#his parents got divorced. His mother found a new man

[rinniessance]

DADDY'S FAVORITE GIRL ༊*·˚ - step dad!gojo x fem!reader

going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to in the summer is a new step-dad. and you do not like the dangerous glint in his eyes every time he looks at you.

꒰ warnings: nsfw - dark content - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. step dad!gojo, stepcest, age difference (reader is implied to be 21, gojo is in his late 30s), dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, heavy daddy kink, so many pet names (babygirl, pretty, doll, princess etc.), slight dacraphyllia, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption kink. plot is kinda messy 'cause i was rushing to get to the smut, sowwy ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.1k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am freely being my most disgusting self, thank you for supporting my little insane brain .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱

going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to during summer break is a new step-dad. ever since your parents divorced when you were 14, your mom has been single – your teenage years, she dedicated herself to you, protecting you from your scumbag father, focusing on your future. you even agreed to delay your college admittance until you were 20, taking two gap years after your high school to stay at your hometown with her. your mom has the worst case of separation anxiety – which is why maybe you should’ve been more concerned when she gradually stopped texting you as the days went on. you assumed the best – maybe she found a hobby, maybe she reconnected with old friends, maybe she finally realized you are an adult and stopped babying you every waking moment. what you did not expect is for her to get married.

these are the thoughts running through you head as you stand in the middle of your living room, fresh out the airport, gawking at the man sleeping on the couch, and wonder how the fuck that happened. you would’ve honestly screamed and thought this was a squatter, or a robber, if not for all the wedding pictures obnoxiously decorating almost every available surface (god, how many photos do you need?). you try not to think too much about it – the flight was 6 hours, you barely got any sleep sitting to the smelliest man on the planet, and you just want to take a shower and go to bed. just as you start walking off, the front door swings open.

“oh my god, sweetheart, you’re home!” your mom’s voice booms through the quiet room resonating like a thunderclap in the middle of a still field. she runs to you, immediately pulling you into a hug which you happily return. you’re genuinely delighted to see her, albeit feeling a little weirded out by a man she decided to bring home. your mother looks over to the couch, man’s sleeping figure not moving once, and sighs with exasperation. “i assume he didn’t pick you up?”

“no but it’s okay…” you whisper quietly and gesture towards the figure on the couch with your head, “about that, though…”

“yeah, honey, i know, i am sorry i didn’t tell you. everything has been happening so quickly, i haven’t even had time to process it myself!” she squealed like a school girl. “his name is satoru gojo and we met at the charity event i went to six months ago.”

“since when do you attend charity events?” you ask, quirking the brow upwards.

“oh, i didn’t know what to do with myself ever since you moved out so i’ve been trying anything and everything. and look, the results have been phenomenal!” she giggled, frustration she had towards her husband about not picking you up melting away in front of your eyes. god, he really had her wrapped around his finger.

“okay, well, i am kind of tired so i wanted to go to bed. is it okay if we talk about this tomorrow?”

your mom suddenly looks down at her feet, a little embarrassed. what did she do.

“yes, about that… that room was sitting unutilized the whole time you were away so satoru and i thought it would be a good idea to remake it into a home office, kind of. your bed is still in there though! so you can sleep in the room no problem.”

“mom, what the fuck…” you whine. not only your room with all your memories and all your personality was gone and demolished, you now have to sleep in the room that was most likely used by him. “home office” my ass, you thought – your mom would not need it in a million years, and by the way she’s avoiding your gaze in shame, it was definitely not her idea.

“i’m sorry baby, but you’ve been away and…”

you interrupt her with a wave of your hand.

“whatever, i’m too tired to think about it. i’ll take a shower and go to bed, i don’t wanna deal with him until tomorrow,” you sigh with frustration and walk off into your home office, dropping your things on the floor.

what you don’t see as you walk off is the dangerous glint in satoru’s eyes as he listens to every bits of your conversation. you said the last sentence with so much poison, he thinks it might’ve struck him dead. gojo knows it will be difficult to get on your good side now but he likes to play these games on hard mode.

oh, you will be so much fun to break.

gojo satoru is a patient man – when he really wants something, he is content to wait until he gets it. that being the main reason why he approaches you slowly. it’s the next day after you arrive that he has a chance to introduce himself properly.

you leave the room after having the best night’s sleep – you really didn’t mind waking up in the office today, you must’ve been too tired to think straight and threw a fit yesterday. you make a mental note to apologize to your mom later. as you turn into the kitchen, you’re met with the view you wish did not have such a strong effect on you – your step-dad, freshly out of the shower, grey sweatpants low riding on his hips, is preparing what seems to be breakfast.

you’re so fucked.

you try to shake off the feeling of arousal washing over you. you may not have had a chance to have any sexual experiences yet, but you’re not that much of a virgin not to know when you’re feeling horny. you just wish it wasn’t due to the incredibly hot step-dad. the left-over frustration from previous night bubbles up like over spilled champagne and you decide to keep your distance. anger helps you keep yourself grounded, and you maneuver around the man to make breakfast, but you see that he prepared it for you already.

“oh, thank you,” you say quietly as he extends the plate to you.

“you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

the nickname sends a shiver down your spine.

gojo turns to face you and gives you his breathtaking smile. you want to choke on your toast.

“i wanted to apologize for not picking you up yesterday. your mom told me so much about you, and i was excited to meet her ‘favorite girl’,” his eyes spark with a dangerous glint at the nickname, making you shrink into yourself, “but my work held me up, and then i think i went for a quick nap and… uh… ended up falling asleep,” he says with a light chuckle.

“that’s okay, i didn’t really mind the train ride,” you respond with visible discomfort,

he now stands next to you by the counter, his body heat palpable, melting over you like a scorching son. gojo’s all-teeth smile is gorgeous, frustratingly enough, but it makes your skin crawl: like a prey walking into the carefully designed trap, you can feel your gut asking you to run. it makes sense your mom fell for him so easily.

“will you let me make up for it? let’s go our for a dinner, i’m sure your mom would be delighted to hear we’re trying to get along.”

“i don’t know, i haven’t seen my friends in some time, i think i’ll be hanging out with them for a while,” you shuffle from leg to leg, trying to move away

“that’s okay, we have a whole summer ahead.”

for some reason it felt more like a threat than a promise.

you smile politely back, not knowing what to say, rushing to finish your breakfast. the image of your step-dad, half-naked in your family kitchen talking to you about his plans with you for the whole summer should be weird – it’s difficult to find it weird when the said step-dad is criminally hot, unfortunately.

“i think i’ll go now, thanks for the breakfast,” gojo’s gives you a smile so sweet, it somehow triggers a toothache, and waves you off. since yesterday, he’s been making you feel extremely on edge for no apparent reason, it’s driving you a little insane.

when you come back home that evening, you are greeted by both your mom and satoru with the dinner ready. she babbles about how great of a cook he is, and that she can’t wait until you try it. you politely decline citing that you’re full and quickly leave for your room – satoru’s blue eyes were looking at you with almost an animalistic stare, and you hated that you liked it.

gojo thought things were going well with you – he’s given you the space you need in the first two weeks after you arrived. your mom was overjoyed seeing how deeply satoru already cared about you – making sure you eat in the morning, not letting you go to bed without a meal, always checking on you throughout the day, keeping you safe. you, however, thought it was… weird, if anything, that he was all around you this intensely.

“oh, honey, that’s just how he shows that he cares. he was like that with me as well,” your mom tells you one of the nights when you bring it up. it worries you how easily she takes his side now and wonder if something else is going on.

satoru picks you up when you stay out too late, to the wee hour of the night when the subways stop running; he makes sure you have your nights with your mom, when he doesn’t intrude on your backyard conversations and only adores you pretty features from his second-floor window; he learns what movies and music and tv you like, trying to decipher the person that is you.

he’s been putting all this effort to get to know your every step – then why the fuck does he find you one night you kissing some random boy on your driveway?

you said you were going out today and no pickup was needed – now it makes sense why.

gojo satoru is a patient man. but even his patience can start running thin, trickling like water through cracks in the fingers. hourglass of his kindness has been half full for a while now – it’s about time the sand runs out.

you think a boy like him can give you what satoru can? just you wait and see.

kitchen is uncharacteristically quiet when you walk in. it’s the next morning, and usually by now, satoru would be making breakfast for you. his job is still unknown – you are not sure if he was suddenly called in but the feeling of happy solitude falls over you, even if for a moment.

your mom is gone at least for two weeks for work, you’re dreading the moment you have to be left alone with your step-dad. the look in his eyes yesterday was dangerous, a predator appraising its victim before sinking its teeth in, and you’re happy megumi was able to leave quickly after walking you home. surprisingly, gojo didn’t say you a word when you walked into the house, silently sitting in front of the tv like he didn’t just spy through the window on your kiss with the boy.

air in the room was heavy with tension – you knew satoru was avoiding looking your way, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. instinctively, you wanted to break the silence, say something to discharge the electricity jumping through the atoms of your stuffy living room air, but ultimately decided against it. you have nothing to say to a man, and it’s not like you needed to justify your actions in front of him anyways. you quickly retreated into the office and avoided him until you fell asleep.

when you woke up to an empty apartment not even fifteen minutes ago, you felt relief. walking into the kitchen and confirming your presence alone, you even felt happy. then what is this weird feeling, almost as if you are missing something, nagging at you? you thought of going out today but now a strange desire to stay at home washes over.

you make breakfast for the first time since you came home (gojo didn’t skip a single day, you have no idea how he kept up with that), and you chastise yourself for feeling weird about cooking for yourself; and you chastise yourself again when your mind lingers on the thoughts of a certain white-haired man; and again when you look at your phone, convincing yourself it’s a bad idea to text him. god, you feel so stupid. didn’t you want him to stop being so unsettlingly sweet and dotting around you all the time?

conflicted by your irrationality once again, you frustratingly take your plate and sit down on the couch. flipping through the netlifx previews, you land on something to distract your mind by. you settle on some true crime documentary and let the horrors on the screen consume you, abandoning for a moment the thoughts plaguing your head.

you’ve been glued to the screen for at least two hours before you heard the jiggle of the keys. like an eager puppy, you waited for gojo to come inside and greet you like he would every day – only for him to completely ignore your presence, beelining straight for the kitchen. turning your head back to the tv, you try your best not to pay any attention to the uncharacteristic behavior from satoru’s end.

“i will be in the home office the whole day, don’t enter.”

before you can respond anything back, your step-dad is already walking off without sparing you a second glance. is he still upset from yesterday? you didn’t think kissing megumi would be that much of a deal. your nervously play with the hem of the blanket, show playing on tv long forgotten, contemplating what you should do next. why are you bothered by his silence this much anyways?

rethinking your earlier choice, you send a quick text to your friend asking to meet you for drinks. maybe right now gojo needs space, or whatever, and leaving him alone is the best next thing right now. you knock at the door of the home office.

“sorry, i am going out now and need to quickly change.”

not even 5 seconds pass before the door is swung open by a man that’s been occupying too much of your mental space today.

“be quick,” is the only response you get before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. you’re perplexed by this sudden change in behavior yet again. throwing on the first decent outfit you can find, you let gojo know that you’re done and will be home later; hum is the only acknowledgment you get before he disappears in the office.

exiling all the thoughts of satoru gojo from your head, you leave your house, hoping tomorrow will put all the pieces of the puzzle back together.

yet the next day comes, and you still wake up to no warmth from satoru – it felt as if he built a wall between the two of you in one night’s span, impossible to be breached. should you talk to him? should you apologize? and apologize for what? you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? ignoring the gnawing feeling inside once more, you retreat to the living room, sulking on the couch until the end of the day, clawing onto the hope gojo of tomorrow will acknowledge your existence.

“did i do something wrong?”

you stand in the doorway to gojo’s office, arms crossed over your chest. he lazily turns his head your way as if giving you even a second of his time is too much of a bother – the look he sends you is burning through your core, making you pathetically weak and wet.

“no,” he starts slowly, “do you think you did something wrong?”

“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking. you’ve been ignoring me for the past week, and it’s getting weird.”

“i thought i’d leave you alone, it seems you’re capable of having fun on your own.”

satoru is looking back to his screen now, and you scrunch your eyebrows, frustrated by the riddles he’s throwing your way. walking inside the room, your close the door on instinct and take wide steps to stand in front of him.

“stop answering me like this, we’re not playing a charade. what do you mean?” the demand in your voice is clear, and it twists something inside satoru – his gaze falls on you again yet this time it’s dark, taunting, dangerous, with a hint of chaos. it scares and excites you.

gojo suddenly stands up, and pushes you into his desk until you’re sitting on it. he is tall – your mom basically married a giant – and you try to curl into yourself to escape his malicious eyes.

“what, i thought you wanted me to leave your alone? you want my attention now all of a sudden?” he respond with the question of his own in a mocking tone.

“i never said i wanted you to ignore me…” you answer meekly, yelping slightly as your back hits his desk – you suddenly realize there is nowhere to run now.

“really? we’ve been together in a house for almost a month now, and yet you showed no interest in getting to know me.”

“’m sorry…” you cannot think of anything else to say. gojo moves even closer, and is now towering over you – it makes you embarrassingly horny.

“show me how sorry you are.”

before you can respond, he is caging your body with his and capturing your lips in a kiss, and you freeze – all of this is so wrong, you cannot bring yourself to start moving your mouth against his. gojo’s tongue coerces its way inside, exploring the undiscovered paths, his teeth biting your still lips. closing your eyes, you whimper and try to push him away but he only catches your wrists with his one hand, while the other plays with the hem of your shorts. a gasp escapes your lips, and you push yourself further into the desk, squirming under gojo’s body.

“what, you don’t like it? i thought my little girl wanted daddy’s attention?” he torments you, voice condescending and thick with mockery. all you can muster is a pathetic mewl, words lost somewhere inside your throat, and dig your fingers into the edge of your desk as your step-dad forces his digits inside your panties, lightly brushing against your clit.

“god, you’re already so wet, so filthy,” he whispers between the heated kisses as the pads of his fingers keep teasing your pussy. “tell me, babygirl, are you still a virgin? gotta know how to treat you.”

“y-yes…”

“well, am i just not the luckiest?” gojo chuckles darkly, spreading your legs with his thigh. unoccupied hand goes to grip your hip while the fingers on the other are still working your clit, sliding the digits between your puffy lips, teasing your hole. every time he circles around the entrance and mocks by pushing his finger just slightly inside, the moan builds up in your throat, and you’re too embarrassed to let it out.

“common, baby, your daddy wants to hear you, don’t hide your pretty voice from me.”

gojo is infuriatingly good with his fingers – you could never bring yourself this much pleasure from playing with your clit, and your defiance starts melting away as you find yourself bucking your hips into his hand, whining pitifully. the man completely removes your shorts and underwear, shoving the latter into his pocket – something to remember this moment by.

“god, such a pretty pussy, i can’t believe you’ve been hiding it from me. take off your shirt so i can see all of you, princess.”

immense desire pools between your legs, hunger and lust evident in satoru’s cerulean eyes, now hidden by dilated pupils, and you’re surrendering yourself to him – want makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong. you remove the top, nipples perked and waiting. gojo looks at you in wonder and disbelief – all of that for him? his hand went to squeeze your boob almost on an instinct, rolling the nipple between the pads of his fingers, while sucking on another with his mouth. you drop your head back, losing yourself to the intense pleasure your step-dad’s giving you. seeing as you’re distracted by him playing with your tits, he takes this as his chance to shove two of his fingers inside.

a strangled moan leaves your lips, your hands gripping man’s shoulders.

“ahhh, that hurts, satoru.”

“nah-uh, that’s not what i want to hear you calling me,” he straightens himself and starts scissoring you with his digits. the initial intrusion is painful, you can feel your virgin walls stretching to accommodate for how he’s dragging the fingers in and out, yet the burn is woefully delightful, and you’re getting lost again.

“’m sorry daddy.”

gojo only chuckles – god, you were easier than he expected, so well-behaved and pliable under him.

“that’s right, let daddy take good care of you.”

he speeds up the pace, curling his slender, pretty fingers, brushing the spots you were never able to reach with your own. wet, soggy sounds fill the entirety of the room, air already stuffy with smell of sex as he continues to finger-fuck your pussy. gojo could feel his cock twitching in his pants, he wanted to take you right there and then, but he was determined to make you cum on his digits first – it prompts him to attach his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot below your jawline, marking you as his.

your mewling turns louder, breathing is getting labored, and it seems your hips have a mind of their own now as they are bucking into satoru’s movements, fucking yourself how you need it. something akin to orgasm starts building up in your tummy – it has never felt this all-consuming, you wonder if you’ve been touching yourself wrong all this time.

“daddy, please don’t – ah! – stop,” is everything you can say in a measly attempt to ask him to speed up. his thumb finds your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves, and picks up the pace, cunt now clenching even tighter around his two fingers, and gojo groans thinking how you’d feel around his aching dick. he adds a third finger – it’s angled so perfectly assault your special spongy spot, it turns your brain into a mush.

gojo pinches your nipple, kissing you to swallow all the lewd moans to himself.

“is my princess close?”

“yes daddy, ‘m so close.”

“common, cum all over my fingers, baby.”

these words finally push you over the edge – your climax washes over you like a cold morning shower, leaving you trembling in gojo’s hold. your legs are trying to close to stop the man from continuing his abuse on your twitching pussy but he is too lost in the feeling of your walls constricting around his fingers to allow you to do that. he fucks you through your orgasm, bringing you to the realm of overstimulation.

“ahh, daddy, please, it hurts now,” you whine with teary voice, beads of salty water gathering in the corners of your eyes.

“shhhh, daddy knows best, yeah? let me feel you a little longer.”

gojo keeps his pace until you’re clawing at his arm, trying to pull away your pussy from his fingers. he grabs you by the back of your head, bruising your lips with the intensity of his kiss – you’re sure he draws blood by how he bites your lower lip, licking the messy aftermath. you’re still whining and mewling, trails of tears finally flowing down your face, and he’s sure he’s never seen anything hotter as he licks the salty tracks.

“you’ve done so good, babygirl, i think you’re ready for the main gift,” satoru says and finally withdraws his fingers. the emptiness is welcoming yet disappointing, and you groan. gojo quickly unbuckles his pants and shoves them down, alongside his boxer briefs, and you almost choke on your spit when you see how well-endowed he is. you don’t have a lot to compare it to but you think his cock is beautiful – it's long and slender, and uncut, prominent vein running all the way from the base to just underside of his head, and you get an immeasurable desire to run your tongue along it.

“is my pretty doll drooling jus’ at the sight of my dick?” he mockingly asks you, making you turn your gaze away. gojo chuckles again, and grabs you by your chin, pulling your head down.

“no looking away, darling, i want you to see how i take your virginity.”

with no other option, you keep your gaze peeled downwards, to where gojo strokes himself couple of times before lining himself up with your leaking hole. despite all the preparation and your previous orgasm, you’re still incredibly tight and satoru groans as he starts pushing himself inside. you can see his smooth cockhead bullying his way into you, stretching your greedy walls – man feels you pulsating around him, and that makes him twitch.

“fuck, princess, you’re so tight, feels so good.”

gojo finally sinks all the way in, your cervix being met in a kiss by a swollen tip, and you moan, sound almost pornographic. your step-dad doesn’t let you adjust before he pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in – he doesn’t go easy on you for your first time, setting up a brutal pace, not caring if you’re ready to take him fully yet. it stings, and you have to hold yourself on gojo’s shoulder’s as he starts fucking into you. his hands are on your hips, guiding them to meet his thrusts.

“daddy please, ‘ts too much,” you cry out but satoru is all too lost in how your gummy walls perfectly hug his swollen cock. he doesn’t respond, shutting you up by forcing his tongue into his mouth yet again, sucking on every piece of available flesh. slowly, the tension in your body melts away and gives way to a new kind of pressure – the one building up in your tummy. you’re shocked at how fast your body is able to start getting on the road to blissful ecstasy again but you’re not complaining.

“shit, are you getting close already, babygirl? i can feel your pretty pussy squeezing me again.”

“yes, sorry daddy.”

“there is nothing to be sorry about, just means your daddy’s doing a good job,” he says with a grin, keeping up the pace, rutting into your sloppy cunt. queefing sounds and slapping of skin on skin make you blush furiously yet you can’t take away your gaze from where satoru keeps burying himself inside you.

the girth of gojo’s cock is deadly – not only he’s able to reach the spongy spot almost immediately, making white spots dancing across your vision, kaleidoscope of pleasure lighting up your every nerve ending, he is also bruising your cervix just with enough pressure to make you twitch in delight. his pubic bone grinds against your puffy clit and it’s setting up fireworks against your skin, hot molten lava igniting your whole being.

your moaning becomes uncontrollable as satoru’s fucking you in an animalistic pace – he keeps splitting you open, the spread of legs is slowly growing uncomfortable.

“look how good you’re taking me, being such a good girl for me,” he’s babbling, edging himself too – he wants to feel you spasming around his cock, he cannot let himself cum before that. “gonna feel so good cumming inside, pretty. give you a cute little brother or sister, huh? what do you think? i bet you’ll look so gorgeous being pregnant with my baby.”

“no, daddy, you can’t do that…”

“hm, why? just imagine, you walking around, with my child inside your belly, all cute and swollen for me, tits full of milk. wouldn’t you want that?”

you hiccup a sob as gojo keeps dragging his heavy cock in and out of you, the vein you saw before pressing against your walls deliciously, and you feel your toes start to curl as your body chases after the second orgasm. you dig your nails into his biceps, certain to leave half moon marks on his porcelain skin, and bite your lip. in turn, he is pressing his fingers against the plum skin of your hips, marking you with bruises to remind you of this tomorrow.

“shit, i haven’t fucked your cunny for that long yet it’s already perfectly snuggled around me. i’m training it fast, huh? i’m gonna teach it to fit only me,” you can hear the grin in his voice as he says that.

gojo feels your walls tighten around him – he can see you’re teetering on the edge of climax, whining and moaning under the man, letting him completely use you – so he picks up the speed, assaulting your abused pussy. it doesn’t take longer than that for the tension in your tummy to snap, and you’re wantonly crying out satoru’s name.

“fuck, dollface, you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now. want to milk me for all i’ve got?”

you’re cock drunk, unable to respond to him, hoping your mewling will be enough for the man to see he fucked you stupid. he is not showing signs of slowing down – you can only continue whining as satoru chases after his own pleasure. he pistons his hips couple of times more, and you can feel him throbbing inside as he shoots creamy ropes of cum inside you, painting your womb white. the ring of mixed fluids at the bottom of his cock drives him insane, and he continues fucking his cum into you.

“shit baby, can’t waste a single drop now, can we.”

you’re letting out a quiet sob, pleasure too overwhelming and almost feverish, still unable to find your voice. when he deems it satisfactory that his seed is all warm inside you, gojo finally pulls out and kisses the top of your head.

“i’d say this was a good practice run, what do you say? your mom only comes back in a week, i’ll make you my personal cumdump until then.”

you snap your head up at his words, the smile playing on your step-dad’s face borderline sinister. you think it’s supposed to make you scared, then why is your pussy already twitching around nothing?

“yes daddy, anything for you.”

[lucerothings1]

Rents due.

Pairing: Oscar Isaac and male reader

Warnings: gay smut, anal, oral, top Oscar bottom reader, sir and Mr. Kinks.

Summary: when your parents leave you with no way to pay the bill while they are gone you gotta get creative.

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“Honey you are okay we can buy another ticket” your mother had said to you as she was saying her goodbyes along with your father as they were getting ready to go to their trip.

“Mom I’m good really you both go and enjoy your cruise” you told her with a reassuring smile. “Okay then well be safe okay” she responded knowing she wern't going to win with you “Mhm I know be safe and let me know when y’all arrive” you yelled to them from he front door all the way to their car as they waved goodbye and where officially off for their three month vacation.

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“Knock! knock!” You heard at the front door as you got up from the couch and made your way up fixing yourself up only wearing the black short shorts your mother hated saying that there where to revealing so of course you wore them now that you were alone as you noticed it was your landlord “Hi Mr. Isaac what’s up” You greeted the man that as standing at the door “Hi y/n are your parents home” he asked “um no actually they are out of town for vacation um what did you need” you responded.

“Oh okay it’s just that rent was due a week ago and I’ve been trying to get a hold of your dad and mom but no response” he said “Yeah um come in let me check real quick if they have there check book here and I can get you that” you said opening the door to the man as he went inside as you closed the doors and you headed to their room.

“I’ll be back” you smiled at the man how just nodded back as you walked away feeling his eyes nearly burning a hole through you. “Okay so bad news I can’t find any check books whatsoever I think they must of took them” you said to him as you found him sitting on the couch in your living room now “oh oh don’t worry it’s fine I guess I can wait when are they coming back” he questioned “um bout that they aren’t coming back till in three months” you answered “Ohh okay and what they left you here all alone what if someone try’s to break in or something” he said getting up and crossing his arms with a teasing grin.

“Well you don’t gotta worry bout that Mr.issac and yeah I’m not much of a cruise guy but what about you Mr. Issac what are you up to” you said stepping closer as you stated to check him out and how his tight shirt hugged all the right places. “Not much these days just at home and work” he responded “That’s good and how’s Mrs. Issac doing” you asked looking at him more trying to still see if that grin was a flirt or just his face playing tricks.

“Um oh yeah no Mrs.Issac any more y/n” he responded with a smile "oh really what happened of it’s not to muchto ask” you asked “oh no your fine and just grew apart love stops and all but divorce feels nice now” he responded looking you up and down “Quick question y/n” Oscar asked “ yeah what’s up” “ how old are you” “ um I’m 21 yeah just turned last year” you said as you now returned the looks as you both looked eyes.

“Y/n do me a quick questain why so formal with the Mr.” he said whispering at your ear as he walked closer to you “ You know how I am Mr.Issac but I think I know how to pay that rent now” you said as you pushed him on to the wall and closed the gap between you both and started to make out with each other

“Mm how bout me go to my room” you moaned out as he darted to your neck sucking at it. “Nah I don’t think so” he said as he separated himself from your lips and pulled you onto his grasp and walked over to the couch. “Come here baby” he said sitting down and pulling you from your shorts down onto his lap as you took your place and sat as he took hold of your waist and started to attack your chest marking it all as you continued to tease as you rolled your hips starting to feel his hard on.

“Ah fuck baby come on slip these off” he said you as you later got up and stripped and he started to as well kicking off his shoes and throwing his shirt god knows where. “ I’ve got the rest” you said to him as he kept looking at you with his lust darkened eyes as you reached to unbuckle his pants “Nah uh use your mouth” he said lifting up his eyebrow as you grinned and complied and reached with your mouth as you started to suck through his jeans and leave a wet stain on his clothed cock.

“Hurry up boy wouldn’t want to get all rough with you just yet for teasing me” he breathed out as you obeyed and reached for the zipper pulling it down with your teeth as you then pulled down the remainder of the pants throwing them to the side now leaving him in just boxers. “Come on baby boy use that mouth of yours” he said grinning as his you looked at his cock twitching and leaving a stain on his boxers of precum.

“Fuck sir your cock is huge” you marveled “well come on then why don’t you taste it” Oscar whispered as you reached over pulling the boxers down as his hard on 9 inch and thick cock nearly almost the size of a beer bottle sprang free finally as it hit you on the face swinging back as you got ahold of it with its aching red tip basically calling you in as you opened your mouth and began tapping it on your tongue.

“Oh fuck yeah boy come on use that pretty throat of yours” Oscar moaned as he got ahold of your hair and pulled you down onto him. “Ah fuck yeah baby come on start slow” he said throwing his head back as he held a grip on your hair as you could see the pleasure on his face as you licked laps around his sensitive tip. “Oh fuck I’m sorry baby but I can’t wait” he breathed out as he tightened his grip and pushed you up and down on him as the room was now filled with the sounds of you gagging and his balls fitting your chin.

“Fuckk you like that boy you love my big fat cock don't you” he said to you as he pulled you up ftom his cock "Mhm" "Use your words" he gritted out his teeth slpping you "Yes Mr.Issac I love your cock" you obeyed with tery eyes and your red face. "yeah you do baby come on all fours" he told you with his hand to your chin as he closed the gap between the both as you let him.

"Okay thats enough go on" oscar sent you on your way as you stud up and got onto the couth on your hands and knees. "God look at that pretty hole just calling to me" oscar yelled laughing "Come and get it Mr. Isaac" you looked back at him with a grin as you wiggeld your ass at him. "Teasing now are we y/n but dont mind if I do" he responded kneeling down as you soon felt his hot breath near your entreance "Just look at it teasing me" oscar said as he went in for it as you felt his warm touge pushing in you.

"Oh god sir please don't ever stop" you moaned out dropping your face onto the couch as you begun to pull at your member for relive as he soon pushed even deeper and wrapped his arms around your thighs. "Yeah baby you like that here let me help" he said as he took your cock in one hand as he then pointed out his tounge as it entered you even more as he began fucking you with his glorios tounge "god i love it so much god your amazing" you responed.

"you wanna know something" he whispered as he got up and pulled you by your hair "what sir" "That if you think thats amazing i wonder what you'll think of my cock deep inside you" he said in a tone that had made you even more horny if possible "i cant wait" you breathed out as he grinned and kissed you pushing you back down as he went back to town on your hole and reviling your self.

"Mr. Issac I'm getting closer" you desperately moaned out "Oh no we cant have that juet yet baby" he moaned out removing his hand "Come on on your back i want to see that beautiful face of yours when im balls deep in you" he commanded as you gladly obayed as you were meet with the sight of oscar as he spit onto his fingers "Come on wide legs" he said tapping on your leg as you did what was told "I'm gonna put my fingers in okay" "Okay" you responded to him as you began to feel the presure as his fingers entered as he lost no time pulling in and out.

"that feel good" he askd "yeah not better then your touge though" you grinned "well something better is still to come" he responed "It really is" you said as two fingers then became three then four. "Okay your open enough" said quickly as he spat onto his hand again now reaching down word and stroking himself as he stood up a bit. "Is that actully gonna fit" you asked to him as he looked back at you and grinned "Oh trust me it'll fit and if not we'll make it fit" he said as he reached over and kissed you as he positioned himslf in bettween your legs as you bgan to feel the same presure from early just much more bigger "I'm going in okay" he moaned in bettween kisses keeping you distracted from the pain soon turned pleasure as you nodded in acknowledgement.

"Oh fuckk god your tight and warm baby boy" osacr moaned "Fuck your big" you moaned in responce "dose it hurt" he questioned "No god no i love it" you breathed out getting used to his size in you. "you can move now" you nodded out to him as he listened and began a slow pase of in an out "God baby just look at you taking me in so well" oscar moaned out as he was laser foucesd on his cock going in and not of you.

"Go faster sir" you begged "Your wish is my command baby" he replied as he speed up his pase causeing the room to be filled of moans of pleasure form both of you and sounds of skin slapping skin as he began to stroke your member and got to attaking your chest leaving more marks all over you as you grabed at his hair "Just lok at you baby" he said to you as he took your hand to your stomch "just feel what i do to you" he maoned into your ear as you could feel his cock go in an out of you causing you to have a visablebelly bulge "Oh fuck Mr.Issac Im close" you ylled as seeing that alone sent you over "Me to baby were do you want it" he asked "Inide me sir breed me please" you moaned out arching your back in "OH FUCKK I'MM CUMMINGG" you yelled out exploding on oscars hand and your chest "Me too baby boy" osacr moaned as he felt you tighten up around him taking over the edge as you felt him paint your insides white with his baby juice "fuck yeah boy take my cum" he panted as you both rode out your highs.

"fuck that was good" osacr said as he puleld him self up a bit while still inside you. "Coulden't agree more" you breathed out "how long are your parents away for again" he asked "three months why" "Oh no just gonna give me enough time to fuck you all the times i want" he smirked "Oh most defnitely" you said grabbing ahold of him kissing him again.

"So round two" he said in bettween kisses "hell yeah" you responded "Okay good now I want you to ride me" he grinned as he got you from your waist and flipped you both as to him now underneath you and you sitting onto of his lap which lead to you both like he had thought fucking all summer long and even after that sneaking behind of your parnets.

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[jwanniie]

hi, can u do gp Karina x reader?

I have been feral over rina and step sis smut so I had to write one!!!

STEP-SIS RINA!!

Pairings: Step-sister G!p Karina x step-sister Fem reader!

Word count: 1k-ish

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk sex, p in v, words bitch, slut, whore etc used, mean Karina, switch reader and rina, make out session, parents divorce, pantie stealing, kinda fuck girl rina, step-cest, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your Willy), not proofread and just nasty smut!!!

—————————————————————————

Moving or changing environments was never something you enjoyed. Each time you moved to a new house, you were met with an unfamiliar and hollow feeling. When you found out that your parents were separating and everyone would be starting a new life in different homes, it felt like a sharp pain in your heart. And to add to that, your mother has found a new man, which means that you’re going to move in with him and his bitch of a daughter.

Karina was never nice to you, you knew her since high school. She was a bitch, heartbreaker, mean attitude and what you call a whore. She has fucked every girl you’d think of principals daughter, fucked. Girls football Teams captain, done ages ago. Girls basketball teams coach, done. Every girl that would pass by, lured already.

She could literally get anyone down between her legs, sucking her cock dry. Only one person has never acknowledged her, you. You saw her as an attention-begging bitch, whose chin is up.

That made Karina’s jaw clench in humiliation. She made tons of plans but none of them worked, all of them failing miserably. The way you never even glance her way or give her the attention that she wants. She almost gave up until…

She found out her dad was moving in with your mom, it was like discovering a $100 bill on the street, waiting for someone to claim it. And what a fool she would be if she didn't grip that chance.

During the first meeting between your mother, yourself, and her father, she was smiling brightly and talking non-stop. She was showering you and your mom with compliments and fake pouting when it was time for you to leave. Her fake act was so fake that it made you feel nauseous and you wanted to vomit.

And that’s how she acted every time your mom and her man were around, doing the most stomach aching fake shit she could ever muster. You never even flashed a smile towards her, your mom thought you were too mean and rude to your step-sister who was only trying to be a good sister to you.🥺😔

She eavesdropped when your mom was talking to you, or more like complaining about how you should start getting grip of your mean attitude. Even tho she is the mean one here, she only plastered one of her signature smirks and headed towards her room.

Your parents were leaving for their honeymoon, leaving you and that annoying thing all alone and….together. Like you thought things can’t get worse but oh how wrong you were.

You hated to admit or acknowledge this, the agitated tension replaced by sexual tension. You don’t know why or how, but the way she left lingering touches on your thigh. Or how she rubbed her crotch against your heat when passing by you in the kitchen or how she stole your used panties and jerked off to them, you know each piece of your panties and the one she stole was your favorite so you immediately noticed when it got lost, only finding it under her bed days later when your mom told you to clean her room since Karina is all day out.

You smirked to yourself and decided to play with her further, your outfits getting skimpier and skimpier each passing day. Your clothed heat rubbing against her uncomfortable erection a little longer or the way your boobs press against her back.

You were laying comfortably on your bed scrolling through whatever shit that popped up into your feed. Karina was out in those frat parties probably a girl bent over and against some available counter for her, ramming her cock in and out of that slutty pussy.

But to your surprise she was not. She was downstairs having her own bar at home, drinking anything that she had her hands on, her alcohol tolerance was high and she could drink and be perfectly fine. So when she came to your room, alcohol smell overshadowing her expensive perfume you knew that she had drunk a lot and is not in her right senses.

“Karina what are you-“ you got cut off with a strong whiskey tasting kiss, it was like you were the one who drunk not her, for actually kissing her back. Even tho your mind hated this, your heart loved every bit of it. Your lips dancing against each other’s passionately. She bit your lower lip earning a gasp from you, her tongue moving inside your mouth exploring your mouth, then her tongue started sucking your tongue.

Her hands roamed all over your body, not knowing where to touch first. Her fingers impatiently fiddling with the straps of your top, letting it slide down along the strap of your bra. Your neck area and the sexy parting of your boobs, leaving her mouth watered. She started kissing down your jaw then neck and chest, coating all this area with her saliva, and the saliva that once was in your mouth.

Her hands squishing and squeezing your soft mounds, the smell of the alcohol and those intoxicating kisses making your brain shut and mind dizzy. Desire swiping off all the thoughts of this being wrong.

Your hand traveled down to her sweats, palming the rock hard erection that she has been slowly humping against your legs. You massaged it and rubbed small circles over it, making her hiss in the pleasurable pain, wanting more.

You changed positions,you now on top of her. Your clit making contact with her base, grinding yourself against it, high pitched moans threatening to fall, but you couldn’t care less and let them fall.

Her swinging her hips and rubbing her erection back at you. The friction more and better.

You lifted yourself up and slid down her sweats then boxers. Her cock springing out, red and heavy, blood rushing through it. You discarded your shorts and top, throwing them in the same pile as her sweatpants. Your legs were in each side of her hips, you lifted yourself up once more before sinking down on her length. A choked moan from you and a groan from her. Her tip hit your g-spot perfectly. You stayed there not moving, enjoying the sight of her so desperate and hungry for you. Squirming trying to start thrusting back up at you, gripping your waist so tightly, that red nail marks were there.

You leaned down on her, making your boobs suffocate her. She took a deep inhale, processing your perfume. The smell that made her crave you more and a low whine escaped her lips.

You decided enough teasing. You started sinking your core down to meet her tip, which parted your folds deliciously. Whimpers coming from the both of you. You fucked yourself faster, using her as your own personal dildo.

Her loud groans echoing through the room along with your moans. She was always dominant in every hook up she had, but being the submissive for once was different type of pleasure. One she didn’t think she’d like this much.

The pornographic scene and noises that came out of you and the way you basically were jumping on her dick. Made her cum shoot deep inside your womb, your tummy slightly swollen and your juices ran down your thighs then her pelvis. Your tight hole squeezing her now more.

She laid there limp and you laid on top of her. Not long after she was in a deep slumber, you were admiring her deeply, you never knew how pretty she actually is till now.

Deep down you maybe loved this even more than her.

[sailorstar9]

My Stepsister Seduces My Husband, But What She Doesn’t Know Is That...

F/N and Zhongli had their wedding shortly after the Lantern Rite Festival.

Everyone thought F/N found a handsome man, not knowing the truth. They were all deceived by his chiselled face and body; F/N's step-sister was one of those deceived. Because no one, save for the Adepti in Liyue Harbor, knew that Zhongli was the Prime Adepti.

After the most recent 'Rite of Descension', he started to work at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour as its consultant.

A few days after the Lantern Rite Festival, F/N brought Zhongli home to visit her parents. They brought along three large boxes of gifts along with Gaming and a fellow guard from the Transport Agency. It was Zhongli first meeting with his wife's family.

The presence of Zhongli and the two Transport Agency guards scared F/N's biological father and stepmother.

The dinner table was set after Zhongli paid Gaming and his partner for their services.

F/N's step-sister, dressed to the nines, kept helping Zhongli to food, trying to impress him. “My sister is merely a junior tax agent working at the Ministry of Civil Affairs. And yet she found such a wonderful man like brother-in-law. I envy her; unlike me who works hard training under Director Yun every day, afraid to eat more just to maintain my figure. I might be able to perform alongside the Director some day and may not even find a partner as good as brother-in-law.” she sighed, showing off by pinching her slim waist.

F/N's step-sister, Zhen Yu, was brought by F/N's stepmother; their two families were from divorced and remarried families.

A few years ago, F/N's mother died from a rock slide while working at The Chasm. Shortly after that, F/N's father quickly got together with Zhen Yu's mother after a meeting with the marriage broker.

Ever since Zhen Yu entered the household, the two step-sisters never got along. Zhen Yu especially loved competing with F/N. When Y/N pulled her hair into a bun with a hair stick, Zhen Yu would also bun up her hair the next day with an extra hair stick. When F/N was thirteen, a boy from the neighbourhood gave her a love letter. Zhen Yu then intentionally wore a floral dress in front of him and claiming F/N was dirty and didn't bathe. Seeing the boy flee from embarrassment, Zhen Yu smirked to herself. Later, when F/N approached Yun Jin for an apprenticeship, Zhen Yu followed suit and applied. She cried pitifully, saying she didn't dare to ask for much. And if her real father was around, he would definitely be willing to send her.

The Yun-Han Opera Troupe apprenticeship fees were very high and the family could only afford to send one person.

F/N's father, feared being accused of favouritism by his new wife, sent Zhen Yu to Yun Jin.

F/N gritted her teeth and started working, using the Mora she saved from her salary to pay for her way through law school.

Later, when F/N brought a classmate home to introduce him as her boyfriend, Zhen Yu also stole him from F/N.

At this moment, when Zhongli heard Zhen Yu's words, he put down his chopsticks with a bang. He frowned slightly but didn't say anything, just overturning his bowl on the table. “My apologies.” he started. “I don't like anyone, except my wife, serving me food. I'm disgusted by the saliva.”

Zhen Yu was stunned, her face flashed with embarrassment. She looked at Zhongli plaintively, “I'm not a stranger.” she whined.

Zhongli did not say a word and just pointed his knee with a finger. “Move your feet under the table away from my legs.”

F/N peered under the table cloth, noticing Zhen Yu's foot was reaching under her chair to try and touch Zhongli's leg.

Zhen Yu was instantly dumbfounded; after all, this trick of hers always worked. It's not something a normal person would point out directly. Seeing everyone in the family glance at her, she was so embarrassed that she quickly explained, “Brother-in-law, have you all misunderstood something? If you don't like me serving food, it's okay. I know my sister is usually petty, but I really don't mean anything by it.”

F/N's step-mother immediately spoke up, “Mr. Zhongli, this is Zhen Yu's goodwill. She usually looks down on everyone, never being so gentle and caring. It's just a kind gesture. Did F/N say anything to cause you to misunderstand?”

F/N father also chimed in, “Our table is small. Bumps are inevitable. Don't think so much about it. Zhen Yu is just caring for her brother-in-law.”

As F/N watched her father's and step-mother's behaviour, she couldn't help but sneer. Zhen Yu had done this kind of thing not just once or twice; they had always turned a blind eye and they weren't any different now.

As soon as they finished speaking, Zhongli unbuttoned the top button of his suit with a somewhat amused smile. F/N was about to get angry at her father's words, but he patted her shoulder. Then, he manifested a sharp Geo shard from his palm. Letting the shard twirl above his palm, he said, “F/N has told me everything about the family. Let me make it clear to you all. F/N is my wife. If you still want to bully her in the future, don't blame me for being ruthless.” snarling at the three of them after he dispelled the Geo shard, he added, “Respecting you as F/N's parents, I won't speak any dirty words. If you don't want trouble, don't let your attention wander to my wife.”

F/N's father opened his mouth, his face red with rage, wanting to say something, but he knew he was helpless against a Vision user. Infuriated and trembling, he yelled, “How dare you... how could you find such ruffians?”

F/N simply cleared her throat and grabbed Zhongli's arm. “Ruffians? Dad, don't talk nonsense. Don't you know Zhongli is a renowned consultant at Wangsheng Funeral Parlour?”

Zhen Yu and F/N's step-mother's faces turned so ugly it could have dripped ink. They probably couldn't continue eating that meal.

Zhongli didn't say much as the conversation had ended. “it's getting late.” he started. “You should rest early. I'll take F/N home.” with that, he wrapped his arm around F/N's waist and walked away.

Turning back to her childhood home as she and Zhongli walked to the walk path, F/N saw Zhen Yu glaring furiously. F/N, it's not over between us. She swore. I must have your man. There's no cat in the world that doesn't steal fish. Just you wait and see.

“Looks like my step-sister has set her sights on you.” F/N turned to Zhongli.

F/N was surprised when her father paid her a visit at her workplace, bringing ham to apologize.

“Your mother's favourite was ham, you know.” F/N's father spoke, picking a piece of Minty Meat Roll at Wanmin Restaurant at lunchtime.”

“Alright.” F/N sighed, knowing her father's underlying intentions. “Here's the address.” she wrote down her current lodging address on a piece of paper.

“Let Zhen Yu bring them over to you.” F/N's father suggested. “She also wants to apologize to you.”

Using family ties to deceive me. F/N wondered after her father left the restaurant after paying for his share of the meal. Was it just a ploy to get Zhen Yu my address? It seemed like my sister hadn't given up; still determined to win Zhongli over.

Sure enough, that weekend, Zhen Yu showed up at F/N's door, knocking. She was dressed in a figure-hugging qipao and high heels.

Seeing F/N answer the door, she hesitated for moment, collecting her flirtatious look. “Your place is hard to find. My feet ache from all that walking.” she whined.

“Then, why don't you hire a transport agency?” F/N was not amused.

“How could I?” Zhen Yu complained. “I've come to apologize in person. I wasn't being polite the other day.”

Then, she simply entered without taking off her shoes and gave a glance around. “Is Zhongli not at home?”

“He's out getting bamboo shoots.” F/N answered, just as Zhongli came in with several bamboo shoots in a basket.

As soon as he saw Zhen Yu, his eyebrows farrowed and he gave F/N a questioning look.

“I couldn't help it.” F/N shrugged. “She sticks like glue.”

Zhen Yu's eyes lit up when she saw Zhongli. She practically skipped over, but before she could take a few steps, she tripped and fell in front of the married couple. She rubbed her legs awkwardly, “I think I sprained my foot. Honey, could you help me up?”

“You're an adult and you can't even walk properly without tripping on flat ground.” F/N chided. “Maybe you should get checked up at the Bubu Pharmacy.”

Zhen Yu pouted when Zhongli just walked over her and into the kitchen.

“Why bother with her?” the Lord of Geo looked at his wife as they prepared ingredients for Oncidium Tofu.

“She's like a rush that you can't shake off.” F/N replied, slicing the tofu.

Zhen Yu, feeling awkward, noticed that neither of the couple were paying attention to her. After a while, she picked herself up before darting towards the kitchen. “Is Zhongli the one who cooks at home? It must be hard for you; working to support the family then coming home to cook for my sister. When I have a husband, I won't let him cook for me. Cooking is women's work. Men shouldn't be in the kitchen.”

Zhongli poured himself a cup of Chenyu Brew, blew across the tea cup and took a sip to calm himself down. Rolling up his sleeves, he downed the entire cup, revealing his entire sleeve tattoo. “What's on the menu tonight? Let's cook this.” he looked coldly at Zhen Yu.

“Cook...” Zhen Yu stuttered, her face turning pale at the golden diamond-shaped tattoos decorating Zhongli's arms. “In our house, both of us handle the inside. Do you have a problem with that?”

“I don't have a problem.” Zhen Yu stammered. “I just feel sorry for my sister. It's not easy for you.”

“You're not someone to me.” Zhongli replied dismissively. “Why should I pity you?”

F/N pulled the still shell-shocked Zhen Yu away, “It's better to just give up. Not all men fall for your tricks.”

“Wasn't my brother-in-law just joking?” Zhen Yu recomposed herself with a forced smile as she prepared to leave F/N's house. “He's really funny.”

“Don't worry, mom.” Zhen Yu assured her mother once she returned home. “There was a small mistake there. There's no man I can't handle. I'm set on winning Zhongli and making F/N miserable. You didn't visit their house. You don't know they live in a house bigger than ours and they have more antiques than us. It's just her husband seems a bit off but rich people all have their quirks. It's normal. F/N is not as attractive as me. Why should she have such a good husband? She must have tricked him. Wait and see. I used to steal all her boyfriends. Now I will steal her husband too. Men are all the same.”

“Now, what is this about the ex-fiance of yours?” Zhongli breathed, the couple were cuddling in bed after a night of lovemaking.

Acting upon Zhen Yu's instigation, F/N's former fiance had harassed the couple during lunchtime.

“He's just a cheating scumbag that's not worth mentioning.” F/N replied. “We cut off any contact a long time ago. Zhen Yu is bothering you, not me.”

“So, someone's still yearning for your husband and you're not jealous?” Zhongli quirked an amused smile.

“Of course, I get jealous.” F/N playfully poked Zhongli's bare chest. “But I know not everyone can seduce my man.”

Days later, F/N's relatives begun to gossip about Zhen Yu's dismissal from her apprenticeship. She had bullied her fellow junior troupe members and attempted to seduce the troupe elders' sons to get more prominent roles which backfired when Zhongli made a formal complaint of her misconduct directly to Yun Jin. She was permanently expelled from the opera troupe, ending her dreams of performing alongside the troupe director.

[mountainsandmayhem]

Aisle Amore

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader Summary: You truly never know who you might meet in the grocery store. CW: no smut, all fluff. Flirting, mention of divorce, talks of food, more adorable flirting. Word Count: 3.4k AN: I've gone soft!! I couldn't stop thinking about how the couple in Wonderful Tonight and Netflix & Chill met and even though no one asked, this is exactly how they met. I worked in a grocery store for almost 15 years and I can tell you right now that I would to SPRINTING to the pasta aisle. Special thank you to @mermaidgirl30 for beta reading and both her and @littlevenicebitch69 for helping me come up with a title. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

To you, there’s nothing worse than asking for help. You’ve been fiercely independent your entire life, and these snapped ligaments have been testing you. Your friends say they don’t mind helping, but YOU mind them helping. The pain in your ankle has finally subsided enough that you can put a little weight on it and only use one crutch.

Freedom! 

You shut your laptop at 6 pm, change into something that isn’t pyjama pants and begrudgingly put on a bra. The first stop on your newly found freedom tour is the grocery store. Thirteen year old you would be appalled at how excited you are over this. You jot down all the ingredients you’ll need to make homemade pasta, marinara sauce and meatballs. 

Living in downtown DC has lots of perks, one of them being you can walk to the grocery store that’s just around the block. After gingerly testing your ankles a few times you decide you can walk there. Your dad’s voice echoes through your head, “This family doesn’t cry, take care of yourself, don’t depend on anyone but you”. 

The walk there is easy, it feels good to be out in the summer evening sun, soaking in the vitamin D that you’ve been missing out on the last few weeks. You grab one of those small baskets with wheels and head into the store. It might be dramatic, but it’s been almost three weeks since you’ve been out on your own and you feel that same hyped elation you had at 16 when you got your license and your parents allowed you to go out on your own the first time. Except at 16 you picked up your friends and went to the record store, you were much cooler in your youth. 

“Stick to the list,” you say to yourself, realizing you’re slowly becoming just like your mother. That’s fucking depressing. 

The first items are olive oil and flour, you crutch along, the sounds of metal clicking and the rubber bottom squeaking following you as you move along the shiny white tile floor. A song you vaguely remember hearing during your childhood plays overhead, Eric Clapton singing about a woman looking lovely. The bakery must have fresh bread, and the delicious scent of it makes your mouth water. 

Focus! 

As you turn down the pasta aisle, you brush past a man in a suit who’s looking at the canned pasta sauces, poor sap, and stop about ten feet away from him. The small bag of flour you need is on an easily accessible shelf but of course, there’s only one left and it’s all the way at the back. 

Marcus holds up a jar of canned marinara, silently humming along to Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton. He swears he hears his grandmother on his mother’s side rolling in her grave. She wasn’t Italian, but owned a restaurant and was definitely looking down at him ashamed that he was BUYING something she taught him to make.

Sorry grams, he thinks, just as someone hobbles past him, vanilla wafting behind her, temporarily replacing the scent of the fresh bread he’s also going to pick up. His grandmother might come back just to slap him for this dinner tonight. Granted, he did just return from seeing his ex and her new boyfriend so maybe she’d take pity on him. Bake him those gooey chocolate chip cookies he loved so much. 

As he turns to head toward the pasta he sees a woman who quite frankly takes his breath away. She’s so beautiful that he almost can’t take her all in at once. Her bare legs are toned and tanned, wrapped in long black biker shorts, paired with a plain grey t-shirt and unzipped black hoodie. One high top converse laced up on one foot, the other in an uncomfortable looking boot. Her hair is in a low messy bun with almost too perfectly placed pieces along her neck and face. She seems to invade every ounce of him, until all he can see is her and all he can smell is warm vanilla. His mouth goes dry, and his heartbeat fills his ears. 

This next bit happens so quickly that he doesn’t have time to even think about it. But you would later describe it as not one of your finest moments, and he would describe it as the moment that changed his life. 

He watches as you reach above your head, raising up on the tippy toe of your good foot. As you lean forward, your hollow aluminum crutch slips out from underneath you and falls to the ground. An echoing tinny bang startles you and you stumble, putting too much pressure on your broken foot. The sweetest sounding “Ouch! Motherfucker,” leaves your pouty pink lips as Marcus rushes to catch you. 

“Whoa,” he says as he reaches out to steady you, one hand wrapping around your hip, the other cupping your elbow, helping you off your injured leg. “Are you ok?” 

Your cheeks flush as you look up at him. “Sorry, thank you.” 

Your bright blue eyes wash over him, and something tugs behind his heart. Eric Clapton singing "Oh my darling, you are wonderful tonight" as he stands there temporarily stunned, unsure of where he is or what is name is. It's just you.

It doesn’t make any sense, you could be married for all he knows, but something about you draws him in. He didn’t think he’d feel this way again for a very long time, but he needs to find a way to keep talking to you. 

“Let me get that for you,” he says, his hand moving from your elbow, reaching up and easily plucking the flour off the shelf. 

“Thanks, I could have gotten it.” You say and he fights to stop from laughing. He can tell that you’re not someone who asks for help. No, you’re independent and strong willed. And fuck if that doesn’t just make that tug behind his heart pull that much harder. 

“I know you can, you just scared me.” He looks down at you softly as you stare up at him. 

He’s suddenly very aware that he still has one hand on your hip. Your shirt had ridden up as you wobbled, and the skin of your hip is soft and warm against his palm. He finds himself wondering if the rest of you is just as comforting. Just as an inviting. The light scent of your vanilla perfume fills the small space between the two of you. 

“Look,” he says, finding it inside himself to peel his hand off you now that you’re steady, placing your flour in your basket and bending to grab your crutch. “My grandma is already cursing me from heaven for buying canned sauce and boxed pasta. Can you please let me help you?” 

You open your mouth and then close it, almost like you’re trying to come up with a reason to not let him, so he quickly adds, “For my sake.” 

You laugh through your nose, shaking your head and taking your crutch from this incredibly handsome stranger. 

Please don’t be married. Or a total creep. 

“Smooth,” you say teasingly. 

He tugs at his white button up shirt collar. “Is it hot in here?" He fakes a dramatic cough, "I swear - she’s watching me.” 

You look up at the white painted ceiling of the grocery store. “OK, grandma. Chill. I’ll let him help me.” 

When you look back at him he’s smiling from ear to ear, and if you thought he was handsome before; well, fuck, there’s not even a word to describe how unbelievably charming he looks right now. 

He looks down at your basket before saying, “Do you have a big list?” 

“Umm,” you say holding out the special lined paper you have to make grocery lists. “I have a few things, ya.” 

His thick fingers brush lightly against yours as he takes the list. You can’t help but notice that he’s not wearing a wedding ring, score, his nails are trimmed short and his cuticles are nicely manicured. You assume he must have some sort of fancy office job, like a lawyer or an accountant. He seems to radiate stability and you didn't realize you could be so aroused by fingers.

“Are you making pasta? And sauce?” He asks as his brown doe eyes scan your list. 

“I am,” you say proudly. You might not be a world famous chef, but you take pride in your cooking abilities. 

He smiles back at you again. “Stay here,” he says softly, “I’m gonna grab a cart.” 

As he turns to walk away, taking your basket and his sauce with him, you notice the way his grey suit jacket clings to his broad shoulders. Accountant by day, muscle model by night? Muscle model? Great, he’s broken your brain. 

It doesn’t take long before you hear the distinct rumbling of the plastic wheels of a shopping cart heading your way. Just as your handsome stranger comes back into the aisle “At Last” by Etta James starts to play. 

“I’m Marcus, by the way,” he says, grabbing a box of pasta on the shelf and sitting it next to his sauce in the top part of the cart. 

You say your name and notice the tiniest glint in his eye as the sound of it wraps around him. “Well then, we’d better get going on this list.” 

He moves slowly, allowing you to set the walking pace. He’s taken your list and the entire thing feels almost too domestic, like you can envision yourself doing this every weekend with him for the rest of your lives. Maybe there would even be a kid in that little part where he puts his boxed pasta and canned sauce. 

“Alright, so we covered names and who grew up where. So, what do you do for a living?” You ask, snatching a bottle of olive oil off the shelf. 

“I - uh - I work in law enforcement,” he says. 

You look at him, then his tie, then back at him. With a hint of amusement in your voice you say, “Pretty fancy dress code. What are you? Like FBI or something.” 

“Yes, actually. And now that you know that, I miiiight have to kill you.” 

You laugh, “Sure know how to put a girl at ease, Agent Pike.” 

The way you say agent, all teasing and flirty, goes straight to his cock. He’s been called Agent Pike thousands of times over his career but it’s never sent a shiver down his body like that before. 

He runs a hand over his patchy scruff. “I’m kidding. About the killing part, not the FBI part.” 

“Thanks for clarifying,” you laugh.

Whitney Houston’s voice floats across the store, singing about dancing with someone who loves her. 

Neither of you is particularly paying attention to your list or what aisle you’re in. You snake up and down each aisle, both of you occasionally grabbing something you need. 

“What about you?” He asks. Something about the way he asks a question seems different. It’s like when Marcus asks something he’s genuinely asking, not just trying to force conversation. With every answer you give his eyes focus on yours, he nods and seems curious and excited to hear what you have to say. 

The bar is truly in hell if I’m turned on by a man who’s just treating me like a human. 

“I run a small online store for my, umm, for my designs.” This part is always awkward, men change how they treat you once they find out what you do for a living. You avoid his eyes, he’s so goddamn handsome and you’re already disappointed that he’ll soon give you an ick with how he’ll respond to your career, how all men respond. 

“Your designs? Are you an artist?” His eyes light up and he stands a little taller when he asks, he must love art. He’s going to be thrilled to find out your best friend owns a gallery, and probably even more thrilled when he learns you hurt your ankle falling off a step ladder she had you posing on as she painted you, and yes, you were completely nude. 

“No,” you laugh. “I design clothing. Sort of.” You continue avoiding his eyes and chew on the inside of your cheek as you grab some dried oregano and place it in the basket. 

“Hey,” he says softly, stopping by the spices, “You don’t have to tell me something you don’t want me to know.” 

“It’s not that. It’s just,” you stop, glancing up at his warm chocolate brown eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows, and you have the sudden urge to sink your teeth into his neck. “Men just usually treat me differently once they know.” 

He narrows his eyes at you and his lips curl into a tight lipped and curious smile. “That’s clickbait. Now you have to tell me.” 

“Or you’ll kill me?” You laugh. 

“Yes, FBI remember,” he says sarcastically. 

You take a deep breath through your nose before you begin. “Ok, I design and sell lingerie.” You try to sound as casual as possible, smiling sweetly at him before you start walking again. 

Marcus doesn’t follow along so you look over your shoulder at him. Is he blushing? 

“Well,” he says, clearing his throat and avoiding your eyes. “I don’t see how that would make someone treat you differently.” 

“Then why are you blushing, Pike?” You flutter your lashes at him as he catches up to you in the aisle. 

The pink of his cheeks deepened, “I’m not blushing. Pretty sure I got a sunburn when I grabbed the cart.” 

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard that being indoors during sunset is a very dangerous UV time.” You joke. 

He laughs, “You’d be shocked how many people don’t believe it.” 

You both laugh as you head towards the produce department for your tomatoes and onions. Elvis’s ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’ comes over the speakers, and even though other people are shopping, it feels like it’s being targeted at just the two of you. You pluck a few tomatoes from the shelf and he opens the little plastic bag for you to place them in. 

He takes a breath to start speaking and you brace yourself for the inevitable. All men do it. They all either ask what your company is called so they can look up your Instagram later or they’re bold and flat out ask you to model some of your designs for them. 

“Where’d you learn to make pasta?” He asks, his voice quivering at the closeness of your body to his. 

“Umm, I sort of did an Eat, Pray, Love thing recently.” You say quietly, smiling up at him. It’s the tiniest movement, but you swear his eyes flick to your lips as your hand brushes against his while you reach into the bag. Your heart is pounding behind your ribs, it’s almost unfair how handsome he looks under these fluorescent lights. 

“Oh? Like you went to Italy?” His voice is low and nervous as he watches you picking up tomatoes, squeezing them gently and smelling them. Carefully choosing the best ones. 

“Yes. Without spilling my whole life story, I got married young and then divorced a few years ago. I just kind of needed a hard reset on myself.” You drop two more tomatoes in the bag and then side step, or more more like side hobble, to the onions. 

“Huh,” he says, “I can honestly say that I know exactly what you mean by that.” 

You both smile at each other, you swear you can see his pulse flutter in his neck before he says, “Unfortunately, I think we have everything on your list,” he finishes off his sentence by saying your name and it sends an explosion of butterflies in your lower belly. You don’t know if you’ve ever met someone who makes you feel like you have somehow known them for your whole life but is also brand new. 

“Sorry. You probably have places to be and I’m -“ Your voice trails off when he slowly steps even further into your space. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he says softly, his fingertips brushing against yours causing a buzzing up your arm. Just then ‘I knew I loved you’ by Savage Garden rains down from the speakers. Marcus laughs gently and continues, “Is it just me or has the music been interesting in here tonight?” 

You move your pointer finger just a hair so it brushes against his, “ya, sounds like the crab from The Little Mermaid is in charge.”

A laugh from his stomach passes his lips, it’s joyous and melodic and even though you’ve just met him, you want to make him laugh like that for the rest of your life. He’s smiling so big that you can see all his straight white teeth. His head tips forward slightly and the skin around his eyes crinkles. You’re both so close, he smells like mint and a new book and everything around you seems to fall away, blurring around the edges. It’s overwhelming. Dizzying even. He’s the one. You can’t explain it, but you were meant to be in this grocery, with this annoying boot and crutch. 

“That’s not quite the comparison I would have used, but yes.” His eyes dance around yours, still laced with amusement and happiness. “Is he a crab or lobster?” 

“I think he’s a crab,” you say, pulling your hand back from his to stop yourself from leaping off that cliff and into his arms.

“I think he’s a lobster,” he counters, stepping back but never breaking the connection of his eyes with yours. 

As you head towards the checkout you glance towards the shopping cart nervously, remembering that you walked here. 

Both of you pay for your groceries in a comfortable silence and he scolds you teasingly for trying to grab your bags. “Grandma is still watching.” 

The two of you head for the exit. “Did you park somewhere?” 

“No. I can take them from here,” you’re not going to let this man drive you somewhere or walk you home. That’s ridiculous. You are strong and you’ve already impeded his life enough. 

He lifts his eyebrow suspiciously and turns just a touch so you can’t reach your bags. “You walked here, didn’t you?” 

“It’s really fine, Marcus. It’s not far. Thank you for your help. You didn’t need to do that.” 

“I have an apartment that way,” he says, nodding his head in the same direction you need to go.

“Oh that’s very forward of you, but I know better than to go to a secondary location with a stranger.” And he does it again, that beautiful, happy laugh. “I’m in the same direction.” 

You walk down the quiet street. People always say they wouldn’t want to live downtown because it’s too noisy, but truthfully, after the work crowd disperses for the evening and the dinner rush parts, it’s quite peaceful. 

“How sure are you that he’s a lobster? Willing to make a bet?” 

He looks over at you cautiously. “Alright. I’ll play along. I’m 100% sure he’s a lobster. What’s the bet?” 

“Wow. Marcus Pike, does the FBI know you’re such a risk taker?” 

He says your last name and follows it with, “Quit stalling, what’s the bet.” 

“Ok ok. Once I’m off all the painkillers. If he’s a crab, I make you REAL pasta. If he’s a lobster, you take me out for real pasta.” 

You both stop at the same time in front of the same building, “This is me. So is it a bet?”

Marcus pulls a key fob out of his pocket, “This is also me. And yes, we have a bet.” 

You cross the lobby together, you select your floors and exchange phone numbers on the way up and then he finally gives you your bags. 

“Thank you,” you say, smiling at him sweetly as the elevator approaches your floor. “I appreciate you using your grandma to help me.” 

He covers his heart with his hand. “I would never!” 

As the elevator comes to a halt he glances up at you sheepishly and your heart almost breaks open right then and there at how devastatingly handsome and heart meltingly adorable he is all at the same time. 

You smile like a damn fool the moment you’re out of that elevator. Of all the ways you thought your night was going to go, it did not involve a very charming stranger making you all nervous and delusional. 

The second you get inside your apartment you fight the urge to prove yourself right and cash in on our dinner, but you already miss him, so you text him. 

Tag list:

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[jules-writes-stories]

The Night Court Lounge | Tribeca, NYC

I forgot to post my WIP...Thursday? | Azriel x Eris AU |

“Perhaps I might have resisted a great temptation, but the little ones would have pulled me down” ―The House of Mirth

There was nothing like spotting one’s mother at a BDSM club. 

The ink was still wet on his parents’ divorce papers, but there she was for all to see, sprawled across Helion’s lap. After all, the Vanserras could always be counted on to feed the tabloids and gossip columns. 

Eris planned to finish his whiskey and make a discrete exit. But then, his heart leapt into his throat and his dick hardened at first sight. 

He’d been expecting Thesan in his usual get up. Eris occasionally came to The Night Court to support his ex. The man could still turn him on like no one else. They’d never been good at long-term relationships, but they could be each other’s confidantes, a soft place to fuck and forget for a spell. 

Eris had hoped to get that from his ex tonight, and was taken aback when something, someone, completely different entered the main stage. 

The man looked younger and Thesan’s lithe body and smooth brown skin was replaced by a lighter, golden tone, covered in scrolling Arabic across a sleek muscled chest. In place of white feathers were black leather bat wings. 

Eris found the whole thing to be absurd and had teased Thesan about it incessantly. But this man, his broad tattooed shoulders, the planes of his abs below the leather harness, those wings did something to him. He needed to go to fucking sleep or get laid.

Black lined eyes like topaz gazed out at the crowd. Eris wanted to smell those black curls, to test their silk between his fingers. He was being absurd. 

The beautiful man got to his knees in the most submissive prone position in the cage, and Eris watched him lean, like an overgrown house cat, into the auctioneer’s hand as she stroked those curls through iron bars. And fuck if it wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen. This man was dangerous, even caged, and Eris wanted that creature purring between his legs. 

Then Helion made a spectacle of himself, announcing his intentions, and that sealed the deal. Eris would win. He hadn’t made the Wall Street Journal’s “30 Money Makers under 30” lists three years in a row for nothing. He was an apex predator in every boardroom, could dominate every corner of the market. But what made him dangerous was his discretion.

The Wall Street wolves of Beron’s generation were past their prime. They were showy hunters who howled at every win, too certain of their supremacy and too concerned with pack politics. Thanks to a twenty four hour news cycle and social media, the current global market was volatile, and one must be ready to strike silently and with sudden force. For Eris Vanserra was no wolf. He was a snake. 

He watched the kneeling figure, whose eyes traveled the room. Eris needed them on him. Look at me. See me. And almost as if the beautiful, dark creature read his thoughts, his head turned and hazel locked with his own. Fuck. Eris watched those gorgeous eyes travel along his face, lingering on his mouth. He smirked. Then, lower, down to his shoulders, to his chest, and lingered, once more, on his fingers. Eris moved them, ever so slowly, along the wet rim of his cocktail glass. 

As those glittering eyes followed them, Eris swore he saw the man’s pupils blow out further. This beautiful stranger wanted him. And Eris had to possess this caged creature, needed to steal him away from Helion, from the pretentious Lord Winters, from Donna Suriel, the most sadistic bitch on this side of the Hudson. But mostly, Eris just wanted to watch that gorgeous face unfold with pleasure. Wanted that perfect body prone beneath him, before him, begging for release. 

He was coiled in position and ready. And then Eris clocked it: a shadow of discomfort passed across the man’s face. He shifted and this time, it was not with arousal. His legs were cramping and he was tired. He gave three taps to his leg. He saw it for what it was. The sub had used his safe signal. Feyre, the auctioneer, almost imperceptibly, picked up the pace. She’d seen it too. 

Those hazel eyes locked with his once more, as if to say, Don’t you want me? Eris kept his face impassive. He would reveal nothing. It was how he got this far, how he'd survived twenty-seven years as Beron’s son, and had made his name as the Viper of Wall Street. 

“Forty thousand,” Helion called out in his bombastic voice. 

Feyre called out quickly, “Forty thousand. Going once, twice and—” 

He struck. “Fifty thousand.” Eris was sure to keep his voice level, his timbre smooth. It did no good to sound desperate or overwrought. 

Hazel eyes locked with his, and it took all his will power not to stand up and take what was his. Because the caged, leashed, beautiful man, there on his knees, literally leaned forward, subtly arching his back so perfectly, as if his body couldn’t help but move closer to the sound of Eris’s voice. The auctioneer must have seen the same thing, because she didn’t give anyone a chance to counter. 

“Sold to Eris Vanserra for fifty thousand dollars.”  

[dokoni-mo]

Crave: Part Three || William Afton x GN! Reader

summary: Your first time with him.

NSFW // smut

word count: 8,088

warnings: age gap relationship (reader is 20 while William is pushing 40), allusions to mental illness, allusions to dysfunctional parent-child relationships, talks of divorce and custody battles, smoking, will is a bit delusional, will has scars, corruption kink, usage of pet names, Will is a bit of a creep, obsessive behavior like REALLY obsessive, and possessive, sensual touching, swearing, Michael is briefly in this too, kissing, brief and faint sir kink, breeding kink, aftercare, also yandere vibes for a very little tiny bit, praise, body worship, fingering, virginity loss, premature ejaculation, dom/sub undertones, general smut lol

minors dni // please read warnings!!

a/n: omg omg my first fic back!! I had to polish off the rust (esp with writing smut) but i got so many requests for part three of this I just had to!! anyways I hope yall enjoy!! Ive tagged a few people whom I thought would like to read this, but if you'd like me to not tag you pls let me know! enjoy! (also just a little disclaimer, i do NOT condone this type of relationship irl!! this is just my take on being with Willy)

part one // part two // part four

~~

William could remember the first time he ever laid eyes on you. He remembered it as plain as day and recounted it often.

In fact, it was probably one of the most solidified memories in his mind. Even more so than the birth of his children, or even the day he married his ex-wife. He could recall every single little detail; what clothes you and him wore, what you smelled like that day, how you styled your hair. Every last little bit, he remembered. The first meeting is always important, yes. But this one was much more important to William. In a way in which he doubted anyone but you would understand.

For it was the first time in nearly all his life that William wasn't faking.

From very early on, William knew he wasn't normal. Or, at the very least, what everyone else deemed as normal. Even as a boy, William was hard to excite, or even get some sort of reaction out of. Toys, games, new friends, holidays; none of it was ever appealing to him. He found it all boring. It caused his mother great worry too. William could see the way she looked at him. Even as a boy, he knew what that look meant.

Perhaps that's why he began to lash out in his early years. That's why he was labeled a "problem child".

William had thought that if conventional means of joy and excitement couldn't elicit a response out of him, perhaps other means would. Lying, cheating, getting into trouble. It had some effect, he had to admit. The thrill of it all. He had gotten pretty good at not being caught, too. But, of course he would slip up some times. That's when the trouble arose. William was emotive, at last, sure. But no one liked it. At least, no one liked how it came about. His mother often scolded him. Teachers too. And, if William had a father that gave two shits, he was sure he would've received punishment from the man as well.

It was confusing. Terribly, terribly confusing. Couldn't he finally be happy doing what he loved? That's all his mother wanted, wasn't it? What everyone else wanted, too? For William to find himself, and be emotive?

Then why were they mad at him. Every. Single. Time.

It was frustrating. And, the more frustrated William grew, the more he acted out.

It was a balancing match made in hell. And William grew tired of it all. William accepted that in order for him to have peace, he must comply. Mr. Afton would have to wear a mask of his own face, and be what everyone wanted him to be.

Charming. Handsome. Intelligent. Charismatic. Great husband. Better father. Businessman. Inventor. Successful. Approachable.

William played these charades for nearly 40 years now. Enough to where the lines on his face grew deeper, and the roots of his hair turned grey. He played it through the unpleasant surprise that was his eldest, Michael. Then again at his wedding to that bitch Clara. Again though Elizabeth and Evan's births. Then continued after the divorce. And on through the custody battle. And on and on all the way to now.

Every. Single. Day. For 40 years.

William was tired of it but found no avenue to stop. If he dropped the act now, he couldn't even imagine the headache that would be the fallout of it all.

He had to keep it up. He had to. This was the life he made for himself. He made his bed long ago, and now he had to sleep in it. William was in a prison of his own making. That no one even knew was constructed. He hated that he got Michael out of all of his kids. He hated his business. He hated his neighbors. He hated his friends that weren't Henry. He hated his fancy house, expensive car, and clothes.

This life was his fate, and how unfortunate he was.

Or so he thought.

He didn't want to pay for Michael's college. William would never admit it out loud, but he thought that boy trying to make something of himself other than a minimum-wage employee was a joke. That's why he forced Michael to pay his own way. In reality, he told Michael it was to "make him more of a man", but William knew his son saw right through it. Michael could be smart, sometimes.

Sometimes.

Because Michael was, in fact, a minimum-wage employee at his father's diner, the young man couldn't afford much else than the local community college. Not that that was a bad thing to the young man; Michael didn't care that much. William wouldn't have cared either way, but Michael's compliance made things easier. And, being around other people his age, Michael was out of the house more often. This meant less fights that William would have to deal with weekly. It was a win-win all around.

And, when Michael was home, he would often be accompanied by one or two of his friends. William didn't mind, as long as his house was kept tidy, and no one made too much noise. Any distraction that would take his idiot of a son away from him was welcome.

If William was around when Michael showed up with a friend, William was polite enough to them. A smile and a how are you, perhaps even a question or two. Just small talk, enough to keep up his façade of good dad, better person.

That was until, years into his university, Michael brought you over.

William was in his house that day, doing paperwork at the kitchen table with a cigarette pluming smoke in the ashtray nearby. The Diner was closed whilst the state was doing their bi-annual health inspection. While Mr. Afton preferred to keep himself occupied to his workshop in the basement, he thought that perhaps a change of scenery could do him some good. Smoking in the basement made it stuffy down there, anyway.

He would later be so, so grateful for this decision.

From the opposite end of the house, William heard Michael's keys in the door, twisting the lock to let the young man in. Listening a second longer, William could discern two sets of feet walking along the wooden lining of his foyer, along with two hushed whispers bantering amongst themselves.

Mr. Afton breathed a quiet sigh through his nose.

Great. Michael was home. And dragged some other runt along the way.

William knew that in order to reach Michael's room, his son and his friend would have to go upstairs. And, much to William's dismay, the entrance to the stairs was positioned in such a way that his son and his friend would have to go through the kitchen.

Great.

Hearing the footsteps grow closer and the whispers louder, Mr. Afton leaned back in his chair, tamping out his cigarette in the process. Grey eyes situated on the paperwork in front of him, William put on his well-rehearsed soft, friendly smile, waiting for his son to show himself.

Michael was the first to round the corner, the care-free smile slowly fading off the young man's face as he saw his father sitting in the kitchen. Sensing Michael's presence in the doorway, William looked up from his work and to his son, his fake smile growing to make up for the disgust he felt.

"Dad..." Michael groaned, "What are you doing here? I thought you had work today..."

William chuckled, "Michael, I told you this morning. Inspection, remember?"

Michael rolled his eyes and sighed, looking around the corner of the door and saying a few more hushed words. Whoever his son's friend was, they must be shy. William couldn't blame them too much. Mr. Afton was probably the most popular guy in town these days, with the amount of business the Diner had brought in.

Michael turned his attention back to his father, "I have a friend over. Is that alright? Or are you gonna throw another fit?"

William clenched his jaw, "Of course, of course, it's no trouble at all! Just keep it quiet upstairs, yeah?"

Rolling his eyes again, Michael said a few more words around the corner before making his way to the stairs. William had dropped his gaze for a moment to fill in a few of his signatures. When he sensed that his son's friend had finally shown themselves around the corner, William looked up to give them a friendly smile.

Oh, and there you were.

Adorable, precious, beautiful, darling you.

The world around him seemed to fade away when William laid his pale grey eyes on you for the first time. Instantly, he knew you were the single most breathtaking creature he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. You put his ex-wife to shame ten times over. A hundred times, even. All of his past flings as well. They were nothing compared to you.

You were a timid little thing. William could tell by the pink on your cheeks and your hands clasped in front of you. You had a small, soft little smile; your lips so perfectly round and plump. The way your hair had framed your face made you look as if you were hung in the Louvre itself. Your eyes were kind, looking at the older man with a warmth William didn't know possible. Genuine warmth, too.

The way you looked at him. The way you carried yourself. The way you smelled, even halfway across the room. The way you smiled. The way those clothes hugged you in all the right places. The way your body curved and bent...

William swallowed the saliva building up the back of his throat. Without noticing, his lips had begun to part, but he was quick to fix it with a smile.

You gave Mr. Afton a tiny little wave as you shuffled awkwardly towards the stairs behind his son, your voice barely above a peep.

"Hi, Mr. Afton." You had said, "Sorry to interrupt you..."

Shit. Your little voice saying his name like that. It matched you so well.

William's smile grew as he leaned forward in his chair, setting his paperwork to the side.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, love." He said in his thickly accented voice, "At least you're getting that one out of my hair for a while, yeah?"

William almost never made jokes at the expense of others. At least, not around everyone else. He kept his true feelings in his mind most of the time. He knew most folk wouldn't react too kindly to what he really thought of them. But you...

You didn't seem the type to need such filters. He could see it already. You were the type of person to tell it how it is, and not apologize for it. Just like how he wanted to be.

How interesting.

You let out a little giggle, covering your mouth with your hand. William could feel his jaw clench again. Why were you hiding yourself from him? He wanted to see your smile. Your laugh was so cute, surely your smile is too.

William felt himself still. William wanted to see it. Your smile. That was the first time he had ever wanted someone's smile. And the fact you laughed at his joke about his son...

"Yeah, well, it's not like I wanted to, but someone's gotta do it!" You responded with sarcasm, Michael's groan making you giggle to yourself again.

Without even having to force it, William felt a laugh bubble up from the bottom of his chest. He heard it reverberate off the walls of his shiny, sleek kitchen, and it surprised him greatly. Mr. Afton couldn't remember the last time he didn't have to force a laugh. Let alone a smile. All attempts from others just made him cringe on the inside.

Idiots.

Michael had dragged you up the stairs after your little joke, annoyed by the banter between you and his father. William's eyes were fixated on you as you disappeared from sight, watching as your cute little legs carried you up his staircase.

From your height compared to his kitchen counter, William could deduce that you were much shorter than him. If he had to guess, you'd probably only about come up to his shoulder. From the lingering smell in the air too, he could tell that you took good care of yourself. You were clean. Fresh. Supple. And, from the tiny bit of your personality he saw that afternoon, William already knew he liked you. In fact, it was from that moment on that William would think of you.

He encouraged Michael to bring over more friends in hopes that you'd come back. If you weren't in his house, William found himself wondering where you were. What you were up to. What your routine was. What he assumed to be an infatuation quickly grew. He begun to think of you more frequently. When sitting down for a meal, he would wonder if you would like what he had made. William wondered what such a cute little thing like you was doing in this nowhere town. Did you have dreams away from here? Is this were you wanted to be? He had never seen you in his diner before, he was sure of it. He would've surely remembered such a pretty little thing. Although, his diner was the talk of the town. For both adults like yourself and for children. So where were you?

You became illusive to him. You were full of mystery, and he had to know more. It would never be enough. He wanted more. William began drilling Michael about who you were. This was met by some animosity by the young man, but William didn't fucking care. Eventually, when Michael became obsolete of information, William took to other means. He would eavesdrop around the diner on the security cameras, hoping one of the other college kids in there would utter your name. It was slim pickings, but the thrill of it is what got to William.

Every single little thing he learned about you was priceless to him. He committed it all to memory, as if you would vanish if he had not. You were a plague to him. It was your name he thought of first thing in the morning, and it was the last thing he moaned quietly into the night. His fantasies grew dirtier by the day. He had imagined you in oh so many different scenarios. Different positions. Places. Outfits.

Everything about you was perfect to William. From the very top of your head to the very bottom of your feet. You were his soulmate. He just knew it. Every single little thing about you had been crafted just for him. Everything you did, said, perfection. He could be so, so good for you, just as you'd be so good for him. He made more than enough money to spoil you rotten. His house was big enough for you to move in. Not that you'd need the extra space. Of course you'd be sharing a bed with him. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Couldn't you see it? How you and him were meant to be? Couldn't you picture your budding life together with him? This is what all those years of suffering were for. To lead him to you. You were his everything. His sun, moon and stars. The oxygen he breathed. The food he ate. The ground he walked on. All of it.

You.

His precious, precious little bunny.

~~

William already knew he loved you. He did, he really did. He didn't have to fake that part about him. Loving you came as naturally to him as breathing. And with you pinned underneath him, Mr. Afton felt as if he was on cloud 9.

Sure, this isn't exactly how he'd plan things to go. He didn't want to have his first time with you on his couch. You were better than that. You deserved all the nice things he had to offer. But William wasn't too sure he could contain himself long enough to carry you to his bedroom. He had already waited so long to have you. Surely you wouldn't mind, right?

You didn't seem to, at the very least. As the man continued to grope and squeeze at your chest, his other hand ripping his tie off, he studied your face carefully. His pale eyes never left your pretty little face, not even for a moment. Your cute little hands were gripping the fabric of his couch, and soft little moans escaped past your puffy lips every so often. Your eyes were focused on his arm rather than his face.

He found this to be a shame. He understood that you were probably embarrassed, perhaps even overwhelmed. This was your first time with him, after all. Oh, but it just wouldn't do, little bunny. He wanted your eyes on him.

Where they should be.

After finally getting his black tie off, William used his free hand to slip underneath your chin, using his pointer finger and thumb to tilt it up towards him. Your glossy doe eyes met his, and he could feel an uncontrollable grin creep across his handsome features.

Just look at you. Not even five minutes in, and already so eager to please him. William could see how much you were enjoying yourself already, the pleasure of it all making the ache in his pants all the more tighter.

Patience, William, patience. The night is still young.

You are something to be savored. Not just a quick fix.

"(Y/N), my darling," Mr. Afton said to you, feeling the heat radiating off your cheeks, "keep your eyes on me. I want to see you, love."

William leaned down to kiss you again, feeling how your hands gently found a spot on his chest before he could do so.

"W-wait..." you peeped out, making William still his movements. He pulled away from you for a moment, his smile falling as he looked into your worried eyes.

"What's wrong, my love?" He asked, "Please, tell me. Do you want to stop?"

You shook your head, "N-No! It's just-"

William removed his hands from you, clasping your little fingers around his own, "Please, my bunny. Whatever it is, I'll fix it immediately. Please tell me."

Mr. Afton watched you like a hawk a you looked over your shoulder towards his door, the heat on your cheeks creeping down your pretty little neck at his words.

"It's just..." you whispered to him, "What if Michael walks in on us? He should be back any minute, right?"

Oh, that. The lie he told you. He had forgotten all about that, actually. William was glad you reminded him.

Mr. Afton pressed a small kiss to your fingers to ease your worries.

"Don't worry about him, my love." He said, admiring your features as if they were fine art, "It's all taken care of, I promise. Keep your focus on me, darling. On us. You can do that for me, hm?"

After studying his face for a moment, William watched as you nodded in response, making his smile widen as he kissed your fingers once again.

"Can we maybe just move, erm... this, somewhere else then?" You asked, "Please?"

Oh. So you did mind. William mentally kicked himself. Stupid fool. Of course you would mind. How could he have overlooked that? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

William leaned in and kissed your sweet lips one more time.

"Of course, bunny." He whispered to you, finally letting go of your hands. William got off from on top of you and planted his feet on the ground. Once he was secure, he leaned down to you again and slipped you into his strong arms, holding you bridal-style close to his toned chest. He felt his heart swell inside of him as you wrapped your tiny arms around his neck, nuzzling your cute face into his neck. Gently, the older man carried you through his house and into his dark bedroom, using one of his legs to push the door open.

Once inside, William gently laid you down on top of his bed, giving you a kiss before leaving breifly to shut his door. After he was sure that it was shut tightly, William turned his attention back to you.

Heat creeped down his face and neck when he saw his precious bunny on top of his bed. Oh, little one. If only you knew how many times he had pictured you there. How many times your name was repeated over and over like a mantra within these very walls. Even with all the fantasies William had played over and over in his mind, none of them compared to the real thing. Just look at you. So so cute.

And just for him.

Walking back over to you, William was sure to drink in the sight of you on his bed, and commit it to memory. His hands on autopilot, William unbuttoned his purple dress-shirt as he neared closer, exposing his chest to you.

You must've felt awkward being the only one with all your clothes still on. He saw how you went to shrug off your jacket, but was quick to stop you as he took his place on top of you once again.

Silly bunny. That was his job.

"Ah, ah, my darling." He whispered to you, gently taking your hands away from yourself, "No need to worry about that. Just let me do all the work, yeah? Just relax, and let me take care of you."

Mr. Afton saw that his words seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Your eyes weren't on him. Instead, they were lain gently on the expanse of his chest, going up and down over and over. The dim lighting made it a little hard to see exactly, but William knew what you were doing. Ogling him.

William wasn't sure how much harder he could get. Look at you. Precious little you, drooling over his chest. What a good little bunny. That's exactly where your eyes should be, little one. On him. And only him. He only had eyes for you, so wouldn't you do the same for him? Of course you would, bunny, of course. By the end of the night, you will. Mr. Afton is gonna show you so many levels of burning hot pleasure you didn't even know existed. Why? Because you'll be his. His bunny. No one else's. And if anyone dared try take you away, then well-

"How did you get these?" William heard you peep out to him, snapping him out of his trance.

He felt one of your little hands pull out of his grip, and gently trace lines up and down his chest and stomach, earning a shudder out of him. Elation ran through his veins, knowing this was the first time you had ever touched him. Touched a man like that, too. Slowly, whilst coming down from his high, William could recognize the patterns you were tracing.

Ah, yes. Those. He had forgotten about those, too. His scars. He hadn't even remembered to warn you first. He knew that at first glance, they did look rather gnarly.

But, still. You didn't seem to mind. You were his good bunny, after all. Of course you'd be good for him. Love him no matter what he looked like. Just like how he loved you.

While you continued to feel up his chest, William shrugged off the remains of his dress shirt and tossed it to the floor. He subsequently leaned down close to you, capturing your lips in another kiss. The following ones trailed down the side of your face and to your exposed neck, earning another whimper of pleasure out of you.

"It's nothing to worry about, love." He whispered to you, pressing more kisses to your skin, "Let's just say the early designs of my spring-lock suits weren't without their... flaws."

"Do they hurt?" You asked him, your little fingers finding a place on his shoulders.

William's breath fanned across your heated skin as he chuckled, "You ask far too many questions, bunny."

William gently bit down against the swell of your neck, earning another gasp out of you.

"Just, relax, little one." He said, his hands slowly working your jacket off of you and discarding it to the floor, "Do you want to stop?"

"N-no! I just..." you trailed off, your voice fading to a whisper "I just want you to be okay."

Mr. Afton picked his gaze up from your neck to look into your eyes, committing to memory the pink on your cheeks. Oh, precious, darling little bunny. If only you knew just how much he loved you. If only you knew just how you made him feel; the gravity of your presence around him.

The older man leaned forward to kiss your neck again, his large hand gently slipping underneath your shirt.

"My darling bunny," William whispered, "you're far too kind. So, so good for me. My bunny. Mine."

The brit's movements begun to get more frantic and passionate as his hand crept up to your chest, groping and squeezing from under your shirt. Your moans became more frequent in conjunction, along with the sheer amount of bruises and marks he was sucking into your soft, warm skin. Your hands found their way across his bare shoulders, one eventually travelling up to tussle into his dark brown hair. William rumbled out a groan from the back of his throat as he continued attacking your neck.

Once he was certain that you'd have plenty of hickeys in the morning, William detached himself from you and sat back slightly. His hand ran further up your chest, pulling your shirt along with it. Once your garment was halfway up your torso, William brought his other large, calloused to the base.

"May I remove this for you, my sweet?" He asked through half-lidded eyes, the tent in his pants growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. His mind told him over and over to just cut to the chase and pound you into the mattress already, but he dismissed the thought. He needed patience. William had waited for this day far too long to piss it away. He wanted to savor it. Stretch it out as long as possible. Not only for his selfish reasons, but for your sake too. You were a virgin, after all. He didn't want to scare you away, oh no. Eventually you'll get the hang of it, anyway. Don't worry about that, little one. William promises to show you how all of it is done. Show you just how amazing he can make you feel, and spoil you rotten in the process. Give you the treatment that only his bunny gets to have.

But, for now, slow and steady it is.

You looked him in his eyes as you gave him a timid nod, making another grin stretch across his face.

"Let me hear your words, darling." He said.

"Y-yes, Mr. Afton. Please... take it off." you responded.

Fucking hell you were so goddamned cute. Sweet bunny if only you knew just how many times he imagined your cute little voice saying those exact words to him. How long he dreamt of it.

Another shudder ran through the man's veins as he pulled your shirt off of you, leaving you bare-chested in front of him.

"Please, love," he whispered, "Call me William."

The tips of his fingers ghosted over the expanse of your chest and stomach, earning a shudder of your own under his touch. Leaning down, the older man pressed more open-mouthed kisses to your collarbones and chest and his hands crept down further, stopping at the hem of your pants.

"Though, if you're up for it," he continued, "I'm quite fond of sir as well."

Before you could babble out any sort of response, William gave a few more open-mouthed kisses to the space right above your pants, your hands finding a home in his hair again. Your soft whimpers underneath the brit made his kisses all the more violent, and his hands all the more wandering. They traveled underneath you, coping a few feels at your butt before slowly trailing down your thighs.

It was getting harder by the second for the brit to control himself. He wanted to go slow, he really did, for you. But he wasn't too sure how much longer he could restrain himself from taking you as his. Here you were, right where he had wanted you for so long. Moaning and whimpering underneath him just like he wanted you to. You were already so good for him, even without him having to coach you on what to do. You truly were made for him.

So, perhaps you would forgive him for picking up the pace a little bit.

Could you do that for him, bunny?

"How about we remove these next, yeah?" He asked you through half-lidded, lust-filled eyes, his fingers picking at the hem of your pants.

You nodded in response again. Embarrassed and bashful.

Oh, naughty naughty bunny. Didn't he tell you to use your voice?

"Words, darling." He reminded you, his tone soft yet laced with firmness. He didn't want to punish you, no. Not yet, at the very least. It was your first time, and William was a generous man. He could let you off the hook this time, bunny.

This time.

"William, please..." you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mr. Afton had to take a long, deep breath through his nose to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head, a cold, sharp shudder running down his body. Begging him already? Oh, sweet little one, you were made for him. You were you were you were. You were what he was put on this earth for. Not his stupid fucking business, or being a father. No. Not at all. It was for you. He was put on this earth for you. To be your man. To give you every single little thing your precious heart desired. Money. Fame. Love. Pleasure. All of it. All of it for you. And oh did he have plenty to give you. You were his soulmate, he was sure of it. How else could you be here now? How else would he have happened to find you in this small, puny town? Amongst all these fucking idiots? You and him were meant to be, little bunny. Couldn't you see it too? Just look at you. William fits so perfectly on top of you, doesn't he? And you look so adorable underneath him with that blushy face of yours. His sweet little rabbit. His darling beloved. His sweet angel. His treasure. His love. His. His. HIS. HIS. HI-

...

Oh.

Oh shit.

Pressing a few more kisses to your belly, he snuck one of his hands down to feel around his crotch. The tips of his fingers were greeted by a small wet patch.

Damn. He really got carried away that time. First on his phone call with you, and again now? Could you notice? No, surely not. It was too dim in his room. His pants were dark too, so that made it all the more unlikely. You probably wouldn't care either way.

He was still plenty hard for you.

Composure, William, composure. Don't ruin all the fun before it even begins.

Making sure to settle down the many thoughts in his head, William gently lifted your legs and cute little butt off of his bed. Slowly, he was able to discard your pants off of you, giving your shins and thighs a few small kisses as his hands returned to the hem of your underwear.

"This too, love?" He asked.

Out of instinct, you nodded again, "Yes, but... what about you?"

William breathed out a chuckle. Silly bunny. Don't tell him you're becoming the impatient one now. As adorable as it was, William had to still go slow on you. Patience, little one.

"That'll be soon, rabbit." He told you, one of his fingers hooking underneath your underwear, "You are a virgin, yes?"

He already knew the answer to that. He just wanted to hear you say it.

"Yeah, I am... Is that a proble-"

"No, no, little bunny, no." He said in response, gently sliding your underwear down your legs and discarding it on the floor, "I just have to make sure you're prepared. Besides..."

William shifted his weight down so he was face-to-face with your lower half, guiding your thighs to rest on his shoulders. Looking up at you, he pressed his kisses into your soft flesh, throwing in a few bites for good measure as he cupped your heated sex in his palm.

"Your body is so beautiful, my love." He said, "I want to savor every part of you. My needs can come later."

William watched as your whined and squirmed underneath him as his hand made contact with your lower half, his cock aching inside of his pants yet again.

"I will warn you bunny," the brit said, "It may sting a little to start with, yeah? Are you okay with that?"

You swallowed the saliva that had been pooling in the back of your throat, "Y-Yes, that's okay. I trust you."

William let out a satisfied hum, "Good bunny."

Slowly, William trailed his hand downwards, the tip of his middle finger inching close to your hole. Mr. Afton had to swallow the saliva that invaded his mouth at the sight, worried about drooling on you and making a fool of himself. If he could focus, he would be able to tell that his hands were trembling with excitement. Oh if only you knew how long he had dreamed of this day. He was already halfway there. Halfway to making you his. He just had to make sure his precious bunny was ready first.

He didn't want you in any pain when he filled you up with his love.

William gave you a few seconds to get ready before he pushed his finger inside of you, immediately making your back arch and your hands find his shoulders and hair. The grip you had on his grey-brown locks was tight, but compared to the elation he felt while inside of you, it was nothing. A pitiful drop in the bucket of his ecstasy. You were so warm around him. So so warm and tight. A million times better than what his fantasies made him believe. And a trillion times better than those sex toys he bought.

Mr. Afton let his excitement get the better of him just a touch as he begun to pump his long, bony finger in and out of you. His other hand gripped as your thigh, squeezing it as his lips placing gentle kisses on the flesh of it as a form of silent praise.

The noises his finger made going in and out of you were sinful, and echoed off of the walls of his room. Or perhaps, his shared room now. It'd only be a matter of time now before he'd ask you to move in, if all went according to plan. He was pleased to see that you eventually loosened up around his digit and you started to become more comfortable, once all the residual pain had subsided. This is when you started to moan for him. Quiet at first, but gradually got louder and louder as he found the more tender parts of your insides.

William's eyes would often flutter shut as he heard his sweet bunny's sounds underneath him. He was elated that you were enjoying yourself. If William knew he did one thing right in his life, he knew he was pleasing you like you wanted. He could die happy knowing that. That he got one chance with you; got to hear his bunny's sweet songs just once.

But, no, no.

William was a greedy man.

He wanted more.

And he would get more.

"That's it, my beautiful little bunny," he praised you, his deep accented voiced husked with his lust, "Just like that. You're doing so amazing, my darling. So perfect for me..."

William forgot to give you a warning as he inserted another finger into you. But, with the moan that escaped your lips as he did so, he was pleased to see you didn't mind. And, he was even more pleased with the way you found your own rhythm with his fingers, helping him to finger-fuck you all the better.

"Ah- Ahh! Oh my god, Mr. A-Af- William..!" you cried out to him, your grip on his hair becoming tighter as he found the most tender part of your insides.

You were playing with fire, little one. Did you want him to have another accident?

"Oh, my sweet bunny," he groaned, trying to shift his weight to relieve some pressure off of his crotch, "yeah, that's it. Keep making those pretty sounds for me, love. Make them for me."

"W-William, I-I feel-"

"Shh, my darling, it's alright. Let it happen. Make a mess all over me, my love. I want you to. I want it, bunny. Cum all over my fingers, goregous. Don't dare hold back on me. So, so good... my precious bunny. My bunny."

The pace of William's fingers quickened the more he said, until he felt you spasm around you and a flurry of moans escaped your lips.

He did it.

He finally did it.

William has waited for so long, and he had finally done it.

Halfway there.

Halfway to go.

Mr. Afton helped you to ride out your orgasm by pressing his fingers into you a few more times. Once you had settled down, and your moans had turned into soft, breathy pants, William took his fingers out of you, pressing reassuring kisses into the plush of your thighs.

"So good, little one," he whispered to you, "You did so well, my love. Perfect, absolutely perfect."

After a few more kisses, to allow you to catch your breath, William sat up again on his knees, looking down at your sweat-gleamed, adorable little face. You were still breathing pretty hard as his hands found his belt buckle, the clink of the metal making you look up at him again.

"William... please, I need you so bad..." you breathed.

Mr. Afton's breath hitched in his throat, "I know, love, I know. And you'll have me. You've been such a good bunny for me... 'Gonna make you feel so good, my adorable little rabbit."

A rush of relief washed over William as his belt was shed to the floor, along with his sleek black trousers, making him groan. He watched as you little eyes kept flickering between his tented crotch and his face, not sure of where to look to be polite.

Silly bunny. You were allowed to look anywhere you wanted.

As William finally was able to pull off his boxers, he breathed a sigh of relief. His cock had been aching for what felt like hours now, and he was finally able to give it some relief. He could feel how he throbbed against the cold air of his room as he looked down at you once again, drinking in the sight and committing it to memory.

William knew he was a well-endowed man. Hell, that's probably why he was so popular to begin with, at least amongst the women. None of that ever mattered to him before. He didn't care. Yeah, he had a big dick. So what?

It never mattered to him, that is, until now. He could see how scared you were when you looked at him. See it in your eyes, how you worried how something like that would fit into you.

You needn't worry, sweet bunny. William would never try to hurt you. Not ever. It'll fit, sweet one, don't worry.

Don't you trust him?

Mr. Afton gave a few pumps to his length, coating it in the slick of his pre-cum as he lined up at your entrance. He could feel waves of excitement and need wash through him as the tip made contact with your flesh, making him let out another shaky breath. Though in the past the brit found missionary to be rather boring, he found himself to not mind it with you. It allowed him to be close to you. To see your face, and hear you well. All he ever wanted.

Besides, he could always try new positions next time. If you were ready.

"It might sting a little again, bunny." He warned you, "But it won't for long."

"O-Okay..." you said, "Just... Can you hold my hand? Please?"

William felt his lips part, "Yes, my love. Yes, of course."

Shifting his weight briefly onto one arm, William slipped one of his large hands into your own, interlocking his fingers with yours. His other hand was firmly situated next to your head, careful to avoid pulling on your hair.

"Good?" he asked.

You nodded, "Yes.. I'm ready now. Please, William..."

"As you wish, darling."

Excitement bubbling in his veins, William gently pushed his hips forwards, the tip of his cock entering inside of you. Along with your gasp, the man above you let out a low, breathy groan of pure, raw pleasure, a shudder making its way down his spine.

Holy fuck. It was so much better than he had imagined. You were so much better than he imagined. He was sure of it now, more than ever. You were made for him. You were pure perfection.

And all the more reason to make you his.

Get to work, William. His bunny is waiting for him.

Careful not to squeeze your hand too tightly, William let out another breathy groan as he slowly pushed the rest of his length into you. At the feeling of being fully sheathed inside of your hole, William felt his eyes roll to the back of his head, nuzzling into the crook of your neck to save-face. You were breathing rather hard underneath him, your other arm having come up to drape across his bare, scarred shoulders for extra support.

As you he felt you slowly start to relax around him, Mr. Afton pressed soft, loving kisses to your jaw and neck, the hand next to your hair stroking it softly.

"Th-That's it, love..." he whispered to you, "So good for me... My adorable bunny."

You whimpered underneath his touch, "William, I... i-it's okay to move now. Please..."

Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, William gently pulled his hips back, then thrusted up into you. He watched as you bounced slightly underneath him, a low moan escaping your lips. With all the conformation he needed, William was quick to find a steady rhythm inside of you. He never found himself to be that vocal in the bedroom from past experiences, so the brit continued to surprise himself with every groan and sigh that escaped past his lips. But, then again, it was quite different now. This was you.

And damn did you make him feel amazing.

After finding a good pace, William was able to angle himself better, trying to find the most sensitive part inside you. With one lucky guess, he was able to see how you threw your head back in pleasure, your nails digging into the skin of his back as you moaned for him.

"Ohh goddd, William..! F-Fuck, right there!" you cried out for him, your encouragement making him pick up the pace.

"Yeah, bunny?" he goaded you, "Does that feel good? You're so fucking cute. You- hahh - you feel so fucking amazing, my love, fuck..."

The brit could feel your peak drawing nearer with every clench of your walls around him, his cock twitching back in response as it continued its barrage of your most sensitive parts. This only made him snap his hips into you all the more sharply.

"(Y/N)..." he cried out to you, "(Y/N), my love. So fucking good for me. So, so good... You're perfect, (Y/N). Perfect, my bunny. Perfect."

"W-William, I-I'm gonna-"

"Me too, bunny, me too. Please, bunny - fuck - please, together, my love. Let me fill you up, my darling. With my love. Let me show you how much I adore you. Will you, my love? Please, please."

"Yes, Will! Oh my god, yes please!"

With your sweet words ringing in his ears, William made one final push inside of you, sinking in as deep as possible. Mr. Afton groaned loudly as he could feel your orgasm around him, his following not long after. He was able to manage a few tiny, sloppy thrusts inside of you as you both rode out your high, feeling as how your insides became coated with his orgasm; no, with his love.

So, so much love.

And, you, finally

were now

his.

At long, long last. He finally had you.

Happy was an understatement. Overjoyed even more so. No, William was a new man. He was now yours. Your man to protect and take care of you. And no one else's. Just as you were his now, and no one else's.

His.

It took a good while for William to catch his breath again, as well as you. Once he did so, William found the strength to pull out of you, one last ripple of pleasure washing over him. You were looking up at him through your glossy eyes and heated face, a small, dumb smile on your face as you breathed heavily. He was able to get one more kiss on your lips before he shifted his weight off of you.

"Wait here, love." He said, "I'll get something to help you clean up."

As much as it pained him to leave you without him, William knew that aftercare was important. Especially to the inexperienced. In the past, he was never fond of doing too much of it, but with you, it came naturally to him. You were such a good bunny for him, it's the least he can do to show his appreciation.

The brit was quick to disappear into his bathroom and grab a towel, feeling the cold air around him in the dark. By the time he returned, he saw that you had already turned on your side, and had wrapped yourself in nearly all the covers on his bed. Creeping closer to you, William saw that your eyes were closed; soft, steady breaths escaping past your little lips.

Damn. You were asleep already. William knew tonight would wear you out, but damn.

Looks like he still has it.

And you were far too cute to wake up now. It would just be mean if he did so. Very well. You win, bunny.

Placing the towel on his nightstand, William peeled back the last little bit of blankets you allotted him and slipped into bed behind you. You being much shorter than him, he found it easy to meld his body against yours, wrapping his arms around your little waist and pulling you close to his chest. You were so warm, and he couldn't help but take a long inhale of your scent. He was hoping to talk to you a little more after, and tell you how amazing you did, but this was fine. He could do all the in the morning. You were too cozy for now.

But that couldn't stop him from giving you some praise.

"You are perfect, my darling." He whispered into your air, as soft as he could as not to wake you, "Just as I knew you would be. You're going to learn just how much better I can make you feel, sweet thing. This is only the beginning."

William pressed a few soft kisses to your hair.

"I'm sorry I had to lie to you to get you here. I just couldn't think of any other way to get us alone. But, you'll forgive me, right?"

You didn't answer, of course.

"Oh, I know you will. If you ever find out, that is, bunny."

There's some things you're better off not knowing, anyway.

"Get plenty of rest, love. I'll be right here, I promise. I promise."

How could he ever leave you now?

"I love you."

Goodnight, little bunny.

~~

tags: @guinea-pig16 , @the-official-memester , @randomwriteralan , @mrsrogerwaters , @laylaaftonshit , @cherry-slushee , @insert-memical-username , @mrssafton , @horrorking2000

apologies to any blogs tumblr wont let me tag!!

[lovieku]

Good Luck, Babe! #3 ☆ jeon jungkook

what happens when you leave everything behind, only to be faced with it again years later? eunbi is convinced she was given another shot at keeping all she ever wanted, but it’s difficult when that all is her childhood best friend who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. how to earn his trust back?

☾ pairing: non idol!jk x fem!oc

☾ genre: childhood friends to strangers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

☾ word count: 9k +

☾ warnings: explicit language. say hi to eunbi!!! and to the friend group!!! its a bit funny until it becomes angsty … ouch. jeongguk is a bitch lowkey. pun unintended (you’ll see). theyre dramatic as hell. like bro it cant be that serious 😭. im sawrry for this. and its not all!!! see you in fourth chapter 🫡

☾ author’s note: hi hi hi!!! this took a bit to fully convince me but in the end it did. i was frustrated because i felt like i couldnt really use my words properly to tell the whole thing but… here we are now!!! thank u!!! enjoy 🫶🏻

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three ⋆ this is me trying

Up to that point, Eunbi’s life has been a constant adjusting to new surroundings, leaving bits and pieces behind, getting attached to new ones, and hoping they wouldn’t be taken away from her. It would always end up as she feared it would, though. From as early as she can remember, Eunbi would live off her blue backpack, where she gathered a toothbrush, a change of clothes and her favourite plushie to help her sleep and adapt faster to the smaller bed at her dad’s house. When her parents had divorced, it had been a rough patch before the both of them could come to a legal agreement; that being, she would spend the weekend with her father, and then stay with her mother again until Friday rolled around.

She rarely looks back at those days now, but when she does — mostly at night, her mind seemingly incapable of putting a stop to her furious flow of thoughts and just sleep — she thinks if it hadn’t happened to her when she was still pliable and mouldable, when she was yet to be met with what ordinariness was supposed to look like for others, she wouldn’t have been ready to wholly face all that followed. Eunbi was young when she learned that love between two people could end so easily, and her innocent self accepted that as the norm.

As a result, what she found harder to accept, more than her own mother and father not even being able to stand next to one another without ending up quarrelling, was having to leave her small black poodle in Gwangju, with her grandma, after moving away to Busan. Curly (little Eunbi had given him that name for obvious reasons, and to this very day she finds it dumb, but it makes her giggle nonetheless) had been a great companion through the inevitable loneliness she had to face as an only child. She was convinced he could understand her better than no other, even when she would force the tiny creature to sit and listen to her ramble on.

Busan was the next big change that was pushed onto Eunbi, only a few years after her mother got engaged to a man that would soon replace her biological father: with time, sleeping over at his house for the weekend was no longer even a contemplated thought on his side, coming up with excuses after excuses as not to, and that slowly led to showing less and less interest in keeping up with her and meeting up. The little girl had always been numb in relation to such negligence, and because of this she could consider herself lucky in some distorted sense; it didn’t affect her as much as it should have.

Part of that was also due to her step-dad being a great father figure during the initial times of his and her mom’s relationship, making sure to adapt to Eunbi’s pace and boundaries, never overstepping while also being able to bring fun into her life by taking the family out to visit places and eat delicious meals. What he couldn’t do for her, however, was live with a dog. When he and her mother decided to finally move together following their wedding, they both agreed on wanting to restart from a brand new place. Busan was their perfect pick for a variety of reasons: her mom got offered a job at a recently established company that seemed promising, and her step-dad could fulfil his deep-rooted dream of expanding his by starting a new branch.

Every single thing about him seemed perfect to her mom’s eyes, even if he was apparently deathly allergic to dog’s fur. And, of course, she picked her husband over Curly. Eunbi couldn’t believe it, nor accept it. The girl cried over the small dog for the two weeks prior to moving, during the trip to Busan, and for the following days there. Her grandmother would keep her updated by sending pictures of Curly through email, and even after the scar had healed, those would never fail to make her tear up.

As shameful as it might be to admit it, after having dried herself from half the water that made up her body because of the constant crying, it didn’t take long for the scar to close. When she first stepped foot in the big city by the seaside, Curly showed up right in front of her. Just in human form. Big eyes, long black hair and puppy manners, her neighbour was definitely sent to her by something greater. Eunbi was obsessed. It didn’t show at first, her pride prevailing. But it was harder and harder to fight against it. Jeongguk was simply too easy to love.

They became inseparable. Wherever he was, better believe she was there too, attached at his hip. And if they showed up alone, people would naturally ask about the other. Because the moon is never seen without its stars, and sunflowers only ever turn to face the sun. Their bond could be perceived by anyone as unbreakable, a friendship to envy and wish for, and every brick that built it had resulted in the creation of their own safe haven that only had space to contain the two of them. Not anybody else could be let in, the bubble exclusively recognised their password. It wasn’t composed of words, or numbers. It was the look of understanding they would share; the white lies used to cover the mischief of the other; their own handshake, accompanied by an original friendship jingle that Eunbi came up with randomly; the assurance that they could reveal their biggest secrets to one another, and they’d be kept like an oath.

There’s many of those that Eunbi shamelessly revealed to Jeongguk, some with intent and others unleashed spontaneously during their many endless talks. But when she thinks of it, she never admitted the single one that really mattered, the one that her best friend in the whole world needed to know, and remember. At all times. In any circumstance. It wasn’t a secret, it was more a result of her pondering; it came to a full reasonable thought only years later, and by then it was too late to tell him.

Eunbi thinks, and she’s sure, Jeongguk was the reason why all that came before the two of them had to happen. If it didn’t, she would have spent her whole life looking for that missing puzzle piece: under the cushions of the couch, in between her bed sheets, accidentally thrown away in the bin. It was as if all the hardships she experienced were justified, because at the end of the tunnel Jeongguk was waiting for her. And everything finally made sense. The puzzle was complete. Jeongguk was the reason himself. He was sent to teach her an important lesson: everything happens for a reason. There’s a cause and an effect, and even if the cause was suffering, at least the effect was her favourite boy.

Then, a gust of wind had wiped the puzzle to the ground, every single piece losing its place. When her best friend was taken away from her, she stopped being so convinced with the thought she herself had harboured, because she suddenly couldn’t find the meaning behind such a cruel fate. If everything really happened for a reason, then what was it? Jeongguk helped her see colours, only to return to black and white. Leaving him behind had marked the death of a version of herself that she would never get back.

Seoul was big, and harder to adjust to, even more with the baggage she was now dragging behind. Unpacking it, she found out all she had brought with her was a shattered trust and a soon to be broken promise to never get attached again. It was hard to be faithful to such an imposition, when Eunbi was born to give out love. It was hidden in that luggage, in between fears and regrets, but surely present.

And it prevailed in the end. Even at a slower pace, love found its way up and helped a lost Eunbi navigate the big capital city, promising new beginnings and healing. She found that in the faces of people that she would then start to recognise as friends, inside warm cafes during the coldest days of winter, and in the certainty that no matter where she is, she is always looking up at the same moon.

What she has built in Seoul so far feels the closest to stability that she has experienced in years. Starting university and meeting Dahye was the last bit of convincing it took to make her consider once again that a reason could exist, and that in the end it would make sense. Maybe not totally. Maybe just partly is enough after all.

Until, seeing a pair of familiar starry eyes in the midst of dull ones was all she needed to firmly believe in what she had been finding hard to accept. It took one shared look for past and present to get blurred together, and the mixture of old with new feelings created a mess. It was nice, nonetheless. Better than the seemingly impossible to get rid of emptiness at the pit of her heart.

Behind her eyes, Eunbi could see the puzzle slowly reaching its final form again, this time with more missing pieces, but the image was at least recognisable. When Jeongguk showed up in front of her again like magic, she contemplated becoming religious. Getting to her knees and starting praying to whatever greater force was shining on her path to please keep doing that. None of that showed on the outside, her smile breaking and mirroring the expression on the boy’s face. Pure sorrow. She knew she was probably the last person on earth Jeongguk wanted to see, and the fact that he wasn’t even trying to mask it didn’t help.

The most rational response she could come up with at that moment was to act as if nothing ever happened. And then, the bricks that a long time ago held together their safe bubble were being used by the boy to raise a high wall between them, making sure accessing his space would be impossible for Eunbi. Who could blame him? Still, the happiness she shamelessly felt when Jeongguk showed up at her 20th birthday party was too consuming, she selfishly wished for the rest of her birthdays to always look like that as she blew the candles. Nonetheless, when he suddenly left sprinting on his bike she knew the gods would need time to grant her desire. Although, this time around she had faith.

She doesn’t know how long it would take for it to break, though. September getting closer and closer only means that Jeongguk’s birthday is just around the corner. As part of his friend group, she had been involved in the process that led to organising the surprise camping trip, even if she didn’t exactly participate. After all, she doesn’t get to say she knows the boy better than anyone, anymore. Jeongguk has evidently changed, and as a consequence she knows way less about him than the others.

For that exact reason, Eunbi had made various attempts to back down from the trip, fearing her presence could significantly ruin it for the celebrated boy. At first, she tried to be casual about it with Dahye, since she’s the only one she’s opened up to about the whole dilemma, “I think it’s better if I don’t come. After all, it’s a friend trip. I’m not really his friend.” To which her roommate only replied with bullshit, proceeding to type away on her keyboard. That did not help whatsoever.

Then, the night she was too tipsy to take a taxi back home and Jeongguk had offered her a ride on his bike, she came home with a smile on her face only to burst out crying in front of a just as drunk Dahye. In between sobs, she begged to be left out of the trip, “Ple- Please, Dahye. He hates me. I can’t stand it.” Her friend tried to shush her whines, pushing Eunbi’s head on her chest and consoling her, “He doesn’t, baby. I’m sure he doesn’t.”

As a result of that night, Dahye had then sat her friend down with the intent of fully convincing her to be present for Jeongguk’s birthday trip for a number of reasons, “It would be rude to not show up after he was there for your birthday. And also, what if you two end up talking about… things! And everything gets solved! That would be nice, wouldn’t it, Bibi?”

Eunbi had just nodded all the way through the motivating speech, not really understanding nor believing her words, but apparently they were enough to lead her to the present moment: awkwardly squished between Dahye and Jimin on the couch of her flat, while they animatedly converse with the others to approve on the trip schedule. She has never felt so out of place before, not only because she doesn’t feel like she has a say in the whole discussion, but also because as time went by the two friends by her side kept shifting to subtly get closer to one another, not realising they were compressing her body in the process. To the point she is forced to get up, the position she was in being too uncomfortable, and sit on the ground under the couch next to Namjoon.

She can feel her movements being followed by a pair of curious eyes, and when she looks up to meet them, she finds out they belong to the origin of all her worries. Before Jeongguk can divert his attention elsewhere, aware he was caught observing, she gives him a quick tight lipped smile. It goes dismissed, as if it hadn’t happened. Ouch. It’s okay, Eunbi can take it. She used the few days prior to this to mentally prepare. She knows she’s not exactly welcomed anywhere near him, that’s why she made a silent secret pact within herself: whatever happens during the trip, don’t be a bother to Jeongguk. Stay away from him as much as possible, and if not possible, then do anything to avoid putting that frown on his face, exactly the one he’s sporting right now. On a second thought, if just looking at her gets him to react like that, maybe it’s best to mentally wipe that off her list of things to keep in mind for Jeongguk’s birthday camping trip.

With there still being a day left before their minibreak takes off, the girl can already tell it’s going to be hard to follow the flow of that list, Jeongguk making it obvious her presence could have been avoided before the vacation has even started. Still, she remains composed and brushes off what had just happened, instead focusing on the main topic of conversation.

The group (Hoseok) has decided to meet to go over the schedule one last time because, “Everything needs to be perfect, guys. We can’t afford to slip!” It’s still Hoseok talking. Eunbi learned that he had always been the one in charge of organising events and little getaways when it came to the friend group, his obsession with keeping everything under control coming in handy in such scenarios.

Not only that, but the reddish haired guy is also amazingly quick on his feet, and in a relatively short amount of time he has managed to find the perfect excursions and experiences to go over during the trip, making sure every day spent together would be filled with fun activities that he knows the birthday boy is going to look forward to. In between what he has arranged there is cycling, canoeing, trekking, and more stuff that Eunbi can’t keep up with. Surviving this is going to be made ten times harder by the amount of energy that is going to be expected out of her. She sighs at the thought, looking down at her manicured nails. She just got them done, and now they would surely break.

It takes a few seconds for her to realise the sudden silence that fell above the room, and when she looks back up she’s met with eleven pairs of eyes staring at her. She straightens her posture, suddenly too aware of being perceived, and she deduces her previous exhale had been released with more energy than intended. Hoseok sweetly smiles at her, “Anything you don’t agree on, Eunbi?”

The panicked girl opens her mouth to justify herself, her eyes getting wider and shinier with embarrassment, but Dahye beats her to it, “Bibi, didn’t you say you, like, hate cycling? I’m sure we had a whole conversation about it.“

Eunbi is mortified. Her eyes jump from Dahye to Jeongguk, trying to get her best friend to shut up while also registering the boy’s scoff and muted roll of his eyes. Oh god. Her whole be-lowkey-and-make-yourself-unnoticed plan just shattered in a matter of seconds. She can feel Jeongguk’s eyes bore flaming holes into her skull, his arms crossed and his legs furtherly stretching out on the armchair. If she still had a small, tiny hope left that he didn’t fully hate her, she just witnessed that shattering in pieces too.

She quickly shifts to sit on her heels, her hands frantically shaking to try and save her face for what she could, “No, what? I love cycling. Seriously, I’d do it everyday if I could.” She chuckles shakily while subtly shoving Dahye’s knee next to her to signal going with the lie. At first, Dahye looks clearly confused: she was so sure of that information about her roommate. She furrows her brows, looking down at a panicky Eunbi widening her eyes. It takes only a few more seconds for her to suddenly get it, shaking herself from her doubts and catching the ball, “Oh, right! You do! I got it confused with, huh… something else.” The girl mutters that last part only to join her friend in a nervous laugh, and an apologetic smile. Best believe Dahye is going to hear about this later.

Hoseok looks just as puzzled as the others, but nonetheless he nods, announcing the schedule has been officially confirmed. A collective acclaim fills the room, only for the boy to stop it with a raise of his pointer finger, “Now, I will assign you guys in your respective cars.” Which is comically followed by a joint groan, and some protests. Hoseok ignores them, and goes on reading off his perfectly planned out Word document.

”Namjoon is the first driver, and he’s travelling with Iseul, Seokjin and Sora,” he looks up to briefly check with the mentioned members to see if there are any complaints, then proceeds. “We’ve got Yoongi with me, Aera and Taehyung. Then…” Hoseok squints his eyes while scrolling down the document, and those few seconds of silence are enough for Eunbi’s thoughts to anticipate what is about to follow. She lowers her head, unwilling to meet Jeongguk’s glare when Hoseok says, “Jeongguk is driving with Jimin, Dahye and Eunbi. All set?”

The positive response is quick, even too rushed and disregardful of what was said, as Namjoon and Taehyung have been impatiently begging for the never-ending organising to be over so they could order food and finally fill their starved stomachs. No one pays any mind to it, but Eunbi and Jeongguk stay quiet, while Jimin and Dahye share a knowing look. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

The evening is spent in the cramped living room of Eunbi and Dahye’s shared flat, eating pizza and letting a random movie play, which soon only functioned as a background noise the moment Taehyung started a game of Would You Rather. Even if Yoongi initially shushed him, everyone eventually became more delighted with Seokjin’s unthinkable suggestions than with the film, “Would you rather be trapped in a small room with 10,000 tarantulas for 10 minutes, or eat 10 tarantulas in 10 minutes?”

Eunbi tries to let herself be distracted by the content smiles on her friends’ faces, even feels less distressed when she notices Jeongguk relaxing as well, but that doesn’t stop her mind from overflowing with all the things that could potentially go wrong. It inevitably shows on her face, and in her unusual quietness. She has been pondering on the last information Hoseok had shared about the confirmed schedule for hours now, worrying it was going to start the trip on the wrong foot. There were all the best intentions to not poke the sleeping bear, but she fears being in the same car as him is going to stir him awake.

After the group leaves the apartment at past 1 a.m., Hoseok checking with everyone that they’ll show up at 8 sharp tomorrow morning in front of the same building they’re now parting ways from, Eunbi releases a long sigh as she closes the door behind her shoulders. Dahye catches the look on her features immediately, taking her pretty face in between her palms, “I’m sorry for earlier. I was trying to help.” She pouts, and it makes the shorter girl chuckle.

Eunbi shakes her head, dismissing her apology with a small it’s okay, and freeing herself from her friend’s hold so as to avoid meeting her eyes, instead busying herself with tidying up the mess in the living room. Her flatmate looks at the strangely silent girl narrowly, “What are you thinking? Please, don’t let it be something stupid like I don’t wanna drive in Jeongguk’s car.”

When all Dahye is met with is silence, she knows that specific something stupid is flowing in the other girl’s head. Eunbi spends the next hour packing and letting Dahye think she’s wholly convincing her distressed roommate nothing could go wrong from just being close to each other, and if anything, it could be a starting point.

For the sake of getting at least three hours of sleep before the long drive ahead, Eunbi fake promises her friend that she won’t let such thoughts haunt her mind and stop her from enjoying the holiday (she was forced to repeat those exact words) knowing she’s going to let them do precisely that. She also ends up staying awake all night either way, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse that she can use to ask Hoseok if a small change would be possible, hoping it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle to him and his perfect plan.

When the following morning rolls around, the group gathers in the courtyard of the flat complex as instructed hours earlier by Hoseok, who looks like he’s on the verge of a serious crisis when it’s one minute past 8 a.m. and Taehyung still hasn’t shown up. Eunbi fears for her life when she taps his shoulder as delicately as she can, still unable to avoid a jumpy reaction from the boy, who then relaxes when he sees the girl’s sweet smile. That lasts for about one second, because when Eunbi softly asks him if they can talk he’s back to puffing out panicky breaths.

She hesitates a moment before uttering in one single exhale, “I’d rather not go in Jeongguk’s car.” Faced with Hoseok’s perplexed stare, she goes on explaining in a rushed, messy speech, “It’s nothing personal, really. It’s just- Iseul! Yeah, Iseul begged me to be in the car with Dahye… She doesn’t know Sora that well so she said it would be way too awkward. I can go with Namjoon!” She ends it by trying to sport a convincing grin on her lips, but with the way it looks like she’s being held at gunpoint to smile it’s doing the exact opposite, not helping in hiding her own panic at all.

Hoseok takes a few seconds to process her request and read her expression, but in the end he just shrugs and nods enthusiastically, “That’s okay!” He then claps his hands twice, recalling the others’ attention who comically snap their heads in unison, hanging on the boss’ lips, “Tiny change. Eunbi doesn’t wanna be in Jeongguk’s car, so she’s going with Namjoon.”

For the second time in under 24 hours, Eunbi is so embarrassed she prays the ground to swallow her whole. Hoseok doesn’t seem to be making a big deal out of the way he worded his announcement, busy typing away on his phone, probably updating his Word document with the recent change. The others don’t look too fazed either, accustomed with the two infamously not being too fond of each other for no apparent reason, except for Dahye and Jimin: the former is looking at the girl incredulously; the latter has shifted his attention to his best friend.

Eunbi can feel cold sweat dripping down her forehead, the weight of the world crushing on her shoulders. She’s afraid to follow Jimin’s line of vision, but as she slowly does, it leads her to meet Jeongguk’s intense gaze, a slight pissed scowl hardening his features along with his brows almost meeting at the bridge of his nose. His all black attire composed of an oversized t-shirt, cargo bermuda shorts and chunky sandals matches perfectly with the look on his face. He seems confused, and unnerved. And sad? This is not how things were supposed to unfold.

Under such pressure, the girl impulsively releases a nervous laugh, her whole face red with awkwardness, “It’s not like I didn’t- Okay! I’ll just go wait in the car.” Her head hangs as she distances herself from the group, finding an escape from Jeongguk’s disappointment in Namjoon’s car. She bangs her head on the dashboard a few times, making the most of the last minutes alone she’s getting before departure.

Starring in that shitshow was not on her list of things to keep in mind for Jeongguk’s birthday camping trip in any way. On the contrary, what she has been trying to do is going by the rules of the list itself: stay away from Jeongguk and don’t be a bother. Instead, the opposite seems to be happening every time she attempts to be nice to him so as to not be a hassle during the trip. Releasing a shaky breath, she hopes her intentions wouldn’t be misinterpreted by the boy, as she tries foolishly convincing herself the telepathy between them still exists, at least to a small extent. She was only doing this for him. To make it easier for him. Please, please send this telepathic message to Jeongguk.

Connection probably isn’t working too well, because when they all get to the destination after a fairly long ride, Jeongguk still looks pissed, shutting the car door with more energy than required and unloading the luggages, taking his and Iseul’s to the entrance of the camping site. Eunbi narrows her eyes as she observes the scene, the short haired girl thanking the previously annoyed boy and effortlessly putting a smile on his lips, and she almost doesn’t notice Namjoon urging her to move. She abruptly shakes herself out of that trance, relaxing her hands that had subconsciously closed into fists, and takes her bags out of the car. As she clumsily drags them on both of her shoulders, her Converses do little to protect her soles from the rocky ground, and she groans. It’s not like she was expecting Namjoon to carry her baggage, she can do it herself. But as she keeps watching Jeongguk easily handling all that weight, she huffs.

The campsite looks amazing. The space that the group has at their disposal is huge and wholly surrounded by nature, making it the perfect getaway from the chaos of the city. Not too far, in between trees, a glimpse of the sun reflecting its rays in a large lake can be caught. Eunbi witnesses an excellently carried out jam session, with the lively enthusiasm of her friends on microphone, birds on percussion and cicadas on bass. She smiles, and sighs contentedly. Dahye’s words from last night echo in her head, don’t let this stop you from enjoying the holiday, and today she wants to believe them. She’s glad she chose to wear jeans shorts instead of cargos, the heat slowly but surely rising, and a flowy white top that keeps her fresh, for now.

Hoseok instructs them to get to work, and they do. All their bags are gathered under a big ancient tree as each couple and trio starts (tries) setting their tents. While they’re busy figuring out how to ensure the tent won’t fly away, which Taehyung fears particularly, Jimin and Jeongguk offer themselves to go and fill everyone’s water flask at a nearby drinking fountain they had found. Eunbi kneels down to fish hers out of a blue backpack and goes to hand it out to Jeongguk, who’s collecting Dahye’s bottle. The boy smiles at her friend, but it gets wiped off when he shifts his gaze on Eunbi’s shorter figure. The moment is brief, and awkward: her big unsure eyes stare into his hardened ones, arm extended out to him, wondering if there might be something funny on her face for him to turn so serious; she hesitantly lifts her brows, waiting for something; Jeongguk looks her up and down, only to not acknowledge her water flask, and just walks past her.

Eunbi is dumbfounded, the tip of her ears reddening as she remains paralysed with her hand out, even after Jimin collects her flask, muttering something close to Don’t mind him, please accompanied by an apologetic smile. She regains consciousness of her surroundings only when, beside her, Dahye can’t help the snort coming out of her mouth, trying but failing to save it with her hand. The still shocked girl slowly turns to face her amused friend, mouth slightly agape and left eye clearly twitching, “Did he just… act as if I don’t exist.”

The situation shouldn’t be funny, but to Dahye it’s the peak of comedy as she keeps giggling the more the slow realisation of what has just happened shows on Eunbi’s features. Obviously, the latter can’t find one single reason to laugh about it, whining while the taller girl pats her shoulder, still smiling, “You really need to talk to him.”

The targeted girl ignores that, biting her nails nervously, ”Was he saying anything about… me, in the car?”

Dahye lifts her brows, shaking her head, ”Nothing. He’s probably talking shit about you with Jimin, though.” Eunbi follows her pointed finger and catches Jeongguk animatedly discussing with his flatmate, balancing the bottles in his arms, before they turn a corner. Eunbi fusses, lightly tugging on her braided pigtails, and she feels helpless as even the friend who’s supposed to be supporting her through all of this is chuckling at her. Despite being shorter, when Eunbi shoves Dahye’s shoulder she manages to make her stumble, but that doesn’t stop her laughs, though.

”You’re building the tent on your own.” Arms crossed and pout on, Eunbi isn’t joking as she goes to sit under the tree surrounded by bags and ignores her name being called out. Rather than reacting to it, she spots tiny bugs between the grass and inspects them for a while, pretending it keeps her distracted from what’s plaguing her mind. Soon after, with her knees to her chest, watching those ants working to transfer food from one side to the other inevitably gets her lost in her thoughts. What is she doing wrong? There’s clearly unresolved problems between her and the boy who brutally ignored her existence minutes ago, but she thought maybe if she started seeking for truce, then he would too. His response, instead, makes her realise no matter how much she tries, it’s apparently not enough to mend what happened all those years ago. She messed up worse than imagined.

The constant pondering makes her lose track of time, and she comes back to reality with undesired outcomes that she convinces herself to be true. When she recovers from the (as she has deduced, deserved) humiliation, Dahye has already set up half of the tent and Eunbi walks over to her bashfully, “Sorry for being childish. I’ll finish this, Hye.” The girl just smiles softly and nods, sending her a flying kiss that makes Eunbi chuckle before taking her previous spot under the tree. At least Dahye doesn’t hate her.

It takes her a while to figure out what to do but she soon grasps how hard a seemingly simple task can be, feeling bad for letting Dahye do a great part of it on her own. Still, she needs to work fast as lunch time is approaching, and everybody around her is almost finished. She has been crouching on a particular spot on the ground for a while now, trying to properly secure an angle of the tent unsuccessfully. Until she groans exasperated, puffing her hair out of her vision and lifting her body up to find a solution. She tries stomping on it a few times, but it doesn’t work, and if anything it worsens the situation. Huffing out, with her hands on her hips she looks around for help, and the first person her eyes fall on is Jeongguk.

He was already staring at her, comfortably sitting on a deckchair with his legs spread and sunglasses on. His tent looks perfectly set already, with Jimin seemingly fixing the inside of it. His hand is covering his mouth before he uses it to lift his glasses over his head, and is that a smirk? They both stare at each other in silence, Eunbi still struggling to breathe, and she hesitates slightly until her eagerness to be over with the tent becomes stronger. She speaks up to make herself heard over the small distance, “Can you- help me?”

Jeongguk narrows her eyes at her, initially not answering but not even moving from his relaxed position. The girl is ready to be met with silence again, but it’s something worse when he opens his mouth, “I think Namjoon would be happy to do that.” He’s as stern as ever as he returns the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, furtherly spreading his whole body on the chair and facing the sun. Only then, he releases a content sigh, smiling slightly.

All of this cannot be real. What does that even mean? Eunbi can feel her eye start to twitch again and she needs to clench her jaw to stop it. It’s okay. Breathe. She unexpectedly but successfully manages to hold herself from exploding on him, both overwhelmed with tent building and frustrated with his behaviour. She can’t really decipher what led him to not only act cold, as he usually is with her, which is fine, but also mean! But no problem, she’ll try once again. It costs nothing to be nice. And she tells herself she’ll stay that way, even if she’s met with the opposite, until he breaks.

The storm of negative emotions tormenting her thoughts can be distortedly seen as a good thing on one side, if she considers that the sudden adrenaline flowing in her body gets her through most of the task without any help, even mindlessly, while she keeps reflecting on the interaction and the previous ones. Why the fuck would Namjoon be happy to help her? Well, he would, he’s naturally a helper, but why did Jeongguk say that? Is he really that pissed about her going in his car? She tries to understand, she really does. Keep being nice is what she tells herself instead.

When the tent is finally up, only with Dahye’s finishing touches, and food is finally in her stomach, refilling her energy tank, it’s like there’s a switch going off in her head, making it seem as if nothing bad has ever happened. Eunbi is back to her talkative self with a full tummy and a bashful grin while her best friend teases her for the earlier tantrum she went on about, but at least it’s all smiles again.

The first day at the campsite is spent basking in the slowness that follows after ticking off the only two activities planned for today on Hoseok’s schedule: setting their tents and preparing meals for lunch and dinner. The boss then instructs the group on just getting acquainted with their surroundings, and they don’t need to be told twice, making the most out of those short remaining moments of ease.

The rest of those hours are used to laze by the huge lake, in between swims and sunbathes. Luckily, Eunbi had packed a few bikinis and she chose to wear a black set, its laces meeting at the back with a bow. Sitting back and taking it easy, before all that she will be faced with the next few days, gives her a chance to get closer to the others. During the earlier drive, she had the opportunity to chat with Sora and discover the sweetheart she truly is, and the car was then easily filled with laughter, mostly provided by Namjoon and Seokjin’s terrible jokes. She now sits by Sora on a beach towel, all the other girls in a circle catching up and laying by the sun. In the back of their gossip session, the boys could be heard laughing and squealing, and the sound reminded Eunbi of sweet childhood. She briefly shifts her attention to them and smiles when she observes how they’re doing the most to tire their energy out, from using a rope hanging by the branch of a tree to leap into the water, to initiating a volleyball match using one of their rolled up towels.

Eunbi grows even fonder than before of the people she’s surrounded with, the earlier stress leaving her body and being replaced by serenity, a small sigh released from her lips before she returns to listen to the girls’ chat. She laughs at something Dahye says and jumps on it excitedly, making the others chuckle at the two friends eagerly recounting one of their craziest uni experiences so far.

All of it is short lived when Taehyung and Jimin suddenly drop a water balloon over their heads, a collective gasp filling the space followed by the two boys’ childish giggles and Dahye’s screams, getting up to run after them. They all spend the rest of the afternoon trying to get back at each other with more pranks, bathing in the lake’s cold water and taking silly group pictures to seal the day. As the sun begins to set, they all sit on their towels and silently observe nature, definitely too tired to speak, and preferring to savour the sweet moment.

When the sun finally leaves its place for the moon to rise and the group of friends gets back to their tents, their stomachs growling signal it’s time for dinner. They take turns to shower using the nearby public structure and then help setting a campfire to cook. It also works as a very needed source of heat, given the temperature has significantly dropped and their bodies are still humid from washing up. Eunbi wears the grey cargos she had discarded earlier this morning when deciding on what to put on, and a white tee, her damp hair falling on her shoulders and making her feel slightly chilly. She comes up beside Yoongi to help him with the meat, benefiting from the warmth of the fire.

There’s not much talk between the two, only the older boy advising her to be careful of the flames every two minutes, but it’s comfortable. Eunbi still has a hard time reading through Yoongi, and maybe it’s what she enjoys the most about him: his aura is soothing and it exudes security. He doesn’t exactly show it, but he’s deeply attentive and caring of his friends, and the girl feels safe next to him. She can sense him looking over at her while the meat is cooking, and as she turns to him she meets his eyes with a smile. He ponders, scanning her face “You got sunburnt. You need to wear sunscreen tomorrow, or it’ll get worse.”

Eunbi chuckles, dragging her pointer finger up and down her red nose, “Yeah, I know. It kinda hurts but it looks like I have natural blush now!”

Yoongi shakes his head with a small amused scoff, “That’s stupid, Eunbi. Wait for me here, I’ll go get you an after-sun cream.” And even as he walks off, he reminds her to not stay too close to the fire. She thinks that’s an exact demonstration of what the boy is truly like in her head.

The girl keeps grilling the meat, humming unknown melodies under her breath, and she almost misses a broad figure sitting on one of the chairs surrounding the fire. When she looks up, it’s Jeongguk avoiding her eyes and instead staring at the flames, their light reflecting in his big orbs and making them shinier. He wears his bermudas from earlier, but he now has a grey Stussy hoodie on top of it. His locks are still wet after freshly coming out of a shower, and they curl on his forehead, making him look like a poodle. She smiles. It’s like 15 years old Jeongguk is there with her again, his bare, exhausted face and droopy eyes taking her back to Busan. Without even realising what she’s doing, she extends a cooked piece of meat his way, “You want some?”

Startled, the boy breaks from his spacing-out and registers the request. He looks between Eunbi and the meat, gulping. He licks his lips, and she swears she can also hear his stomach rumbling. When he keeps ogling the food without replying, she wiggles the fork and his eyes follow its every movement, as if hypnotised. Then, he suddenly screws his eyelids shut and breaks from the trance, simply shaking his head no and fishing his phone out of his pocket, mindlessly scrolling on it. Just like that, she’s back to the present, and Jeongguk hates her. Eunbi narrowly glares at him while he can’t see her.

Yoongi comes back soon after with two different creams in his hands, and he gives them to Eunbi with a chuckle. She thanks him and lets him take over the cooking, while she curiously inspects the products, still standing next to the fire. When Yoongi spots his younger friend on the chair, he asks the same exact question as her, forking a piece of meat, “You want some?”

Jeongguk’s attention is back up, this time on Yoongi, and when he sees what his hyung is referring to he eagerly nods. Eunbi interrupts her examination just in time to see the boy hungrily shoving the food in his mouth, brows furrowed and praising noises accompanying his munching, making the older friend by her side chuckle. Instead, the girl is once again in disbelief, even more as he watches Jeongguk patting his knee with force, satisfied with the bite, “Hyung, this shit is so good. I want more.”

Eunbi scoffs imperceptibly, leaving the scene with an annoyed scowl wrecking her pretty features. As she enters her tent, she’s glad Dahye is still showering as she makes the most of that isolating moment. She sighs wearily and whips out her phone. Using its camera, she tries to ignore her tumbling emotions and instead puts on the creams Yoongi had given her, but not even those are enough to distract her. She’s still incredulous at what she’s being put through, her patience wearing thin, and the pact she made with herself before coming here is dangerously close to being broken.

Dinner is spent with good food and even better people, and only then Eunbi visibly untenses again. In between bites and full mouths, they go from discussing random facts to casually engaging in games of Truth or Dare or Never Have I Ever, the beer bottles slowly being emptied while their tummies get filled. When they’re done eating, the relaxed smiles on their faces implicitly communicate how the meal has been the perfect ending to the lovely day spent together. Still, they stay by the fire and keep up an effortless chat. When one of them comments on the limpidity of the sky, its stars being perfectly visible in this zone of Seoul, they all look up and stare in silence at the fullness of the lights.

Even if it’s not too late, the weariness from being out in the sun for multiple consecutive hours is weightening down on most of them, Seokjin and Sora retiring to their tents, soon after being followed by Yoongi and Hoseok.

It’s a little past midnight, and Eunbi starts to feel more and more affected by the cool breeze, its effects showing on her prickled skin. She tries to warm herself up by rubbing her exposed arms with her hands, but it’s to no avail, “God, I’m so cold.”

A collective agreement follows her claim, with Iseul speaking up and curling herself into a ball on the deckchair she’s sitting on by taking her legs up to her chest and hugging them close, “Me too, it’s freezing.”

”Oh, I have a spare hoodie.” Both girls snap their heads at the voice, which belongs to Jeongguk. However, as he quickly gets up to retrieve the sweater from his tent, it’s not clear who between the two he’s referring to, their curious expectant eyes following his every movement. Eunbi has her reasons to feel so eager, given the fact that she has been begging for one nice interaction with the boy, a spark of hope lighting up in her chest at his offer. On the other hand, she doesn’t know why the other girl seems equally excited, twirling her short hair around her fingers as she waits for Jeongguk to come out of the tent again. She huffs, a pout ending on her features.

When the sought-after boy gets back with a blueish crewneck in his arms, both girls hold their breaths, the sudden tension going unnoticed by the others (except for Dahye, she’s like a psychic when it comes to her best friend’s emotions), until Jeongguk lays the piece of clothing on Iseul’s shoulders, coming behind her and then sitting on his chair again.

Iseul bashfully thanks him, the tips of her ears seemingly reddening while a sweet, alluring smile makes its way on her lips. Eunbi scoffs at that, and if looks could kill Iseul would be dead right now. The dirty look she sends her way luckily goes unnoticed, and she keeps hugging her own body trying to provide herself with warmth. When she shifts her attention to Jeongguk, he’s already looking at her, smirking. She can’t be convinced he isn’t doing all this on purpose.

Even with her teeth almost chattering, the neglected girl forces herself to stay with the others until the end, and with Namjoon and Taehyung retiring to sleep only six of them remain. Under a white full moon, the conversation doesn’t really follow a clear direction, steering from existential questions that none really have the answers to, to Jimin’s drunken adventures. Jeongguk giddily joins the recounting and adds many details to it, specifically highlighting the embarrassing parts that his roommate is trying to omit to save face, and making all of his friends laugh with their whole chest, Eunbi included. She simply can’t ignore the fact that he’s naturally charming, and hilarious as well. In the middle of his storytelling, his whole body gets involved and it makes the events seem even more impressive. Eunbi smiles when she compares the Jeongguk in front of her to the beloved one in her past, the one that would sit her down and force her to keep up with his running imagination, constantly up with new ideas for silly scripts.

Then it’s Dahye’s turn to share one of her experiences, and Eunbi inevitably gets thrown into the tale, which had seen the two friends drunkenly sneaking themselves into a concert. It’s like they’re perfectly mirroring Jimin and Jeongguk’s dynamic, because while Dahye is trying to leave out critical parts of the story, Eunbi strongly insists on specifying them with an unseen emphasis for 1 a.m., causing everybody to laugh along. In between chuckles, her eyes fall on Jeongguk, who is mindlessly scrolling on his phone and seemingly not paying attention. Throughout the recounting, she notices Jeongguk distractly listening but never laughing, and if he does it’s only after something said by Dahye. Slowly, the enthusiasm gets wiped off her face as she curls up on the chair, sulkily letting her friend finish telling the story.

Another hour of effortless conversation goes by, and Jeongguk is back to lively chatting again, his animated gestures and witty jokes getting laughter out of his friends, but this time Eunbi doesn’t join. She silently sets on observing the boy, despite being caught a few times. She really wants to understand the reason behind his behaviour, but there’s no factual explanation she can come up with other than the obvious reasons that put them in this situation in the first place. If that’s the case, there’s nothing much she can do other than going up to him and finally talking it out like the mature adults they should be, but with their petty, silent bickering she doesn’t think that’s happening any soon.

While she’s busy squinting her eyes at the boy, in a borderline creepy manner, she doesn’t notice Iseul crouching in half in laughter at something Jeongguk said, until she’s directly referring to her, “Oh god, Eunbi! Why did you never tell me Jeongguk was this funny?” Said girl is startled by the question and by the abrupt interruption that shakes her out of her trance, confusion written on her face and it must be evident with the way Iseul goes on explaining, “Dahye told me you’ve known him for a long time.”

All at once, the atmosphere is tense and maybe Iseul and Aera can’t feel it, but Dahye definitely can as she snaps her head to her friend, who’s staring directly into Jeongguk’s eyes. The two seem to be battling an unnamed war through eye contact, and the intensity of the boy’s gaze ignites something implacable in the girl’s chest, dangerously close to rage, and it has to do with all the feelings she’s had to bottle up in less than 24 hours. She scoffs, referring to Iseul but never breaking the staring contest with the boy, “Oh, is he? Don’t think I’m well acquainted with that side of him yet.”

If the tension wasn’t palpable to everyone before the comment, it surely is now, the only ones that have something left to say being the crickets and owls in the background. Jeongguk only snickers before washing a hand over his face, an unsettling smirk on his lips. He seems to finally acknowledge the other girl’s presence, but it’s not in the way Eunbi initially imagined it would go. Instead, it’s venom spitting out of his mouth, “You would've been if you weren’t so self centred, always wrapped in your own bubble all the fucking time.”

Eunbi's confidence falls as quick as her heart, a sudden force weighing on it and almost crushing it. She’s fast at hiding it, ignoring the slight sting she can sense in the back of her eyelids, her only goal is to shoot harder. She forces the fakest smile she can muster, “Self centred? Are you sure you're talking about me?” The affronted girl scoffs, loud and sarcastic, “Fuck, and I thought you'd know better than that, Jeongguk. You should try getting your head out of your ass and look around. Maybe you'd see how shitty you've been treating all of us-” me “-for these past weeks.”

Jeongguk is visibly taken aback, and it’s his heart falling this time, his face following suit. His broken features do little to hide the doubts plaguing his spiralling mind. Had he pushed it too far? Had he been actually so bad to his own friends? Seeing his contender’s face relaxing with victory makes him snap out of the sudden trance, as he regains consciousness fast. No, he hasn’t. Fuck this. Blinded by anger, he utters the unimaginable, “Speak for yourself when you say shit like that. As far as I'm concerned, I've been treating you fairly seeing the bitch you are.”

His eyes are as pitch as black, the stars in them that Eunbi would love to get lost into are unreachable now, almost as if a dark cloud had obscured them. It must be the pollution that's taking over his heart too.

She’s frozen in place as the cruel words echo in her mind, the force that was keeping her heart underwater had managed to crush it, and it was now coming up her throat, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Her ears ring with the sudden lack of oxygen, and she can only faintly hear Dahye’s raging comments coming in her defence against Jeongguk. She can only seem to focus on the cracking of the fire, though, its thumping noise suddenly unbearable, as she feels more and more engulfed in its flames. She forces all sounds to come back to her, strongly pulling herself out of her own plagued head, the boy in front of her now unrecognisable to her empty eyes.

Looking around, she notices all of her friends — his, after all — had gone extremely quiet, the pressure weighing on them too. She can't stand it, needs to get out. She wishes she had never agreed to this. So much for keeping her peace. Yet, she'll never give him the satisfaction of knowing how much that hurt her. She'll die before crying in front of him.

“Well, if you don't mind, the bitch has had enough now, so with all due respect, she's going to sleep.” With a forced tight lipped smile, she gets up in one fast movement and walks to her tent, leaving the others disoriented, and a still furious Dahye scoffing at Jeongguk. He follows her with his eyes until she disappears in her shelter, clenching his jaw and announcing his departure soon after.

Inside the tent, Eunbi takes several deep breaths trying to calm down, and she feels frail when she can sense her eyes prickle with tears. She tells herself it’s angry ones. Apparently, being nice isn’t enough, and she watches as the seal to her pact shatters with force, signalling no come back. Following suit, the puzzle breaks once again, and she’s left scrambling for the pieces falling, looking for the one that will start it over again. And this time, it’s going to be even harder.

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 34

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Thanksgiving is just around the corner and Reader is planning Talia and Jamal's wedding when unexpected news happen.

Tags : Angst

TW : Mention of drug use - Mention of pregnancy

Author's Note : I hope you enjoy the chapter ❤️

Y/N’s POV

Ever since Marshall had informed you that Kim would be there for Thanksgiving, you were a little bit freaked out. However, you didn’t really bring up the topic, and neither did your boyfriend. After the conversation, you spent a few days pondering whether or not you should try and escape the situation. Not being American, Thanksgiving wasn’t important to you anyway so you wouldn’t mind skipping it or celebrating it the same way you had done since you came to the US - with Talia and Jamal. 

When you moved to Detroit, you quickly befriended Talia at the beginning of the school year. You were planning on spending your first Thanksgiving in your dorm room, on your own, watching a crappy movie and eating ramen, but she wouldn’t have it and invited you to spend the day with her, her boyfriend and her family. At first, you declined the invitation but she basically forced you to go and that’s how you met Jamal, as well as Talia’s mother and her three sisters. You got along with everyone and had an official, standing invitation for every holiday, your best friend’s family being just as warm and welcoming as her. Even when you were with your ex, you spent Thanksgiving with Talia. This year would be your first time celebrating it with someone else. When you told her about the change of plans, she was happy for you but made it clear that you would be missed. To be fair, you would miss them too. You didn’t know too much about how everyone else celebrated Thanksgiving, but Talia’s family certainly made it fun : everyone would spend the day cooking together in a relaxed atmosphere, making jokes, dancing to some 80s tunes and playing board games. 

You didn’t mind skipping this in order to celebrate with the man you loved, but knowing his ex-wife would be there certainly made you reconsider. However, he made it clear that he was looking forward to celebrating with you and told you how important it was for him that you be there. 

It’s a family holiday, he said. We’re officially living together, it doesn’t make sense to spend it apart, Y/N. We’re family, now. 

We’re still very new, you reminded him. What will your family think ? 

As far as they’re concerned, you can do no wrong, he chuckled. Apparently, they’re all relieved that my grumpy ass found someone who is actually willing to put up with me. And they all know and like you already. 

Except for your ex, you pointed out. 

Is that what it’s really about ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

You sighed and did not reply. Part of you thought that it was a good thing that Marshall and Kim were on friendly terms, for the sake of their daughters. It was a proof of maturity on their part and you had heard enough stories from your friends with divorced parents to know that it was actually a good thing. Everyone would like for their parents to be able to get along after a divorce. But being the partner of someone who was divorced made it a little challenging. After all, no one expected to spend a holiday with their boyfriend’s ex-wife, let alone relished the idea. 

I told you it will be fine, he said as he hugged you from behind while you were doing your skincare before bed. And it’s not just her, anyway. Everyone else will be there. 

Yes but she’s the only one I haven’t met yet, you said sheepishly. What if she hates me ? 

Why would she hate you ? He scoffed. 

Because I’m your girlfriend… Duh ? 

Look, Y/N, he said as he took your hands in his. Yes, Kim is my ex, and yes, we have a long and complicated history. But any form of romantic feeling between us is long gone. There won’t be any jealousy… On her part, at least. 

The end of his comment made you raise an eyebrow. 

You think I’m jealous of her ? You asked. 

I don’t know, he said with a smile. Are you ? 

I guess not, you shrugged. I do have many questions, though. 

So we’re gonna have that talk, huh ? He asked with a sigh. 

Do you mind ? 

No offense, babe, but even if I did… I know you well-enough to know that you’d toss and turn all night, and you'll drive yourself crazy and me as well. I love you, and I want to get some sleep tonight, so for both our sakes, let’s get this over with, he chuckled. 

Thank you, you said shyly as you felt your face redden a bit. 

You both sat in bed and you were nervously tugging on your nightgown, not really knowing where to start. 

I don’t have all night, though, he said playfully. Just ask your damn questions, babe. 

Did she sleep here ? You asked, as it was the first question that popped into your head - hell, maybe you were in her spot ! 

In this room or in this bed ? He asked. This is the master bedroom, so yeah, we slept here. The bed and mattress are new, though, if that’s any comfort. Next question ? 

Do you miss her, sometimes ? You asked nervously. 

He glanced at you and shook his head with a smile. 

What kind of question is that, Y/N ? He simply asked. Really ? You’re asking me if I miss her ? 

Can you blame me for wondering, though ? Everyone knows she’s the love of your life, your high-school sweetheart and stuff… 

Everyone also knows that our marriages were utter failures and that we drove each other crazy, he stated with an eye roll. 

So you never think about her ? You asked. 

That’s a different question. Of course I think about her often. 

Often ?! What the hell did he mean by that ? As he saw the expression on your face - that probably resembled that of a deer in headlights - he let out a laugh. 

I told you, babe, we have a history and three daughters, he said. Of course I think about her, whether it’s something about the girls or simply memories. I can’t erase twenty-plus years from my brain, you know ? But it doesn’t mean I miss her. I used to, for sure, but I don’t. Not anymore. You can think of the good times you had with someone without missing the relationship. 

I guess, you said. How do you feel about her now, then ? 

I mean… She’s the mother of my children and that will never change. In that regard, I respect her, because she’s doing her best to be a good mom, too. I might not always agree with her, in fact there’s a lot of shit we disagree on, but she’s high in my esteem. Also because she put up with a lot of me and my shit, he said. 

Do you have feelings for her ? You blurted out before you were able to hold back the words. 

As soon as you spoke these words, he frowned and shook his head. He sighed and took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers. 

I just told you I don’t miss her, he said. So no, I don’t have feelings for her. Not romantic, at least. I do have affection for her, though, in a way. I care for her and I don’t want anything bad happening to her. If she ever needs me, I’m here. I told you before - whether we like it or not, Kim and I will always be family. So I will always be there to support her. 

You nodded, a bit lost in your thoughts. He pulled you in his arms and leaned in, his forehead resting against yours while his piercing blue gaze held yours. 

I need you to understand something, baby, he said. Nothing I’m saying here affects the way I feel about you. Just because I care for Kim doesn’t mean I don’t love you. You are the woman I love and the one who makes me happy, and no one will change that. 

Ok, you said as you nodded softly. I love you too, you know ? 

And even if she did hate you, which she won’t, you’re the one person I chose to share my life with. Whether anyone likes it or not, you are my girl and they have to respect that. And I know she does, he said. 

Ok, you said. Does she know that we live together here ? 

She does, he  nodded. 

And that I’m… You know… Younger ? 

Yes, that too, he chuckled. I mean, I told her about you before so she knows a couple of things. She knows your name, your age, what you do in life, part of our story and, most of all, she knows I am head over heels in love with you. 

When did you tell her all that ? You asked, a bit surprised. 

I talked about you on a couple of occasions, he explained. When we got together, and a couple of months after our breakup, too. We don’t speak or see each other too often, but we keep up with each other’s life. 

He was smiling, which was sort of reassuring. His transparency made you feel at peace and, even though you were still a bit anxious, you eased up. You smiled back and kissed him on the cheek. 

Thank you for reassuring me, you said softly. I think you got yourself a night without me tossing and turning. 

Good, he chuckled. I get how weird it must be for you, you know ? But I’m sure everything will be fine. It’s just Thanksgiving. 

You smiled and nuzzled his neck as he held you in his arms, tracing circles on your shoulder. 

I love you, Marshall. 

I love you too, Y/N. And I’m really happy we’re celebrating our first holiday together, he added. 

That’s a milestone, you said. 

The first of many, many more, he said with a smile before pressing a kiss to your temple. 

So… What does a typical Thanksgiving look like in the Mathers household ? You asked. What should I expect ? 

Just classic Thanksgiving stuff, you know ? He shrugged. 

Well I only ever celebrated at Talia’s family’s, so… I don’t know, you chuckled. In my experience, it involves Talia’s mom preaching about how good God is and the blessings he gives, lots of cooking, lots of eating, board games and Talia’s sisters arguing over who Jamal prefers ! 

Sometimes I forget you’re not from here, he chortled. No preaching here, but lots of eating, just hanging out together, talking, watching movies, playing games… And I have my basketball tradition with Nate. 

Let me guess ? You usually win ? You asked with a grin. 

I lost the last one, actually, he chuckled. But I’ll definitely humiliate him this year. I have a lady to impress, I can’t lose. 

If you win, I’ll give you something to look forward to, you said teasingly. 

Like what ? He asked with a smirk. 

Win and you’ll see, you replied with a wink. 

I have an entire week left before the game, he said. Believe me, I’m going to train for victory. 

You giggled and kissed him softly before turning the lights off. You were a little reassured and figured that, even though your first Thanksgiving with him would be a bit stressful, you would get to admire him all sweaty on the basketball court and that would be absolutely worth it. 

In the week leading up to Thanksgiving, you were busy with wedding stuff and maid of honor duties. Talia and Jamal had yet to set a date for the wedding but that didn’t prevent your best friend from giving you tasks such as browsing ideas, looking at dress designers and searching for venues. You gladly obliged : you had sent out a few applications for jobs but you hadn’t gotten any answers yet and you were starting to get a bit bored. You would have gladly taken care of the house or garden, but there was staff hired for that and the only thing you could do to help around the house was to cook dinner for Marshall when he came back from work. You enjoyed it but it was clearly not enough to fill your days and you were starting to feel like one of those rich, bored housewives. Helping Talia with the wedding was a welcome distraction and you took the task with the utmost seriousness. You had always been a sucker for weddings and you knew full well it would be the only one you would get to organize so you decided to enjoy it. Every day after she got off from work, your friend would come to your place and your living room was soon filled with bridal magazines and moodboards for what was set to be the wedding of the century. Jamal’s work as a renowned beatmaker allowed them to have a very comfortable lifestyle and he had made clear that, whatever Talia wanted for the wedding, she would get. And she happened to have expensive taste, as well as a never-ending guest list. 

I will never find a venue, she loudly complained. I either hate the places we’re looking at, or they’re simply not big enough. 

You let out a sympathetic laugh. With the immense guest list they had, it was no surprise that finding a venue would be challenging. It seemed like every single person they had ever met would be invited. 

We will find something, you said with a smile. Or maybe you could try and shrink the guest list ? 

Jamal put you up to this, didn’t he ? She sighed. He keeps on telling me that we should keep it small. If it were up to him, we would elope… 

That could be super romantic, you know, you said tentatively. I mean… How many people on your guest list do you actually keep in touch with anyway ? 

I want my princess wedding, she said. You don’t know what it is. You’ll see when you get engaged ! 

I’m not getting married, you reminded her. Marshall doesn’t want to get married. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it. 

I can’t believe you’re willing to accept that, though, she said with an eye roll. You, of all people, not getting married ? 

You know I’m a sucker for weddings and all things “traditional family”, you chuckled. But I’d rather never get married and be with Marshall than the other way around. He means more to me than a dress I’d wear for a day. 

You know I love Em, but I just don’t get it, she shrugged before munching on a cupcake you had baked earlier. He’s old, so I get the “not wanting kids” part. But you moved back here for him and you decided to give up on kids to be with him, so the least he could do is put a ring on it, you know ? 

We just got back together, you giggled. And don’t get me wrong, if he asked for my hand, I would say yes. I mean, he is the love of my life. But he seems pretty adamant. And as long as I’m with him, I’m good, so really… Doesn’t matter. 

Still… I never thought you would be ready to renounce marriage and children for any man. 

You could absolutely see where Talia was coming from. You had spent countless hours talking about wedding stuff, since the two of you had met. You had actually bonded over your love of romantic movies and series and watched countless wedding-related TV shows. But you had made your choice and you understood that Marshall didn’t want that. And after all, he was right : you didn’t need to sign a piece of paper to be in a loving, committed relationship. As long as you got to experience life with him and make great memories, you were happy. And as for the fun you would have had planning your own wedding, you would live vicariously through Talia, who would be the most beautiful bride. The conversation shifted and you got back to your order of business : the wedding. You looked at venues while she took a fun break and looked at the Vera Wang website.

I’m going to be sick, Talia muttered after a while. 

Come on, you chuckled. The bridal collections can’t be that bad… 

No, I’m really feeling sick, she said before running to the bathroom. 

You heard her puke profusely and looked at the plate of cupcakes. She had eaten about half a dozen. You had eaten a few yourself, though not nearly as much, and you were feeling fine, so you doubted that your baking was actually to blame. When she came back from the bathroom, she looked rather ill and tired.  

Do you want some tea ? You offered. 

Yes, please, she said in a croaky voice. 

Lay on the couch, I’ll make it. Do you think you caught a stomach bug or something ? 

I don’t know, she said in a small voice. Maybe it’s my period ? I’ve been waiting for it to actually come for a while. 

Wait… You’re late ? You asked with a raised eyebrow. 

You stared at her in disbelief and started to put two and two together. In the past days, she had complained about being tired and bloated, but you didn’t think too much of it. However, now that you knew she was late, it made you think of your own symptoms, from when you were pregnant. That’s how it had started after all : feeling tired, hungry and bloated, with a bit of morning sickness to top it off. 

I can’t be pregnant, Talia said with a terrified look on her face. My mother gave me enough shit about living with Jamal before being married, she will kill me if I have a baby out of wedlock. 

Maybe it’s just a false alarm. You’re using protection, right ? You asked as you tried to reassure her. 

Of course, she said. I mean, except once, but what would be the odds ? 

When was that ? You asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Hum… The night we got engaged ? She said nervously. 

You opened big eyes. The night they got engaged was the night Jamal brought condoms to your room. And doing the math, it would make sense and explain Talia’s period being quite a bit late. On some level… You were the one who stopped taking the pill after your breakup and your best friend might as well be the one who ended up pregnant. You convinced her to take a pregnancy test and the two of you ended up driving to the nearest pharmacy, buying one from every brand. When you got back home, Talia was shaking with nerves. 

You’ll be fine, you said as you gave her a hug. You guys have been together for ages and you guys have talked about having kids before. You know he will be supportive. 

I know but… Right before the wedding ?! She asked nervously. That was not the plan, Y/N. I wanted to look good in my dress, I wanted to show off my figure in a bikini on a Hawaiian beach for my honeymoon… 

Only one way to find out, you said. Now, go and take the test ! 

In true bestie fashion, you sat on the tub while Talia was peeing on the stick. She handed it to you during the mandatory three minute waiting period. You had been there before and you knew damn well how she might be feeling. You held her hand and started to feel overcome with nerves, as well as many other emotions. You were probably a bad friend for this, and you would never confess to feeling this way, but deep down, you were feeling envious. You were content with your life, but some shameful part of you felt like you would have been in her place, if you hadn’t broken up with Simon. You would most likely be engaged, maybe with a rainbow baby on the way. In a way, you were envious. Of course, being with Marshall was everything you wanted and you loved him more than hypothetical plans of having kids or getting married, and Talia was more than deserving of these things, but it was stronger than you. When the alarm on your phone rang, both you and Talia took a deep breath. 

I can’t look at it, she said. 

You sort of have to, you pointed out. You have to know, right ? 

You look at it and tell me. 

You nervously took the stick and looked at it. Two lines. Positive. 

You’re… pregnant, you said in a blank voice. 

She gasped and looked at it herself. She freaked out and refused to believe it, trying to convince the both of you that it might be a false positive and she ended up guzzling almost a gallon of water and taking another test. Then another one. And another one. Of course, all of them had the same result : your best friend was definitely pregnant. 

I’m pregnant, she said in disbelief. I’m really pregnant.

How are you feeling ? You asked. 

I… I can’t believe it, she simply said. I am pregnant. 

She stared at the numerous tests on the sink and put a hand on her belly. She stared at you as tears welled up in her eyes. 

I’m pregnant, she repeated. 

Look, if you don’t feel ready, you can absolutely…, you began. 

No, she said. I think… I’m happy. I’m having a baby with the love of my life. I’m so happy. 

She took you in her arms and held you tightly as she sobbed with happiness. You were emotional - for a lot of different reasons - and you felt a tear roll on your cheek. Talia was the kindest soul you had ever met and you had absolutely no doubt that she would be an amazing mother. She was already so good at taking care of people. 

You’re going to be a splendid mom, you said softly. That baby is going to be so lucky. 

You’re going to be the best aunt, she said emotionally. 

And Jamal is going to be the greatest Dad on earth ! 

Oh my God, I have to tell Jamal ! She said. And my mom ? Do I call my mom ? And the wedding ?! What do I do ?!?! 

You could see her go through so many emotions at once. You tried your best to reassure her and walked her through what she needed to do. First, you told her to go home and break the news to Jamal before telling anyone else. Then, she would have to make some medical appointments to ensure everything was alright with her pregnancy. As for the wedding, you assured her that, whether they wanted to elope or wait until after the baby was born, you would do your best to make sure her dreams came true and that she would have the most beautiful wedding. Whatever she needed, you would be there for her. She hugged you tight before leaving your place, making you promise that you would not tell a soul, not even Marshall. 

MARSHALL’S POV 

Marshall sighed in relief as he drove past the gate of his property. The past few days at the studio had been pretty rough : nothing seemed to be going right and it was starting to get on his nerves. The week had started with an artist postponing a recording and writing session they were supposed to have together, as well as a sample clearing issue. However, there was a bigger problem : whenever he wanted to write, he couldn’t bring himself to. Whenever he jotted down some ideas or words on a page, everything felt insanely corny or simply wrong. He knew that was to be expected, though : whenever his personal life was peaceful, that’s when he found it harder to write and, right now, things happened to be going great at home. Every morning, he woke up with the biggest smile on his face, happy to be with the woman he loved. She was truly amazing and he loved living with her. She was easy to get along with and she took care of him by cooking, baking and providing him with comfort whenever he needed. There was literally nothing for him to complain about and, deep down, maybe it was what was lacking. When they were broken up, he was hurting and felt like shit but at least, it was a familiar feeling. As hard as it had been, he had learned to thrive on sadness, hurt, anger and resentment. Happiness, on the other hand, felt foreign to him, especially when it was this peaceful and domestic. There was always this irrational part of him that felt like it was too good to be true and was in panic mode. When he was with Kim, this kind of calm, peace and happiness only meant a storm was coming and that he was about to be brought to his knees. Same when he was a teenager living with his mother : when things were going great, it always meant drama was coming their way. So, obviously, he had developed trust issues and always felt odd when things were going good. Of course, he loved being with Y/N and he would not have it any other way. But at the same time, he couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety. 

When he got home, he found Y/N reading yet another bridal magazine on the couch while a documentary was playing on the living room TV. He immediately joined her and pulled her in for a hug. Her presence was just what he needed. However, she seemed a bit more distracted than usual. 

How was wedding planning today ? He asked as he settled and pulled her legs over his knees. 

Eventful, she replied. 

Really ? What happened ? Did you argue about the color of the bridesmaids dresses ? He chuckled. 

No, no, she said. I mean, whatever, it’s not really interesting. 

Are you alright ? He asked. 

Yeah… How was your day ? 

She seemed a little nervous and preoccupied, but he figured that Talia was probably to blame. Jamal’s fiancée was amazing, but she did keep Y/N busy with wedding planning and he knew that she was definitely the type to turn into a bridezilla. He told his girlfriend about his day and a meeting he had about upcoming performance dates. He was set to be a headliner for Lollapalooza, not only in the US but also in Europe and South America. He tried to focus on the positive and keep his writing struggles to himself. 

How would you feel about coming with me for Lollapalooza ? He asked. 

I don’t know, she shrugged. 

Come on, he said with a smile. It could be fun. I don’t want to be away from you for too long. And you could also enjoy the festival, see concerts, and we could travel a bit between the performance dates and make it romantic. What do you think ? 

That could be fun, she agreed. I don’t know if I’ll be free, though. 

I think Talia can do without you for a little while, he chuckled. 

No, I meant… From work, she corrected. In case I find something, you know ? But maybe Talia will need me too. I don’t know. 

We’ll see, he said with a smile. Are you sure you’re ok ? You seem… Gloomy ? 

I’m fine, she shrugged. Sorry. I guess I’m just under the weather. 

You’re working too hard for this wedding, he said as he took the magazine from her hands and pulled her closer to him. Come here. 

She hummed and buried her face in his neck. They cuddled in this position for a while and he started to relax. The warmth of her breath on his skin was doing a good job soothing him and making him forget about the frustrations of the day. From the day she walked into his life, she had been a peaceful presence for him and getting to come home to her in the evening was a blessing he was definitely grateful for. He enjoyed being in a bubble with her and being able to forget about the pressure of his work. They didn’t need to speak, her mere presence in the room and her touch were enough for him to be able to ease up. 

I missed you today, he said as he kissed her temple. 

I missed you too, she replied. 

If you didn’t have that appointment tomorrow, I’d take you to work with me, he continued. I could use your hugs throughout the day. 

What appointment ? She asked, seemingly confused. 

Your OB/GYN appointment for your contraception. Isn’t that tomorrow ?

Oh, right, she said sheepishly. I forgot about that. 

Are you ok, babe ? He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. I mean… If you don’t want to take the pill, it’s fine, we can stick to condoms. 

No, no, it’s not that, she replied. 

What’s wrong, then ? 

Nothing, she said. Sorry. Mind if I go lie down before preparing dinner ? I don’t feel too well. 

No, of course not, he said softly. Do you want me to come with you ? 

Don’t worry, she said. You can stay here. 

She got up and kissed his cheek before heading to their bedroom. Something definitely seemed off. Ever since they got back from Europe, she had been in a rather good mood, even considering the situation with her Dad. Now, she almost seemed depressed and he had no idea why. He decided to let her rest, figuring that she was probably just tired or that her period might be on the way. A couple of hours later, he went to see her and ask if she was hungry. She immediately offered to cook something for him, even though she didn’t plan on eating, but he told her not to bother. Y/N was laying in bed, wearing one of his tee-shirts, doom scrolling on her phone, the preoccupied look still on her face. He kissed her and went to the kitchen for a quick sandwich and a can of diet coke. When he was done, he threw his can in the trash and saw three sticks that looked all too familiar : pregnancy tests. Ever since he got back with Y/N, they’d had protected sex and, on one occasion when the condom broke, she had gotten emergency contraception. There was no way she could be pregnant. So why the hell had she taken these tests ? In a matter of seconds, his heart had started pounding in his chest. He nervously grabbed one of the tests, hoping it was negative. But there were clearly two lines. Positive. So were the two other ones. He felt terrified and dizzy. That had to be a nightmare. He could not have a baby. Not at fifty-two. Not when he had sworn that he would not have any more children. If anything, he was the last person on earth that should have kids. He loved his daughters, obviously, and even though raising them was his biggest accomplishment, it was also the hardest thing he had ever had to do. Seeing the two lines on the pregnancy tests gave him flashbacks of all the sleepless nights he’d had, tossing and turning, doubting himself and being terrified to mess things up. There was no way he would be able to do it all over again. Now that his daughters were grown-up and out of the house, he wanted to take it easy, enjoy life with Y/N and be able to do whatever he wanted. The last thing he expected was to change diapers, get up in the middle of the night and just struggle all over again. He took his face in his hands. He could not do this, and especially not with Y/N. She had not even been sober for two years. He had been there with Kim and he knew what it was like to see the mother of his children relapse and struggle with sobriety. No kid ever deserved this and he was simply not strong enough to raise a kid with another addict. Not again. He tried to pace himself but he couldn’t. He had to talk to her. He did not understand. Why hadn’t she told him she was late ? When did she take the test ? Why didn’t she tell him she was pregnant ? He had so many questions. He grabbed the sticks and walked to the bedroom to confront her.

Please tell me it’s a prank, he said as he walked in. Please tell me it’s not true. Please tell me they’re fake. 

Fake what ? What prank ? She asked as she looked up. There’s no prank. 

So it’s real ?! He blurted out. How long did you think you could hide this from me ?! 

Hide what from you ? She asked as her eyebrows knitted. 

THIS ! He yelled as he threw the pregnancy tests on the bed.

He was livid. His anxiety had simply turned to anger. The idea that she could have the audacity to pretend not to know what he was talking about was driving him crazy. Had she even taken the plan B pill ? He couldn’t think straight anymore. He felt betrayed and trapped. He could see her face change as she saw the pregnancy tests. Her face started to crumble and tears started to roll on her cheeks. But if she thought he would fall for it, she was wrong. No amount of crying would work and she was not getting away with it. 

Don’t even try that shit with me, Y/N, he said coldly. You don’t get to pretend you have no idea when I’m talking about when I just found these fucking pregnancy tests. And you don’t get to cry when you’re the one who tried to hide that shit for me. What were you fucking thinking ?! Were you waiting for the legal delay for an abortion to be over ? For an ultrasound to soften me up ?! 

W-What ? She asked. No, Marshall, it’s not… 

What is it, huh ?! Fuck, we talked about this, we fucking broke up over this, so don’t tell me you didn’t fucking know how I feel about having kids, he continued. I’m not having another kid. Especially not with you. When you get to the doctor tomorrow, you better ask him to point you to the nearest abortion clinic ! 

She stared at him in shock. Her mouth was slightly open, she was still crying but she looked in disbelief. What was she thinking ? That he would jump up at the news ? He shook his head and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

It’s Talia, she said. She…

Of course it’s Talia, he scoffed. Of course your stupid friend put you up to this. Do you know the number of times she told me to suck it up and agree to marriage, babies and shit and get you back ? I gotta hand it to her, she’s fucking persistent. Though I must admit I didn’t think she would put you up to this. 

At this point, he wasn’t even thinking about what he was saying, just spitting his words in a spiteful way. As seconds went by, he was getting more and more worked up. He didn’t care about this pregnancy. He did not want to. He simply refused this possibility. There was no way he was having another baby. He loved Y/N but there was no way he would have a kid with her. 

You’re not the first person to try this with me, you know ? He spat. I should have known better. But you’re the last person I would have expected to try and fuck me ovI- 

I’M NOT PREGNANT ! Y/N finally yelled before throwing the tests back in his face. 

You’re not ?! He asked in disbelief. Whose fucking tests are they then ?! 

TALIA’S ! TALIA IS PREGNANT,  YOU ASSHOLE ! NOT ME ! 

He felt a sudden wave of relief wash over him. He didn’t realize he needed to breathe that much, but it felt like he had a whole bottle of oxygen poured into his lungs. He felt at least thirty pounds lighter. Y/N, on the other hand, looked absolutely livid. And why wouldn’t she ? He realized he had basically insulted her, blinded by anger. As his mind got a little clearer, he recognized he might have gone a little overboard. 

Thank God, he sighed. Babe, I…

Cut it, she said as she got up from bed and started to leave the room. 

Wait, he pleaded as he grabbed her arm. 

She jerked her arm and groaned before going to the corridor. He followed her, trying to apologize and get her to talk to him. 

Y/N, I’m sorry, he said sheepishly. 

Please, she scoffed. You’re not sorry. 

I am, he assured her. Nerves got the best of me. I’m really sorry. 

Well, at least I got to know what you really think of me, she said. 

Where are you going ? He asked as she went down the stairs. 

On the couch. I don’t know about you, but I usually don’t sleep in the same room as people who think I am capable of betraying them, she spat. 

I didn’t say that, he defended himself knowing full well he had, indeed, said that. 

You did, Marshall, she said coldly. You literally said I tried to fuck you over. And not only do you think I am a terrible person, you also insulted my best friend. 

You’re not sleeping in the living room, it’s stupid, he said. 

Well I would have appreciated waiting until tomorrow to gather my things and figure out my next move, she pointed out. 

Your next… Y-You want to… leave ?! 

She did not answer. She only shrugged. Her demeanor and gaze were cold. She was clearly pissed, understandably so. But… Leaving ? She couldn’t leave him. He couldn’t lose her. He had promised to himself he would do everything in his power not to. The idea of her leaving put him in a state of panic and brought him back to their breakup, to that fateful Saturday morning, over pancakes, about seven or eight months ago. 

You can’t leave. 

Why should I stay ?! She spat. Why should I stay with someone who thinks I am capable of betraying them ? 

I didn’t mean that, he pleaded. I panicked, I’m sorry. Babe, I love you. I know you’d never… Fuck, I… Don’t leave me. Please. 

Let’s be clear, she said as she looked at him dead in the eyes. The only reason I’m still standing here is because my best friend is telling her future husband that they’re having a child and there is no way in hell I’m ruining that moment for her. Otherwise, I’d be over there and back in my old room already. 

Don’t do this, he said on the verge of tears. Please don’t leave me. I just… You seemed a little off, today, and you said it had been eventful, and when I saw the tests, I… I don’t know, I panicked. 

The reason I was off is because my best friend just told me she was pregnant, you dumbass ! She yelled. I was off because I had to stand in my own bathroom and hold these fucking pregnancy tests and see that they were positive and they’re not mine ! 

She was starting to cry again. She mumbled something in French and went to the living room, as he followed in her step. She sat on the couch and brought her knees to her chin. He stood there, watching her. 

Just leave, she said. 

No, he replied. I want to talk about it. I want to make things right between us. I’m so sorry… 

You want to talk ? Let’s talk then, she said sarcastically. You said you’re not having another kid, especially not with me. What was that ? 

I just don’t want more kids, he said evasively. I’m in my fifties, I’ve had three daughters, I don’t want more. 

I know that, she said as she rolled her eyes. And I respect that. But answer the damn question, Marshall. What did you mean about me ?! 

It doesn’t matter, he pleaded. It really doesn’t. You don’t want a kid, do you ?! 

Believe me, the last thing on my wish list is to have a baby, especially with you, she replied. 

Then it doesn’t matter, he simply said. I was out of line, I shouldn’t have accused you and I’m sorry. Let’s go to bed, I’ll make it up to you. 

Just say it, she said firmly. If you don’t, I swear to God, I’m packing a suitcase, calling a cab and booking a hotel room. 

I meant addicts like us don’t get to make that kind of mistakes, Y/N, he sighed. Addicts are shitty parents. I should know. 

Wow, she simply scoffed. 

She was staring at him with a look of both pain and disdain. He had obviously struck a chord. She closed her eyes and sighed. 

Why do you even bother with me ? She questioned. Why did you take me back ? 

What do you mean ? He asked nervously. I love you, I want to be with you. 

Why would you want to be with someone who you obviously think is not good enough ?! That’s just stupid, she pointed out. Why bother ? 

What ?! No, Y/N, I don’t… Of course you’re good enough. 

You know, I’m fine with your choices, she said with a hint of sadness. I respect that you’re done with marriage, and that you’re done with having kids. But you thinking I shouldn’t get to have children ? That fucking hurts. 

I’m sorry… 

STOP ! She screamed. You’re not sorry. I was ready to renounce having kids. Because I love you more than any unborn child. But do you even realize how much it hurts to know that if I had actually gotten accidentally pregnant, the person I sacrificed everything to be with would not support me ?! 

He felt his heart strain a little. Seeing the pain on her face made him feel like the worst asshole in the world. To be fair, if she had actually been pregnant, he would have supported her. Sure, he thought abortion would be a better option, but he would never force her. If they had been in that situation - and thank God they weren’t -  he would have stood by her side and supported her to the best of his abilities. He had simply been mean and stupid. Once again, anger had gotten the best of him. 

I would have been there, he said. Of course I would have been. I love you, Y/N. 

But you think I would be a shitty mom, she pointed out. 

I’ve seen addiction ruin families, he explained. It certainly ruined mine, in more ways than one. 

You still think of me as an addict, don’t you ? She asked on the verge of tears. No matter how long I can stay sober, you think I can’t be trusted ever again ? 

I-I don’t know, he replied honestly. In my book, an addict is an addict. I still think of myself as an addict. It doesn’t mean people can’t improve or recover but… It’s tricky. But I love you. I love you more than life itself, baby. 

She looked at him and simply shrugged. No matter what he said, he got the feeling that it would not matter much. He hated that angry side of himself. It wasn’t the first time that his anger got the best of him and ruined everything. He had been to therapy for his anger for years but, right when he thought he had made progress, it had to come and bite him in the ass once again. 

Please talk to me, he begged. Please say something. 

I have my appointment tomorrow morning, she simply said. I’ll pack my things when I get back. I will be out of here by the time you get back from work tomorrow.

[bigskydreaming]

The Vampire Daniel Molloy, when Louis asks what he's looking forward to most about the next stage of his newly immortal life:

Hmm. With how much my maker already complains about me ruining his life and how every day I give him a new reason to regret ever siring me, if I had to pick just one thing, I'd say the thing I'm most looking forward to is when I hit vampire puberty.

Louis: ....

Daniel: Vampire puberty's when the really wild superpowers kick in, right?

Louis: I suppose technically that's not....inaccurate.

Daniel: Hey, what are the chances of me getting the 'set shit on fire with my brain' thing you've got? Can you even imagine how much that would piss him off? His disappointment of a fledgling having the same gifts as the ex who dumped his ass....oh, man. C'mon now. I bet I could do some real damage with that.

Louis: Actually, while we're near the subject: would you please stop introducing yourself as 'the reason your vampire parents got divorced?'

Daniel: No, Louis, Louis! You're not getting it, see....the thing that makes it funny is its true.

Louis: You've really decided to lean into the whole 'second childhood' angle, huh.

Daniel: Mmmm. And just think. If you'd turned me fifty years ago when I first asked, I'd be well past this stage by now. And also still twenty. And hot.

Louis: Ahh. Its like that, then, is it.

Daniel: Oh, only a little bit. Really though, its like, every day I discover a new way to make Armand rue my very existence all over again, and maybe I'm just a simple man with simple needs, because that's just....very fun for me. I mean, there's just something extra validating in knowing the guy you're all "fuck that guy, I hate him, he sucks" about hates you waaaay more than you can be bothered to hate him. Because then its like you win the feud, right? You still get to hate that guy, which is great, because fuck that guy, he sucks, but you also get to know your very existence drives him way crazier than his ever makes you, and I mean, let's be real. Who doesn't like winning things?

Louis: Well I'm so glad you've found something that gives you a sense of purpose at least. Its very -

Daniel: Yeah, yeah, immortal blood drinkers need hobbies other than mass murder, it keeps the body count low and is good for the environment. Relax. I know. I literally wrote the book on it. You were there.

Louis: That's what you got out of it?

Daniel: Why, did you want me to fixate on your sex scenes instead? That seems weird. A little narcissistic even. And at the risk of self-awareness, when I'm the one -

Louis: Right. Well. I just wanted to make sure you had something to focus your energies on. It can all be a bit overwhelming at first and with your level of public attention at the moment, its very crit -

Daniel: Nope, all good here. Got myself a steady supply of Deadbeat Dad jokes that make my maker's eye twitch - apparently base word play is "gauche" or some shit - ugh, my god, its like nothing I do is ever good enough for him, and I only ate one of the editors on my shitlist to test drive my shiny new murder skills. He had this thing about Oxford commas, used to bug the crap out of me. Its like we get it, you hate them. They're literally dots on a page, they can't hurt you, can we please move on....

Louis: ....

Daniel: Louis, I'm kidding. Look, you don't have to worry about me. I already decided I find emotional evisceration way more satisfying than the physical version. Less clean up and it lasts longer anyway. I'm not going to get myself into trouble by cosplaying as Jack the Ripper where paparazzi can catch me red-fanged, and even if I do, I hereby absolve you of all responsibility. You can stop mother-henning me, you didn't turn me, you literally said no when I begged you to, its the whole reason I have eternal wrinkles instead of youthful tautness.

Louis: Not gonna let that one go, are you.

Daniel: Gimme a few centuries and ask me again. I'll let you know then.

Louis: Mmhmm. So this was....memorable and we definitely won't be doing it again. But you do seem to have things figured out so I'll leave you to it, then.

Daniel: Wait, Louis, don't go! Don't you want to hear my five-century life plan for annoying Armand into an early retirement mausoleum? I made visual aids!

Louis: Goodbye, Daniel.

Daniel: Fine, leave then! I don't care! You're not my real dad anyway! Et cetera, et cetera!

[billthedrake]

DAD'S HABIT

It had become a birthday tradition. Ever since my parents' divorce, Dad would treat me each year to a guys' night in the city. I was a hockey player, and my father the textbook hockey dad, and we were both big Rangers fans. So every year, Dad would drive me to New York, where we'd spend two nights and catch a home game.

I think Dad thought I'd outgrow it as I got closer to graduation, but I enjoyed the father-son bonding time as much as he did. My father is a brash, blue-collar kind of guy. Very heart on his sleeve, but also not good at talking about emotional stuff. The divorce made him even more closed off, but I knew he always looked forward to his custody weekends with me. Even at the pissiest, moodiest points of my teenage years, I got it.

I could tell Dad was surprised after I went off to college - on a hockey scholarship at a New England college - when I asked if we were still doing my birthday trip.

"You bet, buddy," he beamed with barely contained excitement in his voice. "Though I guess we'll need to wait till your season's over."

So that's what we did. A few days later he got back to me wondering if I'd want to catch an away series in Boston later that spring. That's how a new tradition got started, going to different cities each April.... Chicago, Montreal, and now that I'm 22 this year the trip is in DC.

The first night, Dad and I found a sports bar, where we watched a couple of games, but mostly caught up. About school, life, and just boring stuff. Dad seemed to be in a good mood, chattier than normal, and just happier with life. His contracting work was going well, and he promised that he'd take me out for a nice steak dinner the next night.

I asked him if he was dating any one, but he just cocked a grin and shook his head. "Nothing serious," he said with an uncharacteristic blush. "I mean, your old man gets out there for a little fun now and then, but I don't know if I'm ready to date."

"Dad!" I objected with a laugh. The man had given me the birds and bees talk and had checked in with me a couple of times. I'd admitted to him that I'd become sexually active, though I made up more experience with women than I really had. But we weren't the kind of family who talked much about sex.

"Goddamnit, Joey," he chuckled. "You're not a kid any more. I figure you know the score."

"Yeah, I guess," I said, pressing my leg against my father's next to the bar. "Guess you don't get used to the idea of your parents having a life."

"Could probably use a little more of one, to be honest," Dad chimed. God, he was really opening up this evening. "What about you, son? I thought you'd be going steady with someone by now."

"Nah," I hemmed and hawed, trying to hide my embarrassment. I'd gotten real good at bullshitting with my buddies and my teammates but for some reason had a harder time lying to Dad.

My father's hand clasped on my shoulder. "s' OK, I'm not gonna pester you like your mother does," he said. "I guess I wouldn't be a good Dad if I didn't want to know what's going on in your life."

Looking into his gruffly handsome face and his puppy dog brown eyes, I was THIS close to telling him. About the gay thing, about my doubts, about how I wanted to tell everyone but was too fucking scared. How I seemed to be putting my life off until after college.

Instead I gave a silent nod of acknowledgment and turned my head back up to the big TV screen behind the bar. Dad followed suit.

***

We were three beers in when Dad said the day was catching up with him. "It's early though, you should stay out," he urged. "Have some fun."

I almost said no, but it was barely 9 o'clock, and a part of me wanted to take advantage of some independent time. I told Dad I'd maybe stay out for a while longer.

"You got the spare room key, right?"

I told him I did. "I won't be out long," I said.

"I hope you are," he chuckled. "Seriously, enjoy yourself, Joey," he said as he got up from his bar stool. I try to not to perv on my old man but seeing him in his casual jeans and sweatshirt, it was hard not to admire his sturdy body. I mean, Dad's got a beer belly but otherwise is pretty damn solid. I felt his strength as he gave my shoulder one last squeeze before bidding me good night.

I gave it maybe five minutes after he left, then I downed my drink and found my way to the Metro to Dupont Circle. I'd only been to a gay bar twice before, and each time was nerve wracking as hell. But something about being in a different city made me feel anonymous. I felt giddy and excited as I walked the blocks to some bar I found on Google.

Maybe I picked the wrong place, or maybe it was too early, but the bar was dead. I may have been anonymous, but I stuck out in the place, the only dude under 40 in a place of older man. That would have been fine. I mean, I kind of get turned on by men in their late 30s, or 40s and 50s. But a couple of obnoxious guys made a beeline for me in turn, as soon as I got my beer. I tried to do the thanks but no thanks, thing but they wouldn't fucking let up. It brought out my whole anxiety about being in the place to begin with. I didn't even finish my beer, I just bolted out of there.

The whole way back to the hotel, I was frustrated and maybe a little mad at myself. I maybe should have tried another bar, but at this point I wasn't in the mood.

I tried to be quiet when I got back to the hotel room. There was the click of the key card, but other than that I slipped into the room silently, so I wouldn't wake Dad. It took me a second to realize that the light was on, and that Dad was hardly asleep. I was a few steps in the room, far enough to see half of the beds, when I realized what the fuck was happening.

"You like that cock, Daddy?" the voice was youthful and masculine, and it seemed to match the very attractive athletic younger guy who was boning my father doggy style.

My beefy bodied old man was bracing himself on all fours and actually bucking his meaty ass back against every hard thrust. If I wasn't hard yet, that sight alone made my cock feel more rigid than I'd ever felt.

"You know it, buddy," my father growled in that deep, loud voice of his. "Pound my fucking hole." God, Dad was being really loud and his sex talk seemed to echo off the walls. I hoped to God there was soundproofing, then realized I hadn't heard anything before stepping into the room.

The young dude just gripped Dad's waist and used the leverage to pull my father's body back and forth onto his shaft. "You wanna do the scene we talked about, man?" the guys asked, quiet in his voice now.

Dad nodded and blushed beet red. "Yeah, let's go for it."

The top's chest seemed to puff proudly. I couldn't believe they'd not noticed me. Hell, I couldn't believe I had the balls or the stupidity to just stand there and watch them. But they were so caught up in their mating. The man's hips now slowed to a slow sexy grind and he leaned forward and kissed along Dad's thick shoulder and neck. "I've wanted to do this for so long, Dad," he growled. "After every hockey practice."

"Oh god, yeah, Joey!" my father hissed, not as loud this time.

WHAT THE FUCK!?!

My heart pounded and my dick throbbed, but my mind was in a major head-fuck place now. I was actually hyperventilating, and the voyeurism had gone from a sexual turnon to a sense of invading Dad's privacy, or seeing something I shouldn't have seen. I backed out as quietly as I entered, and let the door open and shut as silently as I could.

"Fuck!" I hissed to myself as I stood in the hallway, feeling my heart race. I tried to gather my thoughts to something that would get my dick to go down. It half worked, but not fully. I thought of going somewhere else for a while, even the hotel lobby. But I had to know. Know who'd been fucking Dad. Probably not a boyfriend, cause Dad never came to DC. Maybe some dude from Grindr, I don't know.

It took ten minutes, maybe a little more. I waited down the hall, by the elevator bank, and when I heard the click of the door, I peered out. The first one was a different room, but the second, a minute later, was from ours. I pretended like I was I just coming from the elevators and walked slowly down the hall. The dude was busy with his phone as he walked, texting or something so I could get a good look at him. I'd seen his body in profile, but now that I saw him head on, wearing joggers and a zip up pullover, I could make out that he was almost a dead ringer for me! Blue eyes to my brown, and higher cheekbones, but otherwise there was so much similar. Same height, same athletic build, same dark brown hair, same jockish demeanor.

"Hey," he grunted in acknowledgement as we passed. Bro to bro.

"Hey," I said, nervously, trying to pass it off as a normal exchange. He kept on his way, and I paused at the room door, wondering if he'd look back. He never did.

I wasn't quiet this time. I wanted to give Dad time notice. I shut the door loudly and called out, "Hey Dad."

"Hey, buddy," he called out. He was lying back in bed, watching some sports news on the TV with the volume turned down. Wearing only a thin pair of gym shorts, his body was relaxed and I got a good chance to admire his muscle. Big bulging arms, rounded shoulders, and full hard pecs. Dad's surprisingly smooth for a guy his age, but there was a dusting of hair on his chest and torso... finer and lighter colored than my own body hair. Below his pecs there was some extra weight... more than middle aged spread, I guess, though his beer belly was shy of a full gut. On Dad it looked hot. The thin fabric didn't leave too much to the imagination, but my father's genitals were soft so didn't form too much of a package. And in some ways those thighs stole the show, with a rounded curve and palpable meatiness. They were hairier than his upper body but not outright furry.

I couldn't believe this man, my father, had just taken dick like a porn star.

I snapped out of my perving reverie and rifled though my bag for my own pair of shorts. No way was I sleeping in just underwear tonight. I even pulled out some compression to layer underneath, to keep any boner in check.

I ducked into the bathroom to piss, change, brush my teeth, and just collect myself. When I got out, bare chested as Dad, he was still on the other bed, absorbed in whatever boring sports talk program was on. I couldn't believe how nonchalant he was being. Then again, maybe getting laid puts you in that kind of mood.

I settled onto the other double bed and pretended to be interested in the TV. I'd sneak glanced over at my father, to get a look at his half naked body but also to imagine that forbidden spot between his legs, deep in his ass. No way did he have the chance to shower off after sex, and I just knew that cleft and hole were still wet with lube.... and if the guy didn't put on a condom, then cum as well.

I had to lift my leg and surreptitiously reach down to pinch the base of my cock to tame the hardon. Compression would only do so much.

"Have fun tonight?" Dad finally asked. "I thought you'd be out longer."

The messed up thing was that I felt guilty for coming back too early, of not giving my father enough time to hook up with a dude. "It was all right," I said. "Just wasn't feeling it."

He looked over at me, his brown eyes filled with normal fatherly concern. "Yeah, buddy? I figured a good looking dude like you would be able to score a hot girl for the night."

"Dad!" I objected.

"What?" he asked. As if his concern were just a normal dad's male bonding with his son. In another instance it might be, but I knew now that Dad got off on the idea of me fucking. That's why he was always asking me about girls.

I had every intention of playing dumb. Of just filing this evening back into my memory bank for stroke sessions. Because this was potentially explosive stuff.

Instead I picked up that stick of emotional TNT. "I, um, saw you guys... just now... earlier," I eked out through a shaky voice.

Dad's relaxed, happy go lucky face turned dead serious. "Oh," he said. "I thought I head the door click." He looked at me and I just knew what he was thinking. He was trying to figure out just how much I'd seen. "Sorry you had to see that Joey."

"Guess I should have picked up the hint you wanted some alone time," I said. Trying to pass it off like Dad was my dorm roommate needing to get laid. I even forced a chuckle to make light of the weirdness.

Dad turned off the TV and turned toward me. God, I wished he wasn't looking so hot just then. Chest and arm muscle bulging as his body pivoted toward me. "I'm serious, Joe... I didn't mean.... Damnit... I guess you know now... your old man likes to have a little fun now and then."

It was none of my business, but curiosity won out. "He wasn't your boyfriend or anything, was he?" I mean, it didn't seem likely but I had to know if I was getting a step dad my age.

He shook his head. "Nothing like that, son," he said, pausing before adding, "It's just, well, sometimes I splurge on a hustler."

It was a weird first reaction, but I was a little mad that Dad paid that dude when any number of men would be lucky to fuck him. But as the memory of that primal scene flashed in my head, I was getting rock hard again. "Dad, I'm pretty sure you don't need to pay anyone."

Dad's eyes were on me intently now. Deciding how to take my comment. "Sometimes I want someone who's not gonna pass judgment," he said quietly. Damn he was making himself vulnerable now, for sure.

I was too. Meeting his gaze, I said, less quietly now, "I'm not gonna pass judgment, Dad."

"No?" he asked. I could hear his voice catch in his throat.

"Nope. And I hope you don't pass judgment on me," I replied.

"What would I...?" Dad started to ask before he let out a surprised, "oh!"

I'd pulled my legs out and was revealing my hardon to dad. Even beneath the shorts and through the compression, my ridge of college-jock cock was visible. My heart raced nervously but I also sat up proudly in bed and spread my legs further to show my dick off to my father.

"Fuck, you're big, Joey," he gapsed, without thinking before he took his eyes off my crotch and looked back up at me. "How long?"

"I dunno, Dad," I said. "Maybe 7 and a half inches. Almost eight."

"Shit," he grunted. Then shook his head. "But I meant how long have you had a thing for me?"

"Honest, Dad?" I replied. "I don't know. Maybe longer than I realized."

He nodded, taking in the information.

I looked over at my father and could see his dick firming up to a spike again in those shorts. "How long have you had a thing for me, Dad?"

"Maybe longer than I realized, too," he shot back, now sitting up on the bed, facing me. "I swear Joey, I tried not to go there, but you grew into such a hot fucking stud."

I'd had sex with men a couple of times before, and I'd enjoyed the naughty thrill of it. But this just seemed to click, the mutual sexual attraction. The fact Dad was as boned for me as I was for him made me wish we weren't father and son.

Then again, that was the thrill of it, too.

With a playful grin, I hooked my thumbs in my shorts and pulled them up over my boner. Dad was silent and his attention fixated watching this simple, taboo act. I slid off the shorts and the compression and let my long, thick cock ride up. It was fully engorged and stood up from my treasure trail at a rigid angle.

Dad gulped again and looked up at me. "We doing this, son?"

"Yeah, Dad," I hissed, scooting off the bed and standing up. Horniness winning out over my nerves. "We're fucking doing this."

I heard a low rumble as my butch father scooted over and with one hand on my leg to guide me, he took me into his mouth.

"Holy fuck!" I gasped. At first it was just the sheer forbidden fact that my own father was licking and now sucking my bone. But quickly I was going wild at realizing how frickin' good Dad was at this. Not going for the kill, he gave slow, sensual head that seemed to be worshipful and did the trick of working me up to a boil without sending me over the edge.

I'd had guys suck my dick a couple of times, but I'd never fully gotten a blowjob, not for real. Dad was giving me my first.

"Dad," I hissed, spreading my legs to brace my body and running my fingers softly through his light-brown hair to encourage him. I rode out the incredible incestuous pleasure, then had to put on the breaks. "Dad..." I urged, using my fingers to nudge his skull back off me. "I don't wanna cum yet."

My father let out a soft, deep growl as my wet thick prick cleared his lips. And just as quickly as he'd taken me into his mouth, his face dove down to start tonguing and kissing my balls.

"You've turned into such a stud, all right," I heard him say between kisses. "Big fucking balls, too."

I'd had two hookups with older men. Men Dad's age. One was fun, the other I felt a little skeeved out by the man's lecherous fixation on my youth. But with Dad, I responded instantly to his worshipful lust for me. Something about it brought out both my loving and aggressive side. Holding the back of his head, I pulled him roughly into my crotch, then relaxed my grip and patted his head affectionately. Dad seemed to love that.

"I wanna fuck you, Dad," I let out. As I said the words, I knew they were a messed up thing to think, much less say. I was so horny, though, and after seeing Dad practically slut out earlier, my dick was doing the thinking for me.

Dad pulled back, spit on his lips and excitement in his brown eyes. "Yeah, Joey?"

If I didn't know before, I had a pretty good confirmation that Dad had thought a LOT about that very idea. His hand stroked my spit-wet prick, as if he was sizing up how much he'd feel my size.

A nagging doubt hit me. Not incest, but my inexperience. "I might not have the moves that hustler did, but I wanna bone you, Dad."

Dad leaned back, his burly body on display for me, with its hard blue-collar muscle and that extra bulk. He was beautiful and my cock twitched seeing his masculine build offered before me. "How you want me? On all fours?"

I stepped back for a better view, shaking my head. "Face to face," I growled, feeling my cock twitch. I'd had my experiences with men and a hell of a lot of self time with porn. This was better than both combined. "I wanna make out with my dad while I fuck him."

"Joey," Dad grunted, scrambling up to lie back on the bed. I was following him, already greedily tugging at the waist band of his shorts. The elastic snagged on his erection, but he helped me work it over and off his thighs, before I pulled the shorts off and tossed them aside. "This is SO fucking wrong, son," he hissed, and I knew we were on the same wavelength. Riding that taboo.

"Fuck yeah, it's wrong," I growled, the words almost catching in my throat I was so turned on. "A son shouldn't wanna fuck his father."

Dad honest to god whimpered at that. Or maybe it was the feel of my hardon nudging along his thigh as I leaned down and claimed a kiss.

This itself was a line crossed, more than the cocksucking, more than the sex talk. I was French kissing my own father and he was sucking my tongue into his mouth before battling it with his own. We grunted into our kiss, humping our heated bodies and feeling that incredible flesh-on-flesh contact.

This desire had been bottled up so deep inside me, but this evening had brought it out so quickly, I knew it was always there. Knew my father had been deep in my psyche as I masturbated all these years. Knew he was an implicit comparison for any man I went for.

I'd have to ask Dad where I fit into his fantasies, or if there were other men, young men, in his life. All I knew now was how hungrily he held me and felt up my hockey-jock body and spread his legs, inviting me in, then wrapping those feet around to guide me to enter him.

I wasn't hustler-skilled, so I had to reach down and guide my rigid cock to root around for his entrance. But that escort had left a good amount of lube there, and as I nudged my father's recently-fucked pucker, I could tell there was a good deal of cum, too. The idea excited me and made me jealous at the same time. That fucker should have been paying Dad for the privilege...

I thrust inside my old man. Between the suddenness and my size, it was a LOT for Dad to take. Turns out the man liked it that way. He growled into our kiss and used his heels against my strong ass to urge me on.

I didn't need my invitation engraved. I let my body and my hormonal need take over. I fucked Dad, maybe just shy of rough, but definitely hard. And the faster and deeper I went the more the big man's body responded beneath me.

"Fuck me, Joe," he grunted as I broke the kiss and leaned up to get a good look at the man I was shafting, the man who made me.

"You love your son's cock in you?" I prodded.

"Fuck yeah," Dad replied. "Hot fucking incest."

That alone about got me to cum. My hips were a blur of motion and I was THIS close to orgasm.

"Open your mouth, Dad," I urged. I don't know what possessed me to do this, but I think I'd seen it a porn video and something about Dad's need made me wanna try it.

My father opened his mouth and I did it. I spit right into it, hitting the back of his throat like a bullseye target.

Dad actually fucking whimpered once I did.

I hawked some more spit and let it fly once more. And that did it, I was cumming HARD. Harder than I ever had in my life. My hips were now longer thrusting madly but giving a couple of deep jerks into my dad's guts to add my seed to that hustler's.

Dad was rock hard against my abs as we made out and held each other. Holding on to each other and not wanting this father-son fuck to end.

After a couple of minutes I realized I didn't have to end. Dad hadn't gotten off, and I was still rock hard. I could probably go for another... yeah, I could definitely go for another. My hips began a soft, shallow thrust, enough for Dad to feel it inside him.

"You going for another, Joey?" he asked, surprised and excited.

I nodded, smiling down on my father. His hair was matted down with sweat and he had a vulnerable edge to his handsome looks. I felt a strange sexual domination over my old man, but a hell a lot of love, too. It was all in the mix.

"You ever been fucked all night, Dad?" I asked, putting on my deepest, sternest voice I could manage. Yeah, maybe it was a boast, but at that point I felt I had it in me. In any case, I wanted to try.

"God, Joe," Dad hissed. His hands openly massaged my arm muscle, not as big and round as his guns but still with that athletic harness from sports and working out regularly.

I grinned, feeling playful as hell. "Is that a 'God, Joe,' I can't handle that? Or a 'God, Joe, please fuck me all night, Joe'?" I teased.

I felt Dad's heels on my ass cheeks again. "God, Joe, please fuck me all night, Joe.... son."

"You got it... Dad."

[mossyivy]

Ever since you mentioned Chris’s wife having a friend who just HATES him, it’s been stuck on my mind.

The two of you would probably be highschool friends; Let’s call her Isabella, Bella (Bella? Where the hell have you been loca? 🤪) for short. That girls seen you dragged through the mud and back. She was the one that saved you from you last husband, the one that consoled you at 3 AM as you came knocking on her door. It was the last straw. You were done with him being so controlling, abusive, and toxic with you and your little boy.

You didn’t even have a plan in mind—you just packed up your things one night and drove. You’d deal with all the other divorce shit later, you just needed to get out. It was pouring rain, parking your little Honda in your best friend’s driveway and quickly picking up Ollie in your arms and shielding him from the cold heavy rainfall.

Ollie was only a year old, still so small, way too small to go through this. You knocked and after a minute or so, the door finally opened. You just broke down sobbing, asking Bella to please help. If you could just crash at her house for a couple days while you got back on your feet you’d be so grateful. You’d pay her once your check hit.

Being the best person in the entire world, Bella invited you in. Grabbing the things from your car so you could carry Ollie and stay warm in the living room, letting you stay in an old spare bedroom. You just told her everything. What he’d do, how you just packed up, how you were the worst mother in the world for allowing your baby to see that.

It had been almost a decade since that, and Bella still couldn’t get over that day. You’d be forever grateful for her, still paying her back and doing whatever sweet gesture to keep your promise. Ultimately, you moved on and started dating Chris. Your knight in shining armor, the man of your dreams. Bella was SOOOOOOOOO worried. That girl conducted an entire background check on him, literally finding out he had a sister before you did. Finding his old high school graduation pictures even.

Oh, she’d hate him. Send him nasty glares across the room, talk to him, maybe even slightly threaten him when you left to go to the bathroom or something. She was like an eagle watching over him. Even at your wedding, she was still so skeptical, practically bore a hole through his face from how hard her stares were. Bella knew how great of a guy he was, but she still had that fear. She couldn’t let you get dragged down by another man. Not on her watch. She’d make sure you’d never go through that again.

- Anon! 🎀

(Bella is the kind of friend you need in your life.)

I could imagine how worried and horrified she'd be when you came to tell her about this loud mouthed douche from work who never shuts up when you're trying to do your comms job. How you ran into him in the office one day after hearing someone call him Redfield, recognizing the name immediately, and you walked up to him. Ripping him a new one about "shutting the fuck up on radio when you're relaying something important." And he just kinda stood there like a deer in headlights because you wouldn't let him get a word in otherwise.

AND NOW SUDDENLY YOU'RE GOING ON A DATE WITH THE GUY!? You tell her not to worry, it's not a date. He just wants to apologize for being a dick. But Bella knows better by now. You don't talk much about him because even you could tell it was worrying Bella. But whenever he came up his name went from "that asshole" to "Redfield" to "Chris" so quickly... She saw this before with Turner, your ex-husband, and she refused to let it happen again. Not as her duty of your best friend and definitely not as Ollie's aunt/Godmother.

So she'd do a full background check on him, PAID HUNDREDS TO GET EVERYTHING SHE COULD ON THIS MAN! She even got his record of discharge for the Air Force and started making calls... Found out he became the guardian of his little sister in 1994 and took care of her after their parents died. Found all his old S.T.A.R.S. members teammates names or at least the ones who were alive. Called a few people posing as someone looking into him for a job. The only one who was willing to talk was Rebecca but she just seemed so nice Bella couldn't take advantage of that...

You understood Bella's reasoning but it did feel extensive... You got into an argument over it. Didn't speak for a few days. But you came around and you both apologized. You knew why she did it and didn't blame her but at the same time she had to let you make your choices. You're both adults, she can't stop you. But you'd still reassure you that nothing was going on... It's not like that!

And then you were out with her and Ollie getting lunch one afternoon and you just so happen to run into Chris and Claire.

You barely knew anything about Claire but she seemed so excited to get to meet you. "My brother won't shut up about you! It's so nice putting a face to the name. You're just as pretty as he described." :)

Oh... Oh. It is like that...

This is also when Chris gets to meet Ollie for the first time. The man's weakness is babies. He's infatuated with the kid (who's about a year and a few months now) Ollie's excited cause new person. Claire and Bella are chatting each other up but Bella's watching Chris like a hawk as he dotes on Ollie and talks with you. Apologizing for Claire's habit of blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. All while feeling the glare from Bella as she talked with Claire. You'd have to explain that.

Then Chris asks you out again, it's been a few times now and you've hardly talked about your past with him. He's told you what he could of himself. So... you told him everything. All about Turner and all the horrible shit he put you and your son through. You had a lot of baggage if Chris wanted this to go anywhere. A baby and an abusive soon-to-be ex-husband. But he saw it as you just being strong and doing the right thing for yourself and your kid. And he said he wanted to be with you. Even with all the problems.

Bella was still so skeptical for a while until Chris ended up helping you get in contact with a good lawyer after your ex-husband tried getting partial custody of Ollie. No way in hell would the 3 of them let that sweet little boy go anywhere near him. Chris had a little bit of experience after getting custody of his sister. Thankfully everything worked out when you could prove that he'd do do more harm than good in court and you were granted full custody and even a restraining order against him for both you and Ollie.

Everything felt right now. You'd been dating Chris for 6 months, Ollie was almost 2. Bella started to ease up on the hatred (even deep down she knew she didn't actually hate Chris but she just can't stop being on high alert). You find out you're pregnant with a little boy with Chris and he's honestly so happy he gets to be a dad. Besides Ollie who adamantly calls him daddy. It's nice to finally see you happy with someone who cares about you and treats you like gold.

Finally you get Bella's blessing during her maid of honor speech at the wedding and from then on it's just snarky back and forth between the two. Still says she hates him but she doesn't. It's obvious.

[hearts-are-connected]

Random Alex Casey Headcanons

There's an empty couch open to Casey whenever he needs it. I picture one of the Anderson's walking to the kitchen and finding Casey on the couch, sleeping deeper than he ever does at his home, and he stays for breakfast before hitting the road. Or they know he's been there and left early by the neatly folded blanket and pillow sitting in the living room.

Logan enjoys drawing pictures of tired, grump Uncle Casey while he's asleep. She says he's at his most relaxed.

The Anderson's keeping certain food items or coffee blend they know he likes in their home for such occasions. Even including gifts for him under their tree because it's tradition for him to join them Christmas morning.

If he reluctantly takes part in an ugly sweater competition or two, no one is wiser as he swears everyone to secrecy regarding their photos.

Casey and his wife Miranda got a divorce due to mounting issues. The worst loss for them being a miscarriage.

Miranda fell into bad habits, and as such, took her aggression and heartache out on Casey, who tried to make things work while continuing to do his job. It got so bad that in the middle of the night, after a particularly bad argument, Casey left. All he took from the home was his favorite three-piece suit, work related items, every drawing Logan had gifted him, and a pair of shoes. He then proceeded to walk aimlessly through the dark, leaving the car behind, seeing as it was in his soon-to-be ex-wife's name.

David Anderson was leaving to go to work the following morning and was surprised to find Casey asleep on their front porch with his small box of items beside him. After rousing him and collecting his things, David put Casey to bed in one of the spare bedrooms, which ultimately became his own until the divorce was settled and Casey found a place not far from them.

Casey is a fine cook, despite everything pointing to the contrary. For a man who looks like he survives off six coffees a day with the occasional sandwich, he can fix a meal that'll leave most wanting seconds or thirds. As a thank you to the Anderson's for their hospitality to him, he cooked enough food to last them a month and provided the recipe for each dish.

When Casey first met Saga, he didn't think much of her. Figuring she'd buckle under the pressure of the job and go back home to find another career. To his surprise, she became a bright light amongst her peers. Enough so that he took her under his wing personally to teach her what knowledge he'd acquired over the years. Not realizing that in doing so, he'd not only gain a new partner, but that he'd eventually come to be adopted into a family he would cherish and gladly give his life for.

The first time he met Logan Anderson was when she was only a day old. Reluctantly entering the hospital room, the sight of Saga laid up in bed cradling her newborn daughter had pierced his hard shell in a way he hadn't thought it would. When Saga and David finally convinced him to hold Logan, he did so carefully. It was one of the first times both the new parents had seen Alex Casey genuinely smile. Teeth and all.

Logan became the brightest light Casey could remember entering his life, aside from her mother, of course. To those at the bureau, he was still the same jaded, hardened agent they'd known for years, but to those who paid closer attention, small glimpses of change appeared. Little things like a child's drawing appearing on his desk, or a coffee mug with 'My favorite Uncle' printed on it alongside a cartoon fox.

He was once ambushed on a case resulting in numerous injuries and a decent recovery time. It was the first time Logan had ever seen her uncle hurt that severely. It felt as if each time Casey woke, he'd find a small reminder that she'd been there hidden somewhere near his bed. He occasionally woke to a small kiss on his cheek. He kept one of the smaller stuffed animals she's placed on his bed. Furthermore, he always packs it in his suitcase when he's away from home, either for work or the rare rest and relaxation. Saga's never let him live it down.

The angriest he's ever been, besides numerous incidents with his ex, was when he saw a group of older kids shove an eight-year-old Logan to the dirt at the playground. Saga swears all four boys who'd bullied her daughter ran home crying when confronted by Casey.

Saga and Logan are the only ones who Casey allows close enough to snuggle. Something he'll deny until blue in the face, but on more than one occasion, either Anderson can be found using his lap as a pillow while he uses said time to catch up on some reading.

[talisverse]

I've always kinda wanted to know how your versions are similar/different from the ogs, story wise i mean! you already have wonderfully different visual designs! you've probably talked about some of their stories before I probably just missed it (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

I have talked about their backstories, there on this blog somewhere. I don’t know which version of the rogues to compare them to though. I’ll just give a brief summary.

Edward: hosts a game show for his crimes, very book smart (trivia), cringe fail, divorced

Jervis: looking for his childhood friend Alice, invented a dream machine at Wayne Tech, trapped in a wonderland dream while awake

Scarecrow: parents were both doctors, murdered his father after mother’s death, worked at Arkham as a psychologist, special connection to crows since childhood

Arnold: worked on a puppet tv show, detective scare face tried to solve a real murder on set, now they interfere with police investigations for blackmail and other gain

Babydoll: I think she’ll be the same as BTAS

Joker: professional clown that never laughed, the circus collapsed/burned which he found hilarious, unsure of where the joker toxin comes in

Poison Ivy: plant scientist, got her DNA altered after a lab accident, becomes a carnivore, has a vendetta against humans

Harley Quinn: therapist in Arkham, wanted a silly fun lifestyle, humdrum until she met Joker, they become best friends, joker toxin unsure??

Catwoman: lives on the streets, wanted to be a magical girl since childhood, steals from the rich and gives to the poor

Polkadot man: experimented on since childhood to gain superpowers, mother wanted him to be a hero, perpetually sick due to alien parasites (dots), currently quarantined in Amanda Waller’s facility

Bookworm: works at public library, funding cut and threaded to close, other options didn’t work so he resorted to crime for money, anger issues

Mad mod: British fashion designer, kept mod fashion alive, thinks he deserves to be queen of England, inspired by Teen Titans episode “revolution”

Calculator: college student, major in robotics and computer science, main character syndrome, loves mecha anime, making his own mech suit (the calculator)

Hugo Strange: works at Arkham in pharmacy, regularly mixes medicine and creates something new, random patients fall victim to testing them, original creator of fear toxin

Mr Freeze: scientist working in Artic lab, wife sick in Gotham hospital, neglect caused her to pass before he could find a cure

[pain-is-too-tired]

More divorced Leeluke thoughts

Some time Post Luke's betrayal Lee doesn't get much sleep.

Partly due to staying in the infirmary to keep an eye on Percy's vitals why he's still recovering from the scorpion sting, and partly because his mind won't settle.

He's felt like he's been stabbed in the chest, rush of emotions hit him at once.

Most people don't notice how much it effected him of course, except for Michael who's constantly trying to get his older brother to rest. He didn't know Luke long, but seeing how hurt his brother was made him furious. An anger he kept(and was aspirated by Lee's later death) until the end of the war.

Lee put all his energy into camp afterwards. He became defensive over the Stolls and was completely hard broken when Chris left. Though he wasn't as angry at the kid, knowing how close Chris had been to Luke he was expected, but it still hurt.

Any time anyone tried to say anything about the Stolls or the Hermes cabin, Lee did not take it, chewing anyone who said a thing out.

They became the main big brother figure in camp. He did a lot more for keeping kids from joining the Titans then Chiron let's be honest, he knew where they came from. But it also was able to remind them that the Titans were just a earlier link in the chain that was the mess of Immortals.

He took care of camp, and showed most new kids around, and helped them find a place. Why Luke tended to fuel their bitterness towards the gods, Lee fueled their independence. They didn't need the gods approval to be something great. To be loved.

Lot of that stimmed from his childhood. His mortal parent wasn't a cruel parent. But they were desperate for love. Lee's stepfather was a manipulative type. Seemed kind on the surface, but had to get his way. He was always right, and he's make you feel bad if you weren't. A self centered man that drained Lee to live with. Lee's stepfather's love was conditional, but Lee learned to make his own rules to be loved. He took control of his own life and love and kept that when he got to camp.

If Apollo wanted their love, he'd have to love in return.

So,in reality it scared Lee after Luke's betrayal. That fear that he was just like their mother, found love in someone who didn't really scare to put equal work into the relationship like they did.

Of course Luke did love Lee, even if he doesn't realize how much until after he left. But by then it was much too late. Luke tried multiple times to get Lee on his side, but he was rejected each time. Even kicked in the crotch once. Really he was lucky he didn't get a arrow between the eyes. Lee was pissed. And Luke was much too wrapped up in his own emotions to understand why.

To Lee he had started to feel like all those years working together and supporting eachother wasn't anything to Luke. Those sleepless nights Lee spent trying to help Luke heal from his past. Those nights they spent trying to get Luke to focus on the love he had now, not the one Luke craved. Those days that Lee had Luke rest why he took over his duties as he knew he had a lot on his place with the Hermes cabin. Even if the Apollo cabin was almost as big. Those nights after Luke came back from his quest, that they sat why Lee cleaned and tended to his stitches in his face. They felt those were all just passing time to Luke.

Part of them blamed himself, he felt like a kid again, asking if he really didn't love enough that those around him were desperate enough to latch into unhealthy relationships instead.

But they had to remind themselves that Luke made his own decision. They gave their all to love Luke, he chose Kronos on his own accord. Lee couldn't put that on themselves.

Luke despite all his despite attempts to get Lee back to him, already ruined his chances. He fumbled bad.

Luke questioned himself. Plenty of times. But Luke feared death. He feared not being remembered like the heroes before. He idolized those stories even if he didn't realize it.

Lee? He feared no death if it was for those he loved. He stared the Drakon right in the eyes, and he used his fear to keep going.

Luke's fear lost him his body and Lee.

Lee's willingness to face his head on left to those he cared about fighting another day.

Luke never could get Lee back. Even if he lived. Especially if as many Apollo kids died in the way they did in canon. No matter how much he loves him and tells him he does. Luke should know just how little promises of love matter when actions prove other wise.

[phoenixinthefiles]

"HEALTHY" part. 4 ...🔷

It's been a month and some change but I'm still here for this @vhstown @daydreaming-en-pointe @noharaaa (idk if you're into the batfam nini but lemme know if you didn't want me to tag you for it) it's also on ao3

Damian keeps a small smile on his face the whole way to the airport. 

It's not because he's actually happy, but because it's part of his (barely formed) plan.

His grandfather often told him that he was born to conquer the unconquerable, and that he had the power to subdue an enemy in is blood.

Not that he's comparing the new baby to dangerous foes, his grandfather's just never given him...domestic advice. What do you expect from a war veteran?

The point is: Damian is an al Ghul. He was born with a mind made to draft plans in dire situations. Honestly, grandfather would be appalled to know that it had taken him this long to devise a plan of action. He'd found out about the baby a month ago not to mention the fact that his parents have been formally divorced for well over a year.

Wasting time like that would have been fatal in war. 

Dick glances at him in the rearview mirror when the pull into the airport parking lot but Damian doesn't let the smile slip from his face. 

He does hate airports, and he doesn't want to leave, but he has to.

His goal is to keep from having to fly again in the future; he can't accomplish that by throwing a tantrum in the parking lot. At this point he actually needs to get on the plane; grandfather is the likely the biggest supporter of the divorce, but if Damian is subtle enough, he may be able to extract information from him. 

And the only way to do that is to walk through the private airport that should have flooded from all the tears he cried in it, and board the al Ghul private plane.

He's barely out of the car and Dick is already by his side fretting over him.  

"You sure got everything."

Damian nods as he slings on his backpack.

His brother nods and then kneels on the disgusting concrete and looks him in the eye.

"I mean you're on your own with your mom, but I could probably talk Bruce into letting you stay in Blüd for a few more days. So are you sure you're ready?"

Not at all, I want to stay.

He doesn't say it, he can't say it. He has to go to 'Eth Alth'eban and talk to his grandfather. He has to keep up his facade and not let anyone know what's actually going on in his head. He has to draft up an actual plan to get his family back. 

He has to walk through this airport, that somehow reeks of bleach and is still dirty, and board a flying tunnel of titanium if he wants to truly be happy. 

And he wants that more than what temporary comfort he may find if he stays with his brother for a little longer. 

"I'm fine Richard."

His brother nods and takes his hand before standing, because for some reason his older siblings insist on holding hand when they're out in public. Dick is the only one Damian doesn't put up a struggle with.

He does send his brother a token glare when the man smiles down at him.

As they walk through the building Damian is glad, he decided to leave his suitcase at the Manor. He still lives there so it doesn't matter if he leaves his close there, and despite the fact that his family uses a private airport, check-in is still a nightmare.

They literally own the airport, why does it matter that Dick isn't flying?

As they get closer to lounge where Bruce and Talia are waiting, Damian's chest starts to tighten. 

His brother clearly picks up on his anxiety. Dick gives his hand a squeeze and looks down at him with a sympathetic smile.

Damian manages a small, genuine smile back and steels his heart. 

His mother is sitting on one of the sofas, ramrod straight and staring straight ahead. While his father stands at the bar facing the doorway, he instantly plasters a smile on his face when he sees Damian and Dick walk in.

They were arguing.

They're always arguing, Damian tells himself.

The seven-year-old further consoles himself with the fact that, should talking to his grandfather prove productive, there won't be any arguing by the time the baby comes. 

Well maybe some. Before the divorce his mother and father often bickered playfully.

Before the divorce, he never remembered anything from his early days, but after everything was finalized, it seemed his brain knew he needed to be cheered up and suddenly he could recall everything. 

He'd only been three and he was in the kitchen trying to convince an eleven-year-old Jason to give him his grapes. 

He'd managed to manipulate his brother by widening his eyes, pouting, and tearing up. Jason had always been soft for him.

His mother and father had watched the entire interaction and his mother tutted over him and shot his father a mischievous smirk.

"I couldn't be prouder."

His father had narrowed his eyes, "I'm sure you are proud, he learned it from you."

I don't know you aren't proud; it's an important skill to have."

"Emotional manipulation?"

"You are so short minded, Beloved. Damian and I simply enjoy exercising the brains of those around us. It is not our fault you are all so soft and sentimental."

Jason, who'd been washing off more grapes at the kitchen sink, shot her a betrayed look."

Damian snaps out of his head and rushes over to hug his mother.

Despite all of his complicated feelings he still missed her sorely.

She holds him as if she knows it, because from the way she gently pets his hair, to her near silent murmur, "Shtaqtellak, Habibi,"-her entire demeanor is apologetic.

His father is different.

When Damian pulls away from his mother to turn to him the man's face screams frustrated. His brows are pressed unnaturally flat and even as he smiles his jaw ticks. 

He still opens his arms in invitation and Damian gladly accepts.

"Did you have fun with Dick?"

Damian nods, unable to find the words to verbally lie.

His father's hug feels as strong and secure as always but he's also gripping Damian like he doesn't want to let him go. 

Damian pulls away when he feels like he's about to cry. 

"Where's Jason?"

Talia clears her throat and smiles gently at him, "Your brother thought it more prudent to stay and welcome you when you get back."

So, Jason said it was a waste of time, great. Damian had been hoping his brother would be here to diffuse the tense atmosphere, or at least to distract Damian from it.

"The plane and pilot are ready, we were only waiting for you, to depart." Mashallah.

The goodbyes between his parents are quick and stilted.

Damian wraps his arms around his father's neck when the man reaches down to hug him. His father takes the silent que and lifts Damian into his arms. He sways slightly and presses a kiss to Damian's temple before putting the boy down. 

"I love you, be good."

Damian takes a deep breath...in...out.

'I love you too Baba, and I'm sure you won't hear anything about mischief." 

His mother tries to stifle a chortle behind him, and his father raises an eyebrow at the both of them.

"Because you'll on your best behavior, or because you'll be being sneaky."

"One of those."

His father rolls his eyes and ruffles his hair. Damian squawks indignantly and hurries to fix it.

"He gets that from you." 

Damian looks up at his mother, please don't take it the wrong way, please don't take it the wrong way.

She rolls her eyes and rests her hand gently on top of Damian's head, "If he manages to keep anything from you, I can only be proud."

A small smile crosses her face and when Damian turns, he sees it mirrored on his father's face.

He did it.

He said the right thing and brought those smiles to their faces. It's not much but a moment of parental camaraderie is better than nothing.

It's certainly enough to put a real smile on his face as they board the plane and his father waves to them from the runway. Well, he's likely only waving to Damian but his mother waves back. 

Despite the spaciousness, his mother chooses the sit directly next to him.

He squeezes her hand gratefully when she grasps it in hers. 

"Are you excited to return home, ya hayati?'

To half of his home?

"I'm eager to see grandfather."

Her hand tenses for a moment but she forces a small smile. Damian pretends not to notice. 

It was probably just and argument with his father.

He smiles wider to himself; those will be resolved soon.

(Levantine) Arabic: Shtaqtellak- I missed you Mashallah- God has willed it ya hayati- my life