fully fitting inside.

“No? Seemed that way, doll.”

Another kiss, this time to your exposed neck, before his thrusts pick up speed. It’s nasty and loud, yet missing the usual sound of hips connecting that most often came along with sex. Those two last inches never did fit, much to his displeasure.

Suguru angles his hips in a way that hits that spot deep inside, the one that despite countless times of trying, no else was able to hit in the way he was. You keen loudly, burying your head into the bedsheets and sniffling loudly, hands clawing around in search of reprieve.

Suguru grants you that one relief, the hand that was knit tightly into your hair finally leaving and intertwining with yours, fingers squeezing tightly, as if he was the one afraid to let go. His thrusts are still mean. Now, that he had finally granted you the pleasure of feeling his cock against that one sensitive spot, he abused the newfound power over and over and over again.

“You close, love? Tell me how it feels.”

His voice is sweet and as smooth as honey. The word “love” feels like venom dripping from his perfect lips. Another mean thrust and you’re keening, thoughts jumbled in your head, saliva dripping down your chin as if it’s your brain leaking out.

“Feels, ngh- Feels soo- Suguru!”

He actually laughs, sound melodic and heavenly. He’s a god above you, a vision of utter perfection, and you’re a mortal, on your knees in his temple, begging for reprieve, for pleasure, for him.

“Use your words, dear. Can you do that for me?”

It’s completely condescending. The only thing that’s betraying how tight you’re squeezing him is the slight grunts he allows to slip past. He had nothing to hide from you, anyway. Who would you tell, when you were so afraid of admitting that you shared your bed with him?

“M-mhm, wanna be good. Feels, ah, feels good-“

His thrusts slow and you can’t find it in yourself to feel bad for actually whining at the loss of friction. He’s a henchman and you’re the victim, willingly walking to him and laying yourself under the shining silver of the axe. Nothing seems to matter anymore, save for your pleasure.

Your hips buck back, trying to get him to speed his thrusts back again, but Suguru is not the one to give in that easy. His hand still on your hip tightens, fingers curling in a way that’s sure to leave bruises, that’s sure to leave his mark.

“You can do better. You want to come, don’t you, darling? Yeah, you do… So do better for me. Talk all pretty, okay?”

And how can you refuse Suguru, when he asks like that?

“You’re s-so big and n-no one else can fuck me like tha-that. I love your cock, love to fe-feel it in me, love the way i-it hu-hurts and lo-love you, ah-!” words tumble past your lips as fast as running water, afraid to disappoint him, afraid for him to leave.

Finally, finally his hips pick up their speed, the hand that was just squeezing your hip now slithering under your body and finding that little bundle of nerves in an instant. He seems to have no trouble playing you like an instrument, his practiced fingers drawing tight, fast circles on your clit. You just do your duty, keeping your back arched, your hips thrusting back to meet his movements.

It doesn’t take long for your vision to completely black out, screams and moans and little ramblings leaving your spit-soaked lips. Suguru aids you through your orgasm, never ceasing his movements against your clit. He gifts you with a couple more shallow thrusts before he’s pulling out with a soft grunt. In a moment, you feel the warmth of his cum hitting your back and your knees finally give out, body splayed out on the bed.

Suguru rolls over in order not to crush you, his own breaths labored and loud. You spend a long moment just catching your breath, head turning to the side and drinking in his painfully pretty features. The arch of his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose, his tired, dark eyes and his mused hair.

“You confessing your love for me was not something I had expected tonight.” He answers with a chuckle, your name slipping past his lips unprompted. No matter how soft it is, it still sounds foreign.

“It was just a slip of a tongue.” You reply, still studying each movement of his body. He was still so coordinated and delicate in his maneuvers, as if the intense session before didn’t tire him out at all.

“Some phrase about a cat and it being out of the bag seems to come to my mind.” Suguru chuckled, before standing up and disappearing for a moment.

He comes back with a wet towel, wiping away at the mess between your legs and then carefully caressing your back, removing all evidence of what has happened before. He puts it away immediately, always the one to stick to neatness and tidiness.

“Why didn’t you just finish inside? It’s less messy and I’m on birth control.” You find yourself mumbling the words. Perhaps you just missed his warmth, craving it to be so deep inside you that even after you left, some part of him still lingered.

Suguru hums softly, pulling you into his strong arms. His skin is warm against yours. He’s still naked, his chest pressed up against your back. It feels right. Like that’s the way it should have always been.

“Admittedly, I am not that possessive, darling. You can fuck whoever you like, someone who fits your moral compass and all that. I don’t need to cum inside to prove that you’re mine.”

He’s always so nonchalant about this. Like he’s absolutely sure that you would always come crawling back, even if it resulted in bruised knees and absolute banishment of your dignity. It hurt that it wasn’t exactly wrong.

“It seems that no one fits my moral compass nowadays. Perhaps I am getting too picky.” You answered quietly, softly. The smell of sex was still heavy in the air.

Suguru brushes figures into the skin of your arms, making your body instantly relax in his strong arms. It shouldn’t feel so safe. Not when the blood of so many people stain every inch of his skin. You can’t find it in yourself to mind. He had never hurt you, at least, not physically. The emotional damage was something you preferred to think about over a nice bottle of wine, alone.

“Perhaps you are. Or maybe we are just two sides of the same coin. I cannot seem to find someone who’s presence satisfies me as much as yours, either.

His words never fail to make you blush. You’re not a school girl anymore, it shouldn’t affect you at all, let alone this much and yet, when it’s Suguru, nothing is off the table.

“We are not the same and never will be.” You find the strength within yourself to answer. The words are weak and uncertain.

“Oh, are we not?” He answers immediately, the movements of his nimble fingers ceasing for a moment before continuing their path down your arms. He’s soothing you, you realize. How stupid. As if you ever needed that. As if he actually know how much you did.

“What are you implying, Suguru?” You ask, and your head finds it’s way to rest on his chest. Suguru finally relaxes, as if it was him who craved it instead of you.

“I will never change my ideals and yet you still crawl back to me like an obedient little dog.” He lets the words linger in the silence of his bedroom for a moment, “You will never change yours and yet I welcome you back into my arms each time.”

“Comparing me to a dog now?” Is all you manage for an answer.

The words have no real bite behind them. A metaphor of a dog with no teeth comes to your mind briefly. You are a scared animal, cornered in somewhere, just waiting for a hand that will feed instead of hitting. Suguru embodies both.

“That’s not what you should be focusing on. And that wasn’t even my point.” He waves you off with a gentle flick of his wrist.

“Spit it out.”

“We were doomed from the day we first met. It was meant to be happen this way.” He begins, and you can’t begin to understand what he’s getting at. Suguru often got philosophical after sex, “I believe it was Emil M. Cioran, who said “If you are doomed to devour yourself, nothing can keep you from it: a trifle will impel you as much as a tragedy. Resign yourself to erosion at all times: your fate wills it so.”

“Are you saying that there was nothing that I could have done to prevent you from leaving? That you are devouring yourself?” the words taste bitter on your tongue.

“I’m saying exactly that. The guilt is ridden all across her features each time I see you. Not only because you feel bad about us sleeping together. You can’t let go of it even eight years after, you carry it with you like a deadly weight. It’s going to drag you down one day, don’t you know?” He asks so nonchalantly, like he’s not expecting an answer. You offer him one anyway.

“And the part about devouring yourself?”

“Exorcise. Consume. Repeat it until everything inside you aches. My fate was written down on the day my cursed technique developed.” He’s quiet as he tells you this. Honest, for the first time in a while.

“And for you, that is synonymous to devouring yourself? Your technique?”

“More or less so. The rest of devouring is me reaching for a goal that is impossible to reach. Icarus flying too close to the sun, Laika trying to reach the stars.” He’s silent for a long moment after that.

You don’t really know what to say, either. The need to ask about why he was still doing this if he knew what the outcome was, dies down on your tongue. Instead, you hold onto his hand still tracing shapes on your arm. He gives your fingers a squeeze. The atmosphere of his bedroom is heavy and dark, melancholy weighing down heavy on your bones.

“You’re bad at pillow talk, Suguru.”

He offers you a small laugh, sound melodic and airy.

“And you’re trying to evade the topic. There was nothing you could’ve done, okay? And I don’t have plans for returning.” Your throat burns. The harsh reality that you have been trying so hard to avoid comes crashing down around you, “It’s not that you’re not good enough for me to turn my back on all of this. The thing is, you’re pretty, and caring, and your laugh, and your touch are the only things that can soothe my tired body.”

“You’re pouring salt into the wound.” You answer, and your voice is hallowed. He either doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore it. Deep down, you know that it’s the latter.

“My goals just always come first.” He adds, as if that wasn’t obvious, as if it hasn’t been the thing that’s haunted you for years, borrowing it so deep inside your body, soul and heart that it’s become familiar.

“Your goals always come first.” You echo, “You’ll die a selfish man, Suguru.”

He rearranges you into a more comfortable position, laying you down onto his chest and enveloping you both in a soft, warm blanket. His breathing matches yours and you feel yourself teetering along the edge of unconsciousness.

Suguru presses a kiss to your hairline, chuckling softly, before closing his own dark eyes. Can you even hear him anymore? Ah, no matter. He can always tell you the next time you come back to him.

“Don’t I know it, dear. Don’t I know it.”

---

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Toji Fushiguro & Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 1] The Ideal Woman

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader x Satoru Gojo

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

*So excited to share with y'all, very Toji heavy first chapter but remember this is a love triangle

Toji has never been more miserable before. The man should be happy, he should be thrilled for his best friend, but he’s not. He’s never been the biggest fan of engagement parties, but this is just another level of discomfort. Spoiled brat Satoru Gojo always gets what he wants, and what irks Toji the most is that what Satoru gets is never something the average man can come close to achieve. 

Satoru has the perfect job, great looks, charisma, talent, money, and the one that pisses off Toji the most, the perfect woman. Satoru’s girlfriend– Well, now fiancée, is the woman of every man’s dreams. At least the woman of Toji’s dreams. 

Toji has never felt jealousy like this. Toji’s unlucky, he knows so, and he’s felt jealousy hundreds of times before, but never like this. He’s green with envy because he should be the one to hold your hand and parade you around as his fiancée, not Satoru. Satoru already has everything a man wishes for, couldn’t he have left you alone?

Satoru is just too greedy, he has to take everything for himself, and Toji slowly begins to resent him. Toji clenches his jaw, watching a very proud Satoru gloat about you and about the perfect proposal that he made last month. He makes sure to emphasize just how expensive it all was but without actually mentioning any prices.

“Toji.” You call out his name, breaking him from his thread of endless thoughts. He’s startled when he sees you, rightfully so. You sprung on him out of nowhere, not that he minds. You chuckle before asking, “Why are you here all by yourself?”

“Just needed a moment alone.” He answers, and you smile at him. He smiles back at you, trying to mask his unhappiness and frustration. He looks at you over again, looking as beautiful as ever tonight. He swears you can’t get more beautiful, but you prove him wrong each and every time. He’s mad that he can’t tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman that he’s ever seen; a simple ‘you look good’ or ‘that dress looks nice on you’ isn't cutting it, but it’s the most he can say without sounding weird.

“You know, I’m mad at you.” You proceed to tell him with a laugh, and he raises his brows. He knows you can’t be too serious since you’re laughing, so he chuckles as well.

“And why is that? What did I do this time?” He asks, and you hold up your left hand, one that is adorned by a beautiful diamond ring. Toji nearly rolls his eyes, and he knows immediately what you’re about to say. 

“Why didn’t you congratulate me on my engagement?” You both say in unison, however, he puts on a mocking high pitched voice, attempting to mimic you. He’s amused by the frown that comes into your face. You cross your arms, dramatically turning to leave him, but his hand goes to your arm. 

“I thought congratulating Satoru was enough.” He claims, but he knows that isn’t the right response because you roll your eyes. “Oh c’mon–”

“I thought we were friends.” You point out, and Toji chuckles. He hopes that you aren’t all that upset, you should know that he isn’t all that great with congratulating people– Especially about something that he isn’t all that excited about. “I thought of having you as a bridesmaids but it seems you don’t care about me all that much.”

“My bad. Congrats on your engagement.”  He says, and you scoff. Toji can drag this on for the rest of the night so you’ll stay by his side. He sees the eyes that are searching for you, waiting to congratulate you and talk about your future plans. But your back is to them, your attention fully on him.

“Congrats? If you were anyone else I’d say you’re mad about this.” You claim, and Toji nods in response. He’s being serious, he’s never been more serious in his life before but he knows that you won’t take him seriously.

“Totally.” And he sounds sarcastic. There’s no reason for you to doubt him, Satoru and him are like brothers. Granted, Toji is a much older brother. 

The conversation shifts, and you get carried away. You seem to forget it’s your own party, people are looking for you but you’re joking around with Toji, talking about the latest romcom you’ve watched. He’s never laughed so hard before, but he swears you bring something out of him.

“There’s a sequel coming out, we should watch it together.” You suggest, and he nods in response. He would be a fool to pass up on the opportunity to spend time with you. And he won’t lie and say that he hates the movie that you’re talking about, because he also watched it and he found himself entertained.

You’re so engrossed with him that you’re shocked when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Your hand goes over your heart, your heartbeat going what feels like a thousand miles a minute. You glance back at your fiancé, who has a smirk on his lips. 

“I was looking for you.” Satoru says, and Toji tries not to roll his eyes. He feels as if Satoru does it to show off. The bastard knows just how lucky he is, and Toji hates it.

“Sorry, babe.” You apologize, and Toji wants to chime in and tell you that you don’t have to apologize for that. Why should you? You were just talking to him, no harm in that. “But you were busy too. Too busy showing off, that you forgot about me!”

“I’m sorry, babe.” Satoru kisses your cheek, making Toji’s jaw clench. His chin rests on your shoulder before he finally acknowledges Toji, “How are you doing, man?”

“Bored.” Toji doesn’t really bother thinking of another response. Satoru is taking you away for sure, and Toji has nothing else to do there. “I’m leaving.”

“Aw, no! Stay a little longer.” You protest, and a subtle smile comes onto his lips. It’s nice to know that he’s wanted around by you. It’s tempting to stay a little longer, but he knows he can’t stay by your side. Satoru hums in agreement, of course he does, why wouldn’t he want his best friend around? Toji thinks about it, but you tell him something that makes his decision. “I want to set you up with my friend.”

“I–” Toji is a bit taken back by your words. Right… Why wouldn’t you want to set him up with a friend? He clears his throat before telling you, “I have to pick up Megumi. I’ll see you two soon, congratulations.”

Before you can argue with him more, he brushes past you and makes his way out of the house. You’re left to gather your thoughts before looking back at your fiancé. It’s almost as if he can read your thoughts, and he laughs. “You know he isn’t a big people person.”

“He’s acting weird.” You claim, but you won’t tell him more. You grab his hand, and lead Satoru elsewhere, going to talk to other people that are dying for your attention. After all, you are the ones being celebrated tonight.

“My mom wants to talk to you.” Satoru brings up, and you let out a sigh. You adore the woman, but ever since the topic of marriage came up, she’s been trying to plan her ideal wedding and pushing the ideas on you. Lately that’s all she can talk about, so it’s fair to say you aren’t in a talkative mood. 

“How about…” You begin, and Satoru furrows his brows. It’s clear that you’re avoiding his mother, and he knows why. But how rude would it be to just run away like that? Especially since you’re hosting the engagement party in her home.

“C’mon, we’ll keep it brief.” He takes the lead, dragging you to where he last saw his mother. She isn’t there though, and you take it as your gift from the universe. You’re fighting back a smile as you look at him.

“Where is she?” You ask him, and Satoru briefly searches for his mom, but doesn’t care enough to walk around and ask where she is. He shrugs and a smirk comes to your lips before you bring your lips up to his ear, “Do you want to sneak away?”

“You’ve read my mind.” Satoru doesn’t have another reason to stay, and being around so many people has him overwhelmed. Sneaking away is the best idea that you’ve had so far tonight. You’re giggling like children while you run out of the house and into the empty quiet backyard.

“Why did you invite so many people?” You ask Satoru as you run to the sofa that’s on the patio. You sit down next to each other, although Satoru would argue that you’re almost sitting on him with how close you are– Not that he minds. You’ve done worse.

“What do you mean? They’re all people that you want at the wedding, if anything blame yourself.” He points out, causing you to glare at him. He realizes his mistake, and hopes that a peck on the lips will make you forget. “But you’re right, there’s too many people here.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, your hand going to his chest. Your eyes glimmer as you stare at the diamond that you’ve been dying to get for the past few years. It feels surreal that you’re one step closer to your goal. 

“It fit perfectly.” Satoru comments, grabbing your hand and staring at the ring. He chuckles before confessing, “I was worried it wouldn’t fit.”

“Good thing that you know me better than anyone.” You respond, as Satoru lets go of your hand. Your hand goes back to your side, as his arm wraps around you.

“You know, no matter how much I get to know you, I still feel like I don’t.” He shares, making you perk up your brows. 

“Well, I don’t think there’s anyone here that knows me better.” You answer, and Satoru bites down his lip. He’s not going to argue with you even when he feels otherwise. You’ve spent the past five years with each other, and Satoru’s mind goes blank when he’s asked about your favorite color. 

You look up at him, watching how he stares off into the distance. You kiss him, causing a smile to come to his lips. His lips meet yours again, but instead of pulling away quickly, they remain on yours. He kisses you multiple times, he does it until you put your fingers over his lips to stop him. You know it’s a matter of a couple more kisses before Satoru loses control.

“Do you think they’re looking for us?” You ask him, and he looks back at the house. They most definitely are. But it doesn’t matter. He’s out here with you, and that’s all he wants. 

You’re all he needs.

“We should go back in soon.” Satoru says, and you hum in response. However, you don’t make a single move.

“Give me a minute. I like it better here with you and only you.”

“You’re back!” You exclaim when your eyes land on Toji again. Everyone is leaving, but Toji makes a sudden reappearance back in the party. His eyes light up when he knows that you cheer up as you see him. 

“Your boyfriend called me to come back. It was, and I quote, an emergency.” Toji does air quotes with his fingers as he walks over to you. You tilt your head to the side, curious as to why Satoru called him back here.

Realization sets in, a smile coming to your face, which confuses Toji even more. You grab his hand, leading him to where Satoru is. You correct him on the way there, “Satoru is now my fiancé. Get it right, Toji.”

“My bad.” He can’t help but roll his eyes since you’re not looking at him. Right, your fiancé. That bastard sure is lucky. You can call him out a million times for it, but he’ll still refer to Satoru as your boyfriend. 

“There he is!” Satoru points out, stopping his conversation with one of his friends to redirect his attention to the star of the night. That’s what Toji feels like at least, especially after getting a message just as he was getting home. “Sorry about texting you to come back again, I just had something to ask and it couldn’t be over text.”

“What is it?” Toji sounds irritated, which he is. What’s so important that he had to drop Megumi off with the neighbor? Toji would rather be anywhere but here. He’s never really cared about the fact that you’re together, even when he has clear feelings for you. Toji has always felt that you and him act more like a couple than you and Satoru– but tonight, he’s reminded that you’re not together. 

You’re engaged to Satoru. 

“I had a question for you… And I didn’t want it to be over text.” Satoru says, and Toji cocks his brow. How important can this question really be when Satoru completely forgot to bring it up earlier. Toji doesn’t care to ask what it is, he waits for Satoru to ask the important question. Satoru has a cocky expression on his face, at least that’s how Toji views it. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

“You’re the one that has a question, I’m listening.” Toji barely hides his annoyance, but Satoru thinks it’s because Toji was asked to come back, which is only part of it. Toji crosses his arms, waiting patiently for Satoru to speak.

“I was talking with Suguru back and forth about it. In the end, we both agreed that you were the perfect best man.” Satoru shares, and it takes Toji back. Satoru might be Toji’s best friend, but Suguru is Satoru’s best friend. He imagined he would be asked to be a groomsman, but not the best man. It makes Toji furrow his brows, and ask, 

“The perfect best man? Why?” Which isn’t the answer nor reaction that Satoru was expecting. Satoru doesn’t know what he was expecting, truthfully. Toji is a very emotionless person, he obviously isn’t going to weep in joy at the proposal, but Satoru expects some sort of reaction that is not this.

“Huh?” Satoru can’t help but reply. You watch the interaction, wondering the same thing as Satoru. Satoru’s friend leaves, not wanting to be caught up in the middle of anything. He trusts Satoru won’t do anything rash, but not Toji. No one in the place really trusts Toji for whatever reason.

“You have other options, and I’m not even your closest friend.” Toji answers, and Satoru laughs. Toji isn’t wrong. Satoru just finds it amusing that Toji doesn’t immediately figure out why he’s asking though.

“Don’t you remember, Toji?” You tilt your head to the side as you look at the man… Well, he obviously doesn’t. Toji looks puzzled, should he know? You look at your fiancé and frantically shake your head, doing a cutthroat gesture at him. Satoru has a mischievous smirk on his face, and you watch him lick his lips. He’s going to let it slip.

“Well, the night that we met, you were the one that introduced us because–” Satoru begins, and you feel your face warm up. You can’t let Satoru finish the statement because you swear you’ll die of embarrassment. Toji clearly doesn’t remember, and he doesn’t need a reminder.

“Don’t you dare!” You cut him off, but it’s too late because a lightbulb turns on above Toji’s head and he remembers the details. He bites his tongue, and mentally curses himself out because he completely forgot that– He probably forgot about it because he regrets that decision so much.

“I remember.” Toji ends up saying which makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. Toji sheepishly smiles before saying, “I guess, I have no other option now.”

“You don’t.” Satoru takes it as a joke, at least that’s what it seems when he lets out a laugh. 

“Okay, now hug!” You tell them as if they were dolls, and both men roll their eyes. It’s not the first time you say this, in fact, you tend to do it a lot. But they always listen, and they lean in for an awkward hug.

“I swear she always wants to see us touching.” Satoru murmurs as he pats Toji’s back.

“Just make her happy, man. Prepare for marriage.” Toji responds, patting Satoru’s back as well. They let go and you’re almost jumping in excitement. Toji directs his attention towards you and asks, “Now why are you so happy?”

“I can set you up with the maid of honor! Oh you two would make the perfect couple.” You exclaim, grabbing his hand and dragging him away. It’s what you’ve been doing all night. 

“Oh c’mon, I don’t want to.” He says, but he still moves his feet. “I don’t trust your judgment when it comes to setting me up with someone.”

“I know that you two will get along.” You claim as you lead him to your friend. She must be somewhere, but you can’t spot her. You bicker back and forth as you keep dragging him along. You finally come to a stop after five minutes, your hand still holding on to his wrist. “I guess she left.”

“Good.” Toji answers, getting your gentle hand off his arm. He doesn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. The place slowly becomes empty, and the few people there are just staring at the two of you. He didn’t care earlier but now it’s easier to spot you. Toji clears his throat, “Go back to Gojo.”

“I’m mad at him.” You respond, and he wonders why you say it. 

“What did he do now?” Toji questions, saying so in a very amusing tone.

“He reminded you how we met, it’s so embarrassing to think about now.” You reply and Toji bites his tongue. You aren’t wrong, he’s thinking of how wrong he was.

“Without me, you wouldn’t have met the love of your life.” He comments, and he can’t believe the words are leaving his lips. He just doesn’t want you to feel self conscious about it. 

“I guess you aren’t wrong.” You say, grabbing his arm again so you can drag him back to Satoru. He’s the one that you can’t find this time around though, and you look everywhere in the house but he isn’t there. You end up in the backyard again, and even though he isn’t there, you stay outside.

“Where the fuck did he go? Did he leave without me?” You ask as you take a seat on the same sofa from earlier. Toji chuckles, walking behind you to take a seat near you.

“He wouldn’t. He’s probably in the bathroom.” Toji replies, before you sit in silence. He’s watching you as you’re looking up at the night sky, and Toji wants to look in the same direction, but he finds you more interesting to look at. Satoru really is so fucking lucky. 

He thinks of what to say. Conversation flowed so easily earlier, but right now his mind is filled with regret. He thinks of what to ask before looking up at the sky as well. It really isn’t all that interesting, he doesn’t know why you keep staring at it.

He points up at a celestial body in the sky, unsure of what it is, “Is that a planet or a star?”

“Um…” You’re looking, trying to see what he points at. You have to scoot closer to get his perspective. Your head is hovering over his shoulder until you finally see what he looks at. “I think a planet, I’m not sure.”

“What’s the difference between them?” Toji asks, and you look up at him. You’re so close, and you don’t seem to notice; anyone that could walk by would get the wrong idea.

“Like… What’s the difference between planets and stars in general? Or from our perspective?” You respond, and he gives you an unamused look.

“Do you think I’m a dumbass?” He can’t help but answer, and you burst into laughter. Your laugh is infectious, making him chuckle as well. A sudden sadness comes over him, realizing that he’ll never get the chance to have you by his side– Not in the way he wants at least. But it’s okay, he’s happy watching you from afar.

“I’m sorry.” You wipe away a tear that escapes your eye. When the laughter subsides, you end up saying, “Actually I don’t know. ‘Toru is the one that likes astronomy.”

“Then why did you look?” He ends up saying, and you shrug.

“Just wanted to see if I could figure it out on my own.” You say. You realize how close you are to him, making you move away. Your face gets warm again as a question pops into your mind. It’s extremely inappropriate to ask, so you won’t let it slip.

You’re zoning out, staring off into the distance, which is easy for Toji to notice since his eyes are on you. He asks, “Is everything okay? You seem thoughtful.”

“If you weren’t married at the time, would you have still rejected me?” The words slip out of your mouth, and they make Toji’s eyes widen. He didn’t expect that question from you. “It’s nothing like that! I’m just curious because I do get kind of awkward when I remember it.”

“I mean, does it matter now?” Is the best answer Toji can come up with because he won’t risk the friendship he has with Satoru by answering truthfully, but he doesn’t want to lie to you either. Toji adjusts his posture before saying, “Think about it this way. If I hadn’t rejected you, you wouldn’t have ended up with Satoru. Instead, we would’ve had a messy affair, our relationship would be a fucking mess, you would’ve been stepmom to a stinky kid, and we probably would be unhappy.”

“You have to stop calling Megumi stinky! He’s so cute.” You’re quick to defend the child, and Toji laughs. “You’re right. Sorry for asking, it just hurts my ego.”

Toji doesn’t want to keep talking about it in case he says something he’ll regret. He waits a moment before mentioning, “We flushed his fish down the toilet yesterday.”

“Oh you’re awful, why are you smiling about it?” You call him out, not wanting to laugh as well. “Isn’t this the second time this happens?”

“My bad, I’ll get better at reading labels and not feeding the fish powder cleaner.” Is his way to apologize, but he shouldn’t say it to you, but instead to Megumi. It’s not like he knows anyway. No harm, no foul.

“Why did you put those two together anyway?” You ask as you stand up, heading back inside. Toji does the same, not wanting to be left alone.

“My place is a mess.” Toji  answers, which isn’t shocking.

“Tell me about it.” You respond, and Toji is about to make a snarky remark back, but you spot Satoru immediately when you’re back inside, and that’s where your direction goes. You yell out his name, and run to him with open arms. 

There’s almost a pout on Toji’s face when you hug and kiss Satoru ever so lovingly. He shouldn’t feel upset, so he tries not to. He looks away, reminding himself that you’re engaged to his very own best friend.

In the end, he’s wishing the best for the two of you, hoping that nothing bad happens during your engagement. He wouldn’t want you two to split, as selfish as he is.

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