#he’s not some saint be so fucking for real

[starboye]

starring: santa claus x male reader

request: SO. Santa is visiting a young man, the reader, who is actually at the top of the nice list this year. Santa comes down the chimney and, instead of cookies and milk, finds the reader fucking himself with a candy cane, looking at naughty drawings of the very St. Nick himself! Clearly, the reader deserves to be on the naughty list. Unfortunately, Santa didn’t bring any coal! Surely, a day long, brutal plowing from his Saint Nick Dick will be enough punishment, right?

warnings: smut, cursing, really rough sex, fucking yourself with a candy cane

christmas, the best time and the time to get present for the great old saint nick (if you believe in that kind of thing) and what do you know it seems you were a good boy this year so you're the first stop of the night getting a visit from santa.

as long as this has been going on the old man expected to find some cookies and milk out like any other year or even a note bit instead he reaches the end of the chimney and finds you fucking yourself with a candy cane "oh dear what is this all about" santa asks, eyes darting around what sound be a very good boy but it seems only a naughty one lives here.

"santa i wasn't expecting you" you moan, the delicious treat plunging deeper and deeper into you, this isn't right naughty boys deserve all the coal in the world but uh oh it seems he forgot it in his sleigh and he's getting hard in his jeans so what other pusnishment could he choose.

walking over to you and standing above you with a mean look written over his face "why don't you pleasure yourself with something more real" santa says pulling his pants down to reveal his thick cock and you jump at the offer, wrapping you hand around it and sinking your mouth onto it, not being able to get it all in you just stroked the rest with your shaking hand.

"no need to be nervous boy, santas gonna take real good care of you tonight" the old man says before grabbing both sides of your head and fucking your mouth roughly with no remorse more the gagging sounds you make, a bunch of obscenities leaving his mouth as you took him in your throat.

"turn around boy" he orders pulling out from your mouth and stroking his cock to the juicy sight of your plump ass, it just looked so fuckable and fucked is what he did, plowing your hole open nice and wide with his long cock, calling you such a nasty boy for being a slut to the joy bringer of december "what is mrs.claus not putting out enough" you joke earning a stinging slap from the big man, a red mark being left on your skin which probably wont go away for another months or so.

"shut up boy before you cant walk for a month" he threatens but like doesn't that sound like such a good time, so you continue to hurl jokes at him just enough to where he fucks you so hard your hole feels like it's being ripped apart, he did this all night, making sure you understood the consequences of being naughty.

fucking you until you passed out, waking up the next morning sore and unable to fully move but finding a letter from the man himself saying "i hope to see you next year the same way i left you" and maybe this isn't a bad thing, i mean getting fucked by santa is better than any present i've ever gotten.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[heretyc]

Outlast Trials Antagonists When You're Dying [Drabbles]

....[Shrug]. These are platonic, but can be read as romantic. All up to you.

In these, you were beaten by a large grunt. This is 100% inspired from my rebirth trial where I died because of Barbi and a grunt teaming up against me. I know the revive pills only work AFTER you die, but just pretend they bring you back from the dying state.

There's no Y/N mechanic. They each have their little nicknames for you lol. I have absolutely no idea how to write for Gooseberry so I tried my best :( She's very, um...unpredictable.

The electrical cracks against the atmosphere usually filled you with fear, but when you're on the ground with blood coating your head like a halo, maybe it brought comfort. Coyle's grumbling usually made you amused.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me, Commie?" Coyle's voice shrilled, and he stomped over to you, "Did you seriously get fucked up by a large bitch? I thought you were smarter than that!"

He looked down at you with such disgust, such distaste. He just sighed and shook his head, lighting his cigarette with his baton. "Lookie here...I'm gonna bring you the fuck back. Just stop being a dumbass...that's how you let the pinkie flag worshippers win."

Coyle stomped off down the hall, and returned with a bottle of pills. He bent down, gripping you by the neck, and pouring the pills into your mouth. "Now swallow. This shit better work."

"Are ya fuckin' joking with me right now?" Familiar footsteps waddled over to your soon-to-be carcass, and you could already smell rotten cologne and bloodshed, "You, of all people, bested by a giant son-of-a-bitch?"

Barbi's laugh was genuine, and mocking in nature, "How the fuck does that happen, sweetness? Huh?" He gently kicked your head, the tip of his boot cold against your temple, "You dodge Lupara no fuckin' problem! But some fatass, who can't even fit in this shithole, does you in?! Not on my fuckin' watch." Barbi punched into something glass, and came back with a pill bottle, shaking it like you would a baby bottle, "Here. These'll help. Don't say I didn't do nothin' nice for ya." He popped the cap before bending down, and ripping your mouth open, his gloves grazing your tongue. "This shit better not happen again...you're better than this. And that's coming from a Barbi."

"Phyllis, no," the puppet screeched, "they reek of rotten teeth and a rotten mind. Don't act like a fucking saint."

"Oh, but daddy...Dr. Futterman," Gooseberry's voice sounded desperate and just a tad pitiful, "They're dying...we can't educate dead people about good hygiene, there's no market for that..."

"Phyllis," the puppet screamed, "Shut the fuck up, and then shut the fuck up again." He remained silent for a moment, before he sighed, "But you have a point. Go get the pills. Now."

"Yes, daddy," the woman fretted, and you wanted to die. Maybe shout for the grunt. You felt...so awkward right now.

The woman came back, and bent over you, "Open wide...just like taking a sweetie," The bottle was open, and she poured a pil inside of your mouth.

The puppet got real close to your face, its drill sharp and shrill as it powered on, "Make sure you brush your fuckin' teeth."

You'd strangle that puppet if you could.

[raskolnyxov]

the anya curly ship pisses me the fuck off it’s not even funny an angel loses its wings every time ppl act like curly’s some saint saviour when his role is so explicitly the exact opposite to that in the game be so fr

[luvsavos]

so not only does genki canonly exist in the reboot but it seems strongly implied that he and doc ketchum worked together at some point??? i do not like that concept At All!

[depresseddepot]

I'm reading the winternight trilogy by katherine arden and I gotta be honest, I am obsessed with whatever fucked up nonsense konstantin has got going on

[seosracha]

⸻ SAINT MATTHEW'S ACADEMY

─"do you know about all the filth that goes on in here?"

SYNOPSIS ⸻ being a smart kid comes with a lot of advantages; one of them being a full scholarship to one of the best schools in the country. one of the best school's that's filled to the brim with disgustingly rich teenagers. Heeseung knows you're not like them, and he also knows that'll be easy to take advantage of.

PAIRING ⸻ toxic!heeseung x innocentfem!reader

GENRE ⸻ strangers to lovers, private school au, smut, fluff, angst (idek tbh)

TAGS ⸻ characters are all 18 or older, toxic relationships, misogyny, alcohol abuse, smoking, marijuana/cannabis mention, partying, underage drinking, foul language, cheating (not really though) power imbalance, abuse (punches are getting thrown..) , kinda love triangle?? , making out, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), virginity loss, p in v, pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, tell me if i missed something!

WORDCOUNT ⸻ 21k

everything here is FICTIONAL, it is not real. this was created for entertainment purposes only. MINORS DNI.

“No Eunseok, I don’t want to go anywhere!” you grit your teeth, backing away from your older brother. 

He sighed, and with his hand pulled your wrist towards the doorway. You were acting like a brat, and he had absolutely no interest in fighting with you right now. From your standpoint, you had every reason to be behaving this way. 

“There are thousands- no, millions of people your age who would die for an opportunity like this, and you're going to act like a child? Grow up, Y/n” he let out a steady breath as an attempt to calm himself down. 

In some way, you put yourself in this situation. Flawless scores on all your exams, juggling multiple extracurriculars and excelling at every single one of them, participating in every Model UN you could get your hands on, making a name for yourself- being somebody. It all led to you being noticed by prestigious schools, who practically begged to host you, even though deep down, you were a nobody. 

Your parents weren't snobby rich people, who thrived off of other people's ideas and failure. They weren't greedy either, working normal 9 to 5 jobs. 

When you were merely 12 years old they had left to go work at your uncle's company overseas, hoping that it’ll allow them to make enough money to pay for your brother’s med school tuition and potentially have the money to fund a future clinic of his. They promised to come back as soon as Eunseok finished school and started a stable job. But they never did. 

Eunseok, who was 7 years older than you, was always the favorite child. No matter how well you did or how bad he did, Eunseok was number one in your parents' hearts. There was never a family reunion where Eunseok’s medical career as a surgeon wasn't brought up- and when it did end up getting shoved into the conversation, it didn't stop until all the lights turned off. 

And of course, you felt bad for your brother. He had to balance taking care of you and being a surgeon for fucks sake, but that didn't mean you couldn't feel lonely most of the time. You had a free hand when it came to inviting friends over, but unfortunately their strict parents and every other circumstance never allowed them to stay longer than one night. Your only family,  your older brother who you looked up to was just never there, and you just sank deeper into your loneliness whenever he called and apologized for a sudden surgery that came up. 

But still, Eunseok, was just perfect, you had no choice but to try and keep up with him. 

So when the letter from Saint Matthew’s Academy came in the mail, offering you a spot in their school, with the tuition fully paid for by them, you didn't even think twice. 

And now you regret that, badly. 

St. Matthews Academy was a private school next to the town you grew up in. It was also an exceptionally expensive place, with tuition fees racking up to about $80.000 per year. Going there would be a privilege to most people your age, but the students there saw it as a regular school without anything special to offer them. Even if they weren't going to inherit their parents’ company's, they were truly set up for the rest of their lives anyways. 

You hadn't really done any research on the school before accepting their offer, only aware of their students academic achievements and high level of education. The more you found out, the more the idea of being a student terrified you. 

You would stick out like a sore thumb amidst the successful people who had a chairman position prescribed before birth. 

“It’ll be okay, do you think if I let the fear get to me, I’d be a SNU alumni now?” Eunseok asked, focused on the road as he drove you right into the gates of your own, personal hell. 

“We get it, you finished SNU and are a surgeon now, blah blah blah” you said, and he rolled his eyes playfully. 

“I’m just trying to help you. I doubt those kids are going to be that bad. They have a reputation to upkeep anyways, can’t be caught bullying” he tried to calm you down, but everytime he opened his mouth, he just made it worse. 

“Eunseok, you’re making it worse” you murmured, tucking at the skin of your thumb. He placed his hand on yours, preventing you from continuing with your bad habits “That’s exactly why I’m scared. These kids are disgustingly rich, and people like us-  well we're like ants compared to them. They have an image to polish, and I have none of that” you continued, and he frowned lightly, his heart breaking at your, his little sisters, words. 

“Do you seriously think you got to be in this position cause you’re a nobody? I don’t think regular and undeserving people have been given a full scholarship to a school like Saint Matthew’s. Nobody has been given a scholarship from them really” Eunseok said, making you feel slightly more confident “I can turn around, you can withdraw, but I think you’ll regret that” he said, with a light smile which you reciprocated. 

Maybe you should have told him to turn around back then, maybe you should've denied the offer or thrown it away the moment you saw the letter with that heinous stamp. 

_____ 

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop thinking about what your first day was going to be like. Some dreams portrayed you as the future top 3 of the school, and some seemed to make you out to be the outcast loser who can’t seem to find anyone who’d befriend her. 

It was nearly impossible to get those images out of your head. You thought about lying about your background, falsifying stories about your parents who own giant multi-utility corporations that supply petrol and energy to half the country, but that was pointless. 

You could either be made fun of for lying or made fun of for being a ‘poor nobody’. None of them seemed right, but one didn't lead to being incredibly embarrassed for the rest of highschool. 

The building did not have any correlation with the one that you imagined, the one that you constantly dreamed about. It looked nothing like the modern, smart, couple story construction that clouded your mind beyond arrival, and because of their strict laws, pictures and videos of both the inside and outside were strictly prohibited. 

So all you had left was to make up your own assumptions, and the old fashioned, palace looking property was definitely not one of them. You assumed that the millions of dollars in tuition that flow into the headmaster's account every year could at least allow him to renovate the building. 

But it seemed as if the gray, dirty, moss covered outer walls had a special meaning you didn't quite understand. 

You definitely weren't a sucker for historical architecture, and this building looked more like a nightmare than a dream to you. 

At the front office, the lady had confiscated your phone, with a smile explaining why they do it, and asking you to pick it up after classes are over. She had a creepy aura surrounding her, and you begged for her small introduction to finish as soon as possible. 

“I’ll let Wonyoung, your class president, give you a tour around our school. She should be here in a moment, dear” she smiled eagerly at you, and you found it hard to reciprocate her seemingly innocent expression. 

You never expected Wonyoung to be an actual angel, her figure already shining brightly as she strides towards you. You wondered how it was possible for someone to make a school uniform look this good. Her hair was long and silky, and her bangs just looked fake with how fresh and bouncy they were. 

You smoothed down your uniform and fixed up your hair as she got closer to you and the eerie lady next to you. 

“You're the new student, right?” she waved at you, and shot you with a pretty smile. 

You had no idea how to behave, acknowledging that she probably came from a wealthy family that practically owns the country. 

But Wonyoung was a little different. Her parents didn't own any big corporations or participate in any other money making schemes. Both her mom and dad met on the set for a movie that later led them to become the highest paid actors in the industry. It was pretty comical to say she was different as she still was considered a product of nepotism in the modeling world that she was so active in. She hadn't even finished highschool, but had already walked for brands like Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Maison Margiela and more. Maybe it was her pretty face or just her parents' wild connections. 

“Mind if I give you a small tour? It can get complicated around here” she asked, her tone so delicate. 

If anything you should be thanking her for sparing you with a little bit of time, thanking her for even allowing someone like you to be in the presence of someone like her. 

You nodded your head not able to let a single word out, afraid to embarrass yourself. With a smile Wonyoung locked her arm with yours, and kept you close by her side as she showed you around the place. 

“This is the cafeteria, but I wouldn't recommend you going there, the food is awful” she said, and you laughed lightly at her expression. 

Was it awful cause it wasn't a three course meal with caviar, steak and truffles for dessert or was it actually not that good. You really did not fit in here and you haven't met anyone else.

“Well I see that guy is enjoying it” you commented, noticing a tall, skinny boy laughing with his friend as he consumed something you couldn't quite recognize. 

Wonyoung laughed, in the most elegant way possible, and her cheeks flushed a light shade of pink “That’s Park Sunghoon, my boyfriend. He will eat anything, seriously” she stated and you nodded with a chuckle. 

Park Sunghoon was son to Park Jiwon, the CEO of ParkJin Electronics. His mother had worked hard all her life to build up her own empire, resulting in him being raised mainly by nannies and his cousins. Still, he was spoiled and cocky, his family allegedly had royal roots, and even though he didn't know himself, he boasted about it every single occasion he got. He didn't seem to care much about studying, since he was the only child his mother ever had, he was next in line to inherit her electronic empire. Yet something in him felt the desire to prove to everyone that no matter what, he deserved to take over.  

He also surrounded himself with people of the same social status and net worth as him, so that’s probably why he treated Wonyoung so differently, even though she was his literal girlfriend. Wonyoung was rich, but she could never compare to the millions his mother earned yearly. 

Yet he was so good at pretending and gaslighting the girl into believing she's the bad person for lashing out on him after he called her ‘the type of person who polishes shoes for people like him’. He was just joking around, right? But the poor girl took it because the good moments overshadowed the absolute idiot Park Sunghoon was capable of being. 

“And next to him? Who’s that” you asked, politely pointing towards the blond boy next to him who’s jawline looked like it was shaped by Micheal Angelo himself. 

“That’s Jongseong, but we just call him Jay,” Wonyoung answered, looking at you with a pretty smile. Did everything she does have to be so annoyingly beautiful and perfect? 

Park Jay was born in Seattle, so he was the American heartthrob that flexed his posh English skills in order to pull girls he had no interest in having serious relationships with. His dad owned the biggest hospital in the country, and on top of that had plastic surgery salons opened in practically every city. His parents had divorced when his dad's businesses started to gain popularity and bring in more money. His father assumed that his wife no longer appealed to him, and she would just be like a parasite- living off of his success. And since Jay had been harshly raised by his rough father, he shared the same opinion about his mother. Not having a motherly figure present in his life, surrounding himself with his fathers girlfriends who were only 10 years older than him, he became a Andrew Tate worshiping incel who’s main focus was making money and convincing everyone to join his self-betterment program. 

“He’s nice, but I think his political and social views are a little far from the ones that girls like us have” she attempted to explain, and pretty quickly you understood he’s a misogynist. 

“I see, is your boyfriend the same?” you asked, trying to sound as polite as you can, since you didn't quite know where Wonyoung wouldl draw the line. 

“No, at least I’d hope he isn't” she chuckled lightly, and slowly tugged you towards another large hall in the school “He was raised by women, his dad passed away when he was around 3, so I guess he has at least some respect for us” she added, and you nodded in understanding. 

“This school is really freaking big, I don’t know if I’ll be able to find my way around here” you commented and she chuckled at your use of words. 

“You can say fucking, I really don’t mind” Wonyoung looked at you, and you breathed out a steady breath “I don’t want you to think of us as some posh, elegant and royal like teenagers who use a fork and knife every time they eat. I genuinely think most of us are pretty normal considering our backgrounds” she explained, and you had to stifle a laugh. 

Although Wonyoung seemed like an incredibly nice and sweet girl, she truly had no idea how privileged she was. Truly, her only worry was you not thinking she’s a snobby rich kid. And that applied to all of them, you just didn't see yourself empathizing with these people, seeing how you were raised in two completely different worlds. 

“It’s my first time talking to people like you, don't have much experience” you smiled and raised your hands in guilt. 

She laughed at your action, and asked “What do you mean, what do your parents do then?” 

You didn't want to answer that question, you didn't even want anyone to ask it in the first place. But you had to answer honestly. 

“Both of my parents live overseas, but they're no one special. My dad is a construction worker and my mom has a simple office job” you said, and she didn't seem to laugh or find your parents’ profession amusing in any way “I live with my brother, he’s a surgeon” you added, and she seemed to light up at the mention. 

“I want to be a surgeon too!” she beamed and you smiled as she ignored and didn't care about the fact that you weren't the future heiress of a major conglomerate “I need to speak to your brother one day, maybe he’ll give me some advice” she added and with a smile you assured her you’ll set up a meeting for the two of them one day. 

She pulled you through a dark, narrow, dimly lit hallway to a giant room with a high ceiling where most of the students were currently spending their time. 

“This is the common room” she said, as the two of you stood in the entryway. 

Laughter ringed in your ears as you attempted to examine every student present in the area. 

“Let me introduce you to Niki!” she beamed and pulled your wrist towards the unknown boy. 

Niki was the son of the owners of the biggest pharmaceutical company in the country. Even though he had no interest in taking over the business, his younger sister wasn't seen as competent enough to take over, so he was forced to be the next CEO. His parents and Jay’s father were close friends, planning on merging the two companies by arranging a marriage between Jay’s younger sister and Niki. His true passion was dance, he hated everything that had to do with medication, but he knew there was no chance he’d ever get to pursue his passion for a living. 

“Niki!” she called to the boy, and he turned around, swiftly taking off his headphones. 

“Not gonna go shop for makeup with you today, forget it” he claimed, not even noticing you standing right next to her. 

“Oh please, as if I’d want to go with you” she sneered and he chuckled under his breath. “I wanted to introduce you to Y/n, she’s new here!” she continued, and he took a judging look at you. 

Or at least it felt as if he was judging you, scanning you up and down as if you weren't wearing the same exact uniform as him. But quickly he shot you with a small smile, and stuck his hand out for you to shake. You applied and as nicely as you could, returned the expression. 

“You’ll regret coming here, Y/n” he warned with a laugh, and you chuckled, but deep down felt like maybe he wasn't joking. 

“Stop scaring her” Wonyoung said sternly, and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow “I like it here, don’t listen to him Y/nnie” 

“Maybe because you're a fucking nerd who’s a teachers pet?” he asked sarcastically, and Wonyoung just rolled her eyes playfully. 

You stood there listening to their bickering, already getting a weird feeling that you didn't really belong here, these people were not the usual kind you surround yourself with. 

“What brings you here?” he asked, which turned your attention back to the two people in front of you. 

“I got an invitation, full ride scholarship and all” you explained and his eyes widened. 

“You're a smart girl, aren't you?” he asked, and you chuckled lightly. 

“You could say that, I guess” you said, and he looked towards Wonyoung. 

“I guess you’ll finally have a smarty pants friend to talk to about the theory of relativity, or whatever you call it” he cooed, and she flipped him off. 

“Jake used to be my nerdy bestie, well until he started hanging out with Jay and attending his dumbass courses” she laughed looking towards you, and he did the same nodding his head. 

“Let’s be honest, ever since they created their little frat circle with Heeseung and Sunghoon, they suffered insane brain damage. But the courses were also bad enough” Niki inquired, and she laughed, agreeing with him. 

Jake’s parents were real estate giants, owning at least half of the properties in the city. He had been raised with the thought of taking over his parents’ business, so he was actually the only one in his friend circle that studied and strived to achieve something. His mother or father would never let him take over if he had nothing in his head. Jake actually wanted to become a real estate agent, because after seeing his parents succeed, he wanted to be just like them. 

“What exactly are these courses about?” you asked, and Niki quickly opened his phone to show you the website Jay and his computer geek friend Jungwon set up. 

You didn't even bother asking the boy how he managed to sneak a phone in, assuming the one lying in the basket at the front desk, was probably one of his many devices. 

“He tries to convince men that they need to unleash their inner sigma to fully embrace their manliness or something like that” he explained as you grabbed his phone to look through the website. 

It looked like a failed IT project they had to do in class, and honestly you didn't understand why anyone would trust him enough to receive life advice. 

“I can't believe that people actually listen to his advice” you commented, handing back Niki his phone. 

“That’s not even the worst of it, he genuinely thinks that if men were to become pregnant, they would give birth in two weeks since they’re stronger, something along those lines” Wonyoung added, and you couldn't help but burst out laughing. 

Maybe you were getting along with them, but the eerie atmosphere around you and the blank stares you received from other students grounded you. 

“Yo new girl, wanna come to a party tonight?” Niki turned towards you with a questioning expression. 

You have been studying your whole life, cramming information until late hours of the night, which resulted in you having to give up your social life or anything of that sort. You had friends, but never the time to go out with them. So this would be your first party ever, and you had no idea how to behave. 

“Sure,” you replied, not giving it any more thought. If you started overthinking it, you’d probably deny the request. 

“Put in your number, I’ll send you the address” he gave you his phone once again, and you swiftly typed in your digits, saving your contact under ‘Song Y/n’. 

“Show me your schedule, I’ll walk you to your next class” Wonyoung turned to you, and you dug up the crumbled piece of paper you received at the front office. 

_______

Niki had eventually texted you the address, offering a ride along with it, unless you already had one. You gladly accepted his offer, although his kindness seemed weird and suspicious to you. 

Maybe you just weren't used to people being nice to you simply out of human decency and without any ulterior motives, but someone as high up and rich as Niki or Wonyoung should not be bothered by someone like you. They definitely shouldn't be offering you rides in their expensive sports cars. 

“Oh c’mon Wony, we gotta give our transfer the princess treatment” he said, shooing her away from the passenger seat with his hand. 

She rolled her eyes playfully, but agreed to give up her front seat, which you tried to convince her to take back for a little over a minute. 

“No Y/nnie, you're probably going to meet our little devil tonight, you need as much peace as you can get before that” she assured, and you just shook your head at her reluctance. 

“And who exactly are you talking about?” you asked, turning around to once again face Wonyoung who already got comfortable in the back seat.

“I’ll ask you that question tomorrow morning, it’s more fun that we keep it a secret for now” she giggled childishly, and Niki nodded his head approvingly at her idea. 

You sighed sarcastically, and tried to remember any person they didn't go into full detail about just a couple of hours ago. Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, all of them kept getting mixed up in your head as you had no real idea as to what the three looked like. You passed by the cafeteria with Wonyoung earlier, where you didn’t quite register what Jay and Sunghoon looked like. Maybe it’s someone completely different, or someone affiliated with the three guys you had a fair amount of information about. 

“You drink, don’t you?” Niki asked, turning his head to face you for just a mere second, before focusing his eyes back on the road. 

“Not really” you answered unbothered. 

Drinking was nothing to be proud about anyways, and assuming Niki doesn't want to lose his recently acquired drivers license, he probably wasn't going to do it either. 

“Same here. Me and Wony don’t drink” he smiled “But the rest of them, their a different kind of fucked up. Especially your precious, sweet, innocent boyfriend, Wonyoung” he added, and looked at the girl through his rear view mirror. 

She screwed her face jokingly “Sunghoon doesn't drink that much, at least now that he’s with me” she defended, and he scoffed. 

“And you’re stupid for thinking he’s not getting shit faced every weekend with his demonic cult of a friend group” he commented, and she huffed in annoyance crossing her arms. 

“Y/nnie, you know what Hoon looks like, right?” she turned her attention to you. 

You shook your head, causing her to pull out her phone in order to present you with pictures of her beloved boyfriend. 

He was smoking fucking hot, but his expression and lack of emotion on every picture made you think that maybe Niki was right, he truly looked like he didn't give a single fuck about the girl. Well it seems to be working out for them so far, so who are you to butt in. 

“Keep an eye on him, I need to prove that my boyfriend is not the alcoholic and druggie you-” she pointed her finger at Niki “make him out to be” 

“No problem” you smiled and she excitedly held your hand. 

“Just when you do catch him chugging down shot glasses like a pig, don't tell her cause she won't believe you anyways” he murmured, but the both of you heard him anyways. 

You turned to Wonyoung and rolled your eyes playfully which she gave you a hushed giggle at, agreeing with whatever you were thinking about. 

The road felt like it had been going on forever, you swore you already saw the same street signs and lanterns a couple minutes back. It felt like Niki had been going in circles, but those thoughts were most likely caused by your absence in this area of town. 

After what felt like an eternity in Niki’s uncomfortable low-floor car, that was impossible to get comfortable in, he had finally pulled over into a gravel filled space. In the distance a modern house was illuminated by colorful lights, and the music could be quietly heard from the place you were standing in. 

The interior of the place was suffocating you, the music giving you a headache, the smell of cigarettes, weed, alcohol and sweat seeping into your skin, as you and Wonyoung pushed through the crowd. Wonyoung didn't seem to be affected as she pushed through the bodies in order to find her boyfriend who she must have missed terribly for the past five hours. 

“Sunghoonnie!” she beamed, and his body instantly turned to the sound of her squeaky voice. 

He was hard to read, you didn't exactly know if he was excited to see her or praying for her to leave him and his friends alone. He held a glass with a brownish liquid in his hand, and you knew for a fact Wonyoung was trying to ignore it or pretend it wasn't what everyone else knew it was. 

Sunghoon was obviously drinking whiskey. 

Even they're choice of alcohol was so different from what you knew back in your public school. Those kids could barely afford the cheapest liquor, and here you were witnessing Sunghoon and his friends downing bottles worth more than the pocket money your brother gave you every month. 

“Oh great, two Wonyoung’s. Can’t women just stick to painting their nails and doing their makeup? This is not the place for you” Jay commented as he finally noticed the two of you. 

“Did your daddy teach you that? I wasn't talking to you, dickhead” the girl next to you answered with a sarcastic pout to her face. 

“I’m Jake” the brown haired boy stuck his hand out “You're new, right?” 

Wonyoung had already let you go to entertain her boyfriend who obviously was not having it. Even as she was eating his face, he wasn't half as passionate about it as she was. 

“Yeah” you took his hand “Y/n” 

He had a devilish grin as he and the blond boy exchanged glances. 

“So where are you coming from?” Jake asked, but his eyes weren't even focused on your face, instead staring right into your partially exposed chest. 

You sighed, and leaned against the wall “Doesn't matter” maybe you had a terrible judgment of character, but you knew that admitting to coming from a public, low income school would end you right then and there. 

“You’re right, it doesn't” he smirked, hoping that you had understood his intentions by now, “Want a drink?” he asked, turning around to unveil a couple glasses and a bottle of Dalmore whiskey. 

“I don't really drink” you explained, trying to keep up with your nonchalant facade that you prayed would spare you some embarrassment tonight. 

It felt stressful to be around them, their demeanor intimidating. 

“Oh c’mon, one little glass never hurt anyone” Jay uttered, already pouring a glass that he was shoving into your hand a couple seconds later. 

He looked incredibly hot doing so, his slicked back blond hair and white button down almost making you forget he’s a mentally unstable and misogynistic idiot. 

Did they all have to be so irresistibly hot? Was being rich not enough? 

“Drink it, there’s a reward afterwards” he added, as his attempts to place the glass in your hand turned out to be successful. 

“Only if you’re a good girl” Jake added, and Jay with a devilish smile hit his shoulder. 

You examined the glass, remembering all the stories of boys spiking drinks with drugs that Eunseok told you about, but all that seemed so unimportant right now. 

You promised yourself to never go against what your mind told you, but that was broken the minute you downed the glass, the unfamiliar, burning flavor coating your throat. 

“Atta girl” Jake praised, as he took the glass from your hand.

“Women are so easy, it’s crazy” Jay whispered, assuring you wouldn't hear his words “Let me pour you another one” he said, his voice a little louder this time. 

You shook your head, but he seemed to ignore that all together, grabbing the cup and filling it to the brim once again. 

“Drink up” Jake slurred, and focused his eyes onto the way your throat looked while you swallowed the liquid. 

They were disgusting. The way they objectified you, the way they looked at you like you were going to let them hit without any problems. 

The boys you knew would make jokes, but they’d never act on it like Jay and Jake did. 

You slammed the glass on the table where it was previously laid, and without a word turned away from the two men who were clearly confused about your sudden departure. 

“We’ll see each other soon, yeah?” Jake called, and with a forced smile you mouthed a ‘Maybe’. 

“She still doesn't know about all the filth that goes on in here, eh?” Jay chuckled devilishly, and Jake smirked, pouring himself a drink in the cup you left behind. 

You had already thought that Wonyoung and Niki were completely different from the people you used to surround yourself with, but after meeting Jake and Jay, you cursed yourself for even thinking that. You had given up your social life, so meeting new people regularly was never something that you did, but you never met someone so deranged. Were the girls at this school all so easy and compliant to their orders? You just wondered where their ego came from. 

Squeezing through all the damp bodies was definitely a challenge, but finding a quiet and empty room surely made it worth it. 

The room was practically empty, you assumed something that was supposed to resemble a guest bedroom, but you doubted any guest would wanna sleep here. A single bed in the middle of the large room was not enough. 

You closed the door behind you with a quiet squeak, and threw yourself on the bed, your eyes facing the ceiling. 

Amongst the weird smell that surrounded the room a voice called you “You're the new girl, aren't you?” 

You didn't notice the open balcony door upon entering. 

Your body automatically turned to face the voice, a handsome and presumably tall boy sat on one of the plastic chairs. Smoke circled around him as he looked at you with heavy eyelids, taking another hit from the joint between his fingers. 

You leaned your head on the palm of your hand “How do you know?” 

“News spreads fast around here. You don’t know, do you?” he gave you a childish smile, and with a nod to his head he without a word offered you to smoke with him, which you declined. 

“What’s your name?” you asked him, his dark eyes bringing discomfort to your body. 

“Why should I tell you, transfer?” he laughed, and you stiffened up at his answer. “It’s Heeseung” he said after a moment, noticing that you were not enjoying his jokes. 

Lee Heeseung was the youngest son of Lee Guwon and Kim Shinhye, the founders and owners of the largest hotel line in the country. They just recently went international, opening yet another hotel-restaurant in the heart of Singapore. His older sister, Lee Rina, had no interest in the company, firmly convinced that it's a greedy industry. She moved to Norway to study and just never came back. But his older brother, Lee Haejun, was different. He was stuck on the idea of becoming the next CEO. After both him and Heeseung were old enough to understand what benefits came with being a leader of a major hotel line, they stopped treating each other like brothers, instead focusing on the rivalry that was brewing. They wanted so badly to prove to their father who's more competent, who deserves it more, that at one point it became too much. 

Heeseung at one point no longer wanted any of it. He just wanted his brother back. Haejun just never was the same brother Heeseung learned to love. He didn't care. Heeseung felt like he lost both of his siblings although they weren't actually gone. 

“I don’t think they mentioned you” you murmured, trying to recall the conversations you had with Wonyoung and Niki. 

“Wonyoung and Niki? Probably because they don't like me” he laughed, and put out his blunt on the tiles of the balcony, throwing what was left into a jar filled with water. 

“They like everyone, I think it’s a ‘you’ problem” you assumed, and he scoffed. 

His body sluggishly stood up from the chair, as he tried to not fall over the balcony “Both of them are fake as fuck, and I don’t think you’re one to judge” 

You sighed “You don’t know them” 

“I know them better than you, transfer” he chuckled, “They always cuddle up to new students, just like Wonyoung did to Jake, and whenever they go slightly out of line, they drop them” he explained, and you foolishly didn't believe his words, choosing to stand with your new friends who you in reality, knew nothing about. 

“I don’t know, I don't think the Jake that I just met, and got forced to drink by, is a good example” you murmured, playing with your hair, avoiding eye contact with the boy. 

He had this dark aura surrounding him, his hooded eyes just adding into his image, making him look much more scary. 

He slowly moved towards you, accompanying you on the silk covered bed. That’s when you could truly analyze his face; bloodshot, brown eyes, a curve to his lips, his nose slightly pointed and eyebrows straight. His skin was glistening, a soft tan to it. He looked at you so intensely, and you couldn't quite reciprocate, scared of his intimidating presence. 

“Jake was always like this, they just didn't know how to handle him” he smiled, his hand inching closer to where your legs lied “They love saying that Jay ruined him, but he didn't even have to do that” 

“What do you mean by having to do that? Why would he have to?” you asked, as your body froze, not allowing you to move further away from him. 

He didn't stop attempting to close the gap between the two of you “You know what I mean” he smirked “This isn't the place you think it is, pretty girl. We can't have a goody two shoes prancing around” his smile was straight, as his hand moved to sooth your lower thigh. 

You never were this close to a boy before. 

“I still don't get it” you said, your voice trembling as he moved further up. 

“You don't need to, you’ll see for yourself. Soon, don't worry” he cooed, and you could feel his sinister words burn through your skin. 

“You like this? Tell me” he asked, his grip on your thigh tightened, and you felt words get stuck in your throat. 

“ I don’t know you, Heeseung” you answered out of breath. 

He liked the way his name slipped from your lips, your tone mellow and soothing. He could definitely get used to it. 

“You don’t need to know everyone you want to have a little fun with” his eyes twinkled slightly, as he spoke softly, trying to distract you from his touch moving to places you  probably wouldn't like him being in. 

“Do you do this to every girl you just meet?” you piqued, and he chuckled, finally taking out his hand from under your dress in order to move a strand of hair out of your face. 

“Only the ones I find pretty” he answered. 

Heeseung was such a lightweight, he couldn't stop his smile and laughter as he played with you, knowing you could pretend, but not resist him. He wanted to undress you right there and then, behind an unlocked door, which he’d hoped some disgusting pervert like Jake would open, they could perhaps have you together, share your body. But he was smarter than that. He couldn't alienate you so early on. 

“Maybe another time” you murmured, giving up your previous position to stand up from the bed. 

He didn't let you, standing up with you, blocking you from walking to the door. He stumbled a little bit, but managed to hold you down. 

“You wanted to get to know me, what happened to that?” he whispered. 

“I never said that” you replied, and attempted once again to leave the room. 

No one has ever had this effect on you. You didn't truly want to leave, not only his firm stance was keeping you away from that door. 

You had boyfriends, but all of them were too scared to even hold your hand in public, not to mention kiss you. So you were aware of these things, but not familiar with them. 

“Why do you have to be so tough? I just want to make you feel good? What’s the crime in that?” he cooed, and brought his hand up to caress your cheek. 

“I always wanted it to be special, not some one night stand” you voiced, and he hummed. 

It felt so weird and embarrassing to talk to him like this. You didn't know him. You also couldn't say no, cause some part of you wanted it too. 

Maybe it’s because you wanted to fit in, maybe because you didn't want to be any different from the people that went to this school. But you’d always be different- as long as your parents weren't owners of a giant conglomerate or business, you’d always be different. 

“My sweet girl is a virgin? That’s okay, don’t be embarrassed” he cooed, and squeezed your hand tightly. 

You never knew how hard it is to be sober and talk to a high person. He just didn't fully comprehend the environment that surrounded him, not a single ounce of fear or embarrassment in his veins, just nothingness. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked with a soft voice.

Heeseung knew exactly what he was doing, he knew exactly how his slurred words sounded and how they affected you. 

You nodded, and he grabbed your jaw, pulling you into his embrace. Nothing could have prepared you for his wet, plump lips that molded perfectly into yours. You felt so good against him, and he couldn't find himself pulling away, the bulge in his pants growing as you fingers slightly brushed along the longer strands of hair on the back of his head. 

It was all so new to you. Maybe it was the alcohol that Jake and Jay forced down your throat, or maybe you just couldn't help but naturally feel attracted to Heeseung. It’s been barely 24 hours, and you’ve broken all the promises you made to yourself. 

While you were overthinking, Heeseung wondered just how long until he gets to fuck your pretty, virgin hole.  

“Mmm, it wasn't that hard, was it?” he smiled as he was forced to pull away out of lack of air, his eyes practically closing on him. 

You avoided his gaze, a small smile on your swollen lips. He laughed softly, and grabbed your hand in his. 

“I just want to help you. You’re a big girl, you should know how the world works” he cooed, dumbing you down. But you accepted it. Every word of his you took in and analyzed. Maybe he was right. 

He was this big, important rich guy from an important family, and you were just living in his world. You were nothing like him, his worries surrounded taking over the company or not, while you had to wonder if you had the money to go out with your friend on the weekend. You could try, but you’ll never be the same. 

And Heeseung knew that. He knew how much power he had over you simply because his bank account was decorated by nothing less than quadruple digits. 

“I don’t think you should be hanging out with Wonyoung and Niki. They're fake, you know?” he whispered, and focused his eyes on you “Let me be the one you come to when you need help, okay?” 

You nodded, and he just hummed in approval, liking the way you agreed with anything he said. 

You knew he was treating you like a child, babying you and bossing you around like he even had any right to do so, but you didn't find yourself stopping him either. 

To you he spoke with such delicacy, and he paid attention to you in a way no one ever has. Heeseung was different from anyone you encountered, and that’s exactly what pulled you in, forcing you to uncover more about him. 

But he just liked how you gave into his words way easier than he thought you would. He never knew it would be this easy to manipulate you. Heeseung never expected you to so naively believe that Wonyoung and Niki were the ones who were going to do you wrong, that they were the ones to cuddle up to new students in order to drop them just moments later. He had you where he wanted you and it didn't even take him a full hour. 

______

“You didn’t text me last night, did you get home alright?” Wonyoung asked, settling down next to you in the study hall. 

You ignored her gaze, her shuffling and moving, making an annoyed groan escape from your lips. 

“Yeah,” you replied swiftly, turning your attention back to the worksheet in front of you. 

Heeseung’s words had stuck with you. You couldn’t fathom the idea of Niki and Wonyoung, one of the nicest, most welcoming people you have ever met, being bullies. But perhaps that was the reason for their warm introduction. They wanted you to trust them. 

Niki, noticing that Wonyoung had finally joined you in the study hall, turned around in his chair, taking out one of his airpods. 

“Did you find who we were talking about in the car? A special someone told me they saw you together last night” Niki smiled widely like an idiot, and Wonyoung giggled, awaiting your answer. 

You scoffed “The so-called devil” and murmured “Heeseung, right? He was very nice, I don’t get it” 

They laughed, and you felt something twist inside of you at the sound of their forced posh, and elegant laughter. 

“That’s the point. He’s nice at first, to get you to like him, trust him, and then he strikes” Niki told, and to you it sounded like he was describing his little mutual admiration circle with Wonyoung. 

“I don’t know, honestly. He seemed like a good person” you inquired quietly, trying to focus on the work you had to do. 

“Let me guess, he asked for consent, or said he ‘just wants to help you’, and you believed he’s a respectful guy? Y/n don’t be so naive” Wonyoung said sternly, and you scoffed, remembering how her boyfriend’s best friends treated you. Sunghoon was probably no different, so who was she to judge? 

“You're dating Sunghoon, Wonyoung. Mind you, he’s one of the all so bad Heeseung’s friends” 

Niki and Wonyoung looked at each other confused, wondering why you were suddenly being so cold and distant. 

“He wasn’t like that always,” she said, and you looked at her questioning. 

“You think people can change so drastically, just like that? He always had it in him, he just found the right people to unleash it with, that’s all” you answered, and she felt her body shift slightly. 

Sunghoon transferred to Saint Matthews in his sophomore year, after studying abroad in an international school in Singapore. No one could really know if Sunghoon was any different before he joined, because he almost immediately hit it off with Heeseung, and his friend group. 

“You don’t know what you're talking about” Niki said, with an annoyed look on his face. 

“Oh kill me then. All I know is the shitty little gig you’re playing on me. I know what you guys do to new students- shape them to be your perfect little servant, and then drop them when it stops being amusing to you. Just like you did to Jake. So stop trying to blame everything on Heeseung when you know damn well he's not a bad person” you replied frustrated, collecting all your things, and standing up to leave the space. 

Niki and Wonyoung were stunned at your words, following you until you disappeared out the door. 

They realized you truly had met Heeseung, and that there was no turning back now. 

Just like any girl, he had you tied to his leash, and they were powerless. 

____

“Yeah, it’s crazy. I didn’t expect her to fold so easily” Heeseung laughed, as he downed another shot of tequila Jay stole from his dads alcohol cabinet. His father owned so many bottles he probably wouldn’t notice one of them went missing. 

Just like he didn’t notice his son's worsening alcoholic tendencies. 

“No trust me, she didn’t even fight back that much when we offered her whiskey” Jake sneered, and Jay grinned evilly. 

Jay was the first one to notice you. He caught a glimpse of you as you stood so shyly in the cafeterias entryway, Wonyoung happily talking to you, as you looked around the place. He didn’t recognize your face.  

You were pretty to him. Your face gleaned with innocence, and he could smell the way you were so intimidated by the people and sinister atmosphere of the school. He couldn’t even bother listening to whatever Sunghoon was going on about next to his ear, focused on only you. He knew exactly what happened to sweet girls like you, and he couldn’t wait for it. 

And maybe at one point in time he could have you too. His big hands would slowly take off your shirt, his fingers slipping down under your jeans, pressing against your pulsing core. You’d tell him to stop, and he’d only laugh in your ear, unbuckling his belt. 

“Wonyoung said she flipped off on them today when they mentioned you” Sunghoon tuned to Heeseung, pouring himself another shot “Niki said it’s like this with every girl, and she totally went bonkers on them or some shit” he laughed before his face twisted as the burning liquid slid down his throat. 

“That’s so pathetic. She doesn’t even know him” Jake chuckled, and leaned back in his seat, his back melting into the soft cushion. 

“That’s like the whole point, she isn’t supposed to know,” Heeseung noted, and they nodded slightly. “And I don’t think that’s more pathetic than Wonyoung leeching onto Sunghoon even though he doesn’t even hide the fact he doesn’t like her in the slightest” 

Jay scoffed sarcastically “Defending her so quickly, sure” he hummed, and Heeseung rolled his eyes. 

“My mom got her a campaign with our company, and now she thinks we’re gonna get married. It’s so annoying” Sunghoon explained, and they laughed. 

“Then just breakup with her. She needs you, but you don’t need her, dude” Jake commented, and Sunghoon shook his head lively. 

“She’s nice to have around. And it’s not like I don’t like her at all, she just gets on my nerves” he explained. 

“When my mom pissed off my dad, she got divorce papers handed to her, and kicked out the door. Women are supposed to serve men, not be an obstacle. All she is, is an obstacle. You’re taking over your mom’s company, you can’t let her get in the way” Jay turned to Sunghoon, who just pretended to listen to his nonsense. 

Maybe Jay was one of his best friends, but he couldn’t bear listening to his bullshit. He grew up around women- a single mother, his nannies who were strictly women (since his mother didn’t trust men around her only child), and cousins who were practically only girls. He knew women could achieve things alone, his mother being his best example. 

“So, what is your plan?” Jake averted his gaze to Heeseung, who didn’t seem to be amused by the conversation surrounding you and Wonyoung. 

“Was there ever a plan? She doesn’t even put up a fight, and already blew up on her new friends. This won’t be hard” he answered, and Jake nodded, satisfied with Heeseung’s answer. 

“I think you guys are wasting your time, honestly” Sunghoon commented. 

Jay looked at him annoyed “You and your feminist bullshit again” he murmured, and didn’t even bother pouring the substance into his shot glass, drinking straight from the bottle. 

“Jesus Christ, Jay. Just cause I have the tiniest percentage of respect for women, doesn’t mean I’m some fucking feminist. I’m not stopping you from seducing that girl, I just think it’s a waste of time. If you want pussy so bad, just find yourself a hook up, it’s not that hard” he answered, and Jay seemed to accept his answer, too tired to start another fight about this with his friend. 

“We’re only 19, Sunghoon. It won't hurt to have some fun while we can” Jake piqued, and with a swift movement of his hand, grabbed the bottle from the floor, tilting it to pour the rest of liquid into his mouth. 

“I just think that's kind of unappreciative” he murmured, and all of them turned to him. Jay rolled his eyes and with a sigh ushered Sunghoon to continue “A shit load of kids our age don't get to have half the opportunities we do, so if I were you I wouldn't fuck around so much, but actually put in the work to maybe prove that we aren't fucking imbeciles who just sit around and get chauffeured all day” he explained, and they all looked at him with a confused gaze. 

“Says the one who is failing practically all his classes. And what does any of that have to do with Y/n? What do you like her or something? You can hit if you want, it’s an open game” Jay laughed, and Sunghoon sighed.

But he wasn't annoyed, just incredibly frustrated that none of his friends understood what he was trying to convey to them. 

He didn't study, at least not much, and even though he was always aware of the fact that he will most definitely take over his mothers company, he didn't quite like the idea of people thinking he only did because there were no other options. In some way he wanted to earn it, or at least feel like he did deserve it. 

“It’s most definitely not an open game” Heeseung commented, and Jay looked at him with wide eyes. 

“What? C’mon dude, she’s some public school transfer, it’s just fun and games. Don't start being all protective and jealous over her” he scoffed, this being the second time that Heeseung made a comment of that sort about you. 

Jay didn't like this new found protectiveness Heeseung had acquired for you even though barely 24 hours ago he was making equally nasty and perverted comments about you. 

“You're being an asshole today, you know that right?” Heeseung started, his eyes scanning the room, avoiding Jay. 

“I’m being an asshole? All of you suddenly started acting like some fuckass henpecked husbands, when this would be the exact behavior you’d make fun of just a month ago” he groaned, gritting his teeth. 

“I’m sorry Jay that your mom doesn't love you, and your dad only sees you as a token of business, but we weren't raised like that” Sunghoon said, standing up from his seat, ready to leave. 

“That’s fucked up Hoon” Jake whispered, looking at Jay’s spechless expression. 

“You know what else is fucked up Jake? That Jay is a fucking misogynist and Heeseung is some otherworldly type of addict and no is trying to help them. I have been the only person who has been putting in the slightest amount of effort to try and get them help, but I can't possibly do it alone. That’s fucked up Jaeyun. I’m leaving” he blew up, grabbing all his things, and with a tired sigh he left the living room, going straight for the door. 

It was true. Maybe Sunghoon was an idiot and sometimes acted like a huge asshole, but he was right. He loved his friends and seeing them ruin and throw their lives away hurt him. But everyone who was caught up in the same wind, didn't seem to notice. 

“Call me when you fucking grow up, Sunghoon” Jay shouted, an angered expression plastered all over his face as the door slams abruptly. 

All three of them sat in silence as they tried to figure out what happened in the span of just a couple minutes. How did the conversation come down to Jay and Heeseung having issues, and why was Sunghoon suddenly trying to act all sweet and caring when he never did care.

 Or at least they didn't notice the countless times Sunghoon tried to stop them, but to no avail. 

“I think I’m gonna go too,” Heeseung said, after a moment of dead silence. 

Without a word, Jay and Jake nodded, still not quite present in the moment. 

That’s exactly how Heeseung ended up in your home, dumping all his issues onto you as you attempted to comfort him with a slight brush of your fingers against his soft hair. 

Your outbreak with Wonyoung and Niki, left you feeling alone once again. Those thoughts kept eating you alive, but you knew that's exactly what they wanted. They wanted you to desperately crawl back to them, begging for another chance as you cried out an apology. 

You knew that coming back to them would only prove this (untrue) point of them using you and many others for their own pleasure. Turning around, and apologizing would hurt your pride beyond repair. 

And it wasn't like Heeseung was making this up either. His heart genuinely cracked at the sight of his friends fighting. 

They fought, all the time, but there was no comparing this to a fight over who gets to take the first hit or who gets to play the better character, to Sunghoon leaving completely, his harsh words still lingering in the air. 

He wasn't an addict. He was a normal teenager doing normal teenager things. He wasn't wrong for being curious.

“I’m happy that you stood up for me today, at study hall” he said, his voice low as your touch was putting him in a sleepy state. 

“How do you know about that?” you asked, not even having the time to tell him about it. 

He smiled, rolling on his side to face you “Sunghoon told me” 

“Are you really not mad at me?” you tilted your head curiously. 

He laughed, and lifting himself from your lap, he grabbed your hand in his. You could feel his warm touch embrace you fully, the action alone was enough to calm your uneasy heart. 

“No one stands up for me. I could never be mad at you for being on my side even though you barely know me” he admitted, and it made your plush lips form into a small smile. 

“Your friends never stand up for you? I find that hard to believe, Hee” 

He likes the way his name slips from your lips, the usage of the nickname forcing him to stifle the growing, uncomfortable feeling in his pants. He hated the fact that he had to control himself around you. But still, he loved the innocent look on your face as you were so oblivious to the boner in his pants. 

“They just don't know how to, I think,” he said in a whisper. “They're too caught up in their own lives, and I don't blame them. They have a lot on their plate as it is” he added, his lips forming into a straight smile, as he tried to look apologetic in front of you. 

Heeseung wanted you to see him as this complex, emotional being that's only purpose on earth is to help others. His financial situation wasn't helping him create this image, he feared that you’d think he’s just searching for problems, wanting to experience life with all the hardships that a person like him doesn't usually get bothered by. 

But you never thought so, you viewed Heeseung the exact way he wanted you to. You believed in every word he said. If only he knew that though, his cocky nature would probably fight its way to domination. 

“You’re a good friend, Heeseung” you smiled, squeezing his hand tighter. He chuckled lightly, looking at you with the same straight smile “You have me now, you know that? You said you’d help me whenever, and I want to do the same for you” 

You vividly remember his lips on yours. You can recall exactly how he tasted and how he felt against your own skin. He helped you reach some otherworldly ecstacy without going further than a simple touch. You knew you wanted him to be more, but it was too early for that admission, too early to let yourself sink in that feeling. 

You didn't understand what was going on between the two of you, where this connection was heading, and in some way it thrilled you. You couldn't possibly be friends, not after what he said that night. 

“I hope you know I meant everything I said” he uttered, and you slowly nodded, trying to recall every word that slipped from his pretty lips “I think you’re special” he added. 

Heeseung didn't know himself if this was all fake, cause at that moment it felt too real to him. He was speaking from his heart, in some way. 

Lee Heeseung was beautiful, the closest you’ll get to any godly figure. He couldn't possibly be flawed in any way. 

But there were some things the boy wouldn't even admit to himself. All the fighting, and neglecting, made him out to be this way. He always longed for the type of love no one but a parent could give him. He wanted to be loved so much it picked him apart. Heeseung never experienced what it’s like to care for someone so much, to care for someone unconditionally. 

And as the youngest sibling, no one had that love for him, because there was someone before him. 

“I’m definitely not special, Hee. It’s all you” you smiled, and he laughed softly, his eyes falling onto his lap as a rosy tint decorated his cheeks. 

“It could always be just us. You could come over, and stay till morning” he turned to you, a newfound sincerity in his eyes, as he spoke to you. 

“You’d want that?” you uttered quietly. 

The faint melody playing from the radio became muffled as you sat next to him. You never felt closer to another person, and it was all so new to you. 

“Mhm, really” he confessed, and you believed. 

It was all so domestic- he wanted to escape his family line, but he behaved just like them. Heeseung could never change the blood he was born with, blood of condescending, arrogant, manipulative, money hungry assholes. 

“Will you promise to stay with me?” he asked, ending the comforting silence that embraced you. 

You laughed lightly, finding his worries sweet “I promise” you said sticking out your pinky finger. 

“You still do that?” he said with a soft chuckle. You pouted awaiting his finger that could solidify the promise. 

He laughed and intertwined his pinky with yours. 

_______ 

Spending time with Heeseung was easy. He just always knew what to say and what to do. He was like the sweetest thing bee’s like you would fly towards. 

He had eventually introduced you to Jake, Jay and Sunghoon who eagerly apologized for coming onto you and forcing alcohol down your throat at the party, and stupidly you laughed it off not wanting to give them reasons to dislike you. 

You wanted to fit in with them. Eunseok wasn't as happy, trying to keep up with your new lifestyle, but something deep inside him didn't want to stop. He knew he owed it to you after the years of neglect his parents had presented you with. After the years of living in his shadow maybe this was the only way to repay you. 

Jake had seemed awfully desperate when you first met him. He looked and acted like one of those sleazy guys who adds girls on snapchat and sends them unsolicited dick pics, but he quickly managed to prove you wrong. You rarely spent time alone with him, almost never, but whenever that moment came, Jake became a completely different person. He was nice. He was actually so painstakingly nice to the point where you would ponder his existence in that friend group. 

And Jay- you felt nothing towards the boy. The one thing Wonyoung and Niki got right was his obvious desire to become a Korean Andrew Tate. He had nothing to give except misogynist comments he’d pretend were only jokes, and if you dared to be offended then you simply had no sense of humor. 

Sunghoon, it was hard to describe him. He just didn't really talk much. He was never there, he wasn't present although sitting just across from the ongoing conversation. Maybe he always was this way, or maybe you were the problem. 

But Heeseung, he felt some kind of obsession towards you. He wanted to carve his initials deep into your skin until you bleed a deep shade of red, all out of love for him. He wanted to touch you in the places your mere, inexperienced fingers couldn't reach. He couldn't understand you, he couldn't bear the fact that you didn't fit into the pattern, and it made him sick. 

“Get a fucking grip Y/n!” Wonyoung screamed, tugging at the thick material of your blazer. 

She pulled you discreetly into a dark hallway that connected the music hall to the rest of the school. 

“Don’t touch me” you uttered, trying to peer away from the girl. 

Wonyoung didn't look mad, angry, her face was full of desperation as her glassy eyes looked at your tired face. 

“Don't you see what he’s doing to you? He’s trying to ruin you. Why are you being so fucking stubborn!” she begged for understandment but your face was blank. 

“Are you jealous? What is this about, Wonyoung? God, If you want Sunghoon’s attention then go ask him for it. I don’t know you, and you don't know me” you grit your teeth, as she looked at you terrified. 

“What are you even talking about?” she uttered, her voice cracking. 

“I’m done playing your game. Find another person to play with, I’m sure there's plenty” you replied. 

“Y/n you're not one of us. You never will be, so stop trying so hard. Getting with Heeseung won't help you fit in either. And you better not come to me when he destroys whatever reputation you have left” her words were harsh, and it seemed like your mention of Sunghoon riled her up completely. 

Wonyoung and Sunghoon have been dating for a while now. Only Wonyoung would know the exact timeline since Sunghoon had no interest in celebrating milestones with the girl. 

It wasn't like he didn't like her at all, he wouldn't give her the time of day if that was the case. He just found it thrilling and entertaining, the way she called his name, the way she’d give up everything for him if he asked. Sunghoon’s mother had set him up with the eldest daughter of Taesung Group the moment she found out he’d be a boy, so to him, Wonyoung was just a distraction from the tiring business life his mother engulfed him in. 

“Give it up, Jang Wonyoung” a male voice echoed, footsteps coming closer. 

She looked disgusted when the vision of the boy became clearer. 

“Didn't manipulate her enough today, so you had to come do it here? Fuck off, Heeseung” she sneared. 

Heeseung laughed, and grabbed your hand ostentatiously. Her gaze was glued to your intertwined hands. It made you smile slightly, the way her lip twitched at the vision, it was satisfying. 

“No one’s manipulating anyone. Sorry if that messes up your little narrative” he replied, with a smile that made her want to throw up. 

“I’ve been here long enough to know that's bullshit. You’re full of shit, Lee Heeseung” 

Your eyes flew back and forth as you tried to analyze everything about the situation. 

“Open your eyes, Y/n. Can’t you see it?” she whispered, her expression changing as she turned towards you. 

“I’m not like you, remember? So stop trying to give me advice, it’s pathetic” you voiced, and she scoffed.

“Did she say that to you” Heeseung looked down at you worriedly, and as soon as you nodded slightly, he looked back up to Wonyoung “And I’m the bad guy? At least she didn't have to convince Kim Sunoo’s parents to forcibly get her into the school” he smirked, and Wonyoung with a frustrated groan, positioned her body towards the music hall, leaving you two in the eerie hallway. 

Wonyoung was the best scoring student, but things used to be completely different. She despised studying, keeping a large distance from all sorts of books. But her parents couldn't fathom the idea that Wonyoung would not attend Saint Matthews. So with a bottle of expensive wine and some sweet words, the girl's parents got her in using their connection to Kim Sunoo’s parents who were major politicians in the country. 

She didn't like people bringing that up ever since it drunkenly slipped her while at a birthday party, so Heeseung exposing it in front of you had her embarrassed for the rest of the day. She wanted you to believe her badly, but the revelations only confirmed all your speculations about the girl, making it practically impossible for you to listen to anything she has to say to you from now on. 

… 

“God Wonyoung is such a bitch! Is she jealous? What is her issue seriously” you complained, pacing around Heeseung’s terrifyingly large room. 

It was your first time over at the boys house. It was unusual for you, all the maids showing you around, treating you like royalty, guiding you to every room. Their fake smiles, and forced acts of kindness made you sick. 

His house was colossal, massive, it extended into a vast land and the drive up to it alone was long-lasting. The walk from your apartment to a nearby store wasn’t half the length of his home, and it was appalling to you in a way. 

Heeseung’s room, for contrast, was bright, warm and welcoming. The sunlight shined down on his belongings from the ceiling high window, creating a special space where all his piano, guitars and other musical instruments lay. You recall him telling you about his passion for music, but you took it as more of an underground soundcloud rapper type of situation. 

“It’s just Sunghoon. It’s always been about Sunghoon” he answered calmly, sitting down on his couch, and with his wrought hand, patted down his lap, beckoning you to come to him. 

“Your friends are nice, and all, but you know nothing can substitute a girl best-friend. I just hoped she would be different” you sighed, and placing yourself on Heeseung’s lap, your arms automatically wrapped around his neck, head slightly leaning on his shoulder. 

His hands instinctively encased your waist, his head moving along with his eyes, as he tried to get a better look at your worn out face. 

For a moment Lee Heeseung felt bad, seeing how much comfort the two of you found in each other, knowing he can’t possibly let this go on longer. It started off with pure lust, a need to ruin the scholarship student that knows nothing about life from this side. Now  he was finding himself wanting more, knowing he can’t give it. 

Heeseung wanted to wreck your innocent image, but found himself losing it far before he even had the chance to start his plan. 

“They’re your friends now too, Y/n” he whispered, the moment feeling way too sacred “She’s lying, you know that right?” he asked after a moment of silence. He looked at you once again, checking for your expression. 

“I know, Seungie” your voice is muffled by the material of his jacket, but he can hear your words loud and clear. 

He feels like all the air in his lungs has been vacuumed up, as his last breath hitches in his throat. He feels sick. Your pretty eyes look at him with so much sincerity, trust, yet all he can think about is vivid images of your small frame under him. He can't help but wonder just how much prettier you’d look with tears in your eyes as you’d tell him it hurts. 

His fingers slightly slide over the buttons of your blouse, as he continues to stare deeply into your face, searching for signs to stop. But you look towards him indifferently, a calm expression decorating your features. 

Heeseung’s hand hovers over your uncovered thigh. He wants to feel the wetness that seeps through your panties on his fingers so badly. He wants to slowly unbutton your blouse, his eyes scanning your figure, his hands grabbing onto anything. 

“Do you want to smoke with me?” he asked, hoping that his lessons on how to properly inhale would lead him to something a little more intimate. 

“I haven't done that yet” you admit, and he chuckles. 

“I know. This could be your first” he smiles “Remember, I told you I want to help you. Well I’m doing it now” he added, quickly 

“Am I going to be fine?” you asked, peeling your head off his shoulder to look at him properly. 

Heeseung smiles leaning back on the couch. His fingers delicately push stray strands of hair behind your ear “I’m fine, so I’m sure you’ll be okay” he assures and you nod moderately. 

You deliberately slide off his lap, as he stands up to rummage through the bottom drawer of his dresser. He pulls out a tin box with an adorable puppy on it, and you find it humorous in a way, considering the pretty design is hiding something so toxic inside. 

You remember the sight of high Heeseung very well. He seemed to scare you a little back then, his words slipped from his mouth with so much ease and confidence. 

“You don't have to worry, nobody really gets high on their first try” he places the box on his coffee table, carefully opening it up. 

“Well that’s no fun” you comment. 

“It isn't the case for every new smoker, but still no one really knows why,” he explained, using his extensive knowledge to educate you. 

It wasn't the ideal area of knowledge to know everything about, but it made Heeseung feel good. It made him feel safe whenever he smoked with his friends or new people. He always knew what to do and how to act if something were to go wrong. 

“This weed Jay sold off to me is hella dank, maybe you will feel something after all” he smiled, and even though you had no idea what he was saying, you reciprocated. 

Heeseung pulled out one of his filters, folding it and rolling it into a cylinder. He placed it at the end of his paper, filling it with cannabis and sprinkling just a bit of tobacco inside. He tightened it  and with his tongue moistened the shiny edge of the paper. 

“You need to feel the smoke travel down to your lungs” he explained, searching for a lighter in his pockets “Inhale for like 2 seconds, and take smaller hits so you don't cough so much” he smiled, finally pulling out a green lighter. 

You never were interested in smoking or drinking, but some part of you couldn't deny Heeseung. It was stupid, but perhaps this was your one way ticket to his heart. 

Heeseung lit the joint, staring intensely as the flame moved across the surface, waiting for the right moment to take the first hit. 

He inhaled, his teeth slightly gritting as he exhaled the smoke, the familiar scent hitting your nose. 

He held the blunt between his fingers, and moved closer towards you “I’ll guide you” 

Heeseung propped the lit cannabis next to your lips and with a nod to his head, ushered you to take it into your mouth. You assuringly looked at him, counting down the two seconds in your mind as a burning sensation coated your throat. You felt the smoke travel down to your lungs, pulling away to take a deep breath. With a small cough you exhaled, making Heeseung smile. 

He didn't know he’d enjoy seeing you like this “Good girl” 

You took a long sip of the water that has probably been on his coffee table for a long time, the liquid tasting a little weird. But you didn't care, the need to moisten your throat overpowering the unfresh taste.

“Was it good?” he asked, taking another rip. 

The smoke hit you in the face “Not the best” you answered honestly and he chuckled. 

“It gets better” he assured, and passed you the blunt again. 

… 

It felt weird. Weird in a good way. 

Your eyelids felt heavy, the laughter coming to you naturally. Obviously you didn't feel half as high as Heeseung who swore he was walking in slow motion, but you most certainly were enjoying yourself. 

To Heeseung it feels like an attack on his fragile ego, the fact that he has gotten so far but not on top of you just yet. And even with the minuscule bit of confidence he has earned right now, he needs to at least try. 

Your purity radiates off of every one of your laughs as you intently look at him, just slightly fiddling with the loose string on your skirt. If he moved just a little bit he would probably be able to see what's under the navy material. 

Heeseung’s pants start to feel uncomfortable against his skin once again as you keep on laughing so innocently at his ambiguous jokes only a virgin like you wouldn't understand. 

He wants to feel your lips against his again but this time he knows he won't stop at that. He can't. 

“I want to kiss you so bad” he admitted, and you felt an unknown wave rush through your veins, his face slowly inching closer. 

He waited patiently for a response, his mind well aware that any sudden move would cause his plan to backfire. 

But instead of letting him take the lead, you nearly closed the gap between the two of you, letting your lips just slightly graze against his, smiling as he waited impatiently. 

“Such a tease” he murmured before pressing his pretty mouth against yours, his hands traveling to the back of your neck, holding you still against him. 

He smiled into the kiss, his tongue tasting the familiar vanilla chapstick, the scent of your perfume hypnotizing, making a blur of Heeseung’s mind. The way your lips felt against him even though you were so inexperienced, it felt much more special to him. 

Heeseung’s lips never left your skin, traveling so delicately down to your jaw, placing chaste kisses everywhere he could. His ivory fingers held tightly onto your waist, his other hand cupping your cheek, as he continued to slide down to your neck. 

He wasted no time leaving small, and visible marks, his teeth slightly biting into your skin, the quiet breaths that left your mouth, riling him up even further. 

“Can I?” he asked, Heeseung’s eyes going back and forth from your face to the buttons of your dress shirt. 

With your mouth parted and an unsteady breath you nodded. 

He smirked, and continued to attack your collarbones, his fingers unbuttoning your blouse with ease. 

“You’re so hot” he breathed onto your chest, pressing you down onto the mattress fully. 

The sweet noise that slipped from your lips, made a sly smile reappear on Heeseung's face, his cock twitching in his pants, the material suffocating him. 

If he moved down even a little bit, he’d probably be able to notice the soaking wet patch on your panties. 

The way his lips felt against almost every part of your body, the soft yet sudden touch of his fingers, it all felt way too good to give up. 

Heeseung gave you a knowing look, his face just a couple centimeters from your heat, his hands digging into your thighs. 

He noticed your relectuance “You know I just want to help you” he cooed, soothing down your skin, crawling right back up to face you “Let me make you feel good, pretty girl” 

You weren't afraid of many things in your life, but most importantly, being unraveled by Heeseung and him finding nothing he wants in there. 

You nodded slowly, his smile growing with each one of your nods. You didn't know what he’d do next, the blood in your body pumping faster as you anticipated his next move. 

Heeseung moved up your skirt, and as the fabric moved up, your skin burned with anticipation. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your covered cunt, begging for his attention. 

“So wet” he commented, his hand gently pressing your sensitive core “I barely even touched you” he added, chuckling. 

He gave you one last glance searching for confirmation, which you once again gave him, before sliding off your underwear. Heeseung didn't even bother removing your skirt, his mouth wet with desire.

 Heeseung’s fingers barely hover over your folds, the sole heat that radiates off of him making you squirm, twitching slightly. 

He laughs “So sensitive and for what? Relax, pretty thing”. 

He positions himself against you, his eyes locking with yours as he places swift kisses on your inner thigh. His lips move down in a slow pace, and you have to stop yourself from pushing his head forward. Each peck burns on your shivering skin, overwhelming you to the bone. His breath felt soft on your bare flesh, fingers digging into your thighs. 

His tongue flicked out, coming in contact with you after what felt like eternity. Your legs fight the urge to close on him, his mouth sending shockwaves of pleasure down your body. 

You grab at the nearest pillow, covering your face with it, embarrassed at how exposed you felt in front of him. His tongue delved deeper, lapping up all he could taste of you. 

The heat of his touch, the place that warmed you. The pulse, he could hold onto it alongside other rythmns. He just couldn’t get enough, he wanted to pry you open. Time faded away slowly, as he continued to devour you. 

You were on the edge, teetering between pleasure and pain, your body begging for release, as the knot in your stomach tightened.  

His mouth latched onto you, sucking and flicking with expert precision. He was enjoying himself, the sweet taste of innocence lacing his tongue. The sweet taste of crimson red innocence that he worked so hard to diminish, that he worked so hard to scrape you of. 

Heeseung was probably the closest you'll get to heaven in this lifetime. He was God's favorite, right at your thighs giving you the most beautiful form of pleasure avaliable. 

“Fuck” his chest heaves uneasily, his fingers gripping tightly onto your thighs “I could eat you out everyday” 

You wanted to beg him for more, beg him to let you release as it became even harder to hold it in. Completely and utterly lost in the new sensation, you roll your hips, gliding against his parted lips. 

“Keep doing that, fuck” he slurs, lost in a trance, his only goal being making you feel good. 

You caught a glimpse of him for just a moment- his pretty eyes so focused, his lips swollen and covered in your arousal. With every sound, every small movement, his actions became rougher, the feeling in your stomach becoming unbearable. 

“Cum for me, please” he mumbled against your skin, his desperation to make you cum fueled by the way you can't even form a proper sentence in response. 

Your fingers grip his bed sheets, his name falling from your lips multiple times before you feel the knot in your stomach quickly coming undone, a wave of intense pleasure washing over you. 

“Oh my god” you cried before fully releasing onto his face, his tounge desperately trying to lap up every single drop of his own hard work. 

Your whole body twitched in the aftermath of your climax, Heeseung still holding you down, his pretty lips back on your thighs and stomach, as he waited out your high with you. 

“So pretty,” he murmured, looking at you with lovesick eyes. 

With just a small blunt that barely got any of you high, Heeseung managed to get you just halfway where he needed you. Obviously, he’d rather have you on your knees in front of him, tears filling up your eyes as he pushed your head further down his cock, but this was enough to satisfy him, for now. 

He was peeling apart your innocence slowly, but surely, and his ego was never higher. 

______

It’s been a long time since you’ve talked to Aeri Uchinaga. 

Aeri, or how everyone liked to call her, Giselle, was one of your closest friends from the “lower class” school you used to go to. She was like a sister to you, the only ‘family’ you ever truly had in your life.

You promised yourself to never let go of your values and never let your relationship with Aeri falter, but both of those things went down the drain a long long time ago. 

Seeing the messages between the two of you lose all their momentum, become less frequent, and come down to ‘How’s Saint Matthews’ or ‘How are you holding up over there?’ frightened you. 

Would she even want to talk to you? Would she pick up if you called? Would she care? 

“I don’t know. Maybe I should just let it go?” you said, scrolling through all the messages you and Aeri shared over the past month, noticing how you could probably count them with two hands. 

Heeseung hummed, turning away from his calculus worksheets “I think if she cared enough she’d reach out. She should understand you're busy with your new life and be the first one to initiate conversations and all” 

It was partially true. Why should you be the only one to care and keep the friendship going? She should also try more, shouldn't she? 

“I’ve known her for years, Hee. I can't just let go that easily” you murmured, and he scoffed quietly. 

“But you have me now, isn't that enough?” he asked, his expression emotionless. 

Heeseung didn't even realize his words came out much more arrogantly than he intended. 

“I know, I’m sorry” you looked down “I just still want her to be in my life, that’s all” he hummed in approval, finding it annoying, the way your words implied like he wasn’t satisfying you in every sector. 

Jay, who sat opposite of you in the study hall, sighed ostentatiously. 

“Then just text her? I don't see the issue, seriously” he commented, pulling one of his airpods out of his ear, apparently tired of hearing you complain about such an ‘easy matter’. 

“It’s not that easy, Jay” Sunghoon mumbled, not taking his eyes off the work in front of him. 

Jay gave him a questioning look, deciding not to continue the conversation, way too tired for another fight with Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon had been behaving awfully weird ever since the fight at the apartment. He suddenly felt the need to comment on everything slightly negative that Jay or anyone else said towards you. That was one of the primal reasons for the group's continuous fighting. 

“Let’s get out of here” Heeseung turned to you after a moment of uncomfortable silence. 

You nodded reluctantly, still not finished with the stacks of papers you had to complete by tonight. But you could never deny Lee Heeseung. Not with the way his eyes glare at you intensely, and definitely not with the way his hand grips yours tightly, pulling you away from the table, not leaving a second for goodbyes. Not like you’d want to fakely smile at Park Jongseong with a wave; you fucking hated his guts. 

“You’re being weird today” you notice, his body facing away from you, pulling you towards an unknown destination. 

You still haven't fully addressed the lingering tension that stuck to you after what happened. But since Heeseung didn't bother mentioning it, you decided that it probably would be better to leave it at that. Sex, with all the ways it came in, was normal, and you were sooo normal about it too. 

“I’m not” 

Heeseung couldn't avoid the growing pain in his heart, recalling whatever the fuck he did back at his house, seemingly starting to realize that it probably wasn't something he needed to do, but something he wanted to do. 

For fucks sake, he never came out with the initiative to eat a girl out, and he most definitely never just left it at that, not even getting his dick wet in the process. 

The usually loud and bustling atmosphere of the student common space seemed to be gone, the bean bags and couches empty, no student in hindsight. 

“I just can't be around them anymore,” he added after a rather long moment, sitting down with a thud on one of the black couches. 

“Did you fight again?” you asked, placing yourself down next to him, your hands almost automatically finding their way to his own. 

“You could say that” he chuckled, recalling how Jake once again brought up your topic, which led to yet another heated discussion. 

“You should talk to them, this has been happening way too much recently” you ushered, and he shook his head with another small laugh. 

“They are most definitely not those kinds of people. Don't think I've had a serious conversation with them like ever”

Heeseung, Jake, Jay and Sunghoon have been friends for quite a long time now, especially Heeseung and Jay, and their lack of communication was astonishing. Every fight would be brushed off, they’d just pretend nothing happened and laugh it off. Every hard decision would have to be made individually because asking for advice was pointless. It wasn't easy with them and Heeseung knew that. 

“Either way, I’m happy you talk to me about it, maybe it can ease your mind just a little” you smiled, and he reciprocated, looking at you. 

“Yeah, it does help” he confirmed, and leaned back. 

Heeseung lived by night. As soon as the sun set it was as if his sins were disguised. So he hated the way his mind was slowly coming to the realization that the stupid plan he made was set for disaster the moment he sought out for you in the morning. 

“Do you want to come over after classes?” he asked, playing with the hem of your skirt, the seemingly innocent action making your heart flutter nervously. 

“I’m over there almost everyday” you laugh, and so does he, a snide smile on his lips. 

“You know your fate then” he says, his hand still inching closer, the public space that surrounded you having no effect on him. 

“Why are your parents never home?” you ask, and he finds it humorous in a way. Obviously owners of a multimillion company would never find time to spend back at home with their adult sons. 

The difference between you and Heeseung was that you knew your parents wouldn't be there to welcome you home everyday. You knew it was impossible. Heeseung could only suspect or assume, because his parents had given up on telling him when they’ll return from a business trip a long time ago. 

“They’re busy, I guess” he said, with a small sigh “Or at least they pretend to be, I wouldn't be shocked if the multiple business trips were just vacations” he laughed, his gaze falling onto you again. 

“At least you have your brother there” you smiled and he chuckled, he most definitely did not have a brother in reality. 

“Honestly, if he wasn't there it wouldn't make much of a difference” Heeseung sighed, and even though he’s gotten used to the relationship he shared with his brother, it still saddened him in a way. 

“It’s about the company, right?” you asked, and he nodded with a chuckle. 

“Smart girl” he cooed, ruffling your hair softly. You laughed, and shoved his hand off playfully. 

It wasn’t so hard to assume after all. What else could rich siblings be fighting over, who gets to sit in the passenger seat? Who gets to have the last slice of pizza? That's so fucking humorous. He was fighting with his brother over millions and a couple more millions, and didn’t even realize how materialistic and stupid that sounded to someone like you. 

Heeseung pulled your body closer to his, feeling an otherworldly connection course through his veins as you gave away your warmth to him. And how much tighter did you need to be pressed against each other before he finally admitted that he wasn't doing this for warmth. 

How many times did his thumb have to press against the edge of your mouth for him to realize he's gone too far?

“Did you hear that Sunghoon broke up with Wonyoung?” he asked, his body melting into yours with every passing second. 

You looked at him with wide eyes, but on another note, you would be lying if you said you didn't expect it. And it most definitely didn't shock you that Sunghoon was the one to initiate it. 

“Why?” you asked, even though it wasn't a hard deduction to make yourself.

“I think me and you both know why” he huffed, a hint of humor lacing his tone “Honestly good for him, that girl is insufferable” 

“Oh I know” you agreed, and he smiled “Go easy on him, still” 

“I'll try my best” he rolled his eyes playfully “We should definitely throw him a celebration party” Heeseung inquired and you chuckled. 

“Is that really something he’s celebrating, or just us?” you asked and he smiled. 

Sunghoon was so incredibly hard to read, and knowing if the breakup is impacting him negatively or positively was something nobody would ever know. 

“It’ll still help him get back up on his feet, if he even needs to” he replied, and you nodded smiling. 

You had no idea about the status between you and Heeseung. Things happened, and things were most definitely still happening, you both knew it, but nothing changed within the label itself. But then again, you took Heeseung as the type that didn't like labeling things. 

Of course you wanted to be his girlfriend. You wanted people to start knowing you by “Lee Heeseungs girlfriend”, not “Broke Transfer” or “Poor Scholar”. 

You relied heavily on Heeseung. He was like your life support in the walls of this school. He helped you make decisions and was there for you whenever you needed him. He felt just like flying too close to the sun, and it was addictive. You knew that very well. 

He truly was the only person you had. And well, you assumed that maybe calling Aeri isn't that good of an idea.

 Well, that’s what Heeseung agrees with anyway. 

__________ 

You were so out of it. 

You had told Eunseok that you’ll be staying the night at a new friend's house, but would he really care if he were to find out you’d actually be getting shit faced at a massive house party in a mansion you didn’t really know the owner of. 

Probably not. 

The music was so loud you could barely register the words Kim Sunoo spoke to you so enthusiastically. You had come here expecting to spend some time with Heeseung, but no matter how much you wanted to go look for him, the never ending white hallways that led to countless guest bedrooms frightened you. 

From your comfortable position on the couch, you could spot Sunghoon’s lonely figure at one of the tables. He was supposed to be the main attraction, the whole event centered around his new found freedom, but it seemed like everyone around him was having much more fun than him. 

You quickly waved off Sunoo, unsure of what he truly was going on about for the past 10 minutes, heading towards Sunghoon. 

“Are you okay?” You asked without having to shout in the boy's face, finding the corner he sat in much quieter. 

He looked startled, he didn't catch the moment where you came to him “I’m fine” Sunghoon replied swiftly, blinking a few times. 

You found it cute. 

“Why are you alone? Where is everyone” you asked him another question and for the first time you saw him smile so sweetly. 

He always had the same emotionless expression on his face, conversations with him felt like a punishment. Seeing him like this made your knees weak, a slight pain in your heart as you wondered what he was thinking about. 

“I hoped you’d tell me that” he said, his small smile never fading. 

You chuckled “I thought all this was supposed to be for you” 

He shook his head with a laugh “I never wanted any of this. They just used my situation as an excuse to get black out drunk, I guess” 

Even though it was sad, he never stopped smiling at you. His head rested on his knuckles, his eyes twinkling as his gaze was focused on you. 

“That’s rude” you inquired, and he laughed again, but this time it much more resembled a scoff. 

“Heeseung has done and is doing things much worse” he murmured, and even though the music was still very much blasting through the speakers, you heard him.  

You thought about it before questioning him again. Did you even want to know? Or are some things better left unspoken. 

“Like?” you finally said, and that’s when Sunghoon went quiet. 

With a thud he slammed his glass on the table, and stood up. He nodded his head towards one of the rooms at the end of the hallway signaling for you to follow him. He extended one of his hands towards you, and with the smallest bit of hesitation you took it, allowing him to lead you towards the space. 

Park Sunghoon looked so beautiful that night. His ivory skin glowed under the bright, colorful lights, his gaze was so piercing, and his lips just begged to be kissed. The pair of glasses hanging off his nose complemented his white fitted dress shirt, and his black pants showed off his perfectly long legs. You saw a different side of him and didn’t exactly like the way it made you feel. 

He closed the door behind you after assuring that the two of you would be alone. He didn’t know why he was doing this, why he was betraying one of his closest friends. 

But he thought about it all the time. He couldn’t get peace of mind. He couldn’t let his heart hurt for you, watching you fall for a fraudulent man that didn’t deserve someone as loyal and caring as you. 

“What is going on Sunghoon?” you asked, standing above him, as he placed himself on the leather couch with a sigh. 

“I know you like him, I know you believe everything he says and I know you won’t like what I’m about to say” he started explaining, and the suspense was killing you “But he’s not the guy you think he is. You’re not the first one, Y/n” 

“What the fuck do you mean I’m not the first one Sunghoon. First, what?” 

He was trying to stay calm, but you were already getting annoyed and he hasn’t even dropped the real bomb on you. 

Sunghoon thought about it for a second. Was using Pham Hanni a good example or should he reach deeper inside his mind to find another person Heeseung has used to fulfill his own perverted and psychotic desires. 

“I mean you’re not the first girl he has used this way” he uttered without looking at you, too scared to see your expression. 

Were you scared? Or were you mad? Hurt or in disbelief? 

You didn’t respond, letting the silence devour the two of you for a moment. 

“Please say something, Y/n” he whispered, grabbing your hand. 

His hands were cold, his fingers long and ivory. His touch was so smooth, and welcoming. He managed to pull you down next to him, yet you still couldn’t slip a word out of your mouth. He wondered if you’d ever reply or if you would just sit there, forever, next to him in silence. 

He’d like that. He’d like that more than he should. He was already betraying his friend, but his heart still wanted more. He wanted you to be more. 

“Why are you telling me about this, Sunghoon?” you finally said, and he looked at you, his gaze softening. 

“Because I like you” he said, his gaze falling to your intertwined hands “And I can’t stand looking at you getting lied to like this” he added after a short moment. 

It didn’t hit you when he said it. It felt like a moment that passed by quickly, it felt like it wasn’t anything significant. But looking at him, feeling the coldness radiate off of him, and feeling his scent made you realize he actually said it. 

“Don’t say that, Hoon” when the usage of his nickname slipped off your tongue, and he knew you didn’t mean it. 

He knew you felt it too, you just couldn’t say it, right? There was this invisible string tying you tightly to Heeseung’s grip, holding you back from giving into him. You wanted to. You’ve always wanted to, and so did he. From the moment he saw you, standing there with Wonyoung on your first day. 

Neither of you moved, caught in each other's closeness, both aware of it, both unsure. 

Sunghoon’s slender fingers grazed your jaw, softly pulling you to face him. His lips were slightly parted, and you could feel his breath, laced with alcohol and cigarettes. His gaze was heavy on yours and you could feel your heart racing in your throat- but you couldn’t pull away. 

He traced the curve of your jaw, his hand slipping down to your throat. His grip was firm, his lips grazing over the edge of yours. 

‘Tell me to stop” he whispered, smiling when he only heard a faint breath slip from your mouth. “Tell me and I will” he smiled against your cheek. 

“I want you so bad” he murmured, his voice low “You don’t even know” His nose was pressing against your cheek, his breath hot on your skin. You could feel him all over you. 

All at once, the restraint you had, faded away. His back fell to the soft padding of the couch, your legs straddling his lap, keeping him still and open for you. A slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips, eyes dark and hooded. 

His hands slipped down to your lower back, pulling you in closer, skin to skin. You felt dizzy, his mouth eating at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. He grabbed your waist tightly, moving you back and forth on his growing bulge. 

His hands moved up to your jaw as you rode his clothed crotch without his assistance. 

You felt shivers down your spine, an uncontrollable force pushing you for more. You wanted him whole, completely forgetting about the boy that was somewhere in this house, laughing with his friends. 

But you didn’t want him to stop, finally closing the last breath of distance between you and Sunghoon, pressing your lips to his. 

The kiss was sloppy, he met you with even more eagerness, your hand moving down to his chest, feeling his carved muscles against your fingertips. His tongue pried your mouth for entrance, deeping the connection between you. He held you as if he had been waiting forever for this moment, holding your body firm against his own. 

You pulled away, your faces inches apart, your forehead resting against his. Your lips coated in his saliva, trying to catch your breath, he looked at you with so much passion and longing. 

The regret started to settle in, but you couldn’t move away, even when his fingers caressed your cheek, you leaned into it. 

“You should be with me,” he whispered, a hint of desperation coating his voice “We’d be so good together, I’d make you feel so good” he added, his hand slipping past the band of your small skirt. 

“Sunghoon” you breathed out, your face falling to the crook of his neck as he played with the material of your underwear. 

“You were made for me to love, let me please” he pleaded, his breath shaky. 

You could feel his soft touch caressing your skin, his erection firmly against your clothed heat, it all felt like a dream. If you looked at him, it would all become real again. 

“We shouldn't” you said, your words muffled by the silky material of his dress shirt. 

He heard you, he didn't want you to stop, he was so desperate to have you, he wanted to show you just how much better he was than Heeseung. 

“It’s not wrong when he doesn't know” he took your jaw into his fingers, forcing you to look at him. You looked so pretty and innocent, your lipstick slightly smeared around your lips. 

Sunghoon pressed his hungry lips against yours once again, and you complied with his movements. The kiss was messy, sloppy, and at that point, he lost any control that was left in his body. 

Dazed, he didn't even hear the door jerk open. Neither did you, focused on his lips that have moved down to your neck once again. 

“What the fuck is this?” a familiar male voice shouted angrily, causing you to pull out of Sunghoon’s touch, scared to look at the man standing in the doorway. You knew it was him. 

“Heeseung” Sunghoon murmured, his eyes wide as the realization started to settle in. He stood up from the couch, walking towards the boy who looked like a ticking time bomb. 

You sighed, hands in your hair, no words left to be spoken. You felt nothing, Sunghoon’s touch still lingering on your skin, and Heeseung’s words in the air. 

“Calm down, Heeseung” Sunghoon said softly, still unsure of the situation that surrounded him. 

Instead of that, he got hit with a punch to his face, harshly stumbling backwards, his back pressing against the glass table. He touched his cheek, the sensation causing him to flinch. He could feel the taste of blood in his mouth. 

“I’m sorry” he said, looking down, spitting into the glass cup that someone left on the table. 

Heeseung smiled seeing his friend's reddish saliva slide down the walls of the glass. 

You stayed quiet, hoping the same fate wasn't waiting for you. You wanted to disappear, already creating the monologue you’d spill out to Eunseok as soon as you came home. ‘Please, I need to go back to my old school’ you’d plead until he’d finally give in. 

“I’m sure you are, Hoonie” he chuckled, slapping his forearm, taking the cup from his hand “I’m sure you regret it, don’t you” he looked intently at his friend who was struggling to keep eye contact. 

Heeseung slammed the cup on the floor, the glass shattering across the wooden panels, causing both you and Sunghoon to flinch. 

Sunghoon nodded his head, trying to stand up straight, but failing miserably as Heeseung kicked his lower abdomen with his knee. 

“You think it’s okay to mess with your friends girl behind his back?” he asked, holding Sunghoon’s bleeding jaw in his fingers “Is it?” 

“No” Sunghoon spat out, looking at Heeseung with his watery eyes, the pain in his stomach unbearable. 

“Heeseung, please stop, just stop it” you pleaded, looking up at him from teary eyes, unable to watch anymore “I came onto him, it’s all my fault” you lied, trying to somehow fix what was already broken. 

“Is that true” his gaze shifted back and forth from you to Sunghoon, waiting for one of you to give him a straight answer. 

You nodded ferociously, while Sunghoon kept his gaze plastered on the floor. 

“Get out” he turned to his vunerable friend, his lips dripping in blood, his hand holding onto his stomach. 

The view didn't move him one bit. 

Sunghoon looked at him and then at you, stumbling on his way to the door, slamming it shut when he finally managed to exit. 

“You came onto him, yeah? Did you like it?” he chuckled, a devilish grin on his face as he looked at you, so fragile and afraid of him. 

“I’m sorry Hee, I wasn't thinking straight” you explained, mentally preparing for him to strike you at any given moment now. 

You should be the one asking for an apology, he should be the one saying sorry for using you. 

“Get up” he ordered, extending his hand to you. You looked at him sheepishly, his dark figure standing over you. 

You obeyed, taking his cold hand, frightened a little bit by his intimidating and unpredictable behavior. He led you to the bathroom that was placed just across from the couch you were making out with Sunghoon on, stopping in front of the sink. 

He looked at you through the mirror, his lips falling to your ear “Spit” 

“What?” you asked, your voice cracking. 

“You heard me the first time” he said sternly, his gaze never falling from your eyes. 

“W-why?” you mumbled, and his small smile dropped. 

His fingers squeezed your waist painfully, his other hand shoving your face down towards the sink “When I tell you to do something, you do it” he groaned, and with your eyes shut, you completed his order. 

“Wash your mouth” he ordered after a moment, his body pressing against your ass as he held your head in place “Wash all that’s left of him” 

You just listened to every word he said. He let go of your hair, letting you look at yourself again. Heeseung smiled, his hands wandering from your waist to the band of your skirt. 

“Did you like it when Sunghoon touched you here? Did you feel taken care of? Tell me, pretty girl” his hand slipped down lower, his fingers easily slipping past your panties, hovering over your core. 

“I asked you a question” he said more sternly, as you refused to reply to him, your brain fixated on the feeling of his fingers on you. 

“I liked it,” you replied truthfully, and he smiled. 

“You like when my friends take care of you, don’t you? You’d let Jay fuck you, you’d blow Jake if he asked, wouldn't you?” he asked, and you winced at his words, the sound mixing with the way his fingers played with you. 

“But you’d come back to me. You’d come back all swollen from their house to me. Cause you love me” he said, and you nodded, your hips riding his hand that was buried deep in your underwear. 

“Want me to fuck you now? Show you who you actually belong to?” he whispered in your ear sweetly, his fingers still teasing your entrance. 

“Yes” you managed to utter. Your heart was pounding so hard, a part of you craving Heeseung’s touch, while another one trembled with fear. 

He turned you around, you could finally face him. His eyes were dark, his anger mingling in the air. His lips were wet with desire. 

“Playing with my best friend, making me watch, you loved it, didn't you baby?” he laughed, his hand escaping your skirt, finding its way to your hips. He pressed himself against you, his hands wandering under your top. 

“You’ll get what you want, don’t worry” he smiled, his fingers caressing your lips “That pussy wouldn't give it to you anyway” he laughed, catching you in a sloppy kiss. 

“Get on your knees, baby” he said, his tone soft, a caring facade covering his internal rage. 

You nodded, softly, sliding down to your knees in front of him. The dimly lit space made him look so beautiful, his harsh words leaving with Sunghoon a while ago. 

“You can take it right?” he asked, unbuckling his belt, the material of his black dress pants brushing against your skin as he slid them down. 

You felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation as he teased you, palming himself through his boxers. You could see his pulsing erection, the way his face twisted as he continued stimulating himself. 

“You wanna see, huh? Dirty girl, you love every second of this” he laughed, his voice laced with innuendo. 

Finally, with one hand he slid down his underwear, freeing his thick, hard cock. It slapped against his sculpted torso, and he smiled seeing your face light up. 

“You like what you see, yeah? So fucking hard just for you” he asked with amusement, grabbing your jaw. 

You nodded, finally being able to see him whole, raw in front of you. 

He was now completely exposed before you, fully vulnerable and at your mercy.

“Good. Feel how hard I am for you. Touch me” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. 

You reached out tentatively, unsure of your actions, your cold fingers wrapping around his rigid shaft, coating its surface with his arousal as you slowly stroked him. He was hot and pulsing with his heartbeat. 

He groaned “Yeah, like that” his eyes closed with pleasure instinctively “Now put it in your pretty mouth” he ordered after a moment. 

You leaned forward, as he pulled your hair aside, twirling it in his palm. Your breath tickled his tip, his teeth gritting as he watched you open your mouth for him, and wrap your sweet lips around the head of his cock. 

He groaned, your warm mouth hugging him reluctantly. You could taste his bittersweet pre-cum on your toungue, the sensation of his hardness making shivers go down your spine. Your head began to move deeper down his length, finding it difficult to fit all of him inside you. 

“Fuck, s’good, suck me nice and slow just like that” he moaned, slightly pushing your head down his cock. He could see the tears forming in your eyes, and it made him twitch in your mouth. 

You did as he instructed, taking your time with him, finding the spots that made him react the most, teasing his sensitive underside. Hollowing your cheeks, going faster, Heeseung’s grip on you only tightening with every movement. 

You looked so helpless and lost, your mouth full of him. He fought to keep quiet, his other hand gripping the counter, his chest heaving unevenly. Your head bobbed up and down, sending jolts of pleasure through his body. 

“Fuck, keep going, I’m close” he whined, his lips parted as he guided you back and forth on his length. 

His cock twitched, your movements becoming sloppier as you awaited his climax. You could feel him deep down in your throat, the feeling accompanied by his intense breathing and hoarse moans. His hand gripped your hair tightly, he began to thrust gently, fucking your mouth with slow, deliberate strokes.  

“I’m gonna cum, fuck” his voice was strained, his heart racing in his chest “Gonna cum in your mouth, take my load baby” 

He groaned, his warm, thick cum spilling all over your tongue, Heeseung’s body shuddering as he emptied his load down your throat.  

“Swallow it,” he said, his breath shaky as he rode out his high. 

He pulled out after a moment, his cock glistening with your saliva and his juices. 

“You’re so perfect” he breathed out, still trying to steady himself “Get up, sweet girl” he instructed, and with an ache to your knees you managed to get up. 

His lips hurried to connect with yours, tasting himself on your tongue. Your lips were so soft and wet, your eyes watery. He wiped a salty tear that slipped from your eye. The look on your face took him back to the day he first met you, so pretty and untouched. 

“Let me make you feel good now” he whispered, guiding you to the bed, his pants and boxers left abandoned in the bathroom, as he got rid of his shirt while locking the door. 

He remembers just how much he fantasized about fucking you behind an unlocked door, hoping one of his sickly perverted friends walked in. But he no longer wanted to share you. 

He yearned for you, needed you just like the flesh that wanted to knit itself back together after a fresh wound. His desire was so primal, so intuitive. He was peeling his skin back, the layers slowly unfolding before your eyes. 

“Undress for me” he waited, his eyes tracing your every move, his body shivering as he watched you. 

If you were ready, he wanted to make you shiver like that too. 

You pulled down your black skirt, squeezing your thighs together as you were left only in your underwear. He came towards you, helping with your top half. He puts your hands up, the material gliding against your shaky skin. The fabric falls to the floor with a small thud, leaving you bare for him to adore. 

He stood back, admiring the beauty of the girl in front of him. He regretted every spoken word at that moment, every curse, every joke and everything that led up to this moment. 

Those words stained his mouth like a pomegranate, the lingering sensation still on his tongue as he took you in. 

Heeseung’s lips crashed down on yours, his shivering hands roaming down to your enclosed thighs, spreading you open enough for his fingers to slide through. He explored you with rough urgency, his mind blank as he focused on you and only you. 

He moved you down to sit on his lap, his hard on pressing against your ass. He trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest. Desperation sat heavily on his tongue. 

“You’re so pretty, all mine, all this is for me” he mumbled into your skin, his fingers digging at your hips. Your teeth grit, hands pulling his dark hair. 

Heeseung was so hungry for you. Hungry for your lips, your flesh, your bones that he wanted to intertwine with his. He was so drunk on love. 

His hand slipped down your body, his thumb circling small circles on your clothed heat. He felt the wetness seep through. 

He lifted you up, lying you down on the mattress swiftly. He situated himself in between your legs, his eyes scanning your body. You were such a pretty girl, so obedient and welcoming to him. You didn't protest, just did what he asked you to.

“Heeseung, please..” you whispered, and he could feel his heartbeat speed up “I want you inside me” he was amused by your eagerness, the way you were so direct with your words. 

“Sweet girl” he murmured, his fingers hooking the band of your pretty pink underwear “So fucking ready for me” 

He looked at you one last time, his fingers pulling at your panties, and with a nod to your head, he rolled the fabric down your legs, throwing it next to his abandoned shirt. 

“Already this wet?” he raised an eyebrow questioningly “I barely even touched you” a smirk adorned his lips.

He could come just by looking at you, your greed only fueling his own desire to fuck the shit out of you. But he'd hurt you, wouldn't he? 

Heeseung’s heart was racing just from the sight of you, his body reacting instantly to the view in front of him. His breath came out in ragged gasps, his pretty blue veins popping out from under his skin. 

He aligned himself with you, coating his length with your arousal. His throbbing cock glided in between your folds, your body trembling at the new feeling, as heavy breaths slipped from your mouth. His tip nudged against your entrance, your heart racing. You had never felt anyone this closely, and nothing made you more excited than it being Heeseung after all. 

“I won’t hurt you, yeah?” he laughed, his tone low “You think you can take it?” he teased, his tip slipping in and out, each time going just a little further. 

“Mhm” you nodded your head, looking at him with your mouth slightly parted. 

He leaned down to squeeze your cheeks “Yeah? And you won't cry?” you attempted to nod again, but his grip on you was firm. You just blinked eagerly, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

His tone was inciting, it could almost seem as if he was making fun of you. Yet no other man had ever made you feel so wanted, so good. No man has ever touched you like Heeseung did. 

He pressed you down underneath him, holding onto your lower back, his lips wandering all over your damp skin, His touch was rushed, he wanted this just as much as you. 

“Ready?” he asked, stroking himself, his gaze glued to you. You breathed out a short conformation, grabbing into his arm that flexed under your touch. 

Heeseung nodded, his eyes dark with desire and need. His hands were shaking, his body trembling with the effort of restraint. 

He grabbed onto your leg, and with a slow movement, buried himself deep inside you. You gasped, pleading for your body to adjust to the sudden invasion. Heeseung’s cock filled you completely, stretching you out in a way you’d never experienced before. He didn't move, waiting for the look of discomfort to wipe off your face. 

You had wanted this. You waited impatiently for Heeseung to take away the one sacred thing you owned- your virginity. You wanted him to be the man that gets to have you first, the love and thirst for him overpowering any rational thoughts. 

“Fucking tight” he breathed out, as his head fell back, a low, gutteral moan escaping his lips as he continued to move, his body conusmed by the sheer pleasure. 

It didn't take him a long time to bottom out, groans falling from his slightly parted lips. The pain of his thickness was almost exciting, your nails digging at his skin, eyelids becoming heavy. His cock buldged in your stomach, making him moan out loud with no sense of embarrassment. 

Your walls gripped onto his length “Feels s'good, shit” his thrusts were slow and delicate, not wanting to break your fragile frame “See this, so fucking deep inside you” he took your hand and pressed it down on your stomach so you could feel him. 

“Does it feel nice?” he kissed your neck, his face hugging the side of yours as he picked up his pace.

You turned to look at him “It d-does” you whispered. 

He rammed into you, his strokes becoming more frequent and sloppy. His face twisted with pleasure, a stream of euphonious sounds slipped from your lips, powering his own arousal. The music slightly entered the room through the shut door, the sound of skin slapping and heavy breaths overpowering it.

“That’s it, baby” his hands gripped your hips as you moved with him in sync, his body almost automatically responding to any of your movements. Your breathing became increasingly uneven and ragged “Just like that, just like that” 

“Fuck, Heeseung” you struggled for breath, his pace becoming infernal. 

His eyes ran down your body like never before, his face looking down at you intently, almost like a wolf looking down on its prey. His fingers continued to grab onto anything he managed, his mind going blank as the sound of your cries filled his ears. 

The sight and sensation drived you further into ecstasy, his warmth so strong on your skin. You couldn't help the pleasure, a small, salty tear escaping your glossy eyes. 

He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a desperate, rough kiss, his body shaking with need. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. His thumb wiped down the tear from your cheek, his eyes hooded as he stared down at you, analyzing the state he had put you in. 

“You’re so perfect, so perfect for me” he whispered, his body on fire, every fiber of his being consumed by the overwhelming ecstasy of being inside you, of feeling you beneath him. 

Your moans become guttural, body shuddering with overwhelming pleasure at his words, at the thought of having him like this all the time. 

“I’m so in love with you, fuck” he breathed out, his heart pounding in his chest. 

He knew he was in too deep, knew that he couldn't stop this even if he wanted to, not when he felt like this, burried so fucking deep inside you. 

“I’m close” you managed to articulate, your voice strained. 

Heeseung nods, his body feeling like he’s on the edge, too. He speeds up his movements, his cock pounding into your tired core at an almost demonic pace. His own senses are overwhelmed by you, his mind and body consumed with desire and pleasure. 

He gasps, his mouth moving down to your chest “I’m close too. Just a little more, you can do it. Just a little more” his voice a low, raspy whisper. 

You grip his hand tightly, a low moan escaping your lips as Heeseung pushes himself closer to the edge. You were hanging on by a thread, desperate for release, desperate for him. 

“I can’t hold back” he groaned, his thighs shaking, control slipping him completely “I’m going to fill you up so deep with my cum, baby. Don’t move” 

Heeseung took your heart, his mouth stained red. He kisses you with that mouth, he’s all over you again. He can no longer control himself, each movement throwing him over the edge, his own bravery breaking as you look so much sweeter and smaller under him. 

With one last thrust, his body shuddered as he shot his load of cum inside your pulsating walls. His body collapsed on top of you, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath. He continued to move inside you, his fingers holding onto your body, helping you chase your own high. 

You close your eyes, releasing your own arousal on his length. Your body shivers and arches beneath him. He groans against your neck, gripping your hip tighter, his own body trembling with pleasure and exertion. 

He buries his face into your neck, his breathing slowly starting to even out after a few moments. He can feel your breathing start to even out under him as you came down from your own climax. He held you close, letting the waves of otherworldly pleasure wash over the both of you.

“You were so good” he whispers, his voice still laced with a hint of breathlessness “I love you, so much. I love you so much it hurts” 

He couldn’t help it. Those three words have never fallen from his lips, and this time he couldn't blame it on the slip of his tongue. Every bone in his body, his flesh, his tissue, the sinews that bound him together, it flowed in his veins- the uncontrollable desire to love you. 

His words struck you to the core. It felt so real, Sunghoon’s confession long gone as you couldn't help but reciprocate his words. With the way he cared for you, it couldn't be true. Heeseung wouldn't use you, he loved you, and you loved him. 

 You look down at him, and this time he looks much less scary. His eyes aren't so dark and hooded, his hair is messy, and his lips are puffed out.

It’s been so long since you first saw him, your mind completely swapping the first impression he made on you, to something much sweeter and beautiful. You remembered him so well, he was your precious, doe-eyed baby deer. He was never wrong, he was never the bad guy. 

The world turned on him, he was innocent. He didn't have a drinking problem, he wasn't smoking too much, he just gave into his teenage curiosity. 

He continues to lay on top of you, arms wrapping around you, his face buried into your neck. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent, savoring the feeling of you beneath him. 

“I’m sorry, baby” he whispers, his voice laced with a hint of shame and regret. “I’m so sorry” he repeats and you look at him, confused. 

“What? Is everything okay?” you ask, caressing his hair, twirling small pieces in your fingers “You're scaring me” 

He sighs, his heart breaking “Sunghoon was right. I told him to do it. I told him to tell you the truth” 

taglist: @deobitifull @yunhoswrldddd @parksunghoonsgf @itgirlalisaa @alienqbrain @cyjhhyj @missycheif1404

[hellisharchive]

Hiii!!! I was wondering if you can do headcanons of what kinky/perv stuff that hazbin men (alastor, Lucifer, husk, Adam, val, etc) often do?

Plus I love your Adam fics!/headcanons

Have good day :3

﹒﹒﹒perversions of the soul

➤ [Separate] Lucifer, Adam, Val, Vox, and Saint Peter [Yall know I couldn't NOT include him, right?]

�� 18+, sexual scenarios, sexual comments

➤ Hi, thank you for requesting! Because I don't write for Husk or Alastor won't include them, but I'll include the others! It's purely because I don't know how to write them in this way! I hope that's ok! :D

﹒﹒lucifer

He is a thighs man, he will stare at your thighs for hours if you let him. You've caught him so many times looking at your thighs and every time you lightly slap him on the shoulder because you know all he's thinking about is shoving his face in between them.

He loves to whisper dirty nothings into your ear to make you flustered in public, he lives for your reactions and red face as you try to remain calm. Just seeing your reactions and you slowly growing horny is enough to make him hard alone.

While that man can fuck good- he revels in giving oral sex to you whenever he can. He loves eating you out and sucking on you until you're cumming over and over again. He thinks you taste absolutely delicious and can't get enough of you. He's cum-drunk in all sense of the word.

﹒﹒﹒adam

This man isn't as kinky as you would originally think- but still explores sexually occasionally. However, if you got boobs, he will never get enough of them, and will motorboat them even if Lute is around. If you got a dick, best be ready for random crotch feel-ups at any given moment. If you don't have either/or- he will grab and pinch your ass and even smack it until its red.

He is big into you moaning, really big into it. It gets him off so easily, one little moan and he's at full mast. His main goal in bed is making you moan as loud as possible and when you do- well, expect to be getting a creampie.

Loves fangirls/fanguys and if you love him in his band before even personally knowing him, one stop to being given a...private show. He lives to see you get excited for his band and looking down at you from his stage, gives him the biggest serotonin rush (and another kind of rush) that slowly builds up over the course of the night as he gets sweaty and out of breath.

﹒﹒﹒valentino

Let's be real- what kinks doesn't this man have? There's many to chose from, but if I had to pick one- you being weak and powerless under him is one of his favorites. Watching you be completely at his disposal for any reason is a big yes to him.

Degredation is another one, oh boy, he loves making you feel like shit at any chance possible. He will tell you that you're a whore, a dirty slut, only good for being fucked by him and him alone.

He is possesive to the upmost degree and always makes sure to leave his marks all over you so others know that you are his. He always makes sure to parade you around the tower with you by his side so everyone knows not to fuck with you- messing with you or trying to fuck you.

Semi-public sex is his go-to when he needs a quickie, he loves fucking you in spaces where anyone can walk in and see you two going at it. He doesn't care who sees his body, he thinks it's hot as fuck and makes him even harder inside you if he hears someone walking by.

﹒﹒﹒vox

Just like Val- he is extremely possessive of what's his and makes it known. He doesn't display it publicly with you around as to not scare you off, but he makes sure every single person in the tower knows not to even touch you.

Biggest perv imaginable. Will watch you fuck yourself silly with toys even if he's just a room away. He never stops watching you, and I mean never. He always has to keep a close eye on you to make sure you don't fuck anyone else like Val or some ramdon schmuck off the street.

He loves getting his dick sucked above everything else, he loves the feeling of your pretty little lips wrapped around his cock swallowing all his cum down your throat. He loves to see you cry as you try to fit it all down, enjoys wiping them away and telling you that you're doing a good job.

﹒﹒﹒saint peter

That man is as innocent as can be what kinks could be possibly have? Well, he has a dirty little secret- one day he discovered that he got hard seeing you with ice cream all over your mouth and imagined it was cum. Naughty I know! Ever since he has not been able to let that thought go and guiltily imagines you sucking on his...

He always offers you ice cream just to watch you smother it all over your mouth as you eat it and he always acts nervous around you because he oh so badly wants to make his dirty fantasies real. But he can't just avoid you! You always ask why he likes ice cream so much and he simply says that it just tastes good.

He also would never admit that just you showing attention to him can get him riled up since almost every person that had crossed the gate never payed much attention to him. So when you showed interest in getting to know him and eventually dating him- he was down bad and it makes him act up a little.

[gloxk]

Sneaky linkin’

(Eren Y. Armin A. Connie S.)

A/N: i’m not COMPLETELY back, but I am making a slight improvement w my mental health… so here’s sum slight for yall🤷🏽‍♀️. I kinda hate this but maybe yall will like it..ion know. Luv ya tho. 17+.

Synopsis: Aot men as sneaky links.

Warning: Smut.. F/M

━━━━━━━⚠︎━━━━━━━

Eren! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ———Back seat bandit

Eren..is definitely a back seat bandit. It’s mainly because he has a nice car, why not show it off?

Now, all i’m going to say is (Persian rugs- jacquees version.) Oh lawwwd, he definitely plays that while giving the most sloppiest, nastiest, messiest, back arching back shots ever. This man does NOT play.

Hair puller, choker, dirty talker. He’s the type to make you tell him how good he’s fucking you. “Uh-huh, right there? You like that baby?” And you better tell him too.

The hair pulling thing just comes by instinct. You could be giving this man the sloppiest head ever, deep throating him till hes hitting the back of your esophagus and all. The type of head that makes him feel like he’s shifting reality. He will tug your hair to get a real good look at your face, saliva dripping down your chin and red coating your face. A face that just screams ‘ Am I making you happy?’. He would stare at you with a shit eating grin just while the camera flash hits your face.

Degrading as fuck. He would just say some shit to boost his ego during sex. “I know you like that shit, stop acting like you don’t.” & “You can scream my name louder than that. Try again.” & “Stop fuckin running.” Don’t be fooled now, he’s also going to talk you through it and give you reassurance. “You doin so good f’me.” & “it’s all yours mami.” & “You look so pretty right now.”

Ugh this man just loves to have his hand wrapped around your body. Around your waist, neck, thighs, hands—it don’t matter to him. He loves touching on you. Any time yall link his hands just find their way over your body.

Connie! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ——— Any time any where

Connie..is the type of guy who can fuck ANYWHERE. Car, room, closet, random family bathroom at a gas station—he don’t care.

If you’re down, he’s down. Y’all could be out shopping and he fucks you in the dressing room.

This man LOVES when you ride him. He would just watch you in awe while you bounce up and down on him.

Definitely a talker during sex, he loves telling you how good you’re doing. “Mhm—fuck—I love when you do that.” & “Cmoonn look at me while you do it.” & “Arch that back mama.”

Now, he’s a recorder. He records everything. He has a little folder in his phone dedicated to your link ups.

Although he’s gonna dick you down anywhere he can, his favorite place is the shower. Got some music playing in the background (P power - gunna) while he’s plowing into you. The shower couldn’t even cover up your loud moans.

Pull out ? Nah, “You wanna be grown, let’s be grown baby.” He doesn’t believe in wasting, so either you sucking it up or taking that shit.

Armin! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ——— munch

Armin..is an eater. He’s gonna eat like it’s his last meal every fucking time. His tongue game is vicious. Absolutely diabolical, the messiest head you will ever get.

Salvia dripping on the couch, tears falling from your eyes due to overstimulation, legs locking around his head—he still wouldn’t stop. He won’t stop till you force him to.

Hold on now, Armin ain’t just an eater, he got good dick too. He’s a saint that’s gonna fuck you like a sinner. Let him get some liquor in his system and you’re going to be begging for round 2.

Speaking of drunk Armin, he’s gonna fuck you against a wall. Just something that’s going to happen one way or the other. One leg in the air while the other dangles just above the floor, his hands gripping on your ass so hard it leaves a mark.

Oh it doesn’t stop there either, he’s going to stumble his way to the bed and take you there too.

Hella vocal whimpering, moaning, whispering. He’s going to let you know your pussy good. “God-you feel so fuckin good.” & “Please keep doing that.”

Loves teaching you new things, different kinks, positions, anything of the sort. I know he just loves exploring and experimenting things with you. He’s a freaky freak for sure. <3

━━━━━━━⚠︎━━━━━━━

whore…

[kombuuuu]

Miles 42 headcanons?

no one asked but i’ll deliver !!

Miles!42 x Fem!Reader random headcanons

also a lot of snippets :)

You/Reader: Blue

Miles Morales: Purple

Mama Rio/Rio Morales: Pink

Uncle Aaron/Aaron Morales: Orange

Random/stranger: Black

—

gift giving love language duhhh

Will have you walk with him through malls and whatever you look at for a second too long he buys

You don’t catch on until you’re both eating at a nice restaurant, absentmindedly staring at some plant when a lull in conversation happens.

He purchases the plant.

“Fuck you mean I can’t buy it?”

“Sir, the plants aren’t for sale, this is a dining establishment.”

“Establish the fact I’m gettin’ that plant.”

“Sir—“

50 bucks down and a plant 🆙

He will damn right die if you refuse him. He’ll get all grumpy and pouty when you say he should save for a house, not for you.

convinced you just get shy when bought things (you do).

is even more motivated to buy things

“Miles, baby, you need to save up. Not spend on me!”

“This would look so good on you, Ma.”

“Are you listening??”

“Fuck, and this.”

“Oh my god.”

gets so jealous it’s unbelievable

but only when someone goes too far with you

it’s like 1–100 real quick

he’s not usually the prowling type (ha)

but when someone pushes the line he loses his shit

other than that he’s a supportive bbg all the way

“Wanna go home with me, butterface?”

“Fuck you just say?”

“Nothing homie just get outta here.”

“Say that shit again ‘homie’.”

“Chill the fuck out. Let the lady speak for herself.”

“I’ll fucking speak for my girl all I want, homeboy.”

maybe got a liiiiittle bit of an anger issue

guy went home with a broken nose and a missing tooth

better hope he can afford fill ins

he would never get mad at you though

he gets frustrated you don’t listen sometimes, but it’s never to the point of anger

feel like he has the patience of a fucking SAINT

calm and collected baby u know the deal

“Mami, we gonna have a problem?”

“”

“Didn’t think so.”

a SWEETHEART at times

stand by him being raised right

mama rio taught him to be a romantic

wanted him to take after his dad

so flowers and gifts and chocolates

followed by lovin of any kind

probably a baby for affection but doesn’t show it

so when you get all emotional about being gifted roses for the first time

and hug him and smother him

give him stupid little kisses all over

he’s fainting

poor boy doesn’t know love like u show him

“Baby, are these for me?”

“Yeah, Chiquita. They okay?”

“Wh… They’re perfect.”

“Are you cryin’? I can return ‘em.”

“No! No, no, don’t do that.

I love them, C’mere.”

when you guys get rlly comfortable, like a year and some dating, he ends up getting more chatty

willingly talking w you for hours

feels like you’re the only person he can rlly do that with

rambles so rarely that you kind of just sit in awe when it happens

doesn’t catch himself until he’s trying to name your future kids

“I’ll marry you one day, we’ll have like two, three kids. Get all nice an cozy.

You want a boy or girl? I kinda want both. Definitely not girl first, never having a girl without a brother to protect ‘er.

You’d be such a good Mami.

What’d you wan’ name ‘em? I have a few ideas—“

“..”

“But you could choose the girl cause I don’t know any pretty names. And i’ll choose—“

“..”

“..”

“You gon’ let me keep goin?”

“I love your voice.”

“Tranquila, mami.”

Takes you to every family event he ever has

sits you regularly with Rio and Aaron

they insist you call them uncle and ma

you do, obviously

miles doesn’t need to meet your family if you don’t want him to, but if he ever does he’s totally suave with them

like weirdly smooth

able to get on ur carers good side quick

when you meet his extended family they’re just as loving

his whole family is this bright dash of colour

and you fit right the fuck in

“¡Oh, hija estás preciosa!”

“Dice la estrella de la fiesta!”

“You flatter me, Hija.”

“Miles, come get your girl.”

“You look nice too, Uncle Aaron.”

“..Thanks, kid.”

“Hey Mami, havin’ fun?”

“Aight, I’m out.”

when you find out he’s the prowler you’re not really shocked

he’s hella nervous to tell you and kinda puts it off for a while

as long as you’re not in harms way, nothin matters, yeah?

no

the guilt eats him alive

he’s already lost so much, if he doesn’t do things right with you, then loses you too

he’d probably lose himself

so he tells you

“The Prowler?”

“Yeah.”

“The.. Panther guy I keep seeing on the news-?”

“Mm.”

“Miles are you—

..—Are you killing people?”

“Mami, it’s not like that—“

“oh my god.”

“These men— I kill,”

“Oh my god, oh my god.”

“,They’re bad, you understand.”

“Miles..”

“[Name]. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.. Yeah I understand.”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.”

“…”

“Are you mad.”

“I’m not happy.”

“Okay.”

you’re kind of devastated he’s killing people

but you eventually get it

like it takes a while

say a month or so

but you forgive quick

i mean, who knows what those men are doing, right?

(ur delulu but it’s ok)

he lets you have your space but talking with mama rio when she realises your absence knocks some sense into him

mans is going to GROVEL

he will fucking beg on his damn knees

knocks on your door and is already kneeling

will plead with you to come back to him

like i said a whole ass romantic

you know what’s romantic? a man who can get on his knees

he will suffocate you in gifts and affection

oh you like (insert sanrio esc character) ? look over there at that lifesize plushie woahhhh wonder who that’s forrrrrr

“Hello?”

“Mami, don’t close the door.”

“Miles, go home.”

“And please stop kneeling, the floor is dirty.”

“I’m not leaving ‘til you hear me out.”

looooong sigh

“Okay, fine— whatever, come inside. You have two minutes.”

“God, I missed you. You’re so beautiful Chiquita.”

“Three minutes.”

You talk it out easy, he’s a real smooth talker when he wants to be

“Okay Miles, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”

“Yeah, Ma. See you soon.”

“Wh—.. What is that?”

“Ohhh…”

“Why the fuck is it so big?”

“It said “Life Size” on the site? I was thinking like two feet tall.”

“You bought that?”

“Yeah.. I was thinkin’ you wouldn’t let me in. Would have to bribe you.”

“…That’s really cute.”

Annnnnd that’s all i can come up with i’ll probably do more later :P

[kedsandtubesocks]

Mr. Winter

Santa!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: you wrote that letter to Santa as a joke (knowing he obviously wouldn’t answer it) until he does - and he comes with a proposition

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, marriage of convenience, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but is a drinking aged adult & Joel is older), yearning, fluff with light angst, grumpy but sweetheart!Joel, caregiver!Joel with slight sugar daddy!Joel vibes, brief moments of dealing with toxic family, Joel lifts reader once with his Santa strength, spicy thoughts, heavy making out, fingering, glove & finger sucking, use of “good girl,” Joel’s dirty talk & referring to himself as “old man,” one light ass smack, reader wears lingerie, Santa!kink (?), use of gendered language

word count: 9.1k (I’m sorry)

a/n: yeah… hi lol this is heavily influenced and based off “The Santa Clause” films but you don’t need to know those to read - biggest thank you to my favorite enablers & Santa’s cutest helpers @pedgito & @hauntedhowlett ily…also happy holidays, if you’re reading this I can’t thank you enough & hope a little magic comes your way ♡ divider credit to the ever talented @saradika-graphics

You wrote the dumb letter at the end of the semester class party. You’re thankful everyone decided to write papers instead of having a final, a grad school blessing, which meant class was done by the last week of November. Your professor even had set up the cutest Letters to Santa Station, and your friend begged you to write one with her.

So you did.

And you jokingly asked Santa for one thing - to send you a boyfriend.

Of course you know the big guy isn’t real and wouldn’t ever answer. It’s why you didn’t think much of it.

But now, if there’s any hope Santa could be real, you wonder if maybe he could just grant you one small wish…

You’re happy for your best friend, you truly are. Her wedding reception is beautiful, you just need a moment.

It finally hit you that you’re the last of your friend group not married. And as the cozy colder winter days bring in the couples closer during the slow song, you simply take a moment outside to collect yourself.

The once warmed spiked hot chocolate you’ve been enjoying now sits cold, not so festive.

Someone calls to you, says your name in a thick southern molasses smooth accent you don’t recognize.

Turning to the door, you definitely don’t know who this man is because you would have remembered someone this stunning.

Dressed down in some jeans and a sharp looking blazer, there’s almost a cowboy like air to this man. Rugged, older with lovely streaks of wrinkles and shining grey hair, a gorgeous sharp hawk nose, and dark as the deep earth eyes stare at you - he’s flat out gorgeous.

“Got your letter.” He cryptically announces, and confusion clusters in you.

This handsome stranger lifts up the overly festive candy cane colored envelope, the one you picked at the party a few days ago when you wrote your letter to Santa.

Slightly panicked, now you question who this man is.

The mystery man fidgets, painting him younger. He shifts to put his hands on his hips.

“Alright… there ain’t no easy way to put this, so imma just say it.” He starts. “I got many names… Father Christmas, Ol’ Saint Nick. Shit like that.”

Those dark unearthed eyes stare unflinching at you.

“But you can call me Joel.”

“Wait…What are you saying?” Bewilderment and skepticism bubble in your voice.

He sighs, ancient and tired, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Don’t make me say it.” He grumbles.

“Wait are you saying you’re like, fucking Santa Claus or something?” You can’t even believe it.

His large hand moves away from his face, and the man, Joel, stays silent. The somber stillness makes this feel worse.

A disbelief filled laugh escapes you.

“Yeah okay, nice try.” You lift your drink to him, a slight mock cheers, then take a sip. It’s cold as hell and tastes bitter.

“I know it sounds fucking crazy as shit-”

“The Santa I know wouldn't cuss.” You playfully cut him off deciding to now embrace this joke.

His face grows foul, hard with a frown, not so very Kris Kringle like. With deliberate steps he moves slightly closer to you.

“Two years ago… who d’ya think dropped off that snow globe, huh?” His voice dips low, bordering a deadly seriousness, and you inhale sharp.

Two years ago, you and your mom’s favorite snow globe shattered. It felt silly getting so upset over such a strange object, but you couldn’t find a replacement anywhere.

Then after everyone had opened their gifts and family had left, you spotted a lone gift still tucked away hidden under the tree.

It was the snow globe, new and perfectly wrapped. You know you didn’t get it for your mom and the way she teared up, she didn’t get it for you. None of your other family members knew the significance of it.

“It has to be a Christmas miracle,” your mom had said. You didn’t believe it.

Now you stare a bit horrified and in shock at the man who knows about this.

Silence suffocates the air between you and him.

“Make a reindeer show up.” You blurt out.

The man, Joel, snorts dry and amused.

“Don’t need reindeer. S’a myth.” He replies low.

Your eyes narrow suspicious at him now.

“Can you make it snow?”

“M’not Jack Frost.” He scoffs offended.

“Santa always leaves snow from his boots.” You argue back.

“It’s for the dang effect.” Joel argues back.

“Can’t be Santa then.” You shrug.

He makes a disgruntled sigh of a noise. Glaring hard, he waves his hand out to the wind. Suddenly the wind blows strong, a howling gust rushing against you, so blustery you need to cover your face. When the wind stops you realize you’re lightly covered in snow.

You almost drop your not so hot chocolate.

Joel must sense your shock. He takes your drink from your hand, takes a sip and makes a disgusted face.

“Look… came here for a reason. I think we might be able to help each other out.

He’s here with a proposition.

“I… need a wife.” He declares with a deadpan like energy.

Now you almost laugh again.

“What, did Mrs Claus divorce you?” You joke.

“Never been married.” He frowns.

Oh.

“So why now?” Curiosity peeks up in you fast.

“Legal shit.” His words don’t allow for more prying. “I’ll explain it all later. Just needed to find ya to see if we can get this done.”

“Wait, why me?”

He lifts up that damn letter again, waves it around.

“Y’said you wanted a boyfriend.” He almost sounds bored.

“This isn’t the same.” You squak, indignant.

“Look,” he now returns to that deep somber tone.

“I need this. And you’d be… compensation.” His voice shifts slightly awkwardly.

He mentions your loans, all the debt you have, and how he might be able to help out. Your eyes feel like they’re about to pop out their sockets.

Commotion finally arrives at the door leading back inside.

Joel takes a sip of your drink, then hands it back to you.

“Think it over.” He says low.

The door slides open, and your other friend flings her head out.

“Hey come on! They’re cutting the cake!” She brightly exclaims, but her face scrunches up confused.

“Wait, who were you talking to?” She asks.

Your eyes flicker to the spot where Joel would be.

No one stands next to you. All that’s left is snow and the imprint of boots.

You also notice…your hot chocolate has been warmed.

-

“Santa lives here? In Austin Texas? What happened to the North Pole?” Walking behind him, you sound like a bummed out kid who just found out Santa isn’t real.

“Shit said to throw the FBI off.” Joel Miller replies bluntly, and you don’t know if he’s joking or not.

His house, rustic and cozy, holds a spacious warmth. But it feels vacant, unusually quiet for a man known to bring joy and the personification of Christmas warmth.

“So how does one become Santa?” You ask.

“Long story.” Another curt reply.

“Well, if I’m gonna be your wife shouldn’t I know these things?” Just saying the words aloud didn’t seem real.

You can’t believe you’re doing this.

The new home draws in your full attention trying to soak it all in. So many photos of two girls cover the walls and they grow right before your eyes. Curiously, you ask about them.

“They’re my daughters.” Joel answers simple.

Your eyes go wide.

He had children.

“They’re the reason why we’re here actually.” Joel adds while he moves around his cozy kitchen.

He reveals ‘Santa Claus’ is simply a title for someone to fill. It’s a hefty role. Joel was able to get away without having a spouse with his first daughter, and then again with his second. But now with her about to enter college, Joel was alone.

The stipulation to marry now stood between him and having the title stripped from him.

“Why do you even need to get married?”

“Some shit about needing companionship and other fuckin’ bullshit.” He gruffly explains.

“You could retire.” You offer.

“Don’t wanna.” He roughly replies grabbing papers out of a drawer.

“So your daughters… I’m sure they must’ve been over the moon knowing their dad was Santa.” You try breaking the ice more.

Placing a pen on the table, Joel sighs.

“Look, we don’t gotta do this.” He snaps tight. “This small talk and shit. The sooner we can get this signed and started, the sooner we can get this over with.”

His words sting, becoming sharp barbs that dig in deep.

“Fine.” You grab the pen ready to sign whatever the hell this guy has for you.

A back door opens, and commotion follows. A handsome younger man, with the same dark eyes like Joel that instead sparkle, walks into the kitchen from the garage. Following him are two much older gentleman, one with kind eyes and the other with a glare that could whither a field

“Well now, is this the soon to be Mrs Joel Miller?” The youngest of the bunch says bright and sunny.

Joel introduces you to his brother, Tommy, who is an exact opposite to his sour puss older sibling. Frank, an old family friend, is here to officiate the ceremony. His husband, Bill, would be the other witnesses besides Tommy. Frank and Tommy are thankfully sweet, obviously curious about you.

“Can we get this fuckin’ done with?” Joel snaps.

Now your annoyance triples, and you’re thankful Tommy and Frank chide Joel. Bill snorts amused.

But wanting to leave now too, you’re quick to agree to start the ceremony.

It’s done short and simple in the kitchen - Frank asking you and Joel to take each other as husband and wife. You agree briskly. Joel just nods. There’s not even an exchange of rings, or a kiss to conclude the ceremony.

Joel simply sticks his hand out, a damn handshake becomes your official agreement, your binding wedding vow.

You maybe should have read over the marriage agreement more, could have been smarter and brought a lawyer, even one that might have believed you. But you’re pissed. You simply sign the papers, let Frank go over the documentation, then gather your things.

“Wait, you ain’t gonna stay for lunch?” Joel suddenly questions seeing you get up to leave.

“We got this over with, didn't we, husband? That’s all you wanted right?” Your words are clipped, polite but sharp, that they even sting you.

You apologize to Tommy and Frank for meeting like this. Yet you don’t say another word to your new husband who feels more of a stranger than ever.

-

When you get back to your mom’s place a new sticky note sits on your night stand.

Sorry about today, let me make it up to you.

-J

Underneath is his phone number.

Guess he’s showing off the very classic Santa trick of slipping into houses without anyone noticing he pulled off a breaking and entering.

He answers on the second ring when you call.

“I got Santa’s personal number?” You offer with a gentle treading tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel huffs.

It eases the tension. But hesitation still brews thick, an awkwardness of trying to talk to a stranger who just so happens to be your new husband.

“Uh, shit…Sorry about earlier. Didn’t end up eating lunch. You up for a bite to eat? I'll pay?” His voice is open, letting you decide.

Agreeing, he shows up to your door in record timing.

“Is this traveling fast a Santa thing? How can you travel so fast?” Your curiosity gets the best of you.

Joel simply smirks, not answering, but the silence dances playful now.

He takes you to a cozy barbecue spot on the lake. The Texas winter makes the days crisp, almost stuck between autumn and full blown winter. But in the midday sun, it's rather lovely.

“I’m surprised you’re not busy with everything coming up.” You’re trying stepping into the conversation as eased and natural as possible.

“If I’m tryin’ to scramble to get shit done by now, then I ain’t doing my job right.” He says taking a sip of his beer, and his words ignite a burst of heat in you.

It's attractive… he’s attractive. You can’t deny that.

Lunch is surprisingly casual, relaxed. Joel asks about grad school and about your major, asks about your family. It vaguely feels like a regular first date.

However this is treading the waters between you and him and this strange new circumstance.

This situation has been gnawing at you. Anxiously, you wonder if he judges you for agreeing so quickly, for jumping in because of the money.

“Hey,” it's like he senses your quiet already.

“You still don’t gotta do this. I can head back home right now, rip up those papers and start again.” A sincere tone, gilded in understanding, rings in his voice.

He’s giving you a way out. You shake your head.

You want to see this as something good. So raising your drink up, it’s another cheers to him. This time Joel moves to toast you with his beer.

“I’d call this the strangest wedding reception ever but hey, I’ll take it.” Joel nods. His mountainous shoulders drop seemingly relaxed more.

You laugh, and for the first time, it feels like you’re sitting across a new friend now… who just happens to be your husband.

-

You and Joel start texting. It’s still a bit awkward, and he’s a dry texter which doesn’t help. You get tempted to send him Santa memes, but you’re not sure you can joke with him more.

You check your loans. They’re still there looming like a thick unmovable sludge. So he hasn’t paid it off yet.

Reality and acceptance settles in. This man, the embodiment of Christmas joy, is just that busy even though he said he wasn’t.

At least you helped, or maybe unknowingly sold your soul away and just don’t know it yet. Whatever it is, you slip back into your regular routine and head back to your mom’s.

Pulling up an unknown older red truck sits in front of the house, and you wonder who’s its owner.

Walking inside your mom announces she’s in the kitchen. Tools scattered along the table are a reliving sight. So it’s just the plumber she finally called.

“You didn’t tell me the guy you were seeing is a handy man.” Your mom whispers excitedly.

As if on cue Joel struts out from the bathroom looking something straight from a hallmark movie. The green plaid shirt he wears compliments him beautifully, and it’s hard not to stare at him and his delicious broad ass shoulders.

“Hey.” He greets with a half smirk.

“Was in the neighborhood, wanted to stop by and see if ya wanted to get dinner tonight. Then I remembered you telling me about your mom’s sink.”

You mentioned that during your first lunch with him. How did he remember?

Something soft, swirling with longing, fills your chest, and you try swallowing it back. As thanks, your mom happily suggests Joel joining for dinner here, and panic strikes you fast.

Joel grins bigger seeing you scramble to dissuade him. Of course he agrees.

You never would have guessed Joel ‘prickly as a Christmas cactus’ Miller is a charmer. He even pays for takeout much to your mother’s surprise.

“Didn’t know he was so much…older.” She hesitantly comments when he leaves.

“It’s been nice dating someone more mature.” You half lie. You aren’t ready to tell her the guy is your husband.

Later you text him thanks for fixing the sink and for dinner.

What are husbands for? He replies back.

And you really wish you knew.

-

You’ve wanted to go see the trail of lights, but with your mom working late for the holidays and your friends out of town, you consider making the trip alone.

Until your phone rings.

Joel has now started calling you, simply to chat, ask about how your day is, even just to check up on you. It makes your heart jump.

“Whatcha up to?” His voice rumbles deep and wonderful over the phone.

“Wanted to go to the trail of lights but might skip. No one wants to go.” You sigh.

“I’ll go.” He quickly replies, and your head spins.

If you thought Joel in plaid was a deadly force, him in a thick winter brown coat that highlights his strong frame is an utter sight.

The array of candy colored lights coat the world in a beautiful celestial dream. You’re thankful it’s not busy tonight.

“I’ve always loved Christmas lights.” You admit. It’s one of your favorite parts of being back home.

Surprisingly, he curiously asks about you more, what brought you back home. You of course tell him the truth. Out of state college got too expensive in undergrad, and now going to grad school expenses started piling up.

“So I’m back home.” You simply shrug.

“Ain’t no shame in it.”

You beam at his earnest words.

“Y’know, I haven’t been here in so long.” Joel admits. “Used to come here with the girls all the time when they were little.”

Wanting to embrace this tiny step he’s taking, you ask what they’re like. A soft look, one molten and fatherly, blooms over his face. It suits him, like he was born to be a dad in any lifetime.

Sarah is his eldest, a sweetheart going to school to be a journalist. He had her when was young, way too young, and her mother wasn’t big on wanting to raise a kid at that age.

“So it was just the two of you?” You softly ask.

“Yup, until our Ellie came along.” He nods while another soft grin tugs at his lips.

He tells you Ellie is adopted.

“S’actually a wild story.” Joel begins. “Found her during a run.”

A run, you learn quickly, is when he’s out on Christmas Eve.

“Newborn baby crying on the edge of the fire station. It was freezing as shit that night. Couldn’t just leave her there.” He mutters lost in the memory.

You and him have slowed your walk, now almost glued to each other side by side.

“Was a goddamn miracle.” He adds nodding.

“That’s beautiful, Joel.” You admire, meaning your words.

He goes on telling you Ellie’s already working in her last year of high school, ready to move out, be on her own, ready to start college.

“So I bet when they were kids they were thrilled to know their dad was… who you are.” You state with a warm grin.

Joel barks hollow.

“Couldn’t even threaten them with the naughty list deal. To them I’ll always be dad.” His voice twinkles, it’s like peeling away at the rough exterior to realize Joel is just an extra toasty marshmallow.

He’s still so warm and soft on the inside.

“Can I ask… how did it happen?” You’re worried he’s going to shut you out like he did last time.

But a heavy exhale leaves him. And he tells you…

About a night driving home during the bad snow storm that came many years ago. He stopped to help this man on the side of the road, who he assumed was a mall Santa that had gotten into an accident.

“Instead it was the real fucking deal.”

After that, the previous holder of the title passed away, leaving Joel to take up the mantle.

“Had to say yes,” he says with a shrug. “Even at five years old Sarah was bossin’ me around, telling me I had to…. Haven’t regretted it since.”

Iridescent adoration swallows your body whole begging you to embrace Joel Miller wholly.

“It’s wonderful. It’s brought you so many amazing things,” You can’t even hide your admiration anymore, don’t want to. You don’t want to fight this. You’d be his real fake wife for long as he would let you.

Joel’s face turns to you. His eyes glance straight into your very being, the lights dance among his endless earthen eyes. You want to get lost in the twinkle, already hating how badly you feel drawn to this man.

You try taking in every ounce of Joel here under the cloak of lights. He’s a dream, this fake husband of yours, one that feels like you’re simply allowed to admire but never touch.

Being this close to him, your eyes unfortunately drift to his lips. How bad would it be to kiss this man?

There’s plenty of songs about kissing Santa Claus. Would you simply not be embracing the holiday spirit?

A distant car horn honks and causes you to jump, breaking the hypnotic spell Joel has cast on you. Walking out, sadly heading home, you finally notice something.

It could be the shade of the lights, but the greys in Joel’s beard are starting to appear white.

-

The week before Christmas is a chaotic cluster. So much cleaning and shopping, you want to scream. Joel calls you while you’re braving the mall.

“You sound exhausted, honey.” He says, and the pet name isn’t lost on you.

But it is lost on your rant though. You’re exhausted from trying to find these specific dang muffins your grandmother only refuses to eat while also trying to find a gift for your cousins.

“Gift cards are a lifesaver for a reason.” He comments casually.

“You grant Christmas wishes for a living, and that’s your answer.” You snort.

“I’ve delivered my share of ‘em, so hell yeah they are.”

Even in the mess of the mall’s chaos you laugh. In such a short amount of time, Joel’s presence in your life has solidified steady, unwavering, like he’s always been here. Long chats on drives home, him dropping by with groceries to deliver, it all unfolds so natural. You’re even heading over tonight to have dinner with him and his brother Tommy.

Once you’re back in the car, you notice a new bag sitting in the backseat.

Reacting in you discover not only the damn elusive dinner rolls you’ve been searching for, but a pack of gift cards.

A sticky note sits on top of them.

Don’t hate the gift card

-J

You blame the Yuletide spirit in the air, but your heart soars. It’s like you’ve been swept into a Christmas special. But, you’re waiting for the bad ending to come.

These feelings for Joel have only multiplied, taking root deeper in your heart. The sugared admiration for him now grows fangs becoming a dazed lust. You’ve had dreams of him sweaty and golden above you in bed. You ache to know what he sounds like, to know the feeling of him inside you, to get drunk on his taste.

Heading over to Joel’s you kick away those dangerous thoughts you have for your husband.

A sweet woman answers the door, who introduces herself as Maria, Tommy’s wife.

“Nice to finally meet Joel’s not so secret, secret wife.” She grins. Guess that meant she knew the secret too.

She knows more than you even do as she guides you out back. The shed sitting in the corner of the backyard is unassuming. Yet when you step inside, a full workshop, the size of a Costco, stands glimmering before you.

“It never gets old.” Maria whispers, sensing your stunned awe.

Joel finally steps into view, and you’re taken back. The white among his beard sits stronger. He’s in more comfortable clothes and the gray sweatpants are sinful on him. The sight of his strong arms, his tummy through his tight white shirt, all make you think of biting into his skin -

You yank yourself out of the feral thoughts. Especially when Joel spots you. He blinks, just as stunned as you are.

“Hey, sorry. Got shit tied up here. Y’don’t gotta stay, might not be done until... fuck I don’t even know when.” He sighs, running a hand across his face.

“Can I help?” You blurt out.

Joel blinks at you, almost like he didn’t hear what you said and even squints a bit making him as old as he is.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You ask again.

Joel swallows. “You don’t, fuck...Ya don’t have to.”

You want to and determinedly tell him that.

His eyes widened like you just grew two heads. He recovers swiftly, nodding as he calls Tommy over. The younger Miller brother sees you and winks.

“Come on newbie, let’s getcha set up.”

You, Maria and Tommy are in charge of bulk orders making sure each package has the right amount and ready to be delivered.

“Does he… really have a list?” You ask with a whisper.

“Checks it twice too.” Tommy cheekily replies, and you laugh bubbling with disbelief, but apologize quickly.

“S’all good, trust me it took me a while to realize it’s real. But it’s something damn special once you do.”

You fully agree.

The night is long, but you don’t notice it. You get into a grove and get excited when Maria shows you some of the orders, children getting bikes, someone getting a new pair of shoes. It fills you with something luminous you can’t fully describe.

It’s a reward in itself when you finish a large order and high five Maria and Tommy.

“Well now, we finally get to meet the new Mrs. Joel Miller.” A new voice, smooth but curious, breaks the moment.

Behind you stand a small cluster of older men. You don’t know how, but you just know they’re all previous holders of the title of Father Christmas. It’s only confirmed when Tommy whispers it sharp to you. So these retired men were the ones pestering Joel.

“They usually drop by to do audits, checks and things, didn’t know they would be here this late.” Maria adds low.

“We’ve been wanting to stop by and give our congratulations, but Joel has been so keen on keeping you all to himself.” One of the older gentlemen winks.

You politely smile.

“You’re rather young.” Another man comments.

“Way too pretty for a grouch like Miller.” One, with a thick accent, teases with a grin.

Joel suddenly, as if summoned, comes rushing out from the side and immediately slides in front of you, a protective barrier.

“You’re running a bit behind schedule.” The snarkiest of the men comments to Joel. “Guess the new wife really has been keeping you away.”

Your face scrunches up pissed now, until Joel’s hand moves to hold yours, squeezing it tight.

“He even has you helping, dear?” One of the quieter men asks you, concerned.

“I’m happy to help.” You truthfully answer steady and firm.

You want to be a part of this as much as Joel allows. Not just because you’re his paper wife, but because you care for him.

All of the previous Santas now seem to survey you, practically staring straight into your soul.

“If you gentlemen are done harassing my wife I suggest y’all fuckin’ head home.” Joel barks sharp.

One of them scoffs at this reply.

The main leader of the group glances at you then back to Joel.

“You picked a good one, Joel.” He smiles with a chuckle.

“You take care of this grouch now, pretty lady.” The sweetest of the men beams at you, a twinkle in his eye.

“Get out.” Joel snaps cold, holding your hand tighter than ever.

In a blink, they’re before you, and the next, they’re gone, vanished into the wind.

Your legs feel like they’re about to give out, and you have to lean against Joel who sighs with the same relief.

In the rush, you swear you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head. Tommy and Maria greet you proud. You return back to your station, back to helping.

Until you realize it’s past 1 in the morning, and you can barely keep your eyes open.

“Hey, crash here for the night.” Joel appears besides you, steadying your arm.

“I’ll be fine, I can drive home.” You reassure him through an unconvincing yawn.

“No. You don’t need to. S’cold as hell out there, just stay here.” He urges, and you don’t want to fight him.

So you’re given the guest room and a spare change of clothes, which include an oversized UT Longhorns shirt and sweats, both obviously Joel’s.

Sliding his shirt on, your heart races. The exhaustion, you blame it on the exhaustion, when you pull his shirt up to inhale deeply. The smell is soft, comforting, a mixture of his cologne and something purely musk, purely Joel.

You wonder how bad it would be to touch yourself in his guest room. Glancing out the door to see if you’re alone, that’s when you catch a glimpse of Joel down the hall.

Busy looking at his phone, he’s shirtless and a decadent sight. You fully take in his solid build, the look of a man. His sweatpants have slung lower, revealing the thick trail of hair leading down to his cock. The pudge of his belly is beautiful.

He’s beautiful, and you want him more than anything.

The next morning he’s gone, already hard at work. You enjoy breakfast with Maria and Tommy who you already adore even more.

“Don’t be a stranger now, it’s nice to have a new face around. Plus Joel can’t stop talking about you.” Maria’s words almost make you spit out your tea.

Tommy snickers at your reaction.

Driving back to your mom’s, you already miss the chaos of the Miller household. Arriving home, your heart sinks seeing your relatives have arrived early.

“Oh, back from staying over at a guy’s house? Maybe you’ll finally get a boyfriend that stays around long enough.” Even though your Aunt is trying to be teasing, you already wish she could leave.

“I think he’s a keeper. He’s older too.” You mom explains with a slow whisper, and you send her a look.

Everyone unfortunately perks up at that.

“Really? Well, you know what they say, you should always question why a man doesn’t date a woman his age.” Your Aunt, with such a judgmental tone, tries to sound sincere but it slices you deep.

“It’s not like that.” You reply feeling a new sense of dread crawl in you.

“Is it a sugar daddy situation?” Your cousin jokes, and it gets too much.

You laugh bitter, fake, then head back to your room. You wish more than ever to crawl back to Joel’s.

Back in your room, something new sits waiting for you on your nightstand.

A flower, your favorite, in full bloom has a note tied to it.

Thanks for all the help

This time Joel signs his name with a little scribbled heart.

You cherish it more than gold.

-

“I…won’t be available these new few days.” Joel reveals, almost sounds guilty.

It’s the first time you’ve finally gotten the chance to talk with him free from curious family members trying to eavesdrop.

Here in the dead of night, your heart aches for him.

“I know, kinda figured.” You grin.

He chuckles.

Suddenly a selfish thought tugs at you.

The image has been plaguing you more and more. Does dress up in full Santa gear? He has to, right?

“So do you…fully wear the whole thing? The red suit? White hat?” You ask, waiting for the answer.

“…if I say yes, are ya gonna divorce me?” Joel replies gruff.

You laugh but rush to quiet down trying not to wake anyone. But you reassure him there's no need for divorce.

“Just… kinda wish I could see it.” You admit, feeling greedy wanting to witness the sight.

Joel stays quiet.

“Maybe one day.” He mutters.

“Yeah…” maybe one day.

“Stay safe out there.” You tell him when you hear him yawning more. “And get all the rest you can.”

“Yes ma’am.” He drawls, and you melt.

You don’t hear from him after that.

You deal with more annoying family members. Enjoy some delicious cozy food. All while missing Joel.

Waking up Christmas Eve morning, you see an email.

All your loans are paid in full. It wasn’t just your loans, but your mother’s. Completely debt free - both of you. She cries. You even get teary eyed.

One of your uncles makes a dumb joke about it maybe being a mistake.

“It’s a blessing,” your mom says, grateful.

“No, it’s a gift from Santa.” You beam, knowing no one would believe you.

However, a new fear starts morphing in you.

What did this mean for you and Joel? Is the contract completed? Is this over? Was it only to say he had a wife on paper, parade you as proof, then… never speak to him again?

The questions pester and haunt you the entire rest of the day.

Then night creeps in.

“You wanna leave cookies out for Santa?” Your mom jokes seeing you grab a plate.

“Maybe, but I think I might leave out a beer too.” You reply and she laughs.

Once everyone heads to bed and leaves back to their hotels, you sneak into the living room.

Never in your life would you have imagined ever needing to wait up to see Santa. Much less as a full adult.

And it proves to be a true test of endurance. You doze off a few times but quickly snap your eyes open, worried you’ll miss him.

Checking the time, it’s almost midnight. Of all the nights you want to stay up, fighting asleep is harder than ever.

You don’t even realize your eyes have closed until the softest graze of fingers against your cheek wakes you.

Panicked, scrambling awake, you snap your eyes open and whisper Joel’s name.

Finally blinking into focus, there’s no sign of anyone here.

“Y’left out a beer for me?”

Until the softest smoothest thick accent floats out into the quiet of your living room. You left the tv on, and the light of it blends with the glow from the Christmas tree. It bathes Joel in something sublime.

No classic Santa hat sits on his head, but the way his hair is scruffy and flat, he must have been wearing it before.

But the sight of him in the crimson suit, the soft white fur lined edges of the coat, how bulky and strong he looks… You’re reminded of a rugged cowboy Santa.

It all ignites a wildfire, and now you’re wide awake scrambling out of the blankets to get to him.

Not thinking, almost possessed by some ghost of Christmas present, you rush forward and embrace him. His body, sturdy and solid, radiates a warmth that encompasses you.

“What are ya doing up?” He whispers low while you clutch onto him. You need to touch him with your own hands, feel he’s real. You also don’t miss the gloved hands against your hips.

“Had to see you.” You croak out.

You pull back to look at him.

Finally, you take him in. It’s Joel, the same grumpy Joel that’s changed the oil for your car, who has a soft spot for the stray cats in his neighborhood, and is an amazing father - but it all collides with the truth of who he really is.

A watery laugh comes out of you and you hate that immediately you’re blinking away tears.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Joel immediately asks worried, letting his hands move to rest on your arms, a comforting presence.

You reassure him it’s nothing, trying to wave this reaction off.

“You gotta tell me what’s wrong or else Christmas stops and it’ll all be your fault.” His tone is somber, but you sense the tease, a classic Joel joke among his words.

Shaking your head, you wipe away more tears frustrated at your reaction. Then his hand, gloved but striking in size, cradles your face, and he gently strokes your cheek. Joel turns your face to him.

“Talk to me, honey please.”

You don’t know how to express everything that’s in your heart. It all feels too much - the conflict of realizing where you stand with him, the doubt that brews wondering if he even holds the same affection for you.

“I don’t wanna lose you.” You admit weakly.

It’s that you can muster out, all that you can do to sum up the bundle of emotions storming in your heart.

Joel’s eyebrows furrow. His mouth drops a bit. In the low light, the shadows on his face deepen like caverns aging him beautifully.

“M’not going anywhere. You won’t lose me.” He reassures, even squeezing your face soft.

Those endless eyes that normally stare so direct and with such a magnetic force, now flicker away almost boyish and shy.

“I’m the one afraid of losin’ you.” He mutters, like he’s admitting it more to himself.

His words unwrap your heart releasing so many emotions.

“Joel.” You whisper, a bit hesitant, and his gaze draws back to you.

He seems closer now, his coal-like eyes brewing something untouchable. Silence, a soft shift settles, you taking him in, and him doing the same for you.

You don’t know who moves first. But in a blink his lips descend onto yours.

His mustache tickles. His lips hold a hint of something sweet sugary, indulgent, or you wonder if that’s just Joel.

Strong gloved hands clutch onto you holding your tighter against his frame. He tilts your head, allowing him to kiss you deeper, and your mouth willingly opens begging for more of him.

It isn’t lost on you that you’re kissing Santa Claus, like a cheesy holiday song. But it’s the fact that you’re kissing Joel Miller that melts everything away.

Your fingers find his hair, running through his soft gray locks you’ve dreamed about. Joel groans, and you already want more.

With ease, he lifts you up with one arm and you squeak into his mouth. His chuckle vibrates against your lips, ticklish, until he starts to kiss your jaw, nibbling on the path of your skin.

You sigh, closing your eyes and drawing him closer when he places you back on the couch. Your legs curl against his waist, locking him in as you try molding into him, with him, as much as you can.

His lips find yours again, this time there’s a fevered edge to them. His tongue is messy, licking into your mouth desperate. You moan when he sucks on your tongue.

A blazing hunger takes over making your hips grind against him. Feeling his gloved hands slide up your legs, you whine digging into him harder.

Until he suddenly rips himself away, leaving you feeling empty missing his warmth and body against you.

“Shit…Really gotta go, honey. I can’t say.” Joel sighs. His heavy breathing, the tightness of his jaw, this is as hard for him as it is for you.

“Can’t you be a little late?” You softly question rising back up to kiss up his scruffy beard.

He groans when you softly kitten lick at his upper lip.

“Fuckin’ naughty little thing.” Joel growls.

You softly kiss his lips again.

“Guess that means I’m on the naughty list huh?” The joke slips out, and you already want to hide after hearing yourself.

Joel groans, but this time it’s ripe with embarrassment. You hide your face while he snickers.

“That was bad.”

“I know,” you agree mortified.

Even in your embarrassment, Joel presses a kiss to the crown of your head, and every worry melts away.

He stands up, pulling you gently up with him. Gathering you into his arms, this time Joel feels larger than life but also closer than ever, like he’s stitched inside your heart now.

“When will I see you again?” You hate how badly you miss him already.

“Soon, I promise.” He reassures rubbing your back softly, and you nod back.

His hand moves to hold your face again, gently, like you’re a precious treasure.

And you think he might be yours.

Joel kisses you, the softest sweetest press of his lips that melts into your bones. And when you open your eyes, he’s gone.

All that’s left are the faintest hints of snow flurries on your living room floor…

And of course he made sure to take his beer.

-

When Joel said he’d see you soon, you didn’t think it would be the next morning, Christmas morning.

Softly a hand brushes against your face, slowly waking you. You find yourself back in your bedroom. The soft glow of the winter morning spreads a gentle light that covers your room.

Joel is here, kneeling beside your bed, and immediately you turn towards him.

In this light, his greys look softer, thicker in their shade, like beautiful white streams run from his temples. And his beard looks as if snow flurries have been peppered in more. The red velvet of his suit looks brighter. Your fingers run across the fabric, across his shoulders.

You whisper his name, yet a sadness creeps in again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he nods.

“Are you okay… with us?” It’s a stumbled way to ask, but it’s all you can get out.

Is he okay that you’re much younger than him?

“Yeah, of course.” He nods.

“Actually, Ellie and Sarah were the ones who told me to go for it.” He admits fondly, sleepily.

“They said I needed to be selfish for once, let myself have this…”

His eyes watch you as you sit up to reach him.

“Is that why you were so cold when we first met?” You ask.

Joel nods, sighing.

“Felt awful knowing I was doing this to you, someone so dang young, so fuckin’ beautiful. Hated that you were stuck with a mess of ‘n old man like me.”

“I’d pick you everytime.” The words escape fast. You can’t even stop them.

Instantly he swoops in kissing you with an unchained passion that makes you dizzy.

Immediately you tug at him, begging him to crawl onto the bed. You sigh in bliss when he does, making your mattress creak ever slightly with his glorious solid frame.

His kisses are drenched in a poison intoxicating you.

Clutching onto Joel’s shoulders, you lift your hips when his gloved hands tug at your pj pants.

That’s when you hear the faint laughter of everyone downstairs awake. You freeze. Joel senses your hesitation. That gorgeous nose of his nuzzles against your jaw breathing in the scent of you.

“Y’gonna be a good girl and keep quiet for me?” His thick low voice is all you need because you’re nodding yanking at his shoulders to kiss him again.

This kiss dances along the edge of something fierce and wild, like you’re trying to contain it, hold it back before it spreads and someone hears.

Until Joel’s gloved fingers slip inside your wet heat, and you slap a hand over your mouth to hold back a moan. Feeling his black leather glove inside you has your eyes roll back. Then when you rest your head against the soft fur lining of his coat, it creates such a dizzying sensation you want to get lost in.

“Oh fuck.” He drawls, hoarse.

His fingers pump in and out of you, and the squelch of your wetness sounds downright obscene now. Joel revels in it.

“Letting this ol’ man winter fuck ya while everyone’s down stairs waiting…Y’like that baby?”

You whimper, nodding, clutching onto him harder trying so hard to keep quiet. Then he removes them from your pussy and you whimper at the loss.

Until he draws his gloved fingers, shining and coat in your arousal, up to your lips.

“Can ya clean ‘em off for me?” He mutters.

Without hesitation you pull them into your mouth and suck, letting your tongue wiggle across the leather. You moan tasting this union of you and the leather.

“Shit,” Joel croaks like he got punched in the gut.

Quickly he yanks his hand out from your mouth, rips his gloves off and kisses you feverish.

“Need to feel ya.” He sounds drunk as you feel, even more when his bare fingers thick and warm slip into you again.

He makes you come so fast it knocks you breathless, feeling hot even with the cooler temperature in the room. You whisper begging him to fuck you, to take you here before he heads home -

“Can’t darlin’, but soon I will. I promise.” He reassures you kissing your lips over and over.

“And Santa always keeps his promises, yeah?”

That shouldn’t be so hot, but it is. You greedily kiss him, trying to devour him even more.

“Jesus,” he growls, his accent thicker than ever. “Makin’ it so fuckin’ hard to leave.”

“Then don’t.” You beg.

But then the voices downstairs get louder, and the smell of food warming up floats in.

Joel sighs deflated. You know this is the end for now.

Rubbing his wonderful nose against yours, you lean to press your forehead to his. He breathes out your name, and it sounds like a blessing.

“Merry Christmas, honey.” He whispers softly to you.

A knock comes at your door, and in a panic you drag your blanket up around you.

“You awake yet?” Your mom jokingly asks.

You definitely are now. Of course Joel has vanished.

But something tickles the top of your head. Bundles of mistletoe, twisted among so many lovely ribbons, bloom all along your bed frame.

-

One Christmas Later

“Did I ever show you the shirt Ellie and Sarah sent me last week?” You ask, and Joel, half paying attention, hums.

He pulls his attention away from the Dallas Cowboys game long enough to glance at your phone.

The shirt reads - Mrs Claus but Married to the Grinch

He rolls his eyes, not finding it as amusing as his daughters did.

“Or what about this one.” You show him the next option.

This one, in bright gold lettering, says - Santa’s Sexy Girlfriend

“No.” He flat out pushes the phone away making you laugh and lean against his strong shoulder.

This would be the last night before he heads out on his run. This will also be the first night you get to see him leave, and the first night you’ll get to wait for him now living at his home.

The memories and days that have brought you here are strung up in your heart, luminous multi colored tinsel you never want to take down.

“It’s actually one of the first years we’re ahead of schedule,” Tommy says when you greet him back at the workshop.

“That wife of yours is really something.” Though Tommy talks directly to his brother he makes sure to wink at you.

You’re grateful you got to help out more this year, even enjoyed having Ellie and Sarah around when they came by to visit. But with Ellie now enjoying time with the girl she desperately has a crush on, and Sarah taking the day to spend time with her new boyfriend, it really would just be you and Joel.

A delicious heat crawls in you knowing what you had waiting for him.

But you almost forget about it when you start helping Joel get dressed.

Your throat dries seeing him buckle up his crimson pants, then helping him slide his thick coat on and how broad it accentuates his shoulders…

“You keep lookin’ at me like we’re gonna get behind schedule.” Joel mutters sinful.

“We’re ahead of schedule. We could…mess around for a bit.” You offer light.

“No, being ahead means I can come home earlier.” He very playfully and lightly smacks your ass.

You hate when he’s right.

With a kiss goodbye you send him off returning to the quiet home. You’ll have a day and a half before Joel officially returns. So you spend your time binging multiple movies.

You’re also thankful for the stash of extra cookies you finally found. Joel ‘I ain’t got a sweet tooth’ Miller isn’t so slick with his hiding spots.

The film your best friend recommended is cheesy. But during the scene where the main love interest comes to interrupt the engagement party to announce he loves the bride, cause you to pause.

In theory, you are Joel’s wife. Your mom even jokes that she practically has the most perfect unofficial son in law, if only if she knew the truth. Yet, you don’t have a ring, don’t even use Miller as your last name.

It’s silly, you tell yourself and try not to think about it too much.

So you instead enjoy more cozy snacks and the rare bits of snow Austin is getting this time of year. It’s magical, paints the world like something straight from a Thomas Kinkade dream.

The morning comes when Joel will be home, and you sit waiting on the bed. Don’t even mind you work up early for this.

Earlier confidence surged in you when you slipped into the gorgeous lingerie set. Now it itches on your skin as you sit worried. The bow sitting on your bra might be too much. You almost bought the cute risqué Santa nightgown, but you hesitated.

You didn’t feel like you could truly even joke about being Mrs Claus when you didn't even fully consider yourself Mrs Miller.

“Honey?” Joel announces stepping into the house, and your heart jumps into your throat.

“In here!” You yell back.

Waiting on the bed feels like an eternity passes before Joel opens the door. There’s still snow on his shoulders. His hair is starting to grow out more so it curls around his ears. He’s never looked more gorgeous.

Then his face falls and his eyes become full moons taking in the sight of you before him.

“Oh baby,” he whispers like he can’t believe his eyes.

You grin sleepy.

With eased measured steps Joel walks forward, and you’re reminded of a hunter trying to approach his prey.

He drags his fingers, ungloved, warm and callous from all the hard work he does, up your exposed skin leaving a trial of heat in their wake.

“Can I unwrap my present?” He mutters, allowing his fingers to drift with. Delicate touch across the top of your breast barely kept in by the lace covered bra.

“Yeah, Joel please.” You sigh, closing your eyes when his large hand suddenly grasps, squeezing your breast.

The poor lingerie doesn’t make it out alive.

Now you drift in and out of sleep, naked in his arms. Joel kisses your forehead promising he’ll buy you as many new sets as you want.

“Merry Christmas to both of us.” You dryly joke.

He laughs, but it sounds a bit weak, more like a cough.

“Uh, speaking of Christmas gift… y’want yours now or later when we wake up?”

That makes you bolt up fast from his arms.

“I told you not to get me anything, Miller.” You protest, glaring at him.

Joel rolls his eyes.

“You’re telling me of all people not to get you something?” He scoffs.

“Then I don’t want it.” You stubbornly pout back.

“Alrighty then, I’ll return it tomorrow.” Sleepily he shrugs and turns on his side giving you full sight of his glorious sun kissed bare back. You try not to linger on the scratch marks you left behind.

Now you persistently tell him to give it to you.

“Sounds like what you were saying a few minutes ago.” He teases with a smirk glancing over to you from his shoulder.

Now you roll your eyes.

“Give me the gift Miller, or else.” You shake his shoulder trying to sound somber like Joel himself, but a smile tugs at your lips.

Dramatically, he groans sitting up.

“Making an old man like me get up after the long ass night I had.” He says reaching over to his nightstand.

“Oh please, if I asked you to go another round you would.” You scoff.

“You wanna?” He asks with a curious mutter, and you shove his shoulder again playful.

“Fine, fine.” Joel grumbles.

After reaching under the bed, he returns back with a box…covered in dinosaur wrapping paper.

“Look, it was the only one I had left over here.” He explains seeing your confusion.

“Joel, you work at a magical workshop where there's an endless supply of cute Christmas wrapping paper. Why didn’t you grab some?!” You laugh.

“Didn’t wanna mess up the inventory.” He huffs, grumpy and classically Joel.

“You gonna open it or am I gonna have to hide it again?”

At his words you greedily rip off the paper.

You guess by the size it looked like a shoe box and it is, a familiar box you thought you threw away. Now you’re confused.

Opening it, inside is an even smaller box. This one is classically wrapped in green and red with a shining bow on top.

But when you pick it up, you discover the tiny box is heavy. There’s also a latch at the back begging for you to lift and open.

Inside sits a ring, dancing with a shimmering sparkle.

You already fight back the tears.

Is this what you think it is?

Whipping your face to Joel he seems hesitant, worried, while he keeps his focus on you.

“I know we might’ve done this backwards but…” he reaches for the ring, gingerly pulling it out.

“Wanna make it official now.”

You inhale sharp.

“Honey I’ll get down on one knee if you want, but might take me a while to get back up…” he jokes, but the edge of his voice is watery, shaky, like he’s the one barely holding on.

“But…will you marry me again-”

You don’t even let him finish before you rush to kiss him. The tears come, fast and free like a wave, but they’re beautiful. You embrace it all.

Joel slides the ring in your finger. The weight of the beautiful metal feels wonderful against your skin, but you don’t notice it. Not when you’re swept up in making love to your Joel, your fiancé.

The love bursting through your heart could swallow you whole and you would let it.

“I love you,” he admits against your skin, breathing out like he’s finally found a moment of rest.

“I love you too.” You rub his back soaking in the bliss among the sweat and heat of his body against yours.

It’s just you and your Mr Claus.

“I’m glad Santa granted my wish.” You mutter dreamy, not caring how embarrassing you sound.

That is until Joel lifts his head up, those wonderful eyes of his shine brighter than any northern star.

“Mine too, honey.” He mutters, kissing you tenderly, a sweet promise of more beautiful Christmas days to come.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Alucard/Adrian with a s/o who's a polymath (she's a writer, an inventor, a spokeswoman, a scientist, etc.)?

"I don't know how you stand being with them." Alucard turned to look at Trevor. Confused by his unwarranted incredulous thought. "How can you stand being with someone so...perfect?"

The dhampir shrugged. "They aren't perfect."

"Damn near." Trevor countered. "I mean, I get it. Sypha is way smarter than me. But to have them be better at everything than you? That just sounds rough."

"There are bowls of fruit that are smarter than you Belmont." Alucard retorted. "And, they aren't better at everything."

"Name one thing."

"Dinner is ready!"

As if on cue, [Y/N] came into the room with a big smile and a big pot. Trevor saw Alucard straighten his shoulders. Steeling himself, in a way, and he couldn't understand why. Then, when the pot of what he assumed was .....soup?...was sat down in front of him, he could understand why. "Good gods...."

"Thank you darling. Could you get us some napkins please?"

"Sure!" [Y/N] beamed at Alucard before flittering off to get some. After dishing out the 'soup' of course.

"What the hell's even is this? Is that a fish head?!"

"They said something about making a roast earlier." Trevor's head whipped around as they watched the half-vampire poke at some manner of vegetable with a stoic look. Particularly stoic given that it looked like it could bite back. "I guess it went awry."

"I can't eat this. I don't think I could survive it."

"Hmmm.... it's a possibility. I've had a few close calls. Your human constitution may not make it."

"How did this even happen?? I mean...they can nearly do alchemy and handle your science magic. They make medicine! How can they fuck up a soup??"

"Ours is not to question why."

Trevor rubbed his face. Partly out of frustration. Partly to hide the look of it and smell. "You're not really going to eat this are you? I mean...you guys are messing with me, right."

"I can assure you they are not."

"And you're really going to eat this? Like, seriously?" Alucard picked up his spoon and seemed intent to do just that. "Why??"

"Because they try."

Trevor was surprised by the comment. Then he felt like a real heel. Someone had gone through all the work of making him food and he was complaining about it. How quickly he forgot about those days of hunger outside their company. They tried. He should at least try what they made in return.

Picking up his spoon as well, Trevor looked at the bowl and said a little prayer to all the saints he could remember. "It helps if you don't look directly at it." Alucard commented. Before they both tucked in and hoped (prayed) for the best.

[natalievoncatte]

“Director Danvers, Lena Luthor is here.”

Alex stared at the speaker on her desk for a moment, feeling her anger rise. She didn’t need this now. Whatever stunt Lena was pulling, now was not the time. She had fires to put out and Supergirl was out of the fight.

Kara, a voice whispered. Kara, your sister.

Alex’s prime directive was take care of Kara. Yet here she was, again, dealing wit the aftermath of Kara being knocked down and beaten to a pulp in service of people she didn’t even know. Half of them hated and feared her now.

How had she let this happen? By small allowances. Step A led to Step B and then on to Step C. It started with looking the other way while Kara foiled robberies and rescued cats from trees and led to Kara defacto joining an organization whose mandate was, on paper, to imprison her or worse. She told herself that she was doing good, that between her and J’onn, they had become the wolves keeping the wolves from the door. Under the right leadership, an organization mandated to “control” aliens could help and protect them.

It gave her no comfort when Kara was lying in the sunroom unconscious, and the government was breathing down Alex’s neck while J’onn was off finding himself on some pacifist bullshit quest.

(Why did their fathers always leave them? Were the Danvers girls doomed to face everything alone?)

Now Lena was here. Luthor’s sister. Alex had let herself trust this woman and she wasn’t sure how that happened either.

Might have been because her kid sister, her precious dumbass kid sister, was over the moon for her Lena and didn’t even know it.

It was Luthor who did this to Kara, Luthor and his allies. Alex had enough of this. There would be no trial this time. No public spectacle. She didn’t care if it ended her career or even her freedom, she was going to kill him, because Kara couldn’t. Kara would always look for the other way, the perfect solution. She was beautiful and good, a hero who came from the heaven to set things right. A saint.

Alex was not and she never pretended she could be.

She drummed her fingers on the desk and stared at the speaker and said, “Keep her in the lobby.”

“No, Director, I mean she’s here, outside your door. We… she can be persuasive.”

Alex reached over wearily and hit the button to open the doors.

Lena marched in, and the sight of her took Alex aback. The boardroom predator with the razor sharp hairstyle, flawless makeup and fuck me pumps was gone, replaced by what Alex would think was Lena’s kid sister under other circumstances. She looked her age, for once, dressed in faded jeans and a threadbare MIT sweatshirt, carrying a battered messenger bag.

Alex had never seen Lena so bedraggled. Her hair was a chaos of unkempt curls pulled into a low ponytail and she was sans makeup, and for good reason. Her eyes were painfully red and the tracks of her tears were as livid as if they’d been left by claws. Her bottom lip was trembling and she fiddled with the strap of her bag.

“Close the door,” said Lena. “Can we talk here? Is this room secure?”

Alex pushed the button and closed the doors.

She had barely said “Yes”.

“Where’s Kara?”

“Not here. Why would she be at the-“

“Don’t fuck with me, Alex.”

Alex looked at her sharply. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish here with this, after you started working with Lex again.”

Lena stormed forward and slammed her palms on the desk, rattling Alex’s possessions. She leaned forward and glared with Alex with a furious, teeth-baring demand.

“The clone almost killed her. Where is she?”

Alex swallowed hard. “I’m not sure what-“

Lena cut her off. “I know Kara is Supergirl, Alex. I need to see her. Please.”

Alex rocked back in her chair as if struck by a physical force. The words slam into her chest like a brick into her sternum.

She knows.

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve know for months. But you have to listen to me. Lex knew. He told me her identity, tried to throw it in my face so I’d turn on her. He knew her real name, he knew about you, he knew about your mother. You have to do something now.”

“Oh my God,” Alex said, standing. Mom.

“He wasn’t going to stop, Alex!” Lena blurted, almost hysterical. “He was never going to stop. He was going to kill her, he swore to me that she was going to die. I had to do it!”

“Do what?” Alex whispered.

“I had to kill him,” Lena wailed, balling her fists impotently as if she were trying to choke her own soul. “I had to!”

The reality of it slams into Alex and before she knows it she’s rushed around the desk to throw her arms around her friend, all thoughts of Luthors and loyalty and everything else going out the window as Lena sobs into her should.

“I killed my big brother.”

Lena’s voice so so small, so broken, that Alex can’t help but sob with her.

The fucking bastard just wouldn’t stop hurting them, even in death. Alex didn’t believe in hell but she wished she did for Lex Luthor.

Lena’s sobbing ebbed but did not fade entirely. There was only one cure for that.

“Come on, let’s go see our girl.”

Alex led Lena outside. First, she flagged down Brainy and gave quick, clipped orders: Get Eliza and get her here now, and find Nia and do the same. Then make a list of anyone Lex might have targeted and find them and get them secured.

Then she took Lena to the sunroom. They stopped outside and Alex handed her a pair of silly looking goggles.

“We can’t stay long, the light is too intense even with sunscreen, and you look like you burn.”

“Like a lobster,” Lena choked, pitifully.

Alex entered the code and opened the door.

Kara lay on the padded bed in a paper gown, bathed in sunlight. She was a mass of bruises and her right arm and left leg were in casts, a collar wound her neck. She’d been unconscious for three days now, possibly in the same kind of healing hibernation she’d fallen into after her first fight with Reign.

Lena rushed to Kara’s side and cupped her cheeks with her hands, brushing back sweat-dampened hair.

“Oh God,” Lena blurted, “oh please oh God Kara wake up.”

“She’s been out for days,” said Alex. “She’s stable, just not coming around. This has happened before. We think it’s part of how her body heals serious injuries. It just takes time. She’ll wake on her own when she’s ready.”

Lena didn’t even seem to hear her. She leaned down with an intensity and intimacy that shocked Alex to the core, and then shocked her further. Lena loosed three words in a language from a dead world that she has no business knowing.

“Zhao w rrip.”

Alex was thunderstruck. Lena knew Kryptonian?

“Lex had a translation dictionary,” said Lena. “I just hope I pronounced it right.”

“We need to go,” Alex said, glumly. “You can stay at the DEO. We could use your help and it’s safer for you here anyway.”

“Just let me stay another minute. Please.”

“If I do, your face will be peeling off tomorrow. We can visit again later. Come on.”

“I can’t,” Lena choked out. “I can’t leave her.”

Alex was an about to say something else when her mother fell open. Kara’s eyes fluttered open and she immediately turned to Lena, bleary-eyed.

“Did you mean that?”

“Yes, Kara, I meant it.”

“But zhao means-“

“I know what it means,” Lena insisted, so full of joy now. “I know what it means, darling. That’s how I meant it. I love you, Kara.”

Oh.

Alex swallowed hard. She didn’t want to interrupt but Lena, and not to mention Alex herself, would get very sick very fast if they didn’t leave this room.

Lena grasped Kara’s uninjured hand.

“You have to go. It’s not safe for humans in here.”

Lena swallowed hard, her throat bobbing.

“Before I… can I…?”

“Yes,” Kara whispered.

Lena darted down and gave Kara a quick, soft kiss on her lips, lingering for just a moment. Kara smiled at her and their hands slid apart as Alex half dragged Lena out of the room and closed the door, then ripped off her sun shades and stared.

“How long?” she breathed.

“I’ve been in love with her for at least for years now,” Lena said, her voice cracking a little. “I’ve wanted to tell her for so long.”

Lips trembling, Alex was besieged. She remembered every time that she told Kara to stay away, not to trust her, not to tell her. The weight of what she has done presses her down as firmly as the knowledge that Kara will be healed soon lifts her up. There’s only one thing she can do.

She swept Lena into a bear hug.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for doubting you and pushing you apart. I’m sorry I didn’t see sooner.”

Lena, at last, fully broke down in Alex’s arms. Later, when Eliza arrived, she passed off Lena-hugging duties to her mother until Kara was fully awake and can leave the sunroom.

Then, Alex went and did what you do for family.

She got rid of the body.

[eepwtf]

PUNISHABLE—soldier boy x catholic boy part 2

find part one here ⤷ part numero uno

warnings; religious guilt and themes, power dynamics, somnophilia, degradation and humiliation kink, jerking off to underwear (i think my boy has a fetish for that, ben lock your underwear drawer), handjobs, jerking each other off, blowjobs, (not lasting even a minute because first time blowjob, ben being a little shit about it) wc: 5.5k

“you’re such a fucking perv,” benjamin continued, his tone light, almost conversational, as though discussing the weather. “jerking off into my underwear like some desperate little bitch. did you think i wouldn’t notice?” he pressed harder, his hand gripping you through the fabric, and you couldn’t hold back the quiet whimper that escaped your lips.

“liar,” he sing-songs, his tone dripping with regalement. “you act like such a good little saint, all those prayers, all that piety—s’just a cover for the filthy little pervert hiding underneath.”

after that night, you couldn’t look at benjamin the same way. the memory of his hands on you, his voice low and coaxing, lingered like a brand burned into your skin. it churned in your gut, twisting and gnawing until it felt like your insides were corroding, eaten away by the acid of shame. each time you saw him—his easy smirk, the casual way he draped himself over the furniture, the faint smell of him that hung in the air—you felt your stomach turn, the shame rising thick and bitter in your throat.

you couldn’t stay in the room. the air felt too close, too full of him, his presence pressing against you like a weight you couldn’t bear. so you fled. the small catholic temple on campus became your refuge, though it offered no comfort. it was little more than a cramped chapel tucked into an old building, the stained glass faded and chipped, the pews scarred with years of scratches and carvings. the faint smell of candle wax and incense clung to the air, mingling with the scent of mildew from the damp stone walls. the temple became a tomb, and you were the corpse, rotting from the inside out.

you spent hours there, more time than you did in class or the dorm. you’d sit in the shadow of the crucifix, its weathered wood warped and splintering, staring up at the lifeless eyes of Christ as if begging him to look back. the silence was oppressive, heavy and suffocating, but it felt right—like the weight of your sin, tangible and inescapable. you sat for hours in the shadow of his body, staring at the weathered wood, splintering and warped, as if waiting for him to come alive and condemn you. his hands were outstretched, pierced and bleeding, his face frozen in agony. you imagined he looked at you with that same pain, that same accusation, and it broke something inside you.

you tried to pray, the rosary beads dug into your palms, leaving angry red marks that faded too quickly to feel like real penance. you clutched them tighter, grinding the crucifix into your skin until it almost bled, muttering the Act of Contrition until the words blurred together, but the guilt remained, festering like an open wound.

o my God, i am heartily sorry for having offended Thee... the words came out cracked and hollow, meaningless, swallowed up by the suffocating silence of the chapel. …because i dread the loss of heaven, and the pains of hell... but it was too late for heaven. ...but most of all because they offend Thee, my God...

the guilt felt like chains around your chest, tightening with every syllable, dragging you down into an abyss you could never climb out of. …who art all good and deserving of all my love. You didn’t deserve his love. you didn’t deserve anything.

you took to kneeling on the cold stone floor, refusing the comfort of the pews. the sharp bite of the stone against your knees felt like punishment, the only tangible way to feel the weight of your sins. sometimes you stayed there until your legs went numb, until the pain turned into a dull ache and then into nothingness. other times, you pressed your forehead to the ground, curling into yourself like a body at a wake, wishing the earth would swallow you whole.

your whispered prayers became desperate, broken things, half-choked with sobs you tried to silence. “i’m sorry,” you’d mutter, over and over, your voice cracking. “God, i’m so sorry. please, forgive me.” but no forgiveness came. only silence.

at night, you dreamt of fire. the memory of benjamin played on an endless loop in your mind: his hands gripping you, his voice low and coaxing, the heat of his breath against your skin. it burned you from the inside out, an inferno you couldn’t escape. when you closed your eyes, you could still see the smirk on his face, the way his gaze had locked onto yours in the mirror. “such a pretty mess.” the words echoed in your skull, a taunt, a curse, a brand seared into your very soul. you felt it sinking into your flesh, carving itself into your bones. you’d wake up gasping, clawing at your skin, trying to scrape it away. but it was always there, a stain you couldn’t wash off.

you thought about confession, about spilling your sins to the priest behind the screen. but the idea of speaking the truth aloud, of hearing it in your own voice, made your stomach churn. The words “i touched myself, i wanted him, i wanted it” felt too filthy to utter, even in the privacy of the confessional. so you stayed silent.

the darkness festered inside you, growing like a sickness. you began to wonder if this was your punishment—not the fires of hell, but this slow, quiet decay. a part of you hoped it was, because it meant God was still watching, still listening, even if only to damn you.

and yet, no matter how much you prayed, no matter how deeply you knelt, the memory of benjamin lingered. his touch, his voice, his scent—they wrapped around you like chains, dragging you down. you were no longer yourself. you were a sinner, a vessel for guilt and shame, rotting in the shadow of the cross.

each day bled into the next, the hours merging into a haze of suffocating monotony. time slipped through your fingers like sand, gritty and coarse, leaving only the weight of your sins behind. the chapel became your entire world, a dim, crumbling sanctuary where you sought absolution and found only torment. you avoided your dorm, your classes, even the dining hall—anywhere benjamin might be. the thought of facing him, of seeing his smirk twist into something cruel or indifferent, made your chest seize.

still, he haunted you.

he was in every shadow, every flicker of light that danced on the stone walls. his voice lingered in the back of your mind, a low, mocking drawl that you couldn’t silence no matter how many Hail Marys you whispered. and the worst part? it wasn’t just shame you felt.

in the deepest recesses of your mind, where the guilt couldn’t reach, a darker truth festered. you wanted him. you still wanted him. the memory of his hands on you, the sound of his breath in your ear, the warmth of his body pressed close—it didn’t just torment you; it consumed you. late at night, you found yourself replaying it all in your mind, over and over. your body betrayed you in the quiet, a burning need rising up that you couldn’t suppress no matter how tightly you clutched the rosary, no matter how fervently you prayed for absolution.

the shame was unbearable, searing hot and cloyingly thick, but it wasn’t enough to stop the betrayal of your own body. your cock ached, straining against the fabric of your sweatpants, a constant reminder of your weakness. you rolled onto your side in your bed, clenching your fists, digging your nails into your palms until they left crescent-shaped marks. you whispered prayers under your breath, begging for the ache to subside, for your body to stop betraying you. but it didn’t.

it never did.

and then there was benjamin, sleeping across the room. the rise and fall of his chest, slow and steady, filled the small space with a rhythmic calm that only made your torment worse. the soft sighs he gave in his sleep, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the way his lips parted slightly as he breathed—it was maddening. you hated him for being so effortlessly beautiful, for existing in a way that made it impossible for you to look away.

your hand found its way to your cock before you could stop it, the need too overwhelming to resist. you pressed your face into the pillow, biting down hard to stifle the shameful sounds threatening to spill from your throat. your other hand clutched the rosary still tangled around your wrist, the beads biting into your skin as you stroked yourself, slow and deliberate, trying to stay quiet.

your eyes stayed fixed on him, on the faint glow of moonlight that traced the curve of his jaw, the soft shadows that played across his face. each breath he took seemed louder than the last, each shift of his body under the covers like a whisper meant only for you.

it was wrong. it was so fucking wrong. but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t stop. the crucifix above your bed seemed to watch, its lifeless eyes boring into you as if condemning every shudder, every gasp, every sinful thought. you imagined Christ’s agony, his blood dripping from the crown of thorns, his body nailed to the cross for your sins—and here you were, defiling his sacrifice with every stroke, every filthy thought. it should have stopped you. it should have made you fall to your knees in repentance. but instead, it only made the guilt more unbearable, the shame more suffocating, until the pressure inside you broke. your lips moved in silent prayer even as your strokes quickened, the contradiction tearing you apart. "forgive me, Father," you whispered, your voice choked and broken. but even as you begged for absolution, your body craved release.

your gaze flicked to benjamin. he had shifted in his sleep, one arm flung above his head, his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin. the sight made your mouth go dry, your hips bucking into your fist as a low, shuddering moan escaped you. you imagined his hand replacing yours, his voice a low, mocking drawl coaxing you to give in. the thought alone sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your breaths coming faster, more desperate. “ben,” you whispered, the name slipping past your lips before you could stop it. the sound felt sacrilegious, an invocation of something dark and forbidden.

the beads of the rosary dug deeper into your wrist, the pain grounding you even as your strokes grew frantic. pre-cum slicked your fingers, the wet sound obscene in the silence. the shame was suffocating, a thick, rancid weight that settled in your chest, but you couldn’t stop. your gaze stayed fixed on him, on the soft curve of his jaw, the soft fluttering of his lashes. the ache inside you swelled, sharp and consuming, until it was too much to bear. your body convulsed, thick spurts of cum spilling over your hand, your hips jerking against the mattress as you bit down hard on your pillow to muffle your cries.

the shame was instant and suffocating, crashing down on you like a wave. you froze, your body trembling as the reality of what you’d done settled over you like a shroud. benjamin stirred, a soft murmur escaping his lips as he shifted again, his face relaxing back into the peaceful stillness of sleep. you watched him, your heart pounding in your chest, and the weight of your sin crushed you.

you wiped your hand on the sheets, bile rising in your throat as the reality of what you’d done sank in. you whispered a broken prayer, the words cracking in your throat, and vowed never to give in again. but deep down, you knew the truth. you would.

the shame should have stopped you. it should have dragged you to your knees, should have compelled you to throw open the chapel doors and confess everything—every sinful thought, every wretched desire, every stroke of your hand that mocked the sanctity of your faith. and yet it didn’t.

the guilt had only festered, growing into something dark and rotten that you couldn’t contain. and now, hidden beneath your blankets in the suffocating quiet of your dorm, it had led you to this. benjamin’s underwear was clutched in your trembling hand. you’d stolen it—there was no other word for it—plucked it from his laundry basket earlier that day when the dorm was empty, your chest pounding with adrenaline and revulsion. you had told yourself you wouldn’t do anything, that you just wanted to hold it, to feel the weight of him, the scent of him.

but now, here you were, your cock throbbing in your palm, slick with pre-cum as you wrapped the soft fabric around yourself. it was warm from your grip, but not nearly as warm as you imagined it would be if benjamin were still wearing it. the thought sent a shiver through you, your hand tightening as you began to stroke yourself again, this time slower, more deliberate. the waistband of the underwear brushed against the sensitive head of your cock, and you bit down on your lip to stifle a groan.

in your mind, benjamin wasn’t asleep in his bed across the room. he was here, standing over you, wearing nothing but the underwear now wrapped around your cock. you imagined the way it would cling to him, the fabric stretched taut over his hips, his cock outlined against it. you imagined the heat of him, the weight of him pressing against your palm as you slid your hand beneath the waistband, your fingers brushing against his skin.

you imagined him smirking down at you, his voice low and mocking. "you couldn’t help yourself, could you?" he’d say, his tone dripping with condescension. "you’re so fucking desperate for me." your hips bucked at the thought, the motion jerking the fabric tighter around your cock. the shame clawed at you, hot and suffocating, but it only made the pleasure more acute, more overwhelming.

you closed your eyes, the image of benjamin vivid behind your eyelids. you imagined his cock hard against the fabric, slick with his own pre-cum, mixing with yours. you imagined the way he’d groan, low and guttural, as your cum spilled over the fabric, soaking it, staining it. your hand moved faster, the friction of the fabric almost too much, almost unbearable. the scent of him clung to your skin, faint but intoxicating, filling your lungs with every breath. it was wrong—God, it was so wrong—but you couldn’t stop.

"ah—fuck, ben," you whispered again, the word slipping out unbidden, dripping with need and desperation. the sound of his name on your lips sent you over the edge, your body convulsing as your cum spilled over the stolen underwear, thick and hot and endless. for a moment, you couldn’t move. the shame was immediate, cold and biting, sinking into your chest like a blade. the crucifix on the wall seemed to loom closer, its lifeless eyes staring down at you in silent condemnation.

you looked at the mess in your hand, at the fabric now stained with your sin, and bile rose in your throat. you felt filthy, wretched, unworthy of the air you breathed. but even as the shame suffocated you, even as the bile threatened to spill, a darker thought twisted its way into your mind. you imagined slipping the underwear back into benjamin’s laundry basket, unwashed, unclean. you imagined him putting it on, feeling the dampness against his skin, not knowing—never knowing—that it wasn’t his sweat, but yours.

the morning light filtered through the blinds, casting golden streaks across the room. you pretended to sleep, curled beneath your blanket as benjamin stirred in the bed across from you. your body felt heavy with the lingering weight of guilt, your stomach churning as the events of the night before replayed in vivid, shameful detail.

you could hear him moving around—footsteps padding softly across the room, the faint rustle of his laundry basket as he dug through it. your pulse quickened, a sick sort of dread rising in your chest as you realized what he was doing. you squeezed your eyes shut, your breathing shallow and uneven, your entire body tensed as you waited for the inevitable moment when he would find it. the underwear, his underwear. covered in your mess.

the sound of fabric being shifted stopped abruptly, and for a moment, there was silence. your heart pounded in your ears, so loud you were sure he could hear it, but you didn’t dare move. “fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, and your stomach twisted into knots.

you risked the smallest glance, peeking through your lashes just in time to see him holding the underwear up, his brow furrowed as he inspected the faint, crusted stains on the fabric. your breath hitched, panic clawing at your throat. he knows, you thought, the words ringing like a death knell in your mind. but then he shrugged, tossing the underwear onto his bed. “guess it’s just detergent or something,” he said to himself, his voice casual, unconcerned.

relief flooded through you, hot and dizzying, but it was short-lived. because then, to your absolute horror, he began to undress. you turned your face back into the pillow, your entire body trembling as you tried to feign sleep. but no amount of self-control could stop the way your breath quickened, the way your cock stirred traitorously beneath the blanket as you listened to the soft rustle of his shirt being pulled over his head, the faint thud of his sweats hitting the floor.

and then, the sound of him slipping on the underwear.

you couldn’t see him, but you didn’t need to. the image was burned into your mind: benjamin, his toned body half-dressed, the stolen underwear hugging his hips, clinging to him. you imagined the fabric pressing against his cock, damp and sticky with your dried release. “shit,” he muttered suddenly, a note of irritation in his voice.

and then, benjamin turned. you quickly shut your eyes, feigning sleep as your heart hammered in your chest. the sound of his footsteps grew louder, closer, until they stopped right beside your bed. “you awake, perv?” his voice was low, teasing, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down your spine.

you didn’t move, didn’t so much as twitch, praying he’d lose interest and go away. but instead, benjamin chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through the quiet room like a taunt. “yeah, that’s what i thought.” you felt the blanket shift, a slight tug as he pulled it down just enough to reveal your growing bulge. the cool air hit you, making your cock twitch beneath the thin fabric of your sweats, and you cursed yourself silently. “look at this,” benjamin murmured, his tone dripping with amusement. his palm pressed harder, rubbing against you through the fabric. you bit down on the inside of your cheek, struggling to suppress the gasp threatening to escape.

“can’t even keep it down in your sleep,” he said, palming you through the fabric. “what were you dreaming about, huh? was it me?” you wanted to die. you wanted to disappear, to sink into the mattress and never resurface. your hips shifted involuntarily, just slightly, into his touch. it was instinct, pure and pathetic, and you hated yourself for it. and oh, benjamin didn’t miss it. “oh, you like that, don’t you?” his fingers curled around the outline of your cock, stroking slowly, teasingly, as if to prove his point. the friction of your sweats and the heat of his hand made your entire body tense, a shudder running down your spine.

“bet you’d like it even more if i used my mouth,” he mused, his voice laced with cruel amusement. “or maybe my hand. would that make you feel better, freak?” your breaths came faster, shallow and uneven, as his hand moved with deliberate, maddening slowness. you could feel the heat of his palm, the friction of your sweats against your sensitive skin, and it was driving you insane. “you’re such a fucking perv,” benjamin continued, his tone light, almost conversational, as though discussing the weather. “jerking off into my underwear like some desperate little bitch. did you think i wouldn’t notice?” he pressed harder, his hand gripping you through the fabric, and you couldn’t hold back the quiet whimper that escaped your lips.

benjamin froze, his smirk audible even before you opened your eyes. “oh,” he said, dragging the word out, his voice dripping with mockery. “so you are awake.” you couldn’t help it; your eyes cracked open, just barely, and you met his gaze. his green eyes were bright with amusement, his smirk sharp and predatory. “figures,” he said, his voice soft and cutting. “couldn’t even keep up the act, could you?” before you could think of a response—or even move—benjamin’s hand moved again, his strokes deliberate, slow enough to make you squirm. you hated him, hated yourself, hated the unbearable heat pooling low in your stomach, but most of all, you hated that you didn’t want him to stop.

and then, to your shock and mounting arousal, he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of your sweats, his touch hot and unforgiving against your skin. benjamin’s smirk only widened as his fingers curled around your bare cock, stroking with a firm, teasing grip that made your breath hitch. he watched your face, his green eyes sharp with predatory amusement as he took in every twitch of your features, every shudder of your chest. “look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and taunting. “so fucking hard for me. bet you’ve been dreaming about this for weeks, haven’t you? jerking off into my underwear, imagining my mouth on your cock.”

the words sent a fresh wave of shame crashing over you, burning hot and stifling in your chest. the guilt churned, twisting your stomach into knots even as your hips bucked into his hand, completely betraying you. you felt trapped between the two warring parts of yourself—the part that wanted to resist, to run, and the part that wanted nothing more than to give in, to let him ruin you completely. “you know what your problem is?” ben said, his grip tightening just enough to make your vision blur. “you’ve been holding back, keeping all that tension bottled up. you’re so fucking repressed it’s almost sad.”

your throat tightened at the accusation, the words hitting a nerve you didn’t even realize was raw. he wasn’t wrong. every day spent in the chapel, every whispered prayer for forgiveness, every shame-fueled confession—it had all built into this. the weight of your own guilt loomed heavy over you, wrapping around your chest like a vice even as benjamin’s touch ignited a fire deep in your core. “you probably think this is a sin, don’t you?” he whispered, leaning in close enough that his breath was hot against your ear. “some terrible, shameful thing. but you don’t look very sorry to me.”

his voice was like a devil on your shoulder, coaxing you further into the abyss. your lips parted, a faint, broken sound escaping as his hand moved faster, slick with precum now, the obscene sounds of his strokes filling the air. “you’re not gonna pray your way out of this one, baby,” benjamin murmured, his tone mockingly sweet. “but don’t worry—i’ll take care of you. all you have to do is let me.” before you could process what was happening, he dropped to his knees, his smirk softening into something almost reverent as he looked up at you. the sight was enough to steal your breath—benjamin, kneeling between your legs, his hands on your thighs as he tugged your sweats down just enough to free your cock completely.

“fuck,” he muttered, his eyes darkening as he took you in. “look at you. so hard, so desperate. you’re fucking dripping, sweetheart.” you wanted to deny it, to shrink away from his words, but the evidence was undeniable. precum beaded at the tip, glistening in the soft morning light. benjamin’s thumb swiped over it, smearing it down the length of your cock, and you couldn’t hold back the broken sound that escaped your throat. he gripped your cock at the base, his hand firm and unyielding as he guided it toward his lips.

the first touch of his mouth was almost too much. his tongue flicked out, teasing the tip, before he took you in slowly, inch by maddening inch. the heat of his mouth was overwhelming, soft and wet and perfect, and your hands clenched the sheets in a futile attempt to ground yourself. “ben—” you choked out, your voice cracking as your head fell back against the pillow.

he hummed around you, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. his eyes flicked up to meet yours, sharp and teasing, as he took you deeper, his throat constricting around you in a way that made your vision blur. “relax,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to speak. his lips were slick and red, glistening with saliva and precum. “let me take care of you, sweetheart. just let go.”

you wanted to. God, you wanted to. guilt clawed at your chest, sharp and suffocating, as your mind flickered with memories of whispered sermons and fire-and-brimstone warnings. this was wrong. every touch, every flick of his tongue, every obscene sound he made was a nail in the coffin of your soul. but benjamin’s mouth was so hot, so wet, and his hands gripped your hips with a strength that kept you grounded, kept you present. “you’re thinking too much,” benjamin said, his voice low and commanding. “stop fighting it. just let me make you feel good.”

he didn’t give you a chance to argue, his mouth enveloping you again with a renewed determination. his hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he worked you over, his pace slow and deliberate, savoring every moment. you barely lasted a minute. the pressure built too quickly, the heat coiling tight in your stomach and shooting down your spine. your breaths came faster, shallow and desperate, and you tried to warn him, tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let you.

“don’t you dare,” he murmured, his voice muffled around you. “i want it. cum for me.” the command was your undoing. with a choked cry, you shattered, your hips jerking as you spilled into his mouth. stars burst behind your eyes, your entire body trembling as the release hit you like a tidal wave. benjamin didn’t pull back, didn’t flinch. he took everything you gave him, his throat working to swallow it down, his hands steady on your thighs as he held you through the aftershocks.

when he finally pulled away, his lips were swollen, his smirk impossibly smug as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “damn,” he said, his tone full of mockery and amusement. “came so fast i barely got started. guess all that religious repression really does a number on you, huh?” you buried your face in your hands, your cheeks burning as fresh waves of shame crashed over you. But benjamin wasn’t done.

benjamin didn’t hesitate, tugging his sweats down in one smooth motion. the sight hit you like a punch to the gut. he was hard—thick, flushed, and straining against the fabric of the underwear you’d stolen just last night. your stomach churned when you noticed the faint, crusted stain near the waistband, the humiliating evidence of your lack of control.

“unbelievable,” benjamin said, his lips curling in disgusted amusement as he ran a hand over the bulge. “you actually came in my underwear.” he let out a short, derisive laugh, holding the elastic band out so you could see the stain more clearly. “for this?” He shook his head, the smirk tugging at his lips making your stomach flip. heat rose to your face, shame and arousal twisting together into a nauseating cocktail. you tried to look away, but your body betrayed you again, your cock twitching faintly despite the raw, overstimulated ache still pulsing through you.

“oh, no,” ben said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, low timbre. “don’t you dare act embarrassed now. not after everything.” His green eyes locked onto yours, sharp and unyielding. “you’re into this, aren’t you?” you shook your head weakly, your voice caught in your throat, but benjamin wasn’t buying it. “liar,” he sing-songs, his tone dripping with regalement. “you act like such a good little saint, all those prayers, all that piety—s’just a cover for the filthy little pervert hiding underneath.” before you could muster a response, Benjamin grabbed your sweats and yanked them the rest of the way down, leaving you completely bare beneath him. his gaze swept over you, predatory and hungry, and your stomach flipped at the way his lips curled into a smirk. “you’re hard again,” he pointed out, his voice thick with amusement. “didn’t even give yourself a minute to recover, huh? you really are desperate.”

benjamin stepped back just enough to hook his thumbs into the waistband of the said stolen (and stained) underwear, dragging them down his legs with an exaggerated slowness that had your pulse hammering in your ears. when his cock sprang free, flushed and leaking, your breath caught. “Jesus Christ,” you muttered without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

“close,” benjamin quipped, his grin widening into something wicked. “but i don’t think He’s gonna save you now.” he wrapped a hand around himself, his thumb swiping over the head to gather the bead of precum there. his gaze flicked to you, his smirk deepening when he saw the way your eyes lingered.

“guess i can’t blame you for wanting me so bad,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “look at what you’ve done to me.” he gestured vaguely to his cock, his hand stroking slowly, deliberately, as if to taunt you further. the heat of his body was overwhelming as he climbed onto the bed, his knees pressing into the mattress on either side of your thighs. the heat of his body was overwhelming, his cock hovering just above yours, so close you could feel the faint pulse of it. the sight of him straddling you, his lips twisted into that infuriating smirk, was enough to make your breath hitch.

“i should make you clean up your mess,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, sending a shiver down your spine. “wouldn’t that be fair?” you swallowed hard, unable to respond. your mouth was dry, your mind spinning, every nerve in your body alight with tension. “but,” he continued, leaning down until his face was only inches from yours, “i think i’ve got a better idea.”

before you could process what was happening, benjamin reached down, his hand wrapping around your cock again. his grip was firm and confident, his thumb brushing over the sensitive head in a way that made your hips jerk involuntarily. then, to your absolute shock, he shifted, pressing his cock against yours. the heat of him, the weight of him—thick and pulsing beside you—sent a bolt of arousal shooting through you so intense it made your vision blur. benjamin hummed, clearly enjoying your reaction, as he wrapped his hand around both of you, his fingers curling tightly to hold you together.

“fuck,” he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice low and strained as he began to move. his hand stroked the length of both of you in a slow, maddening rhythm, the friction electric. the slick mix of precum made the slide effortless, each stroke sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

your head fell back against the pillow, a choked sound escaping your throat as the pleasure built quickly, overwhelming you. benjamin’s gaze stayed locked on your face, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he took in every twitch of your features, every broken gasp that slipped past your lips. “look at you,” he murmured, his tone thick with mockery. “so fucking desperate. you’re not even trying to hold back, are you? just letting me ruin you completely.

you tried to shake your head, to deny it, but the words caught in your throat, tangled up in a mess of shame and arousal. your hips bucked helplessly into his hand, chasing the friction despite the raw ache of overstimulation. “s’not true,” you choked out, your voice weak and trembling.

ben laughed, low and derisive. “no? then why are you fucking into my hand like a goddamn slut?” his words cut deep, but the pleasure was overwhelming, drowning out everything else. the tension coiled tight in your stomach, building faster than you could control. benjamin’s grip tightened, his strokes growing firmer, rougher, as if he could sense how close you were. “pathetic,” benjamin said, his voice a low, teasing growl. “you’re gonna cum already, aren’t you? can feel it—feel how close you are.” he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “do it. make a fucking mess. show me how much you need this.”

his words pushed you over the edge. with a low groan, your body tensed, your release hitting you like a tidal wave. hot, sticky ropes spilled across your stomach and benjamin’s hand, the sensation so intense it left you trembling beneath him.

but he didn’t stop, his hand stroking both of you through the aftershocks, drawing out every last ounce of your pleasure. his own breathing grew heavier, his pace quickening as he chased his own release. “fuck,” he muttered, his voice tight as his hips jerked forward. a moment later, he came, his cum mixing with yours in a sticky mess across your stomach and his hand.

for a long moment, the only sound in the room was the sound of your ragged breathing. benjamin sat back slightly, his chest heaving as he looked down at the mess between you. “well,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “guess you weren’t the only one who couldn’t hold back.” you groaned, your cheeks burning as you turned your face away, but benjamin only laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to your jaw. “don’t worry,” he murmured. “i think it’s cute.”

[voxisdaddy]

Collection of Pleasure

Hazbin Hotel NSFW Headcanons…

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairings: Alastor | Lucifer | Vox | Valentino | Velvette | Charlie | Vaggie | Cherri Bomb | Rosie | Carmilla | Adam | Lute | Emily | Saint Peter

C/TW: 18+, NSFW, MDNI, reader written as fem, cussing, various kinks, collection of a few subs x dom!reader, mainly the ladies are domming/topping lol, not proofread, some are bad im sorry, carmilla has two though bc its carmilla

In which in at least one NSFW headcanon for each character...

My personal NSFW headcanon for several Hazbin Hotel characters. This includes some of the main cast, the Vee’s, the angels, and some of the other characters ♥︎

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Alastor likes being the predator chasing his prey during his rut...

Sex with Alastor is pretty rare, happens occasionally but usually it's for special occasions like an anniversary. His ruts however? His favourite thing to do (aside from you) is have you run around the forest in his room while he hunts for you in his demon form. He can very easily catch you but he likes to let it play out before he pounces on you for like, two weeks. Goodluck lol

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lucifer is an insatiable beast...

When he started crying and was quivering so bad one night, you thought that enough was enough and climbed off of him only for his hips to desperately follow you, thrusting into nothing. Despite his tears from the overstimulation you've given him for several rounds by then, he looked at you with teary eyes and begged you to not stop. A safe word was set in place because of that, so you made sure when to stop when he genuinely wanted you to stop. But despite how teary eyed he gets or how much he begs, he never uses it.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox likes to watch himself...

"Oh you mean like in front of a mirror?" NO. Well yes but actually he loves getting it on with you in his office because all his monitors will showcase how well you're either riding his dick or fucking his ass with a strap. A few monitors will display his weeping face though thanks to you. He thinks it's humiliating and will try and change them to literally anything else but he can't exactly focus on anything when he's so lost in pleasure. So his weeping face and him getting railed it is. It's like he's your own porn star. This porn star whimpers "mommy" too so have fun with that.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino is capable of getting fucked dumb...

I know it might be hard to believe with him, but it is possible and it's why he's so obsessed with you. He's very experienced in sex, obviously; doming, subbing, top, bottom, doesn't matter. It's all good. The way you can somehow fuck him so good and bring him to so much overstimulation that all he can do babble incoherently? Mans is down bad for you and grows more romantically attached to you than he thinks. Often times the night after a particularly passionate and heated session, he heads to the studio with a slight limp in his step. The first time people saw him limping like that paired with his surprisingly decent mood that day, they knew; oh you're fucking good.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Velvette is a pillow princess...

I 100% see her as a dom, and she very well can dom, but she's selfish and wants all the pleasure with minimal work. With the way she acted, especially when it comes to teasing you, it really through you in a loop when you got to bed that evening. Okay so you're topping-no big deal. The real surprise was when you found out she didn't wanna do anything to help you get off. Oh well. Sitting on her face and using a vibrator against her clit is motivational enough for her to pleasure you too.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Charlie has a little bit of an exhibitionist kink...

a little bit. Kind of? Okay but you know the large window in her room we see her by in episode 1? Has rode your strap and/or fucked you with a strap right in front of that baby. Granted it's pretty high so not like anyone can easily look in anyways but it's still just not private enough that it does something to her. If she's ever potentially really ticked off sometimes she'll eat pussy aggressively while you're pressed, bare tits and all, against the glass.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vaggie likes titi's...

Whether your big breasted or sporting itty bitties, her hands immediately go to fondle them during heated make out sessions. She's kinda shy in the bedroom so don't take her boldness to grope your chest as her being dominant-she just can't help herself from groping you. Sometimes after sex she'll kiss your chest. Depending on where she kisses and if she'd biting or not, it may lead to another round.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Cherri Bomb is the only person who can rival Lucifer over…

Eating pussy. Whether your sitting on her face or her head is buried between your plush thighs, my girl loves to eat. And she eats like her life depends on it. Even when you think she may need a breather and try to move she’s very quick in pulling you back and keeps you there firmly, often smirking when you’re overstimulated and squirming.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Rosie loves thighs...

Call her old fashioned (cuz she is) but seeing your exposed thighs just does something to her. I mean how scandalous! She spends a majority of her time in Cannibal Town which is trapped in the 1910's. Everyone is dressed in only the most stylish and modest clothing from that time period. So if you ever come strutting about, publicly or privately, in a little something that exposes more of your figure and especially your thighs, expect to have dozens of hickeys decorating your inner thighs by the next day.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Carmilla always says she has no favourite sex position but she does...

it's 69. She prefers to be at bottom since it makes it easier for her to finger you while simultaneously assaulting your clit with her tongue. And of course while you're down there she likes to keep you trapped with her thighs. Because i mean look at them thighs!!! MMHHMMM!!! I see her leaning more towards dom so like, if you're able to focus on eating her out without getting distracted as little as possible then she'll reward you good.

I have two for Carmilla that I desperately want to share so here's my second one; she loves having you keep her strap warm while she does paperwork. Just you sittin pretty on her big plastic dick, occasionally gripping your thigh when you squirm too much. Will play with your clit if you're being needy-try not to squirm too much though or else you ain't getting anything once she'd done her work for the day.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Adam secretly cherishes your more intimate sex...

As much as a dick (master) this guy is, he definitely has his vulnerable side. During some make up sex after an argument and temporary separation that could have very easily lead to your guys break up, he found himself unusually emotional as he was balls deep in ya. He didn't cry, as if he'd allow himself to do that especially at a time like sex, but he felt it. The pull at his heart strings, the relief that washed over him that you two were still together, the way your lips uttered his name like a prayer., It was a surprise to him and one he'll never forget.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lute cums surprisingly fast via fingering...

You found this out when opting to use your fingers to do the job over the dildo, strap, and vibrator. She already knew she came fast via fingering but didn't want anyone to know that-she came almost embarrassingly fast and it sometimes felt like it wouldn't stop. This hit her ego a little bit considering that she's stubborn as all hell but she could barely defend herself when she kept cumming around your fingers. Safe to say you had quite a lot to lap up that night.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Emily gets wet easily...

is it really that surprising? You found this out when you were kissing at her neck and reached down to her uplifted dress and felt that slick wet feeling between her legs. She was very flustered and even more when you teased her for getting this wet over a few neck kisses-there was only one hickey (so far).

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Saint Peter has a thing for light bondage...

Nothing hard obviously but his wrists being bound together or to the bed via rope or handcuffs gets him going. It puts him in a position where he's completely at your mercy. Blindfolding him is on the table as well-his other senses are heightened as fuck making him react more enthusiastically to your touches and whispers. Even though he's into it it's also a double edges sword cuz this guy needs to touch you and not even being allowed to look at you either has him whining.

This has been in my drafts for weeks lol some of these aren't to my personal standards but I was really running out ideas that were both fitting to the character and weren't too basic/a repeat of another's. I didn't wanna exclude some people from my original roster so I toughed it out lol

sometimes my posts get shadowbanned for literally no reason and at random so it would mean the world if you reblogged this thank you <3 no pressure tho!

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I think Crowley falls into two of the classic pitfalls of people who see that the problems are systemic long before anyone else around them does: impatience and despair.

(Yes yes I know, “Crowley was an optimist.” Book Crowley is an optimist. I don’t think that line is particularly useful for analyzing TV Crowley. Stay with me here.)

Let it be said that 95% of the time, Crowley has the patience of a fucking saint (ssh don’t tell him) around Aziraphale. He knows that Aziraphale needs to build his little plausible deniability rationales in order to do something that they both know he wants to do (because it’s right or simply because he would enjoy it) but Heaven wouldn’t approve of. And most of the time, Crowley is happy to help Aziraphale get there, asking the questions Aziraphale is afraid to ask, offering excuses and justifications until Aziraphale finds one he can accept. He does a lot of work of parsing out when “no” means “you haven’t convinced me yet, keep trying” and pushing through all the “I’m an angel, you’re a demon, we’re on opposite sides and mine is the good one” talk that Aziraphale gets up to all the way through s1. Because he knows that Aziraphale doesn’t really believe that stuff, right? He just needs some time to talk himself around his own cognitive dissonance, and most of the time Crowley is not only happy to facilitate that but sees it as part of his role in their relationship.

But then when the chips are down and Aziraphale is still dithering, that’s when he gets frustrated, because HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE what’s been blindingly obvious to Crowley for millennia, that Heaven is just as cruel as Hell and no one is going to step in and fix it because the system is working as intended. And that’s when he says things like “how can someone as clever as you be so stupid?” Which is a surefire way not to convince the person you’re arguing with of anything.

And then there’s the despair. I really think the running away thing is not about cowardice or selfishness or some kind of unhealthy level of avoidance of hard or scary things, but about hopelessness. They’ve spent their lives avoiding very very real danger, and of the two of them Crowley is much more constantly aware of the danger that they are in from both sides. Yes he’s hypervigilant but he is also almost always right about the amount of danger they are in. Trying to get as far away from danger as possible is not an irrational response, even if it’s not always the correct one for a given situation.

When you feel like you’re the only person who sees how rotten the system is, how it needs to be dismantled entirely, but you are also VERY aware of how strong the people in power are and how ruthless they are about crushing dissent because you experienced it personally…well that gets fucking depressing after a while. Because even if you think the whole system needs to go, that feels like a completely unattainable goal when it seems like no one else even sees the problem, or if they see it, they are too afraid to do anything about it. And can you blame them? You know exactly what happens to people who speak up.

So it’s very easy for your goals to shrink from systemic change to just taking yourself and the people you love and finding somewhere for them to be as safe as possible, for as long as the system will let you exist. Because reforming the system is a fool’s errand, and dismantling it entirely seems impossible. I think this is where Crowley is at. Even if on some level he knows it’s an imperfect solution, because both of them have enough compassion that they would feel guilty abandoning Earth and humans to save themselves, and because Heaven and Hell really can find them anywhere in the universe. He just doesn’t see another option.

And look, I think Aziraphale is 100% wrong that Heaven can be reformed. But he is not wrong to want to stay and fight to make things better, even if it means sacrificing the Earthly comforts he loves so much, and even if it means doing it without Crowley by his side.

Ultimately they both need each other. Aziraphale needs Crowley for his willingness to ask questions and to see the scale of the problem, even if it’s terrifying. But Crowley needs Aziraphale for his hope, his stubborn determination to believe things can and should be better, and to fight for that. In the right hands, hope is an enormously powerful weapon.

[quarterlifekitty]

🚪🧍‍♀️ how can a real one get your thoughts on ghost with a gf who is under going some changes and strange behaviors due to lycanthropy 🤲

like, as you write Simon (which btw, I'm kinda new here but I have latched onto your fics like a cold and hungry, wet stray kitten would with some warm milk and a blanket. i LOVE ur writing) I'm imagining you've been together for maybe 5ish months now, which any other person would see their gf of 5 months turn into a werewolf they would just cut their losses but not ghost. he's in this for life (and lycanthropy)

—🦣 (bc I expect that I will be here in your inbox quite frequently)

Come suckle from my teat like I’m a mother hog

I mean. Thanks. For the kind words.

For the purposes of this ask, I’m going to interpret reader as the “big wolf” type of werewolf, like damao from all saints street. I am choosing to go with this instead of the horrifying bone crunching screaming agony American werewolf in London version. Sorry if that’s the one you wanted lol.

When Simon finds out that you’re a werewolf, he’s a little ashamed that his gut reaction is that this is such a win for him.

He’s always wanted a dog, ever since he was a kid. He still gets excited when he sees stray dogs. But these days he’s not home enough to have one, and even if he was, he’s too depressed to trust himself with the care of an animal.

So now it’s like he has a dog that can take care of itself! And it’s his girlfriend!

You would have to waterboard him to get him to admit to that reaction, by the way. He’s taking that to the grave.

As for your relationship… he kind of treats your transformation like it’s your period. It’s pretty similar. Once a month you get a little moody, get some strange cravings, shut yourself in a little more than usual. So he goes shopping, gets your favorite snacks (raw meat and jerky), and whips out the lint roller (your fur is no joke).

By the way, if you’re ever shopping or watching tv and see some stupid product designed for dogs, Simon’ll be like “do you think we could use th—“ and you’re like “we’re not fucking buying that to use on me.”

It’s true what you say about Ghost being ride or die once he decides he likes someone. In his opinion, there are way worse things you could be than a lycanthrope. For example, you could be in the military. Ha! Just a little classic Ghost humor. He laughs, that’s what matters. He’ll be here all week.