#he walked in on his best friend and wife having sex i think he deserves to be posted | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slttygeto · 1 year ago

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SAVE MY LOVE FOR YOU | MANJIRO SANO.

જ⁀➴ synposis: neither you nor mikey seem to have pulled out cupid's arrow despite being separated in this timeline. lucky for you two, you have the perfect group of friends for you to reunite in every life.

જ⁀➴ content warning: manga spoilers! (the ending), racer! mikey, best friend! kazutora, fem! reader, tooth rotting fluff, mikey is very confident and famous, making out on the first date, se.x in the changing room, se.x on the couch, protective sex (wrap it before you tap it), overstimulation, cunnilingus, mikey makes you cum three times, he's a sweetheart.

જ⁀➴ word count: 10k

જ⁀➴ note: thank you to @mztoman for commissioning me again (so loyal!) i had so much fun writing this, even though it took me a while. and thank YOU guys for 8k followers! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it hehe.

ʚ⁺˖↪ comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

One of Takemichi’s biggest achievements in life is giving his friends the life he promised them when he first discovered what being a time leaper was. It wasn’t easy, he fought like hell but it was worth it at the end. All of his friends are alive, his girlfriend is soon going to become his wife and was preparing for their wedding—it couldn’t get more perfect than this. The man sat next to this big window of a very quiet and fancy place, so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice that his friend was walking back towards their table.

Manjiro watched as the black haired male fidgeted nervously in his seat. It was his idea to take him out, help him loosen up a little since Takemichi has been so caught up in wedding stress. He deserved a day like this. Especially with how far he’s come and the sacrifices he made for them to be here in the first place.

“If you fidget again, you might break the chair,” Manjiro teases him as he takes a seat across from him. He watches as the male flinches before resting his forehead on the table. Takemichi heaves out a long sigh.

“This is way too fancy, Mikey…”

“Well, what did you think? That I’d be allowed to go a coffee shop down the street where anyone can recognize me?” Manjiro flashes his friend a grin, a little proud that his career mad him get this far. And Takemichi sighs in defeat, accepting the fact that their little hangouts were going to be like this from now on.

“Plus, you need this more than I do. Wedding preparations are wearing you out. Maybe attending Emma’s wedding first will help putting you in a good mood before the big day comes up.” It was true, but there was something else to be discussed and Takemichi wasn’t sure of how to bring it up.

Was this even the right moment for it? He didn’t even know if it was appropriate to discuss this so casually. But he needed to get it off his chest. It was one of the first things he noticed when the last time leap happened—how it felt off. He wasn’t even sure at first, he thought he was just imagining things, that the time leaps took a toll on him. But one look at Chifuyu confirmed that he wasn’t tripping. Someone was missing in the picture.

“Hey, do you remember ever having a girlfriend in the past?” Takemichi tries to be casual about this, tries not to make it seem like it was a life or death situation but his facial expression fails him. It was so serious that it makes Mikey pause eating his food.

“Huh?”

“A girlfriend, or perhaps a girl? Do you remember being involved with a girl romantically?” At first, Takemichi was hesitating on telling his friend about this. After all, there’s no nice way to ask this question without making it seem like you are calling your friend a total loser. But he remember his conversation with Chifuyu, and he knows that if there is anyone to trust when it comes to information about the past, it’s either him or Naoto.

“I remember her, we didn’t talk that much but she was definitely there,” Chifuyu says, still holding the cold beer in his hand. Takemichi had invited him to his apartment while Hinata was out shopping, because he couldn’t just discuss this kind of stuff over the phone.

“Through it all, right?”

“Mhm, you remember her too Michi, you’re just hesitant.” Chifuyu was right. Takemichi knew what he saw in all of the timelines, he is sure that there was someone and Mikey always looked so protective of you, never let anyone near you. He’s never seen his friend like that, and so for him to be separated from her in this final timeline just didn’t make sense. He needed to do something about it.

“Michi, are you trying to tell me something?” It seemed like Mikey refused to take the situation seriously, and no one could blame him. What was supposed to be a fun hang out with his best friend was turning into a serious conversation and faster than he had anticipated.

“You were in love, Mikey.” This sentence makes his face fall. Takemichi sighs before leaning back in his seat, stirring the drink placed in front of him.

“Each time I went back in time and tried to fix things, it led me to a different timeline—a different outcome. In all of them, you were involved with this girl—you were different,” Takemichi pauses as he looks up at his friend. “No matter how bad things turned out to be, she was always there and seemed to be the only person to pull you out of this dark cloud. Last time, way before that big fight happened—“ He almost cringes when he remembers how bad it was. “You two weren’t together anymore. And I’m not sure why or how, but that seemed to worsen things for you. And if I’m not mistaken, she did end up dying at one point.”

Manjiro was trying his best to process what was being said to him. He was quiet, attentive and did not know what to say. He wasn’t opposed to the idea that younger him had found love, he was more upset that he must’ve fucked up some way for this mysterious girl to leave him and not want to be involved with him anymore. But he had no memory of her. No name, no address—how old was she? Were they both the same age? Was she older? What was she like? She must’ve been super patient with him because his teenage self was a menace, whiny and way too needy.

“Do you remember what she was like?” Mikey breaks the silence, his eyes going from his drink to his friend’s face who hums, trying his best to remember some of the features.

“I’m not sure, all I remember is that she was very loyal to you. She had a bonten tattoo on the back of her neck to match yours.” Takemichi remembers vividly the Bonten timeline, where he had tried to visit Mikey at that one abandoned building. He remembers watching her as she stood near the leader with careful eyes, a warm touch that contrasted her partner’s cold demeanor. She seemed to give Mikey what he lacked—warmth, love and a home.

“Where was she during the last fight?”

“I have no idea, but she didn’t want to be around you,” Takemichi cringes at the confession.

It’s true, she and Manjiro were like strangers in this timeline, but it wasn’t guaranteed that they wouldn’t meet again. After all, this mysterious girl was also friends with the rest of Toman. Takemichi wasn’t sure who exactly was her closest friend in the gang, and it made the chances of meeting her very slim.

“How do you know so much, though?” Mikey starts, taking a bite from his pastry. “You can remember that I was a piece of shit to her, but not her face?” It was a natural question, and no offense was taken by Takemichi who shrugged his shoulders.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I got some answers from Chifuyu and Naoto. We know this girl, but we tried to look at every picture with Toman and she was just never there. Almost like a ghost.”

“And you’re sure she isn’t dead in this present time?” This was Takemichi’s least favorite theory. Something must’ve happened in the past, she was nowhere to be found and the guy didn’t have time to ask everyone if they remember a certain girl being involved with the gang. All he could hope for was that she was alive and that nothing bad happened to her. Unlike that one timeline where she does end up getting killed, Takemichi hoped that she somehow survived and made it in the present time.

“I hope that she isn’t.” Takemichi confesses, almost gloomily. “But one thing is for sure—if she was close to somebody in Toman, there’s a chance she might attend either mine or your sister’s wedding. Let’s not lose hope.”

You are invited to the wedding of an old friend. You remember Emma as being the light of any room she walks into, and seeing her get married to the one person she’s always had a crush on makes you grin from ear to ear as you hold the wedding invitation in your hands. You are not particularly close to the couple, but you remember bumping into them a couple of times and every time you would pray that nothing bad happens and separates them because their happiness is truly contagious.

The wedding takes place in about two days, and you learn that you are not the only one invited when you hear your doorbell ring.

“You’re invited to Emma and Draken’s wedding, right?” Kazutora stands at your door and you snort at how excited he is. You’ve been friends with him for almost a decade now, you’ve seen each other at your lowest and you couldn’t deny that your friendship with the man was one of a kind. He pestered you like you were a little sister, and no matter how annoying he was to you, he happened to be one of the few people who were truly there for you when you needed them.

“Mhm, she even called me and told me she really wants to see me.” You smile when you remember the phone call. She was sweet enough to ask for your number when you bumped into her three months ago, and now that you look back at it—it was definitely to invite you to her wedding. You let Kazutora walk inside your place and the man makes himself comfortable on your couch.

“Good. You do need to get out of the house, it’s starting to become annoying,” he says with a light tone, and he sees you roll your eyes before you take a seat next to him.

“Sure, I do need to socialize a little.”

“Not a little, a lot.”

“Shut up, I get it.” You smack Kazutora’s arm and he laughs before grabbing the remote control. He chooses a random show on Netflix before grabbing his phone to order takeout. You can’t even argue with him or tell him you had some left-over food from yesterday because he wouldn’t listen to you anyway.

Kazutora was right. You rarely ever went out unless you were obligated or the man dragged you to an event. It felt as though you dreaded the thought of going out and having to meet people. But attending Emma’s wedding didn’t sound like a bad idea. As long as the people there were as sweet as her.

Which made you realize another thing.

“It’s crazy how we both knew Emma, but we didn’t become friends through her.” You say outloud and your friend hums. You two became friends because you happened to be hanging out near a cat café. You both happened to be rescuing the same kitten, and decided that it was the start of your very long friendship.

“True, which also means that you’ve never met one of my closest friends and Emma’s brother.” You tilt your head in confusion.

“Who?”

“Mikey.” You’ve never heard of that name in your life. Then again, you’ve never been to Emma’s house or were that close to her in the first place. All you knew was that she had a massive crush on this Draken dude who you saw recently and that was that. Anything about her family was simply none of your business.

“Yeah, I don’t know him.” You simply shrug.

“He’s a pretty famous racer actually,” oh? That was a first. “But he likes to keep his personal life mostly private. Last time, he came to my place wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants—I thought I was getting robbed.”

You snort at the thought of your friend being absolutely terrified from his own close friend. But this made you a little curious about this Mikey. If he was as famous as Kazutora claims, why have you never seen him on TV before?

“You’re such a scaredy cat. “ You tease your friend, nudging him with your elbow.

“Yeah, yeah. Says the same person who cried when she found me on her couch after opening the door for me at night.”

“I forgot!”

“Say that to the person who will murder you in your sleep.”

Emma’s wedding was as intimate as it could be. You weren’t complaining, you hated big weddings where people didn’t even know each other. And right off the bat, you could tell that the people invited to the couple’s wedding were loved ones and have seen them grow up together.

You don’t feel out of place, but you are still a little closed off as Kazutora marches towards his group of friends. You refused to go with him mainly because it would be so awkward and you wanted to give your friend some space to hang out with his own group of friends. And so you stand next to the drinks, pour yourself some water and hold onto your cup while looking around the place.

It was small, but not too small. You take notice of the flowers hanging by the ceiling and the cake sitting in the corner. There’s soft music playing in the background and despite the number of people present, it is not loud enough to annoy you. Perhaps if you were to get married one day, you wanted a ceremony just like this.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when you feel Kazutora’s hand around your wrist and you send him a look that he knows a little too well.

Don’t you dare-

“Come! They wanna meet you.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, and you hear his friends laugh at the contrast in your expressions. While Kazutora is so excited to introduce you to his friends, you look as though you don’t even want to be here.

“There she is! Give her some time and she will warm up to you guys,” you give a tight lipped smile and you can feel your cheeks warming up at the attention. You aren’t exactly awkward with people, but being introduced like this wasn’t a situation you would ever put yourself into.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Mitsuya.” A man with lavender hair extends his hand out and the smile on his face helps you relax a little. You shake hands with him and introduce yourself back, and suddenly everyone was telling you who they were.

Beside Baji (whom you’ve already seen in pictures before), everyone else is a new face. There was a set of twins, Souya and Nahoya. Pah-chin and Peh-yan, and then there was Hakkai and Chifuyu. They were all nice and welcoming, didn’t make you feel awkward at all. But you notice how Chifuyu’s stare lingers on you for a bit longer than the rest, and you don’t shy away from asking him if there was something he needed.

“Is there anything you need or?”

“Oh no,” Chifuyu starts and shakes his head. His cheeks are flushed that you caught him staring at you so intensely, but he continues nonetheless. “You just look familiar, that’s all.”

Familiar? It wasn’t exactly impossible, but you were still sure that you’ve never met Chifuyu before.

“Maybe we met outside or something, or maybe Kazutora showed you a pic?” You ask the male, and he quickly darts his eyes towards Kazutora.

“Actually, yeah. I think that’s where I saw you.” He lets go of the conversation pretty quickly after this, leaving you standing confused next to your friend. You don’t really question it, perhaps he did believe you and it was all in his head. But it was still a weird interaction altogether.

You are quickly introduced to a new person, and your interaction with him isn’t any less weird than the previous one. Takemichi stares at you with wide eyes and parted lips, and you see Chifuyu pinch his side which makes you furrow your eyebrows. What the fuck was going on here?

“Are you okay—“

“You just look very familiar.” Again? You almost roll your eyes in annoyance. If they were playing games with you, this surely wasn’t a fun one. But you decide to give a proper answer to this observation and shake your head.

“It’s probably all in your head, I’m sorry. I have never seen you in my life.”

Despite how warm and gentle you look, you are strong minded and don’t shy away from situations like these. Takemichi finds himself smiling at the thought.

I can see why her and Mikey are perfect for each other.

Takemichi, just like Chifuyu, lets go of the conversation very easily and you find yourself even more annoyed than before. If one more person tells you that you look familiar, you might just tell them to fuck off. But you’re distracted by Kazutora dragging you to take a seat, indicating that the ceremony was about to start.

You watch as the best men step out and stand next to the groom who looks as though he is about to burst into tears at any moment. It is a sweet thing to witness in real time, the same man you remember meeting three months ago holding a bag of groceries while Emma was holding nothing but her purse. He was truly head over heels, and to be able to witness him devote himself and promise to love and cherish her, to be there for her and hold her when things get tough felt like witnessing a love story straight from the books.

The after-party starts shortly after, and you take notice of how the quiet and intimate vibes remain present throughout the whole night. You are sat at a table all alone, Kazutora had only left your side a few moments prior to grab food for you both and so you decide to just scroll on your phone for a bit. But you are quickly robbed of your alone time when your friend comes back and it seems as though he’s dragging someone with him.

“(Name), this is Mikey. Mikey, this is (name). He’s the friend that I told you about yesterday.” Mikey is anything but how you imagined him to be. Cocky, arrogant, maybe a little self-centered since that’s how everyone who rose to fame behaved even around their friends. But he is… closed off. He can hold eye contact, but you take notice of the small blush painting the apples of his cheeks at having to be introduced like this.

You two seemed to have that in common.

You give a small smile in response and extend your hand, Mikey sees it and mirrors your actions. You don’t think much of it, it’s a hand shake after all—but the moment the palm of your head meets his, you feel electricity shock through your body and you both pull away with a slight hiss.

“Shit-“

“Ouch.”

You’re both holding your hands back, but then you look at him and he feels different. For some odd reason, this young man you had just been introduced to looks at you as though he’s been looking for you for a long time. Your heart skips a beat. His eyes are intense, and he doesn’t seem to pull his eyes away from you until you dart them back towards Kazutora with red cheeks.

Your friend watches the scene unfold before him with raised eyebrows and a small smile. He had hopes that two of his closest friends would get along, and it seemed to be going just fine.

“Wow, am I interrupting something?” The playful tone to his voice seems to make the heat travel all over your body, and both you and Mikey smack him at his comment.

“Don’t be such a dickhead.” You look adorable when you try to be threatening, Mikey thinks. But he also thinks that it must be you.

The girl Takemichi told him about a few days earlier, it has to be you. He doesn’t know how or why, but the hand shake made him feel different about you. It was cheesy to be thinking this way, Mikey would’ve probably teased anyone else if they had told him this. But you were staring at him with pretty eyes and pink cheeks, even your stare was a shy one up until you looked at Kazutora.

You bicker with Kazutora for a few more moments until Mikey sees him lift up his hands in defeat, a triumphant smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at this.

“Fine, I’ll leave you two alone if that’s what you really want.” This little-

“That’s not what I said!” Your face is as red as a tomato, watching Kazutora walk away to chit-chat with some of his friends. Mikey finds himself snickering a little at this.

“Laughing at my misery?” You tell the man with a small grumble and he shrugs his shoulders before pulling out a chair.

“It was entertaining—can I?” You nod in response and Mikey takes a seat next to you. Your body immediately relaxes around him, and given that you were the only two people sitting at this table, you don’t find yourself feeling awkward as you strike a conversation with the man.

“So, you like bikes?” The question is genuine, but the way you phrase it has Mikey throwing his head back with a small laugh.

“I do, how were you able to tell?” He props his elbow on the table before resting his chin on his hand. He is grinning, and the way he’s staring at you makes your stomach flutter.

“A little birdie told me you’re a pretty famous racer,” You grin in return and mirror his actions, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. Mikey takes notice of what you are trying to do and lets out another laugh.

“I am, and yes I do love bikes.”

“I know, Mikey.” You chuckle at his sincerity and you see him shrug his shoulders.

“Hey, I’m an honest man. I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t lying.”

“Honestly, you look like a terrible liar.” You giggle a little when he lets out a gasp, feigning being offended.

“I am an amazing liar!”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah! For example, me being an amazing liar is a lie in itself,” Mikey finds himself grinning from ear to ear when his little joke makes you laugh really hard. He truly hopes that you were her, otherwise he would be pretty bummed.

“Alright comedian, I’m getting a little hungry. Wanna grab some food?” Manjiro doesn’t say no, and so you stand up and head towards the display of various types of snacks and food to fill your plate.

The night seemed to be going pretty well.

You spend the rest of the night talking to Mikey as though you’ve known each other for years. He lets you talk with Emma and Draken to congratulate them, and you don’t notice the smile that’s on her face when she sees you walk away with her brother. In fact, you fail to notice the various pairs of eyes lingering on you both as you sit down at the very corner, seemingly thinking that you are away from prying eyes, but you were obviously wrong. You and Manjiro looked like you were on a date.

The after-party does eventually come to an end. Kazutora tells you to get ready and you put on the coat you brought with you in case it got cold at night (which it did). Mikey walks you out of the venue, but before you can follow Kazutora to his car, he stops you with a hand around your wrist.

“Hey wait,”

“Yeah?” A part of you was hoping that the conversation was going that way, you had a lot of fun with Mikey during the few hours you hung out with him and you were hoping that he would do something about it.

“I had a lot of fun, and it wasn’t even my own wedding,” he starts with a chuckle. “And I was wondering if we could hang out again.” Oh, he was bold. You liked that.

You smile at this, and you remove your wrist from his grasp before wrapping it around his hand, grabbing it firmly.

“I would love to, Mikey.” You exchange phone numbers and you walk towards Kazutora’s car. You wave at Mikey, you see him mouth ‘I’ll text you later’ and it makes you blush. You get inside the car, and Kazutora immediately starts the car.

He notices how quiet you are, but you don’t look upset. You’re busy staring at your phone, almost like you were waiting for a text and then your phone pings. Your eyes light up when you see the notification, and you quickly type something on your phone.

Mikey<3

--Kazutora’s a pretty reckless driver. Think you gonna get there safely?

You stifle a giggle before sending a reply.

--He’s a pretty good driver actually, have some faith in him.

Kazutora doesn’t take a look at your phone, but from the way you are beaming at your phone, he knows who you were talking to.

“You two are getting along pretty well,” you don’t raise your head to look at him, only nod in response.

“Mhm, he’s really cute,” you say quietly and your friend smiles to himself. He hasn’t seen you this excited about someone in quite some time, and for it to be his close friend out of everyone warms up his heart.

You couldn’t wait to see Mikey again.

Mikey has a very busy schedule, you learn that from the past three weeks of texting him. You tried to make plans four times, and they were all dismissed by his team because he had something to do. You weren’t even upset about it, you had been having video and phone calls with him the entire time, but he still apologizes during every call and promises to make it up to you somehow.

Which brings you to where you are right now—standing near your apartment building waiting for him to pick you up. You two had agreed to go back to his place to hang out, since his race was coming up soon, the paparazzi were on his ass and he didn’t want that to ruin his fun time with you.

You see a black, fancy car pull up next to you and your eyes are wide as you stare at it. Mikey rolls down the window and flashes you a toothy grin, before yelling out.

“You’re gonna keep standing there?” You are quick to get inside the car, and you take notice of how clean it is.

“I didn’t think you were gonna pick me up in such a fancy car,” you admit, and Manjiro chuckles at your honesty.

“Were you expecting a bike?”

“Yeah.” You smile when you see him laugh a little harder. “What?”

“You’re cute, that’s all,” you blush at his remark and cough a little, suddenly finding the ceiling of his car very interesting.

“Getting shy?”

“Focus on driving,” you say playfully and he gets stubborn, refusing to listen to you.

“Ooh, did my talk of Kazutora being a reckless driver get to your head?” He rests his head on the steering wheel, and you almost panic when you see that he’s not paying attention.

“Mikey—really, focus!”

You arrive to his place in less than twenty minutes, and you hope your face does not betray you and show him how absolutely mesmerized you are by the size of the building. You have to hurt your neck in order to see the top, and he tells you that he lives on the 20th floor, since he loves watching the city from above. You walk inside, get in the elevator and Manjiro notices the way you’re holding your purse tightly.

His hand reaches out towards you and wraps around your wrist, you look at him in surprise but immediately relax when you see the smile on his face.

“Relax, yeah?” His voice is barely above a whisper. Butterflies dance in your stomach at the way he’s addressing you—so full of love and care. You look away from him when you feel your face getting hot.

Luckily, Manjiro doesn’t notice as the elevator finally comes to a halt, indicating that you finally arrived at the 20th floor. The doors open and you are greeted with a long, illuminated hallway with grey carpets on the floor and big windows on the side. Mikey is the first one to step out and you follow suit, watching as he starts to look for his keys in his pockets.

You arrive at a door with big, bold numbers on it and you wait behind Mikey as he unlocks it before stepping inside.

“Come in, make yourself comfortable.”

Mikey’s place is as fancy as the building, but there’s a hint of domesticity to it and it warms up your heart. There are framed pictures everywhere, trophies sitting above the bookshelf and plants in each corner of the humongous living room. The kitchen is attached to the living space, and you’re surprised when you see that the oven was turned on.

“Were you cooking?”

“Yeah, I’m actually lucky cause if we had been late, our dinner could’ve been burned.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, while you stare at him mortified. He could’ve started a fire and he’s laughing about it?

“You know that’s super dangerous, Mikey.”

“I was just excited to come pick you up,” he pouts at you, and you already have this show memorized. Every time he would do something reckless and he tells you over a video call, he would pout when you scold him in hopes of getting out of it.

“Please,” you roll your eyes, bending down to take off your shoes before putting on the slippers he had laid out for you. While dinner was still cooking, Mikey decides to give you a little tour of his apartment.

You learn that there is he makes good use of the space he has, and he tells you it’s all thanks to his sister Emma for giving him ideas. He has an office where he takes calls, a bedroom that looks rather neat compared to when you saw it over the video call a few days ago and a very pretty bathroom that is black themed. You think it’s the prettiest part of his house.

“Out of everything, you pick the bathroom?” He is amused, watching as you grab the bottles of shampoo and conditioner with a loud gasp, the fascination in your eyes warms up his chest. He truly feels like pulling you in his arms.

“Those are so cool! Have you ever broken one of these?” Manjiro raises an eyebrow at this.

“Why?”

“I just wanna know if you’re clumsy,” you give him an innocent grin, and he pouts his lips at your comment.

“I am not clumsy.”

“Hm, then I guess Kazutora lied to me.” This makes his ears perk up.

“Kazutora told you about me?” You chuckle at his eagerness but nod anyway.

“He told me you were reckless and a bit childish,” you tilt your head to the side. “Stubborn, indecisive, impulsive, idiotic-“

“Did he say anything that’s actually good,” you can sense the annoyance in his voice and chuckle before reaching out to hold one of his hands.

“He told me you were loyal, very kind and loving. You care a lot about your family and friends, and you never let fame get to your head,” your voice is soft as you tell him all the things Kazutora told you, and the longer you hold his hand, the louder your heartbeat is in your ears.

It feels strange, almost familiar to be this close with him even through just hand holding. And when you look up from where you were holding his hand, your breath hitches at the way he is staring at you. Intense, passionate—you can’t exactly decide how Mikey’s eyes feel, but you do know that they make you nervous. You bite your bottom lips out of nervousness, but you don’t let go of his hand. Instead, your thumb caresses the back of his hand and traces soft circles there.

“And what do you think?” Mikey finally breaks the silence, eyes darting all over your face before settling on your lips.

“I think,” you tighten your hold around his hand, before pulling him towards you in one sudden movement. “I think you should kiss me.”

Manjiro didn’t need to be told twice. His hands gripped your hips as he pinned you against his sink, lips pressed against yours in what started out as a soft, innocent kiss. But the longer your lips moved against one another, the harder it was to keep it tame. You only pull away when you’re out of breath and panting, hands gripping the fabric of shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you. He rests his forehead against yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lips before pulling you into another kiss. You gasp when you feel his lips kiss down, nipping at your jaw.

“Mikey—the food.” You pant out.

“Oh shit-“ There goes your dinner.

Whatever Mikey cooked that night wasn’t going to be served. You laugh a little at how pouty and sad he is at the incident, but you reassure him that you appreciate his effort until the very end, and even if it was ruined.

You end up ordering food for the night, and you find out that Mikey gets really excited when the food has little decorations on top. He orders a hamburger and you decide to go for a pizza, and the sheer amount of happiness on his face when he finds a little flag on top of the bun makes you coo at him.

There is a show playing while you eat, but neither of you focus on what was happening as you devour your food and talk about everything and nothing. You learn many things about Mikey, and so does he. And it seems as though the kiss you shared back in the bathroom is long forgotten, almost as though it never happened. But you do notice that Mikey is holding back on the stuff he is telling you.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” You’re not necessarily being confrontational, but you see him shift a little. So you noticed.

He doesn’t say anything as he removes the fry from his mouth and grabs some water, and your heart sinks a little. When did it get so serious?

“Mikey?”

“Can I be honest about something?” Oh no. Whenever a conversation started like this, you knew it wasn’t going to end well.

“Sure.” He was gonna tell you that he didn’t enjoy the kiss—or worse, did your breath smell? You already felt repulsed by yourself and he hadn’t even said a single thing. You were getting ready for rejection, for the night to end terribly and for him to send you back home and never talk to you again. You knew it was too good to be true.

“This might sound a little crazy, but we were lovers in the past.” Huh? You didn’t know what to say—this sounded ridiculous, but maybe he meant when you were kids? On the playground?

“You mean as kids or?”

“No, I mean in a different timeline, we are—well, were lovers.” The use of the past tense when referring to his relationship with you has a bitter aftertaste to it. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing right now, you might not even be her. But he remembers his conversation with Takemichi after Emma’s wedding, how his friend confirmed to him that yes, it was you.

“Mikey, go for it.” Takemichi was grinning from ear to ear. It seemed as though you were actually alive and he did manage to save everyone this time. Even you.

“Are you sure-“

“Yes,” Chifuyu interrupts with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. “I’m certain that it’s her.”

This was the confirmation Mikey needed, but he was still scared. What if you reject him in this timeline? What if you both don’t fall in love and things don’t work out? This probably scared him more than having to tell you about the whole time leap thing.

“What do you mean?” You don’t tell him that he sounds ridiculous, nor do you laugh at the fact that he just told you that you were both lovers at one point.

“Takemichi, and my brother—but it doesn’t matter,” Mikey shakes his head. “Takemichi was able to go back in time at one point in his life. He’s what people might call a time leaper. He went through hell and beyond to be able to save his girlfriend from dying, but then eventually he got involved with me and that’s how we became friends.” You see him pause to smile to himself, and you think to yourself that there is no way someone can make up a story this detailed without stuttering or missing a beat.

“Every time he tried to fix something in the past, it would lead to a horrible outcome in the future. And he remembers that—well, we were together,” he frowns before continuing. “No matter the horrible outcome, we were never separated until well, now.”

What Mikey is saying right now should make you look at him like he’s crazy, what he’s implying and the events he’s describing sound straight out of a book. And yet you still believe every word he says. You aren’t sure what part of his speech convinced you that this was real, you just believe him.

“It makes sense. The handshake made me feel some kind of way, I thought I was crazy for looking too deeply into it—but then I felt you and I don’t know, I think even hanging out as friends would do us great, yeah?” You were going on such a ramble, that you fail to notice that Mikey is a little taken aback by your understanding of the whole situation. He’s relieved that you don’t think he is crazy, but when he feels the blush crawl up his neck, he looks away from you with a loud huff.

“What is wrong with you?” You blink at him.

“Hm?”

“You’re being awfully understanding, I wasn’t expecting it.” You find yourself cooing at him, and your hand reaches towards his face to pinch his cheek playfully.

“Oh Mikey, are you shy?” You regret your words as soon as they come out. You feel his hand grab your wrist before pulling you on top of him on the couch, making you straddle him. He smirks at your wide eyed look and his hands grip your hips just like how he did in the bathroom.

“Cat got your tongue?” Yes, it totally did. This side of Mikey was so unexpected but you weren’t complaining. But you did feel as though he was reminding you that no matter how flustered he could get, he always had more effect on you than you could ever imagine.

You get over the situation on the couch rather quickly, and an hour later you decide that it’s finally time to head back home. Mikey is whiny about it, but he decides to drive you back to your place and completely forgets why he was upset in the first place. His behavior resembled one of a very needy puppy.

He parks next to your apartment building, and he immediately starts sighing out dramatically.

“Mikey-“

“I cannot believe I have just been reunited with my past lover, and yet she still asks to go back to her place and urgently!” He yells out the last part, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. “I am heartbroken.”

“I promise to text you, yeah?” You lean towards him and press a kiss to his cheek, to which he grins at.

“And you have to go on a date with me again very soon.”

“Okay, deal.” You quickly agree, and the smile beaming on his face makes you think that if he was always going to be this happy, then you would go on plenty of dates with him.

“Goodnight Mikey,”

“Manjiro.” Your hand rests at the door, and you turn around to face him.

“Yeah?”

“Call me Manjiro, I like it better.”

You smile at this and nod his way. “Goodnight Manjiro.” It sounds so sweet when it comes out of your mouth, and when you lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek, he grabs your face and pulls you into a deep kiss.

He is such a passionate kisser, a little aggressive since he keeps nipping and biting at your bottom lip and gripping the back of your head—but you don’t mind. You are dizzy when he pulls away, and he finally unlocks the door for you with a grin on his face.

“Goodnight, (Name).”

Over the next month and a half, not once do you question your relationship with Mikey. It’s casual, you tell yourself. It has to be. Sure, you have shared a few passionate, and very intimate kisses but it was all casual and friendly. At least that’s what you tell yourself.

Mikey refuses to discuss whatever is going on between you two either, chooses to brush it to the side because as much as his brain was telling him this was going well, his heart was screaming at him not to get attached. Which was too late.

The conversations you both had, the kisses you shared—hell, you even understood the whole time leap thing and told him that when he first shook hands with you, he felt familiar. But what if Mikey fucks up again? What if he messes up like he did in the previous times, so badly to the point where even Takemichi couldn’t fix it? The thoughts in his head were getting louder and more suffocating by the minute, and he was afraid that he would do it again—push you away, or worse; lose you.

You notice that his text messages become shorter and less excited than when you both started talking, it confuses you at first—you brush off the idea of him losing interest in you because there was no way. You both got along so well, did he really get cold feet so suddenly?

It was even more frustrating to try to get him to talk about it—every time you would try to bring it up, he would shut down your attempt and give a lame excuse such as “oh, I’m just tired” or “I didn’t get enough sleep”. You were starting to get a little fed up.

You text Kazutora to come over, and you’re not even surprised when you hear a knock at your door not even twenty minutes later. He was always quick with these.

“What do you want this time, more money? My soul?” Kazutora says as he walks in, but the humorous mood he was trying to set immediately fades when he notices your distressed state.

“Wow, are you okay?” His eyebrows are pinched in concern and you shake your head.

“No, no—I think Mikey doesn’t like me.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” This wasn’t what Kazutora heard from Mikey himself, and he realizes almost immediately that things weren’t being communicated properly between you two.

“He’s been acting distant and cold—and I think I fucked up, maybe I shouldn’t have kissed him the first time we hung out-“

“You kissed him the first time you hung out?” Your friend was impressed, but he winces when you smack his shoulder. “Shit sorry—hey listen, I’m very sure he likes you.”

“How can you be so sure? I really don’t know what he’s thinking and it’s killing me.” You are frustrated, and it’s very understandable. But Kazutora has to explain to you how Mikey was as a person.

“It’s Mikey, he’s incredibly scared of his feelings.” He sits you down on your couch and you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “It’s always been like this. His feelings are intense, and he is scared that it might push people away which is why he’s had the same group of friends for years--so my theory is, he really likes you. But he is scared that you do not feel the same, or worse and impossible; don’t feel the same way.”

You aren’t surprised that your friend knows this much about Mikey, but you still find it endearing that he was willing to explain to you in detail how his friend dealt with his feelings. You find yourself nodding at his words before resting your head on the couch.

“How do I make him less scared though?”

“What do you mean?”

“I obviously like him back,” you stare at your friend. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. But how do I tell him? How do I let him know that I want him? I can’t have him question that, I need him to be convinced that I feel the same for him, that it doesn’t scare me.”

Kazutora smiles a little at your eagerness. You and Mikey were truly the perfect match. Confident, unwavering and strong with a pinch of gentleness and care for your loved ones. He pats your head affectionately.

“Don’t worry, I got the perfect plan.”

You should’ve known his plan would include some of Mikey’s closest friends. You are a blushing mess as you stand in the middle of Mitsuya’s office in an awkward position. The lavender head is staring you down so intensely, you can’t even hold eye contact with him.

“Yeah, lucky her I have one ready.” Have what? You look at Kazutora who only grins at you before shrugging his shoulders.

Mitsuya then comes out and is holding what appears to be a black outfit. He hands it to you and sits back down on his chair before nodding at you to open it. You do as you are told and unfold the piece of clothing in your hands—a dress? There was pretty writing in gold, it said TOMAN on the back and Mikey written in gold right above the heart area.

“Is this…?”

“Mhm, Mikey’s old uniform when we were back in Toman.” Mitsuya says before fixing his glasses. “I tried to experiment with it a couple of times, and this is the last thing I was able to make. It should fit you as an oversized shirt.”

You hold the piece of clothing in your hand and nod at him, before darting your eyes towards your friend.

“What do I do with this?”

“His race is tomorrow. You already have a VIP pass to the front row, right?” You nod in response. “Cool, wear that and stand there. I’m very sure he will be very excited.”

It sounded like a reckless plan—crazy, even. But you were down for it as long as Manjiro knew that you felt the same, and that you were willing to try again with him in this timeline. You were ready to be lovers, it’s what fate decided for you both. And although it doesn’t always work out, during the two months of having known Mikey, you’ve come to accept the fact that you were his and he was yours.

No matter the circumstances, you always found your way back in each other’s lives.

Mikey loved his job more than anything in the world. He loved the adrenaline that comes with it, the confidence boost that he gets from hearing people—fans, and mostly his friends and family cheer for him, was immeasurable. He was the center of attention, and such a competitive person that all eyes fell on him the moment he gets on his bike. Like a kid being handed candy, Mikey finds pure joy in holding trophies at the end of every race, and some might think he is cocky for saying this—but he knew that today’s victory was going to be his.

He is getting ready to get on his bike, a heavy helmet in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He knows his manager is saying something, but he can’t really get himself to care enough to listen, mind thinking of far more important things.

He wonders how you are doing, after all it’s been a while since he last saw you and it makes him internally cringe. Avoidance was one of his worst traits, coming second to pushing people away from him. He doesn’t know what he should do about the whole situation, he is far too deep in it to be able to get out without you getting mad at him or worse—choosing not to be with him. But Manjiro is ready for whatever is thrown his way, he will fight back and try to win you ever. Even if his own fears can easily get the best of him at the worst of times.

The race starts, and Manjiro doesn’t stare at the crowd cheering for him. He knows it’s the usual—His siblings, grandpa and all of his friends cheering the name “Mikey!” over and over again. It wasn’t until the race ends and Mikey wins the first place that he decides to take off his helmet and flash the crowd his usual, toothy grin. It’s contagious, and he notices how his friends keep pointing down for him to notice something in the crowd—or rather, someone.

There you were, standing so close to him yet so far away—how did he not notice you from the very beginning? You looked adorable, and you were wearing something that looked way too familiar. The closer he got to you, the sooner he was able to confirm that it was his old Toman uniform. And you were wearing it as an oversized shirt, with what he hoped were shorts underneath.

He doesn’t miss the way his siblings and friends were snickering to themselves at his speechless state, but he chooses that he will throw a tantrum over that later. He has more important things to focus on—such as asking you what you were doing here, how did you get that? Does it mean that you weren’t mad at him?

Mikey knew he should be careful with the paparazzi, after all they were the type to make a huge deal out of anything—but he has never had any dating rumor. In fact, he would always shut down the idea and say that dating wasn’t for him. But now that you were standing in the crowd, looking especially adorable in his old uniform, he couldn’t really decide whether to protect you from the nasty fans or to hold you in his arms and show the public that his heart belonged to one person only.

He decides to be careful for the sake of your safety—flashes you a confident smile that has your face changing into a bright red color before giving him a curt nod which he returns. You could hear Kazutora and Baji fake gagging in the back at the sight of you two communicating silently, but you didn’t care anymore. Not when Mikey’s eyes spoke louder than any cheering you heard today.

You are patiently waiting for him next to his changing room, it’s where Emma told you to go. You appreciated that neither she, Izana nor Shinichiro teased you about being romantically involved with their brother. Though you did notice the smile that painted the older brother’s face at your nervousness, so he decides to speak up.

“I’m glad you found each other again.” So that’s what Mikey meant when he said that his brother was a time leaper too. Shinichiro knew about you two, but he trusted Takemichi to do the job of telling Manjiro about you.

You fiddle with your thumbs, leaning against the wall. You don’t have time to get lost in your thoughts before you see Mikey storming down the hallway and towards you, ridding himself of his jacket and all the equipment that was strapped onto him as a form of protection.

“Sir—“ His manager tries to get his attention, but Mikey raises a single hand to dismiss his efforts.

“Whatever it is, cancel it or tell them to wait. I have far more important things to do.” You flush at his words, and you’re about to say something yourself when Manjiro grabs your hand and opens the door to his changing room. He turns out and looks at his manager once again.

“No one’s allowed near my room for a while, okay?” His manager raises a questioning eyebrow.

“But sir, why-“

“It doesn’t take a genius to know why.” Mikey almost gives the man a deadpan look, and the manager seems to understand almost immediately and flushes before bowing his head and walking away in a hurry.

You are amused at how eager Mikey is about the whole situation, but you can’t deny that you feel nervous about being alone with him in his changing room. It’s fancy and private, exactly what you imagine Mikey to have since it’s not any different from his house.

Once the door is closed and locked, Mikey turns around to face you and he lets out a fascinated “wow”, eyes darting over the newest version of his old uniform.

“You like it?” Your voice is shy, and you feel small under his gaze as he takes a step closer to you. His hand reaches to grab the hem of your shirt and you see how his thumb grazes over the fabric. His eyes travel all the way up to your face before letting out a hum.

“Ask me again if I like it,” Manjiro’s voice is barely above a whisper, you feel his other hand grab your jaw.

“Do you like it?” You can’t finish the sentence properly before he’s yanking you towards him by your shirt, the hand that was holding the hem of your shirt resting on the small of your back. His nose brushes against yours, and his eyes dart over your face in search for any sign of hesitance or wanting him to pull away.

Instead, you’re a blushing mess. But there’s a proud grin on your face, and you’re biting your bottom lip in hopes of controlling it—Mikey thinks you look too pretty up close.

“I love it, a lot.” He brushes his lips against yours, pulls back when he feels you trying to kiss him properly and when you whine, he lets out a small chuckle.

“What? You wanna kiss me?” You don’t give him a verbal response, but you catch him off guard and capture his lips in a deep kiss. You can tell he is taken aback, but the hand that was resting on your back rests on your face and you almost feel yourself melting from him holding your face with both hands. The kiss is passionate and deep, and you feel yourself being backed up against the wall. You gasp when you feel him pin you there, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth. His hands move down from your face to grip your hips, and when he pulls away, you’re a panting mess.

He rests his forehead against yours, taking in how your face is flushed and your eyes have a thin layer of lust coating them. He hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before biting the skin there.

“I need to hear it.” And somehow, you don’t even have to ask him to know what he means.

“I’m yours, I wanna be yours.” He bites at your jaw, then asks you to say it again.

“Yours-“

“Fuck yeah, mine.” He gently nips at your neck, and you can’t think properly to tell him not to leave any love bites there. Again, you are reminded by how strong he is when he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist, walking towards the couch. He lays you down there, and when you see him get down on his knees, you start panicking.

“Manjiro, you don’t have to-“ he grabs your hand and places it on his crotch, and your lips part in shock when you feel the bulge in his pants. Already? Just from making out? Your face was burning enough.

“Feel that? Yeah, I have to.” You let him take off your shoes for you, and let out a surprised squeal when he rids you of your shorts and panties in one go. You hear him groan at the sight, shamelessly spreading your legs wider for him before pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh.

“Can smell you from here, sweet thing.” His voice is raspy, and you only nod in response while licking your lips. Your hands grab at the hem of your shirt and you’re ready to pull it over your head before Mikey stops you.

“Keep it. Wanna fuck you in it.” You feel dizzy at his words. You’ve always known that Mikey was confident but this was a whole new person, not that you were complaining.

Manjiro presses a few loving kisses on your inner thighs before getting to your pussy where he stares at it for a few moments. You don’t have to feel self-conscious, he doesn’t let you as he presses his nose against the patch of pubes sitting right above where you wanted him the most. He parts your pussy lips with his fingers, and swipes his tongue over your folds, smiling when you give that adorable gasp over the initial contact. His thumb pulls the hood of your clit, before pressing his tongue against it. And when he sees the way you squirm and try to move away, he knows he’s doing a good job. His tongue assaults your clit over and over again—kissing, sucking and humming against the sensitive bud as his middle and ring finger push past your folds. You are far too gone to react properly to the intrusion, sitting up with a flushed face and uncontrollable moans leaving your lips.

Your stomach twitches and relaxes a couple of times, and Mikey can tell you are trying not to cum fast. So he curls his fingers up, grazing that one spot that has you covering your mouth and throwing your head back. He keeps finger fucking you at the same angle and pace, grinning to himself when your breathing stutters and you cum around his fingers, gushing so sweetly with the prettiest moans leaving your lips.

Mikey is back on his feet almost immediately, the fucked out look on your face making him groan to himself as he pulls his pants down enough to free his cock from its confines. It’s pretty, has a slight curve to it and the tip is flushed red. Your mouth waters at the sight, hands squeezing your boobs while staring up at him, begging him to put it in your mouth.

“Not today, baby,” he reaches for a random drawer next to him and pulls out a condom. You don’t have to question him before he’s wrapping it around his cock. “Today is all about you.”

It was pretty ironic considering the pathetic moan he lots out the moment he pushes himself inside you. Your pussy welcomes him with so much ease, and you wrap your legs around him to pull him impossibly closer to you. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss when he starts to move his hips against yours.

“Oh fuck baby, you feel good.” Manjiro says against your lips and you can only moan in response, the angle at which he is fucking you knocking the wind out of your chest. You are already feeling dizzy enough from the sheer force of his thrusts, but when you pull your legs up on his shoulders, Mikey gives you a look that could only mean trouble.

You gasp in surprise when he lifts up your hips, pushing your upper body deeper into the couch and he starts fucking you hard. His hips are driving into yours so harshly that you feel the couch move with every movement and the sounds—fuck, you just hope that the room is soundproof because the cries you are letting out along with Mikey’s occasional groans of “fuck yeah” “that’s it, take it.” Are straight up pornographic.

Your hands try to cling onto his shoulders, but settle on his muscular arms. You feel the muscle flex under your fingers, and you feel a little embarrassed that feeling his strength was what tipped you over the edge. You cum around him with a loud yelp, body stuttering and shuddering against his. You try to cling onto him for support, throwing your head back when you feel him press his thumb against your clit. You whine in overstimulation.

“I can’t—fuck, I can’t!”

“Oh yes you can, come on baby, make me proud.” Your eyes roll to the back of his head at the overwhelming sensation of his cock bullying its way inside along with his thumb over your clit. You think it’s humanly impossible to cum again in such a short amount of time, but you do it. Mikey pulls it out of you and this time, he collapses on top of you as you both reach your orgasms at the same time.

You think it’s magical, your fingers resting at the back of his head to brush the few hairs there. You feel him pant against your skin and hum, pressing a few kisses there.

“Need to clean you up,” you giggle at how sleepy he sounds but nod anyway.

“Yes, you do.”

“Can I just do it with my mouth?” You gasp in terror, trying to push his heavy body off of you.

“No! I’m too sensitive.” You feel him pout against your skin, but he gets off of you and traces his hands over your lower body.

“I like you like this, you’re so pretty.” Mikey reaches his hand up and pinches one of your nipples, making you gasp and smack his hand.

“Manjiro, keep your hands to yourself.” You see his eye twitch at your comment, and suddenly he flips you on all fours and smacks your ass harshly.

“Face down, I need to taste you again.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

#moon's works #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tr smut #mikey x reader #mikey x reader fluff #mikey tokyo revengers #manjiro smut #sano mikey manjiro #tokrev manjiro #manjiro x reader #manjiro sano #manjiro x y/n #sano manjiro x reader #mikey sano #mikey smut #future mikey #mikey x you

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bakugoushotwife · 1 year ago

Text

no, please don’t kill me mr. ghostface, i wanna be in the sequel!

>>> you didn’t think you were making it out of kinktober without a visit from ghostface, did you? all cute and sweet pieces, blegh. it's time to play...happy halloween—don’t hang up on me you bitch!

>>> cw: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION. NO MINORS. dark content ahead. inspired by scream 1996. murder, blood, gore, stalking, yandere!characters, ghostface!characters, manipulation, major character death, alternate no curses!reality, physical harm to reader, manhandling, knifeplay, costumed sex, prone bone, dub con, non con just in case tbh, biting, choking spanking, face-slap, degradation (whore, slut, bitch, etc), praise, breeding, doggy, blood consumption, mating press, throat fucking, edging, double penetration, fingering/knife-fucking (?) (f!receiving) anal. threesome mfm/mmf, breeding. let me know if i missed anything. >>> wc: 15.8k >>> event masterlist: >>> playlist

you were starting to get majorly freaked out. the past year or so had been the worst of your life. your college professor was murdered last fall—sending the small town into a frenzy. some people were mortified. how could someone so brutal be lurking in the shadows of this cheery town? they stopped walking to school and carpooled instead, kids no longer played in the yards, and women rarely went out unaccompanied. some people thought it was funny—something interesting to talk about after years of mundane crimes barely making the news.

you were feeling something much more complex than just fear or interest; you were battling grief. grief that no one else even knew about, adding to the complexity of your feelings. toji was just your business professor—one that you paid frequent visits to on and off campus. you did a good job of covering your tracks, coming up with lie after lie to keep your friends well distracted from your taboo hook-ups with the community’s favorite teacher. they would bully you to tears if they knew you gave your virginity to dr. fushiguro—and between satoru and suguru’s relentless teasing, you would never know peace again.

plus, it’s nearly been a year, and you were nothing more than the other woman, a young girl that caught his attention over the monotony of marriage. it wasn’t going anywhere, and you knew that. in a way, the emotions you grappled with weren’t grief at all—but guilt. toji had young children—what you did was wrong. you felt that way when he was alive and you were actively doing it—but something about him pulled you in. maybe it was your own naivety that was to blame for believing him when he promised you he would leave his wife for you–all just to get you to put out again and put off your friends. maybe it was the subconscious belief that he was the best you would get, the best you deserved. your parents were hardly winning any awards for their methods, and the only other men in your life have been around you since high school, the aforementioned relentless teasers: satoru gojo and suguru geto.

you like to think that you put it all behind you, but you can’t stop this creeping feeling that toji fushiguro was murdered because of you.

and that wasn’t the end of the weird happenings. your lab partner—kento nanami unceremoniously dropped out this month, so the rumors around campus say, but you have a bad feeling about it. you’ve been calling him for days with no response, he has no after school work presence, and his best friend looks like he’s seen a ghost anytime you’re around. it was all the school was talking about, especially approaching the anniversary of dr. fushiguro’s death.

“i say he was murdered, just like the professor. we have a real serial killer on our hands, ladies and gents!” ieiri shoko—a haphazard extension of your friend group—wiggles her brows, reclined back on her hands to survey the rest of you as she puffs her cigarette.

gojo rolls his eyes, giving the speaker an unimpressed look. “i think they gotta tick a few more boxes before it’s a serial killer, no? only two murders, and so far apart?” he shakes his head to discount the theory. he makes a good point, perhaps it was just a creepy coincidence after all. there’s no reason to freak yourself out over nothing.

“yeah? well i think it’s connected too.” iori says from her spot on the ground, her head laying in your lap as you braid and unbraid her hair, just keeping your brain occupied on something other than the death that seems to follow you.

“yeah? and that’s why you don’t get paid for thinkin’.” gojo snickers, utahime’s annoyed attempt to swat at him blocked by suguru’s body, the two of them sitting behind you at the picnic tables out in the open sun. it made you feel a little safer, surrounded by friends and in a place where you could keep an eye out. you trust gojo and geto to watch your back.

satoru continues to giggle on about it until shoko interrupts, taking her cigarette out of her mouth and pointing gojo down with it. “what if they just pick one of us every year–some kind of halloween sacrifice?” she posits, and your eyes widen. the boys exchange a look, and suguru’s voice of reason cuts in.

“let’s leave the detective work to the police, yeah? i’m sure sheriff zen’in wants to solve his nephews murder.” he leans back against the table while gojo balances his weight with his elbows on his knees.

“yeah right. the sheriff couldn’t give a damn. ” you scoff, biting your tongue at the fact you spoke on the subject at all, but especially something so vague—implying you know more about toji than the normal student, and your cautious friends are also perceptive, you fear.

“what’s that s’pposed to mean? our loyal piggy doesn’t wanna protect the community?” gojo leans forward on his knees, bringing his face closer to yours. he’s studying you—every nervous shift of your eyes, the seconds you let pass before you answer, everything, and you know it.

“of…course he does. i only meant—”

“pshhh, everyone knows those zen’in families are weird.” utahime swings in to save you—feeling the way your body tenses under your best friends interrogating stare “why d’you think his last name is fushiguro instead, hm? probably left the family to be a better person—how dreamy of him.” she sighs wistfully, having been another one of the many girls that would have killed to be in your place. “and that old bastard probably doesn’t care. he probably did it himself, knowing how corrupt–”

“smoking on campus, are we, students?” headmaster yaga walks up to send the conversation to a screeching halt. shoko quickly snuffs out her butt on her boot, crumpling the evidence in her hand as the man comes closer. suguru’s never quite cared about the opinions of his elders, and he won’t start now. he keeps slowly dragging his—making eye contact with the headmaster as he comes to a stop before your group in the grass. “geto. you mind?”

he arches his brow in annoyance, sticking out his tongue to burn the ash on. gojo giggles. “what an anarchist!” he cheers jovially, nudging his friend with his elbow. “we didn’t see any no smoking signs sir, swear.”

suguru cracks a lazy grin at the defense, looking at yaga patiently. “i’m sure you’ve heard the news about your fellow classmate.” he starts, and utahime sits up properly to question him more specifically.

“that he dropped out? yeah–we heard that days ago.” she confronts with furrowed brows. you can tell by the clench of yaga’s jaw that there’s more news. your heart sinks to your stomach, that bad feeling you had making an ugly return with the shifting of yaga’s stance.

“what–did they find him?!” you push yourself up to stand, heart pounding in your ears. if kento was dead, was it your fault too somehow?

yaga turns to you with a sad and curt nod. “they did. he was…strung up outside of his house–brutally murdered. his parents found him. all we know so far is that he was on the phone when he died. his mother heard him.”

you cover your mouth with shaky hands. how awful, to hear your own son gargle his last breaths? what a horrible way to go, you can’t believe your stoic and stern lab partner was no more, meeting a fate so horrible you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemies.

“how awful…his poor family.” iori shakes her head, too stunned to speak further. shoko replaces her cigarette with a fresh lollipop, lost in her own head; no doubt contemplating the morbid horror film most closely resembling the current situation—she has a fixation with death.

“there will be a memorial fundraiser to help his family with the funeral costs.” yaga nods, arms folded over his chest. he was clearly at a loss for words, though what could one even really say? he settled for, “be wary, kids. the sheriff’s department will be issuing a curfew. please be safe.”

iori nods as the headmaster walks away—turning back to look at everyone. you hug yourself, feeling a chill in the air that only reminds you of what time of year it is—halloween. you’re still lost in thought, wondering what toji and nanami could have possibly had in common outside of knowing you and being at this school. what motive could be, who was next.

satoru and suguru exchange a look. they can see how wound up you are, noting that you seemed to know that something had happened to nanami before you were told. shoko breaks the silence first.

“this is just like scream, you know? spooky phone calls and brutal killings—says here that he was gutted and suspended from a tree.” she shakes her head, reading the pixelated news article from her nokia screen—grossed out and intrigued at the same time.

iori gasps, “that’s awful—don’t compare his death to a movie, ieiri!” she scolds, noticing you off in la la land. “earth to y/n…hellooooo? i hope this isn’t a scary movie because you are so dying first.” she snarks, and gojo arches his brows and grins mischievously at the sentiment. he gets to his feet, creeping up behind you–jerking you by the shoulders and gasping just to scare you.

you scream and jump back—punching him in the chest. “you jerk!’ you huff as he covers his stomach with laughter, stumbling back into his bench seat. suguru gives you an apologetic smile, standing and offering you his hand.

“c’mon, let me walk you home.” he tilts his head towards the path you take. gojo jumps up too.

“i’ll come with! make up for my prank?” he pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder. his icy blue gaze stays trained on you until you finally give in and look at him, making a bright grin spread across his face.

shoko huffs, “you’re an insensitive asshat—i’m sure you’re not taking this seriously because you always picked on kento. i wonder if the piggies know that!”

“he was a nerd—that’s all!” he scoffs with an eye roll, “oh yeah, so now i killed the guy, huh?” he furrows his brows, insulted by shoko’s insinuation that he could stoop so low.

“no one said that, satoru.” suguru claps his free hand down on the other’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “let’s all relax. i know this is scary, so make sure we walk in partners, at least.”

utahime gags and rolls her eyes at the dramatics, stretching out before getting to her feet. you look to her, thinking you should make sure your fellow woman makes it to her dorm, but suguru’s voice cuts through your thoughts again.

“we just want to make sure you get home safely with all of this going on, you look…worried.” suguru comments, stretching his palm out to remind you that his hand was extended for you. your heart warms at his kindness. he’s always been a gentle giant–especially compared to satoru; who has his own charms to him like his sense of humor and his striking good looks. he takes care of you in his own ways—but suguru’s always been more traditional. you place your hand in his, smiling thankfully. he turns to the other girls, but yu haibara is already escorting them the other way, careful to avoid you entirely. your shoulders slump at the idea that he blames you for nanami’s death.

gojo slings an arm around your shoulders and they steer you towards your off campus rental. it’s a little two bedroom one bath—no satoru mansion, but it does the trick. you’re rarely there anyways, bouncing between your friends’ residences for the “dates” you all go on—though ieiri and iori aren’t typically included.

“so this stuff’s really got you messed up in the noodle, huh?” satoru asks, exchanging careful glances with his opposite. you hum so he knows you heard him, settling into the rhythm they were walking for you. you don’t know if it’s the question or the crisp autumn air that makes you shiver—maybe it’s the way they both watch you so intensely, though the longer you think about it the more you realize they’ve kinda always been like that, letting their eyes stay on you too long, analyzing your features to decipher how you really feel. you can’t hide a thing from them. you can only buy yourself time.

“yeah. i guess so.” you settle on, tucking your cheek into your shoulder. you knew they would ask for more specifics, all in the due process of taking care of you.

“were you even close to that nanami guy?” suguru follows up, brows raised in curiosity. you know this trap. it was a miracle you’ve ever been able to keep toji a secret. they’ve always taken a special interest in your love life—they’re protective over you, and wanted to vet any potential match for you. but the boys you met in high school were easily scared off by the strong and intimidating friends of yours, so you figured college wouldn’t be much different. hence why you didn’t try—taking toji’s affection like a gift that fell into your lap.

“he was my lab partner, so we’ve done a few projects together. he seemed like a nice guy, never crossed any lines. responsible. the sort.” you shrug again, not wanting to seem too invested. “i guess it’s just…weird. he was here one day and now he’s not, and killed so brutally…it doesn’t feel real.” you explain, and suguru seems to reflect on the words.

“people die all the time, sugar. maybe he got caught up in something he shouldn’t’ve, maybe wrong place wrong time, or maybe he was eyeing something that didn’t belong to him. who knows. no use troubling yourself over it.” gojo shrugs, sliding his hand up to pat the back of your head.

“that’s easy for you men to say! if some serial killer came after you, you could fight ‘em off. i have no chance if he was…to pick me next.” you retort, trying to make them see why you were so amped up about it.

“what makes you think that he would pick you next?” suguru furrows his brows, but gojo just tilts his head side to side to mull it over.

“nanami was a man, right? i wonder why he died.” he thinks aloud, shrugging. you snap your head towards him to chastise him for such a statement, but suguru clears his throat.

“you have nothing to worry about, right? like satoru said earlier. these are isolated incidents, and they’ve only gone after men so far. chin up, angel.” he insists as you three walk up the steps to your house.

you take a deep but shaky breath, nodding. suguru was right. the only victims have been men. toji’s death and subsequently nanami’s had nothing to do with each other. it was just your guilt gnawing at you. if you didn’t get yourself together, your perceptive bodyguards would pick up on the fact that you were hiding something from them. “thank you. i…needed to hear that.” you nod in satisfaction.

“i’ll call you later, just to make sure you’re still..doing alright.” he assures, patting your hand before he drops it. gojo squeezes you into him, ruffling your hair.

“don’t worry, cutie. we’ll see you tomorrow!! dream of me!” he calls out as their figures retreat.

once the door shuts behind you, you sigh out a breath of relief.

you get some homework and laundry done in the few hours you have before bed. it’s a regular routine, but that’s why you found peace in it. you make yourself some dinner and cozy up on the couch, flipping through the channels to find something to make some noise outside of your loud brain. nanami’s picture makes you pause on the news, the reporter droning on about the case. according to phone records from that night, someone called his house six times, calls various in length from where kento was allegedly hanging up and trying to ignore the killer.

“it seems the young man was stalked from outside his home for the entire night—making a valiant effort to run according to forensics before he eventually succumbed to his injuries. the case is ongoing, and due to the nature of the crime, sheriff zen’in has ordered a curfew of 8pm, beginning friday.”

you’re reeling at the report, stunned beyond belief. it’s hard for you to even envision something so horrible. he must have been so scared. when your home phone rings—you’re jumping out of your skin–scambling up the couch with a scream. you stare at the receiver on the little side table next to you, fear nipping up your spine. that reporter said that nanami had been called repeatedly the night of his death—but suguru also promised to call. you decide to take the chance, satoru lives close enough that you could call him for help if it was this mysterious serial killer instead of one of your best friends on the other line—plus, nanami’s slaughter showed that ignoring the call wouldn’t help a thing.

you reach out a shaky hand, feeling your throat go dry and tight as your sweaty palm grabs the receiver. like it makes a difference, you quickly put it up to your ear, looking around frantically. you never realized how many windows your house has, and now it feels like you’re naked for the world to see. “hello?”

“hey, angel.” suguru’s luxurious voice calms your nerves instantly, like throwing water on a fire. you relax back into the cushions, sighing audibly.

“h-hey.” you card your fingers through your hair in attempt to rid yourself of any lingering anxiety.

“i take it you aren’t feeling better about the whole ordeal then?” he sighs with you, gnawing on his bottom lip a little. you were troublesome for his own nerves.

you play with the spiral cord connecting the receiver to the landline. “i was, i swear! then i saw the news and they were warning about phones like yaga did earlier and then–”

“your phone rang. sorry about my timing then, sweetheart. did you eat?” he interrupts, but his concern makes you tingle with warmth. they may be overbearing at times, but it’s so clear how much they care about you.

“mhm. i have some leftovers though, if you’re still hungry. i could…use some company?” you weakly excuse, slightly embarrassed to basically beg for his protection; but the truth was that you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight unless you had some comfort.

he chuckles softly and smiles into the phone when he agrees. “of course. i’ll be right over. give me ten minutes—i’ll bring slushies.” he hums enticingly, and you give him a choked up chuckle of relief. he would protect you through the night–and make sure that you had a good time, too.

“kk, sounds good. i want the cherry one!” you tell him like he doesn’t already know everything about your preferences.

“i know you want the cherry—i’m not a psychopath.” he chuckles with you, his car’s engine humming to life in the background. “i’ll see you soon angel. hang tight.” the line goes dead, but you’re no longer filled with a sense of dread, even if you were still nervous about the murderer on the loose.

while you wait on suguru, you do some more channel surfing. you wonder what satoru’s up to tonight and if he’ll be peeved that he wasn’t invited to hang out. who are you kidding, of course he’ll be jealous. you reach over for the phone to call him—even with suguru’s headstart he would probably still beat him here if you got to him now. the high pitched ringing of the phone sounds off again just as your hand wraps around it, making you jump just slightly—it caught you off guard, is all. it’s probably suguru calling to tell you that 7/11 is out of cherry—they’re always out of cherry. annoyed, you put the receiver to your ear.

“ugh, don’t tell me—”

“hello y/n.” the slightly garbled deep voice says. you don’t recognize it–and your heart drops to your stomach. this, this is who’s been murdering people, this is him. this is who they warned you about—why suguru is sneaking out to come see you through the night–suguru. you have to buy enough time for him to get here, if nothing else.

“who are you?” you ask, trying to give your voice some bravado. you start searching the windows again, the eerie sensation that you aren’t alone was making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. goddamn you need to invest in a dog.

“blegh–boring question. i want to know who you are, precious y/n.” the voice states, male in nature, but you can’t distinguish anything past that. your heart races at the avoidance.

“you know my name, and my phone number. seems to me you know who i am.” you clench your jaw together to keep your teeth from chattering, willing yourself to be intimidating. the voice on the other end cackles in amusement.

“you’re funny y/n. i mean the real you, silly girl! let’s play a game. for every question you get right, the longer i’ll let you live. every question you get wrong…one of your friends… dies!” he seems very entertained with himself over the threats, making the fear bubble up over your heart.

“m-my boyfriend is on the way! he’s really big and he’ll beat your ass–”

“and he’ll be the first one dead! question numero uno, and we’re starting easy!! oh, don’t cry now! you can do it, c’mon, iori and ieiri need you right? those are your girlfriends–and that’s not the first question!” he titters again, but his name drops make your rapidly beating heart still in your chest. “how far away is your little boyfriend?”

your chest heaves, the stranger’s wish for you not to cry was wasted. he knows everything–all your friends names—maybe the fact you hadn’t called satoru tonight was the only thing keeping him safe. you wonder how long this stalker must have been following you, listening to you. you wonder if he killed toji too—and why.

“l-like…six minutes, or so. I-i don’t know!” you cry out, clutching the receiver. you think about the consequences of hanging up—maybe that is what angered him into killing nanami. you better stay on the line.

“good girl. see? not that hard! just keep using that noggin’ of yours!” he encourages, breathing heavily into his side of the phone.

you nod, sure he can see you anyway. you shrink into the couch as if it will swallow you whole and keep you safe, but the feeling of comfort is short-lived.

“why was toji fushiguro murdered??”

you blanche. he is responsible. this is…all your fault after all. your worst fears are coming true right in front of you, and suguru cannot get here fast enough to stop it.

“i…i don’t know! i didn’t do it!” you put your hand over your other ear, trying to ball up and make this all go away.

“wrong answerrrr. you’ll find out soon that i’m not bluffing, sugar. let’s try again. why was toji fushiguro butchered?”

how does he know? toji must have told people. that’s the only logical explanation—you know that you haven’t spoken of it to a soul. this man knew, and killed him for it? was he related to toji’s wife, here for revenge? where did kento fit into this—is it really all about you?

you can hardly hear yourself respond over your heartbeat echoing in your ears, pumping your blood in a rush. “i..i dunno!! because i slept with him!?”

“ding ding ding! i knew you were a smart girl. but you do know that makes you a little slut, right? do you know that means you killed him, sugar!” he hisses the last part, as if personally hurt by the notion.

“i..it was wrong–yes–but i..i–” you try to explain, but realize the stranger has no reason to allow it. he’s here to punish you, and you have to either accept this lying down, or try to put up some kind of fight.

“is that two wrong answers? you’ll sentence your best friends to death over your pride, slut? how disappointing.”

“no, no–i am!” you clench your eyes shut, finding it easy to beg for their lives. if this caller was to be believed, then you already knew he wasn’t bluffing.

“you’re what? hmmm y/n?” his voice gets louder, like he’s closer to the device.

“i’m a…slut!” your cheeks burn, you shift uncomfortably on the couch as you wait for the stranger to reply. “please sir.”

“last question–speed round. what door am i at? your front door…or your porch?”

thoughts stop and instinct takes over, causing you to drop the phone and run to your porch–a sliding glass door with flimsy locks. you turn on all the lights, hoping to ward off whatever evil lurked in the night hunting you. you click all the locks in place, sprinting now towards your front door, which stood open already.

“no..” you say aloud, voice a broken whisper of realization. he was already in your house. maybe he had been the whole time, you don’t know anything anymore. all you can think about was suguru’s arrival—hoping you could last for a few minutes longer. you spin around, deciding to venture back the way you came. it was already cleared, he couldn’t have slipped behind—a gloved hand covers your mouth—leather thick enough to smother, and you throw your elbow back as hard as you can, stunning the captor into letting your face go. with a hurried gasp, you’re sprinting for your life. you run to your porch door, grappling with the lock that you just secured. you keep looking over your shoulder, waiting for the figure to reemerge, shaking the lock with all your might. you hear the footsteps, looking over your shoulder to see a tall monstrosity—cloaked in ghostface’s attire. you scream out and throw the door open. shutting it on him before he had the chance to grab you again.

your heart is racing and you aren’t sure where to go next, attempting to clear your fence to get to the main yard of your house, maybe you could get to suguru first. the killer is faster though, both in mind and in body. he grabs your ankle before you can get all the way over, yanking you back to his domain. you scream for help, but there’s no one around to hear you.

“my boyfriend—he’s scary, please mister!” you fight, kicking and thrashing to get all the openings to escape that you could. “let me go!” you throw your legs, connecting with his stomach. he reflexively clutched it in pain, giving you a window to scramble back to your feet and back into your house through the porch door you escaped from. locking it would be a waste, you just start throwing down whatever you could get your hands on to make an obstacle course for the masked man. you assume the cheap costume doesn’t have the best visibility, and you hope to use that to your advantage.

you sprint for the front door, hearing the grunting and frustrated groans of the man chasing you. you blink through your panicked tears, grasping at straws for what to do next. it’s then that you hear the gravel of your driveway crunch under what could only be tires—and who could only be suguru. you shove your couch in between you and the killer, flailing yourself down your front steps and into the yard, sobbing and out of breath, scrapes and scratches showing the evidence of the chase.

suguru is out of his car in an instant, by your side even quicker. he seems to put two and two together at the sight of you, running into the house just in time to see the ghostface impersonator sneak out of your living room window, fading into the distance. you can’t let suguru go very far, terrified beyond measure as you glue to his side and cry into his shirt once he assures you the scary man is gone.

he holds your face, trying to soothe you the best way he knows how. “shh, shh, let’s call the sheriff, alright? this has to be reported.” he insists, holding you to his chest as he picks up your phone to call the police to your home, your kitchen and living room a mess of the night that would undoubtedly scar you for life. you nod, burying your face in his comforting scent. “just tell them what happened, and make sure you tell them everything.” he encourages, petting your hair as you wait for them to arrive.

your heart sinks at the prospect of revealing your secrets to the police. surely they don’t need to know every word exchanged on the phone. you can communicate the gist. you rehearse in your head what to say—but nothing prepared you for sheriff zen’in putting suguru in cuffs and shoving him in the back of a squad car.

you protest, proclaiming his innocence–but the sheriff says if he’s truly done nothing wrong, then he can answer a few of their questions down at the station. you ride in a car too, like a passenger instead of a prisoner, to report what happened in detail that night. you can hardly get through an account of it—too nervous about suguru’s interview. he didn’t even wait for a lawyer, and had already used his phone call. deputy choso finally lets you go once it’s apparent you’re too shaken up to give them anymore than your scrambled memory, about being home and talking to suguru and then a very…summarized version of your call with the killer—and of course your run from him.

you’re relieved when a just-rolled-out-of-bed satoru throws the station doors open, face stern as he scans for you. his features soften when they land on yours, and he’s pulling you into his arms before you’ve even really processed that he’s here. suguru must have used his call on him, to make sure you were taken care of in the event they want to hold him overnight—you’re touched.

“y/n, what happened?! suguru said—a ghostface broke into your house?? are you alright, are you hurt—what are they talking to him for?” he asks, cradling your head on his chest after gawking at your bandaged ankle. you shake your head on him, just wrapping your arms around his waist.

“i dunno, the guy chased me, satoru—i thought i was going to die!! suguru got there just in time, he saved me, and they’re treating him like he’s a criminal! get him out of there—call your dad or something this is bullshit!” you heave, panicky breaths shaking out over his shirt.

he rubs your back, finding suguru’s eyes through the blinds over sheriff zen’in’s window. he takes a steadying breath, clearly trying to set an example for you to follow. “it’s gonna be okay, c’mon, you believe in your ole pal satoru, right?” he leans back, hands on your shoulders to give you a reassuring look. his nod gives you the faith to do the same, leaning back into his chest for that feeling of safety that seems so fleeting these days.

satoru goes back and forth with the deputy about holding suguru overnight, threatening the mayor’s intervention. but deputy choso calls his bluff, rolling his eyes in clear aggravation.

“even the mayor’s asleep right now, kid. unless daddy’ll come running at three a.m, geto’s spending the night.”

“we have classes tomorrow you dipshit. y/n was literally expecting him—what can you even be holding him on?” satoru bucks, arching his brow. it’s rare that he gets serious, but when he does he comes correctly.

“reasonable suspicion.” choso shrugs, leaning back in his desk chair. “doesn’t suguru know how to clone phone numbers? i seem to remember some trouble the two of you got in for prank calling.”

“in eighth grade?” gojo scoffs, grabbing your hand roughly. you know it’s just because he’s wound up about the situation at hand. first your attack, then they cage suguru up like an animal, and now he’s dealing with dumbass deputy dewey. “prank calling to psycho murderer, huh? i suppose that is the only logical fuckin step!” he shakes his head in disbelief, dragging you from the station. “let’s go, sugar. time to get you back to bed—”

ice floods your veins. “what did you just call me?” you pull back out of his grip, looking at him with wide eyes. satoru’s face falters as he searches over yours, paused mid-speech.

“what, sugar? i’ve called you that for years, y/n!” he rolls his eyes, sighing. “so paranoid, goodness. c’mon.” he pats your lower back, urging you into a steady stride alongside him. “let’s go to my place. wouldn’t want there to be a second strike or anything.”

you still stare at him with that quiet unease, brain racing through your conversation with ghostface. “h-he called me that, too.” you mutter, stumbling over your own feet every few steps. satoru slips his arm around your waist to keep you close and to keep you from falling.

“well, i didn’t exactly coin the nickname, i must admit.” he forcibly chuckled. “babe, please.” he rolls his eyes at your steady disbelief. “if i wanted to kill ya, do you not think i could pretty easily? i mean, my dad’s the mayor and you have no family. clearly, i only have your best interest at heart, y/n.” he raises his brow, and as blunt as his statement may be, it is effective. satoru’s strong enough to crush you in one hand, if he wanted to. plus they’d be the only ones that missed you if you were gone. “i’ll…try not to call you that anymore.” he adds on the end, squeezing your hip in an effort to give you some peace of mind.

you nod softly, processing. he’s always been sort of crude and a little brutal in his manner of speaking, always followed up by triumphant giggles at his own jokes. it’s his way of protecting you, of playing good cop and bad cop all at once, and over time you’ve gotten used to his bluntness. he was right anyhow, you shouldn’t doubt the only protection you have in times like these. plus, his offer of safety was too good to pass up.

so you let gojo bring you to his huge estate, not affiliated with the mayor’s property downtown, no, this was just for satoru alone. it was expansive but still held onto that homestyle feeling. his bedroom was cozy, warm and safe like his arms around you, protecting you through the last few hours of the night.

news of your attack had spread like a forest fire around campus by the following morning. of course everyone’s in your face, all swarming around you in hopes they could get any bits of information—did the ghostface mention nanami? how did you escape? why was suguru still at the station if he rescued you?

luckily satoru is there to serve as the buffer between you and the crowd, your other friends close in quickly as well, shoving and cussing until the path cleared and the rules to leave you be were instilled. you weren’t even sure how you were up and walking right now. you were exhausted between the chase and your collective two hours of sleep. your worry was weighing you down, the haunting anxiety of being attacked again, of causing more of your friends to be killed due to your wrong answers, of getting suguru into serious trouble just because this town wanted someone to blame for this. you felt like you’ve had too many iced coffees, body wired and fidgeting as you try to avoid all the lingering stares by making your way to the bathroom to hide for a bit—just long enough to let everyone settle into classes, so you can peacefully get to yours.

you hear a couple of girls chit-chatting between the stalls, a voice you recognize saying your name followed by a near audible eye-roll. you quickly tuck yourself into a stall so they don’t see you when they come out, heart racing now that you seem to be the topic of conversation.

“i bet she’s making it all up. i mean—a ghostface costume? really? that movie came out thirteen years ago! i mean if we’re getting in the halloween spirit, why not jigsaw?” she snickers, the metal door to the stall clanging open to signify that they’ve left—the water running at the sinks.

“mei mei! that’s awful, why do you hate her so much?” the other girl teases, grabbing some paper towels. you bite your lip in wait, insulted beyond belief that she could think you were that big of an attention whore.

“because gojo and geto follow that girl around like she has some kind of…spell on them! i wouldn’t be surprised if she killed dr. fushiguro. she was in his class last year—and he seemed to pick on her a lot. maybe he was some…witchy sacrifice to make the two hottest guys at this school fall in love with her! nanami was this years!” she reveals as if she’s solved the crimes herself, simply from being so self-aware.

“that’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said, skank!” her friend dismisses with laughter, their voices fading as the bathroom door squeals shut, telling you they’ve left for good. you lean against the door of your stall for a moment, raking your hands over your face to cope with the cold sweat coating your skin and the disbelief gripping your heart. you fidget with the lock, stumbling out to the sinks for something to bring you back to life. you turn the faucet on, thinking some cold water would do the trick. it helps you perk up a bit even when it just hits your hands. before you can cup any and splash your face, a chill creeps up your spine—you’re being watched.

you bend over, looking under the doors of each stall to make sure there weren’t any feet lurking behind the doors waiting to attack you. you don’t see anything, puffing out your cheeks as you exhale and right your posture. you make eye contact with yourself in the mirror. you have to snap out of this, you tell yourself, raking your hands over your face, tugging at your eyes and rubbing your cheeks in an effort to remind yourself of reality.

“y/nnnn.” the distorted voice echoes in your mind, making you gasp and spin around to look at the stalls, look all over the bathroom, nearly flattening your chest to the floor to look under the stalls again. again, nothing. your brain is playing tricks on you. you’ve officially lost it. what was the likelihood of being attacked in your campus bathroom anyway—especially since he started at your house? you take a deep breath and gather your backpack up, hearing the clanking metal sound of one of the stall locks. “don’t ignore me, y/n.”

you squat down, there had to be someone there this time. you knew paranoia could only go so far, that voice sending your heart into a fearful spiral.

boots descend from the toilet, planting firmly on the ground. you start to breathe heavily, a jagged black cloak lowered to tell you that you were indeed being targeted by a ghostface impersonator, and you scream. he lunges out of the stall—a huge hunting knife clasped in both hands over his head as you duck, limboing under his attack and making for the door.

“help me!!” you scream frantically, voice so shrill it hurts your throat. you feel the heat of his body against your back, so you fling your head backwards into his chest—surprising him enough to falter. you fling the door open, making that connect too, scrambling for any extra time and space you could get. your vision is blurred by the nervous tears that spring automatically, searching for an exit or someone to help. you see a few guys standing together at the end of the hall—one of which has stark white hair that you could recognize from worlds away. “satoru!! he’s here, help!!”

the frantic desperation in your voice grabs all of their attention, satoru and naoya zen’in—grandson of the sheriff–sprint closer to figure out what’s going on. they see the masked man stalking after you, but you can only keep running for your life. your legs nearly give out as you make it to satoru, collapsing in his arms. his eyes are wide as he pushes you back behind him, turning to deal with the intruder—but the zen’in beats him to it. he tackles the figure, managing to wrestle the knife away even before the ghostface rolled them to win the struggle, punching naoya hard enough that his head bounced off the floor. you gasp–shoving satoru forward.

“help him!!” you panic, not able to stomach the thought of someone else dying over you. satoru barrels forward and roughly pulls the ghostface off, turning to naoya to ensure he was still alive while the masked figure tumbles to the ground with a grunt. you’re paralyzed with terror as one of the other boys, a freshman named ijichi, checks on you, grabbing your attention with his shaky voice.

“y/n, are you alright? goodness.” he pats your shoulder, and you nod–turning back to the commotion. you catch the sight of the cloak slipping down the stairs, screaming out for gojo to warn him. he quickly moves to follow—but finds no trace of the man. he turns back to you with a shake of his head. he was gone.

satoru moves to pull you to your feet, holding you securely to his chest as yaga and a host of other teachers bustle through the hallways looking frantic.

“he came to this school. that is it!” yaga shakes his head, surveying your crying and terrified form. “classes are canceled until further notice!” he declares, instructing for the cops to be called immediately–and to bring a paramedic for the student injured in your defense. you feel so guilty when you look over at the zen’in boy holding his eye, wincing. he had no business with you and didn’t have to get involved at all, but he likely saved your life!

you sniffle, gently pushing yourself off of gojo with a weak smile. you give him a grateful look, nodding to him in a way that communicated your need to accomplish something. “i’m okay.”

he nods a little, letting his hand fall off of your elbow. he watches you slouch over to naoya as he shoves himself into a seated position. you crouch to his level, giving him a gentle but still anxious smile.

“hey..does it hurt pretty bad?” you ask, sympathetically frowning at the shiner. he scoffs a little at your question. you sure are lucky you’re stunning–and that he has a reputation to uphold.

“yeah? it’s a massive bruise. i’ll live though.” he shrugs, brushing his hair out of the way.

“well…thank you. for doing that, you could have been hurt worse.” you nod, standing. you reach your hand out to help him to his feet. he smiles, and takes your hold despite his usual pride, he’s able to capitalize on some arrogance.

“i had it under control, don’t worry about it. what kind of man would i be if i didn’t step in?” he smirks, and the little look makes you blush. maybe you had a soft spot for the zen’in families good looks.

“i see, well. thank you anyway.” you hum, turning back to satoru. “i guess we’re free to go home, huh? classes are canceled…” you scratch at the back of your neck anxiously, hoping satoru would let you attach like a little lost puppy in order to stay within the realms of safety.

he rubs at your shoulders, wiggling his brows a little. “mhm, way to go, princess. you got us outta school!” he cheers, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “i say, party at my house!! everyone’s invited!” he yells out into the emptying hallway, the announcement of canceled classes causing the majority of your peers to spill into the schoolyard, escaping before the headmaster changes his mind.

the idea of a party right now made you nauseous. anyone of these people could be the ghostface poser or his next victim. you wish you could just hole up in your house, but being alone was hardly an option for you right now. satoru keeps a hand on your back to guide you out of the civics hall, assuring you that a party is exactly what you need to get your mind off of things.

“there’s no way i’d leave your side anyway! plus the girls are gonna be there, and—look who the cat dragged in!” his long finger turns your head in the direction he was looking, and your eyes widen at the sight of suguru waiting against the group’s usual tree. relief floods your system. at least suguru was free, clearly they couldn’t pin this on him like they wanted.

he strolls over to fall in line on your other side, giving you a sly smile. “hey angel. shoko told me what went down, and i am now on your side. that sheriff doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing.” he sighs out as he loops his arm around your shoulders. you give him a proper hug, letting him pick you up slightly to keep walking to satrou’s place. it was a normal happenstance, the two of them loved passing you between them like a toy football they tossed back and forth, this time it was suguru who lifts you from the ground. you wrap your legs around his thighs with a giggle—feeling a bit of lighthearted fun spring to your heart.

“oh don’t tell me you didn’t get the honeymoon suite.” satoru mocks, reaching for your upper half to pull you into his hold, to which you and suguru insist in passing you over. it’s all part of the games they like to play with you.

you roll your eyes. “we tried to get you out, well—sato did. that deputy was a big ole meanie about it.” you huff, being carried like a baby in gojo’s arms. he nods, pouting down at you.

“totally. was gonna get dad on it and everything! but hey—this party will be epic, the girls are getting some snacks, we’re on beer duty!” he cheers happily, gently tossing you up into the air. you freely giggle, falling back into his protective hold. he passes you to suguru, who slings you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. you playfully kick and giggle and that sweet sound prompts satoru into comment. “she’s always so happy with us, huh sugu?”

he pats above your back, nodding. “of course. you’re our girl, right?” he hums, giving satoru a knowing smirk. you squeal a little and nod.

“mhm, i just feel so…safe with you two!” you sigh, relaxing across his shoulder. he finally lowers you to your own two feet once it’s time to walk into the general store with that one boozy cashier that would let geto have whatever he wanted from that store—including his weight in beer probably two times the legal purchase amount. you stroll around the aisles with them, satoru urging you to pick your own snacks over whatever gross shit iori and ieiri brought over.

for once, all seems to be well. you settle into a couch at satoru’s place, letting the boys fight over where they sat, deciding they’d just let you lay across them both. so your new couch becomes satoru and suguru, but they’re just as comfortable. shoko and utahime laugh at the sight when they come in, a few more stragglers that heard satoru’s invite making their way in for the free booze.

shoko of course came with her bag stuffed with horror classic dvds, starting with the obvious scream given her recent comments, and you roll your eyes and groan at the selection. suguru pets your hair back at your reaction, chuckling down at you.

“what, not a horror fan?” he raises a brow, the idea making gojo titter.

“probably not enough lady killers for our princess’ liking.” he elbows geto playfully, squeezing your thigh with his other hand. “or too many bimbos. which is it?” he asks expectantly, blowing some hair out his eyes.

you shrug. “what does sidney say, something about how insulting it is that all the girls are so dumb? always running upstairs when they should be going out a door on ground level. it’s annoying. and yeah—more girl killers!” you giggle back, finally settling into a decent spirit now that you knew you were safe with your friends.

“totally!! carrie’s like all we have!” utahime complains from the floor.

“well—all the victims have been dudes so far. maybe we have a lady ghostface out there.” satoru raises his beer to clink it with utahime’s. she’s already tipsy enough to toast gojo, so you know this night will be eventful, though you can’t help your unease at his statement. you felt like it was important to only pass around the proper information in regards to something like this, even though satoru’s only joking innocently.

“it’s not a woman. he’s too tall.” you mumble, reminding your friends in the room that you’ve suffered at the hands of this killer not once, but twice. your friends shift around awkwardly at the realization that they’ve gone a little too far.

satoru pats your thigh. “hey, y/n—” you assume he was going to apologize, but he’s cut off by the phone. your heart plunges. no, this can’t be happening. not here, not in the safety of satoru’s home–with all of your friends gathered around. your gasp makes a few heads turn to you, and satoru’s face falls at your jumpiness. “hey, it’s alright. probably just my folks. don’t worry. shoko—answer it?”

she nods, though you can tell she’s a little nervous too. she puts the phone to her ear and hums–seemingly recognizing the voice on the other end. the room all takes a collective breath of relief, but that doesn’t last very long. shoko clamps her hand over her mouth as she gasps, turning to you all to repeat what she was just told.

“it’s the sheriff’s grandson—naoya. they found him strung up the flagpole—gutted like nanami!” she whisper yells, sparking the intrigue of most of the mildly intoxicated young adults in the room. she nods a few more times with whoever’s on the other line, shaking her head at the grotesque crime until they hang up.

“well—what are we waiting for, let’s go check it out before they pull him down!” some freshman suggests, getting whoops and hollers from the other nameless faces as the pile out of the room, shoko leading the charge. you’re gripped with fear. this is the last straw. there’s no room to deny it anymore. the only common thread is you. when would this man get gojo? get geto? get ieiri and iori—you? would you have to watch all your friends die in front of you before he finally got you? naoya was not a nice guy, he had wronged plenty of people and was toji’s cousin—but he had saved you that day. and been punished for it.

“i need to go lie down.” you declare, sitting up on the only two men you could trust these days—which only made you fear for their safety that much more. suguru looks up at you wistfully, seeming to understand. gojo pouts, but nods his head towards his room.

“we’ll know where to find ya, sweet cheeks.” he assured, helping you slide off of their laps. you smile and nod at him gratefully, breaking out in that nervous cold sweat you were prone to as you creep up the steps towards satoru’s room. your heart thunders in your chest, so loud in your own ears you think it may be audible to everyone else. suguru ‘awwws’ as you walk off and utahime blows you a kiss, stretched out in the recliner. she’s invested in the movie—totally into billy loomis, naturally.

you wish you could be so naive to spend your night crushing on the killer in an old horror film, but your mind is too preoccupied with the one you’re living. some comfort soothes at your heart as you enter satoru’s large personal space. it smells of his soothing sweet scent, and you melt right into his bed, looking up at the rotations of the ceiling fan. you aren’t sure how long you stare up at it, wondering what entertainment your classmates were getting out of seeing naoya’s dead body. it makes you shudder to think about it, you wish that this was some sort of nightmare. at least those weren’t real. but that can’t be, because you feel yourself fall into some kind of satoru’s scent-induced slumber.

“you know, it is pretty spooky how similar these past few deaths have been to the movie.” utahime scrunches her nose as she looks around the remaining friends. gojo nods, lips turned down in a pondering frown.

“yeah–like the disembowelment? totally creepy. awww i’m all out of beer. utahimeeeee?” he coos, shaking his bottle at her. she jiggles hers and rolls her eyes at the emptiness. she shoves out of her comfy spot on the recliner.

“you’re lucky mine’s empty, you bastard.” she chuckles, shaking her head and making her way out to the garage.

“let suguru beer-sit for me when you get back, i’m gonna go check on the princess!” he yells after her, using his own thighs to propel himself into a stand. he turns to suguru, brows raised. “she’s been so skittish lately. i’ll be right back.”

suguru takes a swallow of his room-temp beer, making a face at the taste. he finds himself alone with the movie, no choice but to watch the corny film that the current killings seem styled after—at least in costuming. he sighs.

some time must have passed by the time you blink awake. you think it’s the trees rustling in the october wind that rips you out of your brief reprieve, or maybe it’s the uncomfortable silence and stillness to gojo’s house. either way, you’re yawning—stretching out on your stomach as you remember what caused you to isolate yourself from the rest of the party in the first place. you close your eyes as if that will stop the thoughts in their tracks, but it’s no use.

the scraping up the trellis outside of satoru’s room does plenty to wipe your mind, followed by what could only be the sound of the window being opened from the outside. you push yourself up, ready to flee the bed, but his voice stops you as if he had puppeteer strings controlling your limbs. the distortion is familiar, just like it was on the phone that day.

“don’t move you little bitch, i’ll slice you to ribbons!” he cheers, boots scuffing against the floor. you’re holding your breath, still laying on your stomach, head faced away from the killer.

“wh–what do you want from me?” you gulp, clenching your jaw as his weight sinks into the bed. your hands grip satoru’s pillow as the ghostface touches your back, hand resting in between your shoulder blades. he trails one finger along your spine, stopping at the curve of your ass.

“ya mean you haven’t figured it out?” he slides his hand under your skirt, curling his finger in the waistline of your panties, pulling them out and letting them snap back against your skin. “i want that pretty pussy in exchange for another day on this spinning rock!”

you shiver, fear creeping up your veins. you feel something sharper than a finger against your back—unmistakably the point of his hunting knife. your body straightens and you gasp, his gloved hand palming at your ass. while the blade keeps you in place.

“p-please, mr. ghostface, i–i dunno what this is all about!” you breathe heavily, feeling a tingling warmth bubble in your abdomen at his touch—fear had to be crossing the wires in your brain. he uses one hand to shove up your skirt, slapping the skin, the leather covering his hand only intensifying the feeling. you squeeze your eyes shut at the pleasurable sensation–shaking your head in surprise with yourself.

“i just told ya, sugar. open up those ears and those legs. you’re gonna let me fuck you dumb if you ever wanna see outside this room again, be the good little slut i know you can be.” he pops your ass again, causing you to make a strangled sound of enjoyment. your cheeks burn, you can’t be enjoying this, the stranger that’s been terrorizing your life for the past few months—even possibly the man that killed your lover a year ago—should be the last person on the planet that causes your pussy to clamp around nothing.

you obey, spreading your legs wide enough for him to shift between. he repositions himself there on his knees, hooking his arm around to press the long blade across your delicate neck as he pulls your hips up slightly. you gasp at the sharp weapon pressed to your jugular, careful not to move or you’d slit your own throat. he giggles, using his free hand to leave the outline of his hand on your ass. your heart thrashes, blood pumping in your ears as a disgusting need burns viciously in your gut.

“that’s a good start, see. you can do it.” he kneads your ass approvingly, big hands gripping the skin so tenderly you whine out, biting your lip immediately after. his laugh is taunting, and makes the anticipation shoot up like sparklers. you’re ashamed. this is a dangerous and scary murderer, and he’s in here fucking you, you can’t deny that it makes you feel a little special—as he’s only targeting males. “ohhh you’re an even bigger skank than i thought, wow. you like it!” he licks his teeth audibly, hooking a finger around the crotch of your panties, yanking off the soiled fabric. he delights in damp juices covering his fingers as he tucks the soiled undies in the back pocket of his jeans beneath the robe. “you’ll fuck anyone won’t ya?”

you move to shake your head, feeling blade bite into the flesh beneath. you open your mouth in your defense, silenced by the feeling of his bare fingers playing around in the mess holding you at knifepoint has created. “no! that’s not true!”

he slaps your ass, sighing. “yeah? why’d you give this pretty little cunt to your married professor then? eager? desperate? did he make ya feel special?” he inquires, making your pussy grip again. the possessive lengths this murderer went through clearly spoke to your pussy if not your heart or your brain. you feel the man move around, freeing his cock if you had to guess. you ask yourself why you did fuck toji, and you decide to tell the truth. with the way things were going, he’d know if you were lying anyway.

“because i was horny and he was hot and there—and i…i guess i did feel special, he picked me.” you reply, earning a growl in return. the smack on your ass has you screaming this time, the force of it causing you to brush up against the knife a little, feeling the first layer of skin give way.

“wrong answer.” he gruffs, not as jovial sounding as before. you know what comes next. you briefly wonder what he’ll feel like, how curved or thick he’d be, and if he’d actually let you live after he’s done. he answers most of your questions rather quickly, feeling like lightning had struck you and split you open—you realize he’s shoved himself all the way in while you’re still laying on your stomach. you sputter out gargled sounds from suddenly being so full, balling up your fists in satoru’s pillow. maybe it was his scent wafting in your nose that made you horny instead of the masked man plowing your insides, holding your ass cheek apart with one hand in order to reach top speed. “little slut likes getting ruined by a psycho, huh? maybe i will keep you around after all, gripping my cock like you love it.” he giggles, laying all his body weight into the thrusts.

you’re mewling, gripping satoru’s pillow like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth. the ghostface was hitting every spot so rapidly and with so much force that you’re seeing stars. it takes everything in you not to slump forward—only the threat of imminent death keeping you awake enough.

“you keep grippin it, lil slut. dont wanna let me go?” he chuckles at the way you keep lifting up to escape the blade. “cute slut though!! and a good one. gonna give you my load for being so obedient—i guess you didn’t have much choice though!” he laughs and pulls the knife from your neck, sickening slaps of his hips into your ass sound out across the room, growing slower in pace until he stills altogether, seed flooding your insides–his tip pressing it directly to your womb. his breaths are slightly ragged as he presses your ass back together, trapping his cum tight as he pulls out of you, humming at the sight of his slimy seed sliding out of your hole and pearling up on your pretty thighs. you heard his zipper at the same time you heard a knock at the door, a voice you recognize all too well kicking the panic up again.

“y/n? i heard screaming, are you okay?” suguru asks, jiggling the handle. “everyone’s gone and i just want to make sure you’re alright. i’m coming in.”

you shake your head, turning to scream out a warning, but the ghostface clamps a hand over your mouth. suguru pushes the door open— furrowing his brows at the sight, immediately rushing forward to intervene. he grunts his displeasure, snatching your hand to yank you away from the figure.

“run y/n!” he commands, trying to shove the man away from you. you slide off the bed frantically, trying to get geto to run away with you as he and the ghostface struggle for dominance over the knife. he turns his head to look at you still standing in the room. “go, now!” he calls out, the sound of the blade making contact with his skin making the color drain from your face. his eyes widen as he looks down at the knife in his chest—while the masked murderer cackles wildly before he grabs the wooden handle. geto looks back up at you, eyes growing more and more lidded.

“yet another friend you’ve killed, little skank!” he cheers, yanking the knife out with a harrowing schlick before embedding it in him again for good measure—his form falling to the ground. the sound of geto’s body collapsing was enough to send you scrambling down the stairs in search of the only other person who could help you get away. your legs move faster than you’ve ever seen them go before, taking two steps at a time as you bound for the door.

you hear the stomps of ghostface’s boots coming after you. you shudder out your cries of anguish, trying to figure out a way to put some space between you and him—not wanting to put any merit in his promise to keep you alive. you jump over the couch, slinging the tv down and once again throwing any and all obstacles in your path. it seemed to work well enough the first time you tried it, and based off of his hiss and a subsequent thump, you know you tripped him up a little bit. you sprint towards the garage, flipping on the light and pressing the switch to raise the door—screaming in horror at what the lights reveal.

iori utahime was nearly unrecognizable, her head smashed in the refrigerator with a broken beer bottle sticking out of her chest. hot tears spring out of your eyes instantly—muttering your apologies as you dip under the opening the garage door gives you, full sprinting like your life depends on it. you’ve made it to an open field—somewhere you once felt safe now making you feel like a deer waiting to be pounced on. you keep your head on a swivel, trying to locate the black mass in the night—but it was virtually impossible.

when he comes out of your peripheral—running at you from your right side, you see him in enough time to slide under his attempt to bear hug you, turning an about face towards the house. maybe you could make it back there, make it back to geto’s body—if you could just lock the doors and windows, you should be home free. satoru was still around–luckily you didn’t find his body. you struggle to get oxygen into your system through the chilly night air—feeling it squeeze at your lungs as you desperately fight to get back to some idea of safety, running in bursts and patterns to keep the masked man guessing and confused through the tiny holes in the mask. tears still sting at your eyes as you throw yourself up the steps, making it to the door which you deadbolt instantly. you sweep the house, making sure the other doors were locked before coming back to the front—hearing the beating of the ghostface rap against the door.

“don’t lock me out sugar! we had such a good time!” he appeals, using the weighty knife handle to beat on the door some more. you grip the sides of your hair, out of breath and full blown panicking. if satoru wasn’t in the house, then you’ve locked him out, and who knows if suguru was clinging to life upstairs. noise behind you makes you wheel around to confront it—terrified that the ghostface snuck in through a window like he had earlier.

instead, a heavily injured and bloody suguru limps out of gojo’s room, gasping out your name as he tumbles down the stairs, falling all the way to your feet. you cry out and crouch to him, face contorted up with concern and horror. he motions to stand, asking you to help him do so.

“suguru! he’s outside–oh my god, are we going to die? where’s satoru? i need him to be safe too! we have to call the police—” you prattle on, doing your best to help lift his weight. he groans in pain, helping you to the best of his ability as you get him propped up against the wall. he keeps you from pulling away, holding your hand in both of his.

“we’re going to be alright, angel. i’ll call the cops.” he assured, stumbling forward—toward the door. he nods to help you calm down, a bloody hand cupping your face to have you look him in his gentle eyes. “i’m going to get us out of here.”

“don’t!! he’s gonna break it down or something—stand back, suguru! i’m scared!” you warn him as he looks out the peephole, shaking your head frantically.

“you should be.” he says, leaning against the front door, giving you a cunning smile. gentle brown eyes shift into something much more sinister—though the lust that always swims in them remains. his words rock you off kilter—you’re sure you must be so paranoid that you’re making things up now.

“wh-what?” you shake your head, furrowing your brows a bit as he lifts a bloody finger to his mouth, sucking the red digit clean with repeated swirls of his thick tongue—and making you step backward as the shock wears off. he was involved. you don’t understand how or why—but your best friend suguru geto was involved.

“shame you don’t like horror movies, y/n. maybe if you had seen scream, you’d have known what to expect. high fructose corn syrup—just like in carrie.” he hums, trailing his tongue along his hand. you shake your head, steadily backing away from him. he wasn’t hurt at all—just theatrics to get you right where he wanted you. which means satoru—

“n-no…this is impossible. you…you came to my house!” you argue, trying to find a way for it to not be true. you back straight into another hard chest—and the figure dangles your panties over your face. your veins are frozen as you turn slowly—faced with the missing satoru. he’s beaming, wiggling the fabric in his hands.

“surprise! look what we did for you, princess!” he cheers, stepping forward to make you back up—pushing you back into suguru with every calculated step. you blink rapidly, processing all that’s before your eyes. satoru and suguru? they were working as a team this whole time? a murderous, manipulative team?

“for me? what on earth are you talking about??” you shake your head incredulously, wondering how they’ve cloaked their insanity this whole time. “i–i never wanted this!” you begin to sniffle, the tears of realization starting the burn your eyes.

“no? you know how we feel about boys around our princess.” satoru hummed, shaking his head.

“after all of our years of devotion to you,” suguru shakes his head, stepping in front of you as well, leaning down to capture your vision. you avoid his eyes, too busy dealing with your racing thoughts. “you reward us by giving your virginity to a married man. what were we supposed to do about that angel?”

“how–how did you find out–”

“you’re so loud in his office, pretty girl. we know what you sound like all too well—and you had been missing a lot that semester…we put two and two and two together!” he says shrilly, devoid of the costume though the large hunting knife was still in hand.

“i…i didn’t ever get any attention from boys!!” you start to cry, the full weight of their words taking hold on you. everything was your fault after all, those haunting feelings were all true—and your best friends were the ones behind the whole scheme.

“why would you need any other attention?? are we not more than enough?” he snarls, deeply wounded that you gave your body away after he’s spent so much of his time catering to it.

you sniffle, recoiling away at his tone. geto was always so gentle and calm, but it seems like he’s finally snapped. you never thought they had any romantic intent with all their safe-guards, assuming they viewed you more like a tiny kitten that needed their protection. but it all makes sense now, their abnormal need to spend their time with you, the cuddling, the touching, even the carrying game—you were sure now that it was all about their feelings for you. geto grabs your face in one broad hand, jerking your chin up to look at him.

“you’ll look at me when i’m speaking to you. answer. are we not enough?” he demands, clenching his jaw so tight that you can see the muscles twitch.

“yes! you’re enough—i just didn’t think it was like that, boys–i didn’t think you both liked me, i–i just thought you were being nice–”

“well. there’s no more of that, slut. if we didn’t kill the other two, who knows what you would have let them do.” he snarls, squeezing your cheeks together to keep you from speaking further. satoru claps his hands, tugging you to the couch.

“it’s time we make you our final girl, sugar. aren’t you so lucky? who else would love you like us?!” he asks you, pushing you into the cushions. he holds the knife to your shoulder, pouting. “don’t make me use this on you, pretty girl. just listen to us and we’ll go from a scary movie to a happily ever after.” he hums, sitting at your side so he could keep the blade steady.

you’re reeling, brain light and heavy all at once. they did this…for you? all to show you their love and devotion? it’s too much. his words are sweet but his actions have been anything but. you shake your head. “utahime…what did she do to deserve that?” you snap, tears slipping down your cheeks, you feel bolstered with the confidence that they won’t hurt you. this elaborate scheme has all been to make you theirs, after all.

geto laughs, shaking his head as he comes over to the couch, the boner in his pants so obvious your pussy clenches involuntarily. you’re lucky your skirt has you covered enough that neither of them saw it, for you’d never hear the end of it. geto strokes himself over his pants, giving satoru some kind of direction with the nod of his head. gojo shifts you to your knees, forcing your head forward to stare at suguru as he unbuttons his pants.

“utahime was in the way.” suguru shrugs, letting his endowment slap up against his red corn syrup stained shirt. he peels that off next.

gojo scoffs. “you don’t need friends anyway, you got us!” he cheered, repositioning his digits on the back of your neck. suguru pushes some hair over his shoulder, gesturing to his cock with a simple look down.

you shake your head no, trying to fight against satoru’s hold, but he points the knife under your jaw, following the line of the bone. suguru chuckles darkly.

“this whore will fuck anything on two legs, but when it comes time to fuck the men that earned it, you wanna be shy?” he shakes his head with disappointment, “you even slutted yourself out for someone you didn’t know. what’s the problem? if he holds the knife against your neck will it make you drip again?”

the statement makes you gasp softly, the pang in your core causing you to whine in disbelief. why was this turning you on? there’s no way you should be giving in to such a crazy stunt. they’ve ruined your life, killed anyone close to or interested in you—and now they’re here to claim their due reward. and your pussy is absolutely leaking over it despite the alarms ringing in your head. the way that geto grabs a fistful of your hair to guide your face to his drooling slit has you opening your mouth to welcome him inside without any more protests, causing gojo to giggle at the sight.

“told ya she’d give in. we know her better than anyone, yeah?” he dances the knife along the side of your neck as your throat bulges with suguru’s thickness. your eyes roll back at the feeling of his fat tip hitting your uvula, keeping you from speaking anyway.

“there we go. you’re pretty when you listen, y/n.” he hums, cock jumping in your mouth. you felt better than he could’ve imagined—and nothing could recreate the mix of fear and taboo lust that you look at him with, tears dotting the corner of your vision as he guides your head in bobbing along his thick shaft. gojo just keeps your hair from falling in your face–eager to see all of you as you arch up on your knees, wiggling your pretty ass in the air. “nasty little thing. you’re just as bad as us, you know. you made us kill all these poor people—if only you listened to us and left boys alone.” suguru grunts, watching as satoru pushes your skirt up, trailing the tip of the knife over your ass cheek, careful not to slice as he peppers slaps to your other side. you whine at the feeling, pussy tightening at his teasing even though suguru filled your mouth to the brim. suguru slaps you—medium intensity, but coupled with satoru’s spanks and his dick forcing your throat apart—it had your vision darkening. you never stop sucking his cock though, and that’s what he was testing for.

“let her ride it.” he rewards you with his approval, and satoru snickers happily. suguru’s hand falls to grip your neck, loving the sounds you make when struggling to breathe. the pain is so delicious, you can feel the morale in you dying the longer they toy with you—your need to be touched outweighing your fear–transcending it into trust. you know that they love you, in their own fucked up way, so they won’t kill you. your drowsy eyes shoot open when you feel the cool wooden handle of the hunting knife nudge against your clit. gojo holds it carefully by the blade—too skilled to let it cut him even with your uncalculated movements. suguru chuckles at your reactions, letting your hair go to see how you swallow him up on your own accord. you don’t falter, not even when the handle slides around your hole, teasing you into steady rolls of your hips to find it. gojo loved this—watching you grow so needy you’d settle for fucking yourself on the weapon that slayed your professor, your lab partner, your white knight, and your best friend.

“look who’s a needy whore now. you wouldn’t ever be satisfied without us, angel.” suguru insists, watching the pleasure on your face as satoru finally lets you sink down on the handle. it’s wide, stretching you open with a slight burn—but it’s delicious friction strokes against your insides, and you were eager for anything to relieve the ache in your stomach, the way they used you but loved you mercilessly has you clamping, wetness sliding down the weapon. the guilt pushing back against the pleasure was slowly fading—losing. “oh, no, no. don’t let her cum.” suguru tsks, sliding his cock free of your mouth. you whine at the loss, rubbing at your sore jaw, feeling gojo’s hands find your waist again. he pulls you to lay in his lap, his own excitement pressing against the tight seam of his zipper. you’re careful to lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him and feeling a sense of relief—even as he pressed the blade to your neck.

“you liked this earlier, right? that’s because you’re just as fucking nasty as we are, cutie.” he snickered a little, cupping your clothed tit. suguru saddles between your legs this time, pushing your knees to your chest without pause, absolutely nothing but a feral need to claim you flashing in his eyes. he pushes your shirt up just to see all of you, “i’ve waited far too long to see these tits, angel.” he grumbles, palming at them in between squeezes from satoru’s large hands. you moan at their touches—so intense yet different and identifiable. satoru hums at the little noise, tweaking your nipple as geto parts your pussy lips. he doesn’t warn you before he sheaths himself, making you take his length all at once. your eyes widen at the feeling—so wide you don’t understand how your throat accommodated him. your back arches off the couch at the sensation, you think you can feel every vein and ridge along his length as he lets you get used to it. gojo’s enamored by the face you make, brows pinched and mouth dropped open—wide eyes flickering between them. he’s dreamed of this for so long—they would do all of this as many times as it took to have you like this now, but luckily you’re obedient. satoru cups your face with his free hand, trailing his fingers along your cheekbone in a touch reminiscent of his ghostface earlier. he’s gentler than suguru despite the blade he wields. suguru’s grip on the back of your thighs will bruise, it hurts even now—but in the type of way you want to feel forever. he’s not gentle with your pussy either, pulling his full length out, tapping your clit with his head to make you mewl. the force he uses to plow back in causes satoru to move the knife from your neck, drawing circles over your bouncing fat tits instead.

“she’s so tight, huh? think she’ll stay like that between the two of us?” gojo giggles, looking up at the pretty faces suguru himself was making. his eyes are lazily lidded, but still serpentine and focused on the sight before him. you squeeze down on his cock, and he loves that he can’t tell if it’s from fear or your returned affection.

“so tight, despite giving it up so freely. isn’t that right–our little slut?.” suguru mutters, watching the glint of the blade as satoru swirls it around your delicate skin. your eyes widen at his question, face burning at the fact that they knew. blaming them wouldn’t get you anywhere—it seems you had to own your mistake and hope that groveling can return you to your former glory, despite how you clench around him calling you a slut.

you nod, “i’m sorry! i didn’t know that you two love me, i’m sorry, suguru!” you lean up a bit to appeal to him, causing satoru to knick your skin with the blade. you moan at the slight burn, beads of blood bubbling to the small cut. satoru curses at himself, though the noise you make has his eyes narrowing at yours in intrigue. you liked it, just like you liked fucking at knifepoint earlier

“you’re a dirty little bitch.” satoru chuckles, looking up at an intoxicated suguru. his eyes were nearly blacked, pupils fully dilated. he leans over, running his fat tongue along the shallow wound, humming at the few drops of your blood that he got to taste. satoru arches a brow, fascinated by the reaction. it makes him want a taste for himself—but suguru’s still hungry for more. his thick hand steadies your jaw, his tongue licking a thick stripe up the side of your neck. you shiver at the feeling—all the feelings. the warmth threatening to spill over at the cock splitting you in half, the slight dizziness that came from the cut—how lewd and chill-inducing suguru’s tongue felt, the intense desire behind satoru’s groping. it was all consuming, and you were losing sight of yourself relatively easily—after all, you felt your safest with them. they’d never hurt their final girl.

“let’s see just how dirty, satoru…” he hums, never faltering with his hips as he moves his lips to your neck, licking and sucking spots into your skin almost romantically. you’re so undone that you even move your hips, circling to try to get closer to suguru, teetering on the line.

“oh–it feels so good, suguru..” you mumble, and satoru giggles at your blissed out face, dick throbbing in his jeans.

“i’m sure it does, pretty slut.” satoru sings to you, his normal taunting voice was layered with the sick affection he holds you in. he watches your cut pearl up with blood again, the sight so pretty to him. he’s seen plenty of blood eradicating all the threats to your happiness, but yours seemed so much better. like you were more pure than those that he’d eliminated on your behalf. he wanted to see some more—and suguru does too. satoru makes a matching cut below the accidental one, swiping his thumb over it to collect the hot crimson. you watch him, lengthening your neck to tilt your head back—eagerly following how his tongue wrapped around the slender digit to suck the tangy taste off.

the opening you give suguru is so delicious he can’t repress his chuckle as he picks the perfect spot between your neck and shoulder. he bites down and you can feel his canines pierce the skin deep, screaming out at the painful bliss. your red blood covers their white teeth, leaking out of their pink lips. suguru looks like a vampire instead of a masked murderer with his chin dyed burgundy, satoru’s tongue darting out to collect the remnants on his own mouth before he leaned up–grabbing suguru’s jaw so he could lap up the stain, letting your blood mingle together on each other’s tongues as they wrestle together. gojo holds the knife carefully away from suguru’s head as he puts his other hand on his face, the two clearly just as into each other as they were you—a fact that was terrifying and insanely hot at the same time. you shudder—feeling your heartbeat echo through the cuts and your bite, pussy throbbing around suguru. he breaks away from satoru—yanking him back by a fistful of his white hair.

“our little bitch thinks it’s time for her to cum.” suguru sighs, and satoru grins down at you with a mix of blood and saliva dribbling from the corner of his mouth. satoru shakes his head.

“but i haven’t even touched her!” he protests, pouting down at you. it makes you feel a pang of guilt in your stomach—but not because you were fucking two serial killers, no–because you hadn’t given one of them enough attention.

“you did take her earlier—without permission.” suguru growled a bit and looks over your slightly bloodied chest and fucked out face. he knows exactly what will perk you back up and get satoru back in line. he releases his hold on his hair and slips out of your sopping folds, moving to slip the knife from satoru’s grasp while taking your chin in his other hand. he nods satoru to you. “prep her ass—i wonder if she ever let the professor in there. wait no…i’m sure he only fucked your ass.” he gently pulls on you, prompting you to get back to your hands and knees, facing him. he strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, tilting your chin up with the blade to look at him.

the intense knowing in his eyes makes a shudder trill down your spine—and your pussy clench. how did he know that? knowing about the affair—hearing it—was one thing. but how did they know the intimate details outside of…being there. the puzzle pieces click into place and suguru can see it in the way your eyes widen. he chuckles, nodding to confirm your fears while satoru jiggles your fat ass cheeks in his hands. he’s admiring the recoil, the leaking pussy he had to spread your ass to see—it was all such a wonderful and worthy reward for him.

“you think we’d miss a show like that? tsk tsk.” he pouts, keeping you engaged so satoru could warm you up on the other end. “professor fushiguro didn’t want any more children? how sad.” he teases slightly, running the knife over your plush lips, watching the way your skin gives in to the metal, bouncing back up as he moves it to a new spot. satoru gathers the arousal pooling down your thighs, adding his spit to the nasty mix on his fingers. you gasp softly, feeling his digits prod around your puckered entrance. “could have made a pretty little thing like you his baby mama? hm. maybe if he’d been smarter about it, his existing son wouldn’t be fatherless. though that’s on you too—”

you whimper, shaking your head. “n–no, don’t say that!” you protest, feeling the humanity in you lash out at the statement.

“why? hard truth? don’t worry princess—we’ll give you plenty of kids. you won’t be left wanting, poor thing.” satoru pouts with you, giving you the first finger down to the knuckle. you squeeze around it, any combativeness dying right back down as the brain fog returns. he’s slowly thrusting it, letting you rock your hips back for more, the unrelenting need in your gut yet to be satisfied under geto’s punishments.

“and your kids will have two fathers just to keep you extra safe. can’t you see? we’re the only ones who can protect you and make you happy.” geto implores, stroking your cheeks and watching your reaction to satoru’s second finger, tucking his lip between his teeth.

“oh she already knows that, sugu. c’mon sugar. tell him.” he encourages, defending you in his own way. he scissors his fingers in your ass, giggling at the wet squelch that accompanies his movements. “you’ll be so happy–just tell him, princess.” he appeals, your brain mushy with the feeling of their hands on you and their promises swimming around your brain. they have protected you from so much over the years, between your average bullies and boys that truly crossed the line back in high school—you know that in their own deluded way, they’re right.

“you guys are the only ones that make me happy!! i feel so safe here–i know you won’t hurt me.” you whine, nodding. it appeals to both of their hearts–the sultry call of your voice had them eager to fill all your holes.

“oh we’ll hurt you, slutty princess.” satoru hums, sliding his fingers out of your choking ass. he repositions you, hands fitting into the handles of your waist to right you in his lap, angling his proud length at your hole. “see, this will hurt a bunch! but you’ll love it.” he assures, pulling you down on him a few inches at a time. you scream out, looking up at geto for rescue. he only steps in front of you–fisting his own cock in the angle he needs it. your eyes widen when you realize that they plan to fuck you at the same time—and they don’t have the decency to let you get accustomed to one before giving you the other.

gojo hisses, your ass was still so tight despite all his hard work, though the amounts of spit and your own slick he slathered around were making it easy to sink into you. as soon as you hit the hilt of his dick—absolutely shaking from the pressure in your ass, suguru’s nudging your pussy lips apart to bully you some more.

“you can take us both—you’re a slut, remember? you can do it for us.” suguru reminds you tenderly, holding your face as they get used to the feeling of you and each other through the thin wall of tissue that keeps them apart. you sputter, grabbing onto suguru’s shoulders in an effort to not fall over. satoru uses his hold on your waist to propel you to move, making geto’s work minimal. the pace he sets is brutal, picking you up and slamming you back down while suguru just rocks his hips to add to the sensation of two cocks fucking you open.

if you thought either of them were big and splitting earlier, then this was what you got in return. white hot pain and pleasure courses through your veins, replacing the fear and unease that has been haunting you for days. they were taking care of you, and if you didn’t have to fear their wrath—why wouldn’t you squeeze their cocks, scream for them, and make them feel just as loved?

this is what they deserve, what their hard work has earned them: your silken walls being beaten into the shapes of their dicks and nothing else—your tits and ass bouncing with the impact of their brutal thrusts sending you back and forth like a tug of war.

“it’s too much!” you cry out, feeling the heat in your stomach burn as bright as a star–you felt like you were on fire. pleasure tingled up your veins, the gummy spots of your cunt being abused perfectly by suguru’s thick cock—your insides being rearranged by gojo’s unrelenting brutality, despite his sweeter speech.

“d’awh, no it’s not. look at you—you’re doing it.” he encourages, putting his lips to your neck. “you’re takin’ it so good.”

“squeezing us even. stop lying–you want even more.” suguru huffs, grabbing your throat. you sputter a little, erotic moans turning higher in pitch. he chuckles at his prediction—cock twitching in your walls.

“toomuchtoomuch—need to cum, please, please boys—wanna cum all over you!” you plead for yourself, though it’s not exactly a performance. they were fucking you mindless, and at this point you would do whatever it took to have them—even lying to the police about what happened here tonight.

“aw sugu, listen to her. i wanna see it, let her cum.” satoru adds on your behalf, balancing his chin on your shoulder. he bats those crystal blues at suguru, knowing he surely can’t deny you both—and he won’t.

“tell us you love us, angel. tell us who fucks you so good, then you can cum.” he grunts, laying his hands over satoru’s to feel you move your hips on them both, fucking into geto just to throw your ass back on satoru—it’s so fucking good.

his demand isn’t even a challenge—you’ve succumbed to their desires for you some time ago, accepting their brutal form of love as the one that you’re deserving of—men who would kill for you. what more could you ever want?

“i love you, fuck—i love you both so much! i always have–i always have, you’re my boys!” you pant, your voice begging plead. “you fuck me so good–let me cum to show you, please–suguru!! satoru!!” you cry their names so sweetly that satoru can’t hold himself back anymore—hot cum fills your ass before you even finish saying it. he’s shuddering, nodding to give you his permission, though you wait for suguru too.

he leans forward—jerking your chin up into a proper kiss with him, gnashing on your lips and giving you a taste of his tongue. he holds your face still as he pulls away, nodding. “cum, angel. you’ve been so fucking good.” he drawls in your ear, giving satoru a rewarding kiss too as your hips spasm under his command. it strokes his ego, the way you scream and jerk as your orgasm overtakes you—the ones he’s denied you factoring into the toe-curling sensation of this one. he follows after you—his hot seed spurting out in bursts, so so much cum. it’s clear suguru and satoru have planned this for some time—and now that delights you instead of invoking the fear it should, if you were normal.

satoru rubs at your shoulders, pulling away from suguru’s lips with a loud smack. you can feel your heart pounding—hearing it in your ears as they turn to you—cocks still plugging you full. “now princess…” he hums as suguru picks you up off of him. he looks so pretty, you think, his skin slightly red from excitement—blue eyes wild with adrenaline. “we’re gonna get you cleaned up—and then it’s your turn to attack.” he giggles, making you snap your tired head up to suguru who holds you like a baby.

“the police. we have to be believable survivors after all. didn’t you watch any horror movie, y/n?” he shakes his head, a fond grin on his face as he takes you to the kitchen, sitting you on the counter for satoru to wipe down. gojo kneels between your legs to clean you carefully as suguru tucks the knife into your hands.

“aim for the stomach. you’ve got our hearts already.” suguru smirks, dialing 911.

2K notes · View notes

raya-hunter01 · 7 months ago

Text

Not My Sister's Keeper Pt. 11

Not My Sister’s Keeper

Roman X OC(Kara)

Jey Uso X OC (Tia)

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, couple arguing, Jealousy, infidelity, pregnancy

Roamn’s wife recently left medical school and returned home to save her marriage. Upon her return, she finds out things are not what they seem. Her sister is pregnant by her best friend Jey Uso, who is also Roman’s cousin, and her husband is acting suspicious.

What happens when a conversation overhead on a baby monitor blows her world apart?

Pensacola, FL

Kara’s POV

After my requested Jey didn’t say anything. I could tell he was not expecting that, but I needed to tell my dad what was going on. He deserved to know and not by a phone call or seeing it on the news.

“Are you sure?”

“Not really, but I know it’s what I need to do.”

“Then I’ll take you.”

The next thing I knew, we were back on the highway heading to my parents.

I felt overwhelmed, as so many things I had long buried, flooded back to the surface.

“I remembered my mother having that man in my dads house,” I said so quietly that Jey almost didn’t catch it.

“What? While you were there?” Jey asked in disbelief as I nodded almost playing everything over in my mind.

“He was so devastated, and angry when he found out Tia was his. In remembering it now, all I can think about is how almost the same thing almost happened to us, Jey.”

“But it didn’t lau pele, you found out before it was too late.” Jey said kissing my hand.

I didn’t say anything else, my mind was too busy trying to play catch up, and wondering how I was going to react when I saw my mother.

I wanted to be calm, but I felt my anger rising as we pulled into my childhood home, remembering all the lies.

The realization that the hell I went through with Tia all my life, my mother allowed her to do it because she needed Tia to keep her secret. It all made sense as to why she defended her always.

Tia knew about Terry and could blow her world upside down, but hurricane Kara was coming.

----

Kara’s Parent’s House

Jey’s POV

It knew this was going to be bad….Fuck, I knew it was and I couldn’t stop it. I promised I wouldn’t say anything and to only get involved if things went too far. I followed closely behind Kara as she knocks on the front door getting no answer.

“Maybe we should just come back in the morning? It is late baby.”

“The hell we are,” Kara said using her key to open the door and walking inside. “Dad! Where are you?!”

Yea….This was gon’ be bad.

“What is wrong with you coming up in here screamin’?” Rebecca said coming downstairs as Kara stormed into the living room.

“Your what’s wrong, Dad!” Kara yelled as her mother tried to shush her. “Be quiet he’s upstairs trying to unwind, what’s got you all upset stormin’ through here like a tornado?”

“Terry Kendall, the bastard you had layin’ up in my daddy’s bed…. You know Tia’s daddy… Dad!!!” Kara screamed walking away from Rebecca who stumbled back a few steps in shock.

“Wait..Wait don’t do this Kara, don’t hurt him. Kara, please.” Rebecca cried as Kara waved her off unfazed by her tears.

“Like you’ve been hurting him?” Kara asked picking up and throwing their family portrait that had been hanging over the mantel. “What the hell are you doing?!” Rebecca screamed dodging the flying portrait before it landed at her feet.

“Lies…Just lies..All of this shit is lies!” Kara yelled turning back to the mantel knocking every framed picture off the mantel. Grunting in anger and frustration as one by one they crashed to the floor, glass shattering everywhere.

“Kara! Calm down and let me explain. Don’t tell him, please,” Rebecca begged as I saw Bill at the top of the stairs.

“What the hell ya’ll got going on down here?” Bill asked jogging down the stairs as Rebecca blocked Kara from walking towards him by grabbing her arm.

“Get yo’ hands off me,” Kara hissed as I jumped in between them. I knew what was about to come next if I didn’t get Kara. Rebecca was about to meet a different side of her daughter.

“Aye, she came to talk to her dad. Now let her talk and don’t touch her,” I warned as she took a step back.

“Talk to me about what?…….What’s wrong baby?” Bill asked as Rebecca grabbed his hand, pulling him into a hug as Kara looked at me not believing the gall of her mother.

“It’s nothing baby go back upstairs, and I’ll be up in a minute. Kara’s still upset about tonight and I was trying to calm her down.” Rebecca said, as Kara scoffed.

Oh, she really gon’ hold on to the lie until the very end. Yea, Tia gets it honestly.

“Tell him mama, and I mean all of it.” Kara demanded as Bill pulled away from Rebecca as she tried to hold on to him for dear life.

“Don’t do this Kara, just leave with Josh, go home.” Her mother pleaded.

“I ain’t doing nothing! I’m actually giving you a chance to tell him the truth because Tia decided to let her therapist in on your little secret and they reported it!” Kara yelled as Rebecca gasped shaking her head.

“Told what secret? Anybody gon’ tell me what the hell going on?”

“No, Tia didn’t…She wouldn’t.”

“Oh, yes, she did and I’m sure by the end of the week it will be all over the news. So, you betta get to talking.”

“Since she won’t tell me, you tell me,” Bill said gently pulling Kara towards him.

“Dad-”

“Bill don’t do listen, it’s nothing baby,” Rebecca said trying to pull Bill back towards the stairs.

“I tried to talk to you, but you obvious hidin’ something so now I’m talkin’ to my daughter,” Bill hissed snatching away from Rebecca as she tried to stop Kara from revealing her secret.

“The judge that was in charge of the trial is Tia’s biological father. Mama has been lying to you all these years, Tia isn’t your daughter,” Kara blurted out as Rebecca reached over to slap her, but I stepped in front of her catching her hand.

“Jey, let her do it! I been on pause, cause she my mama but she can get it, let her go! Let her do it!” Kara screamed as I grabbed her, trying to create some distance between them.

“Aye, you ain’t fightin’ and you betta keep yo’ hand to yourself before I let her go.” I warned Rebecca.

“She had no right, Josh!” Rebecca screamed as Bill seemed to be in shock. I couldn’t blame him, everything he has known to be true was a lie.

“I had no right?! You really trying to make me the bad guy in your bullshit!”

“You had no right Kara!”

“No! You had no right lyin’ to us all these years. You had no right sleepin’ wit that man in the bed you shared with your husband.”

“Ah, shit,” I mumbled knowing it was about to get worse.

“And you damn sure had no right going to him to get the charges against Tia reduced.” Kara said unfazed by her mother’s hysterics.”

“Wait? You had this motherfucker in this house, layin’ in my bed?!” Bill’s voice boomed as Rebecca continued to sob, not believing everything was crashing down around her.

“I-I-”

“Stop stuttering and tell me!” Bill shouted making Rebecca jump back in fear.

“Yea, mama, tell him…. Tell him how you wouldn’t let me and Tia in the house when he would come around so ya’ll could have sex.” Kara said casually as her mother paled at the revelation.

“Kara,” I warned seeing the look of anger on her dad’s face growing. He was about to lose his shit and I couldn’t blame him.

“Rebecca! Talk damn it!” Bill yelled as Rebecca collapsed to her knees grabbing his leg.

“Ok! Ok! I admit it! Everything she said is true!” She sobbed as Bill looked down at her in disgust.

Kara’s POV

I told her and I feel bad for causing my dad pain, but he needed to know. He needed to know, there were too many damn secrets around here. No wonder we were all so fucked up.

“I loved ya’ll so much, and didn’t want to lose you Bill,” my mother cried as I rubbed my temples.

“You really did me like this Becks…Me…. Tell me this a joke,” My dad whispered looking at me for answers.

“Dad, they have a DNA results and records of mama taking money from him. It’s real, Mr. Reiner called and told me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, she’s been lying to you and whatever you do with that information is on your choice, but I had to tell you.”

“Bill, I’m so sorry, Tia’s still your daughter. You raised her and she loves you, please understand,” my mother pleaded.

“I guess it’s finally your time to reap what you sowed, huh.” My dad said. His anger boiling at the surface.

“Bill-”

“Tia round here leaving chaos in her wake, leaving you with a child to help raise cause’ she has no mama. Donavan never comes to visit, Kara almost died!! Our daughter almost died at the hands of her sister, who is now in Jail!”

“I love you so much bill and our kids. I’m so sorry-”

“No, you don’t, you had plenty of time to tell me about Tia, but you didn’t. Then you went and ask his bitch ass to help Tia after she almost killed my child….My CHILD! Not yours, MINE!”

“She’s our child Bill, they both are. I swear I never meant to hurt ya’ll. I just couldn’t let her tell anyone!”

"Whatever was necessary to keep your secret, right? Get up off the floor beggin’ like a dog……. Your just as evil as Tia is, matter fact you worse,” my dad said calmy walking towards the stairs as my mother picked herself up off the floor running behind him.

“Don’t walk away from me!” she screamed, jumping in front of him, pulling on his shirt trying to stop him from walking away.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” My dad yelled pulling away from her. “Woman, you gon’ make me hurt you! Is that what you want me to do!” his hands suddenly wrapped around her throat.

“Dad, No!” I screamed as Jey rushed over to them, pulling my mother behind him as she caught her breath.

“Aye! Calm down, go get your stuff. Bill it ain’t worth it,” Jey said walking with my dad upstairs.

“Bill, where are you going?!”

“Away from you before I hurt you, and I end up in jail. Sitting up here defending Tia and she really pulled a you on Kara, Roman, and Jey. You make me sick!”

"Dad-"

“I’mma make sure he straight before we leave, don't worry,” Jey said as I headed towards the front door to wait for him in shock. I can’t believe he choked her, but at the same time couldn’t blame him.

Hell, I wouldn’t mind a round or too myself, but I know she’s my mom.

“So, your just gonna leave……I’m still your mother Kara, and I love you.” Her desperate voice almost broke me, but I refused to look at her or give in.

“I love you too, that’s why this hurts so bad mama.” Finally embracing the hurt I allowed my unshed tears to fall.

“We can fix it baby…Just let me, I can’t lose you too.”

“You know what’s so sad mama? You’ve already lost me, and I don’t think we can ever find our way back.” I whispered as Jey and my father came back downstairs.

“You’ll hear from my attorney,” my father said not giving my mother a second glance storming out the house.

“Will you be alright?” Jey asked my mother as she sighed.

“I ain’t got no choice but to be?” And with that she went upstairs as Jey put his arms around me.

In that moment, I knew I still loved her. She was my mother, but I couldn’t just forgive her, too much damage had been done.

“Let’s go home lau pele .”

“Ok.”

Maybe time would heal some wounds and we could try to move forward, but for right now I was going to focus on my own life.

------

Three Weeks Later

Hilton Garden Inn, Atlanta, Ga

Jey’s POV

I hated I had to leave Kara and come back to work but she insisted. I tried to call her earlier and we talked a little. She had gone to court today and told me they interviewed her as she left.

Pulling out my iPad I went to the Boston news station’s website.

The headlines were everywhere about the corrupt judge that wanted to save the daughter he never knew. Well, that was the narrative Terry was painting in order to protect Rebecca who had still been trying to contact Kara, but the line of communication was radio silent.

“Damn finally,” I muttered finding the video.

“This is WCVB Channel five news and we’re outside the courtroom where last week not only was corruption exposed but deep family secrets. Local judge Terry Kendall resigned last week after it was brought to light, he showed bias in a court case in which his love child committed a crime against her own sister and said sister’s ex-husband. Terry Kendal’s heart felt apology to Kara Morris was one that moved the courtroom to tears.”

“Should have had jail time too, corrupt ass,” I hissed.

“Judge Kendall, though resigning from his position of power last week was informed today he would be disbarred. Mr. Kendall stated in court today he worked alone and did it on his own accord. The case will now be appointed a new judge and Tia Morris with be resentenced. The new resentencing date can be anywhere up to a year from now, but the defendant will receive credit for time served. Let’s see if we can get a word with Ms. Morris.”

“A'ight, you had better kept they ass in line Reiner.” I mumbled looking at him and Kara coming down the courthouse steps.

“Ok, my client will answer a few questions and we ask after this that you respect her privacy.”

“Ms. Morris how are you feeling after today’s outcome?”

“I am grateful that Mr. Kendall stepped up and took responsibility for his actions. I hope he finds peace and his family is ok. I know first-hand what secrets can do to a family.”

I felt proud watching her stand on her own and answer their questions without hesitation.

“Speaking of that, how do you feel knowing your sister’s resentencing and the finding of a new judge could take up to a year?”

“Uh, knowing that a new judge will be appointed, and the resentencing will happen, I am thankful. I will be patient and respect the process. Thank you to the city of Boston for ensuring me justice will indeed be served.”

I knew that voice anywhere, it was her customer service annoyed voice. Chuckling, I continued to watch.

“Have you spoked to your mother since you found out that you and your sister don’t share the same father?” The forced smile on her face making me angry. They just had to fucking go there but before she could respond Riener stepped in.

“No comment, my client has been through enough and has answered your questions pertaining to this case. Her personal life is off limits and with that we bid you all good day,” Mr. Reiner said walking Kara through the crowd of paparazzi.

“Assholes, I can’t believe they ass,” I grumbled. I don’t ask for much, but the one thing I hoped was Kara wouldn’t have to wait a year for justice to be served. If we had to wait, we would but I hoped it would be sooner.

Pulling out my phone I tried to call her but got no answer seeing the time I knew she probably fell asleep, especially after today.

“Hey, just wanted to hear your voice, you did so good during your interview. I love you and I’ll call you in the mor-.”

A sudden knock at the door startled me as I ended my voicemail. Who the hell is it at one in the morning?

“Who is it?!”

“Room service, I have your champagne,” a high pitch voice said as I rolled my eyes walking to the door.

“Aye, I ain’t ordered no room service, plus it closes at ten. So, you can gon’ on shawty and take your champagne wit you.” I said as the person on the other side of the door chuckled.

“Ok, I can just go get a return flight back to Boston then, sir.”

“Kara? ” I asked opening the door as she laughed at me. “Yes, Kara,” she said holding up a bottle of champagne.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, scooping her up in my arms and closing the door.

“I wanted to tell you in person how proud of you I am, and how much I missed you,” she whispered against my lips.

“I missed you too,” I whispered feeling the stress of the last few days melting away.

“You seem so down, what’s wrong?” Kara asked. I hated to tell her I actually didn’t make the finals of the King of the ring tournament.

“I love you for supporting me baby, but they decided to go another way with the tournament,” I said as she caressed my face.

“Well, you won in my book and your fans think the same thing too. Just hang in there doody and trust the journey.” she said making me smile. She hadn’t called me that since we were kids.

“I’m tryin’ baby, I’m really trying,” I said trying to remain positive. “Just be your amazing self and everything will fall in place.”

“I can’t believe you’re here.” I smiled against her neck holding her close, almost afraid she’d disappear.

“It’s no other place I’d rather be.”

The frustrations of work are long forgotten, Tia, Rebecca, and all the other drama, just a distant memory.

All that existed was us and that was all I needed. Kara was right, my time would come, and I should enjoy the journey.

Matter of fact we were going to enjoy this journey together.

----

One Year Later

Kara’s House

Kara’s POV

“Kara did you get any sleep? You tossed and turned all night.”

“I got a little, I’ll sleep when this over today.”

“Least we can rest after court, mama said she was going to cook for us tonight,” Jey said as I nodded erasing the line I just typed.

I was trying to finish my victim statement to read in court today, but I just felt like it wasn’t coming together.

“Bae, you heard me? Jey asked as I popped my fingers and yawned.

“Ugh, this is so dumb, who comes up with this shit. I can’t think and I’m just over it. I might not even give a statement.” I ranted as Jey leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips before taking my laptop.

“Let me see what’s got so far, you stressin’. I told you last night I would help.”

“I didn’t want to bother you with this, you had the show and got in late,” I said as he read what I had written so far.

“Bae, I already know the problem. You trying to sugar coat this shit instead of being you and telling the ugly truth. Tell them and Tia how you feel.”

“If I do that, I will be up there talking all damn day, Jey.”

“So, what, it’s your truth and you need to talk about it.”

“Joshua is right sweetheart,” Mama Fatu said coming into the kitchen and sitting beside me.

“Did you sleep good Ma?” I asked as she smiled holding my hand.

“Like a log, I needed that after the long flight but enough about me. How are you?” she asked as I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’m fine,” I whispered as Jey kissed his teeth, somewhat annoyed at my dismissal of my feelings.

“She’s tired and stressed out over this victim statement.”

“Kara, you shouldn’t type it, just go in there today and just speak from the heart.”

“I didn’t want to miss anything, so I wanted to type it up and print it Ma.”

“Kara, trust yourself, you got it,” Jey assured me as I tried to shake my nerves.

“Well court is in two hours, so I kind of have no choice now,” I said starting to finally eat.

“Did you talk to your dad?” Jey asked as I smiled.

“Yea, I was on the phone with him while he was at the doctor’s yesterday. The splint is healing fine, but he can’t travel right now.”

“I’m glad he’s doing better, and I know he will be doing even better when he gets this good news today.” Mama Fatu said putting her arms around me in a comforting hug, speaking positivity into the atmosphere.

“Thanks, Ma.”

Ugh, I knew I needed to get started, but I dreaded today because I knew today was going to be a long ass day.

You got this Kara…. Today all of this ends, go in there and do what you gotta do.

----

A Few Hours Later

Boston Municipal Courthouse.

Rebecca’s POV

I had to be here today for Kara and Tia both. Maybe I could finally talk to Kara and try to get us back on the right track or at least start talking again.

“I could say I'm shocked you're showing your face here, but then again I know you so I’m not surprised, Rebecca.”

What the hell is Josh’s mom doing here? Still trying to swoop in on my baby, I see. She ain’t gon’ rest till my baby is a Fatu and callin’ her Mama.

“Tani don’t start, I saw you swarming around my daughter in there, probably got her calling you Ma n shit too. Just acting like I don’t exist, Josh, up in there acting like her bodygu-”

“Keep my son’s name out your mouth and news flash Rebecca, she has always called me Ma! Where did you think she was going when she would storm outta your house upset damn near four times a week? My house, that’s where.”

“What am I supposed to be impressed because I’m not Tani.”

“No, you’re supposed to care and realize that you were a piece of shit parent and try to make it right.”

“You bitch.” I hissed as Tani chuckled.

“Now let’s not call each other names you gutta snipe.”

“Ugh, look, I ain’t here to fight, I’m just here trying to make it right and be here for Kara. Show her that I am trying, I’m not even gonna bother her.”

“All I know is you better not make today hard for Kara or you’re going to have a problem with me.”

“You know what? Bye, Tani…It was good to remember why I don’t talk to you.” I said pissed off at the fact she even approached me.

“You hurt Kara and I’mma reintroduce myself to you like I did all those years ago.” Tani gloated.

“Ugh, whatever,” I hissed leaving her in the bathroom alone.

I needed to get back inside the courtroom, Kara was giving her statement.

Jey’s POV

Kara was doing great speaking to the court even at times looking at Tia who was having a hard time looking Kara in the eye. Feeling my mother’s hand on my shoulder, I moved to let get her by so she could sit down.

“My sister shot me in the back and tried to kill me. Tia, you hated me that much, you went from wanting to be me, to killing me.”

I cringed at her use of her words, but she was right. I can still see her lying there lifeless and being scared to death as the EMT worked on her.

I am forever indebted to him because he never gave up and he brought her back to me.

“I say killing me because I stopped breathing…..I stop breathing Tia….. I died as you laughed and taunted Josh to hurt him.” Her voice full of pain as the nodded, somewhat dazing out.

“My lord Joshua.”

“Mama, it’s ok,” I told her as looked at Tia in shock.

“Ms. Morris do you need a moment?” Judge Carlton asked, picking up on the change in her demeanor.

“No, I’m fine.” Clearing her throat, and glancing back at me. “You got this,” I mouthed pointing at her as she nodded before turning back to face the judge.

“Listening to the joy in your voice as I received medical attention is disgusting and it really drove home two important things for me. You have no concept of consequences or empathy. And your actions have left unforgivable scars, and a beautiful child without a mother.”

“Uh-huh, tell her bout herself,” I muttered filled with pride. She had found her voice and was finally telling Tia and everyone how she felt.

“Your father has owned up to his wrongdoings and took the consequences, which was him being disbarred. Now it’s your turn and I pray justice is swift and befitting of the crimes you committed against Me, Jey, Roman, Trin, and most importantly Logan because she didn’t ask to be here or to be a pawn in your games.”

“Real swift at that, needs life in prison if you ask me,” Trin whispered as I looked back at Rebecca who was in tears.

“Tia, I hope you find peace because I have, and I forgive you. I just can’t forget that because of you I almost lost my life, I lost my mother, and I lost you, my sister.”

Rebecca, sobbing in the back of the courtroom was irking me to no end.

“I know that it doesn’t matter either way to you, so I’m ending this by letting you know that I wish you well, but it’s my time to take back control of my life.”

She had done it.... She spoke from her heart and conquered her fear.

“That woman got the nerve to sit on this side of the courtroom after all she’s done. She’s just as guilty as her daughter, now back there fake crying,” my mother hissed lowly glancing back Rebecca.

“Order in the court please we don’t need any whispers, I know it's been a long day but we are almost done,” Judge Carlton said as my mother zipped her lip and held up her finger.

“Not you confessing it was you with the church finger, Ma. That judge didn’t even know who did it. I got to teach you betta,” Trin chuckled as I joined in.

I love my folks, we gon’ clown at the craziest time.

“Chill ya’ll,” Roman whispered as my mother scoffed. “Boy, I’m grown and since we talkin’ you shoulda’ kept your lil peta in ya’ pants. Still pisses me off that you did that to Kara and you lucky she’s being cordial to you.”

“You did so good baby,” I told Kara giving her a hug.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Thank you, Ms. Morris, for sharing. This case, though not easy, should have never gotten this bad but I pray you all find peace as justice is served. Will that being said will the defendant please rise.”

Kara’s POV

It was like everything was moving in slow motion as the judge reviewed the charges and talked about the video evidence, he had reviewed. We had traveled this road before, but I knew a better outcome was on the horizon this time.

“Tia Morris I am hereby sentencing you to thirty-five years at the Boston’s Women’s prison with the possibility of parole in twenty-five years. Your no contact order with your sister Kara Morris will also still be in place.

“Thank god,” I sighed, happy it was finally over as my mother and Tia’s cries filled the courtroom.

“No….No, it can’t be!” Tia cried as Judge Carlton banged on his gavel.

“Order in this court room! Young lady, I already find your behavior sickening as is and I’m not going to deal with your clown behavior. Get yourself together and I mean now.”

“My client is just a little upset your honor,” her lawyer said as Judge Carlton rolled shook his head. “Well, it’s about time your client realizes actions have consequences.”

“I’m sorry for that your honor,” Tia said as her lawyer shook his head in embarrassment.

“He told her ass off,” Jimmy said with a smirk as Ma Fatu hit him on the knee. “Why you talkin’ so loud, and watch your mouth,” she scolded as Trin shook her head.

“Ma, you just did the same thing.”

“We as parents have to wake up and teach our children right from wrong. Correct them, and don’t put ourselves in situations that can alter not only their lives but those they come in contact with.”

“You said a word then,” I said agreeing with the judge from firsthand experience.

“Your secrets become their secrets. Their hurt from your secrets is projected upon others, ensuring chaos to follow. What is done in the dark will always come to light. So, take responsibility, be a parent and think before indulging in your desires. This court is adjourned.”

“That’s it?” I asked looking at Jey as he smiled. “That’s it baby.” His confirmation releasing a huge weight off of my shoulders as I saw my mother walk towards Tia but stopped herself and walked out the courtroom.

“Well, that was interesting,” Trin said as I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know what it was, but I ain’t got time for it Trin. I’m just tired.”

It was over….It was finally over, and I could finally breathe.

Whatever my mama had going on it didn’t concern me, it’s my time to live my life now.

Next step…. Graduation and deciding where I’m going to do my residency.

Rebecca’s POV

“Tia, I’m sorry sweetie.”

“It’s fine, we’ll just go with the plan, in trying to get me transferred to Pensacola so you won’t have to travel far, and maybe I can see Logan.” Tia said as I looked at her in shock.

Now she wanted to see Logan…What was bringing on this new attitude?

“It’s a good possibility your attorney can get it done under compassionate reasons. Hopefully, he can get it approved and get you back to Florida.

"That’s all I want mama, to be close to you and Logan. You and Logan are all I have left. I will sign over my rights to Roman if he agrees to let you bring Logan to see me. The prison in Pensacola has a family center inside and it looks very welcoming so Logan wouldn’t be scared to come visit.”

“Well, I am glad you are finally getting it together baby. I will get with your lawyer and see what we can get done.”

“Thanks, mama…I promise I won’t mess this one up.”

I wanted to believe her, but I had a nagging feeling this was going to end bad.

“I know you won’t baby…Just hold on and we’ll get you back to Pensacola.”

I hope this doesn't blow up in my damn face.

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absurdthirst · 1 year ago

Text

High Infidelity {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.1k

Warnings: Cheating, fraud, mentions of divorce, payback, forced cuckolding, restraints, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, revenge sex

Comments: When you find out that your husband is banging the neighbor's wife, you and the neighbor decide to make them pay.

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The moment was bittersweet, finding out that your suspicions were correct and that he could no longer gaslight you was a temporary feeling of relief. Quickly replaced with hurt and devastation. He was your childhood sweetheart, your first and only love, and for the better part of a year he has been sleeping with the woman next door.

The same woman whose kids you babysat during the week to let her and her husband have a peaceful date night, the same woman who had sat in your kitchen a few nights earlier with a group a mutual friends and drank your wine, the same woman who had held your hand and reassured you the night that you found out your husband wasn’t able to have children.

Rewatching the footage of them kissing as they entered the bedroom you shared, him ripping off her dress as she unbuttoned his shirt made your heart lurch. Never would you have imagined it was with Carol York.

The signs he was cheating were there from day one; being overprotective of his phone, working late, charges on your joint account that just weren’t adding up and then the biggest cliche of all; lipstick on his collar.

The urge to confront him was bubbling up in your stomach, and then you thought about Dave… Did he know? Did he suspect anything? Should you tell him?

After going back and forth a few times you had settled on yes, he deserves to know. So you pick up your laptop, and slide in under your arm. Ready to go next door and tell him everything.

****

Rolling his eyes after the doorbell peels, Dave sighs and stands up from the kitchen table. His laptop open and report that was making his head throb was never fun but distractions just makes it harder to get back to work. Especially since the house is actually quiet with the girls at school and Carol at work. Moving towards the door, he opens it to find you, his next door neighbor waiting. He hums your name in surprise and wonders if something is wrong. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you reply with a weak smile, “I’m really sorry to interrupt whatever it is that you’re doing, but we need to talk.”

“Everything alright?” Your face is filled with concern and he’s immediately on guard, eyes sliding behind you and not seeing anything that would have him reaching for the pistol kept in the entryway table.

“Honestly, no,” you admit with an uncomfortable laugh, “Can I come in? I don’t think it’s something I should tell you standing at your door.”

Frowning, Dave stands back and lets you in the house. He normally doesn’t like having someone - especially female - at the house when Carol isn’t here. Busybodies talk and he hates that kind of shit. “What’s going on?” He asks as he closes the door.

“Thank you,” you say as you walk into the kitchen and settle your laptop on the counter. “Look, I’m so sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but you deserve to know, and I’ve bought this here as evidence. I don’t have to show you it but I thought bringing proof was the best way to handle it... Carol and Tommy are having an affair.”

The first instinct he has is to deny it. To question why you are telling him something that he knows isn’t true, but he doesn’t. There’ve been times where something doesn’t sit right with Dave. Carol’s ease of assuring him that Tommy will handle something while he’s out of town. “What evidence?” He demands, knowing the best thing is to hear you out. If it’s flimsy, he can start watching his wife’s actions. If it’s concrete proof, he will know.

“It’s a video,” you say as you open your laptop, “I’ve been suspicious for a while, and then I found underwear that definitely doesn’t belong to me. So I bought a nanny cam. Are you sure you want to see this?”

“Shit.” Dave hisses but he nods. “Show me.” He demands, hating how his stomach is curling at the thought. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about other women, but he hadn’t touched one.

You nod a few times before moving the laptop to face him, pressing play on a scene that makes you feel violently sick. “I’m so sorry, Dave. Never in a million years did I expect it to be with your wife… my friend.”

Dave’s brows pull together, jaw tightening in anger as he watches, listens to the scene in front of him. There’s zero doubt that is his wife, bouncing on another guy's dick. He doesn’t even realize his hands clenched in anger as he watches, furious at the betrayal.

Seeing the fury and the obvious hurt on his face, you decide to pause the video and close down the laptop. He doesn’t need to see anymore and neither do you. “As soon as he gets home today, I'm making him leave. He can go back to his mothers.”

Dave huffs, nearly glaring at you. “Show me the rest of it.” He demands.

You push the laptop over at him, and shake your head, “Fine, but I don’t want to see anymore.”

Nodding, he watches as you log back in and he pushes play. Glancing at you when you winch, hearing the moans and the breathless conversation as they fuck on what he assumes is your bed. “Fucking assholes.”

“She’s faking it,” you scoff, as the moans get more animated. “The man couldn’t give a woman an orgasm if his life depended on it.”

He snorts and it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask why the fuck you stayed with him then. “Don’t kick him out.” Dave decides seriously.

“What?” You say with a raised eyebrow, before both of your attention is immediately drawn back to them. Laying in their ‘post coital glow.’

“God, I swear she gets dumber every day,” your husband says with a laugh, “All I’ve got to do is pay her five minutes of attention and the stupid bitch thinks everything is fine. Doesn’t even realize that my lawyer has pretty much voided the prenuptial agreement. I’ll hand her the form to sign and just like the dutiful wife she is, she’ll be signing half her money over to me without as much of a second glance.”

“Dave makes good money, but he’s so fucking boring. He wants to ‘save for a rainy day’.” Carol hums. “But he doesn’t ever spend time with just me. He always wants the girls around. I’m tired of being a perfect mother. I honestly didn’t want Molly. But Dave had to try for his boy.” She snorts. “Too much of a pussy to give me a boy, I guess.”

Dave growls, pissed at the way she is talking about their daughter. He doesn’t give a shit about what she says about him. “She’s the fucking one who decided to take out her fucking birth control.”

“It’s been about a year,” you say to Dave, “Well, that’s when I started having suspicions. Always working late on a Thursday night, and unexplained charges on our joint account. I’ve let him walk over me for a year.” Tears start to well up in your eyes, and embarrassment floods through you. “I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t fucking cheat.” Dave scoffs. “Don’t be sorry.” He shakes his head, “don’t kick him out. Don’t show him that you know.” He advises, the gears in his mind already turning. “Get a lawyer, start moving your money around so he can’t take it.”

“Okay,” you say with a deep breath, “I have an account that he doesn’t have access to. Fuck. I’m so stupid. I knew he was cheating, I just let him gaslight me over and over.”

“You didn’t want to believe it.” Luckily you and the fucker don’t have kids, and he would just fucking kill them both, but the girls would miss their mother. He narrows his eyes at the screen. “Get a lock box, or safety deposit box for all your paperwork. will, social security cards, jewelry. Lock them up. Start removing him from shit. Access to the cell phone plan to make changes. Utilities, whatever you have jointly, unless it’s something he uses everyday.”

“I, uh, I should write this down,” you say, nodding your head, “Dave… Thursday nights… Was she here? There were nights where he came home the next morning after claiming he slept in the office.”

He shakes his head, huffing to himself. “She had ‘book club’.” He gives air quotes. “And since they supposedly always got so hammered, she would stay there.” He had thought it was stupid, but he had also felt like his wife deserved a night out, away from the kids.

“Fuck.” Shaking your head, “I’m going to go home. Start the things you’ve suggested. I’m really sorry again, Dave. I just felt you deserved to know.”

“Thank you for telling me.” His own situation is slightly more difficult, often the agency will put people on desk duty when finding out they are divorcing and he doesn’t want that. “Let me know if they make more videos. I’m going to install a camera here too.”

“Write down your email address and I'll send you that video. I guess we will have to work out a way to approach this together.”

Dave nods and reaches for the pad he keeps next to the home phone. Ripping off a sheet and writing his private email down, along with his phone number. “I’ll think of some way to make these fuckers sorry.” He promises, handing it to you. “I’m going to be finding out the toughest lawyer in the business. I’ll let you know their names.”

“Thank you, Dave,” you say as you feel your reserve slipping, the urge to cry coming back in full force. “Let’s make them pay.”

He nods, watching as you pick up your laptop. “Call me if you feel like you’re going to tell him you know.” He asks, knowing that he would tell Carol and then Dave would have to figure out a plan b.

“Will do.” The second you’re back inside, you start the tasks he gave you. Starting with gathering up all your important documents and putting them in a temporary safe space and then ordering a safe. You wonder how long Dave’s plan will take and hope it won’t be too long, the idea of sharing a bed with your husband makes your skin crawl.

****

Thursday’s have become sort of a check in day. You normally end up coming over and spending the evening with Dave and the girls. Sometimes having dinner and then staying once the girls had gone to bed. Tonight is another check in and Dave pours you a glass of wine. “How are you holding up?” He asks quietly.

“Better,” you admit with a smile, “Everything except the joint account is handled. Just ready to move on with my life and hopefully meet someone who actually cares about me. How about you?”

“Most everything was in my name anyway.” Dave admits with a small smirk. “She can’t touch the house since I bought it with my VA and I’m going for custody. I might have to pay her out, but whatever.”

“I guess him being infertile ended up working in my favor,” you say sadly, “I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone because he said that it was embarrassing, but I own the house. My Dad left me an inheritance and I was fortunate enough to buy it outright with it. I’m going to miss living here.”

“Why are you going to move?” Dave asks. “If you own the house and bought it with your inheritance, it’s yours.”

“I always imagined filling it with kids,” you say with a shrug, “I don’t want to be in a big house that’ll remind me just how alone I am.”

He frowns slightly, even as he voices his next thought. “You could always bring in another guy.” He reminds you. “Find love and fill it with kids.”

“I guess.” The sadness is evident in your voice, so you change the subject, “So are you any closer to coming up with a plan?”

Dave chuckles and glances up just as there is a loud thump upstairs. “After the girls are asleep.” He promises, knowing little ears don’t need to hear his plan.

“Sounds like you have something figured out,” you say before taking a sip of your wine.

“Do you want to humiliate them?” Dave asks with a small smirk. “And get revenge?”

“Yes,” you answer with a smile, “I want him to hurt the way he hurt me.”

“Then I’ll tell you about my plan in twenty minutes.” He promises and nods to your wine.

“So drink up, you’re gonna need it.”

Wordlessly you nod and take another large sip of your wine, desperate to hear his plan.

The two of you dance around the subject, talking about things in the news, events happening in town and Dave enjoys it. He’s come to enjoy talking to you and spending time in your company. Your husband is an idiot to throw over someone who is funny and nice, actually pays attention to the world around her - he doesn’t deserve you. When Dave’s self appointed time is up, he sets down his own wine glass and leans in close. “We should sleep together.” He announces.

“What?” You say with a giggle, convinced you’d misheard him. You had thought about it, fuck the last few times you’ve slept with your husband you’d found yourself imagining it was Dave, circling your clit with such intensity that you came harder than ever before. “I mean… Fuck, I want to. But wouldn’t that make us just as bad?”

“Not if we fuck in front of them.” Dave chuckles, smirking slightly because of your admission of want. “As a sort of goodbye gift to them.”

“Oh,” you say, thinking about the look of Tommy’s face as Dave fucks you. Tommy paraded you around like a trophy, having no issues embarrassing you by announcing to anyone and everyone that you lost your virginity to him and he’d be the only man to have been inside of you. Like you were his possession. “I like it. But I have one condition…. and you might find it a little weird.”

“What’s that?” Dave tilts his head and looks at you curiously. It’s not unusual to have conditions and he would be surprised if you didn’t.

“I want you to cum inside of me.” You say after taking a deep breath, “I’ll buy Plan B in preparation and you can watch me take it. But I need for him to see that it’s really over, and despite what he thinks… he doesn’t own me.”

Dave frowns and then he remembers the first Christmas party after you had moved into the neighborhood. Tommy had been shit housed and bragging about how his was the only ever cum you’ve had. He had marked you good and proper. Dave hums, his lips curling up wickedly. “Done.”

“Thank you.” It feels oddly liberating to think about. “I don’t think we should do it in the houses though… Maybe book a hotel. Request adjoining rooms and keep everything a surprise. Blindfolds and gags. Only reveal to them what’s happening after they’re strapped to some shitty hotel chair unable to move.”

He raises a brow and smirks at how quickly you came up with something that is so feasible. “Noise canceling headphones.” Dave adds, nodding. “So they can’t hear us opening the door and whatever, not until we are ready.”

“Perfect. I want them to suffer. And I know that’s awful to say out loud but the way they spoke about us… fuck.” You shake your head and laugh, “You know that he doesn’t pay for a single bill in our house. Works part time and the entirety of his paychecks go on his stupid hobbies… Golfing or gaming. I put money into our joint account each month and he just… Fuck. He gets nothing.”

“You have a prenup, and a clause for cheating.” Dave smirks and chuckles. “Carol’s gonna get something, but it won’t be enough for her liking.”

“I can’t wait to see the look on his face as you fuck me.” You say with a chuckle, before finishing up your wine. “What’s your favorite color?”

Dave grins and imagines you in his favorite color. “Green.” He hums. “Dark green.”

“Dark green it is,” you say with a wink. “When do you wanna do this?”

“I say we wait and do it when the lawyers finish the divorce papers.” Dave suggests. “We pack their shit that day and load it into a storage unit, change our locks and codes, fuck in front of them, drop the keys and the papers and shoot them the bird on the way out the door.”

“That sounds perfect. I know this sounds weird to say, but I'm kind of grateful he cheated. I would have spent forever living in his shadow and the past few weeks I’ve really started to realize that he doesn’t deserve me.” You say, with your first genuine smile in weeks. “Also I get to fuck my sexy neighbour in revenge.”

“You think I’m sexy?” Dave’s brows wing up and he’s flattered by the compliment. It’s been a long time since someone’s said that. The marriage had hit rocky patches before but never like this and he sees now that she’s been disengaging for a while.

“I have eyes, Dave,” you say with a giggle, “Every woman on this block stops and stares when you walk past. Those shoulders… Fuck. Those lips.”

“You’re so full of shit.” Dave huffs, rolling his eyes even if he secretly likes the compliment.

“Oh please,” you say, “Like you haven’t noticed the staring. Honestly, I’ve thought of you whilst using my wand,” you admit with a shrug, “After seeing you mowing the lawn shirtless.”

He smirks and leans back. “Might do that on purpose.” He admits with a shrug. “Tanning and all.”

“Well thank you for the show,” you giggle. “God, I can’t believe she cheated on you with him. I know he’s my husband but I had the excuse of him being my high school sweetheart. We’ve been together for years and he’s never made me cum once.”

“Bullshit.” Dave snorts and shakes his head. “Not even once? By accident?” He asks, nearly amazed by how fucking horrible that is.

“Never. He doesn’t do foreplay, and he’s never found that spot inside of me,” you shrug, “Usually I let him do his thing so I can roll over and sleep, occasionally I’ll rub my clit just to distract myself.”

“He doesn’t eat your pussy?” Dave’s eyes widen in shock and disgust. He understands that not all women cum from sex, he had a girlfriend before Carol who could not cum from penetration but he damn sure made her cum on his tongue.

“Nope. Never. He’s never even tried it, says the idea of it makes him ‘queasy’.” Looking over at him and seeing the look of surprise on his face makes you chuckle, “Guess I didn’t pick a good one.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, what a moron.” He shakes his head and his opinion of Tommy drops even lower than before and he didn’t think that was possible. “What a ….fuck, a pussy.”

“Nah. A pussy is useful,” you correct him, “I should get back. I’m super tired and he hasn’t texted saying it’s a ‘late one’ tonight so I figure they’ll be home soon. I will be counting down the seconds until the lawyers are done with the paperwork.”

“I would offer to show you what a real man does with his mouth, but I’ll wait to give him a ‘lesson’.” Dave hums, standing up and offering you a hand to get up off the couch.

“Oh, yeah? You going to eat my little pussy in front of him?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. You take his hand and let him help you up.

“Fuck yes.” Dave smirks. “If he finds it repulsive, I also wanna remind Carol what she’s missing. She fucking loved when I would go down on her.”

You hum happily, “I can’t wait to feel those lips on me.” Leaning forward you place a small kiss on his cheek, “Thank you for tonight. I really enjoy spending time with you and your gorgeous girls. I’ll be waiting impatiently for the paperwork to be completed. Goodnight, Dave.”

“Good night, sweetheart.” Dave walks you to the door and opens it for you. “As soon as it’s in, we’ll make sure they regret cheating on us.”

“Yes we will,” you agree with a smile, before walking back over to your house. Creeping upstairs and getting into the shower. Letting yourself get lost in imagining the feeling of Dave’s hands all over you, his mouth on your cunt and his cock buried inside of you. Your fingertips work your bundle of nerves as quickly as they can and you cum with a soft moan of his name. Climbing out of the shower you get dried, fix your hair and get into your pajamas. Wanting to be asleep or at least pretending to be when Tommy finally crawls in beside you.

****

“I got my papers.” Dave risks a call, knowing Carol isn’t checking the phone bill and calling you as soon as he steps out from his lawyers office. They don’t approve of his idea, but he also wasn’t told he couldn't do it. Just that he shouldn’t and he doesn’t agree with that.

“Me too,” you say gleefully down the phone. “You want to do it this weekend?”

“I’m thinking so.” Dave grins at the glee in your voice. “How do we want to lure them to the hotel?”

“I’m thinking we both book a room - request they’re adjoining, and once they’re both blindfolded, gagged and wearing headphones, we unlock the door and I'll lead Tommy into your room?”

“That works.” Dave agrees. “I’ll tell Carol I want to put some spice back in our marriage.”

“I’ll tell Tommy I have a surprise planned. I’ll go ahead and call and book the hotel.. and then I have some shopping to do… Dark green right?”

“Dark green.” He hums. “I’m going to enjoy ripping it off of you.” He admits, voice dropping.

“Keep playing with my pussy to the thought of it,” you whisper into your phone. “Only a few days to go.”

“I’ll book the rooms together but put one under your name.” Dave tells you, knowing that he will be able to convince them of it.

“Perfect. Is there anything you need me to do?”

“Start making noises to your husband about getting away. Doing something romantic this weekend. I’m going to ‘surprise’ Carol.”

“Perfect. Can’t wait to see the look on both of their faces. I’ll text you tonight, once I've told him about the surprise.”

The rest of the day goes by smoothly, you pop into Victoria’s secret and spot the perfect set and make your way home. Large glass of wine poured, you sip it generously as you listen to his footsteps approaching the door.

“Good day at work?” You call out from the kitchen with a roll of your eyes.

“Long,” Tommy groans before reaching over and helping himself to your wine, “Tomorrow is going to be longer.”

“Oh. I really hope they’re going to start paying you for those long Thursday nights. Sometimes you don’t even make it home. It’s not good for you sleeping on your office floor,” you say with the most sympathetic smile you can force. “Anyway, I have a plan for Saturday night that’ll make it all better. A surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” He says with a raised eyebrow and a curl of his lips, “What kind of surprise?”

“All will be revealed,” you say as you turn to him with a small kiss on his cheek, “A surprise that involved me spending a huge amount of money in Victoria’s secret for someone.” You leave him standing in the kitchen with a grin plastered on his face as you begin to climb the stairs with the rest of the wine and a new glass, “Dinner is ordered, i’m going for a bath.”

Dinner passes with its normal antics from the kids and Dave watches Carol. Nothing about her demeanor says that she’s cheating but he’s found the credit card she’s using to pay for it. It’s a secret one that she opened in his name. Not only is she renting hotel rooms, but she’s doing it on his fucking credit. It’s malicious irony that Dave booked the rooms at the same hotel that her and Tommy frequent.

Avoiding him for the rest of the evening, you have a long hot soak in the bath and only retreat back downstairs to grab your dinner and a drink. Spending the rest of the evening in bed watching netflix whilst he watches TV downstairs.

You decide to shoot Dave a quick text to let him know you’ve told Tommy about the surprise, and check you’re still on for to meet up and go over the plan the next evening.

‘Hey. Told him that I’ve booked a special surprise, and he ate it up. He’s told me he’s “working late” tomorrow, so I can pop around and we can go over things?’

Dave hums as his phone buzzes, Carol engrossed in her show so he slides his phone out and grins. His own reply comes quickly. ‘Sure. Now I wonder if Carol will be told about your plans this weekend? Ever wonder if he tells her that you two still have sex?’

You huff and type back. ‘We’ve had sex twice in the past two months, so I’m pretty sure if he’s saying anything, it’s about my lack of interest in the cheating bastard. Only fucked him so he would stop questioning why I was being distant. I doubt he’ll say anything though. The last video of them cheating he spent most of it, reassuring her that he doesn’t love me and never did. Do you think she’ll tell him about your ‘plans’?’

Dave snorts. ‘Haven’t told her. Plan on doing it at the last minute and making it seem like a romantic gesture.’

‘Good idea. I can’t wait till he is out of my house. Out of my life.’

‘Won’t be long. Just don’t kill him over the next few days.’ Dave chuckles to himself and when Carol looks up, he points to the tv. “They are so stupid it’s funny.” He explains, putting his phone away.

‘I’ll try.’ You reply before settling down for the night, wanting to be fasting asleep before Tommy gets upstairs.

****

The next day Tommy is ‘working late’ and Carol has a suspiciously timed meeting that runs over. Making Dave shake his head at how stupidly brazen they are getting. Still, he looks out the window and sees you walking over about an hour after he gets home with the kids.

You knock the door, dessert in hand as Alice whips open the door and immediately informs you that she and Molly are going to eat pizza in her room and watch a movie as you chat to Daddy.

Dave chuckles as you walk in. “The girls are getting spoiled.” He hums. “And so am I.”

“You have no idea,” you say with a wink, “I hear it’s pizza tonight? Sounds perfect.”

“Yeah, Carol had a “meeting”.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Strange, right?”

“Who’d have thought?” You giggle, “Well-,” you say as you pick up the glass of wine he’d poured for you, “Here’s to the last time they lie to us.”

“Are you ready for it?” He asks quietly, picking up his own glass. “For the big reveal?”

“I am counting down the seconds.” You say with a smile. “God, I hope they realize we aren’t to be fucked with.”

“I think they will figure that out when they don’t walk away with the pot of gold like they were expecting.” Dave snorts.

“I just can’t wait to see his face when he realizes that I'm not his trophy anymore.” The doorbell rings and Dave goes to get the pizza as you pour the girls out their juice, ready to take it upstairs to them for their movie night.

“Girls!” The two girls thunder downstairs to grab their cheese pizza and disappear just as quickly, each one fighting over who was going to sing the first song. Dave shakes his head and looks at you with a faux harried expression. “They are going to be trouble later on.” He predicts with a groan.

“I’m sure you can handle it, they worship their Daddy.” You say before topping up your glasses, “I’m going to miss this.”

“Why are you going to miss it?” Dave asks, frowning slightly.

“It’s been nice. Coming around and eating with you and the girls, the highlight of my week. They’re both absolutely adorable.”

“You can still come over anytime.” He offers. “If you aren’t out on dates, you know.” He shrugs and shoots you a smirk.

“Me? Dating? Unlikely. But I’d still love to come over. I mean it when I say it’s the highlight of my week.” You take a small sip and try to ignore the way he makes you feel, the past few weeks you had grown closer to Dave and started to really appreciate how good of a man he is.

“Shit.” Dave snorts. “You’ll be dating before the fucking ink is dry.” He predicts. “You’re beautiful, kind, funny and smart. And I bet you are killer in the sack. He’s an idiot.” He tells you, talking about your stupid soon-to-be-ex.

“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask quietly. “I can’t remember the last time someone complimented me. And the killer in the sack? Well I guess you don’t have long to find out.”

“I can’t wait to find out.” Dave admits quietly. “And you should be getting compliments all the time.”

“As should you. You’re remarkable. The best daddy ever, you work so hard and it’s appreciated, Dave.” You say before squeezing his hand, “And I’m excited to show you just how appreciated you are.”

“Is that what it’s going to be?” Dave asks, grinning slightly. “A show of appreciation?”

“If that’s what you want,” you tease, “Going to suck your cock. Just the thought of it makes me so wet.”

“Jesus.” His eyes widen, surprised you even said that out loud. He’s thought about it plenty, but apparently so have you. “Then we’ll have to do a sixty-nine. Because I’m gonna give your dumbass husband a lesson on how to make a woman squeal his name.”

“Fuck, that sounds perfect. But also to start I want to look into your eyes as I'm sucking your cock. Feel you fuck my mouth,” you whisper quietly.

“Have you ever done that before?” Dave asks, raising a brow and trying not to spring a boner at the thought of you letting him face fuck you.

“Nope,” you admit quietly. “Tommy had me blow him for a bit pretty much every time we had sex. But it was tame.”

“Bet he likes you to ‘look pretty’ while his dick is in your mouth.” Dave scoffs. “When your mascara should be running and the split is soaking your chin.”

“He just wants to get off. Fuck. I want that.”

Dave has been careful not to touch you. Not willing to put himself in the same level as Carol. He still won’t fuck you but he does reach out, talking ahold if your chin and rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Then we’re going to enjoy it. You’re going to enjoy it.”

You reach out and squeeze his hand again, before taking another sip of your wine and a bite of your pizza. This time in 48 hours it’ll be the beginning of the new end, and the start of something new and exciting.

****

The day of, Dave walks up to Carol at the kitchen sink and wraps his arms around her. Imagining choking her, he forced himself to kiss her neck. “I arranged for the girls to have a sleepover tonight.” He hums, pressing himself up against her and imagining fucking you so he gets hard. “Booked us a hotel room.”

“Oh?” Carol squeals with excitement, “Which one? What’s the plan?” Pushing herself against him a little harder. One thing about Carol York is that she’ll never say no to a surprise.

Dave names the hotel and pretends not to notice the split second of his wife freezing in his arms. He knows she panics and the moment she relaxes, making him hum. “Figured it’s been awhile since we had a night to ourselves.”

“That sounds lovely, darling,” she says, “But I don’t want you wasting your money on me. We can just have a quiet night in.”

“Travel points.” Dave lies easily, knowing that she doesn’t want to go back to the same hotel where she’s been visiting every week. “Already booked and waiting on us. Already checked in.”

“Sounds great,” she lies, hoping the weekend staff aren’t the same as the ones during the week.

****

“You excited for tonight, honey?” You ask Tommy, who’s wolfing down his breakfast.

“Can't wait to see what you spent a fortune on in Victoria’s Secret, I think I’m due a sneak preview, just to get me through the day.” He says with a wink.

“No previews. The someone I bought this for will absolutely love it. I assure you.” You say as you go upstairs to pack you ‘both’ an overnight bag.

Dave manages to talk Carol into packing a bag, hustling her out of the house and into the car without much fuss. The girls have already been deposited at their friends house and as soon as she and Dave leave, a team of professional movers will be coming and boxing up everything Dave discreetly tagged to move into the storage unit he had rented.

You stick to the plan and wait for the text from Dave telling you they’re about to check in before you leave. Not wanting any awkward run-ins at reception. “Hey honey, I forgot to fill up my car, mind if I drive yours?” You ask innocently. Knowing that Dave had arranged for the movers to come to yours after they’ve collected Carol's stuff, and taking his car meant he’d have no reason to come back to your house.

Huffing, Tommy rolls his eyes, desperately thinking if he had left any evidence of Carol being in the car. “You’re lucky I make sure that my car is filled up all the time.” He lectures. “You need to take care of those things.”

“I’m sorry, love,” you say with a fake pout, “Had a lot on my mind.” You take the car keys from him and load up the car, seconds after the go ahead text from Dave. He huffs again as he enters the passenger side and starts droning on about how ‘he needs to know’ where you’re both staying that night.

“You’ll know soon enough, baby,” you placate with a squeeze of his knee, “Heard great things about this place.”

The plan was for Dave to unlock the adjoining door on his side when Carol was in the bathroom but leave it shut so she wouldn’t know, and you were to do the same when you got into the room.

“You won’t tell me where we are going and you won't let me see the lingerie.” He grumbles. “I thought you were spoiling me.”

“Like I said you’ll see soon enough,” you smile, “We’re not too far from where we are staying.”

Tommy shifts uneasily as he watches his normal hotel come into view. “Here honey?” He makes it sound like that’s a horrible idea. “I’ve heard this place is a dump.”

“Oh no,” you say with a shake of your head, “It’s a five star hotel, honey, cost me a fortune but tonight will be worth it.” You say with a wink, come on, let’s get checked in. “Maybe we can order room service.”

Tommy plasters on a fake smile and chuckles. Praying that no one recognizes him. It would ruin his plan.

You notice how antsy he is as you check in and it makes you grin and shake your head. He cowers behind you at the check in desk and stares at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with anyone and practically running towards the elevator once you’ve got your keycard.

‘Here.’ You text Dave in the elevator, pretending to text your mom. “God this hotel is gorgeous, I can’t wait to see our room.”

“Maybe we can just stay in our room all night.” Tommy manages, reaching out and snagging your waist. “Lock the world away.”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” you assure him, “The plans I have for tonight, don’t involve you going anywhere.”

He’s relieved, planning on hiding in the bathroom when you decide to order room service. He can’t let anyone let you know about his plans, he’s not ready yet. Still needing access to the deed for the house. He wants to add himself to it so he can take it from you. It’ll be nice rental income, moving in with Carol and renting out that house.

You open the door and take a look around the room, unlocking your side of the adjoining rooms as Tommy has a “first look” around the bathroom. You open your bag and start to take out a few bits, quietly calling him back in the room so Carol can’t hear you shouting his name. “Are you excited for tonight?”

“Depends on if you're going to suck my dick or not.” Tommy grins, thinking that he’s being romantic. The one bad thing about Carol is that she’s not willing to give him head if he doesn’t go down on her. Claiming that you might have understood, but she wasn’t a doormat. He missed someone sucking his dick.

“I promise that there will be some dick in this pretty little mouth tonight,” you tease, before picking up the blindfold and gag you had hidden in your purse, “Are you going to be a good boy and do as I say?”

Tommy’s brows shoot up. “What’s this?” He demands, grinning. “You never want to play.”

“Just thought we’d spice things up a little,” you reply softly, “I can feel you slipping away from me. I read some tips… you don’t want to?”

“No, no.” Tommy’s greedy. You might be boring in bed but you are also the only woman who has only had him. “I want to. I’m just surprised you want to. Sure you don’t want me to blindfold you?”

“Maybe later, but right now I want to do this my way.” Walking over, you untie his tie and motion for him to give you his hands, using the tie to restrain him. Before gagging, blindfolding and putting on his noise canceling headphones.

‘Ready when you are!’ You text Dave after sitting Tommy down on one of the two hotel chairs and lightly restraining him to it.

Lifting off one side of his headphones you whisper into his ears, “Good things come to those who wait.”

Dave hums, deciding that he would lift his own noise canceling headphones off Carol’s ear. She’s already tied up, but not in a chair. “Come on baby, I’m going to guide you.” He coos in her ear. “Trust me.”

You open the adjoining door after hearing Dave open his, and flash him a little smile as he guides Carol to the chair next to Tommys.

“You ready?” You ask him, as he steps back and places his hand on the small of your back.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Dave doesn’t fucking care about them, they made their bed. But if you don’t want to do this, he can pull the plug and just snatch the rug out from under them without ever laying a finger on you.

Rocking up on your tiptoes, you place a fleeting kiss to his lips before nodding. “I’m ready, ready to follow your lead.”

“Do you still want to suck my cock?” Dave asks, reaching up and cupping your cheek.

“Fuck, yes, i’ve been thinking about it all day.”

He hums and pats your cheek lightly, “then strip down. I want you naked on your knees so I can fuck you right away when we get done indulging.”

“You don’t wanna rip this off of me in front of them?” You ask as you unbutton your sundress and let it fall to the floor, revealing the dark green lacy lingerie set you had picked out just for Dave.

“Fuck.” He hisses, cock twitching at seeing his favorite color on your body. “Never mind. Keep it on. I’ll strip.”

“Yes sir,” you say with a giggle, excited to finally feel his hands on you.

Dave strips down quickly, watching Tommy and Carol start to shift restlessly in their chairs. Antsy. He smirks and arches a brow when he shucks his pants and reveals his hard cock. “Sure you want to do this?”

“Holy shit, it’s gorgeous,” you choke out at the sight of his cock, “Fuck yes. You ready to take their blindfolds off?”

“Blindfolds and headphones.” He hums. “Not the gags.”

“Let’s go.” You walk towards Tommy and Dave walks towards Carol. On his signal headphones are removed and then masks. The look on your now ex-husbands face is a sight to behold. Both of them stare at each other in utter bewilderment as you take a step back and take Dave’s hand. “Hello, honey, how are you liking your surprise? Must be nice to see the woman you’ve been fucking for the better part of a year here with us and her husband too.”

Dave chuckles and shakes his head as his face drops into a scowl at the two of them. They are completely frozen and panicked. "It's funny that you think we wouldn't find out." He tells them flatly before he turns to you. "Why don't we show them what it's like to watch your spouse fuck the neighbor?"

“I think we should,” you say with a giggle, as you perch yourself on the end of the bed. “Hurt them, how they hurt us.”

“Maybe they won’t give a shit.” The muffled protests coming from the two seems to disprove that, but Dave just leans in to press his lips to yours softly. It’s the first kiss he’s ever given you. When he pulls back he tells them that before smirking. “I want you on your knees, pretty girl.”

You ignore the sounds coming from that side of the room, and immediately get up and sink down to your knees. Looking up at Dave with your sweetest smile before gently holding on to the base of him, and placing a light kiss on the tip of his cock. The tip bright red and begging for release, you lick the bead of precum that’s gathered at the top and slowly wrap your lips around him. Not used to having something so big in your mouth, you moan at the stretch, taking him in just a few inches and swirling your tongue around him.

“Fuck.” Dave hisses, looking down at you and cupping your cheek. “Take more of it. I know you can. But don’t choke. I’m going to fuck that pretty throat of yours.”

You do as he instructs as take him further into your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. Slowly bobbing up and down before taking him further, loving the firm grip he has on your face. You can feel yourself getting wetter the deeper you take him, the sounds he makes spurring you on and making you crave more.

“Unlike you two, this is the first time for us.” Dave groans, sliding his hand around to cup the back of your head. “So you get to enjoy the first time I fuck your wife since you’ve been fucking mine.”

You hollow your cheeks and suck as hard as you can as your nose just brushes against the patch of hair at the base. Drowning out the groans of annoyance from Tommy and Carol by moaning happily around him. Tears stream from your eyes as he keeps your head from moving, keeping you still as he feeds you the last inch or so of his cock.

Once Dave feels the back of your throat constrict around him, he pulls his hips back. “Fuck, I’m gonna enjoy this.” He groans, holding your head tights as he snaps his hips forward roughly and buries his cock in your mouth again.

You almost squeal as he fucks into your mouth, groaning in pleasure as you suck around him. Praising you for taking him so well, and telling you how pretty you look with his cock in your needy little mouth.

Both Tommy and Carol are struggling against the ties that bind them in the chairs. Shouting against the gags, but Dave doesn’t even pay them any attention. Focusing on you. “That pretty little pussy is wet, isn’t it?” He huffs. “Can’t wait to taste it. To lick you until you squeal my name.”

Looking up at him through your tear stained eyelashes you nod dutifully, a smile stretching across your already stretched out mouth. Before you resume your focus on his cock, bobbing your head to meet the snap of his hips, chasing more of those groans he floods the room with.

“You should have licked her cunt, Tommy.” Dave growls mockingly. “Now I’m going to and she’s going to realize what she’s been missing being with a piece of shit like you.” He smirks, looking over at his wife as she cries. “Can’t believe you put up with that shit. Especially since you know how good my tongue is.”

You pull off him and stroke his length, you’ve drenched the lacy material from sucking his cock alone and feel yourself flood the fabric further as he talks about eating you out. “Dave,” you say with a breathy moan, as you lick the weeping tip of him, “I need you.”

Smirking, he grabs your hand and helps you up, sliding his hand down between your legs possessively. “Fuck, you’re soaked baby girl.” He growls. “Want to see how much wetter I can get you. Gotta undress you first.” The panties are ripped off, pulling a moan out of you and he chuckles when the expensive green top also rips apart in his hands. The chairs are positioned so that the bed is on full display and he pulls you down onto it with him.

“I wanna show him,” you mumble, “I wanna show him how fucking wet I get when I actually want to suck a cock, I want him to see how you could slide right in with no fucking lube.”

“Shit.” Dave slaps your ass and smirks at the two spouses. “Never really thought about fucking her until we found out you two were cheating.” He admits. “So thank you.”

“Can’t say I didn’t think about Dave,” you admit with a shrug as you shuffle towards Tommy, opening your legs and letting him see your glistening cunt.

"I thought about it." He amends, "but I never considered doing it until now. Because I was fucking married."

“Same,” you shrug, “Shame that the people we married didn’t feel the same.” You shift back up and take his face in your hands, “I want you to do whatever you need to me, baby.”

"Fuck, I want you to sit on my face." Dave coos, reaching down to slide a finger through your folds and grins when you shiver. "Show you how a real man eats pussy."

“Yes sir,” you whisper before kissing him, watching as he lays down on his back and as he motions for you to move up. You lower yourself down slowly, hovering a few inches from his face.

“Fuck.” Dave groans, his cock twitching at the sight and he tilts his head back to look at Tommy. “Don’t know how you didn’t dive into this cunt every chance you got.” He huffs before he grabs your hips and pulls you down onto his tongue.

“Dave,” you yelp, as he slowly drags his tongue through your folds. Teasing your clit over and over. One of the hands finds purpose in his hair, tangling in his slightly overgrown style as the other grips onto the headboard. Your hips start to rock of their own accord, chasing your high, as a brand new sensation overwhelms you.

He flicks and curls his tongue, showing off for the cheating bastards who are still squirming and huffing through their gags, but also for you. Wanting to make the first time you’ve ever been eaten out memorable for more reasons than just showing up your cheating ex.

You can’t stop panting his name, moaning it over and over as you soak his face. It doesn’t take long until you’re hanging over the edge, seconds from cumming because of another person for the first time in your life. “So close, baby, so close.” You choke out through ragged breaths.

Dave groans, squeezing your hips and encouraging you to cum for him. Eager to taste it and to show your bastard husband that you deserved it.

With a few more flicks of his tongue against your clit, you’re cumming hard, flooding his face with your arousal as he pulls you apart in the most incredible way.

Dave groans and keeps you pressed against him, wanting to have you soak up every bit of your pleasure until you are sobbing his name out loud.

It doesn’t take long until you’re meeting his silent demand, and the yells shimmer down to you whimpering his name. You want to taunt your husband, tell him that’s what it looks like when you cum, but you don’t. You focus on Dave, moving yourself down him slowly and straddling his waist, before leaning back down and whispering the softest ‘thank you’ into his ear.

Smirking slightly, Dave nods. He’s not thinking about Tommy or Carol right now, he’s tuned them out. But he is thinking about you and how fucking wet you are, grinding down on his cock. “Can I fuck you?” He asks, even though you are on top of him.

“Please,” you plead, with a smile. “How do you want me?”

“Do you want to ride me to start out with?” He asks, caressing your hip.

“Can we build up to that?” You say quietly, “You’re huge. It’s going to be a stretch, I’m not used to anything like this.”

“That’s good,” Dave nods, knowing he doesn’t want to hurt you. “Lay down on your side, facing your loving husband.” He smirks, imagining the look on the bastard's face when he slides into you.

“Okay,” you nod, biting back the endearment hanging off the tip of your tongue. You do as he says, looking at your furious husband, feeling a shiver run through. Fearing what he might do once he’s unrestrained.

Dave curls around you, hand sliding up to cup your breast and then down to your thigh. “Don’t worry. He’s not going to touch you.” He promises, whispering in your ear. “I won’t let him lay a finger on you.”

Within seconds of feeling his touch, the fear is replaced with excitement and lust and the need to feel him slip into you. “Fuck me, Dave,” you plead, letting your eyes flicker up to your husband one more time, before letting yourself forget he’s in the room.

He chuckles quietly and lifts your thigh, bringing it back over his hip and opening you up to their view. “I’m going to fuck you. Been thinkin’ about fucking you for weeks. Imagining how tight and hot you’d be.” He kisses along your jaw as he slides closer and shifts to take his cock in his hand.

You let him mold you into the position he wants you, loving the way his hands feel on you. “God, me too. Fuck. Played with my pussy every night dreaming about this.”

The head teases your slit, sliding around and he hums. “Good.” He glances at his crying wife and your angry husband and smirks. “Let me know how it feels, baby.” He orders as he starts to push inside you.

You whimper as he starts to inch into you, the stretch of him feeling delicious. “Feels so good, baby,” you choke out, before placing your hand on top of his and squeezing. “So fucking big.”

“That’s it.” Dave growls, slowly rocking his hips and sinking deeper. “You’re taking it so good, baby. Squeezing my dick like a vice.”

“Fuck,” you moan, as he hits something new inside of you. Something that makes you clamp down hard around him and chant his name like sacred prayer, over and over.

He doesn’t start fucking you like it’s his last day on earth. Not yet anyway. He takes his time. Measured thrusts meant to make you cry out and yet he’s not giving it his all. Changing the pace and force often to keep things stimulated for you and remind Carol what she’s given up.

It’s nothing you’ve ever experienced before, someone chasing their high whilst chasing yours just as hard. With every moan, and flutter he praises you for taking him so well, for soaking his cock and squeezing him so perfectly.

His hands start to wander. Knowing that women love to be worshiped while they are having sex, his hands squeeze and grope adoringly. Forgetting about your audience, he concentrates on the breathless moans and whimpers that come from your throat. Seemingly made more desperate everytime he praises you.

“I think I’m go—,” is all you’re able to get out, before you clamp down around him hard and cum on his cock. Focusing on his sweet praises as you convulse in pleasure, feeling your sheets dampen beneath you as he keeps the same delicious pace throughout your high.

"That's it, fuck that's it, baby girl." Dave moans as he feels you cum all over him. "Soak my cock. Show me how fucking wet your little pussy gets when you cum." He huffs. "You needed this, didn't you? It's been so fucking long since you've really cum, hasn't it?"

“Needed it so bad,” you pant, as you come back down. “Never cum like that before. You want me to ride you now, baby?” You ask, as you pull his hand up to your mouth and gently kiss it.

"Yes." Dave pulls out of you and rolls onto his back, eager to feel you on top of him again. "Ride me, baby girl."

“I love it when you call me baby,” you say, as you straddle his hips and sink down onto him. Taking him inch by inch, until you’re filled with him. Slowly you start to rock your hips, building up to a pace that has him groaning your name. The sound of muffled cries and shouting drowned out both of your pleasure. His thumb finds his clit and he rubs gentle circles into it as you ride him, wanting to feel his cock throb against your tights walls that are fluttering around him.

You don’t bounce on his cock, or slam yourself back. It’s a slow grind that he finds himself grunting every time you circle your hips. He just keeps his eyes on you. Enjoying the way your own close and your head tilts back as you moan.

With every rock of your hips, he notches against paradise. Soft moans slip from your slips, as you chase your high again. Wanting to cum one more time before he does. Needing to feel him as much as you can, for as long as you possibly can.

One hand on your hip, another on your clit, he urges you to cum. “Come on baby, I know you can cum around my cock, again.” He groans, thrusting up into you shallowly. “Want to see it, beautiful.”

You rock your hips a little faster, chasing more friction from this hand on your clit and with a one word command for you to ‘cum’, you’re clamping down around him once more. Pleasure coursing throughout your body as he keeps you from falling forward, and continues to fuck up into you. Praising you for taking him for so well and fitting around him like a glove.

Once you have collapsed into his chest, Dave rolls you over and pushes your legs wider. Grunting as he takes over and his next thrust is hard enough to have you yelling.

“Fuck,” you scream, as he begins a breath stealing pace. “F-fill me up,” you beg, as he pounds in and out of you.

There’s renewed struggling and muffled screaming. Tommy most likely when he hears the plea for Dave to fill you up, but he doesn’t give a shit. Focusing on you and his own mounting pleasure as he fucks you hard and fast.

The sounds that are coming from you are unrecognizable. Brand new. Noises of pure unfiltered pleasure drowning out everything else. “Please,” you choke out, the word pained as another orgasm threatens to devastate your exhausted body. “Please, Dave.”

“Gonna- gonna cum.” He growls, clenching his jaw to push another few thrusts out of his body that screams for release. He knows you’re close again. He can feel it. Needs to see you do it again for his own selfish pride.

With little to no warning, he pulls you back over that edge with him. His thrusts sloppy as you clamp down hard around him, practically screaming his name as you milk him dry of his cum. He grits out a little praise in your ear, before groaning your name and wrapping his arms around you as you sink deeper into the mattress.

Dave groans at the first piercing sound of his name, giving in and pushing deep as he starts to cum. Tightening his hold on you as he groans your name. Rolling his hips as he fills you.

“You feel so good,” you whimper as he paints your walls. You don’t want it to end, you want him to stay buried inside your desperate cunt forever. You can’t pretend that the past few weeks you haven’t been falling for him, and now being wrapped in his arms, you’re well and truly screwed. Literally.

“So good, baby. Fuck, that’s a tight little cunt.” He coos. “Never would have gone anywhere else if I had you in my bed.” It’s a shot at your husband, but it’s also true. He pulls back and presses his lips to yours before looking back at the cheaters still tied to their chairs. “We’re divorcing you both.” He announces.

“And you’ve already signed the papers,” you say with a smile, before immediately looking back at Dave. “Tommy gave me the idea. You were going to hand me an amended version of the prenup right? And this “dumb dutiful wife” was going to sign it without even glancing it over.”

Dave smirks when he sees Tommy’s eyes widen and his face drops. Discovering that his plot has been discovered. “Oops.” He hums sarcastically.

You giggle, before gently turning Dave’s face back towards yours and kissing him as hard as you can, a kiss that speaks a thousand words without saying any. “Thank you,” you murmur against his lips, knowing it’s time to face the music.

“Of course.” Dave sees the uncertainty and anxiety cross your face. He can tell you are scared of what might happen now that this is done. Pulling out if you gently, he sits up and looks towards the cheaters. “All your shit had been moved out of our houses to a storage unit. We’ll leave the keys, but you, especially you, Tommy-“ he growls, pointing his finger at the man. “Are not to come back tonight. Carol, you can come by and see the girls tomorrow. But you two enjoy the rooms.” He stands. “After we are dressed, I’ll untie you, Carol and you can untie Tommy after we’ve left.”

“You have no reason to come back to my house,” you say to Tommy, with a new found courage. “That’s why we drove your car. Don’t come back. I’ll see you in court with the video evidence of your cheating and your plans to fraudulently amend our prenuptial agreement.”

Dave ignores them as the two of you clean up and redress. Not even sparing them a glance. It feels freeing, setting out the papers and dropping the keys into a table before he smirks at you.

“Still ok to get a ride home?” You ask quietly, before he goes to untie Carol.

“Of course it’s okay, baby.” Dave stops and nods, giving you an encouraging smile before he moves back towards Carol.

You collect both yours and Dave’s things as he unties Carol, staying back just in case she decides to lunge at you. “Enjoy sleeping here tonight,” you say to Tommy, “This room will be the last thing I ever spend my money on you on. Sorry about the soaked sheets.” You add with a smirk.

Dave pulls off the gag and Carol sucks in a lungful of air. “Dave- Dave please, it’s not- I’m so sorry.” She sobs, leaping up out of the chair. “It was- God, I shouldn’t have done this.”

You see her leap towards Dave, and take another step back. “But you did,” you say quietly, “Both of you did this! For almost a year and the shit you said about us both, was worse than the fact you were fucking. You don’t deserve him and Tommy doesn’t deserve me.”

“I’m sorry Dave, I’m so sorry.” She reaches for him but he pulls back.

“Don’t.” He warns her. “The day I found out you were fucking him was the day I was done with you.”

“Same with you,” you say to Tommy. “I mean it when I say that you’re not welcome in my home again.” Turning to face Dave, you reach your hand out for him to take, “You ready?”

“I’m ready,” he assures you, taking your hand and looking back at the other two people with a look of utter disdain for them plastered on his face. “I hope you two are happy together.”

You lead him out of the room. Hand tightly gripping his as you make your way to the elevators, and pressing the button. Wordlessly you turn to face him and rock up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his.

He’s surprised by the kiss but he doesn’t push you away. Instead, he’s wrapping his arms around you and leaning into it. Enjoying the fact that you aren’t crying like he had expected.

“I’m going to feel you for days,” you say against his lips, before pulling him for another kiss. Stepping into the thankfully empty elevator still attached to him, wanting to extend the moment for as long as you can.

“Do you-“ he pulls away and frowns. “The girls are at a sleepover and I told Kayla’s mom that Carol isn’t to pick them up. Do you want me to crash on your sofa? Make sure Tommy doesn’t decide to show up tonight?”

“Honestly, I was hoping you’d sleep in my bed,” you admit quietly, “But you don’t have to… if you’d prefer to crash on the sofa, you can.”

“I wasn’t going to assume anything.” Dave chuckles quietly, reaching up and rubbing your back. “If you want me to be in your bed, I’ll sleep there.”

“I want you in my bed,” you say with a smile, “How are you feeling?”

“Indifferent.” He admits. “I’m angry for the girls, but I’m completely over Carol. Just cut the infection out and move on.” Maybe not the healthiest way to deal with things, but he managed. “How are you feeling?”

“Kids are super resilient and we both know that they love their Daddy, they’ll be okay.” You say with a squeeze of his hand, “I’m really good, great actually.”

“A good fucking will do that.” He teases, smirking at you slightly. “What are your plans for tomorrow night?” He asks suddenly.

“Yeah, I-uh-I could get used to that,” you mumble, “I’m free. How about you?”

“Well, considering I’m free and you’re free…” Dave shrugs slightly. “Thought I might take you out on a date. If you wanted. If not, I get it.”

“Sounds perfect,” you say with the biggest smile you’ve managed for weeks, “Do I get to wear something pretty?”

“Where whatever you want. Figured we’d go somewhere fancy to celebrate being free of them and decide what we want to do.” Dave hums.

“I like that, nice and breezy.” You say as he slips an arm around you as you make your way towards his car.

“To new beginnings, baby.” Dave jostles you slightly with a grin. “It’ll be ironic if we get together and are happy while they are miserable and don’t last a year.” He pulls his arm from around you and opens the door on the passenger side for you. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

“We will. Now that you and that incredible cock have completely ruined other men for me, I'm excited to see where it goes.” You giggle before thanking him for opening the door, “Thank you. To new beginnings.” You say as you smash your lips up against his.

Dave grins. Yes, your ex and his might have hurt you, but you are going to end up winning. He’ll make sure of it.

****

[A year later]

Life comes at you quickly. Your first date with Dave quickly became a 3rd, 4th and so on. The girls adapted quickly with their new changes and before you knew it, you were practically living with them.

He asked you to put your house up for sale and move in with him two months after your first date and a year on, life is perfect.

The sight of Dave napping comfortably on the sofa with your newborn son sleeping on his chest fills your heart. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so much more.

It turns out that your ex-husband having an affair would be the best thing that ever happened to you.

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #dave york smut #dave york fanfiction #dave york imagine #dave york fic #dave york equalizer 2

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ficsilike-reblogged · 1 year ago

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Take On Me

Summary: What happens when the love of Bob’s life finally makes a move…the night before he deploys? Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 4k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is an entry for the 80’s Rocktober Challenge hosted by @roosterforme - I picked a-ha’s song “Take On Me.” I hope y’all enjoy! This is Bob’s side story from my Jake series, Invisible Smoke. But you don’t need to read that to read this. Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, unprotected sex, cockwarming (?)/unrealistic post-sex activities, angst (with a happy ending), being bad at feelings

Bob didn’t particularly like nights before deployment. There were the obvious reasons—being shipped out and stuck on a carrier for weeks on end wasn’t exactly the best part of his job—but the pageantry of the night before, the dress whites, the careful goodbyes, that was what he really hated.

Natasha had dragged him to the Hard Deck so he could at least say goodbye to a few friends in person since he had already video called his family. He watched Natasha pull Bradshaw out onto the deck for a quieter moment alone. It was about time they got together. Bob had been one of the few who knew about her feelings for their fellow aviator and he had accidentally discovered that they were reciprocated a few days after the Uranium Mission. It really had been kind of ridiculous watching them dance around each other for months.

He was happy they were finally together. Really. Who wouldn’t be happy to see two of his closest friends be happy? But it really just twisted the dull knife behind his ribs that always came when Bob realized how alone he was. He didn’t have someone to say goodbye to like that.

Penny gave him another ginger ale with her usual sweet smile before he started back toward the table in the corner where he’d left his hat. He pushed through the crowd, earning a few slaps to his back and claps to his shoulders by other patrons who knew what awaited him in the morning, and settled back into his seat with a sigh. He scanned the crowd, seeing Harvard and Yale chat up two women on what looked like a bachelorette trip and then Payback and Mickey dancing with their wives near the jukebox. Payback’s wife, a stunning woman named Sidney, pulled back just enough to wipe tears from her cheeks. Payback gently knocked her hand away and finished for her before kissing her forehead. Bob turned away, feeling like he was intruding with a persistent tightness in his chest.

And his traitorous mind conjured your smiling face, bright and happy.

What Bob had with you was…nice. It was quiet and gentle and strictly platonic, right now. Bob would never understand how Hangman was the one to introduce you to him.

“Trust me, Baby on Board, you’ll love her. She’s perfect for you.”

Bob had been fully prepared to grit his teeth and bear whomever Seresin had deemed ‘perfect,’ and expected to meet an Instagram model or a gym buddy of his—not that there was anything wrong with them, they were usually lovely but just a little intense. But then you walked in.

You with your thick-rimmed glasses and soft smile and softer laugh.

While Jake bragged on your behalf, stating that you were the best CPA in the city, the only person he’d trust with his taxes, andthat Penny trusted you with the Hard Deck’s books, you fiddled nervously with the bendy straw Penny had given you in your little cup of pop.

It was Jake’s fiancée—a good friend of Bob’s who deserved the world, if anyone asked him—who quieted the man’s well-meaning rant with a hand on his arm. “I think he gets it. She is amazing.” The other woman winked and earned a soft smile from you before turning back toward her fiancé. “But you still owe me a game of pool, yeah?”

As the couple walked away, leaving you and Bob alone, your (beautiful) eyes tracked up to meet his gaze. Your smile was small and soft and you drummed your manicured nails against the plastic cup in your grip. “It’s nice to meet you.”

And that was it, really. You had asked Bob if he knew how to play pool and then he offered to teach you. That led to soft giggles and missed trick shots and then quiet conversations about your lives and phone numbers exchanged before you parted ways for the night.

It was…good. Really. Even if it always teetered on the edge of becoming something more but never did.

Bob liked your good morning texts and the way you insisted on paying for brunch every time you invited him to try a new restaurant that just opened up. He liked that you didn’t mind helping him get the rest of the Daggers home from the Hard Deck if they had one drink too many. He liked that the people he trusted with his life liked you.

He…liked you. And he knew it was getting dangerously close to a different L word and that just had his mind circling back to how much he hated nights before deployments. You weren’t here. Bob didn’t blame you, of course. One of your more “difficult” clients had needed your attention immediately and had flown you out to Los Angeles about a week ago and Bob hadn’t wanted to disturb you with the news of the deployment. He’d asked Jake’s fiancée to tell you when you got back into town and he had an email queued up to be sent to you, too, crossing his fingers that he’d be able to still talk with you when you both had a moment to spare.

His gaze once again roamed around the bustling bar and unintentionally picked out all the couples. Dammit. Maybe, he just needed to get some sleep. He needed to be on the carrier early tomorrow morning anyway and wallowing in self pity wasn’t really a good waste of time. He finished his soda and waved to Penny and then placed a few bills on the bar to cover his tab before setting off toward the door.

This was good. He could get back to base and get some sleep before getting to the carrier just after dawn. But, as he moved around a rambunctious pair of lieutenants jockeying over their stances for darts, he nearly collided with a solid, soft body.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

Familiar hands pressed at his chest in a bid to stay upright and the scent of rose and amber immediately flooded his senses. And Bob knew immediately it was you.

Bob set his hands on your hips with a growing smile and watched the realization dawn on your face. “Bob!” A smile he could see in his dreams broke across your lips before you wrapped your arms over his shoulders in a tight hug. “I’m so happy I caught you. I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.”

It took Bob a moment to shake himself free of the shock of your arrival and gave you a smile of his own. Some higher power was laughing at him right now (or maybe it was just Seresin) because Bob thought you’d never looked more beautiful in your short dress with buttons all the way down the front and strappy heels. “I didn’t know you were back.”

Your smile widened the slightest bit and you glanced at something over his shoulder, raising one hand to wave at someone. Bob turned in time to see Jake and his fiancée both raising their glasses in his direction. They knew. They had planned this.

But, when one of your hands swept over his shoulder to rest over his happily thrumming heart, all the embarrassment and gratitude he could have expressed at that moment crumbled away. He could deal with them later (and by ‘deal with them,’ Bob meant probably buy them a round and say thank you).

“Want to get out of here?” You asked, fingers brushing over the carefully arranged pins on his chest before thumbing at one of the ornate buttons of his jacket.

Bob knew you didn’t mean it like that, despite your wandering fingers, but he still had to suck in a quick breath to steady his thoughts before smiling. “Yeah, let’s go, sweetheart.”

You were quick to drop one of your hands to his, tugging him toward the door with a soft laugh he knew so well. The night air was tinged with salt water and the barest hint of spilled beer as soon as you stepped outside and down the handful of steps onto the parking lot. You gave him another smile over your shoulder as you started, “I hope you don’t mind-”

Bob fought the urge to say something that had been on the tip of his tongue for months and instead settled for, “you have to know that I never mind.”

You laughed again and shook your head but the noise quickly stalled when your foot connected when one of the concrete parking dividers and you nearly toppled for the second time that night. Bob tightened his grip on your hand and kept you upright with a quick tug that had you stumbling forward until you collided with his chest with a soft ‘oof’ and you laughed as you tucked your face into his jacket for a moment. You had a habit of doing that, hiding your smiles in the safety of Bob’s body. His neck, his chest, his shoulders, his arms. All of them had been places for you to squish your face. He never did mind, happily accepting any sort of physical affection you would bestow. Knowing you trusted him enough to keep you safe when you felt vulnerable.

Again, Bob knew he was dangerously close to that other word.

“I swear I haven’t had a drink at all. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.” Your voice shook and Bob tried not to read too much into that either as you looked down and groaned. “Oh, maybe that’s why. My shoe’s come undone.”

Bob didn’t even blink before kneeling on the pavement and grasping at the delicate straps. He could feel the heat of your skin as he carefully threaded the strap through the buckle again and as he tugged it closed again, the pads of his fingers brushed against your ankle and you were just as soft as he imagined.

What he had not imagined was the shiver his simple touch would elicit from you. You let out a strange, stuttering breath as Bob looked up at you. Oh.

Maybe it was the growing adrenaline from the impending deployment, or maybe the way the low lights were reflecting in your eyes, or maybe it was a dawning realization that you could maybe feel the same as he did. His fingers trailed up your leg as he took his time standing, almost smirking when he felt how goosebumps raced across your skin.

Your next breath stuttered and Bob felt it against his neck as he finally stood straight and once again settled his hands on your hips.

“I um…” Your throat bobbed. “Th-thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

His position and training as a WSO had Bob picking up on minute details, but he’d always been that way. He was the kid who was delighted with a ladybug landing on his jeans when the rest of his family watched booming fireworks on the Fourth of July. So, he noticed when your eyes flickered down to his lips. You moved closer and your lips puckered.

You were going to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him.

But Bob didn’t move forward to close the distance, no matter how much he wanted to and he watched your face crumple.

“Bob?” Your voice was weak as he took a small step back; Bob didn’t let you go far and kept his hands firmly planted on your hips. He wouldn’t let you go. Not yet. “Did I do something wrong? I…I’m sorry. I thought-”

But he just shook his head, ducking his chin the slightest bit toward his chest. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart. I just want to make sure this is what you actually want and not because I’m shipping out in a few hours. Deployments make people think-”

You moved to grasp his face, trying to tilt his chin just enough to make him look at you again. There was a desperation in your gaze that let him know that you needed him to hear you, make him understand. “Bob, I can’t lie and tell you that this deployment has nothing to do with it, all right? But this is the first time you’re being sent away from me. I know these things can be dangerous. I know that. I’ve heard horror stories about…” You couldn’t even finish the thought and shook it away. Your thumbs pressed gentle arcs into his cheeks before you dropped your hold. “Let’s just get out of here, okay? We can pretend none of this happened and just go get ice cream and sit and silence and watch the water until you’re sick of me.”

“I don’t think I could ever get sick of you,” Bob said, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could even think of how that would sound to you.

An unsteady smile pushed at your mouth as you took a step backward and then another and another until you were leading him toward your car—Bob quickly redirected you toward his trusty GMC and opened the door for you with a smile of his own. The air in the truck’s cab was tense for a slow song or two, just long enough for you to squirm in your seat until Bob reached over and grabbed your hand.

He didn’t want to upset you—it wasn’t an outright rejection, not at all—he just wanted to be sure that you wanted him like he wanted you.

Bob didn’t do this. He didn’t spend the entire night talking, laughing, pretending he didn’t have to disappear for a few weeks. But with you it felt right. It felt like he should have been doing this with you for months. Years.

Ice cream was purchased at a small roadside shop and Bob pulled onto an overlook and shut off the truck, letting the dim moonlight fill the cab as you both quietly ate your sweet treat—strawberry for Bob, pistachio for you. It was calm and peaceful, a far cry from the noise of the Hard Deck, but he could feel when you started to get nervous again, curling your hands into the skirt of your dress for a moment before starting to fiddle with the cloth-covered buttons on the front.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the deployment?” You asked, and Bob could hear the trepidation in your voice. You turned in your seat to face him and Bob was quick to do the same and you both scooted a little closer to each other on the bench seat, legs awkwardly skirting around the stick shift. “I would have come home sooner.”

But Bob just shook his head and felt his nose scrunch as he tried to pick his words carefully. He didn’t stop until he felt you trail your finger across his brow, wordlessly telling him to relax. Bob couldn’t even remember when you had started doing it, but he had savored it every time and felt his shoulders slump while he finally found the words. He carefully reached up and grasped your hand, linking your fingers together for a moment. “I don’t think I knew how to say goodbye to you.”

You searched Bob’s face and he tried not to hope too much with the look in your eyes. “Bob, I… you don’t have to have anything special to say to me. But please just say something.”

Bob didn’t even realize he was moving until his lips were firm against yours, almost unyielding. Your glasses clicked together as his hand anchored itself on the back of your neck and tilted your face just so but neither of you seemed to mind. He could feel your smile against his mouth.

Your fingers sunk into his hair as his tongue slid against the seam of your lips. He’d give you anything anything anything, and this was no different. All his thoughts about the deployment, about what waited for him in the morning, flew out the window as he hauled you closer, pulling you onto his lap. The warmth of you immediately sank through the heavy fabric of his trousers and he groaned. The noise earned him a breathy sigh against his mouth and your hips sinking and rocking against his again.

“I wanted to do this right. I wanted to do this right with you,” Bob murmured against your mouth as his fingers swiftly undid the buttons down the front of your dress.

“You are,” you said, tone breathy and bordering on needy. “I promise you are. This feels right. Everything feels right with you.”

Bob’s fingers stalled and his bright blue eyes moved up your face until they were boring into yours. “Sweetheart…”

“I mean it,” you said. “Everything feels right with you.”

It might have been less of a shock for Bob if someone had hit him in the chest with a baseball bat. Something whispered at the back of his mind to tell you, to tell you now and make sure you were saying what he thought and hoped you were saying. But he didn’t. Because wouldn’t that be cruel? To draw that out of you before leaving for weeks at a time with no firm promise to return to you? So, instead he kissed you again and tried to press into his mind the way you felt against his mouth as he pushed your dress from your shoulders. He moved to press you down across the bench seat and licked at the thrumming pulse in your neck as he peeled the little scrap of lace down your legs and then shoved them into his pocket.

He would keep those.

Bob moved, knee knocking into the steering wheel for a moment, shoving himself between your thighs after shrugging off his jacket. He pressed a kiss to your ankle, your knee, your thigh, before nosing at your perfect hip bones.

“Bob,” you whined. “Bob, please.”

The salty tang of you was immediately addicting and Bob wrapped his arms over your thighs and dragged you closer closer closer with each flick and twist of his tongue. He could do this forever. He shouldn’t have waited this long.

Your fingers curling through his hair knocked any other thought right out of his head and all that was left was you you you and how your thighs clamped over his ears as you came.

When your legs stopped shaking enough, you hooked your hands behind his head and hauled him up, pressing a rushed, sloppy, perfect kiss against his mouth. Bob’s hands skimmed over the soft skin of your thighs as he settled between them, feeling your wet heat soak his skin.

“Please,” you whispered against his mouth. “Please.”

Bob’s knee hit the horn when he went to shove his trousers and briefs down and he was embarrassed only for a moment but laughed along with you as you dragged him back into your hold, kissing him sweetly as you helped him move back into the cradle of your thighs. You felt divine. Warm, wet, and tight…and perfect. And every movement felt even better. You were clawing at his back as Bob mouthed at the swells of your breasts. You were everywhere, he was everywhere, and he couldn’t get enough.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you whimpered when he raised his head again to lick into your mouth.

Faster and faster, Bob drove into you until you were shaking in his grip, sighing against his spit-slick lips and Bob was quick to follow, collapsing over you and hips rutting into yours lazily in a mindless haze until you whined against his mouth. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured as he maneuvered just enough to press up onto his forearms on either side of your head. Bob didn’t move to pull out, not just yet, enjoying your warmth for a little longer. Just a little longer.

You were beautiful. Sweaty and makeup smudged, you were gorgeous. Bob trailed a finger across your cheek, catching a tear as it slid from your eye.

“Sweetheart?” Did he hurt you? Did something happen-

“Stay with me?” Your eyes were wide and pleading as your grip tightened on his shoulders just a fraction. “Just… Can we just stay like this a little longer?”

Something in Bob’s chest twisted, almost uncomfortable, almost too close to that other word. But still, he said, “of course, sweetheart. Of course.”

The conversation that followed was soft and quiet, filled with everything and nothing, and Bob’s eyes slowly closed with the sound of your heart and the waves outside lulling him to sleep.

A noise woke Bob up some time later. It could have been a passing car or the waves against the shore, it didn’t matter, really. It was still before dawn, the sky an inky shade of blue. He turned to the side, his back protesting the slightest bit, and saw you beside him. Your mouth was parted with sleep, soft breaths escaping in deep, even intervals.

You were beautiful.

And he had to let you go.

You hardly remembered waking up and getting dressed again. But you remembered leaning out of the truck to straighten Bob’s hat atop his head. Last night had been perfect and tinged with some sort of unspoken melancholy. Why had you waited so long? “Can I…can I come with you to the carrier? Wave you off?” It was a selfish ask, but you wanted more time, just a little more to cling to before your heart leapt out from between your ribs to try to follow him out to sea. For one of the few times in your life, you knew it wasn’t better to be safe than sorry. You had to take a chance.

Bob’s unfairly pretty blue eyes nearly sparkled in the low light of dawn as he smiled at you. “Of course, sweetheart.”

The ride out to the carrier was quiet aside from Bob asking if you could drop his truck off with Bradshaw. You readily agreed and hated how your stomach twisted when he parked. The imposing behemoth of a ship loomed on the horizon and you walked beside Bob, his duffel in hand, as you weaved through the early morning crowd. He slowed to a stop a few paces away from the carrier’s ramp and turned back to you.

You watched his jaw flex, tight and wanting, and you wanted to tell him how you felt, how you had felt for months, and you could taste the words on the tip of your tongue but they crumbled to nothing when the carrier blared its horn, calling everyone in and pulling Bob’s attention for a moment.

Tears started to build at the backs of your eyes as the carrier blared its horn for a second time. You had to let him go. You just learned what it was like to have him, and you had to let him go.

Bob turned back to you and you recognized the determined set of his jaw as he reached for you after dropping his bag at his feet. His hands smoothed up your arms and hooked at the back of your neck, thumb pressing an incessant pressure at the hinge of your jaw. You could have melted then, you were puddy in his hold and it almost made it worse. “I shouldn’t ask you this. It’s selfish and cruel-”

“Ask me anyway,” you said, the syllables cracking in your throat.

“Will you be here when I get back? Will you wait for me? I know it is a lot to ask, to take me on and-”

Those damn tears came back and you surged forward to press your lips to his again. The kiss was unhurried and uncoordinated but you couldn’t pull away. Not just yet. Not until your lungs burned and your cheeks felt cold. “I’ve been waiting for you for months. What’s a few weeks more?”

Bob’s smile was small but you knew you’d remember it for the rest of your life. He kissed you, soft and breathless, before scooping up his duffel again and walking backward toward the ramp. He was keeping his eyes on you. And you wouldn’t look away. Not now.

In eight weeks’ time, you’d be back here, ready and waiting. And you knew he’d come home. To you.

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!

#Bob Floyd x reader #robert Bob Floyd x reader #bob x reader #robert Bob Floyd fic #tgm fic #tgm #female reader #top gun rocktober

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ilysungho · 1 month ago

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hiii... can u do 5, 50, and 75 with soft dom sungho? ty!

a/n: i think we all needed soft sungho! wc: 1.2k contains: soft dom!sungho x sub!reader, husband!sungho x wife!reader, first night married, he’s a sweetheart, a lot of nicknames, body worship, fingering, penetration (p in v), edging, implied unprotected sex (don’t!), lowercase intended, prompts italicized

your joyous day had finally come to an end, with you and your newly titled husband, sungho, bidding farewell to the guests from your wedding reception. today had been one of the most magical days of both of your lives.

after a while, you both arrived at your shared place. he told his best friends, jaehyun, sungho, riwoo, taesan, and woonhak, to decorate your house, but even he didn’t know what he was going to walk into. carrying you bridal style, you both entered the bedroom, covered in roses and candles. “so… my wife?”

“yes, my husband?” you both giggled while he sat you up on the bed. he got on the ground on his knees and removed your heels carefully. getting up, he leaned against you, removing your necklace and heavy jewelry, kissing everywhere all of it touched you. after, he untied the lace on the back of your dress, loosening it up to remove it for you.

“you’re my princess, and i’m so glad i can be your prince. let me take care of you, yeah? i’ll do the work. all you have to do is be pretty for me, ok?”

“ok my prince.” you answered, his hands coming to cup your face and kissing you with so much love. behind the love was also incredible passion. in your 5 years of dating, sungho never made you feel short of loved. he always made sure you were taken care of and gave you everything you deserved and more. it was his way of showing his love to you, to make you feel like you’re his universe.

you also gave everything to the man kissing you. you made sure to give him just as much as you received, often buying him gifts and cooking for him. if there was anything that needed to be done, you always stepped up first. you made sure he knew that he was also your universe.

you both were perfect for each other in every way, so the marriage between the two of you was the perfect step to take to commit yourselves to each other in more ways than dating could.

as you both kissed, you helped your now husband unbutton his shirt. feeling his built muscles under his clothes was one of your favorite things to do, and sungho loved it just as much: to know that your touch is so full of love for him. he couldn’t help but smile as you felt his arms, his hand snaking onto your back as he laid you down on the bed softly.

he put so much care into every action he performed with you. every couple minutes of kisses, he would let go to just stare at your face with a soft smile while tucking a few pieces of hair behind your ear. you don’t know what you did to deserve someone like him but you’re glad that he’s yours and no one else’s.

“you know… i’m so glad you’re mine. and now i get to call you mine forever.”

“likewise, sweetheart. can i do something to show you so?” your nods and smile let him proceed to kissing you once again, now on your cheeks, forehead, and nose, before going onto your soft neck. he paid attention to the way your breath hitched feeling his lips in the all too familiar spot. to the way you moved your hands to his hair. to the way you mumbled softly so good….

he continued kisses all the way down your body, telling sweet words of praise and love to you. you both had shared what you wanted your first night married to look like a long time ago. just a night full of love and making love with your forever only. a perfect night for the two of you to show how deeply you love one another.

as he reached your nipples, he used his fingers to softly touch one, kissing the other. he engulfed it into his mouth, making you leave sounds of blissful sweetness. his hands and mouth swapped places every so often, making sure you felt all his love.

moving down once again, his hands stayed touching and softly pinching your hard buds. his kisses fell onto your stomach, once again telling you how beautiful you are, a goddess really. you were so used to him calling you so by so many names, but this one always leaves you flattered.

“baby, what about you? i wanna make you feel g-” you stopped just then when you felt sungho kiss your sensitive clit.

“we can worry about me later. i want to focus on you right now angel.” he licked your arousal, staring at your eyes while his face was buried in between your thighs. this position meant he wanted to give to you only because that’s what will help him best too so you just shut your mouth and let him do as he pleases.

he licked around your folds, softly sucking your bundle of nerves at times to make you reach your edge. his expert tongue got joined by his skilled fingers, inserting one inside of you to stretch your walls out for him. he worked you in and out while keeping you moaning at every movement.

as he let go of your wet folds, sungho reached over to the nightstand to grab a condom. putting it on after removing the rest of his clothes, he aligned himself with your ready and aching hole for him.

“tell me if it hurts, okay?”

“mhmm…” his lips crashed with yours as he entered you. the initial pain got replaced with pleasure all too soon as he began moving in you, making sure you’ve adjusted before beginning. this wasn’t a new position, but the new title made it feel so new.

he kept murmuring whispers of praise in between kisses, while you just stared at his eyes and blushed intensely. every word uttered by him was followed by a deep and slow thrust into you, sending jolts of pleasure into your veins. your hold on him tightened, leading to scratching his canvas of a back. and as your fingernails painted his back, so was your cum about to around him. you felt close, signaling your husband with a whispered voice.

“baby can you hold onto it? i want us to come together please.” his exasperated voice showed signs of him feeling close too. you held onto your own release as he kept hitting your spot perfectly every time with a quickened pace to his once slowed one.

with every thrust into you, you tried your hardest to hold it in. you were edging yourself like never before.

“now baby…” euphoria coursed through your veins as you both came at the same time. his groans mixed with your moans as your lips melted into each other once again. he held you close as you twitched under him from cumming so much. as you came down from your high, you both looked into each others’ eyes and leaned your foreheads together. i love you-s accompanied with soft smiles and kisses continued on until you spoke.

“next time… you don’t have to put the condom on. just saying, now that we’re married.” you giggled as his eyes turned dark. he didn’t expect these words to come from you but now he needed you in every single way he couldn’t have you before.

“are you ready for another round then, my wife?”

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atleastpleasetelephone · 1 month ago

Text

Little Darling

Chapter 11 - The mirror is a trap that saves

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.

Word count: 3.2K

TWs: Elvis is a little dominant, use of daddy in a sexual context, bit of dollification, objectification if you squint, possessive kink, praise kink, p in v sex.

It's Christmas eve, and Elvis scratches his bearded chin as he walks arm in arm with Tegan and their dog through the snowy park. He's grown a beard to make it easier for him to dress up as Santa for the grandkids, but he started too late and it's itchy. Tegan told him that the itchy stage would finish soon (her ex had a beard) but he's preoccupied by how annoying it is right now. The dog is a chow cross that they chose together at a rescue centre, as soon as Elvis found out that Tegan loved dogs as much as him. She made the mistake of telling him about the Welsh language band Ffa Coffi Pawb - literally meaning “everyone's coffee beans”, but pronounced fah-koff-ee pow-b which made it sound a lot like fuck off everyone, in a combination of Welsh and English - Wenglish - and he decided that was the perfect name for their new furry friend. In the end he went for Ffa Coffi, which Tegan thinks doesn't really work as a pun, but Elvis enjoys saying regardless. Tegan also doesn't think a dog can be called Coffee Beans (bean would be fine, but the plural just seems crazy) but mostly they just shout “COFFI!” which works in either language. The most important thing is that Coffi is laid back and will barely chase after a ball, never mind other people's pets. And he puts up with Tegan cuddling him all the time without ever trying to lick her face. Sometimes when Elvis sees them curled up on the sofa together he wonders if he will ever get a look in.

The beard and the fact that he’s wrapped up for the cold mean that barely anyone recognises Elvis, and so they’ve come out without any kind of back up. Elvis feels more and more comfortable doing that nowadays, happy to just walk around with Tegan and Coffi. They don’t see the paps often in the cold, and when they do they just do their best to ignore them. As they make their way through the snow, he’s reminded of the day at the zoo, when they definitely did have to have back up.

“Hey, I bet if we went ta the zoo today no-one would bother us.”

Tegan snorts. “And all the animals would probably be indoors by the fire with a cocoa.”

“Cocoa?”

“Oh, hot chocolate.”

“Ah.”

They carry on for a while in silence, then Elvis pipes up again.

“I’m sorry about that day, honey. Ya didn’t deserve bein’ dragged through the press like ya were.”

Her smile is slight as she remembers the horrible events of the day after. “Neither did you.”

Stopping, he turns to her and looks into her face seriously. “Ya didn’t deserve the way I treated ya, either.”

Her eyes dart around, awkwardly, and she eventually settles on looking down at Coffi. “Well, that was a while ago, now, ‘raur. Things have been much better since then.”

Taking his hands out of his pockets, he reaches for hers to hold them. The dog lead slips onto her wrist and Coffi sits down between them, looking up patiently.

“Ya know yer beautiful, right?”

She frowns a little, still looking at the dog. “I’m not sure what that’s got to do with… before.”

He steps towards her and the dog whines a little at being hemmed in between them.

“Will ya look at me, pretty girl?”

Her nose wrinkles and she looks up cautiously. “We’ve been through this, ‘raur. I’m almost 40 years old.”

“Alright then. Look at me when I’m talking to ya, woman.”

There’s a trace of a smile on her face as he moves his hand to her cheek and pulls her towards him, making her stagger forwards for balance as he crashes his lips against hers.

“Mmm. ‘Raur,” she chides, a blush rising on her face as he pulls back.

“Can’t get ya ta listen otherwise, can I?” He grumbles, letting out a low whistle and shaking his head. “Now I’ve got yer attention, will ya answer me?”

“About what?”

Elvis growls deep in his throat, making Coffi yelp in surprise. “I want ya ta tell me yer beautiful.”

“Elvis…”

“No.” The word is sharp and the force of it makes her tremble. “Don’t Elvis me. Tell me what I want ta hear.”

“I guess I look better now I've had my hair and nails done…”

Nudging the dog out of the way with his foot, Elvis closes the gap between them and puts his lips to Tegan’s ear.

“Well if yer not gonna tell me now I'll haveta fuck it outta ya later.” His voice is low and gravelly and she trembles again at the pitch and the force of the words. She can feel a blush rising on her cheeks and finds her thighs rubbing together almost of their own accord. “Hm?” He prompts, not moving his mouth from her ear.

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispers back.

He's half-tempted to reply “yes, Daddy, what?” but he decides not to push it outdoors, and responds with a quick “good” instead. He steps back and takes the dog lead off Tegan, gently tugging Coffi towards him.

“Time ta head back.”

They turn and walk back towards the car, Tegan’s stomach flipping as the words he’d just said run through her mind over and over again. As well as the consistent erections, the pills had given Elvis a little more confidence, but he’d never said anything like that outside of the bedroom, let alone outside of the house. On the drive home they make small talk about when they’re going to put out the presents, and what they’ve bought for other people, but Tegan’s brain keeps short-circuiting to him telling her he’s going to fuck it out of her. She watches him carry on doing normal, everyday things when they’re back at Graceland. Feeding the dog, making coffee.

“Elvis?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Can I have a kiss?”

He moves to put his arms around her, pulling her in close. “Of course ya can.”

His lips are soft and the kiss is gentle. Tegan feels herself relax. She smiles as he pulls back.

“Thanks.”

He chuckles softly. “Mmm. No problem.” Stroking her cheek, he continues, “you lookin’ forward to dressin’ up as Mrs Claus later? Puttin’ on that little outfit I bought ya?”

She looks at his expression for a moment and then shakes her head a little. “It’s obscene, isn’t it?”

He pretends to look offended. “Obscene? Somethin’ I bought fer ya?” When she carries on staring at him with one raised eyebrow he relents. “Okay, yeah, so it’s a little short. Gotta show off my girl’s legs though, haven’t I?”

“To who?!”

“Ah. Okay, ya got me there.” He ponders the question for a moment. “Alright. It’s self-gratification. Jus’ wanna see ‘em myself.”

She keeps shaking her head but they’re both giggling and then they’re kissing again. Tegan hears someone clearing their throat and pulls back quickly.

“Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but I’ve got two kids demanding lunch.” Lisa-Marie smiles at them both.

“Chefs are on their way in,” Elvis explains, looking at his watch. “Ten minutes or so an’ then they’ll be makin’ somethin’. Kids’ll have ta be patient.”

The impatient children appear as if they’ve been summoned by the conversation, and Elvis suggests they all go down to the den and hang out there instead. Ben follows his sister, explaining some comic book or other that he’s been reading to her in painstaking detail, whilst she pulls the most bored face Tegan thinks she’s ever seen. Elvis settles into an armchair and pulls his girlfriend into his lap. One arm rests around her waist whilst his other hand brushes her hair away from her neck to give him easy access to press kisses to it every so often. He always seems to know when she needs reassurance.

“You two are so sweet together,” Lisa remarks.

“Ah, I’m lucky she puts up with me,” Elvis replies, his fingers combing through Tegan’s hair. “She’s got the patience of a saint.”

“Don’t talk about me as though I’m not here,” Tegan complains.

Lisa starts saying something about him being a pain in the ass, but Tegan can barely hear it because his lips are next to her ear again, murmuring, “think ya like it when I do that, honey.” Her pussy tingles at the words and she swallows, thickly. Managing after what seems like minutes to tune back into the conversation, only to hear Elvis saying,

“She’s way too good fer me, and far too pretty.”

The tingling between her legs intensifies. She does like it. She likes it way too much. Fuck. She tries to calm down as she hears Lisa ask her a question to draw her back into the conversation.

“Oh well, I mean he is better than me at karate, I suppose…”

They bounce back and forth and she starts to feel herself relax. But Elvis had felt the way she’d tensed and seen the blush on her face. He certainly hasn’t lost his touch, when it comes to knowing what women like, he thinks. Not at all.

***

Tegan looks at herself in the mirror, turning to the side and tugging at the hem of her dress a little. She’d been right when she accused Elvis of buying her an obscene costume - it only just covers her ass. At least it’s not skin tight, she muses. But there’s no way she’s bending over in it in the best of the house. She pulls the santa hat onto her head and laughs at her reflection. If someone had told her a year ago that she’d be in one of the bedrooms in Graceland, wearing a skimpy Mrs Claus outfit and getting ready to arrange presents underneath the Christmas tree (a task that was now definitely seeming impossible to do without flashing someone) she’d have laughed them out of town. And yet, here she is.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the appearance of Elvis in his own Santa costume. She turns and runs daintily towards him, the red sparkly heels he’d bought her slowing her down a little. Throwing her arms around his neck she grins as his hands grip her lower back.

“You look very handsome as Father Christmas.”

He chuckles. “I look like an old man in a Santa costume, honey.”

“You look handsome,” she tells him firmly, and he leans down to kiss her with a smile.

“Father Christmas,” he teases, doing a bad impression of her accent.

She sniggers. “Daddy Christmas.”

His hand reaches down to squeeze her ass. “Yeah, ya can call me that if ya want.”

They both giggle a little before he insists on looking at her properly in her outfit, twirling her around and making approving noises.

“You’ve outdone yourself here, Presley,” he says, to himself.

She can’t help smiling, despite the ridiculousness of the situation. He lets out a sharp breath and then shakes his head quickly as if to dispel the dirty thoughts.

“Right, let’s get these gifts done.”

He gives her a quick slap on the ass and she squeals. “Elvis!”

“Thought it was Daddy Christmas,” he replies, one eyebrow raised and a little smile playing on his lips.

“You are incorrigible.”

“You are incorrigible, Daddy Christmas.”

Tegan doubles over laughing at that, which Elvis particularly enjoys given the length of her skirt and the lacey panties he’d bought her to wear with her outfit.

“I swear these pills have made you worse.”

“Ya won’t learn, will ya? Call me by my name or I’ll have to put ya over my knee and we’ll never get these gifts done.”

Managing eventually to keep a straight face, she puts her arms back around his neck and looks up into his face.

“Sorry, Daddy Christmas,” she coos. “I promise I’ll be a good girl. I don’t want to miss out on my presents.”

“I’ll definitely be givin’ ya somethin’ later if yer good,” he teases back.

After more giggling, nose scrunching and forehead kisses, they eventually untangle themselves and head downstairs to arrange the presents, fetching them from outside of bedroom doors and piling them up underneath the tree. They fill the kids’ stockings and Elvis eats the cookie left out for Santa, leaving the glass of sherry to Tegan, since she’d insisted on it. Much to her relief, no-one comes out to see them at work so she doesn’t have to worry about her modesty too much. It’s still good to be in Elvis’ room afterwards, especially when he tells her he has some gifts to give her now.

“Don’t think this is somethin’ everyone needs ta see,” he explains, handing her a beautifully wrapped package. “An’ the other one,” he gestures at the box next to her on the bed, “is somethin’ I want ya wearin’ tomorrow.”

“Which one first?”

He taps the package in her hand. “That one.”

She unwraps it carefully, then immediately bursts out laughing. It’s not just one present - it’s a set of three pairs of panties with ELVIS embroidered on the back in silver script.

“Oh my God! Did you have these made?!”

He nods, grinning a little bashfully. “Thought you might like ‘em. Ya can wear a pair tomorrow under that dress I bought ya.”

Elvis had bought her yet another gold dress, which he somehow hadn’t classed as a Christmas present, having given it to her earlier in the week. She thinks she ought to be overwhelmed by all the presents, and she’s certainly nervous to see his reaction to what she’s bought him, but every time he produces another one she’s filled with a kind of warm joy. He loves giving and she loves receiving. They’re a match made in heaven.

She smirks and once she’s finished looking at the panties she reaches for the next present. Under the wrapping paper is a beautiful velvet box, and inside the box is…

“Oh ‘raur!!” She exclaims, very carefully lifting the tiara out of the box. It’s gold and covered in diamonds and she hates to think how much money it must have cost. “Oh cariad, it’s beautiful.”

“Put it on, honey.”

She pushes the santa hat off her head as she gets up and walks over to the full-length mirror. Carefully replacing the hat with the tiara, she fiddles with her hair and turns her head from side to side, looking at the stones sparkling in the light. Elvis comes up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her temple.

“My beautiful Queenie.”

She blushes and looks down. “Oh ‘raur. It’s too much.”

“Uh-uh. Nothin’ too much f’my Queenie.”

“Thank you. I love it.”

He kisses her cheek this time and his eyes lock with hers in the mirror. “Let’s see ya in it and those panties, then.”

She spins around in his arms, her arms reaching around his neck. “Am I just some kind of naughty fashion show for you?”

“Yep,” he replies, patting her ass. “Off ya go now. Do as yer told.”

Part of her can’t believe she’s just going along with this, going into the en suite to take her dress and underwear off, and put the new panties on. She hadn’t thought that being with Elvis would be like being his little doll sometimes, and she also hadn’t thought that she’d like it so much. She opens the door slowly, then steps back into the bedroom. Elvis is still fully-clothed, sitting on his bed waiting for her. As soon as he spots her, looking a little shy only a few steps into the room, he beckons her over.

“C’mere. That’s it. Spin round fer me. Mmmm. Lookin’ good, Tegan bach.”

Once she’s finished with being paraded around in a circle for the second time that evening, Tegan gets onto Elvis’ lap. She much prefers being close to him like this to being made to strut about like a catwalk model, and she presses herself up against him, enjoying the feeling of her naked skin against his soft, almost furry suit. His hands rub up and down her back, kissing her deeply as she rolls her hips against him.

“Ya gonna tell me what I want ta hear yet?” He murmurs in her ear.

“Mmm. No. Think you promised something about fucking it out of me.”

He hums and pulls his belt off, before reaching into the pants of his suit and pulling his dick out. “Sit on it fer me, honey.”

She moves to take her panties off and one of his hands grips her arm. He shakes his head. “Keep ‘em on. Jus’ move ‘em to the side.”

Moaning, she slowly eases him inside her until she’s full, sitting on his lap, her head against his shoulder, panting.

“Good girl. Want ya ta remember who ya belong to.”

“I couldn’t…forget… Elvis.”

“Mmmm. Yer all mine.”

She tries to steady her breathing, still leaning heavily against him.

“Okay, baby?” He asks, softly, when she still doesn’t move.

“Mmm. Yes. Fuck.”

“This enough fer ya?”

She smiles against him. “I was promised a fuck.”

He smiles back, thinking how much he loves her in this moment. His hands move to grip her hips and he uses them to move her, slowly at first and then gathering pace. The tiara slips and she quickly removes it, setting it safely on the bedside table.

“Now?” He asks, pulling her up and slamming her back down on him, hard.

She whines. “I… oh… fuck…”

“That’s not it, honey.”

“I… oh, fine! I’m beautiful! I’m… fuck…” she forces the words out and at around the same time her orgasm hits her with the force of a speeding truck.

“Yes ya fuckin’ are,” he replies, through gritted teeth as he feels her squeezing him. His hips buck a few times and then he’s cumming inside her too.

She falls down against him like a ragdoll, puffing and panting. Once he's managed to get his santa suit off he pulls her back into his arms. They lie together for a while, basking in the glow of their orgasms. Tegan starts to think about the next day, and who will be arriving when, her brain lazily trying to figure out logistics. They chat about it for a while, Elvis reassuring her that she doesn’t have to worry, he’s already planned it all.

“So that’s everyone, I think.”

“Sure you haven’t missed anyone?”

“Oh, yeah. Jerry will be comin’. On his own, though. Wife left ‘im. Thought he might want company.”

“Who’s Jerry?”

“Friend a mine from before. Lives in LA now. Pretty boy, ‘bout seven years younger ‘an me.”

“You didn’t say.”

“Musta forgot, honey. Ya’ll like ‘im. Everyone likes Jerry.”

“Did you tell him about me?”

“‘Course I did, honey. He’s lookin’ forward ta meetin’ ya.”

Tegan thinks she’s looking forward to meeting him too, for some reason she can’t quite define. They carry on talking until Elvis starts to drift off, and so Tegan extracts herself from his arms and gets more comfortable. Imagining Graceland on Christmas morning, bustling with life and joy until she falls asleep too.

***

Part 12

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis presely smut #elvis imagine #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #bde #big daddy elvis #old man elvis

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avonlady42 · 24 days ago

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2024 in Review

After getting a taste of my first bang last year, I may have went a little overboard this year. I posted 15 fics this year, most of which were part of a bang or a gift.

Yes, Master Dmitri

This was my first attempt at BDSM and I was honored to be able to add an art piece from @hawkland as part of the Ficfacer$ charity auction.

Summary:

Dean Winchester thought he had the perfect life until his world changes when his wife Lisa gives birth, and a complication arises that claims her life. Dean grieves while trying to raise his son, Ben, as a single parent and his brother convinces him to get out of the house for some time alone. He stumbles across Purgatory, a club that takes him into the world of BDSM and becomes a sub to a Russian Dom named Dmitri. He keeps his new life secret from his family and frequents the club for five years, trying his best not to fall in love with his dom.

Castiel Novak lived a simple life and thought he would be married by the time he reached 35, but had not found the man of his dreams yet. He taught kindergarten during the day, but by night, he was the most popular dom at Purgatory where he carried the persona of a Russian named Dmitri with an accent to go with it. For five years he has a regular sub named Michael and he tries his hardest not to fall for the man, but he can picture a future with him.

Then one day, five years after Michael and Dmitri meet, Dean walks into Castiel’s classroom as his son starts his first day of Kindergarten and everything suddenly changes for both men.

An Unexpected Encounter

My submission for the 2024 round of DCRB. I was able to claim artwork by @aceriee-art which can be found embedded in the fic.

Summary:

Dean became Sam’s guardian at the age of 18 when their parents died in a car crash. Feeling responsible for his brother becoming an orphan, Dean works two jobs to save for college and he frequents the local gay bar for the occasional one-night stand, feeling as though he doesn’t deserve a relationship. When he hooks up with and then ghosts Castiel, not feeling worthy of him and needing to be there for his brother, he has no idea that he would end up running into Castiel at Sam’s parent-teacher conference. That’s what happens though when you unknowingly hook up with your brother’s English teacher.

A Hunter and his Machete

This was a result of a prompt in the Profound Bond Discord Server

Summary:

Dean had forgotten all about his high school friend since he had lost touch with him over the years, so imagine his surprise when he gets a message from him that Dean left a machete at his house. He didn’t even know that Castiel knew about his secret life of hunting the supernatural. Either he doesn’t care or he’s a psycho because honestly who would be so carefree about letting a guy know that he left a machete at your house.

Anal Sex, 101

Just a fun fic I felt like writing for no reason at all.

Summary:

Dean was 30 years old and thought going back to school would be a good idea to give him an edge trying to navigate his uncle’s business. Unfortunately, he hadn’t realized how expensive college would be. Barely scraping by to make ends meet, he comes across an ad on the university's bulletin board looking for queer men to assist one of the professors and it offers payment. Dean isn’t completely out in the open about his sexuality, but he decides to answer the ad anyway and finds himself becoming the assistant for the instructor who teaches the online erotocism class. The guy is lucky he’s hot or Dean would have turned tail and ran the moment he realized what he had gotten himself into.

Addicted To You

This was my submission for the 5Kby5May fest this year. It was more difficult than one might think to write a story and keep it under 5K. I've written shorter stories before, but it's somehow different when you know you can't go over 5K.

Summary:

The Mark of Cain is pushing Dean further and further away from his humanity, but when Castiel heals him after a hunt and the angel’s grace silences the Mark, Dean knows he has to have more. He just hopes Castiel will give it willingly, especially when it’s more than the angel’s grace that Dean is craving.

Show Me Some Respect

This one was written as a timestamp for my Gay Chicken fic which is still to date my most read, kudo'd, and commented on fic. I had so much fun writing the gay chicken story based on the popular meme and when someone had suggested a timestamp in the comments maybe exploring them trying BDSM again, I couldn't resist and finally had time to write it.

Summary:

The B&B is in need of repairs after the roof collapses and Dean and Castiel have time to kill while they are temporarily closed. Castiel has the brilliant idea of giving BDSM another try. He just forgot to completely read the instruction manual first.

Not Just Chemistry

The idea for this story popped into my head when I had seen videos of Jensen and Misha at conventions just being absolutely unhinged, so I turned that thought into a Destiel fic and came up with this idea that what if it was all fake and they are only pretending to be friends for publicity.

Summary:

Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak are the stars of hit t.v. show Not Natural. They play husbands, Michael and Jimmy who are hunters of the Supernatural and they are number one in the nation. They have amazing chemistry, and their fans love them. They light up the room at every convention they attend for their fans and there are even rumors they are together in real life. The only problem is they can’t stand each other and it’s all an act for publicity. The people who are in on the secret don’t understand how two people who have such great chemistry on and off camera can dislike each other so much. The question is, will they be able to get Dean and Cas to see that they are actually in love with each other or will they continue to be stubborn.

Make A Wish

This fic was the first in many of my new obsession with joining bangs. It was my entry for the 2024 round of the Dadstiel Mini Bang. I've had this story in my prompt list for awhile now and I had been thinking a lot of my mom this year who passed away from pancreatic cancer 12 years ago, so some of my writing this year reflects on my emotions of missing her. Even though she didn't have a happy ending, this story does. I was also thrilled that I got to work with @seidenapfel for this who did some amazing art which is embedded in the fic.

Summary:

Castiel Novak’s son, Jack, is battling with a leukemia diagnosis and the only chance he has of recovering isn’t covered by insurance and Castiel is out of options to save him. With all hope lost he reaches out to the Make A Wish foundation to fulfill his son’s wish of meeting his favorite actor, Dean Winchester, who plays Batman. Then, an anonymous donation for Jack to be placed into the clinical trial to cure his leukemia is made and he ends up pulling through. Castiel will forever be indebted to this kind stranger who gave him the gift of his son back, even if he might never be able to discover who it is.

The Stakes Are High

My submission for the 2024 round of the Taylor Swift Bang. The song I based the story off of was Ours. It was the end of the music video that put the idea in my head. I may or may not have used my own experience going through basic training in the story. I was paired with @mellow-memuries who's lovely artwork can be found embedded in the story.

Summary:

Dean has served in the Army for the past 10 years and is in his 2nd year of a 2 year detail as a Drill Sergeant. He loves what he does; the only problem is that he’s gay, and the military has a strict Don’t Ask Don’t Tell Policy. He’s able to keep his life secret until the guy he had sex with in the bathroom of a gay club a couple weeks back ends up being in the next class of his recruits. Unable to hide the attraction they have for each other, they forge a secret 10 year relationship until the Policy is lifted and they can finally live their truth in the open.

Risk It All

This is my story for the 2024 round of the Destiel Soulmate Bang. I've never written a soulmate story before, so this was a fun one to do. I had the pleasure of having my story come to life with the beautiful artwork from @thence-we-came-forth. You can see the artwork embedded in the fic.

Summary:

Dean is a skeptic when it comes to soulmates. Everyone he knows lost theirs in a tragic accident and he can’t risk the same thing happening to him. It’s better to be lonely than to have the love of your life ripped from you and be doomed to live a sad existence for the rest of your life anyway.

Castiel doesn’t put much stock into soulmates since everyone in his family has divorced theirs. What’s the point in finding the one you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with if they are just going to leave you anyway?

When Dean and Castiel meet, they fall in love at first sight, but can they both move past their issues in order to be with each other or will they continue to fight against their desires in order to protect their hearts?

Vacation Interrupted

I wasn't fast enough to claim a story for this year's Horrorfest Bang which was a reverse bang and was working on a fic without art. Then, I got lucky and was able to be a pinch hitter for one of @thestarsmakemedream-art's pieces which was on my original list that I tried to claim. This was a joy to work on and the art is embedded in the story for your viewing pleasure.

Summary:

Dean can’t remember the last time he took a vacation. Fighting monsters is basically all he’s ever known. They’ve defeated Chuck and Dean finally grew a pair and confessed his feelings and Cas reciprocated. The two of them, along with Sam and Eileen, decide to dip their toes in the sand and take a vacation since the world is relatively monster free. Or at least they thought it was until a Kraken decided to ruin their vacation and start killing people, almost taking Dean for its next victim if Castiel didn’t rescue him in time. So much for a relaxing vacation.

Eye of the Beholder

This year's BangBang was a reverse bang and I was able to claim a beautiful piece of art by @szlez. I had originally planned on a shorter fic, but just thinking of Dean in lingerie had my mind going wild and the artwork can be found embedded in the fic. I am just in awe of how beautiful it is.

Summary:

Castiel couldn’t get the vision of Dean in silky panties out of his head. He makes a trip to a lingerie store to buy Dean a gift but doesn't count on the hunter being so shy about showing Castiel how gorgeous he truly is. Castiel won’t have the man he loves being unsure of his own body, so the angel is happy to show the hunter just how much his body deserves to be treasured.

I'm Not Living Here Without You

This was my entry for the 2024 round of DCBB. This is a story involving cancer with a happy ending, so please mind the tags before reading. I chose the title as kind of a play on words from when Dean tells Cas in Purgatory that he's not leaving there without him. I love the artwork @twinone1221 provided for my story. She captured beautifully what I was writing in the story. You can find her art embedded in the fic.

Summary:

Castiel promised Dean that they would be together forever. They met when they were just kids and they were each other’s first everything. They are happy and have an unbreakable bond that makes them the envy of everyone around them. Everything changes 15 years into their marriage when Castiel is diagnosed with cancer and the doctors aren’t very hopeful that the treatments will work. Dean is crushed and spends a lot of time in denial while trying to find a cure for his husband. Castiel knows that his dying will destroy Dean, so he fights as hard as he can to stay alive for his husband’s sake.

Ugly Sweater Conspiracy

This was a story written for the FicFacer$ charity auction through random acts. Susan was the winning bid and her prompt was a meet cute involving ugly sweaters.

Summary:

Castiel and Dean end up at the same holiday festival wearing the same Ugly Sweater after some miscommunication by their friends, Charlie and Gabriel. They end up becoming friends and develop feelings for each other, and they have Charlie and Gabriel to thank for their newfound romance.

The King and His Prince

This was my last story written this year and was part of a SPN Season Six Gift Exchange that took place during The Man Who Would Be King episode.

Summary:

Castiel is trying to open the gates of Purgatory and Dean promises to do whatever it takes to stop him. The angel is pleased to learn it involves his hands tied behind his back.

I have many more stories waiting in the wings for next year, so please subscribe to me on AO3 if you want to see what I post next.

#my fics #destiel #Dean #Cas #AO3

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elvisabutler · 1 year ago

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a pelvis and some milk walk into a bar

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley | austin butler rating: m pairing: elvis presley x reader x jerry schilling x sandy kawelo and any combo of those four you can manage word count: 4720 warnings: p in v sex ( unprotected ). foursome. double penetration. multiple orgasms. mild overstimulation. clit pinching. nipple play. marking/biting. oral ( female receiving. male receiving, implied future. ). fingering. clit play. bit of dirty talk. everyone kind of is really nebulous with their relationships in this. it's not cheating because everyone is consenting and present alright. author’s note: welcome to day 8 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, foursome with elvis presley x reader x jerry schilling x sandy kawelo. the person who requested this knows who they are and knows that i somehow cranked this out because they deserved it tonight before tomorrow. let me tell y'all this was an obscene amount of fun. i've said it once and i've said it before i do very much like writing threesomes/moresomes and this was no exception. literally when i open up requests again i can almost guarantee you that I'll probably bang it out rather quick. the title isn't quite accurate to the fic itself but no lie it's grown on me so much i couldn't bear to change it.

"Just because I've been staring at her doesn't mean I want to have sex with her, EP. I have— I have Sandy." Jerry attempts to argue against what Elvis has decided to propose in the car on the way to the studio. It's not that he hasn't thought about it, anyone with eyes has thought about having sex with you. But there's certain things you don't do when it comes to you and actively entertaining the idea that they'd ever get to have sex with you? Well that's one of those things you don't do, after all Red and George had thought about it once or twice and George had entertained it just a bit only to have Elvis bite off the DJ's head. No, Jerry knows better than to think you're even something obtainable, besides he was married and he loved his wife.

"And I have her. Milk, I'm offerin' ya a chance that all the boys'd die for and here ya are tellin' me ya ain't gonna take it," Elvis scoffs and steps just a little closer to Jerry. "My boy, if I didn't want ya touchin' her— if she didn't want ya touchin' her. I wouldn't be standin' here askin' and offerin'. Ya really gonna deny my wife her anniversary present?"

In that moment, Jerry feels the world tilt on its axis just a bit. Surely he hadn't heard his best friend of a decade say that he was being offered to his wife as an anniversary present. Jerry wishes he could say that he's entirely surprised, after all, what do you get a woman who's married to Elvis Presley? The man— while a serial womanizer, a fact Jerry still can't believe some days— is arguably what every woman wants in a man and is someone who spoils her rotten. What do you get that sort of woman? Nothing material— no, gifts have to come from the heart for a woman like her. A realization hits Jerry like a ton of bricks and he's certain it's written all over his face the moment it happens. He was the gift. He was supposed to be the gift for you. A flush of desire courses through him as the idea settles fully in his mind. You want him and were obvious enough that Elvis felt the need to ask him this and to offer him up as an option. It's not that he doesn't love Sandy but a chance to have the unattainable is a heady proposition.

"She—you're not just testing me, are you?" Tricking is what Jerry means to say, knowing fully well that it just might be something Elvis is willing to do and yet as he stares at one of— if not his best friend he sees no trace of mocking or jest in them. Only pure unadulterated honesty.

"Jer—" Elvis starts before putting his hand on the other man's shoulder. "I'd joke and tease and test anyone else wit' this. Not you. The missus would kill me if I tried. Both of 'em maybe, cause boy she is capable of whipping your woman into a damn frenzy I don't wanna be on the end of. Bein' completely honest. She— Told her whatever she wanted I'd get. And she came up to me with *that*. I'd be offended if she didn't remind me 'm her husband and that she might like ya and find ya attractive but she's married to me."

There's a few words on the tip of Jerry's tongue about how Elvis can't control his own urges despite being married to you but he stops them, biting the inside of his cheek before he finds the words to speak. "So what— What exactly does she want?"

"Both of us," He answers simply, as if it's a completely normal thing to say. "Didn't press on the exact details, figured we could— uh— figure 'em out when we get to it. Might wanna have us both inside, I dunno. It's her gift, she calls the shots."

The image Elvis is painting, of you taking both of them inside you, their cocks stretching you has his pupils dilating and has his breathing shifting just that little bit earning a grin from Elvis. "You— I gotcha thinkin' 'bout it, Milk, don't I? That's you sayin' yes, ain't it?"

Jerry shakes his head as if that will clear the vision from his mind's eye only to make it worse, his mind conjuring images of your breasts in his hands and of you moaning and whimpering as his thumbs brushed against your nipples and as Elvis and him took turns sucking hickies against your neck and chest. Maybe you'd even be kissing his wife— come to think of it—

"You think she'd mind if I brought Sandy along?" Jerry asks, mildly unsure that she'd go with it and yet wanting the vision in his mind's eye to come to fruition. Nevermind that he'd still have to talk his wife into it and ask her but it never hurts to ask ahead of confirmation.

Elvis's face lights up as he leans closer and laughs. "Wouldn't be the first time she'd've kissed 'nother woman durin' somethin' like this. Don't think she would." Elvis pauses. "So I can tell her she can get her present?"

Jerry can't help the way he sighs, shutting his eyes when he answers. A part of him feels like he might regret this later. But the temptation of you and the realization that he'd be the only person in Elvis's circle who would have actually touched you and felt how you kissed and how your breasts felt in his hand and how your vagina felt gripping his cock forces that regret deep down inside his mind.

"Yeah, you can tell her."

As it turns out, Sandy was okay with going along with this. Something about how she could keep an eye on the two of them and make sure that you were safe. Not that she truly thought either one of them would hurt you but in the heat of the moment she knows Jerry can be passionate and you've borne the marks of Elvis's own passion more times than she cares to count. You are her friend she'd never live with herself if she didn't at least make sure this ended well for everyone involved.

Truthfully, that's why you go to her first and pull her in for a kiss. The two of you had talked about this ahead of time, you wanted your respective husbands inside of you but if she was going to be here, you wanted her to be a willing participant and you wanted her to know that you loved her or at least liked her enough to make sure she was equally as involved. It was your anniversary but Jerry is her husband. She smiles into the kiss, laughing softly when she pulls away.

"I think they're enjoying the show," she comments, wrapping her arms around your neck before turning to Elvis and Jerry. "I didn't agree to this only to have this be a show for you two. Get up."

Elvis stays sitting as Jerry stands up and moves to you without missing a single beat. You can't see him approach but you can hear his soft footsteps against the carpet and the way his breathing hitches just so the more he takes in your only clad in underwear body. Your breasts are pressed against Sandy's own but you feel her move back just a bit at the same time you feel Jerry's warm breath against your neck. His hands hands move to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing against the nipples as he places feather soft kisses against your neck.

"Just wanted to make sure she was comfortable," he defends himself against your ear even though he's talking to Sandy. "Do you feel comfortable?"

A soft whimper leaves your lips as his mouth closes around your earlobe after the word comfortable and you watch as Sandy bites her lip in a mixture of arousal and amusement. "That's a dirty trick, Jerry, you're turning her into putty before she can answer."

"That's the point," Elvis interjects from his spot on the chair. "She wanted this, told her it might be a bit much but— what my girl wants, my girl gets. Ain't that right, darlin'."

You hum in acknowledgement, your toes curling in the carpet as your nipples pebble and your breath comes out shaky. Words finally come to you as you try and move your head to kiss Jerry. "I'm more than comfortable. I— More."

The grip on your breasts tightens and you keen ever so softly even as Sandy tries to swallow it with another kiss. The sensations make it hard to focus on any one thing even as your mind tries to cling to something. What it finally settles on is the rustle of what you think is Elvis getting off the chair and moving toward you. You wait to feel him next to you, wait to have him pull you in for a kiss before you realize that he's not doing that. You can feel the heat of his body against your arm for the briefest of moments before you feel it against your leg. Sandy's moved to the side of you, breaking your kiss only to have her lips replaced with Jerry's finally claiming yours with a nip and an insistent tongue. It's then that you feel the cold bite of Elvis's rings against your overheated thighs and you whine against Jerry's lips, the temperature difference forcing you to wrench your lips away to look down at Elvis on his knees, trying to make your stance just a little wider. His grin when he looks up at you is practically wolfish as he sneaks a glance at your underwear.

"Barely been touched and ya drippin'. Makin' a mess of these panties. Wanna show 'em what they've done to you already?" His voice is practically a coo as his fingers start to play with the edges of your panties as you feel someone's hand— Sandy's maybe— ghost over your hip, sliding them down as best as they can. When they're loose enough Elvis moves his head to your cunt nuzzles through the fabric before taking the fabric in his teeth and yanking them down. Your mouth opens to say something before you feel his fingers slip inside you, curling just so in the way you enjoy. Jerry takes the opportunity to kiss you once again and kiss down your neck and to your shoulder. "He's got to make sure you can take it."

Your eyes roll in the back of your head for a moment as Jerry shifts just enough to press his cock against your now bare ass and to kiss Sandy over your shoulder. After a moment you speak. "Take what?"

An idea of what is in your mind but you don't dare voice the possibility. The thought that they're going to do that to you has your mind whirling and your cunt clenching around Elvis's fingers, earning a hiss from him. "Spoilin' the surprise, Milk."

"Warning her ahead of time, E," he counters, looking down at Elvis who in a fit of childish annoyance sticks his tongue out. Somewhere deep inside your mind you can't help but laugh at the interaction. It's helped by Sandy actually letting out a soft laugh even as she looks at you as if to say men. You try to mirror the look only to have Jerry nip at your neck and Elvis nip at your thigh.

The warring sensations of their teeth has you shutting your eyes and biting on your lip to keep quiet only for you to feel Jerry's hand move down between your legs and feel his thumb brush up against your clit gathering some of your wetness. You want to ask him what he's doing but it's then that you feel his thumb on your lip, pressing against it to try and get you to stop biting your lip. After a moment you open your lips ever so slightly and Jerry allows you to taste yourself on his thumb and starts to pull his hand away only to have you run your tongue along the entire of his thumb, sucking just slightly. You finally let it go with a small pop as you open your eyes. They flit down to Elvis where he's looking up at you with something akin to lust and love all at once. You're his wife and you're showing off just how much of a minx you are to one of his best friends and to your own best friend. Elvis's eyes stay on yours as he starts to tongue at your clit, watching the pleasure start to cross your face. He briefly looks over at Jerry before you manage to stutter out a question.

"Warning me 'bout wha? Wha are you two gonna do?" Since your mind figures it's something nefarious the boys have cooked up versus them and Sandy. Elvis's fingers curl once again as his tongue moves down, licking at your walls like a man starved. His face burrows in between your legs, focusing on his task at hand and ignoring the question, leaving Jerry to answer it. Jerry's hand moves to cup your cheek and pull you in for another kiss as Sandy runs her hands across your waist.

"Elvis thinks you can take us both at the same time. You just need to be prepared. Since we're both large." As if to emphasize the point Jerry's hips grind against your ass once more. "He's got a lot of faith in you and I do too. You want it, don't you? That's what this was about? Getting us together? Having us inside you while my wife plays with your chest? Or kisses you in between us kissing you?"

Against your neck you feel his breathing shift, almost as if the image he's painting is winding him up. One of his hands moves to your hip and tightens only to have Elvis’s grip on your thighs tighten as well. You let out a groan and one of your hands slides down your torso, waiting for one of the three of them to stop it. They don't and your hand finds purchase in Elvis’s hair, your fingers lacing themselves through his locks until you have enough you can grab and yank as his tongue practically fucks you and as his fingers— those calloused digits pinch lightly at your clit. Words fail you as he continues his onslaught and as you feel two sets of eyes watching you slowly come apart from just hit tongue and his fingers alone. Elvis starts to pull away only for you to use your grip on his hair to force his face back into your cunt. He still removes his fingers, earning a whine from you that's quietly shushed away by both Jerry and Sandy's soft whispers against your ear.

"We've got you," they whisper as you feel their fingers— when had any of their hands moved down— against your clit, alternating between his rough ones and her soft ones. It's as if you're being teased with gentle loving and rough fucking all at once and despite your best efforts, you feel your head lolling backwards against Jerry's shoulder, the coil in your lower abdomen reaching such a height of tension that you feel your legs start to shake and try to tighten by Elvis's head. You need relief and no one is giving you just enough to make it happen. A whimper leaves your lips as you pull at Elvis's hair in a way he knows well. That yank always serves as a plea, a simple request that you'd be begging for if your mouth would just work. You can feel tears of want prickling at your eyes before you feel Elvis swat away both Sandy's and Jerry's hand and replaces them with his own, his fingers taking your swollen little nub and rubbing and touching just so before he allows his mouth to cover it and suck.

You reach your peak with a silent scream at the sensation, at the final missing piece finally clicking into place. Despite your best efforts you feel your body start to tremble just a bit as Jerry wraps his arms around you and allows you to lean against him even as his cock twitches against your behind. Sandy's hand reaches to pet his cock between the two of you and you hum in delight. Your chest rises and falls with shaky breaths as Elvis finally pulls away and looks up at you on his knees with his face covered in your cum. No words are said before Jerry nuzzles at your hair and Sandy kisses your neck, her free hand pinching a nipple of yours and your hand doing the same in kind to her.

"E, you're not good at sharing." Jerry says it as a tease, even as your arousal is on his fingers, waiting to be tasted by him or his wife.

Elvis shrugs, and moves to stand up. "So?"

Feeling an argument brewing you reach out to palm Elvis's cock before wrapping your hand around it and murmuring something incoherent before shaking your head to focus. "Don't ruin my present, 'vis. I want this, not just them watchin' us. Please."

Any other time and you might cringe at how your voice sounds as you say please but it has the desired effect in making Elvis sigh and has him giving Sandy the softest of kisses while giving Jerry a look as if to say go on now, get. That look spurs something in Jerry and that arm that had been around your waist, pulling you closer to him moves away. You start to sputter out your displeasure until you realize he's turning you around and taking your hand off of Elvis's cock and putting it on his. The sensation is different, not unwelcome but different and you experimentally move your hand up and down, marveling in how there's already so much precum that your hand practically glides against his cock. His eyes don't leave yours even though he wants to commit the way your hand looks and feels against his cock but there's something in your eyes that forces him to stare at them instead. To take in the wonder and arousal so present in them that he thinks they might be the most important part of everything. If Sandy notices his preoccupation with your eyes she doesn't comment on it and instead busies herself with touching you in all the spots that have your toes curling just so against the carpet.

"Milk. Ya oughta go first. Stretch her some more so she can take it," Elvis pauses and shares a look with Sandy. "Don't have to, darlin' but ya wanna watch him sink into her? Watch her take 'im?"

Sandy allows herself a moment to think, gulping as she does before she shakes her head. "I'm okay not looking. That's— I think the three of you would enjoy that more than me." it's the first time she's expressed some hesitation with this and somehow that penetrates your brain enough that you reach out to grab your best friend's hand and squeeze. She squeezes back after a moment before looking at Jerry and nodding. "Go on, honey, show my best friend what I married."

You see a hint of a smile cross Jerry's face before he looks at you and starts to move everyone closer to a bed. There's a questioning look from everyone before he shrugs. "It'll be more comfortable? I don't want to fuck standing up." As if it's the most obvious thing in the world. It doesn't take but a moment before Jerry is lowering you onto the bed and taking his cock in his hand. It's smaller than Elvis's but not by much and you find your mouth salivating just a hair as he pumps his cock and starts to move closer and closer until the tip his brushing against your already swollen clit. Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you hear Elvis's breathing deepen and hear what sounds like several curse words leave his mouth. Every brush feels as if an electric shock is buzzing through your body from your clit and your hands move to grasp at Jerry, only to be stopped by both Sandy and Elvis. It's cruel, the way they hold your hands away from Jerry but it allows him to shush your anger and your whines. "Just watch what I'm doing."

Focus on how his cock is finally parting your folds and slipping in bit by bit. There's a slight burn but it's gone in a flash when he finally bottoms out, a groan and a grunt leaving him all at once. He doesn't move for a minute, trying to keep himself together and make sure you're alright before you finally whimper out a word. "Move."

Fuck me, you mean, but you figure he understands from the way your cunt clenches around him as you say it. You hear Sandy make a joke about Jerry being good at following directions as you start to feel Jerry's cock sliding out of you, only to have him thrust once more. Your eyes try to focus on the vision of him sliding in and out of you only to have them drift up to his face, watching as it contorts with each thrust.

"Christ, EP, this— she's— what is she doing with— Keep doing that and I'm gonna—" He starts before his eyes flit between the three of you and he starts to pull out only to have you try and move your legs to stop him. "I can't cum inside—"

Elvis stops him with a growl even as he's pumping his own cock, his thumb running across his slit and playing with his foreskin. "She needs to be drippin'. Jus' this once, Jer. We'll figure it out if anythin' happens."

A quick nod from both you and Sandy puts Jerry at ease and has him sinking into your tight heat once more. Sandy's hand moves in between your bodies and rubs at your clit when Jerry's cock doesn't brush against it. You feel your orgasm starting to creep up on you, the second one in less than an hour and you want to cry in a mix of anguish and pleasure and it seems as if it's written all of your face. Words fail you and yet they don't fail the other three even as they pant around your body, and Sandy plays with her own cunt, almost a little lazily. They can't help but tell you a simple phrase that sounds like a demand.

"Let yourself go." Three little words have you arching against Jerry, hips chasing after his cock and cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch and feel his thrusts slow down as a warmth fills you. His hands move to grip your hip, wide and unyielding as he guides you back down onto the bed and slowly pulls out, ignoring the groan of displeasure at the loss of his cock. His eyes watch his handiwork, marveling at how his cum drips out of you and how your chest heaves from the effort you've already expended. Sandy moves to pull him in for a kiss and your hand, shaky as it is moves to curl your fingers in her cunt and play with her clit a little, determined to allow her that little extra bit of fun.

As Jerry watches you see out of the corner of your eye his cock rising back to attention only for him to slip it back inside you, the pleasurable shocks starting to be almost painful before you glance at Elvis's cock. He shoots you a grin as he maneuvers you partially into Jerry's lap. Any other time and he'd make sure you were facing him but tonight he'll allow you to look at Jerry when you come for a third time. His fingers move to play with your clit, apologizing to Sandy who had moved her fingers to try and continue her own onslaught against you. The familiar calluses have a calming effect on you, allowing your body to relax around Jerry and Elvis watches as your cunt flutters around Jerry's cock for a moment before lining himself up and pushing just the tip in. All four of you let out a groan at nearly the same time, the pressure of just Elvis's tip threatening to rip you apart even if you know it's not. The adjustment takes a minute or two of no movement before he inches in bit by bit, stopping to feel you cunt clench and stopping to watch Jerry play with Sandy's cunt and your chest. When he's finally seated fully inside, he allows you to find a comfortable position between him and Jerry.

"Wanna bounce." You say, trying to say you want to bounce on their cocks, as illogical as that is. You just want the experience of it, want to prove you can do it and Jerry kisses your lips hungrily as he kneads your chest and watches Elvis suck a love bite or five onto your neck. His hands grip your hip and without much warning he moves you in the way you would if you were to bounce on their separate cocks. Elvis lets out a punched out moan and bites at your shoulder.

"Goddammit Milk, got her grippin' me tighter than she ever did. Gonna fuckin' burst in a damn minute." Elvis grunts, as he thrusts into you. His voice lowers and you hear dirty words and phrases that are for only the two of you and you find yourself burrowing your face against Jerry's shoulder in embarrassment. You can hear the squishing and squelching of your cum and Jerry's cum and everyone's precum with every thrust and you whine, wanting more and less all at once. That knot in your stomach, that spring of arousal tightens more and more with every passing thrust and every whispered word of praise and every breathy sigh you hear your best friend make.

"Doin' so good." Elvis whispers against your ear, relishing in the way you shiver. "Gonna cum a third time 'fore we fill ya completely up? Clench 'round us and milk us dry? Know ya can do it, darlin'."

"I can. Wanna do it. I can do it." You pant, words starting to slur and feeling more like gibberish as you go on repeating yourself. "Gonna feel you two for days. Love you so much."

You meaning everyone in the room, but you don't dare say the words, instead allowing that spring to snap as you hear Jerry whisper, "good girl." You come with a scream wrenched from the depths of your soul, that you swear starts a cascade of everyone cumming after you do, with Elvis being the last one to release inside you with grunts of praise and love confessions. Both you and Jerry fall on top of Elvis and Sandy flops next to the three of you as you all try to catch your breath. Your hand moves to play with Jerry's chest hair and Elvis's as Sandy strokes your hair.

After what feels like a lifetime Jerry starts to pull out of you ever so slowly, earning a low hiss from you and Elvis as your cunt is now bereft of his cock filling you. He flops next to Sandy and pulls her in for a kiss filled with love and what you think might be gratitude before setting his head on her chest. Your own head settles onto Elvis's chest, taking in the quiet thump thump thump of his heart that overwhelms your senses so completely that you nearly miss his words.

"You're stayin' here tonight. Might— might need 'nother round. Gotta make sure we're all leavin' happy tonight. 'sides, Milk, think she was droolin' for ya cock, or Sandy's beaver. You both good?"

You wait for one of them to say no and instead you get an answer that has you grinning against Elvis's chest. "Anything for her."

taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @amydarcimarie, @justrae9903, @thegettingbyp2, @stylespresleyhearted i know i am missing people but i am unsure whom at this point also apologies if this isn't your cup of tea.

#elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #jerry schilling x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #jerry schilling x you #jerry schilling x y/n #elvis presley smut #austin elvis smut #austin elvis x reader #ally's wet hot smut summer #ally writes #i know i'm missing tags but meh!!

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wannab-urs · 2 years ago

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The Spreadsheet Digest Vol. 2 - Fic Recs

Here's everything I added to the Pedro Fics Spreadsheet in the last week with my unedited ramblings attached (the notes I make immediately after reading, often unhinged).

Surrender - a Joel series by @ezrasbirdie

-> ofc daisy, grumpy/sunshine but the sunshine has depth and the grumpy isn't mean. ellie is excellent in this

Hayloft - a Joel WIP @atinylittlepain

-> dancer!reader (stripper), cute awkward joel, smutty smutty smut. reader is kind of soft!dom?

High Enough - a Joel/Dieter series by @psychedelic-ink

-> Actor!reader and your bodyguard Joel hookup with Dieter Bravo at a party and it is SO hot

Short Days, Long Nights - a Joel series by @frannyzooey

-> post outbreak!joel but it's also domestic bliss. the filth is filthy but the slow burn makes you work for it. This is gorgeous and beautiful and sweet but also so fucking hot!

What he didn't do - a Joel one shot by @joelsgreys

-> divorced!reader and Joel finally go on a date after he's been crushing on you for 10 years and it's very cute

Build Me Up Buttercup - a Joel series by me

-> You're failing Dr. Miller's architecture class and you decide to confront him about it.

Best Laid Plans - a Dieter series by @prolix-yuy

-> Dieter Bravo, legendary Hollywood playboy and a tabloid’s best friend, never thought he was worth much more than a good night to a parade of faces. Until Murch, the editor on his film, turns his world upside down. Now he’s got big plans to do the same as he drags her into the deep end of his hedonistic life. He’s got a guy for everything, but she’s got something he’s always wanted - a big enough heart (and patience) for him to fit in.

Breaking the Girl - a Joel one shot by @cinematicgf

-> Your boyfriend sucks, but you go home with him for the summer anyway. His neighbor and boss Joel Miller is decidedly not an asshole. And he's really hot.

Me-use - a Claude ;) one shot by @boliv-jenta

-> Just fucking trust me you have to read this

Toyin' with them older guys - a Joel one shot by @proxima-writes

->Hot bartender joel fucks with your sex life... and then ya know

The Babysitter - a Joel one shot by @proxima-writes

-> Babysitter reader seduces single dad joel and it is everything you could ever hope for, but it also leaves you wanting more (in the best way possible)

Push and Pull - a Joel one shot by @javiscigarette

-> Dom!Joel, pretty fuckin rough sex, but like Joel is a consent king and the aftercare is so sweet.

Deserve it - a Joel series by @fake-bleach

-> Joel's wife is cheating on him but it doesn't really matter bc you're giving him the best blowjob of his life

A Girl Walks Into A Bookshop - an Ezra series by @oonajaeadira

-> Ezra owns a bookshop and you get pulled into his store one day. This is the softest, most beautiful little story. Give yourself the gift of reading this please.

Vaya con Dio - a Dio one shot by @atinylittlepain

-> Dio thinks he has it all figured out, but you put him in his place

This Will Be The Day That I Spy - a Jack series by @oonajaeadira

-> You go on a blind date with Jack and it's full of surprises

Restoring the Roots - a Joel series by @bearsbeetsbeskar

-> Tommy and Ellie try to convince Joel to see a therapist... This is going to be really good...

A Long Day - a Javi P one shot by @jkprincess10

-> Have you ever wanted to rim Javi Peña? If not, you will after reading this

The Living Waters of Mandalore - a Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

-> Din discovers your uhhh living waters... and he's really excited about it

There's a lot of Joel on here this week... I was going through something lmao. I tried to throw in a few other guys for y'all too though.

Enjoy <3

#fic recs #The Spreadsheet Digest #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics

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foxymoxynoona · 1 year ago

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After the Applause (Ch. 6)

Header and linebreaks by @awrkives

Single Dad Jimin x Female OC

SUMMARY: Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

CW/tags: grief, prior loss of spouse/parent, comfort, explicit sex, secondhand embarrassment, sort of love triangle/web/rat's nest, fluff, cursing, dating apps, fuckboy friends, dancer Jimin, stubborn dad Jimin, stubborn pre-teen daughter, miscommunication, pining

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Hanbyul stared at the website confirmation page and felt certain she’d fucked something up. She hated this feeling, like she’d done something wrong. She’d probably attached the wrong thing, or missed some egregious typo, or maybe she sounded annoying in the cover letter. Maybe her headshot wasn’t actually a good likeness.

Thank you for submitting your resume and application. One of our recruiters will be in touch with you shortly.

She belatedly felt stupid to have done this on a Friday afternoon. Now the soonest someone would contact her would be Monday, which gave her at least forty-eight hours to convince herself that applying was the most embarrassing thing she’d ever done and that they were going to laugh at her application and print it out just so they could chuck it in the trash.

Enough of that. She steeled her resolve (to do the thing she had in fact already done) and closed her laptop and crossed her arms in an attempt to look as confident as she wanted to feel. She deserved that job. Some parts were outside of her skillset or experience but most of it was familiar. A man wouldn’t let some pieces hold him back from applying. A man would apply and convince the interviewer why he was still the best candidate for the job, and so that’s exactly what Hanbyul was going to do.

Because only about 20% of boardrooms in the country consisted of women and while Hanbyul wasn’t applying for a board position, that’s where she was reaching. Someday she was going to get there, and she’d take Sun-young –maybe by then a successful young scientist– out for coffee and say Thank you. Thank you for reminding me that we face extra challenges in the workplace and it’s our responsibility not to hold ourselves back because others will gladly do that for us.

Hanbyul would not be held back! She’d give it her all to get this new position with its better pay and improved benefits. If it didn’t work out, she’d apply for others. She’d call her parents more. She’d clean her apartment this weekend. She’d stop putting Namjoon off and finally have a truthful conversation with him –her responses had been vague and she was certain he could tell. Right now, she could do anything! Even with her trembling hands!

Because a nine-year-old had convinced her she could. Sun-young had inspired her, it was true. Her determination and serious efforts to convince her father that she ought to do science club had shamed Hanbyul into applying because she refused to be a woman who let her childhood confidence fade away. Not that she had ever been as confident as Sun-young, but it wasn’t too late to catch up! She wanted to be the kind of woman Sun-young apparently thought she was.

So she needed to do that other thing, even though she’d been dreading it: she took Hudu on a walk and called Namjoon.

He picked up on the third ring, a little breathless but cheerful sounding. Not for the first time she wished she could just text him about this but he deserved more than that. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too upset. Hopefully he wasn’t that invested. He couldn’t be, right?

“Hanbyul? Hey, I was just thinking of messaging you–”

“Hi Namjoon. I, um… I’m sorry, I have sort of disappointing, um…”

“Bad news? Are you ok?”

She cursed how sweet he sounded. The confidence after submitting her resume began to drain away. Why was she doing all these exhausting things in the same day? She had foolishly overestimated herself.

“I’m ok but… I know I haven’t been very responsive lately and I wanted to just be direct because you’re really great and you deserve that.”

“Ah.”

“I’m really sorry but I’m just…”

There was silence on the line. She appreciated that he seemed to understand without her saying much. Or maybe he was just shocked. Stunned. Heartbroken?! Oh god, she’d never broken anyone’s heart before.

“Look if you’re just really busy right now or something, I get it. I know I’m traveling for work a lot too, so…”

“It’s not that. I mean, I am busy, and I just applied for a better job so maybe I’ll get even busier but–”

“Oh congratulations, I hope it goes well–”

“Aish, don’t be so nice,” she complained. “I feel awful, Namjoon. You’re such a great guy and–”

“You don’t have to do that. I mean you don’t have to comfort me. I mean, it sucks, because you’re… but…”

She tugged Hudu to the side of the path so she could stop and squeezed her eyes shut. Why couldn’t he be an asshole about this? She’d feel so much better. She was aware that she was stupid, that this was stupid, that she was ending what could become something good with a great guy for no reason. Or at least not a good reason.

“I feel like shit.”

“It’s ok.”

“No, don’t you comfort me!”

“Can I just ask… it’s ok if you don’t feel comfortable, but I just…”

She waited, trying to ignore the way her stomach twisted and her face flushed and the blood rushed in her ears. This was awful. She didn’t have much experience calling things off with men and when she did, the guy had usually seen it coming and not cared that much anyway.

“Did I do something? Is there some… feedback you can give me or…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong at all,” she quickly insisted. And then because she felt too miserable and clung to a piece of driftwood she thought might make it better: “You’re such a great guy. To be honest, I kind of have feelings for someone else and I thought I could get over it but I can’t and you deserve better than that.”

For a moment he was silent again. She could hear his breathing; he always seemed to hold the phone so close to his mouth when he spoke.

“I get it,” he said. “That really sucks. Sorry you’re in that situation, and I hope he figures it out quick.”

“I don’t think he will but… um… thanks. And I’m really sorry, Namjoon.”

“Don’t be sorry. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“And uh, give me a call or something if you’re ever not… not feeling things for someone else, I guess.”

“I will,” she blurted out because she couldn’t think quickly enough on her feet. She ended the call before she could say anything else stupid and pressed it to her forehead. Had that gone well or not well? She couldn’t tell. She supposed it could have been worse… but she felt like she shouldn’t have mentioned having feelings for someone else. What if he somehow figured out she meant Jimin?! And it was a cop out anyway because that wasn’t the only reason. She was emotionally compromised, but she didn’t break off with Namjoon for Jimin. Jimin wasn’t an option! She just didn’t see a future right now with anyone who wasn’t… Jimin.

She felt punchy in a different way now. She practically jogged home with Hudu, which she never did and clearly confused him; he kept looking up at her like he expected someone else might be holding the leash. Once home, she dug through her cabinets looking for anything to soothe or distract but her cupboards were practically bare. Why did she have so many ingredients but no food or alcohol?

It was in this state of desperation that she received a message from Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook: hey re hitting up hongdae club aura and youre coming

Hanbyul: ok I’m in

Jeon Jungkook: wait really???

Hanbyul: did you mean to invite someone else? 😅

Jeon Jungkook: you but you never take me up on it!

Hanbyul: I don’t want to sit at home tonight

Jeon Jungkook: ok ouch didn’t need to make an excuse

Jeon Jungkook: whatever, you can’t bring me down, see you at 10

Hanbyul: TEN?!

Jeon Jungkook: why are all my friends grandpas? 10 is early! Don’t you bail on me too

Hanbyul: I’ll see you at 10 if you can actually get us in…

Jeon Jungkook: you’re cute, you’ll get us in

Hanbyul laughed. Hard. She knew she ought to be giddy for a man who looked like Jungkook to say that kind of thing, but he said that kind of thing all the time in a way that didn’t actually feel very specific anymore. Only after the date was set did she have a rush of terror realizing she had just agreed to go out clubbing with Jungkook… but it was true that she felt jittery and didn’t want to be home this evening. She felt like she could do anything! Even stay awake until 10pm to go clubbing on a Friday night!

She had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly which of Jungkook’s friends had insisted ten was too late at night. Though he’d obviously be the hottest one there, she didn’t think Jimin was into the scene –certainly not in the time she’d known him. She had absolutely no concern that Jimin would be at the club. She also felt like this might be a good chance to really establish a platonic friendship with Jungkook and quiet her slight fear that she was leading Jimin’s close friend on. You know, since she’d already slept with and ghosted then dumped another…

Her dress was short. It was the shortest dress she owned. She didn’t really own revealing clothing, nothing sexy for hitting the clubs, but she’d bought this dress that was a little too small and so that would have to do. She’d just have to remember not to raise her arms or… disaster!

She kept tugging it down as she made her way inside with no issue –Jungkook had put her “on the list” and texted her to come on in, which seemed really suspicious. He was easy to find, practically spot-lighted under a round table in a distant corner, animated and laughing with another guy and two girls.

She carried herself bravely forward, nerves instantly frazzled by the loud music, pulsing lights, and close bodies she had to weave her way through to reach them.

“Hey you didn’t bail!” Jungkook cheered when she reached his elbow. “My only true friend.”

The use of friend instantly set her at ease, though she wasn’t prepared for the names lobbied instantly at her amidst their shouts of protest at his remark: Jung Hoseok, Park Andi, and Han Chun. Years and connections were shared and she tried to keep up over the noise of the club, answering the questions as formally as a job interview. She had hoped no one noticed how nervous she was to be out with people she didn’t know, but Jungkook seemed to because he insisted on buying her a drink, which she was overwhelmed into agreeing to. Only when he returned with her cucumber something in hand did she realize there were two men and two women and Jungkook had just bought her a drink and maybe calling her his friend was all part of his plan. Even though that seemed absolutely ridiculous when both those women looked–

Oh. Hanbyul realized she had miscounted.

“I can’t even count!” she groaned and let her face fall against her hand, not even caring that the slump might smudge her makeup or transfer oil to her chin and give her acne. Who cared what a girl who couldn’t even count looked like!

“Who’s counting? You don’t need to count anything right now,” Jungkook laughed. “You want me to do some math for you?”

“He can’t do math,” Hoseok immediately ratted him out. “Don’t ask him to do math, he just picks a number.”

“That’s not true!”

Andi giggled and leaned in close to agree, “He acts like he’s thinking really hard and then confidently gives a very wrong answer.”

“He doesn’t need math, he’s so pretty,” Chun suggested, though Hanbyul couldn’t tell if her smirk at Jungkook was predatory or just teasing. She didn’t know these people, and clearly her day was beginning to take a toll, so she really shouldn’t have come out.

“Shut up, don’t blow my cover. Hanbyul’s a smarty, don’t make me look stupid,” Jungkook laughed.

Hoseok nodded and agreed, “I’ve heard about it.”

“About… me?” Hanbyul clarified, tilting her head.

“Neighbor Hanbyul,” Hoseok confirmed, which made more sense, even if it made her a little sad to be still Neighbor Hanbyul. “Sunnie talks about you a lot too.”

“Ahhh that girl.” Hanbyul grinned as a warmth blossomed in her chest. That was better, at least. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

Jungkook’s stare and slow grin made her nervous as he nodded, the others confirming. It was quickly made clear they all knew Jimin and Sun-young –Hoseok was a teacher at Jimin’s studio, Hanbyul was quickly educated on, and Chun and Andi both danced with him and Jimin. When asked if she’d ever seen Jimin dance she admitted that she hadn’t and chose not to disclose her YouTube history. There weren’t many videos on there but there were a few! Anyway, they clearly meant seen him dance live, so it wasn’t a total lie.

“We hear a lot about your son, too,” Hoseok added. Hanbyul, mid-sip of her cucumber something, promptly choked. Jungkook seemed to take great glee in pounding her on the back.

“My what?”

“Hudu?”

“He’s a dog!”

“A dog can be a son!” Hoseok laughed with the rest of the table. He smiled with his whole face and it reminded her so much of Jimin she could almost believe they were related.

“Honestly a dog is the best son,” Andi insisted. “Like, I love Sunnie with my whole heart, but I don’t want kids of my own. I’ve got a cat and I want a dog too but I don’t think I’m tough enough to walk one in the winter.”

“You’re not tough enough,” Jungkook agreed; Andi dipped her fingers into her glass and flicked the droplets his direction.

“I would die for my dog,” Chun announced. “I can never have kids while he’s alive, it wouldn’t be fair to him.”

Hoseok sighed and admitted, “My dog still lives with my parents.”

“It’s their dog,” Jungkook snorted.

“It was my dog but I couldn’t have him with me at university housing when I was younger, and they were all so attached by the time I moved out on my own so– but we could get a dog,” he said, pouting his lips in Jungkook’s direction as if it all came down to his choice.

“I want a dog,” Jungkook agreed.

“Well fuck, let’s get a dog! Woah, but is it a betrayal of Mickey, that’s what I’m worried about…” Hoseok sighed and slumped.

Hanbyul murmured sympathetically and sipped her drink faster. She did not understand what was happening. On the surface she appeared to have joined a group of very fun, down to earth people who just happened to look insanely gorgeous and not of this world in shiny button-up shirts and sequined dresses. It was a complete injustice for these people to be both fun and look like that, and Hanbyul the boring dowager in her plain dress.

Yet at the same time it made perfect sense because these were Jimin’s friends, and he was like that too! Hanbyul felt utterly stupid for having agreed to come out and yet simultaneously, selfishly fascinated. She felt like Jungkook had opened a door for her that Jimin had not, letting her see this adult social aspect of Jimin’s life –arguably without his permission. Not that he owned these people or anything… but if part of her reason for being here was to learn more about Jimin and get closer to him in that way… fuck, she was a creep! Would she have ever even talked to Jungkook if he wasn’t Jimin’s friend? She doubted herself now.

“I’m getting another, do you want one?” Andi asked, nudging Hanbyul in a friendly, familiar way that she was flattered to have somehow already earned .She didn’t want another one, but she also did.

“I can buy you something back,” she offered Jungkook before following Andi.

“It’s fine.”

“I insist.”

“Ok, whatever you get.”

“Even if it’s girly?” she checked.

He gave her a horrified look and clarified, “It’s a drink, there’s no gender.”

Hanbyul too was horrified and insisted, “No, I know! But sometimes men are so–”

“I’m just fucking with you. Girly is fine, I don’t discriminate.”

Hanbyul did not know what to make of him, especially since Hoseok was now leaning to the side laughing into the final sips of his beer.

“Forget this, I’m coming too,” Chun decided. “They just want to stand around and drink.”

“We’re going to get more drinks…” Andi pointed out.

“But we can dance on the way and back!”

In that way Hanbyul found herself boxed onto the dance floor for a period of time that could have been ten minutes or an hour, she couldn’t have said. The music was high energy and heavy-bass and she couldn’t tell when one song ended and another began. Her movements felt painfully clumsy next to the graceful way Andi and Chun twisted and swayed. It would be obvious to anyone observing that she was no dancer –but everyone was packed too tightly for anyone to really observe. Hopefully.

She was glad when it ended, and that relief led her to agree to the round of shots Andi bought. Chun missed her mouth slightly, the rum dribbling down the cleavage of her dress, which Andi dramatically helped her wipe. Then they leaned in close with Hanbyul and scouted out the hotties along the bar, of which they considered there to be very few.

Hanbyul kept waiting for one of them to ask her something pressing or private –maybe why Jungkook had suddenly invited her along, or why she’d come, or why she thought she should delve further into Jimin’s life when she was just his neighbor– but they didn’t.

The closest was Chun asking, “What do you think, Hanbyul? Anyone at this bar catch your eye? What’s your type?” But she didn’t have any malicious twinkle in her eye or bullying smirk, it really seemed like just a sincere question! And Hanbyul began to realize that maybe she was getting too used to workplace politics and competitiveness and it was interfering with her ability to just make friends. Was that what was happening here?

Maybe it was that hope, or maybe it was the alcohol starting to do numbers in her blood, but she admitted, “I don’t think I have a type… at least not one that has worked out for me.”

“Oh no. Something recent?”

“Oh… I did end something recently… but it wasn’t his fault, it was…” Oops. Just in time she realized she couldn’t say more about this without revealing way too much –not only because all roads led to their friend Jimin but also because she’d only just met these girls! “It didn’t work out,” she summarized.

“Another shot?” Andi asked, already signaling for the bartender.

“No, wait–”

“Yes!” Chun agreed. “You can feel sad about it tomorrow if you really want to, but tonight there’s dancing!”

“I’m a terrible dancer,” Hanbyul found herself confessing. They were overwhelming, both of these women, pressing another shot into her hand. It was bitter this time and made all three grimace and smack their lips.

She thought they’d missed what she said anyway but Andi insisted, “There’s no such thing as a terrible dancer. Technique? Sure. But dancing is just… feeling! It’s just moving! It’s just breathing.”

“You have clearly not seen me.”

“I was dancing with you five minutes ago!” Andi laughed. “And now I’ll dance with you again, let’s go!”

Hanbyul had Jungkook’s and her drinks in her hand, but did her best to shimmy and sway adequately along with Chun and Andi in the direction of the table. She felt ridiculous but their acceptance was a balm on her self-conscious soul. Jungkook and Hoseok leapt up at their approach and began dancing as well. It was just such a completely different club experience than Hanbyul was used to when she would go out with work peers, or longer ago when it was college friends rotation around her, drinking too much, picking at each other’s appearances and achievements to feel better about themselves in what felt like a hunting grounds for sex.

This didn’t feel that way at all! Hanbyul found her nerves dissolving with each sip, with each song (assuming it wasn’t just one long song playing which she thought entirely possible), with each moment of shared laughter. It was impossible but she began to feel as though she had known these people for a very long time.

Also the alcohol helped.

Hoseok spun her around –vaguely she recalled making some comment about ballerinas– which led to her promptly over-balancing against him, or it was possible Jungkook had bumped into her, and possibly on purpose because they were dancing near their table and the space was tight and everyone was very close together. She felt barely on her feet and slid around to lean against the table instead and catch her breath so she didn’t accidentally drag Hoseok down. Their empties were gone and she hesitated over the waters, which had now sat unguarded for some period of time. She ought to get water fresh–

“Hey hey! You came out after all!”

Hanbyul didn’t know how she even heard Jungkook’s shout over the noise other than her sixth sense suddenly shooting an alarm up her spine. She turned, not even bothering to hope it was literally any other friend of Jungkook’s than Jimin.

No, worse.

There was Jimin, an eyebrow lifted and his mouth open in surprise aimed clearly, undeniably in her direction.

And there beside him, both eyebrows lifted and mouth open in surprise aimed clearly, undeniably in her direction, was Namjoon.

“Fuck!” she choked out.

Jungkook gasped and grabbed her arm, asking, “Did I step on your foot?”

“No but I suddenly need to go home– I mean yes, I need to go home.”

“Shit, how bad–?” Jungkook dropped to a crouch, reaching for her foot. Which was a very bad look, she thought. She leapt away from him, but teetered again because the alcohol. The alcohol! Shit, she could not be drunk at a club like this in the presence of either Jimin or Namjoon and most definitely not together!

“I’m fine, but I’m heading out. Goodnight!” Would they believe that she hadn’t seen them and that’s why she wasn’t greeting either one of them? All of this had happened in the span of four seconds.

No, it wouldn’t make sense, even her alcohol-riddled brain knew they were directly in front of her.

“You really don’t have to leave on my account–” Namjoon said.

“Why do you have to go, just because I’m here–” Jimin said at the exact same time.

They stopped and looked at each other and Hanbyul lost at least three years off her life.

And then mercifully, before they could say anything, Andi flung her arms around their shoulders and cheered, “You sad sacks came out after all? Let’s get you some motherfucking drinks!”

“Wait, you’re both really here? You never come out!”

“I have a kid,” Jimin defended, suddenly all smiles as Chun descended, pinching his arm and brushing something off his shoulder.

“I, uh,” Namjoon coughed and looked over their heads. “I just don’t like places like this.”

“Oh sorry it’s not refined enough for you,” Andi tittered. “Too busy at art galas and restaurant openings to consort with club scum, huh?”

“Andi,” he complained, dimples flashing, all the charm Hanbyul had initially liked about him. And yet she felt so closed off from it now, like she could recognize but not really connect with that charm. How could she when Jimin was there beside him, glowing like her north star?

Hanbyul saw her chance and took it. She ducked around them all and tried to flee for the door. She could call an Uber and be speeding away, looking back through the rear window, before anyone even noticed she was gone.

Unfortunately, the club was a confusing place and after weaving across the throng of dancers, she’d been carried by the current upstream to the bathrooms.

“Shit-shit,” she mumbled to herself and darted inside because she really did need to pee too and better to do that now. Maybe they’d think she was already gone and stop looking for her and she could still escape. She took her time, braced every time the door opened for it to be Andi or Chun ruining her escape. But as some amount of minutes (uncountable because alcohol) ticked by, she steeled herself and found her confidence. She could get out of here. Whatever Namjoon and Jimin talked about in her absence, at least she wouldn’t be here to face it. That was a Tomorrow Hanbyul problem. Today Hanbyul needed to get the hell out of here.

She stepped boldly from the bathroom in the direction she was certain was the front door –and ran boldly into Namjoon.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Namjoon,” she said, thinking as she said it how casual and cool she sounded. Might as well tack on hey, wow, I didn’t see you, didn’t know you were here!

“Hey look, I– sorry, I guess I surprised you… I didn’t know that you uh… knew these people… or would be out at a club… tonight. This club. With these people.”

“Oh, yeah, it was sort of a… a spur of the moment thing. Jungkook invited me along and I didn’t want to just sit at home so…” Her words caught up to her and she realized how terrible that sounded. I dumped you but I also didn’t want to be bored so I just went clubbing.

“Ah. So Jungkook uh… is the guy…? I didn’t even know you knew him…”

“What guy?”

“That you said…” He leaned in close as the music took a turn, and the warm scent of his cologne was unkind as he said closer to be heard, “You said you had feelings for–”

“Oh! NO THAT’S NOT HIM!” she shouted, stiff-arming him away. A little too roughly, she realized, and quickly grabbed his arm and apologized, “Sorry, I– I forgot I told you that. No, it’s not him. He’s just a friend. Sort of. And I– sorry, I’m a little drunk right now kind of?”

“Ah.”

“I didn’t just break things off with you and go party, I was feeling pretty bummed so I thought I’d do something out of the ordinary…I mean, it was the right thing to do but like I said, um… but now you’re here and…” And Jimin is here…

“Hey, it’s fine,�� Namjoon assured her. “If you aren’t comfortable with me here, I can leave but if it’s ok, I can be cool.”

“You’re very cool,” she agreed.

He smiled, a handsome dimpled smirk like she hadn’t answered his question correctly, and corrected, “I just mean, I’m only going to be here for a drink and then I’ll go. This isn’t really my scene so don’t let me chase you away.”

“Ok.”

“And uh, just so it’s out there, if you… ha, nevermind. I’m just going to get my drink, don’t mind me.” He held his hands up and backed away and Hanbyul hated not knowing what he’d been about to say. Maybe: if you want to be friends, that’s cool, I can refrain from ever letting anyone know we had sex and a few dates. She hated that he was probably not saying that.

Almost as much as she hated seeing Jimin standing not too far off, having clearly watched their interaction.

She couldn’t go talk to him. Not while Namjoon would see her and she would probably say or do something that would make it immediately obvious who Jimin was to her because damn he looked so good! He’d gelled his hair back and rolled the sleeves of his dark button-up to his elbows. The club lights flickered off his earring, as if he needed any help from a spotlight to draw eyes to him. Hanbyul felt like the crowd dramatically parted, like the lights shone specifically for him, from him.

She couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed to see her invading his friend group, or if he had a guess as to what had happened between her and Namjoon. For all she knew, Namjoon had told him everything before they came tonight, or in the time since she’d fled the table, and Jimin had come to demand what the fuck was wrong with her.

But Namjoon was a class act, maybe he hadn’t said anything. Maybe Jimin was only curious about why she and Namjoon had been speaking so closely. If she left now, all Jimin would know was whatever Namjoon said about it. If she stayed and everything seemed cool, maybe Jimin wouldn’t think anything weird was happening. She’d mentioned before she spoke to Jungkook through the app, so it couldn’t be a total surprise she was here.

It made sense in her mind, and was a better excuse than that other thought: I just want to hang out at a club with Jimin.

Who was she kidding, she couldn’t stay here!

He was walking towards her and she couldn’t move.

“Hey,” he greeted when he reached her and she wondered if he ever used that line on women at the club because it would totally work, looking like that.

“Jungkook invited me and I had a really long day so I thought it would be good to get out of my apartment,” she blurted out in an attempt to distance herself from Namjoon in one sweep.

“It is a good idea,” Jimin said. “I didn’t know you went clubbing.”

“Rarely.”

“Me neither.”

“You look like a natural,” she assured him.

“Clubber?”

“Huh?”

Jimin shook his head and laughed, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Me?”

“Uh… yes?”

“Yes,” she said, despite knowing she really shouldn’t. More alcohol was the last thing she needed but Jimin had offered! Jimin twisted his hand behind his back so she could hold onto it and trail him through the club to the bar. Jimin asked her what she wanted and paid and she felt bad to let him pay but he’d bought her a drink!

Drink in hand, she was the one to lead them back to the table, though it had been abandoned; all Jimin’s friends were dancing. She thought to join, but Jimin leaned against the wall and she felt anchored to his side.

He nudged her arm and asked, “So how do you know Namjoon?”

“Dating app,” she answered quickly. “And Jungkook. I think all your friends are on there… I make a lot of friends on there… it’s not just for dating!” What was she even saying? She thought maybe if she said “friend” enough it would be enough to save her.

“Friends, huh?” He was practically shouting to be heard, not leaning in as close as Namjoon had. She wished he would; she felt like the distance meant something. “I don’t know anything about apps but I started an account today. Guess I’ll see you on there, huh?”

Hanbyul didn’t know what to do with that information. Why had he made an account on a dating app?!

Same reason as you, moron. Park Jimin was ready to start dating again, that’s what it told her. He’d come to the club looking like that, so maybe he’d been hoping to meet someone here. He must be, to come out when he didn’t normally. The thought of watching him pick up a woman made her break out in a cold sweat. What if she ran into her leaving Jimin’s apartment in the morning–no, probably he wouldn’t take someone there with Sun-young at home, but maybe she was spending the night somewhere else?

“I hear it’s tough though,” Jimin said, still shouting. “Namjoon had a thing going I guess and it ended today so I made him come out too.”

Oh god, he knows.

“I’d rather meet people the traditional way,” he continued.

“Here?” she asked, face twisting into a grimace. “I guess it depends on what you’re looking for.”

“Ah… I don’t know…”

“Not all of us meet people as easily as you but I don’t think you’ll have a hard time,” she shouted back.

He pressed his hand over his eyes and then laughed, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Do you need a pep talk before you go hit on someone?” she asked, drawing on all of her strength to be what he needed in this moment and not do what her drunk brain was encouraging her to (lean in and kiss.) “You are brave and smart and funny and–”

“Are you giving me the same speech you gave my daughter?”

“Maybe!” she laughed because he was laughing and because it all felt briefly very funny, having this shouted conversation in the club with Jimin. Encouraging him to go meet a woman “the traditional way” (drunk in a bar) to take home and do the things she wanted to do with him and hope he didn’t find out she’d done those things with his friend already… but different things! Similar in theme but different!

He finally did lean in and begin, “You know what she told me today? She– hey, maybe we should go somewhere we can hear–”

“HEY!” Chun suddenly appeared, followed in short order by Hoseok. “The fuck are you wallflowers doing?”

“Come dance,” Hoseok agreed. “You can talk at home!”

There wasn’t room left to argue. She and Jimin were dragged out, downing their drinks on the way to abandon on a table, and then pressed into the dancing mob. Hanbyul had hoped to position herself so she could at least dance near Jimin, but her hesitation when faced with Namjoon and what he might realize about her feelings towards his friend was just enough time for Andi and Chun to slide in between. Instead Hanbyul found herself on the fringe with Jungkook and Hoseok.

Maybe that was for the best. She was like a baby: without Namjoon or Jimin in sight she was able to forget them, aided by alcohol and loud music and the antics of these two of Jimin’s friends. Despite being physically graceful men, they were clearly just having fun with dancing; both grinned and laughed and didn’t take themselves too seriously which helped her feel less self conscious about what her less-drunk brain would have termed “awkward motions at best.” Maybe she was getting the hang of dancing in the club! Maybe she’d be confident enough now to dance over closer to Jimin!

Abort abort abort!! Hanbyul froze at the familiar way a random woman danced with Jimin, her hands trailing over his body. Maybe she wasn’t random? Jimin did not seem put off by it, just laughed and lifted her hands but kept her close. Hanbyul wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was Jimin really that bold or did he already know that woman? Hanbyul couldn’t imagine dancing with a man like that. The envy flooded her.

She tried not to look again but it was hard not to. She felt suddenly like a switch had flipped and all the fun she’d been having abruptly turned off. She was being stupid jealous. Hadn’t she just encouraged Jimin to go meet someone? And they were just dancing. And even if it went somewhere, it wasn’t any of her business.

“I need water,” she announced to no one in particular and disappeared again, responsibly leading herself to the bar. It tasted weird and unpleasant in her mouth, and at the first sip she had the urgent need to pee, which meant another swim upstream through the crowds to reach the restrooms. The club was becoming less fun by the minute.

She didn’t think that much time had passed but when she tried to find the group again, they’d scattered. Trying to locate them was a fool’s errand; she’d think she saw one only to squeeze her way there and find it to be someone else. She was all twisted around. The room felt overly loud, the music too loud, the lights too bright.

There, Jimin!

At the bar, nodding as the woman from earlier leaned in close to say something in his ear. He said something back, right in her ear, then appeared to look around before shaking his head. The woman touched his arm.

Hanbyul knew her night was over. She couldn’t stay here and watch him pick up a woman. She shouldn’t have been here in the first place. She could still see Namjoon out of the corner of her eye, that good guy she’d dumped for no reason other than that it was casual fun when she wanted something serious with someone who was not available, only for him to immediately find her out at the club. She couldn’t find Jungkook. She barely knew Andi and Chun. Her feet hurt and her head was swimming and she felt like she kept getting drunker even though she hadn’t had anything to drink in a while.

Oh no, she realized with a longing for sobriety. I drank too much. Control of her arms and legs felt exaggerated, and the music felt like it was leaking into her skull, and she had the impulse to take off her clothes because it was so hot in here.

Don’t do it! The last tendril of her rational self pleaded with her to behave. She shushed it gently with a finger to her lips.

“You!” a voice at her elbow called. She spun, expecting Jimin, finding Jungkook.

“You were lost!” she cried.

He glared and wagged his finger, “You disappeared! I’ll be in deep shit if I lose you!”

“With the proper authorities?”

“Wha?”

Someone bumped into her and she edged closer to Jungkook with a pout. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She wished Jimin would take her home –no, Jimin wouldn’t take her home, even though they lived right now to each other. Jimin might be taking someone else home.

“He’s still talking to her,” she realized, her eyes landing on Jimin despite the crowd. She couldn’t tell if it was the same woman but it didn’t matter. Jimin was going to take home whatever woman he wanted and meet more women on the dating app and Hanbyul was going to have to just sit back and cheer him on. She wanted to cry.

“Hey, you ok? You look like you’re about to cry.”

“I want to go home,” she said in a small voice. “I’m too drunk…”

“Ah, damn. No, don’t cry.”

“I won’t cry,” she vowed, though didn’t quite believe it herself.

“What? I can’t hear you… let’s just get you home,” he said, as best she could tell. When he nudged her towards the door, she let him guide her out. It had cooled off considerably outside and she shivered. The sudden shift in volume left her feeling teetery, as if she’d been leaning on the noise and body heat.

“How drunk are you?” he asked, hand gripping her arm.

“Um, just a little bit… I can get a cab…” she pulled her phone out of her purse and promptly dropped it on the ground. “Oops.” It was embarrassing for Jungkook to see her like this. She didn’t know how she’d gotten this far, just one drink leading to another, and it was all fine until suddenly she fully understood she was watching the love of her life–

“He’s not the love of my life,” she insisted.

“What now?”

“I don’t know, where’s my phone?”

Jungkook held it up, but promptly overbalanced and fell on his ass. Only when he started laughing did Hanbyul consider she wasn’t the only drunk one, and it was overwhelmingly comforting in that moment. A few tears did leak out then.

“Shit, you’re crying. Let me go get Jimin, he’s better with that kind of–”

“NO!”

“No… Jimin?”

“Can I sleep at your place?”

“Uh…” Jungkook looked up at her from the curb. “Yes… but–”

“Not to have sex!”

“Ok geez.”

“No, I have to get home to Hudu… where’s my phone…”

“It’s dead,” Jungkook told her.

Hanbyul promptly sat down beside him on the curb and sighed, “Well shit.”

“I’ll get you home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No? I should just wave and let you walk off? Jimin would shred my balls and peel the skin off my body.”

“Ew,” she gasped.

“Oh he can take you home, he lives right by you.” Jungkook began to rise but Hanbyul knocked against him to send him sprawling again. “What the–”

“No!” she cried on a delay. ��Anyone but him.”

“Anyone?”

“It can’t be him. He’s… busy.”

“Busy…?”

“Like… flirting. I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Nah, he won’t mind.”

“I can’t! He can’t see me like this! Who knows what I’ll say?!”

“What’s the worst you can say?” Jungkook laughed. “‘I’m in love with you’?”

Hanbyul grabbed his arm, eyes going wide, and demanded, “Did I say that?!”

“Wha?”

“How did you know that?!”

“The… fucking… wait… do you?”

“Did Namjoon tell you that?!”

“What does Namjoon have to do with anything?”

“I didn’t tell him who but I didn’t think he would show up today and why is Jimin friends with everyone in this city–”

“He’s a friendly guy.”

“I know and I know I’m just a friend so you don’t have to tell me but I still didn’t mean to…” She trailed off, unable to bring herself to admit she’d fallen in love with him, or unknowingly slept with his friend, or that her jealousy over him even talking to other women in the bar right now was going to consume her.

“Hey.” Jungkook nudged her arm with his. She gave him a miserable look. “I don’t think you’re just a friend.”

“Thanks, Jungkook. That’s sweet of you… I think…”

“No, I mean–” A car interrupted him, pulling to a stop so close that they both scrambled backwards. “Oh that’s our car.” She thought it was too soon for a car to have arrived. How had he even ordered one on his phone without her seeing? They scrambled into the car like a pair of street rats.

“Oh my god I’m too drunk I shouldn’t have been saying any of this! Stop making me talk!”

“It thinks it’s the alcohol.”

“Too much,” she sighed. “Why did I come out with you?”

“To have fun. Admit it, you were having fun.”

“I was, until…”

“So you’re like… in love with–”

“Stop saying it! I didn’t say that.”

“You pretty much did,” he tittered.

“You can’t tell him. Promise me. Promise me, Jungkook, not a word!”

“Why would I tell him your business?” Jungkook snickered. “I think you should tell him. And let me watch.”

“Jungkook. Jungkook Jungkook Jungkook–”

“Hanbyul, what.”

“We can never tell him,” she said with utmost sincerity, grabbing his hand and squeezing as tightly as she could. “He can never know.”

“Why not?”

“He and Sun-young are too important to me. Do you understand?”

“Yeah but what if you’re important to him too?”

“I am. I get to take care of Sun-young sometimes and he likes my cooking…” She closed her eyes because the car ride was making her dizzy. At least thinking of Jimin helped settle her head just enough she didn’t think she was going to puke in the backseat of the Uber. Probably.

“Yeah but what if he thinks you’re more important than your cooking?”

She smiled and wished she could move enough to pat his head as she explained, “He doesn’t but I can be happy with being neighbor Hanbyul, but not less than that if I make him uncomfortable and he stops talking to me.”

“I don’t really know you a lot but I don’t think you should settle.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah, I’m sweet,” he agreed. “I think it matters, love and romance and… and thinking someone is the best part of your day…”

“Are you a romantic?” she gasped.

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“I thought you were a…”

“A what?!”

“A flirt…” Fuckboy.

“I am a flirt. I can be both. And I’m not setting for anything less than… I’m waiting to meet someone who gets all red faced talking about me like you do about Jimin.”

“I do not! I’m just drunk!”

“It’s cute.”

“I wish I could fall out of this car and have it run me over.”

Jungkook laughed hard and Hanbyul actually felt all right for him to know her secret. At least for right now. Even though he was one of Jimin’s best friends, at least right now her drunk mind did not perceive a threat that he would run and tell. Right now he felt like her friend too, like they were just two drunk girls in the bathroom sharing secrets. Except it was the back of a cab and his only secret was that he wanted to be in consuming love someday. To be honest, Hanbyul did not think being in love agreed with her so far.

Because yes, she was a little bit in love with Jimin and so far it was nothing but stomachaches.

They walked together up to her apartment. She thought he was just being a gentleman, but when she got back from the quickest pee she’d ever taken Hudu on, she found Jungkook puking in her bathroom.

“Mixed my alcohols,” he groaned.

Well, Hanbyul was drunk enough to spill her secrets but not enough to puke. With any luck, Jungkook wouldn’t even remember these conversations tomorrow; she hadn’t realized he was as or even more drunk than she was.

“You can sleep on the couch,” she told him.

“The couch? Come on, let me share your bed.”

“Jungkook!”

“We don’t have to fuck! Jimin would never forgive me–”

“Stop talking about it!”

“About fucking? Or Jimin? Or fucking Jimin–”

“Jungkook!”

“Come on, you’re practically my sister in law at this point, just let me sleep in your–”

“I am not! What are you talking about?!” She covered her face and leaned against the wall. And refused to admit that she felt some secret little thrill in this teasing, in someone else making her connection to Jimin seem real and acceptable and possible. Even though she knew it wasn’t and that Jungkook was just a brat who was enjoying teasing her –which was sweet in its own way but she was definitely going to die of embarrassment tomorrow if he remembered any of this.

When she uncovered her face, Jungkook was holding Hudu, swaying slowly with the pup under his chin, and humming.

Until he suddenly set Hudu down and sprinted to the bathroom again. At that point he decided he wanted the couch after all, since it was closer to the toilet. Hanbyul brought him a trash can too and a glass of water, by which point he was already asleep. Not that she was far behind. The room spun as she lay in bed, the events of the day sliding and jostling over each other.

Jimin was so handsome. And sweet. And charming. And kind. And handsome.

It didn’t matter what Jungkook said. Jimin wasn’t interested in her like that, as evidenced by his attention to other women, as evidenced by his mentioning dating other people to her several times now, as evidenced by his joining of a dating app when there was a perfectly ok Hanbyul down the hall.

Plus… Namjoon.

Well. This had been fun. But Hanbyul was never going to drink again and never going to go out with Jungkook and their friends again.

But first she made sure Jungkook was asleep with traitor Hudu curled up on his legs, and closed her bedroom door, and let her vibrator walk her through the memories of the way Jimin had looked and danced, except this time around her, kissing the lingering taste of his drink into her mouth…

Jimin slept like shit. Every time he’d start to doze, he’d grab his phone again, squinting at the blinding brightness to see if there was a message back. Occasionally he’d manage to fall asleep only to bolt up, certain he’d heard his phone ring –that obnoxious awful ring he’d put on ever since that one time Sunnie’s school hadn’t been able to get hold of him because he always kept his phone on silent and they’d called Hoseok, the second emergency contact, to go get Sunnie and she’d thought it meant her dad died too.

There was never an obnoxious ring going off. Instead he drifted in and out of sleep until Sun-young was awake, enough of an excuse to get out of bed and go through the motions of making them both breakfast and rattling off their plans for the day. Not that there was much for this one blessed weekend. Jimin wasn’t teaching any classes or partaking of any workshops or attending any performances by fellow dancers. Sun-young wanted to see her friends but there was nothing planned yet, and she had no weekend dance since there was no reason for her to take on extra. It wasn’t time for dress rehearsals yet. For her final recital.

“We need to grocery shop,” Jimin suggested, because their fridge was empty and that made him think of cooking and food and Hanbyul, which was better than thinking of Sunnie quitting dance. Hanbyul who had not answered his phone call or either of his texts asking if she got home all right. That wasn’t excessive, was it? But she’d been very drunk, and every time he’d tried to make his way over to her, Kim Hayoon kept catching hold of him again –and he couldn’t exactly just shove her off because she sat on the board of a scholarship that aided many of his students, which in turn kept his lights on and doors open.

Hanbyul must be ok. Just hung over. Hoseok said he’d seen Jungkook getting her an Uber and while Jimin would have greatly preferred that someone let him know Hanbyul was heading out so he could catch a ride home with her, he knew he could trust Jungkook. The fact she was drunk was both obvious and endearing, he could see it in the way she danced without her usual reserve, and the exaggerated way she responded when anyone talked to her. She just had a different look in the club when they’d talked that he couldn’t quite explain but it had just felt… different. He hadn’t understood she was drunk at first when they spoke, and maybe she wasn’t yet then, maybe that came later. He didn’t know, she just seemed happy. He had gotten painfully little actual time with her and the injustice of that was palpable. She’d looked amazing and he had never in his life expected to be at a club with her and he would have liked to dance together. Preferably just the two of them… and what the fuck was wrong with him that he hadn’t managed to make it happen?!

“I’m not hungry,” Sun-young said, possibly related to his comment about grocery shopping. He closed the refrigerator, now several degrees warmer, and looked over where Sunnie poked at her gyeran bap, cheek resting on her hand.

“You want cereal instead? We have…” He trailed off, realizing they had none. Hanbyul might have some he could bum off her…

“No,” Sun-young sighed. “Can I watch TV?”

“Sure, but we should go grocery shopping today and figure out what else we need to do… laundry… do you have homework?” Even as he said these things, he frowned. He did need to do these tasks, but he also wanted to just have fun with his daughter. Maybe Hanbyul could come along? He could tease her about last night, make sure she understood he had wanted to dance with her–

But to what end? He’d dance with her and maybe she’d humor him and only think to herself a little why is this old dad wanting to dance with me at the club? Why is he even here? He didn’t usually go to clubs –not because he didn’t enjoy them but because he didn’t usually have the time or energy. But Namjoon was bummed because that girl he’d been dating had called things off and it wasn’t serious but it kinda sucked and so Jimin had called in a favor with Yoongi and put himself together and gone to the clubs.

And there was Hanbyul, for no reason he could comprehend at the time, long hair pulled back to show off her neck, wearing a cute very short dress he’d never seen her in before… vibing with Jungkook. For a moment he’d lit up like a holiday tree with surprise and envy and relief, because here was an opportunity to spend time with Hanbyul in an adult setting except she was already spending that time with Jungkook!

And then there was whatever Namjoon and Hanbyul had been talking about by the bathroom. He didn’t realize she’d gotten to know so many of his friends around him and now he felt even more like an idiot not to have invited her into his circle long ago. They clearly got along with her, she seemed happy –except for that moment she spoke with Namjoon, and looked so distressed it was hard to hold himself back from running in to save her. Maybe he should have. At the time he’d hesitated because Hanbyul wasn’t his to save and whatever they were talking about wasn’t his business. He’d been anchored by that twist of displeasure that she was young and single and pretty and so were his friends.

Sun-young curled up on the couch with a blanket and watched some kid drama with an unblinking, disconnected stare. It dragged Jimin from his thoughts of Hanbyul.

“You ok, Sunnie?”

“I’m tired.”

That was wildly unlike her. Jimin perched on the edge of her couch and touched her forehead but couldn’t decide whether it was unusually warm or not.

“Does anything hurt?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Your head? Your stomach? Your throat?”

“I don’t know, I just feel…”

“Yes?” he prodded, waiting for the revelation.

“Tired.”

Illness in Sun-young always raised a panic in him on par with what he’d experienced when she was only an infant and he and Subin young, inexperienced parents convinced every sniffle could be the first sign of something fatal. Most parents learned over time through proof of the contrary that colds were common and their child was healthy, though the fear always lurked in the shadows. But when Subin was suddenly very sick, and only a short time later died, it broke that security in Jimin. Any illness could be the last one.

The doctor’s office was used to his overreactions at this point. He didn’t care, though he tried to reign it in once Sun-young made clear she found the coddling overbearing. He tried to trust her assessment of her own body, but she was a child! She gave him nothing to go on this time anyway, just tired, so Jimin checked ears and nose and throat, took her temperature, pressed on her belly, took her temperature again.

“A small fever,” he murmured.

“I think it’s just a cold,” she said, drooping to the couch again. She nudged his leg. “I can’t see.”

“Your vision is hazy?!”

“You’re blocking the TV.”

“Oh…”

“My throat hurts a little,” she conceded, as if throwing him a bone in his worry. He had thought it looked a little red, her lymph nodes a bit swollen to touch.

This called for an aggressive offense of yuzu jelly tea, popsicles, and Sunnie’s favorite stew samgyetang. But they were out of popsicles, there was only a scrape of yuzu jelly left in the jar to make tea with, and of course he had no samgyetang readily on hand.

He glanced at the clock. It was nearing ten now. Surely Hanbyul would be waking up –even if she’d slept in with a hangover. In fact, he had some Easy Tomorrow she could drink! He should have taken it over last night and regretted his thoughtlessness now. She might be having a rotten morning and it would be shitty of him to show up and ask if she had any yuzu jelly or could make samgyetang for his sick daughter.

But she might be already making it for herself, and she might not mind sharing the jelly, and she might appreciate the Easy Tomorrow later than never. Plus he could confirm with his own eyes she’d gotten home safe.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just to see if Hanbyul has yuzu jelly.”

“Tell her to come watch TV with me,” Sun-young said from her blanket burrito. “You can say I’m sick if it makes her come.”

“I think you are sick, kiddo.”

“I’m just a little tired.”

She coughed immediately afterwards, as if even her body couldn’t stand by the dismissal of her symptoms. Jimin would never. Already he was evaluating just how far he’d let her symptoms get before he’d take her to the doctor. The answer: not very far.

He felt a twinge of guilt as he knocked on Hanbyul’s door. She might have a headache so he started quietly but when he didn’t hear anything, graduated to the buzzer.

He tracked footsteps to the door and then a pause during which he assumed Hanbyul was peeking through the peephole to see who was bothering her on a Saturday morning. He ran his hand through his hair, hoping he didn’t look too rough.

The door swung open to reveal Jungkook wearing yesterday’s clothes and looking puffy-eyed and crusty. He yawned and scratched at his cheek and gave Jimin a sleepy grin.

“Hey, Easy Tomorrow, thanks,” he said, reaching for the bottle. “I was just heading out. Hanbyul’s still asleep if that’s who you’re looking for.”

Jimin was so completely stunned to be confronted by Jungkook answering Hanbyul’s door that he could only stammer out, “Who else would I be looking for at Hanbyul’s apartment?”

“Yeah, good point.” Jungkook unscrewed the cap from the bottle and downed it in one long chug while Jimin just stood there, waiting for an answer to any of the questions he couldn’t find his voice for: why are you waking up inside Hanbyul’s apartment wearing yesterday’s clothes? Why did you go home with her? Why did you invite her out in the first place? Are you two dating now? Did you fuck?

Bottle empty, Jungkook handed it back to Jimin and clapped him on the shoulder as he said, “It was good you came out last night. I think everyone had a lot of fun.”

“Uh… yeah, uh…”

“Fuck. Think I’ll get some more sleep at home… see ya later. Tell Sunnie I said hey.”

Jungkook did not seem to realize that Jimin was stunned speechless. He set off down the hall, leaving Hanbyul’s door open as if Jimin was going to just waltz right in. She wasn’t even out of bed yet! Had she slept naked after Jungkook…

Jimin pulled the door shut, making sure he heard the click of the lock before sprinting back to the safety of his own apartment. There he snuggled down beside Sun-young and pulled out his phone to order yuzu jelly tea and stew and anything else he could think of that they wanted for delivery, cost be damned.

What the fuck?! Had Jungkook really gone home with and slept with Hanbyul?

Jimin couldn’t even process it. Jungkook ought to know she was off limits! But also, of course Jungkook wouldn’t think she was off limits, because Jimin never said so, because she wasn’t off limits. Even if it felt wrong for her to not be off limits. Even if Jimin and Hanbyul weren’t dating, she shouldn’t be dating any of his friends either, right?? Because… because there was still an emotional connection there…

Jimin flat out didn’t know what to do. Everything in him warred between marching right over, coming out with it and seeing what she said… and doing anything in the world except that.

But coming out with what? What did Jimin have to offer Hanbyul? Absolutely nothing in some areas and too much in others. A single father, a dead wife, a heart still trying to adjust to the idea of letting someone else in. If Hanbyul was interested in Jungkook, then Jimin was not the guy for her. Jimin should be looking for someone older and settled or something anyway, right? Maybe someone with a kid too, so they could mutually burden each other –not that he thought Sun-young was in any way a burden, but it was a lot to ask someone who wasn’t a parent to suddenly become one!

“Is unnie coming?” Sunnie asked, sitting up and leveling a pink-faced pout in his direction.

“Oh uh, I don’t know, she wasn’t awake yet.”

“Can you call her? I really want her to come over.”

Jimin stroked Sun-young’s hair and took her acceptance of this touch as proof she was very sick.

Would it be such a bad thing if Hanbyul wound up with Jungkook? He could use someone to look after him, and she could use someone who could be fun and free with her. And she’d still be in Sunnie’s life, just as an aunt instead of…

Was he really thinking of Hanbyul like this? It wasn’t in any explicit way, words still seemed impossible and ill-fitting and heavy. He didn’t know what he wanted, he doubted Hanbyul wanted this nameless space, he was too afraid to look directly at this thing taking hazy shape in his mind, this future starting to come into focus. Did the future have to be big and scary? Wouldn’t it be the easiest thing in the world right now for Hanbyul to walk in from the other room and settle on the couch with them, legs folded beneath her, Jimin’s arm around her shoulder and Sun-young draped across their laps? Hanbyul’s head settling onto his shoulder…

The physical closeness was the only thing that would be new, and he wanted it. He craved it in such a sudden, overwhelming rush that it almost drove him from the couch to take a lap around the apartment to work out this restless energy. He wanted Hanbyul here and it wasn’t fair that she wasn’t. Sunnie wanted her here too! Couldn’t they just have what they wanted this time? The scene was playing out in his mind, the casual affection, Hanbyul’s hand stroking Sunnie’s hair, Jimin’s fond smile, maybe a soft shared kiss once Sun-young drifted off to sleep halfway through the movie. God, to kiss Hanbyul, to share a warm, close embrace that he’d been deprived of for years! And for the first time in as long, the longing for it didn’t bring him to his knees in grief. Subin was there in his heart, forever and always, but there was space for Hanbyul too, space he desperately wanted her to fill. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he stared at the empty space on the couch as if she was really there, as if they were sharing the phantom first kiss. His flush was as real as if they had.

God, he was pathetic. Lonely, and latching on to a fantasy of his neighbor. He tried to push the thoughts from his head with limited success and turned to narrating the TV show to Sun-young instead until she insisted he stop.

“Is this what you want to watch? Here, let me get you socks and your stuffie. Maybe you need some medicine too? I think delivery will be here soon–”

“Appa just stay still with me.”

He immediately froze, still as a statue as Sun-young adjusted in his arms, her little warm body curled up with his in a way he’d feared she had outgrown.

Well he sure fucking wasn’t moving now.

“Ok. I’ll stay,” he assured her.

“Did you message unnie?”

“Yes,” he partially lied. “But she has something else going on. It’s just going to be us, ok?”

“Ok,” Sunnie sighed and he felt her head getting heavier against his chest.

There. There, if she could accept it, he could too. They didn’t need Hanbyul or anyone else in their lives. The two of them and the memory of Subin were a whole-enough family. Things were already getting better between them since he’d budged on the dance and science, and the future would be ok.

He’d let Jungkook know to take care because Hanbyul was a good woman, and then he’d let go of that silly dream he’d almost fallen into.

He had Sunnie and Sunnie had him and they didn’t need anyone else in the world.

Except maybe someone to get the delivery at the door so he didn’t have to unsettle his sleeping daughter. Shit!

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#jimin ff #jimin x oc #park jimin fanfic #dad jimin #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin fic #jimin fanfic #single dad jimin #after the applause

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angelasscribbles · 2 years ago

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Victim of Love Chapter 7: Come Dancing

Series: Victim of Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Drake x Riley

Word Count: 1,466

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Language, drinking

Song Inspiration for series: Victim of Love by The Eagles

Victim of love

It's such an easy part

And you know how to play it so well

My other stuff: Master List.

“Riley! Wait up!” Drake jogged down the hallway after her.

She barely glanced over her shoulder, “What do you want, Drake?”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he slowed his pace as he caught up with her.

“I’m fine. I’m used to it!” She snapped then softened as she shot him a sidelong glance, it wasn’t his fault. “Thanks for caring though.”

“Of course, I care!” He fell in step beside her, “I know we technically just met but I really like you, Riley and I want to help, if I can.”

“You can’t go back in time and make my boyfriend and best friend not marry each other, so I don’t really know what you think you can do.”

“You make a fair point,” he conceded, “But I’m not a quitter. I can’t fix Liam’s fuck up, but maybe I can help you forget about it for a little bit.”

She stopped at her bedroom door and gave him a considering look, “Are you offering to have sex with me again?”

“What? No! I mean, I would most certainly be open to having sex with you again, but that’s not what I meant!”

“So, what were you offering?” She tipped her head to the side and waited.

“Let me take you out tonight. Somewhere in town, outside the palace. We’ll get a few beers, maybe dance a little. Real dancing, not that ballroom shit. Get you out of your head for a bit.”

“You want to take me out?”

“Yes.”

“Like on a date?”

“Yes.”

“Even though I’m dating your best friend?”

“You’re not dating him. You’re just sleeping with him.”

“And that’s different….how?”

“He has a whole ass wife, Riley, and it’s not you. I’m pretty sure that makes you available regardless of what you do with him behind closed doors. Look, he is my best friend and I’m not trying to cause issues between the two of you, but you don’t seem happy and what I saw back there wasn’t right. You deserve better.”

Riley considered his words. What did she have to lose? She had already arranged to meet with him later to talk about what had happened between them. This would just move the timetable up. And what was wrong with going out for drinks with a friend?

Nothing, right?

“Okay,” she agreed, “When should I be ready?”

***

Drake held open the door of the nondescript luxury sedan for her then walked around to climb into the driver’s seat, “Sorry, I know it’s boring, but I don’t have a car here anymore. Sold it when I moved to Texas, so I had to borrow one from the royal fleet.”

“This is fine,” she assured him, “I won’t hold the stodginess against you.”

Drake laughed at the characterization, “You’ve just described everything about this life!”

“Is that why you left?”

“No. My mom really did need me. I left to go to college, got my bachelor’s degree in animal science then did a four-year stint in the military. After that, I went home to help out for a little bit and the next thing I knew, I was pretty much running the daily operations of the ranch. What about you? How did you end up here?”

“It’s a long story,” she sighed.

“I’ve got time….”

“Okay, well, I had just finished veterinary school and-“

“Wait! You went to veterinary school? And finished?”

“Yes. I had just finished school, but I hadn’t landed a job yet. My dad needed me to fill in for him at the bar, one of his best waiters had quit suddenly and left him in a bind. That’s how I met Liam and Max. I was their waitress. Liam and I hit it off. The next day, Max showed up at the bar and suggested I come back here with him and compete in the social season as House Beaumont’s representative.”

“Wait…you’re telling me that you gave up a career in veterinary medicine to hop on a plane with a guy you just met-“

“It’s not as bad as it sounds!” She laughed, “If you’ll listen! I said no at first. But then he offered to pay all my student loan debt plus cover all costs of the social season. So, after a thorough background check on him and his brother, I decided why the hell not? It let me start my career debt free and I got a free European summer vacation out of the deal. I really thought I’d be back home by fall.”

Drake guided the car into a parking spot then turned to her incredulously, “How the hell did he get you to stay?”

“I fell in love,” she said to her lap, “I really thought….well, after the coronation I packed my shit and went to Ramsford. I was planning to be on the next plane out, but Liam showed up and convinced me to stay. I know that must sound crazy, but I was in love, my heart had just been broken…I wasn’t really thinking clearly. Next thing I knew I was a fucking duchess.”

“But you wanted to be a veterinarian…”

She looked up at the sympathy in his voice, “Oh, I still am! I run a small animal rescue at Valtoria. We take in exotic animals that have been wounded or were confiscated from private owners. We rehabilitate them and if they can’t be released into the wild, they live out their lives there.”

Drake smiled at the excitement on her face as she talked. Her entire being lit up when she talked about animals. “Wow, I can tell you’re passionate about it.”

“Oh, I am!” Her previous bad mood had evaporated, she was all smiles, “I think you promised me beer and dancing. Are we going to do that or are we just going to sit in this bland-ass boring car?”

His grin broadened, “Oh, we are definitely going dancing!”

Ten minutes later they were at the bar finishing their first round of drinks.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Drake laughed, “So your brother rode his bike off the roof of your garage?”

“Yes!” She verified, “We had an old mattress on the ground for him to land on but the bike overshot it and he ended up with a broken arm!”

“Oh no!”

“I mean, it wasn’t funny at the time,” she giggled, “but we still give him hell about it to this day!”

“Hm,” he shook his head with a soft smile, “your family sounds fun.”

“Oh, we’re a laugh riot,” she snorted, “what about you? You said you have a sister?”

“Yeah, just the one sibling. We used to be fairly close, but she moved to Paris a couple of years ago and doesn’t come home to visit much.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Riley flagged down the bartender for another round, “My siblings blow up my phone on a daily basis. We have a group chat. They’re a pain in the ass, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

“It’s fine,” he told her as he threw back his second drink, “Now I think you promised me a dance!”

“That I did,” she pushed away from the bar and stood up, “Lead the way, sir!”

He pulled her body close to his as they swayed to the music, “I hope you’re not expecting too much, I’m only halfway good at this.”

Her arms wrapped around his neck as she smiled up at him, “You’re doing just fine.”

“Good to know,” his hands slid down her body to rest on her hips, “it’s been a while.”

“Don’t get out much?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, why not? I’ll bet those Texas women go crazy over you in a cowboy hat!”

“Well as it turns out, the first woman I’ve wanted to drive crazy in a long time wasn’t in Texas.”

“Oh yeah? Where was she?”

His hands moved around to the small of her back as he tugged her closer, “I’ll let you figure that out.”

The only answer she gave him was a smile as he swung her around the dance floor. Four songs later they left the dance floor breathless and collapsed into chairs at a corner table.

Riley kicked her shoes off under the table as Drake flagged down a waiter.

They were still at the table laughing and talking when the last call was sounded. “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!” the voice over the intercom announced.

“Guess we should get back,” Drake pushed away from the table and offered her his hand.

She let him pull her up as she responded, “I really don’t want to go back to the palace right now.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Well come on then,” he grinned at her, “I have somewhere else we can go!”

#trr au #the royal romance #trr #drake walker #riley brooks #drake x mc #the royal romance fanfic #angelasscribbles #choices fic writers creations #choices #cfwc fics of the week #liam rys #choices stories you play #victim of love #VoL

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gnabnahc317cb97 · 2 months ago

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The Yaghon

Lee Felix x Thick female reader

Word count: 5.7K

Synopsis: A sequel to Forever My Wedding Date. Your one year anniversary rolls around and Felix needed everything perfect, but he will learn sometimes the best plans are no plans at all.

Warnings: 18+ only MDNI! Cursing/strong language, mentions of car/public sex, oral (m&f receiving), fingering, cream pie, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, I honestly think that's all! This one is fairly vanilla. As per usual if I missed anything please let me know and I will add it to the warnings immediately!

“That one right there sir, that’s the one I want.” Felix pointed to a small gold band with a single, small diamond. The elderly man behind the counter pulled the ring Felix had requested.

“A wise choice son. It's simple and classic. Never goes out of style. Who’s the lucky girl?” Felix handed the man his card and smiled as he looked down at the ring in the box in his hand.

“My best friend.” The older man chuckled and nodded as he processed Felix’s payment.

“My wife is my best friend too. You both will be happy for a long time I’m sure.” Felix shook his head, took his card back, thanked the man and left. He hoped one day you two could be happy together. He hoped one day he’d have the guts to tell you he was in love with you. Until that day he’d hold on to the ring. For now, the two of you would focus on college, you still had two more years to go. There was plenty of time.

Felix looked at the ring he’d had for seven years. The ring he knew he’d propose to you with one day. After Krista’s wedding when the both of you had finally confessed your feelings and made love for the first time Felix started planning. Jim!!

Your one-year anniversary would be the day and that day was fast approaching now. Felix rented out a small restaurant that happened to have outdoor seating in a gorgeous garden. He bought a new suit and you got a new dress that you wouldn’t let Felix peek at.

Felix had told you he had a surprise planned for your anniversary but wouldn’t tell you what this plan was, just the time and to dress nicely.

Felix had everything plotted out. A limo would pick you up and take you to the restaurant, you would have a romantic dinner under the stars, then Felix would pull out the ring explaining how he had got it.

If everything went according to plan you would end up at home, falling into bed together, making love, and then talking wedding plans as you held each other after.

The day finally came and Felix was a ball of nerves. He just needed everything to go perfectly. You deserved for this to be perfect. Since you and Felix lived together now and you wanted your outfit to be a surprise, you got ready in the ensuite bathroom and Felix showered in the master bathroom.

It took you considerably longer, mainly because of the contraption you had to use to zip the back of the damn dress on your own, but you finally got it and finished getting ready. You did your make up in natural shimmery hues, highlights of gold, and a deep red lip. Your hair was down and curled. The look was simple yet elegant.

Your dress was elegant and anything but simple. It was a beige fitted cocktail dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. It had long sheer sleeves that were also fitted, which you liked because you felt like it made your arms look thinner, and it was covered in glitter and delicate beading.

You were wearing your wine-colored Louboutin red bottoms that were a shade or two darker than the lip color you had on. When Felix saw you coming down the hall, he was speechless. You laughed as he stood there slack jawed.

“This is why I didn’t show you, so I could see that look on your face again.” You giggled, walked over and wrapped your arms around Felix as he got his wits back.

“Wow angel, you look... wow!” You backed up, gave a little curtsey, and then smoothed Felix’s lapel and straightened his tie.

“You look amazing Lixie. Who helped you pick out your suit if I didn’t?” You pouted and he wrapped his arms around you pulling you in again and kissing you, one of his hands coming up and cupping your face. He had to fight the urge to fuck you in that dress right then.

“I picked this all by myself thank you very much.” You gave him a face that said ‘not bad’ as you nodded.

“You did well baby.” You leaned in and kissed him again.

“I learned from the best.” Felix winked. He was ecstatic, so far everything was going perfectly.

“Okay babe our ri-” Before Felix could finish his sentence, he got a text alert. He quickly opened his phone and saw the limo driver was having a little car trouble and that he’d be ten minutes late. Felix understood car trouble was not in that man’s power to control and it was only ten minutes.

“Our ride is running just a little behind but it’s a nice night why don’t we wait for him downstairs?” You and Felix headed down for the lobby of your apartment building. Ten minutes came and went, and Felix was getting a little antsy. At fifteen minutes he text the driver and got no reply.

He was a little worried when he saw the night sky starting to become overcast with clouds. He hoped it didn’t rain. Five more minutes after that thought the limo came pulling up and your face lit up.

“Really Lixie a limo? You’re too much.” Felix was relieved. You didn't seem to mind having to wait and as long as you were happy, he was.

“Nothing is too much for you angel.” The driver profusely apologized for his tardiness and explained he’d only just seen Felix’s text when he pulled up. Felix assured him it was fine but that you were on a tight schedule now, so you had to get going.

The driver quickly ushered you two into the back of the limo and headed towards your destination. You were drinking glasses of chilled champagne, about halfway to the restaurant when the car started to slow, then came to a complete stop. The driver put down the divider.

“Sir, I’m terribly sorry but it seems like the limo has broken down.” Felix was pushing his fingers into his eyes frustrated. He knew it wasn’t this man’s fault, so he was trying his best not to take it out on him.

“I understand. What should we do?” The driver said he could get another car there in fifteen minutes and Felix said that would be fine. So, you waited fifteen minutes and this time almost on the dot the other car showed up. What the driver had failed to mention was that the other car was his personal car which was a beat-up, 1985, two door, Nissan Sentra; covered in Bondo and primer paint. Felix’s face fell.

“THAT’S the other car?!” The driver nodded sheepishly.

“Yes sir, I’m so sorry it’s all that I could get for you on such short notice. I’ll refund you the money you paid for the limo. I’m so very sorry sir.” The man seemed genuinely apologetic and embarrassed by his car’s condition. Felix felt bad for him. So you were having a few hiccups in your night. That was okay. You had a car, and you could get to the restaurant now and everything else would go smoothly.

Just as you and Felix had climbed into the backseat you heard a low rumble of thunder. Felix closed his eyes tilted his head upward and said a silent prayer for God to please not let it rain tonight. At least not until dinner was over.

When you got to the restaurant it seemed like the rain might actually hold off. You were amazed at the place just by looking at the outside. Felix helped you out of the back seat and the driver assured him that when it was time to take you back home it would either be a limo or a company car that would be there to get you. He gave his word; Felix appreciated that and thanked the man.

As you were walking inside Felix reached into his pocket for a mint to calm his nervous stomach. The bracelet he was wearing got caught and he had to forcefully pull his hand back out of the pocket. He freed himself but ripped the pocket. Not thinking anything of it, the two of you entered the restaurant and were greeted by the staff.

You were led to the garden patio and seated at a candle-lit table with a beautiful floral arrangement in the middle made up of flowers from the surrounding garden.

“Oh my god Felix this is gorgeous!” It was breathtaking, you were amazed. Felix was over the moon hearing how happy you were. Once you were seated you were served your drinks and the first course appetizer. The whole meal was already selected and planned out just like everything else.

You had managed to make it through a good portion of the meal when there was a sudden bolt of lightning with loud rumbling thunder right after signaling its close proximity to the two of you. It was so close you could both feel the electricity in the air. You jumped and screamed, and Felix flinched.

Then as if God had turned the shower head on full blast a torrential downpour started. The candle was snuffed out immediately, and the two of you were drenched before you could make it inside. Your hair and makeup was ruined, Felix’s suit, but you were laughing.

“That lightning scared the shit out of me Lix!” You said as you clutched your chest and continued chuckling. You were laughing even after everything that had happened. God Felix loved you. Now, now was the time. He went to reach in his pocket and get the ring but when he did the ring was nowhere to be found. He started checking all of his pockets and he instantly started panicking when he remembered the hole.

“NO fuck! Not this too. NO! God damn it it has to be here!” You turned towards your boyfriend concerned about his sudden outburst. You walked up trying to calm him as he still frantically searched his pockets.

“Lix-” He cut you off shouting gathering the attention of the staff towards the two of you. He was so upset he wasn’t thinking clearly.

“NO! No, I... fuck!” He ran out the entrance and back into the rain then stopped and just started to cry. You followed him out and wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“Felix, please, tell me what’s wrong baby.” He turned around facing you. His hand cupping your jaw, his thumb tracing your cheek.

“I was going to propose to you tonight y/n. In a garden under the stars with a ring I’ve had for you since college knowing one day, I’d ask you to marry me but it’s all ruined. The limo, the rain, our clothes, and to top it all off I've lost the ring that I’ve held onto for seven years for you. It’s all ruined, all of it. I wanted it to be perfect, you deserve perfect. A perfect ring, a perfect proposal, a perfect wedding.” You were in shock you had only ever seen Felix worked up like this one other time, last year when he fought Peter.

You couldn’t bear to see him like that. You cupped his face as his tears continued to well up in his eyes and fall. As you were about to lean in and kiss Felix you just so happened to see something reflecting light when glancing down. Something shiny. There, in a puddle, under a bench in front of the restaurant. You knelt down and picked it up and when Felix saw what was in your hand, he reached for it and you pulled it back.

“Wait a minute I want to say something first.” Felix stopped the relief he felt seeing that ring was short lived because of your words. He stood there waiting terrified.

“Felix, you didn’t have to do any of this for the perfect proposal. Anything would have been perfect because it’s you asking me. You could ask me to marry you in the parking lot of a flea market and I’d always say yes Lix. I love you.” You went to hand Felix the ring. He took it from you and got down on one knee in the rain.

“y/n, I’ve loved you since I knew what love was maybe even before. It has always been me and you and I want it to always be us for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?” Tears and raindrops streaked both of your faces as you shook your head yes.

“Yes, Felix yes.” Felix leapt up and kissed you cradling your face in his free hand. He pulled away and slid the ring on your finger. When you saw the simple diamond ring tears continued to spill from your eyes.

“I bought this ring by maxing out the only credit card I owned, it was at the beginning of our junior year of college. I didn’t even know how to tell you I was in love with you but when I saw that ring, I knew I had to buy it, I knew it was the ring I was supposed to propose to you with.” You threw your arms around Felix’s neck and kissed him.

“Felix, I don’t need to stand in front of a bunch of people to tell them something we’ve known forever. Let’s just go to Vegas and get married.” Felix’s started laughing and you just looked at him deadpanned.

“Seriously angel? Vegas?” You nodded and started laughing too.

“Sure, why not? We’ll get married at a quickie chapel, wine and dine, and get a fancy hotel room so I can fuck my new husband’s brain’s out. How’s that sound for a wedding?” Felix pulled you close and kissed you.

“Sounds perfect. When should we do it?” A mischievous smile spread across your whole face.

“Now, tonight, let's just go.” Felix’s face was priceless.

“REALLY!?” You shook your head laughing and pulled Felix in for a deeper kiss.

“Baby I don’t want to waste another moment not being your wife. You help me find them and I’ll book the flights.” He squeezed your soft body in his arms.

“I had planned on fucking you senseless tonight after proposing but I guess I can hold off until you’re Mrs. Lee.” He kissed you again and then both of you, soaked already, ran in the rain to the car waiting for you. You hopped in, immediately grabbed your phones and started looking up flights to Vegas as the driver headed in the direction of your home.

When you got there you both packed as quickly as possible and changed into dry clothes that were more comfortable for a flight. You left notice with your jobs taking vacation days and on your way to the airport, you finally got your flights finalized and booked.

You had a little time to kill, and it turned out Felix couldn’t wait until you were Mrs. Lee after all. Once he pulled into the very deserted long-term parking garage, he drug you into the back seat with him. You were very glad it was an empty parking garage and that you were in a car with tinted windows.

You and Felix had your backseat quickie, then straightened yourselves up a bit and went to go start checking in. Everything went so smoothly you knew this was the right decision. Check in, the flight, finding a hotel, finding a chapel.

Everything was going so smoothly and progressing so quickly you were afraid Felix might change his mind at the altar. What if he’s not as ready as he thought he was, what if he realizes once you're standing in front of some Elvis impersonator officiating your nuptials that he was making a terrible mistake and stopped everything.

You had to force those thoughts from your head. You both were there because you both wanted to get married. You had been together since pre-k and you would be together forever as husband and wife soon. You both slept through the next day after checking into your hotel and when you woke up that evening you started with a couple of pre-nuptial drinks and then started to get ready.

You did very little makeup, just enough for a glow, you were sure to cry most of it off anyway. Your hair was wavy, half up half down with a few tendrils around your face. You had taken some baby’s breath from one of the flower arrangements in your hotel room and placed a couple in your hair.

“I’m heading down now angel; you remember where to go yea?” You giggled shaking your head.

“Yes Lixie, I don’t even have to leave the building, I’ll be there my love. You better be waiting.” He smiled, kissed his fingertips and pressed them to the door.

“I love you see you soon!”

“I love you too Felix.” A few finishing touches, some perfume, and you were ready. You started to head down to the chapel that the hotel had in house. When you walked in a nice lady in a pantsuit welcomed you and guided you just outside of where Felix and the gentleman, who would be officiating, were waiting for you.

You peeked in but could only see the older man that you were very glad to see wasn’t dressed up as Elvis or any other dead music legends. You suddenly heard Bruno Mars ‘Marry You’ and you teared up a bit and laughed knowing that was definitely Felix’s doing.

‘Is it the look in your eyes or is it this dancing juice? Who cares baby, I think I wanna marry you...’ The lady opened the doors to the chapel and standing there was Felix in a crisp blue tux with a matching bow tie, a little baby’s breath tucked into his pocket. He had noticed you taking some for your hair. You couldn’t help the tears that were welling in your eyes at the sight of the man you loved more than anything standing at the altar looking at you like that.

‘Cause it’s a beautiful night, we’re looking for something dumb to do, hey baby, I think I wanna marry you...’ The moment the woman in the pantsuit moved and Felix saw you he was breathless. He called you angel and he’d be damned if you didn’t look like one standing there.

You were wearing a gorgeous dress made from polka dotted tulle. It had fitted white lining with spaghetti straps and dramatic belled sleeves made from the same tulle that covered the skirt and bodice. It came to about mid-thigh and had a small train made from the same spotted fabric and you had on white Louboutin's finishing off your wedding ensemble.

You made your way up the aisle while the rest of the song played out. When you were standing in front of Felix it felt so unreal. He was about to be your husband, your best friend, your everything. He leaned in and kissed your cheek, and you swiped the tears away from his freckled face. He grabbed your hands and held them as you both looked to the elderly man smiling down at you.

“The joining of two people in marriage is a historic tradition binding a couple together with their love and devotion to each other. The vows they make today represent this commitment to their partner and serve as the foundation of their union. As we reflect on the love these two people share for each other I wish to share a quote from the ancient Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu; “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” Despite this quote originating over two thousand years ago, its message still resonates today as the love between Felix and y/n gives them strength and courage to face life’s challenges head on, hand in hand, for years to come.” Perfect was the only way you could describe the words the man had said. Perfect. Tears continued to streak your face.

“The rings you exchange today are the physical embodiment of the love you share. They represent the commitment made today and the devotion of yourself to your partner as a continuous, unending band. Whenever you look at your rings, remember the feelings you share on this day and let the love and devotion you have for each other continue to fill each day of your marriage. I ask the couple to repeat after me as they exchange their rings.” You and Felix turned to each other and had the biggest dumbest smiles on your face. You were both so happy. The older man turned to you and told you to repeat after him. He gave you the words and you repeated.

“Please take this ring as a token of my love for you above all others. I promise to respect and support you wholeheartedly through whatever challenges life may bring. With this ring I am yours.” The man handed you the simple gold band you and Felix had both picked, and you started to slide it on Felix’s ring finger. Then the man asked you.

“Do you y/n take Felix to be your partner? To love and cherish them as long as you live?” You teared up again and nodded.

“For as long as I live. I do.” The older gentleman turned to Felix and had him repeat his words as well and Felix did so.

“Please take this ring as a token of my love for you above ALL others. I promise to respect and support you wholeheartedly through whatever challenges life may bring. With this ring I am yours.” The man handed Felix the matching gold band of yours and Felix started to place it on your finger with the diamond ring he’d proposed with. Then the man asked him.

“Do you Felix take y/n to be your partner? To love and cherish them as long as you live?” Felix was never more sure of something in his life.

“For as long as I live and after. I do.” You both looked up at the man officiating with teary eyes.

“It is my honor to officially introduce Mr. and Mrs. Lee! You may now seal your union with your first kiss as a married couple!” Felix wasted no time cupping your face leaning in and locking his lips to yours. Sealing your love together forever. You were now officially husband and wife! You couldn’t believe it.

“Did we really just do that?!” You asked Felix while laughing hysterically.

“We sure did Mrs. Lee.” He kissed you again and you both dashed out of the chapel to enjoy the rest of your evening as husband and wife. You had dinner and drinks then went dancing.

Afterwords, you went walking around. You had a couple of nice strangers snap a photo of you kissing in front of the fountain. You thanked them as you took your phone back and when you turned around Felix was looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. He walked over and rested his hands on your full hips, pulling you close. He kissed your lips, then your cheek, then your ear. He whispered.

“We should probably get back to the room soon because...” He playfully grazed his teeth on your neck.

“I really wanna fuck you right now Mrs. Lee.” You kissed him passionately, not caring about the other people around you.

“I won’t ever get tired of hearing you call me that.” You kissed him again and then pressed your lips to his ear.

“And I’ll never get tired of having your cock inside me, so let's go hubby.” You pecked his cheek and started pulling him up the sidewalk towards your hotel. You both rushed back to your room. You ran into the bathroom to freshen up a bit and get out of your dress while Felix took no time undressing and getting into bed. When you went to come out of the bathroom you peeked around the corner and then a leg was revealed, and Felix laughed.

When you stepped out from around the corner he instantly stopped laughing. His dick had already been hard but seeing you standing there in that white mesh lingerie with straps that softly dug into your plush body, Felix was rock hard.

“Oh angel, you shouldn’t have.” He patted the bed, and you smiled ear to ear as you went over and crawled in with your husband. You sat on Felix straddling his legs running your hands up and down his bare thighs as his cock twitched and leaked pre-cum. You gently grabbed him by the shaft bent over and licked the tip making Felix moan out in his low voice.

“Fuck please please suck on it angel.” You hummed in delight at both your husband’s words and taste.

“You want me to suck on it Lixie?” He looked down and your nodding threading his fingers through your hair guiding you towards his dick again.

“Yes baby be a good girl and suck me off.” You wrapped your lips around his cock and started to slide up and down taking him deep into your mouth. Spit collecting quickly, making it easier to take more of him.

“That’s it- fuck! My wife is so gorgeous, my wife looks so good with my cock in her mouth. Will look even better when I put it in that pretty pussy.” You moaned. The way Felix looked like an angel and spoke like the devil had your juices practically dripping from you. You started sucking Felix off with more enthusiasm and he felt his orgasm quickly approaching.

“Wait wait, we can’t waste this. Gotta cum inside you, that’s where it belongs, in that tight hole.” You rolled off of Felix and laid back on the bed as he climbed over you, his hands running down the sheer fabric of your lingerie until he got to the garters. He unsnapped the first and then the other, then slid his hand into the front of your panties and dipped two fingers inside you.

“Fuck who got you all wet baby?” You started to blush but when Felix curled his fingers into your g-spot as he slid your panties down and off, it signaled he wanted an answer.

“My husband, my husband got me wet. You Lix.” He smiled and placed wet kisses on the insides of your thighs.

“Good girl, and now I’m going to get you soaked for me.” Felix spread your lips and started gently sucking on your clit. The fingers that were inside you continued to work at your g-spot and every time he hummed it sent the same kind of electricity through your body that you had felt the other night when lightning struck near you. Felix feasted on you for what felt like forever coaxing you close to the edge but not pushing you over. Finally, you begged.

“Felix! PLEASE make me cum!” Felix wasn’t one to torture you by withholding your orgasm and he wasn’t about to start now. He sucked on your clit and hummed while he slightly pumped his fingers in and out of you and you finally came undone.

“Fe-Fel-Felix! Yesyesyes! Oh my god! Yes!” He eased you through your orgasm while your legs shook. He ran his hands up your body and grabbed a hold of the shoulder straps, pulling them down and freeing your breasts.

He sucked on one, your nipple pebbled when he nibbled on it with his front teeth, then he did the same to the other. Felix was propped over you; you were caged between his arms underneath him trying to catch your breath. He hovered over you watching you lay there like a blushing angel. Glowing post orgasm.

“God damn, I fucking love you y/n.” You opened your eyes and saw him looking down at you and you could see all the love in his eyes he was trying to express. You teared up.

“I love you too Felix.” A tear fell down your cheek and Felix swiped it away before kissing you softly while slowly sliding inside you. You moaned.

“Fuck you feel so good angel. So tight.” He started a slow pace pulling out and pushing back inside you a little harder and faster each time. After a few minutes Felix sat up, grabbed a hold of your squishy hips, and started fucking you hard.

“Yesyesyes just like that Lixie fuck yes! Harder baby fuck me harder!” God if you kept up talking like that Felix was going to cum way too soon. He fucked you harder and your breasts bounced with every hard thrust into you.

“Fuck baby you look so sexy like that, tits out bouncing for me.” Felix grabbed hand fulls of your big breasts as he fucked you hard and fast.

“Fuck close baby, I’m so close! You gonna cum with me huh? Gonna let me cum inside you?” You laid there utterly fucked out under your husband taking his cock and loving everything he was asking you.

“Yes Felix yes! Cum inside me fill me up my love!” Felix pushed your thick thighs back and pounded into you hard hitting your g-spot with precision.

“I’ll fill you up alright, gonna fill you so good, fill you with my babies.” You clenched hard.

“Oh, does that sound good to you angel? You want me to cum in you? Get you pregnant? You want to have my babies?” You clenched again as you moaned out.

“Yes, fuck Felix I want to have your babies. Give it to me Lix.” Felix moaned and the sound of his gravel-y low voice sent you hurtling into your second orgasm. The way your walls squeezed around Felix’s cock it was only two more pumps into you before he was filling you up.

“That’s it! Fucking take it all. God damn so much fucking cum!” Felix fucked his seed into you deep until he started to soften inside you. He pulled out and slumped on the bed next to you trying to calm his racing heart.

After Felix caught his breath, he ran a hot bubble bath for the both of you just like he always did when you fucked hard like that. After your bath you both fell into bed and curled up together. Felix ran his fingers through your hair as you both drifted off to sleep, your first night as husband and wife.

You and your husband Felix were having lunch at the café down the street from your apartment building. You went there all the time, so it was a special place for the two of you. It had only been a little over a month since your whirlwind marriage. Your parents hadn’t been thrilled about the how, but they were over the moon to have Felix as part of the family. Felix’s folks were about the same, just happy to have you together and in love.

The cafe was a special place and that was why you chose to do what you had to do there. You weren’t sure how Felix would react. Would he be upset? You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t realize you had been sitting there completely silent for quite a while. Finally, Felix spoke up.

“Are you okay angel? You seem... I don't know, not yourself the last few days.” You hadn’t been. Not since you had gotten the phone call. You were scared mostly, of so many things, so many outcomes.

“I’m okay Felix, I just... there’s something I need to talk to you about.” Felix’s face fell and he looked worried, his furrowed brow creating creases in his forehead.

“No baby no, it’s...Felix... I’m pregnant.” All of the tension left Felix’s body and he let out a sigh of relief with his hand over his heart.

“Oh, holy shit don’t do that to me! I thought you were going to say you wanted an annulment.” You shook your head.

“No Lixie I love you I’m so happy to be your wife. I would never. I was just scared to tell you about the baby. I know our wedding night; I mean I know we both ran our mouths quite a lot about babies, but we never really confirmed if that was a real goal for us. I didn’t know how you would react, especially with us just getting married.” Felix grabbed your hands over the table and gently squeezed.

“Angel this might not have been planned, we might have only been a couple for a year and married two months, but we’ve known each other our whole lives. This baby just confirms what I’ve always known, that we were meant to be together, to love each other, to have a family. I love you y/n.” Felix leaned over the table and kissed you. Your waitress, the same older red headed lady that always served you two walked over to take your order.

“Get a room you two.” You all laughed as you discreetly wiped your tears away. Then Felix looked at you and you knew what he was asking without a word being said, you nodded.

“We did that’s how I knocked her up!” The older woman laughed and hugged you both congratulating you on your growing family.

“Lunch is on the house today kids. What can I get ya?” You placed your orders and the red-haired lady left congratulating the two of you again. Your next words just came out. You hadn’t really planned on asking.

“Aren’t you scared at all?” Felix was taken back by your question.

“Well of course I am angel but I’m more excited than scared. Why? Are you scared love?” You nodded with tears in your eyes again and Felix got up to sit next to you. He wrapped you in his arms and you hugged onto him tightly.

“What if something bad happens to me, or worse the baby? What if I’m a terrible mother? What if...” Felix cupped your face brushing away your tears and kissed you softly.

“I know it’s easier for me to say than for you to believe but everything will be okay love. Alright? I’ll be here with you every step of the way and we’ll get through it just like we have everything else. The two... well three of us.” You sniffled and wiped the rest of your tears away.

“I believe you Felix. I love you.” Felix kissed you and placed his hand on your soft tummy.

“I love you two.”

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