#A man in three? Or a man in four... :]c

[disruptivevoib]

Not really a "other peoples designs" RQ but could you draw Eleutheromania/phobia Soul or Whole.. just as a treat

You were once the shell. Now you're something else- and the mask that was yours is loathed as it loathes you...

Or something like that.

I feel this drawing lacks context in terms of the original fic, but since certain things are more explored... this is very aughk, to me. Have them both :]

[vaguely-concerned]

I've been trying to figure out a dynamic between neve and rye that I find more compelling, because right now there's not much of anything there for me to sink my little teeth into. but I think I've landed on something delicious with the idea that especially after minrathous gets fucked, rye looks at neve and sees myrna -- someone he feels he keeps letting down horribly no matter how hard he tries not to and can't quite achieve the approval of/connection with that he wishes so it's better to just pull away completely and disengage rather than stay in that unshifting shame. neve is (very understandably) measured and distant with him after what happened, and he's flashing back to his student days of myrna gazing at the perpetually hungover heartbroken heap of a person of him on the other side of her desk every time he missed the deadline of a paper or project like '...can we at least both agree that this is. a bit disappointing. especially considering your potential.' (and him all smudged black eyeshadow and numb ruefulness being like 'sure that's a very kind way to put it myrna thank you'.)

aside from the 'if I let him get too deeply into this he'll go the way of brom and it'll be all my fault (again)' element, neve thinks rye is dismissing her and her city/being a bit callous in the same way he was after varric's death (listen. how fucking wild must rook's reaction to losing a beloved mentor seem to the rest of the crew who aren't seeing the blood magic paper doll ghost varric the whole time, especially those who got to see them interact. you WOULD think 'there's something wrong with this guy. putting the job first is one thing just not seeming to react at all is another this is fucking freaky', wouldn't you, especially after seeing the warmth in that dynamic in action beforehand.) perfect storm of two people who grit their teeth and turn inwards in pain deciding that not talking about it is their best bet (NEWSFLASH: IT ISN'T) lmao

(rye spent his last year of watcher training on a mostly joyless bender and then got it together enough to finish the eternal orb project last moment in a fevered near-sleepless week instead of the half a year that was intended. emmrich is both astounded and distressed to hear this. "a week? but -- but that is an astounding accomplishment rook!! and also why in the maker's good light would you ever do that to yourself?" ("well you see there was no one to stop me from doing it like that but me. and under those conditions these things tend to happen".) rye was working through/looking up stuff around transitioning and doing every kind of OTHER high level watcher research through that whole time, but ultimately he's an excellent watcher and a terrible student, at least under traditional methods. adhd from here to the fucking moon. touched by something akin to divine inspiration in moments of high tension that pulls all the threads into one coherent unbreakable cord, a bit of a frayed mess in most other settings. in our world he'd be dropping out of a masters program at the very last hurdle in this moment maker bless and protect him)

[spearxwind]

Hiya, oc question here after seeing the changes you made to yer Dragon ocs n setting! (Super cool btw!)

Is Reina gonna be in it?

Ahh thank you I'm glad you're enjoying it!!

Also yeah Reina will be on it! I think she's probably going to be on the same plane Gala is on and help her with piloting/radaring stuff in the sky, since an AWACS (radar plane) is probably too much for just one person to run (maybe?? I havent actually looked into AWACS piloting yet </3) but ye.

With all my new writing i also thought I might make her a dragon instead though bc i rly like her dragon design (which i never got to show off) but i havent been able to find time to give her a proper dev like she deserves yet. But ye she's def around I wanna have ALL of my dragon ocs in this universe :3 so if there's anyone you miss theyre more than likely here

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC De-Aged Triplets and Their Tired Single Sister

Jason has seen the four of them a couple of times in Crime Alley now. They looked like a family, what with similar facial features- err, actually, the kids looked like carbon copies of each other, but their mom/sister/aunt/cousin looked similar enough to be related to them by blood.

Normally, Jason didn't care for each and every family that moved into Crime Alley. Sure, he cared about all of them as a whole, but there were a lot of people, and he couldn't possibly get elbow deep in every life story he came across. So all he knew about them were three things: a) they were on the run from someone or something, b) they trusted each other and no one else, and c) apparently, they have made it their life goal to never make any kind of sense.

The list of shit they have gotten into included but was not limited to:

• one of the kids biting a gun. Not the hand of the attacker who was holding it, no, the actual gun. And he bit a piece of it clean off, which earned him - or her, actually, Jason knew one of the triplets was a girl but he couldn't tell them apart - a lecture from their... mom? sister? parental figure. The lecture was about how chewing metal does not help with iron deficiency.

• getting kidnapped and creeping out their kidnapper to the point of him returning the kids back home. A few witnesses said one of the kids was actually driving, sitting on the kidnappers lap behind the steering wheel and cheerfully commanding the man to speed up or brake. Their mom actually apologized to the kidnapper for the incident and offered him homemade cookies for his troubles. He ran away without them.

• driving a lady at the laundromat insane by repeatedly walking inside and climbing into one of the washing machines. They never got out of it, just one kid walking into the laundromat, climbing into washing machine, then another kid, looking exactly like the previous one, walking inside, climbing into the same washing machine, then another kid walking into the laundromat- well, you get the idea. The lady claimed she's seen at least five kids do that in a row, but when she looked into that washing machine, there was no one inside.

• casually falling out of windows. Or, better, walking out of them like they were doors, at any given opportunity. The witness - an old man who was helping their mom with groceries - said the mom did not care in the slightest, and when he asked her about it, obviously concerned, she just said, tired and exasperated, 'they like the feeling of free fall, don't worry, they'll come back in a minute'. Sure enough, they did, not a scratch on them. The family lived on the sixth floor.

• eating insane amounts of food. Jason personally witnesses their mom give them her wallet, telling the kids, 'eat until you're full', and promptly passing out on the table, her head on her arms. The kids then proceeded to eat four whole pizzas, three burgers each, then seven brownies and at least five cups of soda. What was interesting about it was not only the amount of food they ate but the way they never left their mom unattended, one of the kids always staying beside her sleeping figure as the other two went to order.

And now, all four of them were standing in front of him. Not Jason Todd him, but Red Hood him. And he was... confused.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, can you watch them for a few hours? Three, maybe four," the mom, Jazz as she introduced herself, was looking at him like it was he who was speaking nonsense, not her. Because asking a crime lord to watch three kids in the middle of the night is not something a sane person would do.

"Why?" He asks, bewildered, because what the fuck else is he supposed to say?

"I need to kill a man, and if they come with me, it will take three times longer," Jazz tells him. Is she saying the kids slow her down or what? Jason can admit he's never been this confused in his entire life.

"You could ask me to kill a man, while you stay with them, no?" He tries to reason, but the girl waves him off:

"No, that will take even longer. Besides, no offense, but you kill people to simply end their life, and I need that man to fucking stop existing forever."

What's the difference he almost wants to ask. But instead of that, he just sighs.

"Why me? I'm sure you could find a babysitter-"

"No babysitter will handle them. The last one told me they have been running laps on the ceiling, which is, actually, not that big of a deal. They are kids. Kids like running around," she huffs, and Jason suspects she is missing the point here, but okay. He gets why babysitters are not an option.

"You do understand what they can witness if they stay here?" He asks, as the last attempt to reason with the girl, but she just nods and leans down, making all the kids turn to her.

"Okay, you menaces, tell me what not to do while you're staying with Mr. Red Hood."

"No eating people," one kid starts.

"No driving people insane," the other one continues.

"No, um, stealing eyeballs," the third one finishes, and what the fuck are those ground rules? Is this girl a mother to eldrith horrors? That would explain some shit.

Jazz turns to him, "See? They're all good."

In what world is that good? Jason debates if he should start running now or when she leaves.

"Do they have names?" He asks instead. The girl nods:

"Danny." His surprise must be evident even through the mask because she sighs and points to each kid, "Diane, Daniel, Dante. Dani, Danny, and Dan. Actually, you know what, let's make this easier," she rummages through her bag and gets a marker out before gesturing to the kids, "Come here."

As they do, she proceeds to draw numbers 1, 2, and 3 on their foreheads. Then she nods to Hood and puts the marker away.

"Okay, that's better. Behave, you monsters, I'll be back soon!"

After she leaves, Jason looks down at the kids. They also look at him, eerie and unblinking.

Finally, one of them - number 2, Dani, if he is not mistaken - asks:

"Do you want teeth? We have a lot."

"She doesn't mean her teeth," number 1 clarifies, "She means other teeth."

...This is going to be some very long three hours.

[madamechrissy]

Cursed Promises

Pairings: Sukuna x Fem reader

CW: This chap, fingering, sucking both Sukuna's monster c*cks, Sukuna calls you little bunny lmao, soft Sukuna in places, he's falling fast tbh, reader is a lil innocent thing, stomach tongue says HELLO, all his tongues say hi, lil bit of degradation, true form Sukuna

Summary: You have been promised to Ryomen Sukuna, King of curses, for as long as you've been alive, ostracized from your village, 'special'. Now you are to marry him, sight unseen. People everywhere fear him, but will you find yourself intrigued by him. Just who is the King of Curses to his new wife? Arranged marriage au

A/N: This is ALL fluff and SMUT lol, it's just our king falling for y/n <3 Gonna be like four parts to this, so a short fic! Monsterfking and fluff lol- WC this chap-5.8k

Comments/ reblogs appreciated ❤️

<<<part one part three>>>

Part Two

“Good day, my Queen.” You’re greeted by Uraume, Sukuna’s right hand, they are so ethereally lovely, you think, their white hair and pale silky skin, along with their honey brown eyes were something to behold. They’re donned in white robes, hands hiding in their long sleeves, bowing just so.

“Good morning, Uraume.” You say softly, you are dressed now in another set of purple and gold robes, it seems to be Sukuna’s favorite coloring, if he chooses your wardrobe, nearly all of it was reds, purples and golds. “Um… where is the King?”

“You wish to know where he is?” They ask curiously, tilting their head. You nod then, feeling your cheeks heat up, remembering last night with him, he’d been on your mind all morning now.

“I’m afraid I’m quite lost in this castle, and I also fear to disturb him if I do find him.” Uraume nods now.

“The king sent for you, actually, it is why I came here. Come along now, my Queen.”

You eagerly follow, and you think the serious Uraume gives a little turn of their lips, but your mind must be playing tricks. You met them before King Sukuna, they were part of the group that led you on the long trek from home, a calming presence yet so powerful with their energy.

What exactly was your power, your energy? Your clan had made sure you never explored such things, no one has taught you anything about it, but it must be special if you’re destined to bear Sukuna’s heir. You still have much to learn, you fear, you are following their swishing white robes as you descend through the massive halls. You pause when you hear a slam against the door.

“What is that?” You ask, frightened, and Uraume just sighs.

“Foolish fucking mortal. Aaha!” You hear booming laughter now, when you enter Sukuna’s throne room, he’s grinning like crazy as a man is picking himself up, holding his stomach.

“My king…”

“Any last words? Should I give you any?” He’s chuckling with an insanely huge grin now, red eyes landing on you, raising a dark, arrogant brow. “Ah, it’s my beautiful bride. Come on now, have a seat.”

You’re looking at the room filled with people, guards and lords and commoners alike, all bowing down to you now. You start to walk up to his throne, the dark black throne filled with what appears to be cow skulls. You gulp nervously at it, taking over so much, Sukuna takes over so much, and he’s just perched on it with a smirk, patting his thigh again.

“Come on, little bunny.” You glare now, and he chuckles in delight, as you stomp on over, gasping as he pulls you to his lap, one of his four hands on your thigh, the other brushing your hair back to reveal your bare shoulders. “Uraume, you did superb with these gowns.”

“I’m pleased you enjoy, my King.” Uraume now stands with the council, as Sukuna’s long dark nails press into the delicate silk of your gown, his hands are so huge he takes you over entirely, you’re so overwhelmed, but also…

You feel him pressing between your thighs, against your slick heat, and he leans close, lips against your ear. “Soaking wet in front of everyone? Slutty bunny.”

“Oh you-” You go to stand now, sure everyone can see your embarrassment, your flushed cheeks.

“Ah ah, I’m your husband, you’ll sit here on my throne with me, wife.” He sets you back down now, hands firmly holding you in place, against the strong, muscular thigh that is making you throb.

You remember last night vividly even moreso now, being pressed like this, he rests his stubborn chin on one of his tattooed hands now, bored expression on his face. “And you, what is it you wish to plead for?”

A nervous man comes up to the throne, trembling before the two of you, “M-my King, my wife, she’s been taken by the demons of the East, please, I beg for your help!”

“We’re too busy, mortal, go bother someone else with your woes, I’m busy with more important things.” He says, his hand now reaching up to grab your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse point, and you realize he’s playing with your body’s reaction to his touch.

“My king… we should help.” You murmur, he leans forward, two of his eyes glinting angrily at you now.

“The bunny speaks?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, earning a raised brow. “Yes, the bunny speaks. Why am I here if not-”

“Insolent brat.” Sukuna sighs, cutting you off. “Not here.”

You nod then, realizing your folly, his hand is squeezing your hips so tightly, but it only makes you more intrigued, the duality of him. “I’ll consider it.”

“Oh thank you, thank-ah!” Sukuna has thrown him into a wall now, waving a hand and rolling all four of those eyes.

“Enough, out.” The man stumbles backwards, and Sukuna and you listen to the next few people, he seems to enjoy hurting them, finding great amusement, you wonder at his sadistic nature and big grin at it.

Suddenly a young girl comes and he does not treat her as such, he listens a bit more attentively now. He orders for help for her village, surprising you somewhat, but Sukuna did indeed protect those that had agreements with him, like your village for example. But the girl you notice he doesn’t fling for amusement, making you contemplate him a bit.

“What are you looking at, brat?” He says now, as you study him carefully, tilting your head.

“You’re rather sweet sometimes.” You tease, earning his anger.

“Sweet!?” He demands, and you suppress a giggle. “And you’re laughing at me? And here I am, being benevolent.”

“I apologize, my King, I don’t know what’s come over me.” He glares now, setting his jaw, and then suddenly an insane amount of energy pools right in one of his hands, he’s holding it up, a bright ball of dark purple and red, so intense the entire room stands still now. “My king…”

“Should I show you who I really am, brat? Since you find me amusing.” You shake your head then, feeling your body start to tremble, but not in fear of him, for fear of everyone in the room. “No? How about him first.”

“Stop!” You snatch his wrist then, to the gasps of everyone in the room, and the shocked look of the King himself, as you nullify his energy to nothing, little puffs of color is all that’s left. “I… I…” You’re gasping, opening your mouth and closing it over and over again, as the room is so silent you could hear the smallest pin drop.

Sukuna scowls at you now, and you know you’re in for it, whatever that was… what was that!?

“Uraume, see them all out. Now.” He orders, and they quickly obey, soon you’re left in a giant empty throne room with a furious king, their footsteps echoing through the halls, the giant doors slamming shut, and your heart races faster than ever before, alone with him.

You can feel his anger, his power, but there’s something else now, something new. His eyes are on you, the room spinning with his energy as he releases it, you can see it like a tornado of purple and red circling around him, but it’s not coming towards you, earning his anger as he stands, looming so big over you. You stand up, trembling but not backing down.

“What on Earth… what the fuck… you’re…”

You smile then. “Does this mean I’m more powerful-ah!”

“It means you’re an annoying little brat.” He says, grabbing you by your hair with one hand, another grabbing your ass, the energy dissipated.

“Why are you like this?” You ask, and he laughs, a low, deep, terrifying sound really, but it doesn’t scare you.

“Like what, bunny?” 

“So powerful, yet so cruel. You could help so many but you choose to just watch and enjoy their suffering instead!”

“It’s the way of the world, my world.”

You step forward, his hand still firm in your hair, but the pain is noticeable, the pull of him drawing you closer. “So you enjoy this cruelty.”

“You mean to understand me? You just met me, bride.”

You slide your hands up his bare chest then, so much of the broad, muscular chest on display, the black lines running down it. “Will you let me actually get to know you?” You ask softly, he sighs then, something softening for a moment, before he’s back to a tense stance.

“I’ve never met anyone who could do that to me before. You’re a puzzle I want to solve, and I will solve you, one way or another.” He stands now, his robes sliding down his shoulders, his muscular chest bare, then you see him, naked, his two cocks already standing at attention, you gulp at them. He’s chuckling now.

“You think this scares me?” You ask, trying to keep your voice from shaking, his cocks are so thick, so long, veins wrapping them. You’ve never seen anything like it before, but you’re not scared, you’re more intrigued than anything. “I can handle you, King of Curses.”

“Oh really, brave little bunny?” He steps forward, the energy surrounding you like a cloak, yet you’re untouched, in fact… you enjoy it.

“You cannot hurt me. And you do not want to, do you?” You ask softly, his brows lower over narrowed eyes, as he steps closer, his hard cocks touching you through your robes now.

“Tch, you really think you’re a match for my power? You’ve barely seen any of it, any of me.”

“So show me then.” Your hand drifts down his rippled body, blushing as you remember the pleasure he brought.

“You dare challenge me, brat?” He whispers, and you just nod, and then Sukuna slams his lips against yours, kissing you, hard and brutal, and you kiss back just as fiercely. For your second real kiss with him, you catch on quickly, because you are craving him, more and more every moment.

His hands are everywhere, ripping your gown off, revealing your naked body to the room, his cocks pressing against your stomach when he pulls you back against him, hot and heavy. You moan into his mouth, feeling yourself getting wetter as his other hands grip your bare ass, squeezing and pressing you against him now, you’re crying out, head falling back.

“Here?” You whisper, looking around, and he grins.

“You’ll service me here, like a good girl.” And then he’s dropping you down onto his throne, his hands on your shoulders, pushing you down to sit, and his cocks are directly in front of your face. “All that talk, time to shut your bratty mouth, hmm?”

You look at him defiantly, hand grabbing the top cock, stroking up and down tentatively, he moans, and you relish in it, leaning forward, licking the sticky white substance at the tip of each cock, pooling in the slits. He wraps his hands in your hair, pulling hard, making you even wetter, his other two hands bracing on either side of the cold, hard throne, tummy clenching in desire.

“Which one will you service first?” He says with a wicked smirk, and you lean down and take one of his massive cocks into your mouth, sucking and licking like you’ve never done before, your hand reaching down to stroke the other one, feeling the heat, feeling him so hard.

Sukuna groans, his hand in your hair, guiding you as you suck and kiss and lick, his energy swirling around you like a storm, but instead of being afraid, it’s like it’s feeding you, filling you up, urging you on, as you now start to suck his other cock, looking up at him the entire time. He’s surprisingly gentle when it comes to his thrusts, not pushing too far, letting you sink your mouth on him.

You’re so wet and aching you whine now, vibrating around his cock, and he sucks in a breath, brushing your hair back. “Does my needy bunny need her cunt played with?”

“Please, my King.”

He scoffs, but his hips stutter, his hand grabbing your hair as you lap your tongue on him. “My king? I have a name.”

“S-Sukuna?”

“I have a name.” He says again, and you pull back from sucking, one of his hands grips your throat, squeezing now. “I could break you, bunny, like you’re nothing but a little doll. Use you for my pleasure.”

You’re shaking with need, somehow every damn thing he says and does just makes you want him more, this insane need that’s clawing through you, made worse when you taste more of his salty liquid dripping from his tips. “You could break me, do you want to, my King?”

“Sukuna. You are my wife, you may.” His voice is so soft, even as a tattooed hand is choking your throat.

“Are you sure?” You ask quietly.

“You question your husband, your King?” He demands, and you enjoy his name on your lips far too much.

“Sukuna.” He moans now, taking your hand and putting it between your thighs, you squeak, pulling it off, earning his laughter. “I cannot do that!”

“You can, and you will.”

You gasp at his audacity. “You have four hands!”

“Mmm, I do, but I want to see you do it. Come on, don't be shy, bunny, feel how wet you are sucking my cocks.” You touch yourself as one of his hands is urging your finger on, pressing it against your neglected clit, in little circles that feel far too good, his nails delicately pressing into your scalp as he shoves a cock back inside your mouth, you’re drooling all over his length, onto his other cock now.

He’s feeling your slick as he guides you, only serving to make his thrusts more insistent, there’s a hand guiding your clit, a hand on your breast, the two pulling your hair, taking you over entirely now your fingers are weak, slipping. He takes your limp fingers now, bending down to suck your juices off them. You’re gasping as he goes deeper, as you take more.

“Pathetic, can't you even touch yourself?” He taunts, you glare again, yanking your right hand back, sinking a finger into your slick heat, moaning at the stretch of it, and he falters then, staring at you, lust dilating his eyes, droopy as his mouth is wide open. “So needy you’ll finger yourself?”

“You talk overmuch.” He glares, shoving his cock further down your throat now, grunting as he fucks your throat, making your throb around your own fingertip, urging him on.

“Insolent girl.” He drags your mouth down to his other cock, before shoving both tips in your mouth, tears pour down your eyes, jaw locked open. “What can’t handle them both? All talk?”

You glare up at him under your lashes again, sucking harder, then you watch him, his head falling back, as your hand leaves your entrance, instead working both his cocks. He’s sucking in a breath, rippling muscles tensing, and that is when you see it, opening now…

A mouth on his stomach!?

You shriek, when it laps against your cheek. “What on…”

“Did you think those were all my tongues? Be good and I’ll let you ride it tonight.” He says, you bite your lip now, stroking his cocks with both of your hands. “And you want it so bad, don’t you slutty bunny?”

“I am not a bunny.” But you do find yourself insanely curious, he retracts it and allows you to finish sucking him, and he’s groaning then, huffing, jutting his hips as the tongues on his hands are lapping at your breasts.

“Fuck, sucking them better than any concubine, look at you.” He whispers, his other hands gripping your head. “Could crush you like this.” You’re crying out now, grinding on the leather plush of the seat below you. “Making a mess of my fucking throne, hmm… F=fuck…”

Sukuna shoves his thick cocks as deep as they can go in your open mouth, you’re gagging and crying, slobber and spit leaking everywhere out of your mouth now, body trembling with need as he’s thickening against your tongue, your cheeks hollow as you suck. Then he’s pulsing, and so much cum starts to pour inside, shocking you, the hot liquid coating your mouth, your tongue.

“Swallow it all, brat.” He orders softly, you gulp it all down, lapping at the tips of his cocks, sucking every bit, feeling his thighs tense under you, his body trembling from aftershocks, leaving you so needy you can’t take it. “Open.”

You do as your king and husband commands, his pastel pink hair is falling just so over his face as a hand wracks through it, spiking it up, and he sees you’ve swallowed it all. He moans now, caressing your cheek, leaning forward. “Did I please you, my king?” He gently smacks your cheek, but his hand is so huge and he’s so strong it stings.

“What was my name again, bunny?”

“Sukuna.” Your voice is hoarse, and Ryomen Sukuna exhales, thumb pressing on your lower lip.

“Open again.” You do as he says, only for him to spit saliva, dripping it into your mouth, shocking you, but you swallow obediently. “That’s a good bunny. One more thing…”

He flips you over now, making you sink to your knees. “What…”

“Clean that mess up.”

“No!” You glare up at him, he kneels down with you, two hands on your breasts, tongues lapping all over you, his free two hands on your waist, pressing you towards the slick on his throne. “You’re disgusting.”

“You love it, slutty little virgin. Go ahead, lick it, if you want me to get you to cum at all. Or I’ll leave you, just like this.” You shake your head, and he grabs your hair, wrapping it around a fist, as your nipples perk up, sensitive and aching, your body covered in goosebumps. “Don’t you want to cum later? All over me?”

“N-no… ah!” Sukuna sinks two thick, long fingers in your cunt then, filling you for the first time, you scream out, walls fluttering around him, dripping down his hands, earning his satisfied groan. “Your nails!? I… ah!”

“You think I’d cut your perfect little cunt?” He laughs now, yanking his fingers out, the nails temporarily gone, only to shoot back out, as his teeth are biting your nipples, you’re a sloppy, drippy mess in front of him. “Lick it, and I’ll come please you in your chambers tonight.”

“You’re even more cruel than they know.” You say, he just laughs now, shoving your head forward, you barely lap it up with a tip of your tongue, to his amused laughter, and you look back and glare.

“You really did it!” He’s holding his stomach in laughter, and now you stand, shoving at him as he’s at level with your tummy, he keeps laughing now as you feel tears prick your eyes.

“Don’t bother coming to my chambers.” You say through tears, overstimulated, humiliated, and suddenly as you’re grabbing your robe he grabs you, yanking you against him. “Leave me alone, go… get a concubine to amuse you.”

Sukuna’s face drops then, as you slip on your robes hastily, he grabs your waist, you try to wriggle free to no avail. “I did not… you…”

“Leave me be.” You’re sobbing now, you don’t know what’s overtaken you, but instead of mocking you further he pulls you close, letting you cry against his chest, holding you with all arms. “Don’t touch m-me.”

“Sad little bunny. Sensitive little brat.” He sighs, stroking your hair now, it feels far too good.

“Are you comforting me?”

He huffs. “No!”

“No?” You look up through watery eyes, Sukuna’s jaw sets now.

“No. Just… it gives me a very irritating feeling when you cry, I do not enjoy that feeling, so I order you to stop.” You shake your head in confusion, hiccuping through your tears. “I said stop, brat.”

“I c-can’t… I want you… and you…”

“Shut your mouth.” He slams his lips on yours, lifting you up like you’re nothing, kissing you over and over. “It was a joke. Do not cry again.”

“I can’t make promises.” He swipes your cheeks with his thumbs, kissing your cheeks now, tasting your salty tears. “You were mean to me.”

He sighs now, brushing the rough pads of his thumbs on your cheeks. “I’ll have to baby you, hmm? Stupid baby.”

“Ugh!” You shove at him again, turning, but he brings your back against him, bending low to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll be in your chambers tonight. Understood?” Your heart starts faltering now, you manage a little nod, and he sighs, holding you so tightly you can’t breathe for a moment, but you relish being in his arms, resting your head against him. “You’re using whatever powers you have over me.”

“I do not even know what my powers are!”

“Hmph. Go.” He kisses your neck and then shoos you away, but you’re pouting. “Do not use those eyes on me.”

“What eyes?” You ask, curiously.

“Do not act so… just… I’ll please you tonight, I have business to attend to. Out.” You bite your lip nervously, pulse thrumming in your ears now, you glare one more time at him, making him run a hand across his face, now back in his robes. “Do I need to shove both my cocks in both your holes right now?”

Your mind whirls at that, as you blink rapidly. “Both my-”

“Out.” You stomp away now, he almost laughs at how adorable you are, but he’s too fucking confused. And luckily you are missing the look of confusion and longing on Sukuna’s face, as he wonders just what are you and why can he not stand your tears when he massacres people!? What sort of damn magic do you possess?

How can the King of curses be so entranced by some little brat!?

He hates the fact that he’d do anything to put a smile on your face after upsetting you.

*****

There is a knock on your door as your maid prepares you for dinner with the King, you’re still so confused by him, so angry at what he thought was amusing, and wonder why you are so desperate for him. Just yesterday you had no clue what pleasure was, now he’s left your body on edge, you’re so eager for him again, he hadn’t barely even touched you.

You shiver just thinking of those fingers sinking into you, how they glistened when he yanked them out, dripping down his long nails. He’d hidden those nails not to hurt you, he cared when you cried… there was more to him then he let on, surely, more to this cursed sorcerer.

You want to know more.

Uraume comes now, holding a delicate white box, opening it and revealing a breathtaking gold and diamond necklace. “What is this!?”

“The King asks that you wear this tonight.” Uraume says, your hands tremble just so, it’s already so opulent living here, but the way it glitters under the soft lights pouring through your window.

“It’s too beautiful.” You whisper.

“King Sukuna has ordered it. Shall I put it on you?” They ask, you nod eagerly, looking in the mirror as Uraume comes behind you, placing the necklace on your throat as you lift your hair out of the way.

“Thank you, it’s so lovely, I adore it.” You touch it gently, one of the many baubles along your collarbone now.

“Do not thank me, it’s the King.”

“Uraume… tell me. Do you… is he… the King is…”

Uraume tilts their head. “My Queen?”

“Do you find the King to be… kind?”

“Kind… hmm. I suppose he can be at times. He is indeed the most powerful. Why do you ask?” Uraume helps finish your hair, taking over for the maid.

“I find him very interesting.” Uraume lets out a little smile that you don’t see.

“I see. Let us go, he does not like to wait.” You follow them now, and are led to the dining hall, where there’s a plethora of food, and instead of your seat on the opposite end as is done, he has it pulled next to him. One of the servants pulls out a seat now, but Sukuna yanks you on his lap.

You gasp, clinging to his neck for stability, muscled, thick and veiny, making you heat up as you think of all of him. He fingers the necklace curiously, tilting his head as one hand holds you down on him, another lifting a fork and stabbing a bite of food, guiding it to your mouth.

“Open.” You do as he says, Sukuna puts a morsel on your mouth. “Chew it up, you’ll need your strength.”

“Strength for?”

He grins now, shifting you on his lap, to where his cocks are pressing against your ass, you feel so tiny on him, his huge body overtaking you, arms all barring you against the dining room table. “Strength for me making you break under me.”

“I… um…” You look up at him, he’s shoving another bite into your mouth, you gasp when he slides a hand up your inner thigh.

“My feisty little bunny has nothing to say?” He taunts, but you truly can’t think, eyes fluttering, moaning when he slides another bite into your mouth, something sweet that bursts as you chew.

“Yummy.” You finally speak, and he sighs, fingers now running under the gems that decorate your chest now, exhaling, holding you just a little tighter, his embrace is addicting, everything about him draws you in, when it should scare you. But as you brush your hand on his face and he tenses, scowling.

“Will you… do that… thing, human?”

“What thing my King?” You ask, and he squishes your cheeks, pressing your lips up on either side, ruby eyes glinting under the chandeliers that hang. “Smile?”

“That. It’s an order.” You giggle then, you can’t help it, Sukuna exhales as he sees you, watches you smile, lighting up your face.

“Is that adequate, my King?” You tease, he is cupping your face tenderly, your heart starts racing, pounding in your chest as you turn toward him, straddling him carefully, leaning close. His hands tense, and you could swear they tremble just a bit, this huge monster of a man, weak for you. “I quite like you, when not being so nasty and cruel.”

“You like me?” He grabs your hips, pulling you against him, until his cocks are pressed on your heat. Your head falls back, a moan escaping, he starts nipping at your breasts harshly with his teeth, leaving bite marks, wet spots glistening. “You’re a foolish girl, perfect prey.”

“I think you like me too.” You grind against him now, fuck it feels good, your neglected clit begging for more. He grips you tightly then, shoving things aside to lay you on the dining table, you take up such a small part of it, laying there so pretty for him, your robes falling apart, revealing your soft skin.

“You’re an impetuous, annoying creature. Have you no sense of self preservation?” He slips his hands up your thighs as they tremble, sliding the silk up your legs, baring you to him, he audibly groans when he sees your cunt again. “Already wet, too?”

“You promised, you know.” You arch your hips up, pouting, and he laughs at you, undoing his robe, you gasp out when his tongue opens from his abdomen, stretching the skin, lapping your pussy up completely, so huge and hot and wet. “Ngh!”

He pulls his tongue back, laying over you, barring you with two strong arms, as the others hold your thighs apart. He leans down so close, and all you ache to do is kiss him more, he’s intimidating, gigantic, he has his stomach licking at you, but you keep thinking how his full lips would feel, smirking on your own. Your hands reach up and you pull at his hair.

“Excuse me, brat.” He swats your hands, and you pout again, earning all four eyes rolling. “Don’t give me that look. Ah, I like that expression, stupid fucked out face.” You’re helpless, when a hand grips your wrists, slamming your bound hands above your head, and his tongue is working between your folds. “Taste s’good on all my mouths.”

“S-Suk-ah!” He’s grinning now, sharp white canines glinting as his tongue slips inside your entrance, it’s so thick your walls are stretched, as he devours you on the dining room table, right next to the dinner that’s falling and clattering to the floor. “M’gonna… gonna…”

“That’s it, let me drink you, bunny.” He leans so close, but he won’t kiss you, he is drinking up all your soaking wet arousal, that starts gushing when he reaches a hand down, pinching your clit as his tongue fucks deeper, only for the tongue on his hand to now flick over your clit.

It’s all too much, your orgasm pours over you until you’re blinded, all while your husband, the king, is grinning, watching you avidly, as drool seeps from your mouth, while you’re shaking, struggling to close your legs, but he doesn’t let you. Your eyes roll back as your cunt throbs around his stomach tongue, and he’s lapping every bit of it from you.

“Please… please…” You whine now, he laughs as he watches.

“Pathetic, look at you. Pathetic, puny little bunny. Please what? Greedy thing, need to keep cumming?” He lets his tongue slide back in his abdomen, but now he’s sinking two fingers in you, pressing on that spot, you whine out, tears falling from pleasure.

“Please… k-kiss me.”

“Kiss you? You’re so odd, you know that?” You scowl, struggling to release your wrists, breasts slipping out of the robe, much to his pleasure and delight, he bends down and sucks on one, sharp teeth biting it, as his cocks press on your tummy.

“Kiss me, w-want it.”

“Demanding little…”

You free your wrists then, much to his surprise, yanking on his hair now, dragging his mouth to yours. He hesitates, but then passionately kisses you, brutal and rough, bruising your lips with his bites, with the force. You wrap your thighs around his thick hips now, rolling up for more and more.

He pulls back for a breath, fingers back in, pumping you so good, you’re cumming again, getting weak from pleasure, soaking his hand, soaking the table, you hear the sound of it, the squishing, your moans echoing in the chamber. You’re sure everyone in the damn castle can hear, but you really don’t care, you’re crying out so much your voice breaks.

“M’ready.” You whine now, reaching down, stroking him, he groans as you do, as he’s straining so hard.

“You’d lose your innocence on a table?” You’re blinking sleepily now, as the third orgasm hits, and you almost lose consciousness, it’s too much, his tongues all over, his hands everywhere, fingers in your cunt, fingers around your throat. Hands on hips, hands on your thighs, tongues lapping you every inch they find. “Slutty, sleepy brat. You will not sleep on me.”

“M’not… sleeping… c-can take it. Want it.” You’re a mess now, as he looks down at you, you’re so fucked out your eyes are fluttering to stay open, you’re covered in marks from his hands, from his mouth. Your pretty face has streaks of tears and drool that’s pooling out the side of it.

He should fuck you now, you’re pliant and ready, but you’re also exhausted and weak, still a human despite whatever energy you have. You’re lazily kissing him, why does he enjoy those kisses this much!? It's not something he even did, but with you… he can’t stand how good your lips feel. He felt horrible all day for hurting your feelings earlier.

Him, wanting a human to smile.

You have wetness glistening on your puffy cunt, glittering with your cum and his saliva, he can taste you everywhere, you’re all over, your scent, your face in his visions every time he blinks. It’s been two days but he’s finding himself obsessed, he wants more and more of you, so much so he can’t focus. You’re getting weaker in his arms, clearly the orgasms have taken their toll.

“You will rest for tomorrow, then your slutty cunt can have my cocks, is that understood? I will not deal with this weakness.” He says, and you giggle, the sound far too good to his ears, you’re grinning even, which is so pretty… and insolent. “You laugh at me? Want a demonstration of punishment for such a thing?”

“S-sorry. I feel s’good.” You’re clearly cockdrunk, and he hasn’t even gotten to slide a cock in you yet. He can’t stop the annoying affection from starting.

“To bed.” He hoists you up now, carrying you, and you snuggle to him, he’s so warm and he feels so good. He’s carrying you up the stairs, and you want more of him, more of this fucking amazing feeling, but you can barely function, eyes heavy, fading in and out. Soon you feel it, the softness of your bed. “Annoying brat.”

“C’mere.” You pull on him, of course he doesn’t budge, he’s pure muscle, but he lets you pull him close, you cup his face, yawning.

“You insolent-”

“Sorry!” You kiss him again, fuck you enjoy it. “I don’t want to displease you… I know we should consummate… I wanna be with you in…”

“Just go to sleep. You don’t displease me, just annoy me.” He says, surprisingly soft, and you look at him curiously, taking in his face as it’s above yours.

“Will you stay in bed with me tonight?” You ask, pleadingly, he sighs, jaw locking now.

“You’re so needy and endlessly aggravating. I have more to do, I cannot just sleep because you’re cock drunk.”

“Cock drunk! Ugh. Fine then.” You sigh, turning over, and when you feel a blanket cover you, you can’t stop the smile on your face. “Will you lay with me for a bit?”

“No, brat.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Go to bed. Now.” You giggle again, and hear his annoyed sigh as he walks out for the night, leaving you to snuggle, still smelling him, feeling him everywhere.

You just want more of him.

taglist Sukuna- @mistygrovesarchive @mima0127 @janrcrosssing @thejujvtsupost @clp-84 @makingtimemine @silvarys @after-laughter-come-tears @vantedaes @liivzen @just-lilita @jdevilmadness @lixern @spaceeyhem @thisisew @bozos-r-us @zwr1tx @slootbear @pamemoonlight @xxyaoi-nationxx @jschlattsgff @alessdramawouldbenice @sukunasfavgroupie @1emma1 @nanamjai @1-800-blues-clues @watashiwasohidesu @vynwan-cbq  @mouseyboo @imbacklovie @cyberket @chuuminn @diannana @hanham10 @arilxup88 @urgirlraven @sillymortalblob @yv-ania

part three>>>

[imissthefire]

if stefan turns out to be, like, some level of not good, I'm gonna drop kick him into the fucking sun.

[gutsby]

Hating Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Celebrating your dad’s birthday at the yacht club becomes damn near unbearable when Joel Miller brings a date along too. Jealousy and hate sex ensue.

Warnings: 18+. Food fight turned hatefuck (don’t ask). Cockwarming and semi-public sex on the bridge deck. Oral (m! and f!receiving). Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Age gap. C*mplay. Katoptronophilia. Orgasm denial. One risqué Viagra joke. Drinking games. Descriptions of vomiting. Joel cockwarming you while smoking a cigarette <3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

"Can ya try that one more time, sweet pea? For daddy?"

You can. Try, anyway. Controlling your tongue while he’s buried so deep inside you is a far harder task than expected, though. Especially when he’s so still.

Joel sees it. Feeling a twinge of pity, he leans over your body and digs his hips even deeper—not thrusting, but still granting a modicum of friction as he takes another drag of his cigarette. The hot, heavy throb of his girth pulses like your own fucking heartbeat, and your eyes roll back.

An orangutan on roller skates would’ve had more grace.

A grizzly bear in hibernation might’ve been more lively.

A fucking cross-eyed octopus reciting Shakespeare would’ve been less strange, alarming, and painfully awkward to see than your father’s best friend the week after he’d railed you senseless in the front seat of his car.

Joel Miller had shown up with a date, for Christ’s sake.

Of course, you’d been three cocktails deep and playing stack cup with a random group of gentlemen on the bridge deck at the time, but that was almost immaterial. This was your dad’s fifty-first birthday party—one of the rowdiest nights the Austin Yacht Club had yet to see—and yeah, you planned on getting belligerently shitfaced on Dirty Shirleys and obscene amounts of catered food.

You’d never thought to bring a date of your own, though.

That was just distasteful and crass, all things considered.

Presently, you slammed your ping pong ball to the tabletop and watched it make a wide arc over your cup.

“Fuckfuckfuuuuuck,” you whispered low as the man four spots down made it in, and the man after him bounced the ball straight into his own on the first go. He moved the tall, swaying stack of red Solos immediately to your right, and you knew from the jump you were fucked.

Tommy Miller was a master at stack. You could already see the sly smile on his face from the corner of your eye.

Just as Mötley Crüe gave way to Hall & Oates on the speakers overhead, Joel’s brother crammed his stack of cups over your own and made a smug, triumphant bow.

“All you, kid,” he grinned and slid the second to last cup in your direction.

You could’ve cursed his whole bloodline, Joel included.

There was no way in hell you were getting stuck with death cup again—the last, cruel punishment for the loser of the game a mix of three different types of liquor, soda, and a spritz of Natty Light. Filled to the brim and waiting to be downed by whoever didn’t sink the final shot.

You squared your shoulders and locked the fuck in.

Bounced the ball once. Twice. Christ, this was hard. The man to your left was struggling too, but he seemed just as determined and twice as skilled, and you were pretty buzzed. A second later, he made it in and, of course, slid it right back to Tommy, who was practically overcome with laughter.

“MILLER! MILLER! MILLER!” Men were not creative when it came to chants. Or beating fists on furniture.

“Quit shakin’ the shit!” Tommy roared, tapping his ping pong ball deftly onto the table’s surface.

You blinked a few hazy, anxious thoughts out of your head and tried with everything in you not to miss this shot. The instrumental bridge of ‘Maneater’ was sinking its teeth in your soul and taunting your nerves to no end.

You took the ball, swallowed hard, watched the cup, and flicked your wrist, at last, from a singularly perfect angle.

The ball was a millisecond away from making it in.

Tommy Fuckstick Miller managed to stack you first.

A chorus of obnoxious, wholly drunk howls rang loud in your ears, and suddenly, the attention was back on you, the unhappy victim of the game’s most gruesome drink.

You didn’t hesitate. You pinched your nose and guzzled from the cup before the torment could go on any longer.

You did well at first.

Opened your throat like a pro and cleared it down to the last fourth of the drink, to the point where you could see the slick white bottom side of the cup clear as day.

Your mouth had just flooded with the final draught of death cup when a familiar guitar riff caught you off guard.

You weren’t sure why it had to happen that way, but after being forced to listen to the song some five thousand times on your road trip with Joel, the tenor of Billy Joel’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard to you now. Grating. Nauseating.

Vomit-inducing.

Swiftly, you ran to the nearest railing and lost your last drink—and your whole dinner—over the side of the boat.

You yakked into Lake Travis like you never had before.

And, just as that stupid, forever-tainted song surged on, you heard footsteps approaching. A moment’s pause. Then a hand on your back. Patting gently and, seconds later, lowering a cup of water to the side of your head.

Your face was still dangling upside down off the yacht. You didn’t want to be touched.

“Go to hell, Tommy,” you muttered.

“You first,” he said, chuckling.

You didn’t sit so much as slump back onto the deck with your head in your hands. The whole boat had gone sideways in your mind, and Tommy’s outstretched arm looked more like a bubbling lump than a friendly gesture.

You groaned at the sight of the cup and shook your head.

“I’m alright, okay. I’m good.”

Then, when the cup didn’t waver:

“Can they change the fucking song already?!”

Tommy cocked a brow and squatted down next to you. He set the water aside.

“Got a problem with dad rock or somethin’?” he smirked.

You shook your head no—it wasn’t the music that was making you sick but the man Tommy called his brother that made you wanna vomit again. The thought of that man tangled up with a svelte brunette who looked fresh off the cover of Sports Illustrated when he couldn’t even be bothered to shoot you a text after the condom broke last week. Like he just didn’t give a shit if you were alive, dead, or pregnant with his child. Unfortunately, you had nothing more to throw up, and your eyes were on fire.

Tommy slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. Took a handkerchief out of his pocket.

“No more Dirty Shirleys for you, young lady,” he chided, dabbing lightly at the tears that had trickled out.

“No more men for me,” you grumbled quietly.

You couldn’t see it then, but you could feel him trying not to smile. He tugged you closer.

“Boy trouble, huh?” he said, “Whose ass needs kickin’?”

Your brother, actually. Curb stomp that fucker, please.

You shrugged instead.

“Some guy from school.”

Tommy nodded, waiting for you to elaborate. When you didn’t, he just assumed you wanted to keep it to yourself—which you did—and squeezed your shoulder softly.

“Well…you know you’ve got your dad, me, and Joel to beat the shit outta any guy, any time, any place, right?”

You wished it were that simple. You wiped your nose and nodded all the same.

“And…” Tommy started again, working slow to get you back on your feet, “Most guys your age don’t know their ass from their fuckin’ elbow, honeybun. Don’t take it too personal if he’s dumb enough to lose a gem like you.”

The corners of your lips twitched slightly at his words. Almost smiling by the time he had you up on your feet.

“Thanks, Tommy.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

You might’ve rolled your eyes when he pinched your cheek, but the water he held back up for you to drink looked far too appetizing, and you knew he meant well. You took the cup from him and started to chug.

Again, you’d almost made it through the whole refreshment when a sound threw you off. Abruptly.

“Where have you two lovebirds been?!” Tommy chirped.

You lowered your water and almost regurgitated again. Bile jumped up in your throat, and you just narrowly managed to keep it all down with a cough and a sputter.

Joel and Ms. Centerfold were at the far end of the deck.

Joel was tucking his dress shirt back into his pants.

Are you fucking kidding me?

“Gettin’ nasty on her daddy’s yacht? That’s bold,” Tommy cackled, nudging you playfully.

Your face was bloodless. Every last ounce of pretense and decorum had spilled out with your dinner, before, and now you were just staring at Joel blankly. Numb.

You watched him shove the last clump of his shirt under the waistband and straighten up slightly. The woman at his side flashed you and Tommy a blinding white smile.

“Might say the same for you,” she called back. She seemed to be eyeing you both with a half-curious look.

Tommy made a face as if to say ‘yuck—what the fuck?’ and threw his arm around you again, shaking you lightly.

“She’s like my little sister, Ashton. You’re fuckin’ gross.”

Little sister. Nice. Like a knife twisting inside your gut.

If Joel took any notice of the comment, he didn’t show it. He just stood there, dull and impassive as a loaf of bread. Every coarse lineament of his face was unreadable—just as bleak, bland, and uncaring as the eyes staring out of it. Then he fished around in his back pocket and pulled out his lighter and a pack of American Spirits. He passed the latter to Ashton and leaned over to give her a light.

Throwing yourself off the boat seemed like the most logical next move out of anything available to you.

That’s when you knew you were off your shit and needed to leave the bridge deck—immediately.

“Need a drink,” you mumbled, starting off the other way.

Tommy was hot on your heels, following fast after you.

“That’s— that’s actually the last thing you need, I think, sweetie. How ‘bout some lemonade?”

“Can you spike it with bleach?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Tommy followed you down the staircase straight through to the galley, past the throngs and pockets of partygoers crowding the main dining area. Hitting the bar was a bad idea—wait staff knew you well enough to sense when you were utterly trashed, sad, or both—so you slipped toward the wine cooler and quickly sidestepped Tommy.

“No! No way. Nuh-uh.” He was still trying to block your access to the fridge when you grabbed hold of the door.

“Hair of the dog, Thomas.”

“That’s not a thing. That’s— you just projectile vomited off the deck, dude. You need a breather.”

You stopped just long enough to let Tommy pry you off the refrigerator handle and back to the kitchen island. You were pissed off, sure, but also not nearly prepared for another drop of alcohol if you were being honest with yourself. Your head was still spinning when you sat down on the counter.

Once you were settled, Tommy got to rifling through the cabinets, and you pressed a hand to your forehead.

“So how long’s that been going on?” You couldn’t help it.

“Wha- oh, Joel and Ash?” Tommy hummed from deep inside a cupboard. He came out with a small blue box.

You winced at the nickname. Watched him go from the pantry to the sink, fill a glass halfway, find a spoon, and tear the box in two, along with a couple chalky tablets.

“They’ve been…weird.” The sentence was punctuated with a pinch of his brow and a frown. He started stirring.

“Weird how?”

Your feet were dangling over the edge of the island; you pretended to gain a sudden interest in a smudge on the toe of your shoe.

“Weird like…I don’t know,” Tommy tossed the spoon in the sink and turned back to you. Holding out the cup, “They’ve been ‘friendly’ for years—Ash is a coworker of ours—and Joel swears it’s nothing more…but I dunno.”

He ended his speech again with that weird intonation and grimace, like he wasn’t so sure if he believed what he was saying himself, then shook his head and shrugged. He watched you take a sip of the Alka-Seltzer and urged you to get the whole thing down. It tasted like shit.

“Christ, that’s salty,” you coughed.

You didn’t want to keep going, but Tommy tipped the glass back in your hand and made you finish.

“It’ll help with your stomach,” he said before strolling over to the caterers’ fridge to look for bland food options.

“So if they’re not a thing, why’d he bring her here?”

You didn’t care what Tommy thought of your questions. He knew you were eager to hear the tea in any situation.

You watched as your friend procured a hand of bananas and some bread. He gave the fruit to you and took the bread over to the toaster, where he dropped in two slices. You couldn’t quite tell if he was contemplating an answer, didn’t want to spill, or hadn’t heard the question at all. He snagged a plate and a butter knife while you peeled apart your snack, silently dying to know the truth.

At length, Tommy shrugged. Again.

“‘Cause Joel’s a goddamn drama queen and doesn’t know what he wants, I s’pose,” he said.

Ain’t that the truth.

Then, after a minute:

“Had his panties in a wad ever since he went to Boston.”

You stiffened hearing that. You couldn’t pretend to be invested in your shoe scuff, the floor, or the food in your hand any longer. Your eyes flitted up to Tommy to see if his expression had shifted any.

It hadn’t—he was just looking for strawberry jam.

“You hitched a ride home with him then, didn’t you?” he asked casually.

You swallowed and nodded. You watched Tommy retrieve the two freshly-warmed pieces of toast that jumped up to greet him and, having found the jam he wanted, slapped them both on a plate and lathered them up. You muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ as he slid them over.

You were almost too scared to ask more questions, but you knew you had to find out. About Joel, Ashton, anything Tommy might’ve gleaned about your trip home from Boston. You found you could hardly sit in one place and had to step off the counter to eat your food.

“Joel’s been, uhh…how do Gen Z’s say it? Trippin’ balls?” Tommy reached for a banana himself and started in.

“Tweaking,” you corrected him.

“Tweakin’, yeah. Joel’s been a real fuckin’ tweaker lately.”

“In what way?”

“Just…shuttin’ himself in is all. Wouldn’t talk to me or your dad or anybody for days after he got back. Didn’t show up for our monthly Bingo matchup at Mando’s—and he hasn’t missed one of those in almost six years.”

You pursed your lips, equally mystified. You knew just how seriously your dad and his friends took those games—how rare it was for Joel to turn down any opportunity to drink, play Star Wars-themed Bingo, and shoot the shit with his buddies over Coors Light and cheese curds. You took another bite and waited for Tommy to continue.

“And there’s— there was this…thing he— I dunno.”

Suddenly, it seemed your friend had lost the power of coherent speech, and he was rubbing the back of his neck, flashing a half-sheepish smile, and shaking his head. Contemplating whether he should share something with you and ultimately deciding against it.

You raised both eyebrows.

“What?”

“Nah, it’s dumb, really.”

“Tell me.” You took a far-too-large bite of your banana and had some trouble getting it down.

“Well, he…” Tommy trailed off, shifting his gaze from yours to take a look at his own shoe, for a second, “When me and your dad were riding with Joel to a work site…we, uh…found a box of Plan B in his glove compartment.”

Half-chewed banana and toast almost flew across the room while you spluttered and choked and just barely managed to cover your mouth to keep it all in.

“Right? Threw me for a loop, too,” Tommy grinned as you beat your chest with a fist and fought to keep yourself breathing, “Your dad damn near had a baby when he picked that little box and those booty shorts up himself.”

When he what?! You wanted to scream, just picturing your straight-laced, conservative father flipping a Plan B box between his hands, in shock, and then…your shorts—when the fuck had you taken your shorts off again?

Right, when you were busy trying to scoop some more of Joel’s jizz from your cunt as he raced you both to CVS.

Good times.

You held your hair back and leaned over the sink, spitting two more chunks of banana and bread down the drain. Tommy reached around behind you for the spigot and filled another glass with water as he tried not to laugh.

“Easy, now,” he said, patting your back like he’d done for you before, “Joel didn’t happen to mention this lady friend to you now, did he?”

“No,” you choked. You wiped your mouth clear of any spit and food residue and slowly blinked down into the sink, feeling an old wave of nausea begin to settle over you. Accepted the new glass of water from Tommy and hoped he wouldn’t notice the tremor in your hand as you did.

The man seemed completely oblivious. Still standing close behind you, Tommy rubbed circles in your back and leaned a little closer.

“Death cup really got ya, huh?” He smirked, and you realized then that he very much was like an older brother. This whole situation with Joel was fucked on so many levels and would be fucked tenfold if Tommy ever found out.

You turned around and felt yourself steadied between two warm, broad palms—‘Wanna sit? Lie down?’—and then you were shaking your head, reaching for another banana and trying like hell to seem semi-composed, though every neuron in your brain was firing away at a million miles per second and your legs were feeling like scrambled eggs.

“I’m okay.”

“Yeah?”

Suddenly, one of Tommy’s hands had moved up to brush a few strands of hair from your face, and you felt your skin radiating raw heat. A deep-seated anxiety, too.

He’s going to find out—what if he already knows?

What if Joel tells Tommy?

What if Tommy tells dad?

Your mind was reeling, on fire, still working in earnest to find something to tell your friend to say you were fine, just dizzy, and definitely not fucking his big brother.

Your brain was drawing blank after blank after blank.

Just then, a clatter sounded nearby. Both of you jumped.

When you shot a look to the source of the intrusion, you nearly folded into Tommy from secondhand humiliation.

“Nice hands, feet,” the younger Miller called over to Joel, who was currently trying to recover the dozen-odd pots and pans he’d knocked over at the threshold of the room. You stared at the two in a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and disgust—the latter reserved exclusively for Joel.

You set your drink down, held your hand over your stomach, and pretended to head for the bathroom.

“Be right back,” you muttered, brushing past both men.

You knew you wouldn’t be back at all if you could help it.

Still clutching your banana in one hand and your raucously churning tummy in the other, you climbed the galley stairs fast to get back up to the bridge deck. You almost tripped over both your heels trying to make it up the steps so quick, desperate for solitude and quiet.

Another hair metal hit from the ‘80s was playing overhead, but fortunately, the deck was free of people. You stumbled over to one of the catering tables, looking helplessly for something that might settle your belly, but no, this sickness was coming straight from your head—from that insufferable munch of a man, Joel Miller.

You gingerly approached the railing behind the table and prepared yourself for another round of dry heaving.

You rested both elbows on the metal, looked out toward the dark, glassy water beneath you, then hung your head in abject defeat. You slid your tongue across the roof of your mouth and waited for the vomit to come.

The only thing that followed were footsteps.

Heavy, thunderous sounds making their way up the stairs.

“Stay back, Tommy. Please.” You raised a hand to the man approaching softly behind you, not turning your head, “That Alka-Seltzer stuff didn’t work for shit.”

“Shoulda stuck to water, sweet pea.”

That made you pivot.

Not a quick tilt of the head or a twist to the side, but a full-fledged 180-degree spin on your heels, hand to your gut, what-the-FUCK-are-you-doing-here turnaround.

You stared ahead and felt sicker than you had all night.

Then, pointing one crooked, accusatory finger his way without thinking, you hardly knew or heard what you were saying before the words came out. It sounded a little something like, “Joel, you goddamn fucking idiot.”

Joel didn’t flinch.

In fact, he seemed supremely unfazed.

He just held your fuming gaze and frowned.

“You tryin’ to fuck my little brother or somethin’?”

Your hand had closed around your banana on the table before his words had hung in the air for even a second. You flung the fruit full-force at his head, enraged.

Unfortunately, you were drunk and your aim was shit. Your yellow boomerang-like weapon of choice barely made it within three feet of its target before it glanced off a light fixture and struck the ground with a thud.

Accuracy be damned, you weren’t quite done.

“You left the fucking Plan B out for my dad to find?!”

Just when Joel tried to answer, or perhaps hurl another accusation in your direction, you stuck your hand in the closest catering tray you could find—a serving of green peas, as it was. You lobbed a handful at the man as he started to draw closer, and this time, you managed to land a pretty hefty spray. Joel only rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t leave it there—you did,” he retorted.

“My shorts, too?!”

You grabbed another fistful of peas and threw it. Joel was able to dodge it right before making it to the other end of the table. He gripped the edges of the wood in both hands and stood stern—imposingly—opposite you.

“Your shorts, your fuckin’ problem, sweets.”

Just when you reached for another green pea projectile, he surprised you and made for the tray right beside it.

Shortly, a glob of garlic mashed potatoes struck the front of your dress and slid slow, almost sluggishly down the pristine pink silk fabric before falling at your feet. Joel’s aim was evidently much better than yours.

You brushed what chunks of food you could get off your chest and pinned him with a wide, incredulous look.

“You’re a Grade A fucking asshole, you know that?”

“You’re a bit of a shithead too, potato tits.”

“FUCK you!”

“Already DID!”

You would’ve flipped the whole table if it were in your power to do so. Would’ve toppled all the tables, kicked the chairs, took a lighter to the curtains and sent the goddamned yacht down in flames if you had to—that was how much you despised the man in front of you.

Instead, you threw your hands up and stormed off.

“Maybe I will fuck Tommy!” you barked as you started toward the stairs, “I’ll fuck your brother’s brains out, and you can screw Ashton all you want, how ‘bout that?”

You’d made it about two feet before Joel grabbed hold of one of your wrists and yanked you back. You didn’t hesitate to throw a gruff—and ultimately fruitless—punch that hit him square in the chest. He didn’t budge.

“You don’t mean that,” Joel sneered. He shook your whole frame with one simple flick of his forearm.

“I’ll tap your whole bloodline like a keg, Miller. Try me.”

Again, you tried to shake him off, but the hand only constricted around you tighter. Then it was walking you backwards, slowly, almost carefully, until your back was to a wall and your eyes were searching his, angry as ever.

“You’d break your daddy’s heart with that one,” Joel said just above you, voice lowered considerably.

“Yeah?” you challenged, “Maybe if I was less of a shithead I would care what my dad thought. But I’m not. So I won’t.”

“Wasn’t talkin’ about your father, darlin’.”

Joel was good.

He was an insufferable ass and he was good.

Then you remembered the radio silence over the past seven days and the fact that he may or may not have fucked someone else earlier that night—possibly right where you were standing—and he lost all appeal real quick. You shoved him hard in the chest once more.

“Don’t play that shit with me. You, of all people—” You made as if to read him the riot act but cut yourself short, deciding it wasn’t worth your time explaining human empathy to a man who believed bootcut jeans and all things Ely Cattleman were peak fashion, and just learned what ovulation was last week. Then, sliding along the wall and trying to head to the stairs again, you felt Joel’s leg slot between your own.

“What did I do?” he said, curious.

Before you could answer, his thigh had stirred in place, grazing lightly over the spot the hem of your minidress had exposed to him. You ignored it.

“Doesn’t matter,” was your non-answer.

Joel seemed intrigued by the ambiguity and only lowered his head to get closer to yours—‘Then why’re ya so mad you’re throwin’ dinner food at me, darlin’?’—puffing warm breaths on your neck and only smiling when you flinched back. He took your response as a cue to keep pressing, both figuratively and physically.

“Just wanted attention or somethin’? That what it is?” Joel’s voice was as saccharine as it was taunting, words paired with a hand circling light across your thigh. He wasn’t moving in, and it was tearing you to shreds inside.

“Fuck your attention, and fuck you, Joel.”

Words hardly reflecting how you felt internally.

Swiftly, then, the hand at your leg was raised to your face—cupping it with a bit more force than you expected. Joel’s grin stretched even wider.

“Attention and discipline,” he mused aloud, “Two things dad never gave his little girl growin’ up, I see.”

Before you could reply, he was squeezing your face even tighter and nodding his head, as if already anticipating your answer. Then, somehow lower, “Such a filthy mouth on her, too. Never knows when to keep it shut and how to be polite to someone who fucked her so nice already.”

You might’ve whimpered if you didn’t also want to throat punch the motherfucker and knee him in the balls. When Joel started stroking your cheek, you groaned instead, and you hoped he would hear it as chagrin, not arousal.

“I can help with both of those, y’know—” His thumb rubbed a little harder, and his leg moved up. You pressed your hands flat to his thigh to keep him from teasing, but the man would do no such thing to oblige you. In fact, he just shifted his leg back and forth…and back, again. A ripple of bliss from the friction sparked low inside you.

“I can give you attention, and I can scrub that mouth clean if that’s what you really need,” Joel continued, “Just say the word, darlin’.”

“Fucker.” That was your word.

And it worked well enough for Joel.

In the next instant, he had you half-carried, half-dragged across the deck and thrown onto the table where you’d lost that dreaded game of stack. Solo cups still littering the surface, and puddles of beer soaking in through your dress, you made a sound of disgust and tried to thrust yourself up, just to fail. You squirmed and swatted at the man standing in front of you, who easily kept you pinned to the surface with one palm laid calmly on your belly.

He reached into the back pocket of his trousers and retrieved his lighter and cigarette pack.

“Someone could catch us,” you hissed, helpless, unsure of what else to say to show you weren’t giving in just yet.

Joel lit up in four seconds flat. He sucked in a breath.

“I roped off the stairs coming up,” he replied.

He what?

You moved back, slowly, on the surface when Joel worked a hand to his belt buckle, and you heard half a dozen plastic cups fall to the floor behind you.

You would not be his date’s sloppy seconds—ever.

Joel yanked at your thighs and pulled you back to be straddling his hips, shrugging his pants down; you couldn’t bear to keep looking when he lowered his briefs.

He took another drag and eyed you hungrily, happy to see you all sprawled out and pretty before him. The tight fabric of your dress had cinched over your hips and left you bare to just panties, making him grow even harder.

“Joel.”

He worked his dick out of his pants and moved the head to trail slow along the seam of your barely-clothed cunt. Even through the lace, he could feel how wet you were. He notched the tip at the space where your panties had parted just slightly to the side and felt your arousal pool even wetter around the end of his member. He grunted.

“Joel, I—”

“Daddy’s gonna give ya attention, sugar. Hold still.”

You couldn’t. Wouldn’t. You splayed your fingers over the hand that was trying to guide his cock into you and clenched your jaw—every carnal fibre in your being telling you not to do what you were about to try anyway.

“You fucked her didn’t you?”

Joel flicked the ash off his cigarette, “No.”

“You brought her here.”

“Had to.”

Your face was flushed and likewise flooded with smoke, curling slow from Joel’s lips before it painted the air an opaque, muddied grey above you. You wriggled your hips away from his, and for once, he didn’t try to stop you.

“I saw you tucking your shirt in. Tommy said you fucked!”

“Tommy’s about one fry short of a Happy Meal, honey,” Joel puffed once more, “He’s always sayin’ shit like that.”

Incredibly, he’d managed to use about a dozen funny words in that old Texas lilt and still say so little to actually answer your question. When the pinch in your brow told him you weren’t quite satisfied, Joel let out a sigh.

“Ash spilled pebre on my shirt. I had to change.”

Oh.

“And you—” you started.

“—have no fuckin’ right to know, one way or the other, because you’re the one who said we’d just ‘fuck and forget it,’ remember?” Joel interrupted, reminding you of your own curt words from your Bronco boning session.

Again, you tried to speak and found yourself spoken for, Joel carrying on as casual as ever as he sucked the last life-breath from his cig and stared you down, cynically.

“Your dad’s the one who made me bring her tonight. Said I seemed ‘down’ since the last gal I fucked wasn’t around—I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was his daughter—and here we are,” Joel smiled, wryly, and flicked his cigarette into the lake. You would’ve liked to tell him littering was a crime that trashed us all but refrained.

You were too busy staring at his lips, wondering why he hadn’t kissed you yet. You reckoned all the pea flinging, swearing, and swinging might’ve played a small part.

At length, Joel slid a new American Spirit out of its pack and wrangled you back to his hips as he lit up again.

“Happy?” he said, after a beat.

You weren’t sure whether to nod or cross your arms. Beckon him in with both hands or kick his bunched-up pants, belt, and boxer briefs away altogether and keep the bratty act going. You didn’t like being wrong.

At any rate, it didn’t matter. He’d called you on your bluff.

Still smoking, still smiling, still happy as a clam at high tide, Joel pressed his length straight up to your folds and watched you squirm on the wood underneath him.

“Gonna listen now?” he hummed.

“Uh-huh.”

Good, his wretchedly deep brown eyes seemed to say. Good that you were here, good that you were spread wide and supine beneath him, good that you’d gone all soft and pliable under his touch and were watching him now with a look that said you’d let him do just anything.

Good that he could fuck you.

Great that he wasn’t planning to—not fully, anyway.

Joel wasted no time taking your answer in the affirmative to slip past your panties and push deep inside your sweet cunt. When your walls stretched and cried all around him, he sighed and gripped your legs even tighter. He gritted the cigarette between his teeth and brought your ankles to rest over his shoulders, sinking in even deeper. Then he had to hold steady inside you and keep you flat on the table in front of him, and just when you whined to fuck me now, Joel, fuck me right now, daddy, please, he stilled. He took a big, long drag and didn’t move an inch.

He’d teach you some discipline one way or another.

“Joel, please,” you groaned again, hands bracing the table to start fucking up and down on his shaft, before he put a stop to that fast and held you firmly in place, “Please, Joel, I need you so fucking bad, daddy, please.”

Joel tapped his ash to the side and ignored your pleas.

He felt your walls contract around him and tried not to grunt. He focused instead on the smoke overhead.

“Wanna say that nicer?” he asked, deadpan. Then, staring expectantly down at you, while you flushed and struggled to stay still, “Keep that mouth a little cleaner?”

Fuck, did he have that father-figure tone down to a T.

You laid there before him and almost forgot his cock was wedged inside you for a second. He seemed so sincere.

“I wan— want you to move, daddy, I-I-I don’t know how else to say i— FUCK!” Your pussy spasmed around him when the tip of his pubic bone grazed your clit. That squeaky clean mouth of yours was nowhere to be seen.

“Mhmm,” Joel nodded anyway, pretending to be observing your behavior as he might for a clinical trial. Like he was testing a new drug, not his dick inside your cunt, practically clenching in Morse code around him.

“Can ya try that one more time, sweet pea? For daddy?”

You could. Try, anyway. Controlling your tongue while he was buried so deep inside you seemed to be a far harder task than you could’ve ever expected, though.

Joel sensed it. Feeling a twinge of pity, he leaned over your body and dug his hips even deeper—not thrusting, but still granting some modicum of friction. The hot, heavy throb of his girth pulsed inside you like your own fucking heartbeat, and your eyes rolled back.

“Fucking shitsucking DICK BITCH CUNT! FUCK!”

Sounding every bit the uncouth novice in a COD lobby chat circa 2009, you knew you didn’t have the faintest hope of earning Joel’s strokes now. You hated yourself for it—and Joel, too, for subjecting you to such cruel and unusual punishment for just needing to fuck him hard.

You were desperate and heated. Five seconds away from yanking your sex off of his and going to town with your own fingers, you felt a palm press down on your tummy.

Damn Joel and his super-sized hands.

You could barely breathe, much less pry yourself off.

Joel was quiet and calm. Stuffing you full and puffing away at his cigarette the whole time. He smirked.

“Ain’t that difficult, honey,” he said, hardly losing his will or his sympathy when you shot a raw glance his way, “Stay still on this cock and ask daddy nicely, ‘s’all ya gotta do.”

He could tell by the look in your eyes you couldn’t stand to play nice—but needed to cum. He watched you swallow your pride, soften your eyes just a bit, and when you felt you might implode from all the feeling, whined,

“Please make me feel good, daddy, please, I need it.”

Joel breathed and eased back just an inch, lowering his hand to thumb softly at your clit. You keened.

“That’s my sweet girl.”

Still just rubbing that bundle and looking down while you came unraveled, Joel thought you perfectly sublime. He’d kill to keep you there like that, eyes rolling and skin soaking the table beneath you both in sweat and arousal. He stared down at the place your bodies were connected—a sliver of his cock visible and soaked with your juices—and he felt a wave of desire crest over his mind. Panting, quietly, he brought one hand to your hip and kept the other working furiously over your clit, trying to ignore the urge to rut inside you. It was self-discipline for him, too.

He wouldn’t let you know that yet, though.

He crushed the cigarette between his teeth and kept still.

“Ya like that, sugar? Like daddy stuffed inside this pussy, makin’ ya beg real pretty for me?” His husky Southern drawl ran like molasses off his tongue, thicker now when he was balls-deep and half-drunk off your cunt.

You watched his mouth, intrigued, and saw a long line of spit drip deliciously from those pretty, stubbled lips of his to your lower ones, making the spot more filthy and warm as your fluids mixed together. Still, Joel didn’t move a thing more than his thumb—but the sounds from you both were growing louder and more desperate.

The gentle squelch of spit, sweat, and arousal running all down your pussy, paired with those noises you made when you were feeling this good and squeezing him tight, was enough to send Joel straight over the edge. Now he didn’t have the strokes or any motion to focus on before him, just you—he flicked his cigarette away the second he sensed you were getting close yourself.

“Sweet little thing,” he cooed, still rubbing in circles, “How’s my baby feelin’?”

You clawed at the table beneath you and knocked your head back once or twice on the wood, humming a quick, ‘Good, daddy, good’ in the most hoarse and pathetic voice you’d ever used, and Joel smiled. You hadn’t cursed out loud in a minute and seemed to be taking his touches well. He’d have to give you some form of reward.

Gently, Joel pulled back and made a shallow thrust inside you. Both your body and his jolted with pleasure.

“FU—n stuff, fun stuff,” you hissed, trying hard to mask the expletive.

In truth, Joel was struggling too. Just one stroke inside you and that coil inside him was about ready to burst.

“Fun, huh?” he teased, keeping his motions down to quick pistons as he laid his palms flat on either side of your head, “Daddy make ya feel fun-ny, does he?”

“Yeah, he does, he— ah, SHIT right there, right there!”

Evidently, he’d found your G spot.

Joel stilled inside you as soon as the foul word escaped.

You whined. Loud. Almost tempted to burst into tears.

“Nononono, that doesn’t count, Joel! That doesn’t—” Your voice was shortly supplanted by a whimper when the man went back to thumbing your clit, hips rendered still once more and cock wedged deep inside your core.

“What’s it gonna take to make you behave for me, huh? Do I have to talk to your daddy again?” Joel seethed.

You shook your head quick and felt him circle your clit even harder, more punishing now. Your body craved the friction from his cock but could barely contain the words that were coming out now. You pinched your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm creeping closer and closer, and whimpered gently, desperately, ‘Fuckfuckfuuuuuck.’

Whether it came down to making terrible plays at stack cup or getting your clit torn apart by Joel’s thumb, you simply could not keep the filthy language at bay.

You weren’t going to listen, that much was clear.

Joel had no choice but to make you learn a different way.

So, prying his fingers and his cock from your cunt, he reached across for your hips instead—pulling you off of the table and pushing you down to the floor, at his feet.

He smoothed a palm over the top of your head and fisted your hair in one hand, his cock in the other, and brought his hot, swollen, slick-coated length within an inch of your face, stroking fast.

Your gaze flitted from the sight in front of you to Joel’s eyes, back and forth, stunned and in utter disbelief. As you felt your own climax crumble and recede from you at once, the sound jumped up your throat before you could stop,

“What the FUCK is your problem, Joel?!”

“There it is,” Joel just flared his nostrils as he jerked himself above you, “There’s that nasty fuckin’ mouth.”

He pulled your head even rougher and tipped your chin back to meet the scowl on his face. Pleasure had almost swallowed the man whole, yet his expression scarcely betrayed a trace of it, eyes cold and jaw clenched tight.

“If that mouth can’t be good for me, can it open real wide and show me how a dirty slut does it?”

You were beside yourself. Holding his gaze like a bomb might go off in his brain any second—something you’d be happy to see—you scowled as well. Begrudgingly, and knowing Joel wouldn’t ease off of this punishment until he’d made you pay for your language, you nodded.

“What’s’at?” Joel snapped, stroking himself even faster, “What do ya want me to do, sugar?”

You gritted your teeth and silently wished they were crushing his balls to powder between them.

“Want…you…to cum…on my face.”

“Little louder, sweet pea, can’t hear ya from up here.”

The sound of his palm working over his cock again and again, shimmery and slick with your arousal soaking it, was almost too much to bear. You watched, forlorn and silently boiling with rage as Joel stared down at you, as merciless as he’d ever been. Mocking, almost, it seemed.

“Want you to…cum on me, please.”

“One more time, darlin’,” Joel pressed, pupils blown wide with desire, “Be real sweet and say it one more time f—”

“I WANT YOU TO CUM ON MY FACE, YOU FUCKER.”

That sparked the first real smile on Joel’s lips you’d seen in a while, and then he was watching you cockily, nodding.

Before you could even think to blink, stand up, or storm off again, you felt a fat, sticky-wet glob of warmth hit your cheek. Then another. Then another. Then another. You winced and flinched back, but Joel held your head in place, in front of his cock, and gripped you firmly as he unloaded rope after rope of his cum all over your face.

By the time he was finished, your skin was glistening. Coated in the stuff and still blinking through strings of the hot, sticky mess as Joel stood over you, chest heaving fast as he pumped himself through his release.

Must be fucking nice.

When the downpour had slowed to a trickle, two thick fingers swiped at a dollop of cum on your cheek. Then, wordlessly, they moved down to your mouth.

“Open,” Joel commanded.

You’d barely parted your lips a quarter of an inch when he pushed both digits inside. Swirled them around in your mouth and made sure to cover every soft, wet contour and crevice before pulling out with a pop.

He wiped at your other spend-streaked cheek and repeated the action, plunging his fingers in and out of your mouth to make sure you cleaned him thoroughly. This was more of an act meant to tease than anything else, you knew, almost demeaning in the way he stood there and nodded his head while murmuring, ‘’Atta girl.’

You hated how much you liked that stupid show of dominance—and, even worse, how good he tasted.

Joel brushed your tongue with another fingerful and watched you bob your head in time. He hummed his approval and scanned your face for any spend left over.

There was a lot. He paused, as if considering something.

“Drop ‘em.” Joel motioned to the straps of your dress.

You did as he said and pulled both bands down at once. When your breasts spilled out of the fabric, you watched Joel lower his gaze and, fixating on the spot you’d just exposed to him, take two—no, three—careful fingers to collect the remainder of himself and spread it downward.

Joel took his cum and smeared it all over your tits.

He was equal parts meticulous, gentle, and gratuitous in doing so, and he took pleasure in every second.

With a heavy-lidded, glossy gaze trained unwaveringly on your chest, Joel rolled each nipple between forefinger and thumb and fell into a trance. Rubbed you up and down every inch he could find and groaned at the sight. Glazing your skin all over with him and savoring it.

You couldn’t deny the feeling of being marked in a way so degrading, dirty, and adoring at once had a dizzying effect on you, too. The look in his eyes, and the soft brush of his fingers, almost quelled your rage entirely.

Almost.

When Joel pulled your spaghetti straps back into place—and you, in turn, back onto your feet—you yanked away. Forcefully. While Joel straightened up, silently cursed his bad back, tucked his dick in his pants, and started to reach for your waist, you jabbed the fastest, fattest, fuck-your-whole-family middle finger in his face and took off.

“Honey—”

“Don’t.”

“But I—”

“Have some goddamn fucking nerve.”

You’d nearly made it to the staircase again, heels turning to start down the first steps, when Joel sidestepped at lightning speed and blocked off your passage. All you saw then was the front of a starch white dress shirt and a light patch of chest hair peeking out from the highest button, crowding your vision, moving in time with every manoeuvre you tried to make around him. He smelled like sweat and fresh citrus. Perhaps a hint of vengeance.

You wouldn’t meet his gaze when he grabbed your face. Tried to shrug him off when he made as if to pull you into a hug—‘Are you off your shit?! Are you?! People are right downstairs’—and Joel just smiled. Grinned like a jackass eating briars, about five times too smug for his own good, and drew you into his chest by gentle turns.

You weren’t sure why you recoiled when he kissed you.

Hell, you’d done it a dozen times before—albeit a bit more frantically, in a way to say ‘I need to fuck you’ when words just wouldn’t suffice—but this one was different. Deeper. Joel was gripping both sides of your face and still grinning as he kissed you, feeling your muscles slacken some and your frame meld gently into his.

You hated it.

“I missed you,” Joel murmured between kisses.

Hated him.

“How’s my baby been, huh?”

Oh, you know, just waiting. Hating you a little. Hoping we didn’t inadvertently create a baby ourselves, courtesy of your prehistoric condoms.

“I missed you.” Gently. Again.

You tensed in his hold when his lips trailed down to your neck. You felt a low flutter. It was like your feet had been glued to the floor and your tongue left wholly immobile; you let Joel caress, kiss, and whisper down your skin like every cell beneath his touch wasn’t seething en masse.

Your stolen climax. Broken condom. Close call with your father and Tommy. Radio silence ongoing for days.

You couldn’t wrap your head around any of it, or him, or how grossly inconsistent the man’s every move upon you now seemed to be with the way he’d acted all week.

Joel slowly descended your body.

“Like I said, honey…you fuck with my head,” he said soft against your dress, then your legs, then the space in between them.

“Makes two of us,” you grumbled back.

You braced your weight against the railing over the stairs just behind you when he slipped your panties to the floor. Then he tucked them snug into one of his back pockets and brought his face to your wet, aching core.

“Discipline doesn’t come easy, does it?” It sounded like something trapped between a question and a declarative coming out from the side of Joel’s mouth.

Fortunately for you, he didn’t try to clarify which of the two he meant, or do much else at all except eat your pussy from that point on. He kissed your thighs, gripped them tighter, then wedged his face between them while you held fast to the metal behind you. You stifled a moan when his tongue traced over the seam of your cunt.

You didn’t have to like the man to love what his mouth could do for you, you silently reminded yourself.

Love it you could—and would. Without shame.

Granted, you were still sensitive as all hell from your last almost-orgasm of the night, but Joel knew how to work his lips and tongue around it. He swiftly lapped between your folds, teased a finger at your hole, and wrapped his warm lips around your clit to suck once or twice, and you were damn near ready to spiral in seconds. You fisted the soft salt-and-pepper hair at the top of his head and rutted your hips in short, shallow motions against him.

“Good girl,” Joel crooned, welcoming each thrust with another swirl of his tongue, “That’s my sweet baby.”

“Joel.”

You traded expletives for the simple repetition of his name, not wanting the pleasure to stop. Joel hummed and sucked and held your legs around him even tighter.

You sighed, almost whined, and dug your fingertips into his scalp, feeling your climax building quick inside you.

Joel’s mouth was working faster, sucking harder, drawing smaller and crueler circles, lapping eagerly against your arousal and giving it everything he had, it seemed, to work you up to your release. He grunted when you yanked hard on his hair but didn’t stop.

In fact, the bastard just kept trying to talk you through it, fluid movements of his own tongue and lips be damned.

“Doin’ so damn good for me, sweet pea, keep goin’.” There was an apology in there somewhere, working hard to atone for the orgasm he’d denied you right before.

Four more flicks of his tongue and a gentle endeavor to pump his fingers in and out, again and again, right above that soft, spongy pad of pleasure deep inside had you teetering over the edge of a cliff.

You tore your gaze from Joel for a second, preparing for that sweet and lusty consummation, when your head turned to the side just slightly. You almost groaned.

Your own hot, flushed, and fucked-out reflection was the first thing to greet you in a sliver of a mirror on the wall. Just beneath you, as you could’ve expected, there was Joel—kneeling between your legs with his chin tipped up, beard coated in moisture and pleasure and warmth. You weren’t sure why the sight from this angle had such a strong effect, but something about the full view of your bodies in motion gave your stomach a pinch. A burn. You ogled the glass and made a sound audibly higher in pitch than a whimper as Joel suckled and tongued at your clit.

You came just like that—gripping the rails, fisting his hair, rutting your hips, and staring implacably at that mirror.

When Joel resurfaced, you were still fully transfixed.

Gawking at how fucking nice he looked between your thighs. How filthy it all was to be seated on his face and cumming for his tongue while the rest of your father’s dinner party mingled blissfully unaware downstairs.

When you saw Joel rise, you jerked your head back.

You weren’t sure why it felt like being caught, but it did.

Just as you began to murmur some half-assed apology his way, you felt hands on your hips and a rock-hard bulge at your rear as Joel spun you round in front of him.

He shoved you flush against the mirror so your tits were pressed up to the glass. He gave you a quick once-over.

Slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders and shimmied the fabric down your chest, once again.

With your breasts splayed out in front of you and your hands pressing hard on the mirror—as if letting up the slightest bit might send you straight through it—you tried to crane your neck. You felt the sticky squelch of cum and fresh spit painted over your chest, muddying up the glass with every movement you made. Your chin dug deep in your shoulder as you cocked your head to the left, eyes searching for Joel’s behind you.

You heard the clink of a belt, followed by a rustle of fabric. Then a hand slamming close beside your head on the mirror, while another worked industriously to free his cock from the confines of his trousers once more.

“Joel,” you breathed, still tender from your climax.

“Hm?”

He was gruff as he rubbed and smacked your bare ass with his cock. Let it rest on the soft, fleshy shelf between you two and teased his length over that space.

“Did someone take his little blue pill today?” you teased.

“Fuck off.” You saw a flicker of a smirk in the mirror.

No way Joel Miller was getting a full-fledged erection twice in the same ten minute span. That shit didn’t happen outside the realm of porn flicks and a woman’s wildest fantasies when it came to men Joel’s age. He knew it just as well as you but tried to feign indifference when he pressed the head of himself to your folds. He did, however, suck in a breath at the new sensation.

He could do this.

He could cockwarm you raw, tonguefuck your cunt, ravage and render you all but brainless on the surface of that mirror, and still have the wits about himself to take another breath. He could show those shit-for-brains college boys he’d been battling for days in the depths of his mind how much better he could fuck you than them.

Really, Joel was just manifesting at this point.

He hadn’t busted a nut and fucked this quick since Bill Clinton had been in office. All hat and no cattle whatsoever for this pussywhipped cowboy.

“Better hope I go easy on ya, sugar.”

“Best believe I won’t.” You would’ve winked if you weren’t so bone-crushingly aroused and fresh off your peak.

Joel had just chuckled, more than a touch nervous, and began rubbing your warmth to coat himself in it—angling his slightly apprehensive penis up to your cunt when you straightened some. Rather than keep your tits to the mirror, you chose to press your back against him, ass snug to his front and eyes roaming wildly over the reflection of your two forms. Both of you flinched when the head of his cock hitched around your entrance.

Joel’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat just over your shoulder. He pressed a kiss to your skin.

“Gotta be the sweetest thing I ever seen,” he whispered into your ear. Meeting your gaze in the mirror and lifting his hips just so before breaching your folds.

He hoped you’d take it for sweetness and not just a vicious strain of anxiety or weakness as he prepared for the first thrust. He’d need a second, a minute—maybe a goddamned hour, if he was being real honest. You were too damn pretty to be fucked by a two-pump chump.

Joel nudged his nose against your ear and tried to stall. Pausing a beat.

“Never been humped and dumped before, yaknow.”

Wait—the fuck?

That came out wrong.

You cocked a brow and tilted your hips. You didn’t seem keen on talking but had no choice but to humor him.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” you hummed.

Joel balked at his own stupidity, trying, and failing, to remove his foot from his mouth and remedy his words.

“I mean, I— I get it,” he returned, too fast for his liking, “I’m no texter myself, I just…thought, uh, maybe—”

“Miller. Spit it out.”

Your body was all but leaking arousal before him and the man was trying to divert the conversation to…phones?

Joel winced.

Felt his member deflate with embarrassment just a bit.

NO! No. No. Just…fuck. Stay hard. Please, stay hard.

He’d done it to himself. Tried to hamper sex for a second too long just to give his dick a fighting chance at survival and ended up mucking things up supremely. Per usual.

“You never texted me back.” He sounded blunt now. Rushed.

Joel watched you raise both eyebrows.

“Texted you back?” you scoffed.

“Yeah…texted, called, snipchatted, whatever.”

Your face didn’t change despite the glaring Gen X error.

“You never texted me, Joel!”

What?

Suddenly, the dick wedged between your legs and hovering over your cunt seemed to be the last thing either of you could be bothered to worry about.

“I’ve…been texting you all week. Called a few times too.”

“Like hell you have. You ghosted me and went off the grid this whole fuckin’ week—Tommy said so, too.”

Joel cringed again to hear his brother’s name brought up in this context and shook his head. You were wrong.

“512-867-5309. Been trying to talk to you all goddamn week, see how you were, and you never responded,” he said, indignation creeping into his tone against his will.

At last, your expression dropped.

From furious to frowning to just fucking annoyed. Your lips were drawn tight in a line across your face.

“My number is 512-867-5305, dipshit.”

“Huh?”

“5 at the end, not a 9.”

“…No.”

“Yeah…”

Shit.

Joel Miller had made his fair share of flubs in his life, but fucking up the phone number of his best friend’s daughter whose pussy he’d accidentally cum inside the week before seemed almost criminal. Too fucking asinine and rookie-level dense to ever recover from. He blinked.

“Thought you…hated my fuckin’ guts,” he confessed.

You threw your hands up in disbelief, frustration. Fury.

“I do— believe me, I do,” you snapped, “But not for that.”

‘That’ meaning the last time you two bumped uglies. Joel wasn’t sure whether to take heart or step back.

“What’s’at mean?” he asked.

You pushed your feet a little further apart on the floor and pressed back into Joel. He took that as a decidedly good sign and reached for your hip. Then took his cock, again, which had invariably twitched and swelled up at the smallest motion from you.

“Means we’ve got plenty of reasons to hate each other, but fuckin’ ain’t one of ‘em,” you shrugged, angling your ass in the perfect place for penetration. Joel was just about back to full-mast and buzzing as you spoke, “I can get over the whole…old dude taboo—you being dad’s friend and all—I just couldn't stand the thought of you leaving me in the lurch when shit got weird at the end.”

‘Weird’ meaning risky. Virulent. Damn near catastrophic if it ever came to be that one of Joel's swimmers had latched onto one of your eggs and knocked you up. The fear of pregnancy, and every bloodcurdling, awkward conversation to ensue, had been amplified tenfold by the thought that Joel didn't even care one way or the other and couldn't be bothered to text, call, or otherwise show that he didn't totally regret what you'd done in his car. You could handle a clean break, but leaving it on such uncertain terms had been torture. At length, you sighed.

Joel was nosing behind your ear now, a bit less tense.

A little more laid-back and warm this time around, as he, like you, had gotten to exhale a breath of relief realizing that neither of you had deliberately tried to fuck the other over, or ghost, just yet. You'd been pissed at him all night, and he'd been busy barraging a perfect stranger somewhere in Austin with strings of texts and calls all week, but the two of you were ultimately OK. For now.

“But you still hate me, huh?” Joel spoke low against your skin and felt you soften just a little.

You nodded, careful not to slacken too much.

“Mhmm.”

Now Joel was almost glad to have taken that brief, heated detour, because his dick had made a complete comeback and was aching to tease you some more. He grabbed the base of his length and slotted it slow as ever between your folds. Rolled his hips forward and pushed you both a little closer to the mirror. One of your hands flew up to steady yourself, and Joel’s hand followed. He laid his palm over the back of yours and pressed in.

“It’d be a real shame if you do,” he said, smirking as he notched the tip of his cock just within the tight ring of muscles at the groove of your cunt, “For a second there I was starting to think you might’ve liked fucking me, too.”

In the next second, Joel was easing inside you. Feeling you arch into the motion and grabbing hold wherever he could across your front, he pulled you into his chest and felt a streak of coarse pleasure lick up the full length of his spine. Your walls were squeezing him in a brand new way, a novel position, and he was starting to fear there wasn't any place he could fuck you that wouldn't send him veering for release within his first two strokes inside.

He bucked his hips a little something like an amateur, he thought, getting used to taking you like this. You were moaning, holding his fingers between your own atop the mirror as you squeezed your pussy tight around his cock, and he hoped that meant you hadn't minded the few stuttered, desperate strokes he'd delivered at first.

“I love…fucking you, Joel,” you seethed at last.

Then, wordless as it was pointed, finding his gaze in your reflection, ‘I still hate you, Miller. There’s a difference.’

He slammed into your ass and quickly got the sense that you liked it this fast—loving, lusting, or despising him otherwise. Almost needed it a bit frantic and rapid-fire when he was fucking you from the back, he reckoned.

Joel looked you in the eye from his view behind you in the mirror and saw it clear as day. He almost grinned.

You were wildly fucked out and in need of quick release.

For once in his life, he could oblige you on that, easy.

He slid his cock in and out, rutting much quicker than he ever thought you’d want it, and he grunted. Slipped a hand between your thighs and felt you pulse around him, involuntarily, when his fingers found your clit. He could tell by that grip, and those febrile little whimpers, that you were loving this just as much as him and probably were as close, if not closer, to a new, shuddering climax.

Joel plunged deep inside your cunt and drew you closer.

Taking your throat in one hand, he nudged your body into the glass and smirked, drunk with the feel of you.

“Ya like it when I fill this pussy, huh? Love feeling me deep inside this needy little hole?” he murmured, slow and taking care to draw out the syllables in each word.

You nodded that you did. Rocked your hips back to meet his thrusts and moaned.

“I love it, daddy,” you managed weakly, “Love it so much.”

The fingers at your clit increased in speed, and Joel rutted into you even harder, relishing the soft squelch between your bodies as he moved. Then he reached for a fistful of your hair and, instead of pulling back like he might normally have done, he pushed in. He pressed your face in the mirror, turned to the side, and pistoned his hips even faster. Felt your moans spill out across the glass and mix with his own, and he couldn’t help but let a raw, primal impulse take over his thrusts—and tongue.

“You make the prettiest fuckin’ noises, y’know that?” Joel breathed, hunched over and close to your ear.

Before you could so much as acknowledge his praises, bob your head, or moan in response, he shifted the hand in your hair again. This time turning your face toward the mirror, he brought your lips within inches of the glass and made you watch him fuck you, again and again.

You trailed your gaze over your full reflection and almost whined out loud, ripe with desire and ready to cum just seeing how good he looked as he took you from behind.

With his brow furrowed, pupils blown, hair a fucking mess, lips parting slightly with the strain of every grunt and moan, and hips rolling repeatedly, furiously into your own, Joel looked about as handsome as you thought you’d ever seen him. You felt the soft nudge of his tummy behind you, the tightened grip on your hip and in your hair, and within seconds, you were nearly there.

“My pretty. fuckin’. girl—” Joel managed through gritted teeth, each word punctuated with a thrust, “—and her pretty. fuckin’. moans.” Then, bringing his beaming, sweaty expression right next to yours in the mirror, “Ready to cum for me, pretty girl?”

You curled your toes into the floor and nodded, slotting your fingers through his own when he planted a hand above you again,

“So— so close, daddy.”

Joel squeezed your fingers back. Kept your faces damn near side-by-side in the mirror and relished the marked change in your features when he grazed that spot inside. You let out the filthiest, fuckdrunk moan and didn’t need another stroke—you came around his cock with a tight, pulsing spasm, seizing his hand, rocking your hips back into his hard as the pleasure washed over your body.

Joel’s cock absorbed every last delicate throb, hot and heavy enough to send the man spiraling himself. He braced his front tight against your body and kept fucking you through your release, groaning a vicious, desperate bout when he felt that deep-seated urge to spill his seed.

Fuck. He’d have to pull out. Now.

Just as his own climax was close at hand—close as he could ever, or should ever feel it while still inside you—Joel reached down for your hip to pull out and cum all over your ass, but he was brought to a stop. Swiftly.

To his surprise, it was you pulling off of him—sliding off his cock and dropping to your knees as if to take him in your mouth.

Thank fuck.

Joel grabbed his dick as quick as he possibly could and moved to start stroking himself over your face, when your hand closed around his own. Stopping him. Again.

You grinned.

Feeling the slightest twinge of retributive pleasure at seeing him like this, just like he’d had you, your smile stretched even bigger. Joel could’ve wept at the sight.

You brought your lips to his cock and grazed it, barely.

“Wanna try something fun?”

He knew better than to let a moan slip at a time like this.

Not when he was sitting at the dinner table; not when he was surrounded by the people he knew and loved the most. Not when he was celebrating his best friend’s fifty-first birthday, and certainly not when that man’s daughter was currently perched between his thighs, out of sight from every eye at the party but his.

Joel lifted the tablecloth. He almost came on the spot.

This was your idea of ‘fun.’

Payback by any other name would’ve smelled as sweet.

Seeing your mouth open wide and your lips curled tight around his hot, throbbing member, Joel couldn’t help but ache for reprieve, or else a split-second lapse of judgment—one where he forgot all sense of decorum and simply went to town on that pretty little face of yours. But, as it was, the rest of the party was totally oblivious to your absence, and he didn’t want to draw attention to it, or him, by roughfucking your mouth.

That would come later.

No, now he would let you glide your mouth gently over his shaft, leaving trails of thick spit and hints of a shiny pink lip gloss in its wake. He’d let you bob your head softly—self-assured in a pace you got to set—and he wouldn’t lay a finger on your face or let a thrust of his get in the way, because this was all about you giving him the pleasure. Maybe making him squirm just a little, too.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t steal a glimpse every now and then and pin you with an expectant look when he wanted something done his way. The room was dimly lit and everyone in it drunk; Joel would gladly take the risk.

‘You can go deeper than that, sweet pea.’

‘Nope, three-fourths ain’t enough, I need your mouth around me whole.’

‘You did wanna make daddy feel good, didn’t ya, sugar?’

He didn’t have to speak a word of it out loud for you to know what he meant. What he needed. You loosened your jaw and stretched your lips even wider, whining just a little when the head of his cock grazed your tonsils.

“Fuck that feels nice,” Joel said aloud.

You froze.

Then, without missing a beat, you heard him continue just as comfortably, speaking to the people around him,

“Y’all feel that breeze comin’ in?”

Sick fuck. You continued to suck him anyway.

One hand braced tight against Joel’s leg and the other moved shamelessly between your own, and you tried not to moan, but the sound escaped anyway. No one heard it, but Joel felt it reverberate down his shaft, and he gripped his glass of Merlot like a vice. Your dad shot him a curious look from across the table but said nothing.

“Can’t get enough’a her, huh?” Tommy grinned beside him.

“What?” Joel faltered. Set his drink aside carefully.

Down below, you dragged your mouth just far enough to take his tip between your lips and suckle. Joel grunted.

“The wine,” Tommy said, still smiling, “You must love it.”

Joel let out another strangled breath that he tried to pass off as a chuckle and nodded.

“Got me on my fuckin’ knees,” he admitted.

And that was the truth. Starved for air and blinking through tears as you knelt down to blow him, it was still you with the chokehold on Joel, and both of you knew it.

Try as you might to convince yourselves otherwise, the man was enrapt. Too spellbound to turn down your offer of sucking him dry under the dinner table just minutes after he’d almost cum all over your face, Joel was in it, and he was in it deep. It was just that small matter of you being his best friend’s daughter that made him loath to admit it. At any rate, he had your tongue licking strips up his cock and felt a sudden, sharp clench in his stomach.

He knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Neither would you.

Joel couldn’t see it then, but you’d practically soaked your own hand from how hard you’d been rubbing your clit—ignoring his orders not to touch yourself there—so turned on from just sucking his dick and needing to feel relief while you selflessly, secretly pleased him beneath the table. While Joel reached for another draught of wine, you brought one hand to his balls and kept the other at your cunt, triple-tasking like the efficient little slut he needed you to be: sucking, cupping, and rubbing all at once to get the two of you off in one minute or less.

You guided him down to the furthest place in your throat, then pushed him even deeper. You gagged just slightly and felt a hand reach down for your cheek. A thumb began to rub at the tears welled up at the corners of your eyes.

‘Sweet thing hasn’t felt a man this deep before, huh? Wanna swallow some more?’

You nodded that you did. Couldn’t actually hear him now, or see much else besides the soft tufts of hair on his belly, but you could feel a light, heady warmth seep into your brain.

You rutted your hips and just hoped no one dropped a fork nearby. Bucked desperately into your hand and felt the heat start to swell to a whole new feeling, and suddenly you were whimpering, whining on Joel’s cock from under the shade of the table and cumming all over your fingers.

Joel returned a quick smile from your father and cracked a joke about the Super Bowl. Raised his hips just the slightest bit and wiped one of your tear-soaked cheeks.

‘Almost there, hon, keep that throat open for daddy.’

All you could do was cry and try your best. Wild feelings from both the slow, deep facefuck he was giving you and the flurry of euphoric aftershocks coursing all throughout your body made it almost impossible to bear, but you obeyed your sweet and strong and steady-handed Joel and sensed a blossoming desire crop up for something else.

You wanted to taste him as he blew his load in your mouth, flooded your tongue with his spend, and painted every inch of your insides with that hot, sticky stuff.

You needed him whole.

Your Joel.

In tune with your thoughts—or perhaps just overcome with a need to see you before he reached his peak—Joel raised the tablecloth the slightest bit when Tommy wasn’t looking. His gaze locked on yours, and his tongue darted quick between his lips. He cocked a brow. Brushed his thumb again and looked down as if to say,

‘Ya want this, darlin’? Want all of me?’

You gave a soft nod, and that was all he needed.

No sooner had you given him the green light than his cum went pulsing out in ropes, coating your throat and eventually your whole mouth as you held still and took it all.

There was so much more than you thought. So much of Joel that had been waiting to give your mouth a proper fucking glaze that once he’d started he just couldn’t stop. Above the table, your dad shot a pointed look in his direction—‘You good, man?’—and it took every ounce of strength in Joel’s body to grit his teeth tight and nod.

He’d filled so much of your mouth it was spilling out.

You tried to hold steady, keep your movements extra slow. You’d heard your dad’s voice and just knew there’d be a lot more on the line than Joel’s dribbling seed if either one of you fucked up now. Your breath caught in your chest, and you felt too afraid to even swallow.

“I just…came,” Joel started, and your head almost cracked on the wood surface from how abruptly you flinched back,

“—to the realization—”

“—that you…are so…motherfuckin’ old, my friend.”

Your father’s laugh was the first you heard, followed by Tommy, his friends, and a dozen other party guests.

The next thing you felt, to your complete and utter shock, was Joel’s cock brushing your cheek. Then your lips. Then your tongue. He slid his still-hard member through the ‘o’ your mouth had made in awe and started to move in gentle motions back and forth, like a man all but aching to get a feel for your wet, sodden walls.

A man who couldn’t risk a glimpse now, but wanted more than anything to see the mouth he’d just filled.

Your father’s words hadn’t even cooled in the air.

Joel Miller, you sneaky, freaky fuck.

As the laughter subsided, and Tommy scooted back in his chair to take leave of your table, you felt a spark ignite. Whether it was yours or Joel’s or both your perverted minds suddenly alight and insane with the same thought, you couldn’t be sure, but you could make out the sound of a tablecloth flipping back up above you.

Joel slipped his dick out of your mouth and grinned. Took a firm hold of your face under the table so his fingers were coaxing your jaw to unhinge before him.

It was the lowest, slowest, menacing sort of sound you’d ever heard from him before, but it was his all the same.

Speaking to you now, softly, “Show daddy, darlin’.”

You thought you might like to see him that way forever.

Eyes honey-soft and glazed, thumb toying at your lip. Chest heaving up and down in time to your own breaths and growing ragged as you opened your mouth to him. He was sated and somehow unfulfilled—a bottomless pit of raw prurience as he stared down and held your gaze. Hair tousled, pants unbuckled, cock resting comfortably against your cheek, the man looked wonderfully undone and half in love with your sweet face peering up at him.

You couldn’t deny you loved doing this, too.

You’d just wished he saw Tommy before Tommy saw you.

[onlymingyus]

Somebody [SVTHUB world tour collab]

pairing; choi seungcheol x f!reader

genre; smut (minor dni), fluff, angst, romance, fake dating au

summary; When you need someone to help you out of a bind quickly, you pick the first person you see to be your “boyfriend”, you just didn’t expect it to be your single hot dad neighbor, Choi Seungcheol…

content warnings; single father!seungcheol, teacher!reader, seungcheol has a child (obviously), eating/drinking, jeonghan/joshua (implied relationship but not stated), betting metioned, alcohol, medical field - doctor!seungcheol, doctor!joshua, mentions cheating in past relationship, mentions death/accident of spouse - widow!seungcheol --- i am sure there are more, if there is anything important you want me to add let me know

smut warnings; unprotected sex (birth control mentioned), creampie, fingering, oral (f receiving), begging, crying (pleasure), multiple orgasm, lots of pet names, marriage kink, seungcheol carries the reader and is larger than the reader, manhandling, shower sex...again if I miss something let me know.

w/c; 25.2k and some change (623 extra words for patreon bonus)

svthub world tour masterlist

a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading for me once again, i love you so so much. i really hope you guys enjoy my little addition to the svthub world tour and those on tumblr will join me in Barcelona for the bonus 💕

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

You were exhausted. You had been living in your new apartment complex for around three months, yet you still weren’t completely unpacked. Between work and just a general unwillingness to complete a single project that had to do with your personal life, it seemed easier to let the boxes sit where they lay until they became an inconvenience. Today, they were an inconvenience. 

So now you find yourself having worked a full eight hour work day and you still managed to unpack four of the daunting boxes, and you were feeling pretty good about yourself. At least you were until you made your way down to the parking lot to put the boxes into the recycling bin and heard an unwelcome voice. 

“Y/N… hey.” 

Your ex-boyfriend’s voice made any strength you had in your arms leave as you attempted to push the boxes into the large blue bin. He didn’t live in your complex. In fact, you had moved out of your shared apartment with him, which was at least a 20 minute drive away. It should surprise you that he would show up uninvited and unannounced, but after a five year relationship with him, you knew he was persistent. 

Wiping your hands off on your jeans, you clear your throat and turn to meet the man’s eyes before looking for how you were going to get out of the situation. You weren’t afraid of your ex; it was more that he didn’t know when to stop. You had told him time and time again, after a very messy breakup where you had caught him cheating, that you wouldn’t take him back. It didn’t make it any easier that you had the same profession as him and when things had been great, the two of you had applied at the same place. 

“Alex… wild seeing you here. You don’t even live here.” 

He knew you were being evasive. You did the same thing at work, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t still try. Persistence was key. There had been something there between the two of you that made a relationship last for as long as it did, and if he worked hard enough, he could get it back. At least that’s what he thought. 

Sighing, Alex watches you turn away from him, heading back towards the building. Following behind you, he groans when you shoot him a dirty look. 

“Babe, seriously? I’m looking at the apartments in the area. I thought I’d just stop by and say hi.” 

Rolling your eyes, you use your body to shield the keypad so you can type in the code to unlock the complex’s door, hearing the code get denied, once and then twice. You were flustered and hitting the wrong buttons. 

“Sure, whatever. You have a perfectly fine apartment, and don’t call me babe. I’m not your babe.” 

When you can’t seem to get into the building, Alex sighs again, reaching out to try to comfort you, but he only manages to make you uncomfortable as he grabs your arm, telling you to calm down. You look to the door surprised to see it opening, a larger man furrowing his brows at the sight in front of him before you give him a relieved and pleading look. 

"Oh, thank God, hi honey. Alex, have you met my boyfriend?” 

Tilting his head in confusion, Seungcheol looks between you and the man holding your arm before he sees the desperation on your face. You were in some sort of distress. He knew you lived in the building; in fact, you were his neighbor, though he hadn’t had much of a chance to speak to you yet. Seungcheol knew he could say he didn’t know you, go on his way, staying out of your business, but something about you and what was happening told him he needed to play along. Extending his hand towards the one around your arm, Seungcheol gives the man a tight warning smile. 

“Hey man, I’m Seungcheol.” 

You feel Alex’s hand slide from your arm, his brows furrowing at the new information. Watching the two men, you feel your heart in your throat as they shake hands and the man named Seungcheol moves closer to you with a smile, looking at you expectantly.

“It was great to meet you Alex, but uh...” Clearing his throat, Seungcheol tries to think about how to get you out of this without making you uncomfortable. Shrugging, he sighs and just goes for it. “I was just coming to see why you had been gone for so long. Dinner is ready.” 

Your cheeks burn as Alex stares at you, his eyes narrowing. You can tell he is almost looking for holes in your and Seungcheol’s story, but when you smile and Seungcheol puts his arm around your shoulders, Alex rolls his eyes. You weren’t sure if he actually bought the entire story on the spot, but it had been enough to get him to put his hands in his pockets and for him to back up, muttering. 

“I’ll see you at work, Y/N.” 

Offering your ex a strained smile, you lean into Seungcheol until Alex is out of sight. Taking a deep breath, you feel the pressure of being around him lift off of you before you glance up at Seungcheol and give him an apologetic look. Moving his arm, Seungcheol chuckles and shakes his head, turning back towards the door and using his keyfob to open it for you, letting you slip by him. 

“Uh…thank you. Seriously. I’m so fucking sorry to drag you into that.” 

Leaning against the metal doorframe, Seungcheol just smiles and shrugs. His eyes stay on yours as you walk backwards for a few steps towards the elevator. 

“My pleasure, honey. Have a good evening.” 

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips when the handsome man teases you. Backing into the elevator door, you laugh and shake your head, turning to press the button before glancing back to look at Seungcheol, still watching you for a moment before he waves and lets the door shut, leaving you alone. 

Finally, in the elevator, you can take a breath as you lean against the wall. With each soft ding of the elevator as it climbs the floors, you chew at your lips and laugh under your breath at how the exchange between you and Seungcheol has ended. It was silly for you to feel so smitten by someone who had just helped you out of a hard situation, but god had he been attractive. 

Walking towards your apartment, you sigh, taking your key out of your pocket as you glance to the door next to yours. Your brows furrow as you remember the first few days when you had moved into the apartment complex and you had met your neighbor in passing. He had been nice, asked you if you needed any help, but most of all, he had been attractive. Feeling your heart sink into your stomach, you picture the face of the man who had asked if you needed help moving boxes and it’s the same face that had pretended to be your boyfriend. 

“Sara!” 

Jutting your hip to the side, you barely manage to let one of your students run by you as he heads straight for a friend. Smiling at the interaction, you don’t notice the boy's father trailing behind him, a small backpack in his hands. 

“Matthew… You need to apologize to your teacher. I know you are excited, but still watch where you are going.” 

Shaking your head, you start to turn around towards the somewhat familiar voice when the small boy pouts up at you. He is so cute that you can’t stop yourself from squatting down to his level to smile at him and adjust his small tie on his uniform. 

“‘M sorry, teacher. I haven’t seen Sara all summer. Daddy wouldn’t let me stay at her house because I’m a boy.” 

You find yourself nodding along with his words, sympathizing with him until you can’t help the small laugh that slips from your lips. 

“It’s okay, Matthew. There will be plenty of time to play with Sara at school. Cut your daddy some slack, okay?” 

Ushering him along, you watch him for a moment longer, half turning towards the boy's father but still not quite looking at him. You have a habit of watching your students more than you do their parents, it would only take a second for a five year old to find trouble. 

“Don’t worry about Matthew. No harm done.” 

Seungcheol grins at you as you watch the kids so diligently. He had no idea that you were his son’s teacher; this was a happy surprise, or perhaps an awkward one. He hadn’t really made up his mind yet. It isn’t until you finally glance at him and your mouth falls open in confusion that Seungcheol presses his lips together and winces at your reaction. 

“Didn’t know your boyfriend had a kid, huh? Is that a deal breaker?” 

You can feel your cheeks burning at Seungcheol’s joke, but your eyes quickly move over him before you give yourself something else to do by reaching for Matthew’s bag. It was better if you kept yourself busy and just did your job. Laughing a bit awkwardly, you meet Seungcheol’s eyes and bite at your lip out of nerves as he lets you take the bag and you move to the small wooden cubbies to find Matthew’s name. 

“Uh… I will be honest, I didn’t. I’m sorry again, by the way. Even more so now. I swear to you, I’m not a complete mess; I’m a good teacher.” 

Shaking his head, Seungcheol finds himself frowning when you seem to find the need to explain yourself and defend your position. He hadn’t meant to cause that reaction. 

“I—no… I’m sure you are. I’ve heard nothing but great things about you leading up to today. I apologize… that was rude of me. I was just trying to make a joke. Break the tension.” 

Feeling a pang of guilt at your reaction as Seungcheol frowns, you take a deep breath and shake your head. You didn’t want him to feel bad. It just wasn’t the most ideal situation to find yourself in with a parent. Running your fingers over your hair, you press your lips together and scrunch up your nose, drawing Seungcheol’s attention to it. He smiles, finding the expression on your face cute. You were cute. 

“No, no, I know. I’m sorry. I’ve only been here a couple years and this is my first year without working in someone else's classroom. I just don’t wanna mess up.” 

Seungcheol nodded, understanding the feeling—perhaps not in the same profession, but he had been there in his own way. Gesturing towards the kids, Matthew in particular, as your eyes once again move over the kids, more of them making their way in, he shrugs as he speaks. 

“With how you have been watching them... I don’t think we have a single thing to worry about.” 

He finds himself wanting to stay, if not just to talk to you but also to Matthew. It was his first day of big boy school, and even if Matthew looked like he was doing just fine with the adjustment, Seungcheol couldn’t say the same for himself. One glance at his wrist, seeing how much time he had spent standing in the classroom, however, makes Seungcheol sigh and run his fingers through his brown hair. 

“I gotta go. I should get out of the way anyway. Matthew…” 

Hearing his name, the small boy perks up and looks towards his dad with a grin before making his way over. Ruffling his hair, Seungcheol practically pouts, making your heart feel heavy. This part was hard, even for you. You didn’t have children of your own, but the sentiment was still there when you watched loving parents leave their children for the day. 

“I love you. Please be good. Learn somethin’?” 

Giggling, Matthew leans into his dad’s touch and rocks on the balls of his feet as you take a step away to give them a moment to themselves. 

“Love you too. I’m so smart, Daddy. Teacher will be suppised!” 

Rolling his eyes at how cocky his son sounds, Seungcheol groans under his breath and looks at his watch again. 

“Yeah, alright, it's 'surprised’ and stay away from Uncle Jeonghan. Learn some humility.” 

“I don’t know what that means, Daddy.” 

Your small laugh draws Seungcheol’s attention and makes him grin as he ushers Matthew towards you. 

“I bet Miss Y/N knows and she will let me know if you’ve put it into practice when I pick you up after school.” 

Winking at you, Seungcheol turns to head out the door, glancing over his shoulder to wave at you as he goes. Looking down at the small boy with an expectant look in his eye, you bite at your lip and try to think about how you are going to explain humility and modesty to a five year old on a Monday morning. 

“That’s so good!” 

You clap as you watch a few of your kids preen with pride after counting to ten. They had been working hard after recess and a snack. It had been a good first day and you were proud of each and every one of them, even if you couldn’t help how your eye kept going to Matthew. He was so cute—not that all the kids in your class weren’t; there was just something about his gummy smile that reminded you so much of his dad. 

Looking up at the clock as the bell rings, you quickly look back at the kids, who mostly look confused until the door opens and parents start to file in. 

“Hey! Everybody… I know you want to see your parents, but let’s remember to grab our bags. Cubbies first, please!” 

You watch as most of the kids listen to you, moving in small lines to the wooden cubbies to grab their jackets and bags before finding their parents and heading out the door. Bending to pick up a few toys, you furrow your brows when you hear your name. It’s said by a small, familiar voice—Matthew, who pouts at you when you finally meet his eyes. He looks around, seeing most of the room clearing out, but his dad is nowhere to be found. 

“Hey, what’s up? Maybe your daddy is running late. Maybe mommy is coming?” 

Shaking his head, Matthew gives you a confused look as he tugs at the bag on his shoulder. 

“I don’t have a mommy. Can you call my daddy?” 

Feeling a pang of guilt at mentioning his mother, you squat down to Matthew’s level so he doesn’t have to tilt his head back to look up at you anymore. You knew you could call Seungcheol if you needed to, but school had just ended. Maybe you could give him a few more minutes. Reaching for Matthew’s bag, you sigh and offer the boy a smile, watching him match it with that cute gummy grin. 

“How about we give him a few more minutes and if he doesn’t come, we can call him? You can pick any book you want and I’ll read it to you.” 

The idea of choosing any book in the room is enough to make Matthew okay with your terms. Wiggling out of his bag, he goes to the shelf, looking over the book covers as you stand and put his bag on the table with your purse. Checking the clock, your brows furrow with a sigh. It wasn’t that late and you were sure this wouldn’t be the last child you would be waiting for. 

Cursing under his breath, Seungcheol looks at his watch as he speed walks through the school halls towards your classroom. He was over 30 minutes late and he was sure you were upset with him. He should have called but he was more concerned with trying to get to the school in one piece. 

Reaching the door, he starts to speak when he hears your soft voice and for some reason, it makes him stop in his tracks. He sees Matthew sitting in your lap as he rests back against your chest, a book in your hands. You smile as you read the book, trying to come up with a voice for each character, making his son laugh. Seungcheol almost feels bad for interrupting the moment, but then he feels bad again for leaving you here at work with Matthew for so long. 

“Y/N…”

Lifting your head, hearing your name, you smile at Seungcheol, feeling Matthew slip off your lap and run towards the door. You were definitely second best, but that was completely fair. Seungcheol holds the back of Matthew’s head as the boy wraps his arms around his legs and pouts up at him, asking him where he’s been. 

“I got caught up at work; I’m so so sorry. It won’t happen again.” 

Moving towards the table, you pick up Matthew’s bag as you shake your head. 

“It’s no problem. It happens. Maybe you could just text me to let me know if you are gonna be late?” 

Nodding, Seungcheol lets out a breath, lifting his hand to rub at the back of his neck. You were right. 

“No… yeah, absolutely. I’ll make it up—” 

“Oh! Hey… Seungcheol, right?” 

Your smile fades hearing Alex’s voice as you watch Seungcheol’s brows furrow in confusion. Moving quicker towards the door, to hand Seungcheol Matthew’s bag and get his attention, but his eyes move to your ex. 

“I—yeah… I gotta get Matthew home.” 

Looking towards you as if asking for an explanation, Seungcheol takes the bag from your hand while ushering his son out the door. You try to let him go, gesturing towards the hall, when Alex scoffs and gives him a once over muttering under his breath. 

“Seriously, Y/N? A parent...” 

Swallowing hard, you feel your chest tighten when Seungcheol stops in his tracks. You wouldn’t blame him if he told Alex it was all bullshit right there. It would be smart of you to do it, he wasn’t going to let it go either way. Starting to speak, you stop when Seungcheol is quicker, keeping his voice low as he smirks at Alex. 

“Is there a policy against that, Alex?” Glancing at you, Seungcheol reaches out to grab your hand, squeezing it lightly, winking at you before dropping it. “See you later, Y/N.” 

Your cheeks burn as you watch Seungcheol walk down the hall with Matthew. The young boy glancing back to smile at you curiously before looking up at his dad and saying something you can’t make out. Beside you, Alex’s jaw tightens as he watches you keep your eyes on the man leaving. What he wouldn’t give for you to look at him like that again. 

“There should be a policy against it…” 

Shooting him a look, you turn towards your classroom, your hand on the doorframe as you speak. 

"Well, there isn’t, Alex, but there is one about harassment. Leave me alone.” 

You watch his mouth open and close a couple of times as you close the door in his face, leaving you in peaceful silence to wrap your mind around what had just happened.

Wiping sweat from your brow, you glance around your living room at the boxes that had once been piled up in a corner. It had been difficult to tell if you were moving in or out, but as you broke down, one last box signified that you had officially settled in. It had only taken you months to do it, and for some reason this Saturday felt like the right moment; everything was feeling like home in this apartment for once. 

Grabbing as many of the boxes as you can, you let out a groan at how many trips you are going to have to take as you make your way to your front door and push it open with your shoulder. Cursing under your breath to the sound of your keys hitting the floor at your feet, you try to lean down without putting down the boxes when a hand brushes over your fingers, taking your keys from you. Before you are able to say anything, your eyes meet Seungcheol's, and your lips pull up into a shy smile. 

“Your hands seemed full.” 

Nodding as you take the keys and slip them into your back pocket, you don’t notice Seungcheol glancing into your apartment, seeing the pile of boxes. It isn’t until he clears his throat, gesturing inside, that you tilt your head curiously.

“Want me to help with the rest? I think we can get them all down to the bin in one go.” 

Your first instinct is to tell him no, that you don’t want to bother him, but there is a look in his eye that you don’t want to turn him away. So you step out into the hall and smile at Seungcheol instead. 

“I mean, if you are really offering.” 

Laughing, Seungcheol nods and slides past you, glancing around your apartment with a grin before he leans down to pick up the larger pile of boxes, heading back towards you. 

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N. I was hoping to talk to you today anyway.” 

Moving through the hall with Seungcheol at your side, you use your elbow to press the elevator button, your head once again tilting to the side, almost like a puppy hearing a new word as you listen to him speak. He wanted to talk to you. You try to think of the reason, but only one comes to mind.  

“Is it about Matthew?” 

Pursing his lips briefly, Seungcheol quickly smiles at your assumption and nods to cover up any doubt. You weren’t wrong in thinking he would want to talk about his son. You were his teacher, it was only fair that he would be the topic of normal conversation. 

“Mmm, he loves school. I think you are the main reason.” 

Shaking your head, you step off the elevator and head for the main doors out of the apartment building with Seungcheol in tow. When you stop to lean your boxes against the wall, opening the door for him, Seungcheol smiles at you as he moves through the door, only to stop and hold it open for you with his foot. 

“Thanks, but no... I think it’s his friends. He loves hanging out with Sara.” 

Seungcheol lets the door close behind you before trailing along at your side as he shakes his head. He knew how much his son liked his friends, but there was something different about Matthew since he had started school. 

“It’s more than that. He’s eager to get there. He can see Sara anytime, and that doesn't have to be at school. He wants to get to Miss Y/N’s class.” 

Feeling your cheeks heat up, your lips pull up into a smile that you are unable to hide even as you look down. It was one thing to be told you were good at your job; it was another to hear that a student wanted to go to school because of your class. It was everything a teacher wanted to hear. 

Watching Seungcheol push his boxes into the bin, you run your fingers along the underside of one of the boxes still in your hands. You weren’t sure if he even understood the gift he had given you while helping you with a mundane task that you had been dreading. Glancing down, you take a deep breath, hoping the butterflies in your stomach will calm down when Seungcheol’s voice brings you back to reality. 

“Here, let me put these in there too.” 

Meeting his eyes, you swallow hard, feeling his fingers glide over yours as Seungcheol takes the boxes from your hands. When you glance away with a small smile on your lips, he takes notice. Pushing the rest of the boxes into the bin, Seungcheol bites at his lip, trying to choose his words carefully, before he turns back to you and scratches at his brow. 

“Anything else to throw away? Is what’s his name lingering around? I can toss him in too.” 

Feeling your cheeks burn, you scoff into a laugh as Seungcheol moves back to your side. Walking in tandem towards the building, you glance up at him, shaking your head as he laughs, along with you leaning to knock your arm with his to let you know he is joking. 

“Alex… and thankfully he isn’t. God, I am so sorry about all of that. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved to begin with.” 

Shaking his head, Seungcheol purses his lips, watching you take your keys out to tap your fob against the reader, letting him open the door for you. 

“It’s not a big deal. You seemed really uncomfortable. I was happy to help… I mean, I still am. He strikes me as the type to not give up easily.” 

Scoffing once again, you follow Seungcheol to the elevator, leaning against the wall as you meet his eyes. That was an understatement. If he was able to tell from just a couple of meetings with your ex, that should say plenty about Alex’s character. You find yourself allowing your eyes to move over Seungcheol’s face, his handsome eyes, and his plump lips before you sigh and look down at your hands as the elevator steadily climbs the floors. 

“He’s not. He thinks that’s a redeeming quality.” Sighing into your words, you push off the wall as the doors open, stepping out into the hall as Seungcheol follows you. “But he’d be wrong. I couldn’t ask you to help me anymore. You’ve done so much.” 

Offering Seungcheol a smile, you walk backwards for a moment as he tilts his head, his own smile lifting at one side as his eyes move over you. You were so cute; he knew it was dangerous this game he was playing. He wanted to get close to you and he knew there were better ways, this had just been the one that had been presented to him. 

“You didn’t ask. I’m offering… Speaking of, you busy this evening?” 

Shaking your head, you slide your keys from your pocket as you watch Seungcheol lean against his door. You can’t help but notice the way your eyes once again move over him. He was possibly the most handsome man you had ever seen and also the most unattainable. You needed to remember who he was and the boundary that was set, even if it was blurred. 

“Mm, no. Why? Need some help with Matthew?” 

Seungcheol sighs into a laugh. It wasn’t unfair that you’d assume he wanted to ask you something involving his kid, but he just smiles as you look at him curiously, as if realizing for the first time that Matthew isn’t around. 

“Oh… no. He’s with my parents this weekend. I was gonna ask if you wanted to come over for dinner?” 

Your brows furrow at Seungcheol’s question. That boundary was getting even more blurred as you considered his question and he seemed to see you struggle before he laughed and bit his lips before speaking up again. 

“We can talk about how to pretend to be a good fake couple. You know, for appearances sake. Maybe get Alex to get a life.” 

While Seungcheol’s explanation wasn’t entirely convincing, you smiled and nodded. In truth, you didn’t want to turn down the dinner invitation. You didn’t want to tell Seungcheol no and that you didn’t want to spend more time with him, even if Matthew wasn’t involved. It was a dangerous line you were walking. 

“Great! Uh… around 6?” 

At 5:55 you were considering texting Seungcheol to tell him that you had suddenly come down with the flu. Your anxiety was causing your heart to rise into your throat as you tugged at your shirt, trying to make sure you looked decent. 

With your hand hovering over the door, you whine to yourself before knocking lightly at Seungcheol’s door and waiting. Maybe he would make it easier on you and just not answer the door, but then the idea of that makes you frown. You hate the idea of not being able to spend the evening with Seungcheol. Even the idea of something disrupting it causes disappointment to bubble in your stomach until the door opens and you are met with his handsome face and a gummy smile that matches your favorite one of Matthew’s. 

“Hey, you look—uh… I mean, you look pretty. Come in.” 

Seungcheol stumbles over his words, the flush of his cheeks evident as he shakes his head, trying to keep his head and not overstep with you. He knew where he stood and where he wanted this to go, but you had made yourself pretty clear the first day in your classroom. You were his son’s teacher and now this situation... It was odd. Seungcheol was just happy to at least have you in his life as a friend, if not more. 

Swallowing hard, you look down to hide your smile as Seungcheol compliments you. You weren’t sure how to react, so instead you pressed your lips together and gestured outward to his apartment. 

“Your place is so nice.” 

Shrugging, Seungcheol leads you towards the open kitchen and living room area where, the dinner, he has been working on bubbles quietly on the stove. You watch him adjust the temperature and stir a sauce as he sighs, tilting his head. 

“It’s a mess. I should have cleaned up more. I don’t usually have company besides a few friends, but they are used to Matthew’s shit laying around. Here, do you like this?” 

Holding the wooden spoon out towards you over the bar, Seungcheol watches as you blink at him a couple times before leaning forward to take a bit of the sauce off the spoon. It is savory and delicious as it hits your tongue and the back of your throat. Closing your eyes, you nod and lift your fingers to brush them over your lips as he watches you with a smile on his face at your reaction. 

“It’s delicious, Seungcheol.” 

Turning down the heat even more, Seungcheol moves to the sink to strain another larger pot as you watch him closely. His voice is calm and soothing. Everything about him makes you feel almost instantly comfortable in a space where you thought you’d want to hide under the table without a reason to truly be there. 

“I don’t know if it’s all that great. You are being nice, but this is my go to for dinner. Matthew likes pasta and I’m halfway decent at it. So I hope you actually like it.” 

Licking your lips, you lift your hand to cover your smile as you watch Seungcheol putting the finishing touches on dinner. He moves with ease, his eyes catching yours every once in a while, making your skin erupt in chillbumps as you glance away shyly. You could feel yourself getting too comfortable around him if you were to let your guard down, and that was all your body was telling you to do. 

“Mind to grab a couple of those wine glasses?” 

Glancing to your right, you shake your head gently before collecting two of the fragile glasses as Seungcheol moves past you towards the table. You hear your stomach growl as the smell of the pasta and garlic bread greets your nose when you get close enough to set the glasses down. Smiling, Seungcheol sneaks a look in your direction, watching your brows furrow and your lips turn down in embarrassment as he hears the grumble coming from your stomach. 

“I—sorry. I didn’t eat lunch.” 

Shaking his head, he picks up the bottle of wine, twisting the opener into the cork as he takes a breath to cover a small laugh. Seungcheol swore he could feel the effects of the alcohol before even taking a sip, with you standing so close to him and with how sweet you were. He knew this was a dangerous arrangement. Not that either of you would be doing anything wrong, but as the moments ticked by, it was getting difficult not to give into lingering glances. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. Except perhaps to yourself. You need to eat regularly, Y/N.” 

Groaning playfully, you hold the glasses steady, allowing Seungcheol to easily pour wine into each before he moves your chair, letting you sit down first. You can feel your cheeks flush up into your ears. The sound of blood rushing to your head has your hand reaching for your wine, bringing the glass to your lips to take a sip of the liquid courage as Seungcheol lifts your plate, putting pasta on it with an appreciative hum. 

“Thank you. I promise, I’m usually better about eating... and I always make sure the kids eat their lunch and snacks at school. So don’t think my own behavior somehow reflects—” 

Moving his hand from the serving fork, Seungcheol slides it over yours, meeting your eyes as you start to ramble. You were spiraling and there was no reason for it. 

“Hey… I know you are a good teacher. I don’t worry a single moment in the day about Matthew’s wellbeing when I know he’s with you. Don’t worry about that.” 

Taking a deep breath, you flex your fingers under Seungcheol’s palm, feeling his hands wrap around yours as his brows furrow. You can see the look in his eye and how he’s searching to make sure you understand what he’s told you, so you nod. Even if you didn’t completely feel adequate, you needed Seungcheol to let go of your hand before you fainted into his floor or made a run for the door. 

“Mmkay… I–mm…” Smiling, trying to compose yourself, you watch Seungcheol’s hand move from yours to his wine, making you feel like you can take a breath. “The wine is very good. Thank you for inviting me to eat.” 

Letting the wine glide over his tongue, Seungcheol smiles against the glass. He had noticed that you were starting to panic, but so was he. It hadn’t been his intention, but the alternative was you feeling like you weren’t good enough and that just wouldn’t work for him. Gesturing towards your plate, Seungcheol clears his throat and tilts his head before picking up his own fork. 

“Thank you for eating with me. I’m a sad, lonely sap when Matthew is gone on weekends. You saved me from boredom.” 

You weren’t sure how truthful Seungcheol was being but his words made you feel warm and they made you settle into your chair. They gave you a purpose to be there and not rush. You didn’t want him to be lonely. You suddenly realized how quiet it was in the apartment. You were used to that in yours but you could also sometimes hear Seungcheol and Matthew through the walls and they always sounded happy together. Of course, a weekend alone might be lonely for him. 

Two glasses of wine down and after refusing another helping of pasta, you felt even more relaxed around Seungcheol. He was funny and warm. You understood even more about Matthew after spending time with his dad. They were like a mirror image of one another and as much as you adored Matthew, you could see yourself feeling that way about Seungcheol as the night carried on. 

Soon you found yourself on his couch, another glass of wine in your hand as you pulled your legs up under you. Seungcheol grinned at you as you told him about going through your first year of assistant teaching. He could tell that you had a passion for your career and it was just one of the many things he was starting to love about you. This was becoming one of the easiest and equally difficult evenings of his night. While he loved talking to you and being close to you, he couldn’t help as his eyes moved over your pretty face and along your neck as he pictured getting closer to you and seeing if you’d let him touch you. Instead, he kept his respectful distance and admired you. 

Watching Seungcheol stand up to grab another bottle of wine, you tilt your head, letting your eyes move along his fit frame. You weren’t blind. You were a woman, you had needs, and god, if your body wasn’t screaming at you that you were an idiot for not trying to get closer to the man who had been smiling at you for the past few hours. You were simultaneously enraptured by him and terrified of him. You could see yourself falling for him and it would be hard and messy. It couldn’t end well, because the first person you saw in your mind was Matthew. 

Looking back around the room to pull your mind back to the present, despite the euphoric cloud of alcohol, you smile seeing the pictures of the boy on the wall. There were so many, from the time he was an infant to now. You could see pictures of Seungcheol and Matthew with others as well. A woman who you assumed was Matthew’s mother and some men who looked to be around Seungcheol’s age, perhaps brothers. A wave of longing hits you and you rest your head on your arm, a frown on your face as you keep looking around, finally noticing the degrees on the furthest wall. 

Narrowing your eyes, you struggle to make out the words, finally sitting up and leaning forward to read as Seungcheol moves back to the couch with a sigh. Reaching for your glass, the man says something you don’t pay attention to as he tries to hand you the glass. 

“Y/N? Is white wine okay?” 

Blinking a couple of times, you meet Seungcheol’s eyes and look at the glass in his hand with a clueless look on your face. A smile spreads over his face. He tilts his head and lets you take the glass from him as you gesture towards the wall with your other hand. 

“You—wait… You’re a doctor?” 

You weren’t sure what you had assumed Seungcheol did for a living, but a doctor hadn’t been on your bingo card. Looking around the room as you feel reality setting in, you can see that things make a bit more sense. The furniture was really nice. The wine was delicious and tasted expensive. Seungcheol, even in lounge wear, looked expensive. 

Shrugging, Seungcheol purses his lips as he takes a sip of the wine from the glass in his hand as he looks at his medical degree on the wall. He hadn’t really considered that you didn’t know or that it would matter. Meeting your eyes once again, he sighs and leans back against the back of the couch, getting comfortable. 

“Mmhm, family medicine. I have a small private practice in the city and a couple days a week I work out of the hospital in the emergency room. Are you that surprised? Do I not look smart enough to be a doctor or something?” 

Sitting up, you shake your head so fast Seungcheol is afraid you might get whiplash. Reaching forward as he laughs, he runs his fingers over your arm as you lift your glass to your lips, finally taking another sip to calm your nerves before explaining your apparent shock. 

“No…No—of course you are smart. You just don’t look like a doctor. I didn’t expect you to be... you know.” 

When you don’t elaborate, Seungcheol laughs as he leans to put his glass on a coaster on the end table. You take another larger sip of your wine as your eyes fall to the fingers of his other hand as they rest against your forearm and the couch. It isn’t lost on you, no matter how tipsy you might be or how much you enjoy his fingers on your skin. 

“I don’t know. Tell me. You can tell me anything.” 

That was a very dangerous thing to say to you and Seungcheol seemed to know it as he watched you snort into a laugh. Giving you the smile that you had grown to love so much, he bites at his lip and leans forward slightly, listening to the laugh fade as your eyes focus on him. 

“Seriously, tell me what you mean.” 

There was a lump in your throat and wine wasn’t going to get it to go down. You weren’t sure anything could. No matter how much you swallowed or cleared your throat, it was only when you glanced down at your wine that you were able to feel the pressure subside enough that you could talk. 

“I—you know what I mean, Seungcheol. The whole package, I guess.” 

Shaking his head again, Seungcheol sighs out a laugh, wishing he could just get you to say what you mean instead of this game where you beat around the bush. 

“Package? Like from Amazon? What are we talking about here, Y/N? Help me out.” 

He was frustrating in the most adorably clueless and teasing way. You had a feeling he knew what you were hinting at, even if he was trying to play dumb; he was a doctor after all. You had already insulted his intelligence once. Glancing up long enough to meet Seungcheol’s eyes, you take a deep breath and let it out with a sigh that sounds more like a laugh as you speak. 

“You’re incredibly attractive, a doctor, obviously successful, and a good dad. The whole package. I don’t think you can order that on Amazon.” 

Seungcheol bites at his lip after hearing you explain your words. It was better than he had anticipated. He felt bad for making you say it, he knew it had to be somewhat embarrassing, but he had to hear it. He might never hear it again, because at the end of the day, this wasn’t a real relationship. 

“Mm, well, that’s good for your boyfriend to know.”

Opening your mouth, you look confused but Seungcheol grins and picks up his wine, letting you off the hook as he takes a sip and continues. 

“You know, fake boyfriend.” 

A small, confused laugh slips from between your lips as you nod, trying to act like it is easy to understand and it all makes sense. You try to pretend like this is going to be easy and that him “helping” you keep up this ruse is a good idea, but who was it actually helping? 

“Right, my fake boyfriend. My fake doctor boyfriend.” 

Smirking, Seungcheol rolls his eyes and watches you finish off your glass of wine. He hated the word fake. Was it horrible of him to hope for a time when he could remove the word fake from his and your vocabulary? Yes, he knew it was. So he just takes a deep breath and points at your wine glass. 

“More wine, fake girlfriend?” 

Your laugh is so pretty, it almost breaks Seungcheol’s heart. He watches your head tilt back and his eyes move along your neck and back up to your face as you sigh. It’s when you glance at the clock on the wall and pout that he matches the pout, knowing what you are going to say. 

“It’s so late. I should go home.” 

Two in the morning. That was much later than you had intended on staying, but the look on Seungcheol’s face made you almost reluctant to get up. You were tired, the wine was doing a great job at aiding that fact, but it didn’t lessen that pout on his handsome face. You watch as he nods, a soft sigh escaping between his lips before he takes your empty glass and stands up. 

“Thank you again for coming over. I really did enjoy it. Maybe we can do this again sometime.” 

Your eyes follow Seungcheol into the kitchen as he puts the wine glasses into the sink. When he glances over his shoulder at you, giving you a hopeful look you can’t disappoint him even if your brain is screaming about how much this is going to hurt you. 

“Absolutely.” 

“That’s all you did?” 

Groaning at Jeonghan’s tone in his question, Seungcheol pushes a plate of leftover pasta across the kitchen island towards him and Jihoon. Lifting his hands, he gives his best friend an incredulous look before stabbing at his own food with a pout on his face. 

“What did you expect him to do, Jeonghan? Jump her the first chance he gets.” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes as he shoves a fork full of pasta into his mouth, talking between bites. Out of the two men, in his own opinion, he had the most level head in this situation. He understood why Seungcheol had let you go home and why he hadn’t made a move. Jeonghan, on the other hand, stared at his friend as if he had two heads and was growing another. 

“I expect him to grow some fucking balls. You deserve some happiness, Cheol. You have this hot little teacher next door that you won’t shut up about; she comes over, and that’s—that’s it!” 

Jeonghan made it seem like he had committed a crime by respecting you and your position as his teacher. Not that the two of you had exclusively said you didn’t want to actually explore things, but it was an unspoken thing. Seungcheol wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t get through medical school on a wish and a prayer. 

“I’m helping her with her stupid douche of an ex. It would be wrong of me to actually make a move. Plus, it would be weird for Matthew.” 

Finally swallowing a bite of his food, Jeonghan scoffs around the pasta at Seungcheol’s half ass attempt at an excuse. In his mind, it didn’t make any sense and he was grasping at straws. He had seen his best friend fall for someone before and he didn’t want to see him lose that chance because he was scared. 

“Bullshit, it would be weird for Matthew. He already talks about Miss Y/N all the damn time. He likes her more than he likes me at this point. It’s offensive…” 

Chuckling, Jihoon gets a harsh side eye from Jeonghan that he matches with one of his own. 

“I think it’s hilarious and I think that you need to stop riding Cheol’s ass. If he wants to ask her out, he’ll do it. If not—” 

“He’ll die alone and pouting.” 

Dropping his fork into his plate, Seungcheol lifts his hand to push at his temples as his friends continue to talk about him as if he isn’t even in the room. Both of them had good points and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Jeonghan had some of the better ones. He knew he was being a wimp when it came to you, but he wasn’t ready to bet and lose. 

Noticing that Seungcheol had gone quiet, Jeonghan turned his attention back to him, letting out a sigh as Jihoon did the same. Neither of them liked the look on his face. They had been friends with him for over a decade and been through a majority of the highs and the lows. They had been there for the best of his life so far and the day that he thought his own had ended because hers had. 

Rubbing his thumb into his palm as he thinks about what to say next, Jihoon furrows his brows deeply. For a moment, he looks annoyed, but that’s because he is. He’s annoyed that he’s going to agree with Yoon Jeonghan for the first time in a long time. Sighing in a groan, the man leans forward and taps his fingers on the island as he tries to make his point. 

“Listen, I’m not saying I completely agree with Jeonghan—”

“But clearly, he agrees—” 

Shooting a look at the man, Jihoon watches a smirk pull up at Jeonghan’s lips as he stops talking, letting him continue. 

“But... even I can admit that something is going on in your head, Cheol. I’m not going to push you as hard as him, but don’t let it slip through your fingers because of the unknown.” 

That was what terrified him. The unknown. You could reject him completely. He could look like a fool. You could accept him and fall in love with him. Then he might lose you. There was so much unknown. The unknown had ruined his life before and only the people closest to him and his son had kept him from drowning. 

“What if it doesn’t work out?” 

Nodding, Jeonghan lifts his hands off the island and takes a deep breath, letting it out as he meets Seungcheol’s eyes to answer his question. 

“And what if it does?” 

Forcing a smile on your face after a long day, you stand up as the bell rings and parents start to move into the room to collect their children. Taking your time, you note each one, telling them to have a good evening and that you will see them in the morning. 

It wasn’t that you hadn’t enjoyed your day, but you could feel a headache behind your eyes and fifteen screaming five year olds was a lot for anyone. So as the numbers started to dwindle, you could feel the anxiety starting to fade from you. 

“Hey, buddy!” 

Glancing up as Matthew squeals happily, you watch him run towards a slender but fit man that you vaguely recognize. Perhaps he had been on Seungcheol’s walls in one of the pictures, but you didn’t have a name to put—

“Uncle Jeonghan!”

Ah, so this was Uncle Jeonghan that Matthew talked about so much. Picking up your clipboard, you furrow your brows, moving over to him and the man as you quickly make sure the man’s name is listed as someone authorized to pick up. 

“Have a good day? This must be Miss Y/N that your daddy talks about all the time.” 

Lifting your head from the clipboard, you meet the man’s eyes as your cheeks start to burn. Opening your mouth, you close it quickly as he smirks at you and ruffles the boy's head as he clings close to him. 

“I—Yoon Jeonghan? If you could just sign for Matthew, since you're not his legal guardian and only listed as an authorized person, it’s policy.” 

Taking the clipboard from you, Jeonghan grins as you seem to shy away at his words. He could see the appeal. You were beautiful and seemed responsible. You were exactly Seungcheol’s type. 

“No problem; Y/N. Cheol had to work in the ER today so here I am to save the day. I honestly don’t know why he didn’t just ask you to bring him home.” 

Scoffing in surprise, you watch as Matthew gasps and looks up at you like a new toy. 

“That’d be so cool! Miss Y/N, can you one day? I can show you my toys.” 

Not wanting to disappoint the boy, you give him a strained smile and meet Jeonghan’s eyes, realizing he was an enabler. Seungcheol should have warned you about him, but maybe he didn’t even realize how your first meeting with him would go. 

“Maybe… I’m your teacher, Matthew. We play at school—” 

“Well and his neighbor and his daddy’s girl—” 

Shaking your head, you watch as Jeonghan bites his lip to stifle a laugh before nodding and holding up his free hand as a way of surrendering. Apparently Seungcheol had shared some details of your “relationship” with his friend. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out, but you had a feeling this man was the type to pull you out and back into the spotlight. 

“Maybe one day, Matthew... but let’s not get our hopes up.” 

Pouting up at you, Matthew just nods and moves away from you both to go get his things. Letting out a breath, you take back your clipboard and put it down on a shelf behind you as you and Jeonghan glance towards the small boy as he pulls on his jacket. 

“He’d let you take him home.” 

Furrowing your brows, you glance over at Jeonghan and shift on your feet at his words and the implication behind them. Noticing how you seem to nervously shift from foot to foot, Jeonghan smirks and glances down at his phone in his hand, answering a text from Seungcheol as he speaks to you. 

“One day he’ll man up and ask you out for real. This fake dating shit—” 

“Don’t curse in my classroom, please.” 

A laugh slips from between his lips as he glances up from his phone to offer you an apologetic smile before nodding and continuing. 

“Sure, sorry. As I was saying, this fake dating nonsense you two have going on right now isn't going to work. I can already tell you like him.” 

Insufferable. That's how you’d describe Yoon Jeonghan. You had known him for less than ten minutes and already you knew he was going to be an issue in your life. Crossing your arms, you start to sigh into your words, a dramatic big breath, when Alex’s voice once again ruins your moment. 

“Matt, buddy, let me help.” 

Jeonghan watches as your head moves like prey sensing a predator towards the other teacher, who was now helping Matthew with his bag. His eyes move to his godson’s face as he grimaces as the man tugs on the straps, keeping them tight on his arms. 

“He’s fine, Mr. Alex. Thank you.” 

You still sounded like yourself, with that sweet tone to your voice, but even Jeonghan could hear the hint of malice behind it. So this was Alex, and now Alex thought it was okay to mess with Seungcheol’s son. The “fake” dating made sense. This man did not understand boundaries and used everything in front of him as an open door. 

Stepping in front of Alex, you smile at Matthew and the smile transfers to the boy’s face. Jeonghan feels relief wash over him at the sight as you kneel down, adjust the straps back to where they were and then tie his shoe properly. 

“I was just helping out a student, Miss Y/N.” 

Oof… There was so much tension in this room that even Jeonghan felt like he was going to drown in it. Stepping forward, he clears his throat and offers his hand towards Matthew, letting him take his fingers. 

“And while I’m sure she appreciates that, and the parents do... I don’t know you, Mr. Alex, was it? From where I was standing, some strange man was touching my godson, which honestly made me nervous for a moment. I’d be more careful; this isn’t your classroom.” 

Standing up, you feel your cheeks burn under Alex’s eyes as he looks to you to defend him, but you don’t. Jeonghan had a point. Not every parent or guardian knew who all the teachers were, not even the students knew the other teachers. Simple acts could be misunderstood and while he was doing something to “be nice” and it was innocent, you knew there was another reason he was inserting himself into your and Matthew’s lives. 

“Well, I do apologize for the misunderstanding. My classroom is right down the hall. I was just coming to see Miss Y/N. We are very close.” 

Jeonghan just smirks at the man and shoots you a glance before looking at his phone and seeing a reply from Seungcheol. 

“I’m sure you are.” Dismissing the man, he looks at you and smiles brightly. “Y/N, dear… Cheol asked me if you wouldn’t mind helping me with Matthew once you get home? I’m an awful cook.” 

Opening his mouth to say something, Alex stops when Matthew squeals with delight and grabs at your shirt, begging you to come over. 

Another point to you and Seungcheol. 

Staring at Seungcheol’s apartment door, you listen to the sound of Matthew’s laughter. While you knew why you had agreed to Jeonghan’s ridiculous plan, you weren’t sure why you were attempting to follow through with it. You could so easily just text Seungcheol and tell him that your evening got far too busy, and you wouldn’t be able to help Jeonghan out with Matthew, but suddenly it felt important to you. 

Jeonghan had been doing a good job, for the most part, at keeping Matthew distracted from asking when you were going to come over, but every few minutes the question kept coming up. He knew there was a slight chance you might bail on them, but he had a good feeling you wouldn’t, so he simply told Matthew, “she’ll be here soon,” each time he asked. So when you knocked on the door, a little after 6:30, Matthew squealed in delight and beat Jeonghan to it by a mile. 

“Miss Y/N! I’m so excited. I have coloring pages and my trucks to show you. Can we paint?” 

Shaking your head, you run your fingers over Matthew’s head with a sigh as you listen to Jeonghan chuckle under his breath a few feet away. It was clear to see that the little boy had you wrapped around his little finger. You weren’t supposed to have a favorite student, and maybe that wasn’t even what was happening here, but you adored Matthew. Him and his gummy smile. 

“Maybe? I’m supposed to help with dinner. What did your Uncle Jeonghan have in mind?” 

Giving you a once over in your more casual clothes, Jeonghan nods in approval before gesturing towards the kitchen as if you didn’t already know where it was. 

“Luckily for me, Cheol is a great father. He left a note that says, 'stuff for pizza in the fridge’, so it looks like it’s pizza, Teach.” 

Rolling your eyes, you let Matthew hold on to your waist as you make your way into the kitchen and glance at the note in question. 

“And you can’t make pizza on your own?” 

“Uncle Jeonghan burneded my chicken nuggets last week. Can you make me pizza, Miss Y/N?” 

Letting out a breath, you meet Matthew’s eyes before looking back up at Jeonghan, who grimaces at the mention of the chicken nuggets. Maybe it was a good thing that you were here if this man couldn’t even be trusted with the most simple of foods. 

It didn’t take long for the three of you to get into a comfortable rhythm. You quickly took over things in the kitchen, leaving Jeonghan to entertain Matthew, which in turn kept him from being under your feet. It wasn’t until you were putting the homemade pizza into the oven that the evening started to calm down and you were able to really look around you and feel your heart tightening. You wanted this. Not with Jeonghan, though he was starting to grow on you as a friend, but you wanted to be around Matthew more and to help with him. 

Feeling your cell phone vibrate in your back pocket, you wipe your hands off on a dish towel and slip it from your pocket only for a smile to pull at the corner of your lips. 

Seungcheol: I owe you big time 

Glancing towards the living room, you press your lips together watching Matthew and Jeonghan sitting at the coffee table with crayons covering most of the surface. Now that feeling of wanting this more often was even stronger as you thought about Seungcheol, wishing he was here… even though that felt wrong on some level. You shouldn’t want something with a parent of one of your students… there had to be something wrong about that, or at least Alex was good at making you feel like there was. 

Y/N: Don’t say that yet. Pizza isn’t out of the oven yet. I might burn it just as bad as Jeonghan.

Grinning as he leans against the wall of the break room, Seungcheol allows himself a moment to just enjoy the idea of you in his apartment. He knew he would be there in a few more hours, but picturing you with Matthew seemed so domestic. Jeonghan was right, as much as Seungcheol hated to admit it… he wanted more with you than some fake relationship. 

“What are you smiling at like that? It’s creepy…” 

Scoffing at Joshua Hong’s teasing words, Seungcheol quickly replies to you before clearing his throat and sliding his phone back into his coat pocket. He had never been good at “acting casual,” and most of his friends knew that, so this time was no different. 

“Nothing, why are you? You know, being nosy? Don’t you have a patient in Five?” 

Joshua smirks as he watches Seungcheol scratch his neck. He could see that his friend was nervous and that, paired with the stupid, love-sick smile he had been wearing, could only mean one thing. 

“I just discharged that patient. Are you simping that hard over some girl? Choi Seungcheol, are you fucking someon–” 

Lifting his hands, Seungcheol is quick to let out a panicked sound in order to stop Joshua from continuing. It was bad enough that he had to deal with Jeonghan on almost a daily basis. Dealing with both Jeonghan and Joshua, now that was a nightmare. 

“Shut up. I—no. No, I’m not fuck—I’m not sleeping with anyone. You spend too much time with Jeonghan if you are talking like that.” 

Joshua had never known Seungcheol to be so proper and flustered before, and honestly, it was pretty amusing to see him sweat over something as simple as a girl. 

“Hannie and I enjoy our quality time; thank you very much. Get the stick out of your ass and tell me what’s going on, or I’ll just have to ask him. I’m sure he knows.” 

The idea of Jeonghan being able to explain his love life, or the lack thereof, to anyone but especially to Joshua was a terrifying and humiliating thought. Shaking his head, Seungcheol groans and reaches for Joshua’s arm, stopping him from leaving the break room as he glances towards the clock to see how much time he has left on his break before he explains from the beginning. 

Seungcheol: Well burnt or not, can’t wait to get home and have a slice. See you in about an hour?

You had stared at your phone and Seungcheol’s text for a bit longer than you had meant to. When Jeonghan pursed his lips and glanced over your shoulder to see what had your attention so enraptured, you gasped, pulling the phone to your chest. 

“Sorry, I said your name a couple times, but you were staring at your phone like it was a bomb. I had to make sure you didn’t need help with it.” 

Furrowing your brows, you clear your throat and put your phone face down on the counter, turning towards the oven and leaning to glance at the pizza through the window. You were avoiding the topic, but Jeonghan wasn’t the one to just give up. 

“You set a timer, didn’t you? Should come out right in time for us to eat. You know, Matthew, me, you, and Cheol.” 

Glancing over your shoulder, you narrow your eyes at Jeonghan and straighten to your full height so that you feel a bit less small in front of him. 

“I wasn’t going to stay for dinner.” 

Tilting his head, Jeonghan starts to speak when Matthew whines and the sound of his little feet hitting the wood floor draws your attention. You get ready to explain to him that you need to go, that you have so much you have to do before bedtime, but one look down at him and the pout on his face... all excuses die on your tongue. 

“Please don’t go! Eat pizza with me. You said maybe to playing with trucks.” 

You watch as tears start to gather in Matthew’s eyes and it almost breaks your heart. Even Jeonghan feels a pang of guilt knowing he had pushed a little too hard, and he finds himself hoping you’ll stay as he looks at Matthew, his small shoulders lifting to take a breath, trying to keep himself from crying. 

Squatting in front of Matthew, you run your fingers over his cheeks and offer him a smile, happy to see his lips pull up even slightly in return. It was easier to say no at school. You knew you had authority and there was more to say no to. Children would get into trouble more often if you gave in, but here, what would you lose if you said yes? What harm could it really cause? 

“I—I’ll stay for dinner. I made really good pizza. I would hate to miss out on it or your trucks.” 

Wrapping his arms around your neck, Matthew grins as he giggles. He had known a lot of sadness in his short life, but his father and those around him had worked hard to show him even more joy. This was more joy. There was something special about you, and it wasn’t just that you were his teacher or that he liked you so much; it was more that you felt so warm and made him wonder what his mommy would have been like. Not that he would tell you that, at least not tonight. 

Patting Matthew’s back, you glance up at Jeonghan as he purses his lips, the look on his face a mixture of apologetic and appreciative. It takes a moment before you are finally able to pull away from the boy and meet his eyes, seeing a bit of wetness on his cheeks, but that big smile on his face remains even as you wipe the tears away. 

“The pizza has to cook for a bit longer. Wanna show me what you and Uncle Jeonghan were working on?” 

Letting out a deep breath as he walks through the door, Seungcheol finds the stress of his day quickly replaced by fondness. He knew you had decided to stay for dinner, but seeing you in his living room with Matthew for himself was a different story. Now he couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips even as Jeonghan watched him carefully, studying him for what seemed like a full minute before Seungcheol finally moved further into the house. 

“Thought you were going to stand in the hall all damn night.” 

Scoffing at Jeonghan’s words, Seungcheol shakes his head before meeting your eyes trying not to lose himself in your soft smile. You are so beautiful and it was becoming impossible for him to pretend like he didn’t like you, and that he didn’t want to see what this could be without some silly stipulations to your relationship. 

“How’s the evening been so far? Don’t I get a hug?” 

While his words were meant for Matthew, you still pressed your lips together feeling a slight urge to stand up and move into Seungcheol’s arms too. He looked incredible, even as tired as he was. You were having a hard time not staring at him, and Jeonghan was taking notes. 

“I think the uh—the pizza is cool enough to eat. So you have good timing.” 

Nodding to your words, Seungcheol squats down to hug Matthew. You watch fondly as he rocks the small boy back and forth a few times, causing him to let out a delighted sound before Seungcheol stands and runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Awesome, thank you again for helping, Y/N. I’ll… uh get changed and meet you guys at the table.” 

Swallowing hard, you nod as your eyes follow Seungcheol through the room until he is out of your line of sight. A small chuckle to your right pulls your attention back to the present and to Jeonghan, who simply lifts his brows and pats Matthew’s back, ushering him towards the dining room. 

“Pizza time, buddy. Too much ogling is going on in this room for my stomach to handle.”

Looking up at Jeonghan, Matthew tilts his head as he walks beside him, a look of confusion on his cute face. 

“What’s ohgling?” 

With a groan, you drop your head into your hands for a split second before moving to your feet and following along with the two just in time to hear Jeonghan explain how to say the word properly and that it means to look at someone for a long time because you like them. At least he had kept it PG.

“Can Miss Y/N tuck me in tonight?”

Matthew’s words make you stop what you are doing mid-bite. Jeonghan’s smirk only grows as Seungcheol tilts his head, looking at his son and over to you as you give both of them a deer stuck in headlights look. The evening had gotten exponentially more interesting since Seungcheol had gotten home. You two weren’t fooling anyone, at least as far as Jeonghan was concerned, and this was the cherry on top. 

“I–well… That’s up to Miss Y/N.” 

Meeting your eyes, Seungcheol looks a bit worried that you might say no. He wouldn’t fault you if you did, but he hated the idea of his son being disappointed. You could see the look and it was so very similar to the look in Matthew’s eye that your stomach was in your throat. Why were these two so impossible for you to refuse? 

“I don’t mind.” 

Clapping his hands together, Jeonghan gives you both a wide smile before pushing his chair back from the table and wiping at his lips. 

“Great, now that’s settled, means I can get headed home. Thank you for the lovely dinner, Y/N. Please invite me again.” 

Following Jeonghan, Seungcheol gives you an apologetic look as you start to speak but can’t seem to find the right words to defend yourself. While you had grown used to his teasing over the past few hours, it didn’t make it any easier to handle in front of Seungcheol and Matthew. You could feel heat rising in your neck and face as you turned your attention back towards Matthew as he grabbed your hand and tried to tug you out of your seat. 

“Come on! I gotta show you my room and my trucks. Daddy says they are the most coolest.” 

You were lucky to have such a sweet distraction, just two of your fingers in his small hand as Matthew led you down the hall and away from the embarrassment of Yoon Jeonghan’s words. After watching you and Matthew for a moment, Seungcheol then glances back at his best friend as he slips his shoes on and offers him a triumphant smile. In his mind, clearly, he had managed to play matchmaker well if you were staying longer than he was. He could almost hear the wedding bells in the back of his mind, but the look on Seungcheol’s face was one of doubt, which always leads to delays. 

“You’re welcome. Get that stupid look off your face and seal the deal.” 

Scoffing, Seungcheol double checks that you can’t hear either of them before he meets Jeonghan’s eyes once more. 

“Would you shut the hell up? I–we don’t know what’s going to happen. She was doing me a favor because you trapped her in a moment—” 

“No, she came over because she wanted to. She could have canceled and she could have left hours ago, Cheol. She wants to be here and she wants to be here with you. You weren’t here to see her schoolgirl crush smiling at her phone every time you sent a message.” 

Pressing his lips together while learning about the couple of hours before he had gotten home, Seungcheol couldn't stop how the corners of his lips started to turn up. He wanted to see that smile. He loved your smile. He loved how you made Matthew smile. God, he was falling for you and it was that hard sort of falling that people warned you about. 

“Really?” 

Shaking his head, Jeonghan reaches over to pat Seungcheol’s bicep as he rolls his eyes at his friend’s reaction. You were the school girl and here was your school boy. It was a match made in heaven, and it was nauseating to be around. 

“Really, Casanova. Don’t let her slip through your fingers because you’re a pussy.” 

Seungcheol groans, his smile falling at Jeonghan’s wording. Why did he have to be so crass? No, he wasn’t some church going perfect angel himself, but at least he didn’t go around calling people a pussy. 

“Get out, seriously. If Matthew starts saying shit like that, I’m personally making you pay for his therapy sessions.” 

Getting one last cheeky grin from Jeonghan, Seungcheol closes the door and makes his way back towards your soft voice. It was getting late and being a school night, it was around the time he would normally get Matthew ready for bed. He almost hated the idea of that tonight. He knew that Matthew wanted you to tuck him in, but what would that mean afterwards? Would you have leave right way? Could he talk you into staying for a glass of wine? It was a school night for you too…

“No, that truck was my favorite too. Get your teeth in the back too.” 

Surprised to hear you and Matthew in the bathroom, Seungcheol tilts his head and leans against the wall, watching you smile at his son. It was surreal to see something like this. He had always wanted this for Matthew—and, if he could be selfish, for himself. 

This wasn’t something he had gotten much of from his wife before her accident. She didn’t get to help him put Matthew to bed once he was old enough to remember her. While Seungcheol would always regret that, he found himself allowing himself a bit of time to relish Matthew’s little piece of normality with you. 

“Good! Big smile.” 

You laugh, your heart full and warm, as Matthew shows you his clean teeth. This was dangerous. You were so in love with this family. You could see yourself doing this every single night and never getting tired of it. There was something about Matthew and Seungcheol that made your life feel complete and that was terrifying in ways that you couldn’t even explain to yourself. 

“One of my favorite smiles. Time to change? Then I can come tuck you in.” 

Turning to follow Matthew, you stop short, seeing Seungcheol watching you from the hall. You get hit with a sudden rush of anxiety, wondering if you have overstepped, but the smile and look on his face tell you that you haven’t. You watch his fingers glide through Matthew’s hair before he glances back at him, telling him not to bring trucks into his bed, before he looks at you and takes your breath away with a smile. 

“You’re a natural.” 

Shyly, you shake your head and move towards him and Matthew’s bedroom, stopping just outside to give the boy time to change. 

“Just teacher things, I guess.” 

Seungcheol shakes his head and fights his urge to reach out and pull you towards him. You were standing too far away from him and with how he was feeling, all he wanted to do was pull you into his arms and do exactly what Jeonghan had told him to do. Why was he dancing around this? You were everything he had been wanting and not even the fear of the unknown was enough to keep him from taking that leap. 

Starting to speak, Seungcheol watches you take a deep breath when Matthew’s small voice makes him stop before he even gets started. You instead watch as he smiles and rubs the back of his neck, gesturing for you to go ahead. Biting at your lip, you nod and give him a small glance as you pass by, only for your breath to get caught in your throat when Seungcheol’s fingers trail over your fingers just before you cross over the threshold into the bedroom. 

“Go ahead; I’ll say goodnight once he’s tucked in. Something tells me he might get upset if I try to interrupt.” 

One last look towards Seungcheol, and you move into Matthew’s room and sit on the side of his bed as he grins up at you. Your stomach was doing flips as butterflies held a rave inside of you, but with a deep breath, you managed to keep your cool and tuck the covers around Matthew. 

“How’s that? Too tight?” 

Shaking his head, Matthew wiggles under the covers to show you that he can still move easily as you run your fingers over the top of his head, feeling his eyes move over your face. 

“Okay, good. Sleep well and I’ll see you at school in the morning.” 

“Mmkay, Miss Y/N.” 

You smile at his tired words, starting to stand when Matthew whines and you stay right where you are, giving him a concerned look at the sudden change. 

“Can I have a hug for bedtime?” 

You knew you would say no. Sure, it would make Matthew sad and, in turn, make you sad, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much as what you chose to do. Instead of saying no, you nodded and leaned down to let him wrap his arms around your neck and hold you close to him as he whispered his thanks for the day and told you goodnight. You could feel the tears rising in your eyes even as you willed them to stay back. 

“It’s my pleasure, Matthew. Tha–thank you for hanging out with me. Sleep tight…” 

Seungcheol had to take a deep breath while watching his son cling to you like a safety net. It almost broke his heart to watch you sit up, but then you ran your fingers over Matthew’s face and whispered goodnight and Seungcheol could have sworn he saw tears in your eyes. Was that a good sign or a bad one? 

Sliding past Seungcheol, you sniff softly but smile at him as you let him move into the room. You find yourself wanting to watch as he finishes up the bedtime routine, but your heart won’t let you. The tears on your cheeks tell you that you need to run out of this apartment as fast as you can, but you wait, feeling the need to say your goodbyes to Seungcheol. 

The soft click of the door shutting draws your attention back towards Matthew’s room and Seungcheol as you wipe your cheeks quickly and put your smile back on your face. You didn’t hate what you were feeling; it just terrified you to no end. You had never pictured a family with Alex; no matter how many times he had brought up what a fantastic mother you were going to be to his children, it wasn’t something that you could see. Looking at Seungcheol, you could picture that future and you weren’t even in a real relationship with him. What did that say about you?

“Hey, thanks for doing that. He’s already out like a light. I never get him down that easy.”

You only manage to hum into a small smile at Seungcheol’s words as he moves closer to you,  his presence making it harder for you to choose if you want to stay or run. 

“It’s no biggie. He’s a great kid.” 

Nodding, Seungcheol opens and closes his hand a few times before taking the leap and reaching out to wrap his fingers around yours, feeling your hand shake in his. Maybe you were just as nervous as he was? Maybe you could already see where this was going? Maybe, just maybe, you wanted it too. 

“He is… But, um, could I say something? Not about Matthew and you hear me out?” 

Those butterflies had taken something strong at their rave and you felt like you were going to be sick with nerves. Your head was woozy even as you nodded to answer Seungcheol, unable to find the right words. Swallowing hard, he sighs into a small laugh before reaching up to scratch at his brow with his free hand, keeping yours in his other. 

“I–okay, I’m just gonna say it, alright? I love having you around. I really like this, you know? Us. So I was thinkin’ if you aren’t busy, maybe we could get dinner this weekend? Just the two of us?” 

Letting out a breath, you pull your fingers back and smile at Seungcheol, trying to think straight, but nothing in your head makes sense. You were panicking. The look on Seungcheol’s face told you that he could see you were panicking as you took a step back from him and literally looked for your escape route. 

“It is so late. I have work in the morning, but you know that. Thank you so much for dinner. I mean, you know what I mean.”

Following you, Seungcheol runs his fingers through his hair, feeling panic start to roll through him as you pretend that he hadn’t just confessed to you and asked you out. Was he that bad of a choice? Or was this about something else? Were you afraid too?

“Y/N? What? Wait, no, I know you have work. Shit… wait. I didn’t mean to—” 

Turning to face him as you reach the door, you can’t stop the tears that run down your cheeks. The same tears seem to resonate with Seungcheol and stop him from giving you his reasoning. All he finds himself wanting to do is hold you and make it better, but that fear of pushing you away is stronger than ever as you wipe at your cheeks and apologize under your breath, pulling your shoes on. 

“I will talk to you later, okay? Just… I can’t do this right now.” 

Seungcheol knew he should say something else, do something to stop you from leaving until more was said and understood, but all he could do was watch as his door shut and leave him in silence. His heart beating hard in his chest, the pang of rejection and confusion rips through Seungcheol as he turns away from where you had been standing and moves to the couch to sit down and rest his head in his hands. 

Inside your apartment, you let your tears fall freely. You didn’t want to disappoint Seungcheol, but the first thing you saw when he said those words to you was Matthew’s disappointed face. That’s the face you would have to see if the relationship didn’t work out. That's who you’d be hurting. It wouldn’t just be your heart or even Seungcheol’s heart on the line; it would be that child’s heart. 

So now you sat on your kitchen floor, your heart feeling shattered as you forced yourself to stick to what you had decided instead of running back over to Seungcheol’s apartment and telling him that you felt the same way. Sometimes people don’t get what they want just because they want it. Sometimes they have to give up what they want for the benefit of others.

Seungcheol was nervous as he stood in the doorway to your classroom. He knew he was early and that Matthew wasn’t particularly happy with him because he would be the first student at school, but he needed to talk to you. The way things had ended the night before was eating at him. 

Ushering Matthew into the room, Seungcheol watches as his son runs over to you. He feels his heart tighten as small arms wrap around your waist and he wants to do the same thing. The confusion and surprise on your face are enough to make the thoughts move from Seungcheol’s mind as he smiles at you and lifts Matthew’s bag, walking towards the cubbies. 

“You—you’re early. The others won’t be here for probably half an hour.” 

Wincing at your words as he hangs Matthew’s bag up, Seungcheol considers lying. He thinks about telling you that he just has to get to work early—that’s the only reason he’s bringing Matthew in so early—but the look in your eye tells him that he should just tell you the truth. 

"I—yeah, I know. I just… Could I talk to you for a second?” 

Glancing towards Matthew, you sigh as he moves away from you both towards the building block area to play. Crossing your arms, you gesture back towards the door and the cubbies to give even more space between yourself and Seungcheol from the boy so he can’t hear. 

“I’m not sure there’s a lot to talk—”

“I know… I’m sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt you, Y/N. But please? Can I just say this? I didn’t really get to finish what I wanted to say.” 

You furrow your brow, glancing down at your fingers on your forearm as you nod. This conversation was already too difficult. Seungcheol felt too close, but glancing off to the side towards Matthew as he stacks up blocks, counting them quietly under his breath, makes you take in a deep breath as you listen to what he has to say. 

“Okay, can’t we just try it? This seems to work great. I mean, at least it does to me. All I asked for was dinner. I like you, Y/N. Like, really, really like you.” 

Tilting his head as he stops walking in the hallway, Alex narrows his eyes, listening to the conversation in your classroom. He had wanted to see you before school started, before your students arrived, but clearly someone had beat him. As he listened closer to the voice of the man, he recognized it, Seungcheol, your boyfriend. Why would he need to tell you how much he liked you? 

Shaking your head, you lift your fingers to quickly wipe at your cheeks, feeling moisture under your eyes as you take a deep breath. This isn't about what you wanted or what Seungcheol wanted. That had become obvious to you last night. You couldn’t and wouldn’t risk breaking Matthew’s heart and ruining something good in his life. You couldn’t be more than his teacher. Even being his friend was putting too much pressure on him. Everything could come crashing down and it wouldn’t be you or Seungcheol who would suffer the most; it would be Matthew. 

“I shouldn’t have asked you to do this. I should have had more guts to just—” Stopping to let out an unamused laugh, you meet Seungcheol’s eyes as he gives you a confused, sad look. “I’m so sorry, Seungcheol. We need to stop this. No more pretending. It’s not good for us and it’s worse for Matthew.” 

Pretending. The word causes Seungcheol’s heart to feel like it’s breaking and it causes Alex to scoff. You had been pretending to date Seungcheol. Shaking his head, Alex smirks as he turns back towards his own classroom, running his fingers through his hair, leaving you to finish your breakup with your fake boyfriend. He could always talk to you later. 

“I—Y/N…please. Why do you think that this is going to hurt anyone? I don’t ever want to hurt you and I certainly wouldn’t hurt my son.” 

Biting at your lips, you furrow your brows and take a step back from Seungcheol as his voice cracks. You could hear other people in the halls now; this conversation had to end. 

“Have a good day, Dr. Choi.” 

With his mouth falling open in confusion and hurt, Seungcheol closes his eyes at your words before nodding. He could hear the sound of the other children in the halls too. He knew he couldn’t force you to talk about this or to come out of your shell, even if he could obviously see you were holding back something. 

You turn from him as Seungcheol moves back into the classroom to lean over Matthew, kissing him on top of the head and whispering his goodbye before glancing at you once more. Without another word, he leaves the room and you feel like you are standing in the ocean as a wave of pain washes over you. 

The day is longer than any other that you can remember. You avoid Seungcheol’s eyes as he picks up Matthew, even as the little boy grabs at your hand, asking you to come back over for dinner. When Seungcheol tells him that tonight isn’t a good night, you hold back your tears as you listen to Matthew’s small, sad voice asking why. 

That was why this wasn’t going to work. You were so good at disappointing people. That was what your degree hanging on the wall should be in. A PhD in Disappointment. 

Walking through your now empty room, you let the silence wash over you as you picked up books and toys, not hearing the door open. You don’t hear footsteps approaching you until Alex’s voice pulls you out of your haze and brings you back to reality. 

“You didn’t have to be so pathetic and pretend to have a boyfriend, babe. Seriously? I don’t need to be jealous to want you back in my life. I’ll take you back, Y/N. You don’t have to put on a brave face.” 

Alex’s words bite at your self esteem and your confidence. Keeping your back to him for a moment longer, you fight back your tears, realizing he had to have heard your conversation with Seungcheol at the beginning of the day. You want to be angry and embarrassed, but instead you are relieved. There is no longer a secret hanging over your head, no need to pretend or worry about some big reveal as the panic slowly fades from your body. 

All you are left with, once the anxiety is gone, is disgust. You try to quickly picture a time when you were in love with Alex. You try to imagine wanting a full and long life with him after hearing him say such hateful and degrading things to you, but you can’t. All you can feel is hate and pity. The pity isn’t even for yourself; instead, you feel an overwhelming pity for the man who once made you laugh before he made you cry. 

Turning to face Alex, you meet his eyes as he smirks at you, the smug look on his face looking more like a mask than something real. He wants to play the villain so badly and you could play the victim and let him have it, but instead you just sigh and nod. 

“Thank you, Alex.” 

Starting to speak, Alex looks surprised and hopeful before you lift your hand and stop him as you continue to speak. 

“Thank you for reminding me why I will never allow you in my life again. I never want to see you again. Someone who would say something like that to me... well, it should be obvious if you ever loved me why I couldn’t and wouldn’t want you near me. Please get the fuck out of my classroom and my life.” 

Your voice is even, a bit of emotion laced in it, but you aren’t hysterical like Alex had imagined or perhaps wanted. You are instead mostly calm and collected and your words stab him in the gut like the final nail in the coffin of any chance at a relationship that he had imagined. 

Taking a step backwards, Alex tries to speak—to come up with some excuse for his actions, but you were right. As he thinks back on the person that he had been and the person that he has become, guilt bites at him, making it harder to defend himself. 

You watch as he shakes his head, muttering something so low that you can’t hear it before he moves out of the room and your door shuts, leaving you once again in that empty silence. 

Closing your eyes, you are back in that ocean as waves crash over you. Tears stream down your face and you recognize the pain as heartbreak. Heartbreak from the final mourning period of a relationship and the impossibility of another. Another wave knocks you back and you let out a sob, your hand on your stomach. More loss, but mixed with relief. 

You feel the loss of a possibility for your own family. You had seen yourself with Seungcheol and Matthew, but that was possible. The relief was from letting go, or attempting to. It was also a loss of the weight that had been on your shoulders from the very moment that you had lied to Alex. 

You just wish that it had never been a lie.

Despite many pep talks from Jeonghan, Seungcheol couldn’t make himself knock on your door. He had seen you around the apartment complex during spring break, but you were avoiding him. Worst of all, you seem to be avoiding Matthew. 

He didn’t really blame you. After what you had told him, it made sense. You were scared, but so was he. He had been terrified from the moment he realized his feelings for you, but he had taken the leap and ended up falling short. 

Any other time, Seungcheol would have given up. He would have stopped looking for that person and tried to push them out of his life, so why couldn’t he do that with you? Why would he lay in bed every single night and picture you in yours, just an apartment over? Why would he look at his phone and pray that you would text him? Why couldn’t he just get some guts and text you himself? 

He had decided that after spring break, the first day of school, he would try his best. At school, it wasn’t like you couldn’t talk to him. You had to talk to parents, and you had to talk to your students. Matthew was excited about seeing you again; this would be the perfect time. It would have been perfect if, when Seungcheol had come through the door, there wasn’t a completely different person standing at the front of the classroom. 

 “Daddy…” 

The whine in Matthew’s voice almost broke Seungcheol’s heart. Running his hand over Matthew’s hair, Seungcheol offers the woman a smile and tilts his head as he walks towards her as she looks down at her clipboard. 

“Hi. Uh, Matthew Choi… I’m Seungcheol, his father.” 

Smiling at the boy and at Seungcheol, the woman finds Matthew’s name and places a check next to it before sighing. 

“So prompt, I value responsibility. Hello, I’m Mrs. Lim.” 

Shaking the woman’s hand, Seungcheol tries to keep his smile, but he knows it’s strained as he glances around the room, realizing how much of the room has changed. The posters were different. The books were in a different place. This wasn’t your classroom anymore. 

“It’s really nice to meet you. I’m so sorry, but where is Miss Y/N?”

Swallowing hard, Mrs. Lim nods at the question before putting her clipboard to her chest and taking a deep breath, knowing she would be handling this question many times today. 

“The school was supposed to send out a letter, but perhaps not everyone got them in time. Miss Y/N accepted a job in another district. I hope that I can fill her shoes here…” 

Feeling like a truck had run him over, Seungcheol just nodded as Matthew looked up at him, confused. A small hand tugs at his jacket and Seungcheol nods once again before glancing down at his son, trying to smile at him even as Matthew frowns. 

“Uh, Miss Y/N is teaching other kids, buddy.” 

“No! Daddy!” 

Hearing his son cry was one of the most painful things that Seungcheol could experience. He knew it wouldn’t be the last time, and it hadn’t been the first by a long shot, but there was so much heartbreak in his sobs. Moving to his knees in front of Matthew, Seungcheol controls his own emotions as he wipes tears away and shushes the little boy to calm him down. 

“It’s okay. Mrs. Lim seems so nice and I’m sure you two will get along.” 

Pulling back from Seungcheol, Matthew sniffs hard, talking between sobs as big tears roll down his cheeks, meeting his dad’s fingers.

“Did I make Miss Y/N mad at me?”

Shaking his head quickly, Seungcheol pulls Matthew into his arms and closes his eyes, having an even harder time keeping himself in check. He was upset with you for not telling him, but he was even more upset with the fact that you felt like you had to leave. 

“Absolutely not. Miss Y/N adores you.” 

It takes a few more minutes before Matthew is calm enough that Seungcheol feels comfortable leaving. After apologizing to Mrs. Lim for the small outburst on behalf of his son, Seungcheol moves out into the hall and leans against the wall to catch his breath. 

Running his fingers through his hair, he shakes his head and sniffs back his own tears that had threatened to fall when he hears a familiar voice. Glancing to his left, all Seungcheol sees is red. His feet moving quicker than his brain, Seungcheol pushes his forearm against Alex’s chest as the man’s back hits the wall with a dull thud. Only the sound of a gasp from another teacher is heard over Alex’s grunt before he tells the woman it’s fine. 

“It’s not fine... what the fuck did you do? What did you do that made her leave?”

Scoffing through a bit of pain, Alex meets Seungcheol’s eyes and there is pain and hurt in both. The hurt in Alex’s eyes only serves to piss off Seungcheol more as he pushes harder against the man’s body, feeling his hand grasp at his wrist. 

“I—get off me. I don’t have to tell the fake boyfriend anything.”

Leaning back only to push against Alex harder so that his head hits the wall, Seungcheol watches the man’s mouth fall open in pain as he hears the sound of the security guard moving towards them. Taking a step back, he holds up his hands, showing them he’s done before he grabs him. 

“You don’t know anything about Y/N and you don’t know a damn thing about me and her.” Pointing towards Alex as the guard puts his hand around his forearm, Seungcheol scoffs, keeping his ground. “Stay away from Y/N and if you ever touch Matthew again, I won’t need to file a report with the school. You got it?” 

Rubbing the back of his head, Alex winces and narrows his eyes at Seungcheol. It had all been grounds for him to let them drag Seungcheol out of the school until his kid was mentioned. Now Alex needed to save face. No, nothing had happened, but he had crossed the line multiple times with you and by approaching a student that wasn’t his, he had already been warned by the administration. 

“Let him go. Everything is fine. Just a misunderstanding. We are fine… We understand one another, I can promise you that.” 

Feeling the hand on his arm relax, Seungcheol scoffs at how quick Alex’s mood shifts. He was pathetic and he could understand why you wanted nothing to do with him. Giving the man one more look of contempt, Seungcheol shakes his head and moves for the main doors, letting them slam behind him. 

Rolling your head from side to side, you rub your neck as you let out a soft sigh. You were tired after a long day and a longer commute than you were used to at your new school. The students were great but they weren’t the same. The entire day, you found yourself missing your students, as you had to check name tags to remember who you were speaking to. 

It would just take some getting used to. This was the best decision. It was easier for everyone to do it this way. It didn’t matter that you looked for Matthew in the circle of children on the reading rug only to be disappointed when you couldn’t find his sweet gummy smile and his kind eyes looking back up at you. Your heart would heal. 

Taking your keys out of your purse as the elevator stops on your floor, you keep your eyes down until you are almost at your door. Seeing shoes on your welcome mat facing you makes you stop in your tracks and causes your eyes to slowly lift to meet Seungcheol’s as he rests against your door with a frown on his face. 

You had done such a good job of avoiding him and Matthew. Sure, there had been a few times you had found yourself turning on your toes and heading in the other direction, but you had done that to make things easier for everyone. Looking at Seungcheol now, making eye contact with him, you knew there was no running away. 

“Um… Hey.” 

Seungcheol had hoped for more after not talking to you for so long, but he would take what he could get. He knew he was putting you on the spot; clearly, there was no other way to get you to talk to him. 

“Hey. So, I, uh, I took Matthew to school this morning and needless to say, we were both a little shocked and—fuck, I won’t even lie, we were heartbroken when you weren’t there. You quit?” 

Taking a deep breath, you look at your keys in your hand as Seungcheol speaks. Learning that he and Matthew were hurt by your absence makes your stomach feel queasy, but you try to stand your ground and keep yourself somewhat stoic as you nod. 

“Sorry, I got an offer about an hour away and I felt that I should take it. Ya know, it’s better—”

“For who?” 

Being interrupted by Seungcheol, you meet his eyes once again and let out a breath through your nose before looking off to the side. You didn’t want to look him in the eye and try to explain—or lie about this. It was hard enough trying to convince yourself every day in the mirror. 

“For everyone, Seungcheol. I can’t work there anymore. I didn’t want to ruin things for Matthew or you. I couldn’t be around Alex anymore.” 

Stepping away from the door, taking a step towards you, Seungcheol reaches out to take your wrist into his hand, trying to get you to actually look at him. When you don’t instantly pull away, he lowers his head and leans to the right to make you meet his eyes as he speaks. The wet glaze over his eyes makes you feel like your heart is breaking all over again as your bottom lip quivers until you bite at it to force it to stop, once again forcing back any emotions that threaten to bubble to the surface. 

“Matthew isn’t happy without you, Y/N. Why in the hell would you think that he would be? He’s depressed without you at school and without you in his life. I don’t understand why you think he’d be better off without you around.” 

Sighing loudly, Seungcheol’s eyes drop to your bitten lip as you try to keep your tears back. He can see them on the rims of your eyes and he knows that you understand, even if you won’t say it. 

“My son loves you. Don’t you get that? I lov—fuck… I need you in my life, Y/N. When I found out about you quitting I saw Alex and I confronted him. I told him to stay the fuck away from you, away from us.” 

Shaking your head, you pull your arm from Seungcheol’s, feeling his fingers chase after yours as he whines your name under his breath. You can hear and feel the desperation behind his voice and it makes you want to make it better, but you don’t think he even understands what he’s saying to you or what he’s done. 

“You shouldn’t have done that, Seungcheol. There’s no point. It was wrong of me to put myself into your life and into Matthew’s life. This is what I do. Don’t you get that? I disappoint people. Please let me—let me go. You don’t get it.” 

Frustration rises in Seungcheol as you speak and as he watches your tears run down your cheeks. You were the one who didn’t get it. You thought this was just pretty words and a dream but to him, it was so much more. You were so much more. 

Sliding his hand along your cheek to push away your tears, Seungcheol whispers your name as you let out a soft sob. Wanting to make you see what he feels, he cups your face in his palm and brushes his lips against yours, feeling you stiffen in his grasp for only a second before you relax. His kiss not only stuns you but it also takes your breath away. Your tears flow even more freely as Seungcheol’s fingers brush at your skin and his lips move over yours until he finally pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. 

“Do you understand now?” 

Wrapping your fingers around Seungcheol’s wrist, you sniff back tears as you lean your head back from his and shake your head. 

“It won’t work, Seungcheol.” 

Walking you towards the wall, Seungcheol shakes his head in return before leaning to kiss your cheek and tasting your tears on his lips. 

"Yes, it will. It has to. I want it to… so fucking bad, baby. You feel like my missing piece. Y/N, you’re my somebody. Let me prove it to you.”

Seungcheol cups your face with both of his hands as you push your front door closed, letting him once again walk you backwards until your back is flush against the wall. The only difference this time is that it’s your lips that meet his first. You feel his fingers slide along the side of your head as he deepens the kiss, his tongue gliding into your mouth to mesh with your tongue before he groans, feeling your fingers grasp at his sides over his t-shirt. 

This was everything Seungcheol had pictured for days, if not weeks, after being around you. He had wanted to kiss you that night when the two of you had shared wine on his couch. He had wanted to ask you to stay the night after dinner so that he could make love to you, and now he had you in his hands. 

Sliding one hand along your neck, Seungcheol breaks the kiss long enough to meet your eyes, checking for any hesitation as his other hand moves to your hips and tugs them flush with his own. The only look in your eyes is one of desperation and desire. He wasn’t the only one who had wanted this, he had just been better at admitting it to himself than you had. Now that it was real and in front of you, your brain was in a frenzy. 

“You’re so beautiful—so fucking beautiful. Wanted this… God, I’ve wanted it since I laid eyes on you. Wanna make you mine.” 

Seungcheol’s hand moves back to your face, resting on your jaw so that his thumb can brush over your bottom lip, tugging it down as you whimper. There truly was nothing better than this. No art in any museum could compare to you. No artist would ever capture that look in your eyes, the bitten look of your lips, or the desire that was burning in you for Seungcheol. 

“Please? Please, Cheol…” 

Nodding, Seungcheol groans under his breath as you beg him to do what he wants. Glancing away from you, he gestures towards the hall in hopes that his guess of the layout of your apartment wasn’t too far off. 

“Yeah, second door.” 

Smiling at your pretty voice, Seungcheol leans down to capture your lips once again as his hands move from your face and hips to wrap around your thighs right under your ass. Feeling your arms wrap around his neck in surprise, he grins on your lips and lifts you with little effort, even as you gasp. 

“Seungcheol, oh my god, I can walk.” 

Clinging to Seungcheol, you watch as he shakes his head, walking you towards your bedroom. His strong hands are under you, holding you close to his body with each step. 

“What’s the fun in that, baby? Let me have this, okay?” 

Stepping into your room, Seungcheol only glances around for a second before his lips are back on yours and he takes another step towards your bed, only to sit down, allowing you to rest on his lap. Your cheeks were hot with how flustered you felt, not only about being carried to your room but about how you could already feel Seungcheol’s cock between your legs. Letting out a shaky breath on his lips, you hold onto Seungcheol’s shoulders as you give into your desire and rest your knees on either side of his legs. Rolling your hips over the bulge in his jeans and earning you a deep groan from his throat, Seungcheol leans his head back and presses his fingers into the swell of your ass through your pants. 

“Shit… that—that feels so good. It’s been a long time for me, Y/N.” 

Nodding, you slide your fingers from Seungcheol’s shoulder along his neck and up to his face to tilt it back towards you so you can meet his eyes as you roll your hips over him once again. You feel your own arousal beginning to soak through your panties, causing them to stick to your folds, a soft whine slipping from between your lips as your brows furrow. 

��That’s okay. It’s been a while for me too, Cheol.” 

It might be selfish of him, but Seungcheol thinks at that moment that if he had his way, he might be your last. He would be all you’d ever need. You’d never want to look for anyone else. All he needed to do was prove that to you. 

Smiling into a soft groan, he groans as his brows furrow, feeling your fingernails press into his shoulders over his shirt. Seungcheol leans his head back and your lips against his throat has his eyes closing and his fingers tightening on your hips, pulling you down over his lap. Sliding his hands upwards, Seungcheol whispers your name as your lips move along his jaw and his head almost becomes cloudy with thoughts of putting your back on the bed and having his way with you. 

“Y/N… fuck. I need to see you. Can I? Can I see you?” 

Nodding, you lean back from him, letting his fingers work up your sides, pushing your shirt up as he goes. Brown eyes take in every new inch of skin exposed to him as Seungcheol furrows his brows and whispers out soft praises for you. He tells you how beautiful you are, how perfect you are, and how much he cares about you, all before pulling your shirt up and over your head and tossing it behind you into the floor. 

Your cheeks burn at his attention as Seungcheol smiles at you, his fingers once again on your body. You can’t help the way that you gasp and shift in his lap as his fingers walk along your flesh, leaving goosebumps behind his path. 

Shifting your shoulders forward, you feel your bra straps fall down your arms when Seungcheol’s fingers work the clasps open at the middle of your back. The garment gives way and you feel warm breath fanning across your skin before soft plush kisses move from your shoulder to the center of your chest. 

Letting your bra fall into your lap, you slide your fingers into Seungcheol’s hair as his name slips from between your lips like a prayer or a hymn. You didn’t have much doubt that he would have been good at this, but it was still surprising at how much attention he was giving you and how he was taking his time—even if you wanted more and more quickly. 

Tugging at his hair, you whine almost in frustration as you feel his lips brush over your nipple, only for Seungcheol to pull away and place a kiss in the same place on your other breast. You were so aroused—so wet—that you felt like you could cum untouched on his lap, but every single teasing touch kept you right on the edge. 

“Cheol… please? I need more… Give me more.” 

He wanted to give you more. He wanted to see more, but tasting your skin was like tasting sugar for the first time. The salt in your skin was addictive. The smell of your body wash, the perfume that you used... even the laundry detergent that you chose was like the perfect mix to keep him dazed. It’s only your voice that brings him back to the present and reminds him what he’s supposed to do. 

Standing with you secure in his arms, Seungcheol quickly turns to lay you on your bed so he can hover over you. The feeling is instantly different. You had known that he was a large man and that he worked hard in the gym, but having him on top of you like this made it even more obvious how small you were compared to him. 

Letting his eyes move over your face for a moment as your eyes widen, Seungcheol smirks slightly, trailing his fingers along your stomach to the clasp of your jeans. Working them open, he watches you bite your bottom lip and all he can think is how he wants to do that for you, how he’d do anything for you if you asked him to. It could be in this bed or the most simple domestic task and he would make it happen. 

When Seungcheol’s palm presses to your abdomen and his fingers work their way into your jeans past your panties, you can’t help the small, surprised gasp that escapes from behind your lips. Your hips lift and Seungcheol’s middle finger barely presses between your folds, brushing over your clit, and it’s almost enough to make you want to scream his name. 

You didn’t remember being this easy to please, but perhaps it wasn’t even that… no, perhaps it was Seungcheol touching you. Maybe it was his fingers sliding against your wet folds and parting them so that he can circle your entrance with that same middle finger. It was because this time you were with the man you had spent hours trying to avoid picturing spending your life with and now he was groaning your name, feeling your slick arousal coating his fingers for the first time. 

“Baby, oh my god, Y/N.” Seungcheol feels his mouth water as he feels his fingers slipping through your soft, wet folds. He just shakes his head as he tries to angle his hand in your tight jeans to press his finger into you, only to whine in frustration when he can’t. “Gotta get these off. Wanna taste you… gotta open you up, baby girl.” 

Smiling as you run your fingers through Seungcheol’s hair, hearing him whine, you lower your eyes to his hands as he tugs at your jeans, working them down your legs. There was this amazing juxtaposition when it came to him. You had just felt so small under him and now you were listening to him whine and talk with a pout on his lips as he tried to pull your pants off while still talking to you with such a dirty mouth. 

Grinning to himself as he drops your jeans on the floor next to the bed, Seungcheol glances up at you before he wraps his arms under your thighs and scoots you up in the bed suddenly. Gasping his name, you grab at his shirt out of surprise, feeling it pull up his body as he meets your eyes again with a raised brow. 

“Can’t have you falling off the bed. Do you want my shirt? You can have it, sweetheart.” 

Your eyes follow Seungcheol’s hand as he reaches over his shoulder to tug at his shirt, pulling it up over his head with one swift movement. There were many ways to remove a shirt but that had to be the sexiest way you had ever seen. Trying to push your thighs together, you find you can’t as Seungcheol’s knee rests between them, drawing his eyes down to your legs as he hands you his shirt. 

“Fuck… look at you.” 

Hissing out a moan, you clench your fingers around Seungcheol’s shirt and lift your hips when he pushes his thumb against the center of your panties, where the cloth was sticking to your skin. This wasn’t what you meant by giving you more, but any complaints can’t make it out of your mouth as Seungcheol smirks at you, one hand resting on the bed next to your hip and the other staying between your legs. 

Brushing his knuckles over your wet panties, he lets out a breath before pulling them to the side and letting out a deep groan at the sight. He knew you were wet. He had felt it on his fingers and it was easy to see even through your panties, but seeing your glistening skin was another thing entirely. 

“So pretty… you’re so wet, baby girl. Is it uncomfortable?” 

Nodding, you close your eyes tightly, feeling tears threatening to spill over the rims of your eyes from just anticipation. 

“Yes, Cheol…” 

A soft, sweet, faux cooing sound slips from his lips before Seungcheol lowers himself down between your legs to run his tongue over your soft folds. Grunting to the taste, he furrows his brows and wraps his fingers around your panties tighter, keeping them to the side as he wraps his free arm around your hip, tugging you closer to his mouth. One simple taste wasn’t nearly enough, it was only enough to make him feel feral with desire for you and for him to want to bury his face between your legs for the rest of his life. 

Bringing Seungcheol’s shirt up to your mouth, you bite down on the cotton to muffle your moans. Your eyes close tightly, tears running from your eyes and towards your hairline as Seungcheol’s lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks hard and groans, sending a vibration through your body. You feel yourself clench around nothing until he runs his tongue along your folds, massaging them, pulling them into his mouth and finally pressing his tongue into your needy hole. 

“Seungcheol!” 

The shirt falls from your lips as you scream his name, feeling the pressure that has been building in your abdomen and threatening to overflow. Seungcheol’s lips pull up ever so slightly, even as he nudges his nose against your clit and fucks you with his tongue, feeling you clench around the muscle. 

He wanted you to cum for him. He needed it more than he needed water to survive the desert. You were all that made sense right now, and getting you to bliss was the answer to everything. 

Sliding his hand from around your hip, Seungcheol grunts under his breath as he leans back, face wet with your slick. Spitting on your entrance, he works two of his fingers into your velvet walls, watching you arch your back off the bed. 

“There you go, baby.” 

He could feel you clamping down around his fingers as you became impossible wetter, your cum seeping around his fingers with each deep thrust. 

“Oh my god, Cheol...”

Smiling against your inner thigh, Seungcheol glances up at you to meet your eyes as he carefully slides his fingers out of you, feeling your walls pulse around them. He wanted more, but even if you decided that you couldn’t handle more or that you didn’t want more, seeing you like that would be enough. 

Reaching out for him, you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling instantly frustrated at the feeling of his jeans against your skin. The only thing that makes it better is his soft, plush lips on yours. You try to think quickly of anything better than Choi Seungcheol’s kiss—the way he would smile against your mouth before licking into it with a groan—and nothing comes to mind. Muttering into the kiss, you drag your fingers along his sides, feeling him shiver under your hands before he leans back to look down at you with want in his eyes. 

“Off, take them off. Want—I want you. Please?” 

At first, when you say off, Seungcheol’s heart almost drops into his stomach. He thinks that you really have had enough of him for the night, but then your nails tug at the top of his jeans and a smile pulls at his pretty lips. 

“Anything you want... fuck, Y/N. I’d give you the world.” 

Sucking on your bottom lip, you feel heat rising in your cheeks and along your chest and neck at Seungcheol’s words. You had fallen deep and hard for this man and he was a romantic. You weren’t going to get out of this without a few scars or in one piece, but now you weren’t sure if you wanted to. 

Watching him closely, your eyes follow Seungcheol as he slides off the bed to push his jeans down along with his boxers, leaving him naked in front of you. Bringing your fingers up to your already bitten lips, you turn on your side and press your cheek against your arm, trying to hide your reaction, but the look on Seungcheol’s face tells you that you haven’t gotten off that easily. 

Moving back to you, he runs his hand up the length of your leg, stopping at your hip as he tilts his head to meet your eyes, his other hand pulling your fingers from your lips. Seungcheol watches as your lips fall open on a soft, breathy gasp of his name when he guides your hand to his cock. With your hand in his, he guides your palm over the head of his length before wrapping your fingers around his shaft and dragging your hand from tip to base. 

“This okay?”

Nodding quickly, you whine, feeling Seungcheol thrust his hips gently towards your hand as he lets go of yours in place of running his fingers over your head, a groan slipping from his lips. He didn’t want to get off like this, and he wouldn’t, but with how you had been looking at him—a mixture of lust and surprise—Seungcheol wanted to make sure you knew what was going inside of you. 

Your eyes stay on his face for a moment longer before they drop to your hand and Seungcheol’s cock in your hand. It wasn’t as if you couldn’t tell he was big, but feeling and seeing were different stories. It wasn’t length but girth. He was thick enough that you could already imagine the stretch and found yourself thanking him in your mind for making you cum first. 

“Sh—shit baby… I gotta stop you.” 

Putting his hand back over yours, Seungcheol licks his lips and moves your hand from his leaking cock as it twitches, almost begging you for more. He already felt so close. Just looking at you, fucking you with his tongue, and feeling you on his fingers had been enough to make him feel like he was going to cum, but now your hand on him? He was lucky he didn’t cum the second he put your fingers around his cock. 

“Fuck me, Cheol.” 

Your voice is timid and almost a whisper but Seungcheol can hear it. Furrowing his brows, he licks his lips once more before shaking his head and this time your heart sinks before he speaks and slides his hand between your legs, parting them so he can once again run his fingers through your already swollen, wet folds. 

“No… I’m not going to fuck you, baby girl.” Grinning as you start to pout and whine in protest, Seungcheol leans to kiss your lips as he pushes two fingers into you, feeling you arch off the bed. “I’m gonna make love to you. There’s a difference.” 

Gasping on his lips, you hold on to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin as Seungcheol rocks his fingers back against your spot, feeling you clench down over them once again. When you throw your head back, cum once again coating his fingers, Seungcheol groans, leaning to press his lips to the column of your throat, feeling your swallow hard under his kiss. 

“That’s it, such a good girl. You feel good?”

Out of breath, you nod weakly as Seungcheol looks down at you, sliding his fingers out of you. 

“That’s all I want, baby…” 

Glancing around the room, Seungcheol leans his head on his arm before taking a breath and wincing a bit before asking you what he had been mildly dreading from the moment this had begun. He knew it could make or break the moment, but it was important. 

“I didn’t bring anything with me with the assumption that something like this was happening. 

Fuck, I mean, I don’t even think I have condoms at my place. Do you have anything?” 

Smiling as you bite your lips, you run your fingers over Seungcheol’s cheek before tracing his lips, feeling him press a kiss to your fingers. 

“I’m on birth control, Cheol. It’s fine.” 

Taking a deep breath against your fingers, Seungcheol nods, feeling the pressure melt away as you run your knee along his outer thigh up to his hip. He hated the idea of disappointing you after making a big promise like he had, but now the pressure was taken over by desire. It was an honor to be in your bed in the first place, but like this? His head was spinning.

Sliding his fingers along your bent leg, Seungcheol leans into your hand as you cup his cheek before he turns to kiss your palm and nods, letting you know without words what he was doing. Gasping softly at the feeling of the tip of his cock running through your folds, you close your eyes and drop your hand to his shoulder as you push your head back into the pillow. Not even imagining the stretch could actually prepare you for the real thing as Seungcheol slowly eased inside of you bit by bit. 

“Oh my god.” The words fall from your lips like a prayer, tears finding your eyes again as the painful stretch is quickly replaced with pleasure. “Seungcheol… fuck. You’re…” 

The words get caught in your throat and Seungcheol looks up at you in concern, seeing tears running from your eyes. Running his fingers over your face, he stops moving and presses his lips to yours, only to feel you shake your head and lift your hips, trying to get more of him inside of you. 

“Ah—fuck, Y/N… I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Nodding, you capture Seungcheol’s lips, kissing him between words. 

“I’m okay. Feels so good, baby. Please give me more.” 

Hearing you call him baby left Seungcheol stunned and love struck. He pauses before feeling you once again lift your hips before you wrap your legs around his waist and whine his name on his lips. 

“Okay…okay. It’s just... call me that again? Please?” 

You hadn’t even realized what you had said until he asked for you to call him the pet name again. Opening your eyes as you press your head back into the pillow, you feel Seungcheol bottom out in you, the stretch so intense that you clench around him, earning yourself a well deserved groan from his chest. 

“Baby?” 

You watch as Seungcheol nods, another groan dripping from his lips like candy for you to collect. Smiling, you can’t hold back a soft moan as Seungcheol makes a shallow thrust and you feel full and complete. You find yourself wanting to always feel like this. Warm, full, and safe. 

“I—lo—” You struggle with your words as Seungcheol thrusts deep and harder, sending your head towards the headboard. Reaching back over your head, you hold on to the side of it and hum out another moan before nodding. “Just like that, baby. I’m so close. You’re right, there’s a difference.” 

Seungcheol smiles at your words as he leans down to press a kiss on your shoulder. He was hoping you hadn’t been upset with him for telling you he was going to make love to you. There would be plenty of time for him to fuck you later—at least he hoped so. If he got his way, this would be forever. He could already picture himself buying a ring and getting down on one knee. 

Shaking his head to push that thought from his head, not wanting to scare you away, Seungcheol nips at your neck and groans, feeling himself about to burst. He had already made you cum twice, but it was important to him that you were satisfied. He would do everything he could not to cum before you. 

Tugging one of your legs loose from his waist, Seungcheol meets your eyes as he slides his hand between your bodies and finds your folds. He watches as your mouth falls open as his fingertips rub in tight circles over your clit, all while his cock is buried deep inside of you until that cord that was winding in your abdomen snaps once again. 

“Yes…yes—oh fuck!” 

Your voice was like music and had to be what angels sound like. That was all Seungcheol could think of as you came on his cock. You were so tight before, but now, as you orgasmed for the third time with him inside of you, he had seen heaven, and he wasn’t sure how he survived you. 

“Please… now you. Cheol, baby… please?” 

You begging him to cum only solidified that he had to have died and gone to heaven because there was no way for him to resist you. There was no way for him to hold back. Groaning loudly against the crook of your neck, Seungcheol cums as he feels your thighs start to shake around him. 

Running your fingers through his sweaty, damp hair, you close your eyes and focus on catching your breath as Seungcheol rests over your body. He was afraid he was too heavy, but the moment he tried to move away from you, a small whine of protest had him staying right where he was. Placing small kisses on the top of your breasts, Seungcheol then glances up at you, seeing the bliss on your face and he can’t help but smile. 

“You are so beautiful.” 

Laughing softly, you open your eyes and look down at Seungcheol before lifting your hand to hide your face. There was no way you looked remotely beautiful at the moment. You knew you were sweaty and in desperate need of a shower and yet here was the most attractive man you had ever seen in your life, telling you that you were beautiful. 

Wrapping his hand gently around your wrist, Seungcheol pulls your hand from your face and kisses the back of it before bringing your palm to his chest. You feel his heart beating hard as he too works to catch his breath. 

“I’m serious, Y/N. I am so—shit I don’t want to scare you away, but I’m afraid if I don’t, I’ll lose you again. I’m in love with you.” 

Taking a sharp breath at Seungcheol’s confession, you glance up at the ceiling to avoid having to look at his eyes. A small frown replaces his smile as he hears your heart beat quicken in panic. He hadn’t wanted you to panic, but he knew it was a risk. Carefully sliding out of you and to your side, Seungcheol lifts your hand from his chest to his lips and kisses the back of your knuckles as you bite at your lips. 

“Y/N, baby, please look at me? I wanna talk about this. I know you feel something for me or else we wouldn’t be in this bed.” 

Pushing your thighs together, feeling even more sticky and sweaty, you feel yourself becoming even more self conscious until you meet Seungcheol’s eyes and see the concerned look on his face. You didn’t want to hurt him again. You had spent so much of your life running and once you had a good thing, it bit you in the ass. So now that you had walls that he had taken a sledgehammer to, it was terrifying. 

“I—you’re right. I do feel something for you. I feel a lot of things. I’m just so fucking scared, Seungcheol. What if we mess this up? I don’t—” 

Closing your eyes, your words end on a sob as your emotions get the better of you. Moving to pull you into his arms, Seungcheol shakes his head and shushes you before kissing the side of your head, letting you continue.

“I can’t hurt Matthew. I love him so much. I know I shouldn’t. It’s not proper for a teacher to have a favorite like that.” 

Smiling against your head, Seungcheol takes a deep breath and places another kiss before shaking his head. 

“I don’t think it has anything to do with being his teacher or a teacher in general. I think—and you can tell me to shove it up my ass if I’m out of line, but I think it has to do with just love in general. You are maternal, Y/N.” 

Swallowing hard, you hold onto Seungcheol’s forearm as you think through what he has said. 

There was a part of you that did want to tell him to shove it, but a larger part that knew he wasn’t wrong. You had pictured far too often a life with them that wasn’t just being Matthew’s teacher. 

“I feel like I should apologize for that or something.” 

Leaning back to look down at you, Seungcheol moves his hand to tilt your chin up so you will look at him. Furrowing his brow, he shakes his head and the look in his eyes is the most serious you have seen in the entire night. 

“Never apologize for loving my son. He loves you too.” 

The words go straight to your heart and tears stream down your face. You picture Matthew’s sweet smile as you close your eyes and you know you have to ask about him. 

“I—okay. Can I—can I ask how he’s doing?” 

Pulling you back to his chest, Seungcheol leans against your headboard and leans his head back against it with a soft sigh. 

“He’s sad, baby. He misses you. He doesn’t like school as much, even if Mrs. Lim is a decent teacher. He asked if you didn’t like him anymore and that was why you had to teach other little kids.” 

Seungcheol knew the truth of what Matthew had been dealing with would hurt you, but it was something that you needed to know. He could have sugar coated it, but when it came to his son and how he was feeling, that was something Seungcheol would never do. He isn’t surprised when he feels your body shake against his. It breaks his heart to feel your tears against his chest as you turn in his arms to be held tighter. 

“I can’t go back to that—to that school, Cheol. I didn't…  I’m the fucking worst.” 

Shushing you, Seungcheol kisses the top of your head as tears sit on the rims of his eyes, feeling your heartbreak and his own for his son. 

“I know it wasn’t just about us. That wasn’t why you left. What’s done is done. You aren’t the worst; don’t talk about yourself like that. All we need to do is talk to Matthew about it. He will understand.” 

"Alright, listen, if your dad asks about the weekend, what are you gonna say?” 

Jeonghan lifts a brow as he looks down at Matthew on his right. The little boy’s hand in his as he smiles up at him. It had taken a lot to get that smile on his face and he was proud to see it. Between him and Joshua, a weekend of trash tv, and all the worst foods you could feed a child, he was finally seeing the Matthew he knew. 

“That Uncle Jeonghan and Uncle Shua let me watch edgeucational things only on TV.” 

Clicking his tongue as he winks at his godson, Jeonghan fishes his key for Seungcheol’s apartment out of his pocket and pushes the door open. Shifting the overnight bag on his shoulder, he doesn’t glance up until he hears Matthew gasp in surprise. The sound scares him, his eyes widening as the boy takes off, running towards the living room and drawing his eyes in that direction. 

“What! What’s wrong?” 

It’s when he sees you sitting on the couch with Seungcheol that it makes sense. He watches as Matthew wraps his arms around your neck, the sad expression on your face and tears in your eyes as you wrap your arms around the child, pulling him into your lap. 

Meeting Seungcheol’s eyes, Jeonghan lifts his brows and gets a grin back as an answer. Shaking his head, Jeonghan drops the bag from his shoulder onto the couch and lets out a low, deep sigh. It had taken long enough, but clearly things had worked out the way they were supposed to. He just wished it had happened sooner and not at the expense of Matthew’s happiness. At least he could relish in the happy look on his face now, that was making up for almost all of it. 

“Well then, I was going to see if you needed me to stay for a bit today, but clearly...” 

Rolling his eyes, Seungcheol stands up to hug Jeonghan, whispering that he will explain everything later. Glancing back to you and Matthew, he presses his lips together as you nod along with Matthew’s story about his weekend with Uncle Jeonghan and Joshua, letting him have a moment to walk Jeonghan to the door. 

“Yeah, I wanna know all the juicy details. Jihoon owes me 100 bucks.” 

Grinning as Seungcheol makes a face of disgust, Jeonghan waves at you and Matthew before walking out the door, leaving the three of you to yourself. Leaning against the wall, Seungcheol watches for a moment longer, his lip caught between his teeth as you run your fingers through Matthew’s hair lovingly while you explain the new job. 

“But, I’ll still see you all the time. I promise, okay? I just have to help other kids for the rest of the year.” 

Pouting a bit, Matthew wraps his hand around yours, pulling it into his lap before nodding. 

“Mmkay… as long as you come over all the time.” 

Smiling a bit sheepishly as he looks from you to his dad and back, Matthew kicks his legs and giggles, making you tilt your head as Seungcheol moves to the couch to sit next to you. 

“Daddy, does this mean that Miss Y/N can be my mommy now?” 

Blanching slightly, Seungcheol’s mouth falls open as he looks at you, watching your lips press together. Meeting his son’s eyes, he tries to speak before laughing and rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Uh, that’s adult business, son. I don’t know. Maybe one day. You know if Y/N will have your daddy as a husband.” 

Looking away to hide your embarrassed smile, you clear your throat as Matthew giggles once again and slides from your arms to his dad’s. 

“I think that’s a yes. All the boys on the TV show Uncle Shua liked got down on their knees and just asked. Most of the girls said yes, even though they were behind a wall!” 

His eyes widening, Seungcheol looks at you as you laugh and brings your fingers to your lips before speaking. 

“I thought you said you guys watched educational videos?” 

Looking down at his hands, realizing he had said too much, Matthew grins and shrugs. 

“I didn’t say nothing.” 

Eyes narrowing, Seungcheol presses his fingers into his son’s side, tickling him as he shakes his head. 

“I need to have a talk with your uncles about teaching you how to lie and letting you watch garbage.” 

Smiling, you watch the two people you love the most as they laugh and end up hugging when Seungcheol kisses Matthew’s cheek. You could get used to seeing this every day. 

You had thought that after you had helped Seugcheol get Matthew to bed, you might sneak back to your apartment, but then he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and pouted. That was how you ended up on his bed, his lips on your neck as you whined softly, doing your best to keep your voice down, feeling him smile against your skin. 

“Seung–Seungcheol, please. I’m trying to be quiet. I’m not sure I can do this. What if we wake up, Matthew? How do we even explain—” 

Leaning back, Seungcheol meets your eyes and purses his lips before sliding off the bed and offering you his hand. Taking a breath to calm down, you put your fingers on his and let him guide you off the bed and towards the connected ensuite. 

“We don’t have to explain anything, baby. He’s a heavy sleeper, but if you are worried.” 

Leaning against the counter of the double sink, you watch as Seungcheol leans into the glass shower to turn it on. The sound of water fills your ears and you smile as the man you had grown to adore beyond words looks back at you for praise as if he had just moved the earth for you. 

“Smart…” 

Nodding along with your words, Seungcheol moves back over to you, sliding the skirt of your sundress up your legs to your hips. 

“I mean, I am a doctor. It’s a requirement.” 

Smacking his chest, you listen to Seungcheol’s laugh and it makes you feel warm and safe. Lifting your arms, you let him quickly undress you, dropping your dress on the counter before he takes a knee and hooks his fingers into your panties, shimmying them down your legs. 

“You don’t look half bad on your knee, Dr. Choi.” 

Seungcheol lifts his brow, a smirk pulling at one side, before he leans to press a kiss to your leg, discarding your panties to the side. You run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips on your skin, chill bumps spreading under his kisses. 

“You like me on my knee? Wanna see me like this again?” 

Your cheeks burning, you bite at your lips and hide your smile as you look away from his eyes as Seungcheol looks up at you before rising to his feet once again. Turning your head back towards him, Seungcheol brushes his lips over yours as steam starts to fill the room. He could feel the warmth on your cheeks under his fingers as he ran his thumb along your cheekbone towards your hairline. 

“Hm? I asked you something, baby girl.” 

Whining his name, you take a breath as Seungcheol takes a step back to tug off his shirt and quickly get rid of his pants and boxers before offering you his hand once again. 

“You can’t ask me things like that. It’s too soon.” 

Shaking his head, Seungcheol leads you towards the shower, opening the door for you and following you inside. His eyes move along your body as the water hits your skin and you lean your head back into the stream of water with a smile on your face. Lifting his free hand, Seungcheol runs it between your breasts and down your stomach as the smile on his lips grows. 

“Too soon for what? For me to already be thinking about wanting to marry you? Shit, I was thinking about that the night we drank wine until 2 in the morning on my couch.” 

Licking water from your lips, you lift your head to look at Seungcheol as he speaks to you. His words make you feel hot and almost speechless. He had wanted you for that long? He had wanted you that way for that long. 

Meeting your eyes for a second, Seungcheol lets out a soft hum of appreciation at the dazed look on your face before his middle finger drags between your folds and your knees buckle. Quickly wrapping his arm around your waist, he groans as he turns your back towards the shower wall and lets you rest against it. 

“I’m in it for the long haul, baby. I think you know that. Is that something you’d want? Hm? What was Matthew asking earlier? To be his mommy?” 

Your lips fall open in a moan of Seungcheol’s name as you feel two of his fingers hook into you and his palm rests against your clit. Lifting your leg, you wrap one around his waist, letting him keep you upright as you try to think straight, only managing to babble incoherently. You weren’t sure how he wanted you to think clearly and come up with logical words when his fingers were so deep in you. 

“Tell me… I really wanna know. Doesn’t mean it’s gonna happen tonight, but... I won’t lie, thinking about you like that—as my wife…” You feel Seungcheol shiver as a grin pulls at his lips against your jaw. “It turns me on.” 

You knew Seungcheol was romantic and now you knew he had particular kinks. God you were in trouble. You were in trouble of being in constant pleasure if you did end up being this man's wife. Holding onto Seungcheol’s biceps, you whisper his name as his lips brush against yours before nodding and feeling him nod in return. 

“You do? Yeah? Can you say it for me? I wanna hear it. Indulge me, sweetheart.” 

Whining, you lean your head back against the shower wall as you feel yourself starting to fall over the edge. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes from pleasure as you whimper and your mouth falls open, cum slipping down Seungcheol’s fingers as you moan out the words he wants to hear. 

“I would; I would wanna be your wife, Cheol. I love you.” 

Bracing himself against the wall, palm flat against it, Seungcheol groans, feeling himself unable to hold back. It’s not everything he has to give you, but you are surprised to feel warm cum on your stomach, drawing your eyes downward. 

“Oh, my god...”

Sighing, Seungcheol laughs, a bit embarrassed, before pushing off the wall and sliding his fingers out of you. Wiping his mouth clean of water, he uses his other hand to hold your leg to his hip as before, stroking his still hard cock a couple times and lining himself up with your eager pussy. 

“I told you I liked the idea of it. I love you, too. Fuck…” 

The last word out of Seungcheol’s mouth is drawn out as he slips himself inside of you with some effort. In this position, you were even tighter than he was used to. He had taken you to bed a few times over the weekend, but never like this and you had never sucked his cock in like you were trying to milk him dry. 

Holding your hip tightly, Seungcheol meets your eyes as you let out a soft gasp, feeling his hips meet yours. At this angle, you felt like he was going to tear you apart, but you weren’t complaining. There was bad pain, and then there was this. This was that sweet, satisfying pain that led to so much pleasure that you saw stars, and you were starting to see them. 

Lips meeting yours, Seungcheol groans into the kiss as he grinds his hips against yours, finding it harder to move after a few deep thrusts when you clamp down over him and cum once again. Scratching at his wet skin, you bite down into his bottom lip before leaning back from his kiss to pant out his name when Seungcheol groans so deep it sounds like a growl. 

He had made love to you before; there had truly been a difference between that and now. The way his fingers were bruising your hips and the way his hips were slapping against yours—now he was fucking you. You knew you wouldn’t be able to tell him which way you preferred, even as you watched his mouth fall open as he cums once again, this time filling you and pushing it out with each deep thrust. 

“Holy shit, baby.” 

Furrowing your brows, you let out a soft gasp as Seungcheol slips from you and lowers your leg safely back to the floor. Keeping your back to the wall, you take a few deep breaths, feeling his fingers running along your sides as his lips press to your throat, up your jaw, and finally to your lips before you smile. 

“That was…” 

Nodding to agree with you, Seungcheol laughs against your lips before taking a step back to step under the showerhead, feeling the warm water run over his body. Opening your eyes, you can’t help the way you shyly look at him before laughing and looking away, making him grin as he reaches for his shampoo with a tilt of his head. 

“What? Are you shy now? Is this about being in the shower with me or, uh, wife talk?” 

Wrinkling your nose, you knock your head back against the shower wall before pushing off of it and towards Seungcheol. Watching him follow you with curious eyes, you sigh and lift your arms to run your fingers through his hair, spreading around the shampoo as you speak, feeling his hands running over your hips. 

“The last part. It is a little fast. but I—is it bad that I like it too? Maybe I want that? Not now!” You are quick to add on the last to your sentence, making Seungcheol laugh before he leans his head back into the water, washing out the shampoo from his hair. “Just in the future, with you?” 

Taking a breath, Seungcheol runs his fingers through his hair and then holds on to your waist, switching positions under the shower head to let you stand there as he grabs body wash to start spreading it over your body slowly. 

“Not at all. I want it... in the future.” 

Smiling brightly, Seungcheol meets your eyes as you whine, feeling overwhelmed. Leaning to kiss your nose, he sighs and spreads the soapy water along your body as he nods. 

“Did I ever tell you that if I got married again, I’d love to have my honeymoon in Barcelona?” 

He was great at breaking the tension. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled up at your lips or the laugh that spilled from between them as you shook your head, turning in his arms to let him wash your back. 

“No? Well, that’s my dream destination. I’ve never been, and what better place to go with my bride?” 

READ THE BONUS ON PATREON

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[ssorenz]

F*CK ME LIKE YOU MAD AT ME BABY!!

pairings (separate) ୨ৎ : toji fushiguro x reader, gojo satoru x reader, choso kamo x reader, suguru geto x reader

contains ୨ৎ : adult content (mdni), piv penetration, jealous/angry s*x, face sitting, c*nnilingus, overstim, car sex, squ*rting, edging, oral s*x (giving and receiving), pet names

a/n ୨ৎ : i might make a part 2 w/ sukuna, higuruma, nanami and shoko (or others), but it depends on how well this does!! not proofread btw, i posted this while half asleep 👎

in honor of me hitting 300+!!

toji fushiguro—☆

“fuck did i tell you about hangin’ out with that— bastard?” toji emphasizes each of his words with a snap of his hips. deep, merciless strokes into that, slick, puffy cunt of yours.

it was tired, tired from all the abuse it had taken. toji managed to pull three— no, four orgasms out of you in the span of an hour.

impossible for some. but toji? never that. he knew you like the back of his hand.

which is exactly how he knew you’d be so gullible, so naive, towards your conniving coworker.

of course you didn’t notice when he’d take glances at your tits as they restrained in your uniform. of course, when he offered to take you out to restaurants, you thought of it as ‘strictly business’.

but of course, thats what toji was here for— to keep you in check.

“im, haah— m’sorry tojii!!” you choked out a pathetic sob, trying your best to find common ground with the man. this torture had gone on for.. god knows how long. your brain was too fuzzy to even attempt to recall what time it was.

“sorry, my ass. shoulda’ been sorry a long time ago, mama. s’too late for all that now..” he grunted in reply, still continuing the ungodly pace he was going at.

jackhammering himself into you at this point— his full, aching balls slapping against your wetness.

he had your back arched— face up, ass down, hands tied behind your back, bobbing up and down with each mean thrust. red marks ingrained into the fat of your hips from the way he hooked his nails into them, making sure you’d be unable to run from him.

and it wasn’t just your hips that were marked, oh no. the crook of your neck, just along your collarbone, the inner and outer regions of your plush thighs. toji made sure to mark you up real nice and good.

“if you were really sorry,” he continued. “you would’ve stopped fuckin’ talking to that asshole months ago. then he woulda never thought it was— shit, be so handsy wit’ ya’.”

as toji replayed the scene in his head, his strokes were even sharper, practically burying you into the mattress at this point. he remembered picking you up from work, in your blouse and short pencil skirt that rode up your ass.

your coworker stopped you before leaving though, exchanging a quick goodbye, and a ‘simple hug.’ atleast thats what you called it.

but having his hands around your waist, slowly inching towards the hem of your skirt was anything but simple.

“toji, please— m’ really sorry! didn’t know..” you almost incoherently babbled out. the way his cock repeatedly pummeled its way against your sweet spot, it had you dumb. stupid, even.

“ya’ never fuckin’ know, huh? poor thing..gotta protect you from these men out here, yeah? need me by your side at all times?” he cooed sarcastically as you frantically nodded in reply.

“need you, daddy. n-need you to protect me—”

toji chuckled darkly, almost feeling bad from how pathetic you looked, how pathetic you sounded. the way your eyes rolled back as he hit your g-spot over and over, or the helpless cries that left your mouth as he did so.

“good. n’ thats how it needs to stay, mama.”

satoru gojo—☆

satoru couldn’t wait. he physically could not wait until he got home. no no, he needed you now.

his hands were engulfed in your hair, grabbing a plentiful handful as he bobbed your head up and down, soft groans of pleasure emitting from his parted lips.

“you thought that shit you pulled today was funny, yeah? messy fuckin’ girl.”

gojo had a meeting earlier with the higher-ups, discussing training for his students. you were practically on your knees, begging to tag along. after some consideration, he obliged (of course)—after all, who’s he to deny his favorite girl?

unfortunately for you, the meeting was more boring than you thought. listening to their voices drone on for what felt like eternities made your head ache.

unfortunately for satoru though, you let boredom get to the best of you.

he looked so damn attractive next to you, so professional— like his whole demeanor changed. your mind couldn’t help but wander elsewhere. your hands couldn’t help but wander either, as they discreetly drifted to the middle of his lap.

gojo let out a soft groan as you began palming him through his slacks, but was quick to conceal it with a cough. he tried desperately not to react too visibly, but it was becoming increasingly tormenting with each passing moment.

finally, after what felt like an eternity for both of you (though likely only seconds), satoru couldn't contain himself any longer— interrupting the meeting abruptly by announcing that you both needed to leave early due "to personal matters." with that excuse out of the way, he dragged you out before anyone could question the sudden departure.

to be quite frank, it was hilarious. well, in your eyes atleast. for satoru…?

ah, not so much.

mascara ran down your cheeks, tears welling up—blurring your vision as you felt the tip of his cock hit your uvula over and over. you could feel it throbbing angrily in your mouth as your tongue slobbed around the base.

gojo continued thrusting his hips back and forth into your mouth, holding onto your hair tightly. looking up, you could see his eyes rolling to the back of his head, milky strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

even in his state, he still looked so dreamy.

satoru held you down, forcing you onto his base, your nose brushing against his well-kept happy trail. you choked, strings of drool pooling effortlessly down his cock. he let out a deep, throaty moan that seemed to reverberate inside the car. your mouth was so warm, so welcoming.

gojos thrusts intensified as he continued to recklessly pound himself into your slack jaw, the salty taste of his precum dribbling onto your tongue. he was close to cumming— you both knew it.

his movements became more shaky and jagged, sloppily going in and out of your mouth before stopping. before you knew it, sweet yet salty ropes of his essence painted the back of your throat— making you instinctively swallow. satoru quickly pulled out, resting his bare cock on your face as he felt another load arising.

and it did, painting your pretty face with his sticky, pearlescent seed.

gojo looked at the sight beneath him, cursing underneath his breath as he admired how good you looked. even covered in his cum, even with your hair all disheveled, you still looked amazing.

“a-acting out to get what you want— tsk, what a brat.” he teased, still recovering from his orgasm. typical gojo, even in his weakest moments, he never lost his charm nor attitude.

“well it worked, didn’t it?” you retorted, a sly smirk playing on your lips.

“i- uh. . . no comment.”

kamo choso—☆

choso was never the type to take his anger out on his loved ones, especially you.

the half curse, half human wasn’t unfamiliar with the feelings of anger and jealousy, although he never experienced the writhing feeling first hand.

but of course, there’s always a first time for everything.

“mine, mine, mine—“ choso whined, a series of breathless moans following soon after as he shamelessly pummeled into you. he had you in a nasty mating press as you lay flat on the bed, legs damn near reaching your ears.

“you’re my girlfriend, no one else’s. . . especially not— hngh, his.”

your male friend, who obviously had the hots for you. choso was baffled you couldn’t tell, as his flirtatious remarks and actions weren’t even that subtle.

the way he’d compliment your outfits, blatantly staring at your chest— especially when you wore lower cut tops. or when he’d ogle at your curves, licking his lips as his eyes rode up your thighs.

or like today, when he suggested you leave your boyfriend for him. now that, was choso’s last straw.

"you really shouuuld, ya know?" he slurred into your ear, clearly intoxicated from the drinks you both were sipping on. choso was just a few feet away in the living area, engrossed in some show he was watching. but his eyes flicked over to you occasionally, as he kept an eye on the situation.

"i mean, why are you even with him?" your friend continued, his voice a loud whisper, clearly thinking he was discreet. "you deserve someone who really appreciates you. someone like... me."

choso was enraged—he undeniably heard every word. someone who really appreciates you? the nerve.

standing up, he approached you two, shooting daggers into your friends wicked expression as he wrapped his muscular arm around your waist.

but that cockiness soon faltered after noticing your boyfriends deadly glare. your male friend started pathetically apologizing, claiming it was a ‘joke.’

but even choso knows that drunk words are sober thoughts.

“f-fuuck, ‘cho…he, aah— didnt mean it!”

“dont c-care…” he grunted, low and rough. his jagged, uncontrolled, breaths tickled against your skin as he nuzzled his way into the crook of your neck. “i appreciate you more than he, nngh, ever w-will.”

you let out a soft moan, his words shooting shivers down your spine. choso was never like this— so possessive. but who’s to say you were complaining?

he continued ravishing into you, so carnally— the feeling of being so completely claimed by him was both exhilarating and terrifying.

but damn, it turned you on like nothing else.

his pants echoed in your ears as he picked up speed, his body moving against yours in perfect rhythm, the sound of his thighs slamming against your own. any thoughts you had, fled from your mind except for the sensation of his cock bottoming out inside you and the way he took control of both your body and mind.

as the intensity built, you could feel yourself getting closer to you peak. you didn't want it to end, but you also knew that when it did, the pure feeling alone would be delectable.

“choso— m’gonna, f-fuck! mm’gonna cumm~!” you blubbered out, your eyes starting to pool. with those words, he picked up his pace even more— delving deeper inside of you. just as you were about to let go and give in, adrenaline coursing through your veins, choso objected.

"n-not yet,” he denied. “m’ not done with you yet."

geto suguru—☆

“s’too much, sug’!” you sobbed loudly as geto’s tongue danced around your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

you squirmed and writhed on suguru's face, your hips grinding against his mouth as he expertly teased your clit with his tongue. you couldn't believe how good it felt, how skilled he was at his craft.

"suguru..." you panted, gripping the headboard tightly as yet another wave of pleasure hit you like a semi-truck. "m’sorry, please. i-i didn’t mean it…”

suguru chuckled softly against your sensitive flesh, his expression twisting into a devilish grin. "oh?" he teased, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "didn’t mean what? i can’t quite recall what it was."

he knew exactly what you were implying. yet, he was teasing— because the both of you knew what you said earlier contradicted this current state you were in now.

you bit your lip, feeling a warm blush creep up on your cheeks at the memory of what had come out of your mouth during the heat of the moment. "..‘said that you n-never make me cum," you mumbled sheepishly.

geto paused for a moment before resuming his ministrations with renewed vigor, causing yet another surge of pleasure to ripple through your body. "is that so? hm… i’ve never made you cum?" he asked mockingly, his voice full of amusement. “well she’s tellin’ me otherwise baby.”

he was referring to your cunt. the way “she” squelched as suguru slid his slender fingers in with ease, coated from your own slick mixed with his saliva.

the way he curled those digits inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that made your back arch and moans escape from between parted lips even as they were pressed against his face.

as his fingers continued to stroke your inner walls, searching for that perfect spot that would send you over the edge, his other hand reached up to play with one of your nipples.

the combination of the two was enough to make your head spin and your body shudder with anticipation. "s-suguru..." you whimpered out between gasps for air. "please... don't stop..."

his only response was a low rumble from deep within his chest—vibrating against your cunt as he swirled his tongue around your clit once again before finally taking it into his mouth completely, plunging two fingers deep inside of you.

a sharp hiss escaped from between your clenched teeth, followed by a subdued cry as suguru circled inside of you. he smirked, watching eagerly as your facial expression twisted lewdly with each nasty ministration. he was such a tease.

it felt as though your very being was on the verge of exploding. every nerve ending screamed for release, begging to be set free from this torment. the tension coiled tightly within you, threatening to snap at any moment and send waves of ecstasy crashing over your body.

you could feel it coming closer now— that inevitable peak where all sensations would converge into one, resulting in a mind-blowing orgasm. your heart raced, pounding against your chest like a drum signaling an approaching storm. sweat trickled down between your breasts and pooled at the small of your back as you arched further into suguru's touch.

but as quick as the pleasure built to a crescendo, it ended just as fast.

geto pulled his mouth away suddenly, grinning up at you from his spot between your legs, eyes sparkling with mischief. "since you said i never make you cum," he teased, his fingers curling inside of you in a way that threatened to push you over the edge yet again.

"i’m sure someone else will be able to help alleviate that little problem of yours." and with those words, he rose from his place underneath your figure. your legs being shaky, unstable, gave out beneath you, making you plop onto the mattress.

as geto sauntered towards the door with a smug smile on his face, he turned back to give one last taunt. “dont worry," he said with an air of false concern. "it shouldn’t be too hard finding someone that makes you cum as hard as i do."

DSIIRESBLOG™ 2024 — comments, feedback, and reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

[bruhstories]

Bet V

p.1 here & p2. here & p.3 here & p.4 here

mandatory mdni. you were not tagged in this because you are not over 18.

summary: in his attempt to break you, in-ho breaks himself pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, masturbation, voyeurism, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, veeeery slow burn, reader’s dad is dead w/c: 2k

a/n: this is my half-assed attempt at writing a game lol. if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post! thank you for reading! please remember that if you asked to be tagged but i can’t find your age on your blog, you will NOT be tagged. there will be smut and people dying lol.

Neolttwigi had been another success. The seesaw game eliminated 91 people, and with 97 remaining players, In-ho proceeded with tuho. He paid close attention to the masked soldiers who directed the survivors to the same place where they had previously played Red Light, Green Light, only the floor was divided by a bright blue line in the middle. The ceiling was open, letting players experience natural light for a second time in a row.

The game was awfully simple —  throwing arrows into the neck of a jar. In-ho remembered reading about that game in school, how it was played by royal families and the upper class before becoming a game for everyone, and the jar had a narrow neck, making it easy to miss the mark. He had rarely played it as a child, preferring juldarigi or squid, games he taught his younger brother.

It became a habit for him to check the cameras in his penthouse whenever you were there. It brought him a strange peace of mind knowing that Eunjoo was safe in your hands, but he couldn't, for the life of him, stop looking at the selfie you sent the day before. In-ho knew that walking into a lamppost was bullshit, but he didn't want to pressure you into telling him the truth. He needed you to trust him, to tell him willingly. 

Still, he examined the picture —  your cheek in particular — and concluded that you lied to him. In-ho took it as a triumph. He didn't win the bet just yet, there was still time for you to mess up, but the fact that you chose to not tell the truth only solidified his belief that you were the same as everyone else. In four days he would return to Seoul and win. The prize? He wasn’t sure. Perhaps just the satisfaction that he was above you.

Players entered the field, and the voice in the speaker instructed them to split into teams of two in less than thirty minutes, which was unfair to player 002, since there was an odd number of people. 002 was taken away by a guard, and the remaining 96 players grouped into pairs. While the objective was indeed simple — throw the arrows in the jar — it came with a twist. It always did. Each player was given four arrows, but one of them was blindfolded and threw the arrows while their teammate picked the jar up and tried to catch the arrow in it. Once all four arrows were thrown, the teammates switched places. If at least six out of eight arrows hit the mark, both players passed, but if one player threw four arrows and the other only two, they both died. 

The game took out fewer people than In-ho had hoped — 19 to be precise. Player 002 was alive and well, and the remaining 77 survivors returned to their chamber, where more and more beds had been removed, exposing the remaining three games on the walls — Hide and Seek, Yutnori and Ssireum. He remembered his time as a player, how he was the only one who paid attention to his surroundings and anticipated the following games. In-ho used all of his skills and knowledge as a detective and emerged as the sole survivor and winner. Did it bring his wife back? No, but it did make him feel so good when proved he earned his right to live.

Players were receiving less and less food, and from the comfort and safety of the control room, In-ho watched them slowly lose all traces of their humanity. He wondered how you would've performed in the games. Participants would have abused your kindness, and your good intentions would've gotten you killed. To make it worse, he was certain you would've sacrificed yourself to save someone else, someone you deemed worthy of winning. But in his eyes, only you deserved to live.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and In-ho took it out to read the text from you. He knew it had to be you. Who else would text him at that time?

Hellooo, I took a look in the fridge and noticed the eggs and milk will go bad before you come back. I was wondering if I could give it to someone who needs it.

Damn it, you did it again. In-ho couldn't be sure that you actually gave the food to someone else — he had to take your word for it for now.

Of course. May I ask who you're giving it to?

Remember the family I told you about? The one I teach Korean to? The wife is pregnant and can't work. I think she's due to give birth soon, actually, and they could use all the help. Besides, it would be a shame to throw away perfectly good food :)

Don't you want it, miss? When we first met, you told me you didn't have a good financial situation.

Oh, no, no. I'll be fine. They need it more.

Very well, please give it to them.

Ah, I also remembered you left some money on your nightstand. With all due respect, Mr. Hwang, that's very irresponsible. Anyone could take it.

Were you lecturing him? Him? Cute. In-ho even chuckled at your reprimand, finding it adorably amusing. If only you knew the things he did, the people he killed. How would you react? That question was beginning to take over his mind like a maggot wriggling inside of his brain. Would you be disgusted? Would you go to the police? Would you agree with his ways of cleaning the world of its impurities? It was no different than how you cleaned his penthouse — you both got rid of trash.

You're right, miss. There is a safe hidden in my wardrobe. Please put the money there. The code is 1321.

Surely you would crack at the sight of so much money and try to take some. No one sane would miss such an opportunity. But then again, maybe you weren't sane. Maybe you just needed a little push, a little encouragement. In-ho poured himself a glass of whisky and thought about the wound on your cheek, and the night you were crying on his kitchen floor. Someone had hurt you, and he needed to find out who so he could exploit that. And then, you would break. 

He was, however, slightly conflicted, because he didn’t want to ruin you. In-ho merely wanted to make you see things eye to eye. Just like him, life had been unfair to you. And just like him, you needed to survive. Kindness wouldn't take you very far — you had to witness the cruelty of the world somehow, and the only possible way to do that was to play the game and survive it, something In-ho knew you would never do due to your values and morals. And he couldn't wait one more year to push you past your limits. He needed to think of something else, and he needed to do it fast — time was ticking and you were a project he refused to let slip through his fingers.

In-ho checked the cameras at the time you normally arrived at the penthouse, patiently waiting for you. He was pleased to see that you were in a better mood, cheerfully greeting Eunjoo as you went about with your tasks, but something was different. You appeared to be texting someone, and he never received any notifications on his phone, yet you were quite busy chatting back and forth. His stomach churned, an amalgamation of feelings bubbling and boiling in his core. Anxiety? Anger? Jealousy? 

Jealousy.

You always sent him a text upon your arrival. You always let him know that you were there, so who occupied your mind if not him? The sudden lack of the very little control he had over you made him trip in his room and lose balance, and he forcefully ripped the mask off and tossed it on the floor. 

In-ho was losing the bet he made with himself, and not in the way he had imagined.

It wasn't him who lived in your mind, but you who invaded his, and it infuriated him, because after his wife died, he refused to get attached, refused to fall in love. Luckily for him, it wasn't love that he felt for you, but an unhealthy obsession to watch you, to know your every move, to find out who hurt you and make you hurt them back. 

You performed your tasks with utmost perfection, and placed the money in his safe while ignoring the riches inside it, but you were distracted, constantly looking at your phone and half-smiling whenever it lit up. In-ho couldn't have that. 

How's Eunjoo?

Since you were so busy talking to someone, he expected you to frown at his text, to scoff and ignore it. But you did worse. You stopped folding his clothes and sat on the edge of his bed, beaming at the message on the screen.

She's alright! We had dinner and a cuddle, and now she's playing next to me. I'll send you a picture!

In-ho watched you struggle to take a photo of the cat — each time you took out your phone, Eunjoo stopped playing, so you swapped to the front camera, trying to sneak a picture. You even smoothed your hair and made yourself look presentable, and he found it quite adorable that you tried to look presentable for him.

I'm sorry you have to see my face, but she wouldn't sit still for a photo!

You were stunning. It was all In-ho could think about when he opened the photo. Your bright eyes were like a drug to him, instantly hooking him, forcing him to regain a shred of humanity.

Don't apologise, miss. You're beautiful.

There it was, the crack he so desperately sought for. You were practically hyperventilating in his bedroom, struggling to breathe, constantly rereading the words on your phone. And then he heard you talk to Eunjoo, heard you question your own sanity. But no, In-ho didn't like you. He was simply interested in breaking you, oblivious to how you were breaking him.

"Damn it. I promised Donghyun I'd go for a coffee after work tomorrow. I'm so confused now." Your distorted voice crackled through his speaker, and In-ho clenched his jaw, barely stopping himself from breaking his phone.

Who the fuck was Donghyun? And more importantly, why did he care? 

He didn't care, or at least that was what he told himself for the past few days. He didn't care. He didn't give a shit about you. He didn't-

The familiar words of Frank Sinatra's Fly Me To The Moon stopped him dead in his tracks. In-ho turned the volume up, still in disbelief that you knew the song, that you sung it in his bedroom like no one was watching you. It was impossible how similar you were to him, to how he was before life took a turn. But a song and a kind heart weren't enough to change him. It was far too late for that. The only possible outcome was for you to become like him, and he wouldn't accept anything else.

For the first time, In-ho didn't offer you privacy when you stepped into his bathroom. For the first time, he watched as you peeled off each layer of clothing, and for the first time, he saw every scar and scratch, every burn and bruise on your body, new and old, and he understood. You had already faced the realities of this cruel world, and you chose not to become vengeful. Your father died, your uncle abused you, and yet, you shined.

The unforeseen urge to protect you seeped through his veins, but not before you got your revenge. You deserved to get revenge more than anyone in the world. And if you didn't want that, he'd make you want it one way or another.

"Fuck." In-ho whispered when his cock twitched in his trousers at the sight of your bare body. So vulnerable. So weak. So perfect. 

He sat down, phone in one hand and his eyes only on you. It was pure instinct when he fisted his cock, pure instinct when your name spilled from his lips, pure instinct when he imagined you under him, wriggling and writhing, pure instinct when he came on his fingers, disgusted with himself.

Pure instinct. Nothing more.

tagging: @ri1liane  @anmert1  @syraxnyra  @frshluvcats  @lanyia  @mettreads  @nightdark-dreamdark  @bridge-always  @lovekm  @audrey223  @starkeyszn  @hobiesbrownsgf  @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry  @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair @missroro @talia-the-gemini @fortluocha @true-queen-of-mischief @ssa-callahan @bibliophile-yomna @wwastro @heartsforseo @marymun @glads-stuff @starryeddie @kisses2kanao @gagaga167 @l4venderia @scryi @lelisae @twicelover2 @ashtrosstuff @cruel-affair @cdej6 @veragrhm @nikos-a-clown @cchewhaz @pepsicolacoochie @lily-ann-b @red22wolf @nellabear  @unabletonotlovesatoru @happiness2112 @waterjewelsspite @luna-looniesblog @plan3t-plut0 @full-sunnies @warlabels @xcinnamonmalfoyx @rickgrimesismydaddy1 @jasonpetertoddismygod @marihoneywk @llghtsnoww @torkorpse @salivasupplier @okqur @jamiewritesfanfiction-blog @certifiedlevisimp @kiss-themoongoodbye @bluehourss @alexa554 @sinful-tawtute @ithoughtthinks @nacatna-blog @riri53 @alexisabirdie @houta-habtet-houta

[pellucid-constellations]

Are You Bored Yet?

Pairing: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader

Summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky c:

a/n:​​​ I am so excited to finally post something!! It only took me four months 😅 If you enjoy it please please let me know ❤️❤️

Masterlist

~~

12:59 pm.

The birchwood table nestled in the back of the library was long but otherwise empty, the only thing occupying it being your laptop and quite a few books. He wasn’t late. Yet. You weren’t going to hold onto that hope, however.

Tutoring Bucky Barnes was not what you had in mind when you volunteered for the peer assistance program at your university. It was true you were only using the club to boost your resume, but you had assumed the only people reaching out for help would be those that actually wanted it. Unfortunately, that was not the case. 

Sure, Bucky wanted help. Just not with anything that actually warranted the word. He wanted help sweet talking the cops so they wouldn't shut down his parties. He wanted help recruiting girls to show up to his parties. And—the one thing you could actually do—he wanted help passing his classes with the minimum GPA required to not get kicked out of his frat. So he could continue to throw parties. 

Everything in his life revolved around his fraternity, which made you very important to him. When he wanted you to be. 

With your apparently astounding knowledge of biology (you took notes during lectures), you became the star in Bucky’s life every Monday and Wednesday from 1:00 pm (give or take ten minutes) to 2:00 pm. He was also very attentive during the thirty minute phone calls he initiated prior to tests, and always looked happy to see you when he passed you devouring a bagel at the crack of dawn in the dining hall. 

Every situation in which you had come in contact with Bucky was isolated and purposeful (minus the bagel). You didn’t hang out or invite each other places, and you were almost positive that if you were to see him in his natural habitat, you would want to tutor him even less than you did now, and that was saying something. So you were important to Bucky during the times you were supposed to be important, and he was important to you in the sense that he was a job. 

But as your laptop blinked the numbers 1:22 pm back at your unimpressed expression, Bucky became much less important today. You took in a long, tortured breath before sending your gaze up to the ceiling, giving it another three minutes before you truly gave up on him for the day. 

One minute. 

Two minutes. 

The library really needed new ceiling tiles. 

1:25 pm and you snapped your laptop shut. Your fingers itched to send yet another complaint about this whole ordeal Natasha’s way, but you stopped yourself. She had already heard plenty about Barnes at this point, plus she always gave you a weird look every time you came stomping into the apartment, grumbling about something else he had done. 

You hated her weird looks, all raised eyebrows and stiff lips.

With your backpack heaved onto the table and your things slowly funneling in, you figured a nap was the best reward for sitting in the library for an unnecessary twenty-five minutes. Your last prickle of irritation was stifled at the prospect of a warm bed as you stood, only to find that irritation had returned to you tenfold. In the form of Bucky Barnes. 

“You going somewhere?” he seemed to taunt, his bag slung casually over one shoulder. 

Your jaw ticked. “Home.” 

His mouth turned up at one side, an expression you had learned meant he found you amusing. He never seemed to outright laugh at your annoyance, but apparently, it was hard to tamp down all of the joy he got out of it. Bucky took two long strides to meet the table you were attempting to abandon. 

“But I still got about—” he checked his watch “—thirty-three minutes? And an arsenal of questions about amino acids. Help a guy out.” 

“And I still got—” you checked the nonexistent watch on your wrist “—no patience for this today. You’re over twenty minutes late, Barnes. Use that watch to set an alarm on Wednesday and I’ll tell you everything you’ll inevitably forget about amino acids then.” 

He groaned, rounding the table to set firm hands on your shoulders as he hovered behind you. “Sit. I’ll buy you a coffee and I promise I won’t be late on Wednesday, okay? I was dealing with something before this and lost track of time.” 

“Were you dealing with another sorority girl in your bed? Who was it last week? Amber? No, Michelle?” 

“It’s a Monday, y/n. Cut me some slack.” 

“You came to me on a Wednesday with a hangover,” you deadpanned.

Bucky grimaced, the expression visible to you as he managed to guide you back into your chair. “Oat milk, right? A double?” 

You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as he tossed his bag by your feet and jogged over to the coffee cart just outside the library. He fumbled with his wallet when he went to pay, and you watched him point to the carton of oat milk the barista had yet to reach for. His greek letters were printed on the gray hoodie he had haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and you held the reprimand on your tongue when you saw the matching sweatpants he donned. 

The last time he had shown up in his pajamas—late—you’d had some choice words for him. Bucky turned around with your coffee then, poking the straw through the lid and sending you a sheepish smile through the window. 

He was lucky you accepted bribes. 

~~

“Please,” the boy across from you continued to beg, a pen held loosely between pliant fingers. “Just ask her, that’s all I want. You can even come too.” 

“Oh, wow, the great frat president letting me come to his stupid toga party? How could I ever thank you enough?” 

It was Wednesday now, and Bucky was surprisingly on time to the tutoring session. You’d gotten through about half of the last bio lecture before he started asking you ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the content. Today, he was dead set on getting your lab partner from chemistry to go to his party this weekend. 

“Okay, yeah, you could come to whatever party you want, you know? I put you on the list—but this one will be even better if you’d just do this one thing for me.” 

You finally tore your eyes from your laptop, glancing lazily at him. “And what would make this one so—wait, what list?” 

He waved you off. “The one at the door. Did it like… the second week we started this? Anyways, Wanda?” 

You let this new information settle and tried to ignore whatever implications came with being on some frat list thanks to Bucky. He had never explicitly invited you to any of his parties over the past few months and you had never asked to come. Apparently, you could have shown up whenever you wanted to and had a grand old time. 

Not that that sounded the least bit grand. 

Bucky was looking at you still, all pleading features and a soft, infuriating smile on his lips. When he wasn’t talking to random girls in the library or taking annoying phone calls in the middle of your sessions, he was sort of endearing. In a terrible, awful sense. 

You groaned, throwing yourself back against your chair in begrudging defeat. “I don’t even talk to her outside of chem. Don’t you think it’d be a little weird to invite her to a party that I’m not even going to?” 

“So come,” he answered simply, as if that was in the realm of possibilities. 

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Sure, I’ll come to your party, Barnes.” 

“Great,” he grinned. “Vision’s gonna be so hyped.” 

You watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and kept your lie to yourself. He wouldn’t notice that you didn’t show up on Friday, and likely wouldn’t even bring it up the following Monday. He always had such vibrant, headache-inducing stories that you were sure your absence would be nothing more than a fleeting footnote. 

“You have a toga, right?” he mumbled, face still screwed up in concentration as he continued his text. 

“Isn’t it just a sheet all twisted up?” you asked, shutting your computer. Tutoring was obviously over. 

Bucky pocketed his phone again, brows raised in amusement. “Depends on your motives for the night.” 

“And my motives wouldn’t be to… wear a toga?” 

He chuckled and huffed out your name, resting an arm along the back of the chair to his right—your chair. “Other motives. Like if you’re trying to get someone’s attention.” 

You blinked at the warmth along your back. “Oh, of course. Then I would twist up a pillowcase instead, right?”

“Something like that.” 

He smelled like coconut. Like a day at the beach but afterwards, when the sunscreen still lingered in the air but fresh clothes covered skin that had been warmed by the sun. You could usually ignore whatever expensive combination he had on his skin, but when he got close like this it was almost impossible. 

Part of you always wanted to chuck his arm away when he leaned over you, but another part of you liked that he kept it there. It was a strange part of you, the same one that relished the looks you got from sorority girls in the library and harbored a sense of pride each time he made a blatant attempt to touch you. 

You had spent fleeting moments analyzing these emotions and chalked them up to some internalized desire for validation. Nothing else. Bucky was a hot guy and everyone knew that, so having his attention—in any capacity—felt nice. Sometimes. Meaning right now it was nice that he was looking at you with his arm practically glued to your back, but next week when he showed up late with a hangover and tried to steal the jacket off your body it would be not so nice. 

The duality of man. 

It helped your partial insanity that Bucky would never actually be interested in you. You weren’t in a sorority or interested to his parent’s money, and, worst of all, you didn’t know how to maneuver a sheet into a toga. When he put his arm around you or moved your hair from your eyes as you leaned over a book, it was probably out of habit. It felt nice, but you knew reality. This was a passing phase, and by the summer you wouldn’t even speak to him anymore.

“I’ll text you more info about everything,” Bucky called, pulling you from your thoughts. “You can come early and I’ll help you with that pillowcase.” 

You froze, the book you were shoving into your bag pausing in your hands. “Uh, maybe.” 

“No, seriously, it’d be better if you came early. I was kidding about the pillowcase but if you come on time it’ll be too crazy for me to show you around.” 

“You don’t have to show me around, Bucky. I’ve been to a house party before.” 

“Y/n, are you not coming to this thing?” Bucky accused, swiping the book from your hands and softly tossing it on the table. It still made a loud thud that had a few bitter looks thrown your way. 

“Dude!” you whispered, meeting each mean gaze with your apologetic one. “Why does it matter if I come? You just wanted Wanda anyway.” 

He knocked your hand away when you went to reach for the book again, encircling your wrist with his fingers. “You just lied to me. Straight to my face. You said you’d come and now you gotta.” 

You gave his fingers an experimental tug, but he was unrelenting in his soft grip. You glared at him through your lashes, meeting his uncharacteristically stern gaze that contrasted the humor on his lips. 

“You ever hear of sarcasm?” you whispered with a half-hearted bite. 

“Unfortunately, that’s about all I hear outta you,” he smirked back. 

You rolled your eyes, finally yanking hard enough to free yourself from him. “Then you should have known I wasn’t going to come. No matter what ‘list’ you put me on.” 

“What else could you possibly have going on on a Friday night?” 

Ouch. You felt your brows furrow even though you didn’t will them to, and even worse, you felt a rash defensiveness lodge itself in your throat. You hated the heat that now prickled along the skin of your neck, and you hated even more how it extinguished all of the good warmth you had felt from him earlier. 

This was humiliation, surely—the kind that only came from feeling small. 

“You don’t have to be a dick,” you seethed, snapping up the remainder of your belongings. “Just because I don’t want to go to your stupid frat doesn't mean I have nothing to do. I don’t spend all of my time hoping to get invited to ridiculous parties.” 

Bucky shifted up in his seat, eyes blown just a fraction wider. “Whoa, I didn’t mean—hey, stop a sec, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Whatever, Bucky,” you droned, as a new temperature seeped into the skin of your palms and made them clammy. Any semblance of delusion you’d fallen into earlier was long gone now, but you knew to expect that. He wasn’t interested in you and you weren’t interested in him. But embarrassment wasn’t a good feeling, regardless of a multitude of reality checks. 

Bucky got up when you did, his clothes looking creased and lived in. “We still have time in our session,” he defended, arm jutting out to the table. “C’mon, I didn’t mean you don’t have friends.” 

Your glare sharpened. “Great, another insinuation.” 

Bucky sputtered out incoherent words as you continued your trek outside, resorting to grabbing your wrist again, this time with more urgency. You felt the heat in you simmer down to a dull throb as he made contact, mostly out of respect for your future self. If you made this a huge deal it would only embarrass you more. 

“Look, it doesn’t even matter, okay?” you huffed, but he just tugged you forward. It was then that you realized you were in the doorway of the library, effectively blocking it off from anyone trying to leave. Bucky pulled you close enough to his chest that you weren’t in the way anymore. His cologne was back with a vengeance, your nose just inches from his collar.  

You took a steadying breath, blinking away the remnants of shame. “It doesn’t matter, I overreacted.” 

He clicked his tongue. “I’m still apologizing. I didn’t mean any of that stuff you were talking about.” 

Of course he did. You were sure he thought it all the time. He just didn’t mean to say it out loud. 

“It’s fine,” you rushed. “I have to go, anyway. Office hours.” 

“Okay,” he nodded, soft and low, like he just remembered he was in a library. “You’ll still come this weekend, right? Even if Wanda can’t?” 

“You have some kind of girl quota you need to meet?” you pressed.

Bucky smiled, still so close to you that you could feel the small breath that accompanied the expression. “And she’s back.” 

You left without promising anything, and Bucky left feeling like you had. 

~~

Sometime between Wednesday and Friday, your detestment for frat parties had snowballed into determination. You were going to go and you were going to look like you were having so much fun it was ridiculous. Then, on Monday, when Bucky would usually poke and prod about what you’d gotten up to over the past few days, you were going to pretend that it was nothing for you. That you did that every weekend. 

Of course, you didn’t. Your weekends typically consisted of calm nights with friends or dinners near campus. You’d been to a party before, sure, but you didn’t exactly frequent those kinds of scenes. 

Bucky had continued to make it clear that you were invited. He had texted you a few times, prompting you to come and thanking you for getting Wanda to agree. The messages looked strange under the plethora of biology related questions, but that just spurred you further into action. You weren’t just a tutor with no social life, and Bucky was going to see that tonight. You couldn’t remember doing something out of pure spite before, but you figured having fun to prove a point wasn’t the worst thing. 

Wanda pulled you out of your thoughts as the Uber rounded the last dark corner and revealed an overcrowded house with too many lights on. She rambled on about some guy she couldn’t wait to see and confirmed that she would likely be spending the night. You expected as much; it hadn’t taken much convincing to get her to come. If this night resulted in anything good it was apparently the blossoming relationship between your new friend and a man you’d never met. 

Wanda continued to chat as she yanked you out of the car and past the yard littered with sparse grass. The music was loud already—the type of loud that you needed to be at least a little drunk to enjoy. And that was the plan. 

“Okay, if I start dancing on a table you pull me down. And if you start dancing on a table I support you, right?” Wanda giggled, her voice now raised as you walked past the threshold of the house. 

“Exactly,” you yelled back. A guy nodded to you as he leaned against the front door, his eyes glancing up from his phone and then returning. It seemed Bucky’s ‘list’ was a page on some guy’s notes app. How luxurious. “Let’s drink.” 

The next hour was a blur. You tried your hardest to get as drunk as possible and Wanda tried her hardest to find the British man she was enamored with. You hadn’t seen Bucky, but you figured he wasn’t looking for you too hard since you hadn’t responded to any of his texts. Not out of anger, but because you didn’t know what to say. Somehow, with alcohol warming your blood and music vibrating your skin, none of that mattered anymore. 

You: Your house is soooo dirty

Your phone jostled in your grip, people bumping into you from every side. When he didn’t answer in the thirty seconds you spent staring at the screen, you locked it and continued on with your mission. 

After a few too many shots of hard liquor, you switched to beer. Gross, but decidedly less likely to make you pass out on the staircase of this house. Because you weren’t lying in your text—it was slightly disgusting. You figured you should clarify that with Bucky. You reached for your phone once again, knocking your head against the wall in the process and giggling to yourself. You had no idea where Wanda went. 

The device was snatched from your hands just as quickly as the screen had lit up your face. 

“You ever answer this thing?” an accusing voice called out. “Or do you just insult people and put it on do not disturb?” 

The look on Bucky’s face would have made you roll your eyes in any other circumstance. Right now, however, it had a startled laugh bursting past your lips. You clutched at your stomach as the laugh grew and you found yourself tipping forward until your forehead met his chest. You felt delirious, almost silly. A hand came around to rest on the back of your neck.

“Alright, alright.” Bucky’s words rumbled against your face. “I get it, this is hilarious.” 

“Your… your face,” you breathed out, catching your breath enough to part from him. “It was all—” you mimicked the straight line of his eyebrows, voice raising in a mocking tone. “—You don’t ever answer your phone. You’re so boring, y/n, answer your phone.” 

“I didn’t call you boring. Hey—hey,” Bucky stressed, reaching for you as you leaned too far to the side, a smile still lingering on your face. “Jesus, y/n, how much did you have to drink?” 

You went to mock him again, but his fingers on your jaw stopped you. He tilted your head up and to the left, and although he was much more composed than you were, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. You scrunched up your nose as he continued his inspection. 

“Why’re you being so uptight?” you slurred, trying and failing to push away from him. “I thought you were all like, ‘I’m Bucky and I party and get drunk and have sex with girls.’”

Bucky pulled you forward as you laughed at your impression of him, his shaking head making you blink away a bout of dizziness. You toppled over a set of stairs as he threaded his fingers through yours, and then you stumbled through a doorway and onto carpeted floors. Being pressed into an uncomfortable chair was the most jarring action, the world still spinning as you sat. 

“You’re even more mean when you're drunk,” you heard Bucky mumble. You couldn’t quite catch him as he moved around whatever room you were in. “And I don’t talk like that.” 

You let out a careless sigh and leaned back. “You soooo talk like that.” 

Something cold pressed to your hand, followed by another touch to the back of your neck. You gazed down at the water bottle being guided up to your lips and couldn’t find it in you to fight against it, despite the small spark of defiance on the tip of your tongue. After about four large swallows, Bucky was satisfied. 

He asked again how much you’d had to drink. 

You answered that you didn’t know—that it didn’t matter because he wasn’t your dad and you were having fun like you always did. He bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything for the next few moments. 

And then, “Thought you weren’t gonna come tonight.” 

You hummed, rolling your head against the chair to look up at his standing form. “Of course I was going to come. I love parties. Love drinking alcohol.” 

His expression twisted into something you couldn’t recognize. “God, you’re so drunk.” 

“M’not even that drunk!” 

“You’re willingly in my room right now. You’re plastered.” 

“Maybe I want to be in your room.” 

“We both know that’s not true.” 

You chuckled breathily, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the pretty flush of Bucky’s face. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Don’t know much about me though. Or biology.” 

Bucky kneeled down to the height of the chair. “And what do I not know about you?” 

“So much.” 

“How much?” 

You bit into your lip and cracked an eye open, catching the amusement that had slipped past the strange mask of his emotions. With blissful ignorance, you heaved yourself forward on the chair, your nose a few inches from Bucky’s. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as you swayed. 

“You don’t know that I’m the most interesting person on Earth,” you boasted, fingers gripping the upholstery of your seat. 

“That right?” Bucky probed, his voice a melodic hum. 

“Yup, I’m always really busy and even though you think I’m some boring biology tutor I’m actually super cool and, like, go to raves and stuff.” 

His brow twitched but his mouth stayed soft. “I’ve never said you were boring. And I don’t think you’ve ever been to a rave.” 

You groaned loudly and flopped against the backrest of the chair. “See! I’m telling you I do all this cool stuff and I’m so drunk my fingers are buzzing and you still don’t believe me.” 

You crossed your arms with a huff, a small pout forming on your lips. In any other context, this behavior would probably embarrass you to no end. In the dim light of Bucky’s room where you felt the feeling leave your fingers and the care leave your mind, you were just disgruntled, not embarrassed. If you remembered this tomorrow the latter would surely catch up to you.

Bucky stared at you from his spot on the ground, his gaze a bit foggy and unfocused. He was clearly intoxicated, as you deduced earlier, and it made him look more wild. Mused hair and pink cheeks, he looked like he’d been having plenty of fun before he found you. It was distracting. He was distracting you from proving that you were having a blast.

“What?” you snapped, the tone a testament to the drunken fit you were throwing. 

“You’re so fucking pretty.” 

He must be really, really drunk. Despite your clouded mind, you knew that, but the words affected you just the same. Your lips parted as a new lightness both lit up and compressed your chest, and Bucky watched the movement. 

“Yeah,” you scoffed, but it was hardly a scoff. “Sure, Bucky. How much did you have to drink—” 

“I’m not lying. I’ve thought about you in my room for weeks and now you’re here and you’re so pretty. Even when you’re yelling at me.” 

“You’ve… thought about me in your room?” 

Bucky shuffled forward and you subconsciously parted your legs to allow the space for him. “I think about you everywhere.” 

This was crazy. It was certifiably insane. A voice in the back of your head—Natasha’s voice, it sounded like—was screaming at you to stop and think about the situation at hand. He was drunk, you were even more drunk, and he was far too close to you. He had ushered you in here with good intentions and had sobered you up a fraction, but things had taken a turn and this was a sensitive situation. The kind of sensitive that altered your reality and his and probably a bunch of other people’s you’d never met. 

Or it could be nothing and you were over exaggerating. 

But then Bucky’s hand was warming your thigh. You’d felt the press of it on your back and your shoulder and your head before, but it had never been on your thigh. It felt heavy there, hot. His other hand moved to touch your face and he propped himself up on one knee. His thumb brushed your cheek. Words tumbled from your mouth before you registered that you were speaking. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” 

Why would you ask that? Who asks Bucky Barnes if he’s going to kiss them? 

“Would you let me?” he responds. 

“Yes.” 

He didn’t waste any time, his mouth hot against yours. He tasted like mint and vodka and his lips moved so slowly it ached. You had expected a fervor behind his lips, but instead you got a build up, an orchestra reaching its crescendo. He was kissing you like you were important, like this wasn’t some random hookup in his bedroom at 1 o’clock in the morning, and you had to catch your breath when he parted from you. 

But he moved back in so quickly after your brief respite, and you were eager to give him more. This was crazy, insane. This was the best kiss you’d ever have and also the worst. This was months of staring at his stupid lips when he tried explaining concepts back to you, but this was also weeks of feeling small in his presence. Bucky slid his hand back to press against your hair and you didn’t feel small anymore. 

A loud thud from the hallway interrupted the silence you’d created, and Bucky pulled back, keeping his hands on you as he craned his neck around to stare at the door. He waited a beat, and then two, and then he turned back to you. The moment was gone, but he was still touching you. You weren’t sure what you wanted—if you wanted him to kiss you again or run out the door—but when he slid his hands from your body and rubbed them down his jeans, it became clear that was not what you wanted. 

A knot formed in your stomach when he met your gaze again, and you tried blinking the feeling away. It didn’t work. 

“Um,” Bucky began, his voice sounding more clear, his tone not holding the weight it had.

Your plan had backfired. Severely. This was a mess and you needed to save yourself before you ended this night even more humiliated.

You were still drunk. Pretend you were still plastered. 

You giggled airily, the sound burning your throat. “That was loud.” 

Bucky blinked at you in what you assumed was disbelief. “Probably just someone trying to find the bathroom,” he clarified.

You shrugged, nudging him back with your knee as you stood from the chair. “I’m bored now.” You took fast steps to the door, your words foreign to you. “Thanks for the water,” you all but gritted out. 

You expected him to get up. Not to run after you or proclaim his love or even say anything. But you expected him to get up. 

He didn’t, and you couldn’t understand how the knot in your stomach had moved to your throat. Or how it made tears spring to your eyes when your feet hit the sidewalk outside. Your Uber came and you couldn’t understand how you felt hot and cold at the same time. How it was freezing outside but you were sweating. 

You couldn’t understand why you were crying over a boy that so often infuriated you, or why he kissed you in his bedroom. The reasonable side of you sent gentle reminders that he was in a frat and kissing people is just what he did. All the time. But the unreasonable side of you won out tonight, and it was telling you that this felt different.

That you should be different, somehow.

~~

Bucky: You’re here???

Bucky: Where are you?

Bucky: Y/n answer your damn phone

Bucky: This place is fucking packed tonight I thought you weren’t coming 

You stared at the text messages you hadn’t read last night, the bright light of your phone burning into your retinas. You had a brutal hangover, and the memory of the disaster in Bucky’s room felt like an even bigger one. 

You’d gone through a myriad of emotions the night before, tossing around excuses and speeches in your head until you were so exhausted you let the alcohol in your system lull you to sleep. With all of that delirious thinking, you’d landed on blacking out. You were going to tell Bucky you blacked out last night and couldn’t remember a thing. He obviously wouldn’t care and would probably appreciate it. 

Saturday was slow-moving. Reruns of television shows and bags of popcorn and overthinking. Natasha was at her parent’s house in the city, so you had no one to bounce your racing thoughts off of. You certainly weren’t going to text her about it. 

When the evening finally rolled around and your attempts at distracting yourself with mind-numbing movies failed, you checked your email. You always tried not to on the weekends, but doing anything else sounded much less appealing. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t get past the first one. 

From: University Peer Assistance Program 

Dear Y/n Y/l/n, 

This is an automated message from the campus peer assistance program. We thank you for your continued devotion to the betterment of students at this school. At this time, your tutoring placement with James Barnes has ended. We will search for a new placement to fill your current hours. 

Thank you, 

University Peer Assistance 

You blinked at the email, then blinked again. The breath left your chest and the muscles on your face twitched, but you were otherwise frozen.

This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be free from the haughty frat boy that didn’t even listen to you when you tried to help him raise his grades. You wanted someone nice, someone that had the same goals as you and appreciated the color-coded notes you took for them. Bucky only tried to get a rise out of you. He sat too close and made fun of you and put you on lists you didn’t ask to be on. 

But he had kissed you. He had kissed you and then tutor-dumped you. 

You knew you weren’t his type, but were you really that bad? Was the kiss so terrible? 

Every inferiority complex you had developed exploded. You over-analyzed things that had already happened, things you had said. Not just at the party, but in the library, the coffee shops, the lecture halls. 

Was he really willing to risk his position in the frat just to avoid you? 

The strangle tickle of tears itched to be released from your eyes again, but you pressed it down. No, this wasn’t on you. He had kissed you. He had dragged you into his room and stumbled on pretty words. If he didn’t want you to tutor him anymore because of his stupid mistake, fine. 

His mistake. 

That word felt wrong. 

You tossed your phone on the couch with vigor. The clock above the television read out 10 pm, but that meant little to you as you slid on your shoes at the front door. You were wearing sweatpants and a jacket that was far too big on you, sadness and frustration and raw confusion propelling you down your apartment stairs. 

Ice cream would fix this. 

The only place open at this time was the gas station at the edge of campus. It wasn’t university affiliated and was usually overrun with belligerent greek life trying to buy alcohol, but the decision-making part of your brain was currently shut off. 

Ice cream, anger, probably watching tiktoks until your eyes were too heavy to keep open—those were the only things rattling in your head. 

You yanked open the gas station door after your short walk, the glass smudged and fogged from the cold night. The fluorescent lights aggravated the headache you’d been sporting all day and the floor made sticking noises with each step you took. To add insult to injury, there were only three cartons of ice cream left, and they weren’t even the good flavors. Grabbing the least offensive one, you made your way to the small line of people by the register. 

“Nice outfit.” 

Too enthralled by the disappointing ingredient list on the side of your ice cream, you had missed the tall man now looming at your shoulder. You whipped your head around with a start, taking a step back, smelling menthol and asphalt and nothing good. 

“Thanks,” you quietly replied. 

He waited until you turned back around to continue. “You go to school over here?” 

You kept your gaze forward. “Um, yeah.” 

“Nice. I graduated a few years back. Marketing.” 

“Cool,” you replied. What had compelled you to leave your phone on the couch? This night sucked. 

You found reprieve in the line moving, the employee calling you over to check out. As soon as you paid—a few dollar bills funneled out of your pocket with shaky hands—you booked it. Your ice cream burned in your palm but you didn’t care, feet carrying you out the door and into the dimly lit parking lot. You fisted your keys in your fingers; pointless, you knew, but a small comfort. 

The man’s voice returned with the chime of the bell over the gas station door. “Wait! Wait, I’m Beck. I own a business nearby.” 

You should have kept walking, but one of your fatal flaws was, apparently, people pleasing. You turned to him. He smiled at you but it made your stomach twist. 

“Oh, nice,” you responded, rocking back on your heels. 

“We should connect. Maybe go for coffee or something?” He took a step forward. You fought the urge to take one back. His beard was unkempt and he held a six pack in his white-knuckled grip. 

“Um, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with finals coming up. Plus, I’m not really in the business field.” 

“Not for business then,” he smiled again, teeth dull in the streetlight. 

Just agree. If you agreed you could block him soon after and everything would be fine. 

You took too long to answer. He took the final step forward to arrive in your space and wrapped his fingers around your bicep. “C’mon, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.” 

Frozen by fear, you let out a weak laugh. The pint in your hand was sticking to your skin now in a way that would be painful when you tried to let go of it later. Your breath rattled in your chest when you laughed again. 

“Sure, okay.” But he didn’t let go of your arm, instead sliding it down to the bone of your wrist. 

“What about now?” he posed. “You don’t look too busy. I can make you something at my place.” 

He was at least ten years older than you. You attempted to pull yourself from his grasp to no avail. Maybe reasoning would work. 

“My roommate's waiting for me,” you lied. “Could you let go? I sprained my wrist at the gym last week,” you lied again. 

He refused with a shake of his head. You took a panicked glance inside the gas station to your right. No one was looking. 

“Please let go of me.” 

The call of your name from the other side of the parking lot initially sent more unbearable fear down your spine. But then the owner of that voice registered in your brain, and although it had been the cause of your recent internal strife, you couldn't be more grateful to hear it. 

He said your name again, closer now and questioning. Bucky jogged up to the pair of you, saw your wrist and the man holding it hostage, and looked back up at you with confused, wild eyes. 

“You know this guy?” he asked, jutting his thumb out at Beck.

“No,” you whispered. The word was short but the syllable still trembled. 

Bucky didn’t look confused anymore. He looked pissed. “Wanna take your fucking hands off her?”

Beck was tall, but Bucky was taller. And angry. Beck released your wrist and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa, man, no need for the theatrics. I’m guessing you’re here to stock up for a party? I used to be in Sigma Nu.” 

When Bucky’s silent glare failed to dampen, Beck continued with, “We were just planning a night at my place, right?” 

His nod in your direction made your breath catch. Bucky took his piercing gaze off of Beck and softened it as it fell on you. You wanted to respond, but words were gone. They were impossible. Your ice cream was melting. 

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Bucky scoffed, placing his arm around your shoulder. He guided you past the wall of a man, making sure to drive his shoulder into his chest as he went. Beck went to say more, to protest or whine, but Bucky shot him such a scathing look it almost made you wither. 

The smell of coconut and spices and a hint of whisky met your nose, and it was familiar. It was safe. You fumbled with the keys in your hands as your feet guided you wherever Bucky was going, and then you fumbled even more, soft jingling disrupting the softness of footfall. God, why wouldn’t you stop shaking? 

A hand fell atop yours, crunching the keys to a halt. You stared down at them, unsteady breath hitting the tanned fingers that served as your current anchor. 

“Look at me, y/n.” 

You couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything. 

“Sweetheart, eyes up. All you gotta do.” Bucky’s voice was as soft as it was last night. That was the only reason you were able to follow his request. “There she is,” he hummed. 

He removed his arm from your shoulders and shifted in front of you, placing his hand on your cheek. You ignored that it felt the same as it had last night. You ignored that you wanted it to feel the same for him, too. 

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his neck down to better see your face. His thumb brushed under your eye. “He hurt you?” 

You shook your head, whispering no, whispering that you were fine. 

Bucky nodded to himself, eyes tracking down to your toes and then back up again. He must have mistaken your shaking for coldness because the next thing he did was guide you into the car behind him. You didn’t know it was his.

He blasted the heat the second he got in. He had shuffled you into your seat with his hands before that, smoothed your hair down and closed the door after you were settled and not shaking as hard. The heat dried out your eyes. It distracted you enough to let words form. 

“Thank you,” you said. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t bring my phone with me. I should’ve.” 

“Of course.” 

There was a beat of silence. The relief you had felt earlier had been muddled down to an awkward pit in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if Bucky felt it too or if he was still riding a testosterone-fueled adrenaline high. 

You wanted to go home now; this was uncomfortable and you had felt Bucky’s lips on yours less than twenty-four hours ago with no closure. He obviously didn’t want to be around you. This was probably a responsibility thing for him. 

“I can… I can walk home now. The guy left. I’m just a quarter mile away and you probably have to stock up or whatever.” 

He looked at you with a pinched expression. “I’m not letting you walk home after that. You kiddin’ me?” 

“I’ll be fine, really. I walk over here all the time.” 

“You get harassed all the time too?” 

“No…” 

“Exactly. So you’re not walking home.” 

“Bucky—” 

“Look I’m not gonna kiss you again, alright? So you don’t have to turn down a ride because of that.” 

Your ice cream was soup at this point. You let it roll into your lap as you clamped your mouth shut just to open it again. Bucky ran a rough hand through his hair before dropping it on the steering wheel, clutching at it with no place to go. 

“I’m not following,” you finally relented. 

A loud sigh released from his nose. “You don’t have to worry about me kissing you again. I just want to make sure you get home safe and then I’ll leave you alone.” 

“Worry about—you’re the one trying to avoid me,” you snapped, frozen fingers pointing to your chest. “You tutor-dumped me.”

“Tutor-dumped? How do you…” he trailed off. 

“I get an email when you make a change request, Bucky.” 

He stared at you for a moment, lips parted and unmoving. He clenched his jaw a moment later, a red tint adorning his cheeks. 

“Well, you—you—look, I know you don’t like me, y/n. You’ve made that clear,” he stuttered, words getting louder as he moved his hands around with each one. “But I like you. I like when you get mad at me and when you yell at me for not listening and when you get all embarrassed when I play with your hair. And I’ve been trying to get you to come to one of my parties since we started this whole thing, but every time I talk about them you seem to like me even less. 

“If I had known insulting you would get your attention, I woulda done that week one,” he exasperated. You sat up in your seat but he continued. “I didn’t mean any of that shit you thought I did. You’re not boring. And I didn’t mean to kiss you, but you looked—well, I already told you.” 

“So you don’t want me to be your tutor anymore because you like me?” You spoke slowly, each word careful. 

“No,” he sighed, frustrated. “I can’t be around you because I kissed you and you didn’t care. Because I’ll want to kiss you all the time and you didn’t even wanna kiss me once. I know we were drunk, I get that, but I’ve wanted that for a long time and I need to move on. It’s nothing against your… tutoring skills. If that’s what you’re worried about” 

“But you talk about hooking up with other girls all the time, Bucky. To me.” 

“You ever hear of lying?”

“Why would you—” 

“You really gonna make me live out all of my failures with you?” 

You’d read so many things wrong. Taken so many things the wrong way. You figured the email earlier was the final nail in the coffin, but this was something else entirely. This was Bucky, sitting next to you in his car looking distressed and frazzled with his hair six different directions, telling you that he’s been trying to get your attention since he met you. That you weren’t small or insignificant or boring. 

It was probably a terrible idea to follow through with your next thought. You’d probably get hurt in the long run. But you did it anyway. 

“I wanted you to kiss me.” Bucky’s head whipped towards you. You bit the inside of your cheek and said, “I want you to kiss me all the time.” 

He whispered your name. It sounded like the air had left every corner of his body. But he didn’t move, and you needed to rectify that. 

“You’re infuriating,” you began. Bucky cringed, but you needed to explain as he had. “You’re like the antithesis of everything I want out of college. You don’t care about classes. You’re always late. You talk too loud in the library.” 

You took a deep breath, fiddling with the loose thread of your pants. You couldn’t make eye contact with anything but the ground. 

“But then you know my coffee order when I’ve never told it to you. You save me from losers in parking lots and make sure I’m not drunk out of my mind at your obscene party. You make me feel… you make me feel stupid sometimes. And I thought it was because you’re everything I’m not, but I really think it’s because you’re everything I told myself I should stay away from. But I don’t want to.

“I wanted you to kiss me at that party and I want you to kiss me now.” 

“Then get over here. I’m not kissing you over some bullshit center console.” 

You twisted to follow his directions, gasping as his hands clasped around your waist to tug you into his lap. It wasn’t seamless—there was laughing and your head briefly connected with the roof of the car—but Bucky’s touch was everywhere, soothing the uncertainty and fear and slight headache. 

His forehead connected with yours when you felt secure in his arms. His fingers slid down from your waist over the material of your sweatpants and when he spoke next you felt the words on your own lips.

“You’re wearing sweatpants. You get so mad when I wear sweatpants.” 

You laughed. “I get mad because it usually means you just rolled out of bed, and you’re usually. late.” 

“I got a secret,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’m never late. And I only wear those sweatpants around you. You get cute when you’re pissed at me.” 

“Well, I’m about to be really cute—”

He kissed you. You’d have plenty of time to argue later.

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

☒ Summary: Your heart felt full as Alastor continued his lead. You both danced to the melodic sounds, relishing in the shared embrace. That night was one that you cherished for months to come. But on the contrary, your blossoming relationship with Alastor solidified the beginning of the end. 

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, prequel to the first two parts, alastor and reader are human in this part, 1930's period typical misogyny (NOT from alastor), fluff, falling in love, obsessive!alastor, reader is in hell for a reason, murder, gunshot wound, major character death, one suggestive scene involving finger sucking *giggles*, domestic!alastor, reader and alastor being an absloute power couple, blood, alcohol consumption, dancing

☒ Word Count: 6,276

You often dreamt of trading places with your dear old friend, Elaine. She had it all; money, family, respect.

You, on the other hand, had none of those things.

When your parents left without notice on your eleventh birthday— you ended up homeless in a matter of weeks. Elaine’s family took you in out of pity, and they made it very known throughout your childhood that they only cared for you to make themselves out to be saints. It didn't take a fool to see that they treated their own flesh and blood better than the rubble they picked up off the streets.

Elaine was often condescending toward you, but you put up with the brunt of it. It's not like you had any other choice- and when her father offered you a typist gig at his local radio broadcasting studio- you had no other option but to accept.

Your treatment from others at the studio was no better than the one you received at home. 

If you could even call that loveless place a home.

The broadcasting biz was male-dominated, as most jobs were in your day. So, of course your counterparts looked down upon you as a woman. You were less than to them, and the constant berating about how you should be wed by now with kids to dote on ticked you off even further.

That was not on the itinerary for you. 

The plan was to save enough of the slim earnings you made being a typist to run far away from this place. To be free of these people, from this town. You dreamt about how lovely it would be not to bite your tongue and endure all the nasty things people spat at you just to have a roof over your head.

Soon, just a little bit longer. 

Grin and bear it. Don't let them know what you hide behind the façade.

"My, my! What a lovely smile!" A smooth voice pulled you from your stupor. You flinched back from your desk as the man standing before you ducked low- extending his hand.

"What's your name, little darling? I'm Alastor! It's a pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure!" You took the man's hand, shaking it slowly sharing your name, and offering the same pleasantries, before peering up to get a good look at this Alastor fellow.

Based on first impressions, you thought he was a well-put-together fellow. His crimson vest hugged his slender frame well, you noted. His white dress shirt underneath contrasted beautifully with the seamless leather gloves adorning his large hands. The black bowtie was simply the cherry on top of his polished look. His features were handsome, and that darling smile of his caused your face to grow hot. His chestnut eyes peered at you behind his round-framed glasses, gazing at you as if you hung the stars in the night sky. 

You had never been captivated by a man until this very instant. You always believed romance was a waste of time. But now... you weren't feeling as opposed.

"Say, what brings a fella like you to a place like this?" You stood from your seat as his hand released yours. His gloved fingertips lingered on your palm for a moment- but it was long enough for you to notice.

"Why a job, of course! You're looking at the new host of the biggest radio broadcast in all of Louisiana!" Alastor's grin widened as he puffed out his chest proudly, bringing his hands up to straighten out his bowtie.

"Oh, my! Congratulations, Mister. I look forward to working with you." Your voice was as lively as ever, putting in your best effort to come off as friendly. Alastor's deep chestnut eyes studied yours. It was almost intimidating. 

Almost.

"Just call me Alastor, my dear! A beauty such as yourself is more than qualified to be on a first-name basis with me." His flirtatious nature had your heart rate accelerating at an alarming gait. Plus, the wink he shot your way to emphasize his statement only added fuel to the fire.

You were at a loss for words, simply nodding in agreement at his terms. Your gaze averted from Alastor's as you rubbed at your arm nervously. You had never been this flustered before. It was... uncharacteristically exciting for you. "Excuse my fowardness darling, but would you allow me to take you dancing tonight? It is a cause for celebration, after all!"

His offer left you stammering as you clutched your arm tightly, your sweaty palm bleeding through your vermilion dress sleeve. "Are you positive you want to celebrate with a woman you only just met?" You chuckled nervously, meeting his gaze once more.

"It would be my pleasure, little darling." You swore your heart skipped a beat as those words left his lips. Alastor was an enigma of a man, and he left you needing to know more about him. "If you insist! I'm flattered, truly."

Alastor chuckled lowly at your words as he took ahold of your hand once more. This time, he turned your palm downward before pulling the back of your hand up to his lips. Alastor's eyes bored into yours as he placed a chaste kiss atop your knuckles. His lips lingered on your skin for a few beats longer until he inevitability abjured from you.

"Lovely! I'll be waiting in the lobby once the workload is finished for the day. Meet me there?" You could only nod in agreement as your heartbeat resounded in your ears. Alastor bid you farewell, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He just asked you on a date- didn't he? 

Shit, shit- shit! A relationship was not on your to-do list.

The workday trickled on slowly. You were beside yourself— too focused on your plans with Alastor tonight.

Was your dress formal enough? It’s not like you could go home and change now— and you didn’t have the proper heels on. The pair that you usually switched into before you went dancing.

It would be fine— why were you even stressing over the little details?

More importantly… what were Alastor’s intentions with this— date?

You mulled it over the whole trip to the lobby of your workplace. You felt your nerves prickle your skin when your eyes met Alastor’s. 

He was already waiting patiently for you near the exit. Alastor had a blazer on now, you noted— and he was smiling wider than ever. “Ah, there you are! Ready to head out, dear?”

Alastor’s voice was equivalent to a smooth amaretto. Silky and delightful, with a little bit of an edge to it. Your mouth felt like it was full of cotton from the nerves— and all you could muster was a quick nod.

“Wonderful! We better get going while the night is still young— ha!” Alastor opened the door, tilting his head; gesturing toward the exit. You got the hint, wobbly legs guiding you out of the building and to the dimly lit street.

You knew a speakeasy just up the other street, so you figured that was the spot Alastor intended on taking you. As your feet led you in the direction of the bar, Alastor let out an amused hum. “My, my… am I correct to assume you know your way around these parts of town?” You giggled nervously, as you felt Alastor’s arm brush up against yours as he walked beside you.

“You’re spot on. I’ve lived here all my life, and for a brief period, I was living on these streets.” Your voice was quiet as those words left your lips. Perhaps you should have kept that detail to yourself. You kept your eyes forward as you walked along the sidewalk. But you could feel Alastor’s eyes on you— without peeking over.

“Might I ask why, darling?” You swallowed harshly, not expecting a follow-up question. You secretly hoped Alastor would have skirted past that little detail about your past. “Ah well, my parents moved out of town on my eleventh birthday. I think they forgot what day it was, truthfully. They were too hopped up on pills and booze,” You laughed bitterly at the memory before continuing. “My parents owed the bank a lot of money, you see, so the first thing those brokers collected was the house I still lived in at the time.”

You shook your head in disbelief, scoffing as you continued the recollection of your youth. “Those money-hungry sharks didn’t even give me a month to collect my things or find somewhere to shack up. When the cops arrived, I told them I’d be staying with a relative— but that was a bold-faced lie!” The speakeasy was in your sights, so you tried to get to the end of this pitiful little tail. “Long story short— I lived on the streets for a couple of weeks until my friend’s parents took me in.”

Alastor swiftly opened the bar door for you, gesturing you in. You were met by the smooth sound of jazz the moment you stepped foot in the joint. The smell of cigarettes and liquor saturated the space. Alastor interlocked your arm with his as he led you to a nearby table. You felt heat rush to your face from the unexpected touch. “I’m truly sorry you had to experience such hardships at such a young age, my dear. That must have been very difficult for you to process.” Alastor’s voice was soft as he offered his sympathy. He pulled the wooden chair out, allowing you to sit comfortably. Alastor gently pushed your seat in before taking his across from you.

“Thanks for saying so. You’re the first person to actually consider my feelings.” You chuckled, raising your hand and gesturing your fingers in a come hither motion to grab the waiter's attention. “What ever do you mean?” Alastor propped his elbows on the table, cupping his face with his hands as he leaned forward. His eyes swirled with curiosity. Alastor was genuinely curious to know you better— your heart skipped a beat from the notion.

“Well— most people just praise Elaine— that’s my friend… if you could even call her that— anyway, as I was saying! Most folks boast about how heavenly Elaine’s parents are for taking in a poor old nobody like me.” The waitress knew you well, so he kindly placed your usual atop the creaky table. One for you and one for your date. You offered the fellow a warm thanks before taking a sip.

“Praise? Those folks did the bare minimum! Tell me more about your friendship with Elaine, hm?” Alastor didn’t bother downing the liquor just yet. He was too enthralled by you and your musings. You felt nervous under his curious eyes— so you took another sip of the saccharine quencher before continuing. “You sure—? I feel like I’ve been talking an awful lot, and where are my manners? I haven’t asked you a single thing!” You shook your head in disbelief, feeling embarrassed with yourself for your rude display.

Alastor’s gloved fingers wrapped around your hand in the blink of an eye. Your eyes flickered down to where the two of you were now connected before his voice tore your gaze back to his face. “Nonsense, my dearest! Please, I insist. I’d be delighted to know more about you.” His words were so earnest, and he spoke with much confidence. All you could focus on was the feeling of his gloved fingertips caressing the back of your palm and the echo of your heartbeat resounding in your ears.

“Alright— if you insist… but if I ramble too much, just tell me to shut it, will ya?” You downed the last of your drink as a laugh escaped Alastor. “I would never silence you, darling. Don’t ever allow a single soul to treat you that way for that matter, understood? Now, carry on!” You felt your blood pressure spike from his kindness, and your hand twitched under his grasp from the giddiness you felt before you continued on. “U-Understood. Anyway, um, Elaine is an old-school buddy of mine. But we grew apart the older we got… so, by the time we reached junior high, she practically hated my guts!” You laughed at the recollection as the alcohol buzz began to kick in.

“Elaine would make up nasty rumors about me and then deny the fact that she did. Any other friend I tried to make, Elaine would somehow do or say something to make them dislike me. I couldn’t do anything about it— I had to play nice because of the living conditions. I still do!” Alastor’s eyes never left yours, and neither did his hand. He continued to rub the back of your palm soothingly as you rambled on.

“Even my job at the radio station… it wasn’t my choice. But Elaine’s father owns the company, so he offered me the typist position. Not like it was really an offer, though— I had no choice but to accept the opportunity. Otherwise, I would have been ungrateful. Christ, I really hate those folks… they look at me as if I’m—“

“—Scum?” Alastor chimed in. His voice was low as he leaned in closer. Your head was a bit fuzzy from the alcohol as you felt his breath fan across your cheeks. “Yeah… like scum.” You felt his hand tighten around yours. His smile was smaller than before, a bit more rigid, for that matter. 

“I knew you and I were the same. The moment laid eyes on you, I knew,” Alastor paused, bringing his free hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You see, I was treated that same way my entire life, my dear. Until I decided I was quite the opposite of what those disrespectful wretches deemed me as.” His hand lingered by your face, daring to cup your cheek. 

Alastor's breath had a hint of coffee and spice to it— you noted— as his face inched even closer to yours. “And you are too, my dear. Those fools don’t hold a candle to your magnificence.” Your body felt light, and all you could focus on was Alastor’s chestnut eyes— every breath you took fogged up his glasses a little.

“You really think so?” You muttered, a lazy grin stretching across your face as Alastor finally allowed his gloved palm to rest against your cheek. 

"I know so, my sweet girl.” He caressed your burning face with much tenderness. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, and your thoughts were all out of sorts as you tried to articulate a proper sentence in your drunken stupor. 

“What did you mean before when you said— that you and I are one and the same?”

Alastor let out a soft chuckle, causing your eyes to flutter shut for a moment. He leaned over the table, invading your personal space. Dipping his face low— lips lingering next to your ear. “You use your smile as a tool. Hiding how you truly feel behind that pretty little mask of yours.” Your breath hitched from his words— was it that obvious? Could everyone tell that your welcoming smile was nothing but a lie? Before you could spiral further— and as if Alastor could sense your worries— he eased your mind with his words. “Worry not, my dear. Only I can see through your façade. One should recognize themselves when looking into a mirror, yes?”

Alastor slowly pulled his head back. Allowing his face to come into your line of sight. “So you… and I… are alike in that way, huh?” You mumbled out, letting an airy chuckle escape you. Alastor squeezed your hand once more before he leaned back in his chair. You watched as the man sitting before you picked up his untouched glass of liquor. He downed his drink in the blink of an eye slamming his glass against the table before standing up from his seat.

“I take pride in keeping my promises, and I have intention to dance with you tonight, my dear. So, shall we?” Alastor outstretched his hands toward you, his toothy grin cascading across his features. You took hold of him without hesitation, giggling youthfully when he pulled you to your feet with ease. “I’d be delighted!” Alastor wasted no time pulling you to the open floor. The music was as vibrant as ever now that you were closer to the live band. The vibrations of the music reverberated through your sternum; as did the butterflies when you felt Alastor’s large palm drape around the small of your back.

His other hand took ahold of yours, and instinctively, you placed your other palm flat against his shoulder. Alastor began leading you to the melody of the song. Your cheeks hurt from how wide your grin was. You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled and meant it before tonight— all thanks to this mysterious man you met today. “Alastor, I know we only just met, but I feel like I’ve known you all my life!” You shouted loud enough for only Alastor to hear beyond the music. His chestnut eyes swirled with an emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on as his eyebrows lifted in shock.

“You took the words right out of my mouth, my dearest! The moment I saw you, I knew you would be truly magnificent.” Alastor dipped you low, his grasp on you tightening to support you. He was slow when he dragged your upper half back up, allowing your chest to slot against his own. 

“Well, did I meet your expectations?” You joked. Alastor ducked his head low, allowing his face to invade your personal space. This time, his nose brushed against yours, lips mere centimeters from colliding. 

“You exceeded them.” Alastor’s voice was quiet, but you heard him. Loud and clear. 

This moment felt too good to be true, and the longer you gazed into his captivating eyes, the more lost you became in Alastor. Your lips trembled in anticipation— and your hand at his shoulder clenched and unclenched— a small habit to help ease the nerves. 

“Would it be foolish of me to say that I… feel like I’m falling for you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you searched for any displeasure that dared to cross his face from your confession— but you found none.

“And if I admitted to reciprocating those feelings… would that make me outlandish as well?” Alastor’s hand released yours, now opting to slide up between your bodies to cup your chin beneath his gloved fingertips. He tilted your head up just a touch more. 

Alastor finally closed the gap between your lips and his. Your eyes widened in shock from the chaste kiss he gave you. You caught Alastor’s intense stare on you while he pressed further into you before your eyelids fluttered shut. The grip you had on his shoulder tightened as his lips danced along yours. They were warm and cracked slightly from his incessant smiling. But you didn’t mind it one bit. He tasted of your favorite liquor and conviction. 

Your mind went fuzzy from the mix of alcohol running through your bloodstream and the feeling of sharing your very first kiss with a man you met only earlier today.

It’s strange. Even though you only crossed paths with Alastor this morning— he was the first person in your life to ever see you; the real you. The woman you kept hidden behind a plethora of masks and musings. You prided yourself on your foolproof façade, so when Alastor just waltzed past your guarded walls, it threw you for a loop. But this change of pace was the best thing that could have ever happened to you. For the first time in your life, you felt a sense of control over your own life— over your own freedom. Alastor believed in you, so why shouldn’t you believe in yourself?

Alastor parted his lips from yours slowly, savoring the moment with you for as long as he could. Your eyelids peeled open, taking in Alastor's pleased countenance. "Oh, my darling. There's no way I'm letting you out of my sight now."

Your heart felt full as Alastor continued his lead. You both danced to the melodic sounds, relishing in the shared embrace. That night was one that you cherished for months to come. But on the contrary, your blossoming relationship with Alastor solidified the beginning of the end. 

You could hardly stay away from Alastor after your first date. It was as if a magnetic force was pulling you to him. He walked you home from the radio station each night and met you at your doorstep each morning. He even told you one time that he memorized absloutely every part of your day so you could always have time for each other. It was the little things that made you fall even harder for him. Alastor would leave a bouquet of roses atop your desk every Friday when you took your lunch break so that when you arrived back, you would be pleasantly surprised by his gesture.

Alastor was a proper gentleman, and his kindness and care toward you almost made you forget about the rotten things in your life— almost.

Elaine grew jealous of your new beau. She noticed you were livelier than ever, and that just wouldn't cut it. Misery loves company, after all.

She had her father triple your workload, forcing you to stay after hours. It took a toll on you and made it harder to keep time for Alastor. 

But that wasn’t all— your room would be trashed by the time you came home. And somehow, your very few belongings started going missing. 

The last of your patience went out the window when you noticed the locket Alastor gifted you for your one-month anniversary was nowhere to be found. 

It didn’t take a genius to realize Elaine was behind your sudden stroke of bad luck. You put up with the torment all your life, but not anymore. You were at your wits end with Elaine and her arrogant family. 

“Christ, I hate that wicked woman!” You groaned in frustration as you barged into Alastor’s apartment. The lanky man whipped his head in your direction from where he sat at the piano. His fingers stilled against the keys, ending his song with a dull note. “What did she do this time, my dear?” You stormed over to him before slotting yourself beside Alastor on the piano bench. 

“The locket you gave me for our one-month anniversary is missing! She stole it— I just know it!” You gritted through bared teeth. Alastor wrapped an arm around your shoulder, hugging you close to his side as he cooed at you. “You know, the offer to move in with me still stands.” His voice was gentle as he placed a kiss atop your head. His large palm smoothed over your arm; in an attempt to ease your nerves. 

Heat rose to your face from the mention of his proposition. Sure, you thought about it countlessly. But you and Alastor were only approaching that six-month mark of your flourishing relationship. You always believed in the notion of waiting to live with a partner until after marriage. That’s what you conveyed Alastor. “You know we can’t… unless you are willing to get hitched tomorrow,” You joked, turning your head slightly to peer up at him. 

“Darling, you know I would marry you in a heartbeat. But one of us is not ready for marriage quite yet!” He quipped, dipping low and nuzzling his nose into yours. Your heart did a flip from his unyielding confession. 

You knew Alastor would do anything for you at this point— this man was like no other. He worshipped the ground you walked on, yet you still were on the fence about marriage. You still had your personal goals you wanted to achieve before tying the knot, and Alastor respected your wishes. But you knew deep down he was aching to put a ring on your finger and claim you as his for good. 

“Hey— don’t tease! I just… It’s becoming harder to put up with their nonsense. I wish they would all disappear! Elaine, her father, and her mother.” You let out a long sigh as your body slumped forward. You rested your head atop Alastor’s broad shoulder, smiling softly at his familiar scent. 

“Well, I could make that a reality for you, my sweet girl.” Alastor’s voice was low and dripping with mystery. You laughed at his cryptic utterance. “Yeah, by doing what? Throwing them in a ditch?” You joked, raising a brow as his hand halted against your arm. The air became thick with tension as the silence grew louder. 

“…Well yes, my dear! But the ditch part would be after all the fun.” You quickly turned to face him, your frantic eyes scanning his features for any semblance of falsehood. You found nothing of the sort. 

Alastor’s features were as relaxed as ever. As if he asked you something as mundane as 'what day was it?’

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Your voice was level as your eyes locked with his chestnut ones. You nervously anticipated his response. “Quite so! Have you noticed the lack of journalists around the radio station lately?" His question threw you for a loop. 

Now that you thought about it- yeah, there has been a lack of jerks around the office. The same fellows that undermined you just for existing. 

“Well now that you mention it— yeah, I have. What does that have to do with anything?” You tilted your head slightly, still not following where your boyfriend was going with this. Alastor’s grin sharpened as his eyes flickered to your lips. “My, dearest, you are too pure for your own good. It drives me crazy.” Alastor’s other hand drifted from the piano keys. His thumb and forefinger came up to grasp your chin. He pulled you in close as his eyes flickered back to yours. 

“Well, I took care of those nasty good-for-nothings! They are resting comfortably in a ditch deep within the preserve. So, no need to worry your pretty little head over it!” Your eyes widened from his confession— his even tone and frenzied stare proved that what he said was factual. 

“They had it coming! Speaking down to you in such a way. I could hardly stand it any longer, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.” Alastor sounded pleased with himself as he confessed to murder so casually. Your eyebrows rose in shock as he tugged you closer. Your lips ghosted over his. “You killed those men for my sake?” 

You could smell the whiskey on his breath from this proximity. Alastor’s hand— that rested on your arm— now found purchase around your waist. “Indeed, and I would do it again in a heartbeat for your sake.” You could sense his anticipation to kiss you at that moment. 

His love for you was suffocating in the best way possible. You didn’t know you were capable of drowning until you sank into his touch. “And I would take pleasure in ending Elaine and her parents’ lives. If it meant your precious mind would be at ease.” 

Your heart fluttered as you closed the gap. Your lips molded against his, moving in tandem. You turned your body toward him through your shared embrace, sliding a leg up and over the piano bench— now straddling the seat. Alastor’s grip on your waist tightened. His fingertips twitched with need as they danced further along your side. You reached out for him, desperately carding your hands through his chestnut locks. Alastor’s chest pressed tightly into yours as his lips moved against yours with a searing desire. You only dared to pull back when your lungs started burning. Alastor rested his forehead against yours as you shared the same air. 

“You really mean it?” You asked breathlessly, allowing your hands to cup his cheeks. 

“My dear, I would die for you,” Alastor paused, the pad of his thumb swiping across your bottom lip sensually. 

“I would lie for you,” His thumb pushed past your parted lips, and your tongue instinctively swirled around his deft digit. 

“I would happily follow you to hell if you asked me to.” You gave his finger a playful suck, reveling in the sight of Alastor’s deep blush. 

His chestnut gaze fixated on your mouth as you pulled off of his thumb with a wet pop. Alastor shuddered at your sultry display. His grip on your waist was firm. 

“Please, Alastor. I want to be a part of it this time. We will be unstoppable together.” 

Alastor swore he fell in love with you a thousand times over the moment those words left your lips. You couldn’t be any more perfect for him. 

Alastor wanted to tell the whole world about the colors he saw in your eyes; the colors a man out of love could never recognize. He truthfully would have married you the first day you met. It was fixation at first sight. 

He was overjoyed to commit murder alongside you— one of the many memorable first times you would come to share. Alastor saw the pieces fall into place before his very eyes the moment he witnessed you take someone’s life. 

The frenzied stare you harbored; the blood spattering over your perfect face, decorating your smile in a picturesque way. Alastor swore meeting you was his life purpose, and assisting you on your first kill solidified that sentiment for him. 

Alastor could not suppress the urge to touch you at that moment. He pulled you close, taking the lead like many times before. You danced around the dead bodies, laughter filling the barren space as the record player skipped from the other room. 

He always knew red was your color. The first time you met, you were wearing a vermillion dress. But the deep crimson blood covering you from head to toe was your best look yet— he thought. 

After you both hid the evidence and any proof of life— fabricating notes on Elaine and her parents' behalf to make it seem like they went abroad— you celebrated. 

Celebrated the past no longer having you in its clutches. 

Celebrated the freedom of never having to grin and bear it to survive; ever again. 

Celebrated the ever-growing love you held for Alastor— as he did you. 

Celebrated the new beginnings and the best that was yet to come. 

You saw life in a new light from that day forward, seizing each day with delight. 

With Elaine’s father out of the picture, Alastor became the man in charge at the radio station. He had full creative freedom to take his radio show in any direction he pleased. If folks dared to disagree, Alastor would promptly take care of them. 

Business was booming for Alastor at the radio station, and you were finally out pursuing hobbies and careers that inspired you. 

Alastor ended up popping the question a couple of months later as things began to settle down for you both. It was romantic, really. His gesture was over the top and grand in the best way possible but still entirely authentic to Alastor. You finally felt ready to take the next step in your relationship. And so, you said yes. 

Alastor was over the moon when you agreed. You could have sworn you saw a single tear roll down his cheek— but he denies it vehemently. 

You didn’t have any friends or family, and neither did Alastor— with his mom having passed years prior, so you truthfully had no need for a grand ceremony. Alastor sorted out the date for you to be wed. The anticipation only elevated your excitement by the day. And when the date finally approached, you could hardly contain your joy. 

You took on the day like any other— you made breakfast, hung the laundry on the clotheslines, participated in your favorite pastimes, and met up with Alastor in the preserve to assist him in burying his most recent victim. 

You didn’t know the dead fellow, but you were sure Alastor had a fair reason for killing him. The man probably took the last jar of special spice from the store that Alastor used to recreate his mother’s jambalaya— and in that case, the prick had it coming. 

It was dusk. The sky was a mesmerizing red and orange ombré as you walked hand in hand through the woods with Alastor. Your free hand held a shovel, and his free hand gripped the ankle of the deceased man whom he dragged from behind along the rocky path. Now and then, the dead man’s clothing would cling to a stubborn stone, making Alastor halt in his stride. You would share a chuckle before he tugged the man free, continuing down the path with you by his side. 

You were so excited to get this over with, so you could head to the courthouse with your beloved Alastor. As you recited your vows in your head, you suddenly heard a loud boom before your hearing failed you entirely. Everything was motionless after that. 

Your mind scarcely processed what had happened until you turned to face Alastor. The sight before you had your stomach in knots. Your beloved was bleeding from his forehead, and as if you were in slow motion— your arms reached up to him as his legs buckled beneath him. You knew you were screaming by the burning sensation in your throat, but your ears were still ringing in a deafening manner. The last thing your conscious mind ever saw was the grim view of all light leaving Alastor’s eyes. 

Those same eyes that grounded you. That brought you purpose and offered you nothing but love and devotion.

All of that was gone in a split second.

After that, you felt a searing pain in your head before your vision went dark. 

It was as if you were underwater. You felt lighter than air as you sunk deeper into uncharted waters. You could hear muffled voices and flashing lights shining from the surface— but it was all out of reach. You just sunk peacefully. Enjoying the enshrouding darkness. 

However, your peace was torn from you as quickly as it was obtained. 

“She’s a Jane Doe. Poor girl got caught in the crossfire. I bet she didn’t even know the guy she was walking with was a serial killer!” Your eyes burned from the bright lights and the nauseating white ceiling that took up your line of sight as the distant people continued to chatter. “I bet he tricked her into thinking he was a good guy— bet he led her out in those woods just so he could kill her like that poor fellow he was dragging out there!” 

The rhythmic beeping increased as all your focus shifted to the intense shooting pain coming from your head. “Oh— she’s awake! Miss, can you hear me?” You groaned softly as an older woman came into your line of sight. She was peering over you. You must have been lying down— you thought. 

“Loud and clear.” You mumbled, trying to sit up only to be pushed back down by the stranger. “Miss you can’t do that! You’re in the hospital. You suffered from a severe injury. Please, don’t make any sudden movements.” Her words took a moment to process through your semi-conscious mind. 

“What happened to me?” You managed to mutter as you closed your eyes. The intense lights were causing your head to ache even worse. “Miss, you were shot in the head. It was a hunting accident gone wrong,” The nurse paused, giving you a moment to digest her words before continuing. 

“Turns out the man you were out in those woods with was a wanted serial killer. That Alastor fellow was an active murderer for decades! The papers say he was good at steering clear of the cops for all these years. The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer,” Your mind was struggling to piece things together as the nurse rambled along. 

“The bullet you took probably was the exact reason you’re still alive! Who knows what that maniac would have done to you? Which reminds me, do you remember your name, sweetheart? You didn’t have identification on your person. We asked around the area to see if anyone recognizes you, but we've had no luck with that.” 

You were surely dreaming, right? 

Everything this woman was saying sounded outlandish. How did you even end up in a situation like that, and more importantly— 

Wait… what is your name? 

“I… I don’t know. I can’t… remember a thing.” You shook your head, which only caused you more pain as your eyes shot open. You were still met by the sight of the noisy nurse, and the white hospital walls. 

Nope, not a dream.

The nurse looked at you with a horrified look. “Oh geez… the doctor said your injury could cause memory loss, but it was a slim chance. Let me go fetch him. This is way out of my pay grade.” The sound of her footsteps echoed through your head before they slowly dissipated. You gaped up at the blank wall. 

A clean slate, nothing to give the surface any character. 

Ironic. 

You had no clue who you were and no memories of your life before this accident. 

You were left with more questions than answers. 

The only thing you knew about yourself was that you were one of many Jane Doe's. 

Fuck.

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz

[churipu]

SURPRISE COOKIES FOR MAMA 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. nanami kento x female! reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. both of you have a three year old daughter, broken conversations from your daughter bcs she's a kiddo, i'm leaving all of you to name your daughter.

note. midterm week, i'm going to try uploading, but if i don't, just know that it's not me ignoring my wips or you. love you all mwah <33

"this me!" (daughter) pointed at an old picture of . . . a young you with a blue thin strap floral sun dress posing cutely in front of the camera — a big smile on your face, showing off your pearly whites, "i pretty."

nanami who had his back leaning on the couch could only muster out a soft chuckle, he had his hand on the young girl's small waist to hold her up right; preventing a tumble or two, "that's mama. she looks lovely, doesn't she?"

(daughter) craned her head up to face nanami, her e/c doe eyes blinking, ears unbelieving that the portrait was her mother, "mama? no, this me! i so pretty," she pointed her chubby finger towards the portrait, which is undeniably almost as big as she is.

"mhm, that's mama," nanami caressed his daughter's head lovingly, "you do look a lot like mama, you know?" he whispers, eyeing the portrait (daughter) had laying on her small lap.

half a decade ago — nanami told himself that he isn't fit to be a family man; he swore the both of you talked about kids, and how you'd both wait at least until later on into the marriage. but (daughter) was a surprise pregnancy, and the best thing that has ever happened to the both of you.

"this no mama, this me papa," (daughter) pouts, her soft lips puckering out slightly.

nanami used his free hand to flip the photo album, showing a picture of (daughter) as a newborn. a pink colored bandana around her small head, eyes shut in content, "this is you the day you were born," he cooed out, letting his daughter take in the picture.

what a bundle of joy she is. nanami remembered every second he spent inside the delivery room by your side — letting you dig your fingers inside his flesh, because he knew the pain that you were going through at that moment couldn't compare to anything else that he was feeling. all he cared about was you and his daughter.

"this me?" (daughter)'s meek voice resounds. nanami nodded, eyes gazing into his daughter's doe ones, "i so pretty."

nanami smiled warmly, "yes, you are pretty, just like mama," he compliments; pinching her chubby cheeks gently, "it still surprises me how you're an exact copy of your mama . . ." he pats her head, his palm engulfing her whole head.

(daughter) nods her head vigorously, "mama and me twins!" she cheers happily, kicking her feet.

the male chuckles, "mhm, twins," he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up — standing as he puts the picture album on top of the coffee table that sat in the middle of your living room, "mama's coming home soon."

"we take cookies out of cooler, papa," (daughter) pats her father's cheeks gently before wrapping an arm around his neck to hook herself close to nanami, "warm for mama."

nanami vaguely remembered the day he passed by a baking class near his office. where he first saw you, holding onto a young boy's hand — no younger than six years of age, guiding him to whisk what seemed to be cake batter. he stood out of the glass pane, staring into the class for at least the next three minutes out of his twenty-four hours just to look at you.

he thought you looked pretty (and the display cake looked pretty as well, but that was besides the point).

but he never saw you again until three months later at the same place, and you noticed him. surprising. considering he was staring yet again for the second time. but he didn't think that you'd go out your way to talk to him right at that moment — and he was thankful you did.

"mhm, we're going to warm it up for mama," with ease, nanami opened the cooler and grabbed a plate of messily made classic chocolate chip cookies wrapped with saran wrap. (daughter) contributed to most of the procedure, and nanami thought it was the third most beautiful thing besides you and her. he's a proud dad.

the process of warming the cold cookies was short — with (daughter) prepped on top of the counter, with nanami's arms right by her sides. the two of them smiling at each other in silence, waiting for the oven to let out the satisfying 'ding!', hopefully before you came through the door.

unfortunately, things don't always go the way he wanted. and there you were, with your usual (color) coat slung over your arm, heaving out an exhausted sigh, mumbling out a soft, "i'm home."

(daughter)'s head turn to face the door, eyes widening in panic as she then faced nanami, "mama home, papa," she whispers, covering her mouth to hold back a loud giggle.

nanami nuzzled his nose into hers, "want to go hide from mama?"

the young girl nods her head, almost immediately wrapping her arms around her father's neck, "go go go, papa, hide, hide!" she whispers, giggling as she fit her small face into the crook of nanami's neck.

nanami laid a hand behind his daughter's head, he passed by you who had just walked through the short hall leading towards the living room, sending out a slight signal through his eyes as he walks into (daughter)'s sage colored room. he laid the young girl down onto the rugged floor, "go go, hide from mama."

the girl wasted no time scurrying under her bed, giggling softly. on the other hand, nanami walked out of her room with a small smile, approaching you.

"something smells good," you greet the male, opening your arms for a hug. i mean — what else do you need after a long day of work besides a warm hug from your husband?

nanami's arms felt like a blanket engulfing your body, he buckled his knees slightly to press a short kiss on your lips, "(daughter) has your baking abilities, 'm not surprised. good day at work?"

you nod, "tiring day, a boy spilt heavy cream all over the floor and his mother blamed us for it," nanami's face hardened a bit after hearing your story, "she practically went on a cursing spree in front of the kids, the cops had to restrain her."

the male grazed his finger on your cheek, "i'm sorry about that, she didn't hurt you, did she?"

you shook your head, "no worries, where's my baby, hm?"

nanami pinched your nape gently, "she wanted to surprise you with her cookies, she's in her room hiding. go see her and i'll be there with the cookies, yes?"

"you're too nice to me," you jokingly said.

"just to you," he rolled his eyes, brushing his lips over the hollow of your nose, "go, go. she's waiting for you."

you pulled yourself away from his embrace, putting your coat on top of the kitchen's counter before sauntering over to (daughter)'s room, knocking on her door. which resulted in an indubitable string of laughter from your own blood and flesh from under the bed, "baby? where're you?"

her soft and hushed giggles didn't stop when you step inside her room, "are you . . ." you pretended to open the closet, "here!"

and (daughter) stifled back a laugh when you failed to find her. and the next attempt, you squat down to eye under the bed, "there you are," her loud laughs finally chimed out, "give mama a hug, please?"

the young carbon copy of you crawled out from under the bed, immediately rushing to your lap to give you a warm hug, "i miss mama . . ." she pressed a kiss to your cheek, "mama miss me?"

you cradled her body back and forth, "mama misses you so much."

"i have surprise for mama," (daughter) abruptly pulled back from the hug, "surprise cookies for mama!"

the scent of chocolate entered your nostrils as nanami walked inside the room with a plate of freshly warmed chocolate chip cookies, "it's not a surprise anymore when you tell mama about it, isn't it?" he asks with a slight chuckle.

"'ts okay, mama still surprised. i bake cookies with papa," (daughter)'s eyes twinkled with happiness when nanami laid the plate down on the floor, "i bake cookies like mama. try try mama!"

and so you did, "'ts so yummy, good job, baby!"

nanami tugged on your arm towards him, slithering an arm around your waist, "'f course she did, you're her mama, y'know?" the male leaned in to place a short kiss to the tip of your nose.

(daughter) shrieks out, "papa cooties!"

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[kachowden]

i need more of the pervy fanboy yandere content please i miss him bye I love your work

Rage Quit

Obsessed!Fan x Streamer!Gn!reader

summary: Collin’s favorite streams are the ones where you lose your cool.

a/n: Collins a creep, perverted behavior, parasocial relationship, nsfw.(S/N) “Streamer Name”

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・

“No…no..no FUCK!”

Green eyes stared intently at the recording, watching as the content creator flopped back dramatically in their chair. Their eyes screwed in irritation, hands dug against the skin of their forehead as they dragged them down, exaggerating their expression.

Music played softly in his ears.

“Man…sorry guys I really thought we were gonna win that one..”

A ping went off, and Collins breath hitched, caught in his throat as he heard the little bot chime.

“BigRed donated 45$….‘Don’t worry (S/N), they just got lucky.’”

You snorted, that disappointed gleam in your eyes fading as you stretched with a groan. “You got that right Red, thanks for the Dono. I just wasn’t locked in, this next one guys, demolished. They’re screwed, royally.” You laughed, glancing at the chat wall, mumbling thank you’s and replies to other fans as you did, but he wasn’t listening.

His hand was to busy fisting the fabric of his gym shorts to listen, while his other sped across his keyboard. Click clack click clack.

His alt account.

“MushroomGhost donated 1000 bits….’Hey (S/C), it’s my best friends birthday…do you think you could say “Happy Birthday Collin”? That’d really make his day. Thank so much! Love the streams.”

He waited.

“Mmm….oh! Hey Ghost thank you for the bits..uh huh…oh, hey Collin! Happy birthday man hope you’re having a good day, thank you for the support! Love you lots!” Your hands curved together, a small heart formed in the gap as you grinned at the camera briefly.

His mouse clicked.

“Hey Collin!” Rewind. “Hey Collin!” Rewind. “Collin!”

“Fuck..” The saliva in his throat thickened, eyes watering as his cheeks burned red hot to the tips of his ears, his heart thundered in his chest violently.

His hand crept down. “Collin!”

Rewind.

“Collin!”

He gasped, lip ringing shining with the saliva that began to dribble down the side of his mouth, eyes fluttering. He felt like he was gonna pass out. He was sweating buckets but he didn’t wanna take the jacket off. It was your merch. It was signed. He couldn’t take it off.

His cock throbbed after being released from his shorts. Angry and red, swelling and pulsing as your voice rang and smashed into his skull.

“Collin!”

Rewind.

“Mmmmf- fuck…fuck..!”

He was being too rough. He whimpered behind the fabric of his hoodie, caught between his teeth and soaked in his saliva as his hand jerked so violently along his cock.

It wouldn’t take long. Never did with you.

But he needed to be quick. Your stream was almost over.

“Hey BigRed, what game should we play after this?”

“Shit!” White shot across his hands, sweatshirt, dripping onto the desk and floor as he heaved.

He cursed under his breath at the mess, but his vision swam and his head throbbed like he was drunk as his high began to crash back down again.

Number three.

Only 30 minutes left for number four.

“BigRed donated 100$….’Remember getting over it?’”

“Why do you always pick the ones that piss me off??”

[phas3d]

Crushing on You || Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: none

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: cute little loser things they do because they’re so down bad for you. inspired by the fucking masterpiece that is ONE DAY ONE NIGHTTTT AHHHHHH by bts ofc. some of these might be creepy but I think they’re cute

DRACO MALFOY

It’s always an enemies to lovers for him, he literally cannot get crushes on someone unless he hates their guts

Probably cause he got daddy issue but meh, we’re not solving that today

He HATED your guts, he has literally thought of getting a hit-man on you before

You’re his rival in every single aspect, even more than Harry is

Academics, you’re better

Athletics, you’re better

Clubs and community, you’re WAY better

He hates you and makes fun of you every single day and time he gets the chance

Even worse, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all come to defend you which makes him even more mad

But overtime, his aggressive staring and cursing under his breath turned into admiration

It all started when one day during Quidditch practice, some annoying 3rd year thought it would funny to mess with Draco’s broom

He ended up malfunctioning during practice, almost speeding into the walls of the school at astounding speeds

But luckily, you came just in time and yanked him off his broom, letting his broon get destroyed into the castle. But he was unharmed and was wrapped securely in your arms

From then on, he’s had a huge crush on you and all of his hatred turned into admiration

His aggressive stares were a bit softer and his insults had a hidden compliment in it

Everyone thinks that maybe he just feels bad and is finally regretting how rude he’s been to you, which is kinda true

He’s always watching over you, kinda like a stalker (because he is one)

He learns your daily routine, your favorite foods, clothing brands, makeup products, skincare routine, everything

Goes as far to hire and pay different students to watch after you if he’s busy

Somehow, you never notice and just think that people are nosy

He takes his research really far though, like straight up creepy

Draco gets his hands on all of your medical history, every single thing about you

He learns what your allergic too, what your rising sign is, how much you weigh at every check up

When he finds out that you’re anemic, he crushes up pills and sneakily adds it to your food to make sure you’re healthy

Does this with other things too, like Vitamin C, iron pills, etc etc etc

But in the end, it helps you a lot and makes you feel much better

And it makes him happy to know that you’re better because of him

One day, you get asked out by none other than Harry Potter

Instantly, Draco is enraged and everything in his sight is going to die a painful death

He feels betrayed by you despite treating you like utter shit for so many years

Not the mention he’s also gotten with maybe two or three other girls

He plans to ruin your date and he succeed

He burns Harry’s outfit, posses someone to spill hot tea on you, and even goes as far to sneak food you’re allergic to into your food

The date ends with you crying back to your dorm and Harry beating himself up

From this, Draco is happy and prepares to come and play knight-in-shining armor for you

But once again, he sees Harry comforting you and giving you a tight hug

Draco is literally about to kill Harry for this, cause ain’t no way he just did ALL of that for Harry to swoop in again

“You can’t take her! I loved her first! I love her more than your stupid four-eyed could ever!” He shouts at Harry

So yeah…. He just confessed out of rage

TOM RIDDLE

Never ever EVER will he get caught lacking for someone

This man keeps all of his lovey dovey feelings to himself, bro literally got a diary 😭

But when he saw you, and just like all of those dumb movies he’s seen, he was instantly love struck by you

He never knew that this was possible, he’s instantly disgusted with himself and does his best to the diminish the crush

But it won’t go away… you’re just perfect in every way

He’s so frustrated that he genuinely thinks of just killing you

But, thank GOD, he decides to not kill you and just become a stalker 😊

He finds out your entire schedule and walking path just so he can get small glimpses of you

Whenever you see him or make eye contact with him, he looks at you like you killed his entire family and he’s coming for revenge

But he’s actually drooling and hearing the most beautiful classical piano in the background

He sees you as a god/goddess that blessed him with your presence

Tom has always seen himself as the chosen one, the one given enough power to destroy and fix the world

And he sees you as his future Queen to the brand new world he will make :) kinda romanticccc

Finds all of your social media and stalks it for hours

He makes one of those fake burner accounts that looks like a bot

So when he follows you, you think nothing of it

But in reality, he’s watching you in depth

Bro finds your SPOTIFY and YOUR AO3 ACCOUNT… That’s how crazy he is

He made an entire playlist of every song you’ve ever posted and mentioned

He listens to it daily :)

Honestly, he’s just like me fr

He’s just a lil crazy and wants to know EVERYTHING about you

If you ever come up to him or are assigned partners, oh my god he’s gonna act so cold

Acts like he hates your guts and despises your existence

But in reality, he’s gonna thank every single religious figure out there for blessing him with allowing him to be in your space

MATTHEO RIDDLE

When he first saw you, he thought you were fine as hell

He was just trying to get into your pants

But when he tried to make a move, you scoffed and shoved him away

Instantly, he was attracted to you

He’s only been rejected like twice, and both times it ended with them begging on their knees for him

He was about to do the exact same thing to you

Unlike the others, he’s the only one that shows it and actively makes a move

Constantly flirts with you, no matter the time or day

Kinda like Filipino courtingggg 🤭

Finds all of your classes and walks you to all of them

Even though you want to walk with your friends, he won’t let you and always pulls you away from them

He skips his classes constantly just so he can be with you and flirt with you more

Even if you keep rejecting him or even slap him, he won’t stop. He loves when girls play hard to get

Sends you flowers, they’re a little bit ugly, but it’s the thought that counts

Sends you chocolates and stuffed animals to the point where a whole section of your dorm is dedicated to the pile of 65 stuffed animals you’ve received

He can’t really write poems or love songs, but he sends you little drawings that are barely readable

He makes little stick figures to represent you guys, one that’s super tall with abs (him) and another one that has hair and a triangle body (you)

Although you can barely understand his chicken scratch drawings, it makes you giggle from how stupid they are

Sometimes it’s him fighting off dragons, or you drowning and he saves you, or him being a rich king and you’re his queen

Never ever gives up on you, no matter what

Will fight off every single competition he has, he doesn’t care if they end up paralyzed

One time, someone older than you guys by one year tried to ask you out

Because he was a grade above you guys, he thought Mattheo wouldn’t fight him

But nopppeeee he was dead wrong, Mattheo sent him to the hospital wing repeatedly for a whole month

Even though the poor guy learned his lesson, Mattheo was mad that not only did he have the balls to ask you out but to also doubt Mattheo’s strength

Surprisingly, he cares a lot towards your friends as well and never leaves him out of the picture which is sweet

If you get a 100 roses from him (an almost daily occurrence), then he’ll get your best friends a small bouquet of 10-12 roses in return

If you get a huge chocolate box of the most expensive chocolates, then your friends get a small little wrapped box of a few chocolates

It’s really sweet and it makes your friends see that he’s actually pretty cool and sweet

Definitely goes around and lies to people by saying you two are dating

Eventually, everyone is fucking tired of you guys and basically sees you as a couple

One day, your friends say they’re gonna have a girls day and ask you to meet them at this nice restaurant

But surprise! The girls lied, you got all dressed up for nothing :(

But surprise again! Mattheo pops up. Your friends set you up with him to help you two to finally start dating

THEODORE NOTT

He’s had plenty of one night stands, weird situation-ships, and more but with you, he’s never had that

You’ve been his friend for ages, before he got hot and ripped

And he appreciated you a lot for that, he felt like he could finally be himself with someone

Over the years, he’s slowly gotten more and more comfortable with you

When he was going to bed, he thought to himself “I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)”

He smiled as he said that, about to sleep until his eyes shot wide open as he repeated what he said

“I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)??!???!!?”

When he realized he likes you, he’s a complete idiot

Normally with girls, he’s super smooth and charismatic - but that’s only because he’s trying to get into their pants

With you, you knew all his tactics and how awful of a person he can and HAS been over the years

You’ve seen him cheat, yell, and sometimes be borderline abusive to his past girlfriends

He starts to worry about how you perceive him and wants to make sure he seems like a good option

He becomes so awkward around you, it’s painful

Starts to be way nicer to you than he ever has been and becomes a lot more chivalrous

He takes off his jacket and shields you from rain, if anyone teases you he’ll get really defensive, he spoon feeds you at times, always pays for your lunch and dinner

Even goes as far as to take you on shopping sprees with no limit - even if you say no he’ll just keep track of everything you look at and buy it for you

Gets you flowers every week and always excuses it as “this is what best friends always do”

You two are basically dating… just without an official title

He’s TERRIFIEDDDD to ask, he’s literally had break downs over his fear of you rejecting him

Please just confess to him yourself, I’m not sure when he’ll get the balls and confidence to do it

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

He’s the most sane out of all of them all 😭

Literally the one line from Taylor Swift, “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” AHAAAAHHHHH

He gets a crush on you after you two are partnered for a long term project

Loves how smart and dedicated you are, it inspires him to be the same way

Sometimes he purposely acts dumb just so that you’ll help him

Always pays attention to the small details and everything you do

Spoils you ROTTEN omg

Will take you out to go shopping with him and he whips out his black card and casually drops 25k just on clothes and makeup for you

He loves the feeling of spoiling you, makes him feel like your future husband

Praises you for everything, even the bare minimum

“Woah! I like your outfit!” And you’re literally wearing the required school uniform

He wants to date you and call you his own, but he knows he’s a fuck boy deep down

Every time he’s dated a girl, he’s ended up breaking up with them because he can’t commit or just straight up cheating on them

He’s very confident that he could change and be better, but he wants to be perfect before he dares you

Because he sees you as perfect :”) and you only deserve the best

You help motivate him to become better, even though you didn’t know you did

Starts going to the gym, works harder in school, tries to be more nice to everyone

Eventually, he’ll get the guts to ask you out for the Yule ball but he’ll keep saying you’re going as “friends”

But one day you’ll overhear him and his group talking about how fat of a crush he has on you

They all tease him and call him a simp, loverboy, everything

But when he sees that you’ve been listening the entire time, he’s so reddddd

Tries to hide his face and runs away, he avoids you for a little bit

He’s so so so scared of not being good enough or even ruining his relationship with you

He’d genuinely be okay with just being your best friend for all his life whilst loving you, even though it would hurt him so badly

Please just accept this boy 🙏 tell this man he’s enough and that you love him

read more here! :D

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART THREE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Daddy issues.

Notes: Fun fact... The reason I titled this as two sides of the same coin as I was originally planning on making the reader being Azrael's wife and would be [y/n] Eveningstar as Azrael's last name would be Eveningstar 🧍but decided not to lmao.

PART TWO | PART FOUR | NAVIGATION

Charlie stood nervously at the podium, angels above her already judging her. Her eyes noticed the door to the courtroom opens, a familiar angel she met awhile ago, an angel that looked like her father. Xavier was it? If she remembered correctly. She watched as the boy flew up and took his position on the other side of Sera, Emily on the other side of the woman, the older woman in between the two young seraphims.

Charlie could feel the [e/c] orbs staring at her as the boy looked down on her (literally as he was sitting above her).

The meeting began.

Charlie was really hoping to win these angels over, hopefully her brother could help.

But she was slowly getting more and more nervous as the boy looked like he was getting bored from this meeting, the meeting clearly didn't meet his expectations.

Xavier just looked down, eyes half-lidded as he looked at the girl with boredom. All he could see is a plan without enough foundation to work, baseless claims that the hotel will work.

What annoys him is that this is the very same ambition his father proposed years ago. He wasn't there during the meeting but his mother told him about it.

The idea is ridiculous. Sinners were given a chance to live an honest and good life but decided to mess it up and now they're looking for a way to redeem themselves?

Xavier was close to falling asleep in the middle of it, suddenly something caught his interest. Emily, Charlotte, and Sera were arguing but Lute and Adam suddenly butted into the conversation and managed to slip up and revealed a secret.

“A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month... gotta say I can't wait to... Come down and exterminate you.” Adam says mockingly along with Lute.

Xavier's eyes widened, jaw dropping. Looking around to see if he heard it right and base on the others reaction, he heard it right.

The rest of the meeting went by a blur, another secret was revealed and Vaggie, Charlotte's lover was a former exorcist and is a fallen angel.

Frankly, he doesn't care about that. Xavier can only cover his mouth in shock, still in disbelief that these killings are happening without the others knowing.

Heaven is a lie.

Charlie looked at her supposed brother, a slight surprised look on his face. Clearly in disbelief. She couldn't tell if he's mad or not.

Oh, he's mad alright. Mad that a lie this big has been hidden away.

Beyond furious, Xavier glared at Sera. Charlotte and her lover were teleported back to hell after a snap of Adam's fingers.

Killing of souls, damned or not they have no reason for doing this.

Xavier decided to attend the court meeting, curious what fantastic or foolish ideas his half sister had to show them. He didn't expect that this meeting ended up revealing a very heavy secret.

Currently he is comforting Emily as the girl glares at Sera, “Please, if you start to question... You could end up like Lucifer... Fallen.” Sera says, her voice trembling slightly.

Xavier's glare hardened when the older woman mentioned a certain man he hated, Xavier just glared at Sera as the woman gave Emily a kiss on her forehead, he doesn't like how the high Seraphim is hiding a secret this big.

“Xavier.” Sera calls out to him sternly, the boy just gave the woman a raised eyebrow as his face returns to being emotionless. Sera felt chills running down her spine, Lucifer's face is unfortunately plastered on this boy's face, the fallen angel was his father after all.

“I hope you don't tell anyone about this. Especially your mother.” She pleaded and Xavier scoffs, a slight mischievous smile on his face, “Or what? Gonna cast me out to like what you did with my birth father?” he asked sarcastically, Sera's eye twitched.

“Of course, not. That isn't an enough reason to cast you out. Just... Please don't tell her.” the woman explained and Xavier scoffs.

“I love my mother and I can't bear to lie to her face, she already had enough of that. Just expect that this will reach the seven's soon.” He explained before eventually flying down and leaving the courtroom, not giving the woman a chance to speak.

Sera wanted to reach out and stop the boy but he was already gone, lowering her hand slowly. Sighing. He really is Lucifer's son, stubborn.

After all, the apple doesn't really fall far from the tree.

They're just lucky that [y/n] was able to raise the boy properly and was able to inherit most of his mom's personality. The looks however, are unfortunately from his dad.

Sera sighs again. Mentally preparing about the possibilities of what will happen if the seven virtues' know about this.

Charlie's mind was a mess after that meeting, Vaggie gave her some time and space to process everything of what happened.

She can't believe the love of her life is a fallen angel and worse, an ex exorcist! She hid something this big from her! And on top of that, she has a half older brother in heaven?!

Charlie groans, going underneath the covers as she lies on the bed.

She knows the older boy didn't lie as he literally had her father's face except for the eyes and height but everything else was an exact replica. Charlie can't help but be jealous, she could tell how much better the boy was compared to her, the boy carried an air of authority around him.

She feels guilty, she's not stupid. Her dad had that boy while he was in heaven and obviously with someone else, another angel.

Charlie wonders what kind of life her half brother is living up there?

What she does know is that the boy harbors some kind of hatred for her and her family. The boy didn't fully express it but Charlie could feel it, the bubbling rage beneath his exterior when he saw her.

She'll have to ask her dad about this later, once she's mentally okay.

Xavier returned back home, the mansion empty as his mother is away, and they don't have any servants as they prefer a quiet life.

Walking to the living room, his eyes gazed at the large portrait that was displayed on the wall of the living room—a portrait of him and his mom. Him standing at her side while she sat on a regal chair, both of them matching clothes—their heaven uniforms.

His eyes softened, he felt exhausted. Training with his uncle, meeting his half sister, and a secret Sera hid was revealed.

He can't wait for her to come back home, he needed to tell her all about this.

TAGLIST:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyrealityy @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen