#i grew up with my mom telling me “he acts that way because hes in pain” DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT

[ilovebeatingmywife]

why cant my dad just do things for himself once and awhile im so tired of this

[chahnniesroom]

hoju (home)

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: even though chan has been living in korea for so many years, he still considers australia to be home. when he finally has the opportunity to go back and visit, he can't wait to bring you along and introduce you to the people and places that he grew up with.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: none :)

a/n: hoju (호주) is the korean word for australia.

this was a request from my sweet 🦦 anon! thank you for the inspiration, i had fun writing this and i hope that it meets your expectations. sorry that i did not write this in chan's pov 😅 as usual, please let me know if there are any typos or mistakes because i didn't have the chance to proofread 🥲

read it on ao3 | masterlist

Chan has been acting strange lately. Not enough that you're worried, just a little bit suspicious. He's never tried to hide what tabs he has open on his phone before and he's looked deep in thought quite a few times, but when you ask what he's thinking of, he changes the topic quickly. You're curious, but trust that Chan will talk to you when he's ready. Still, you can't quite ignore all of the changes in behaviour.

It's the same tonight. When you look up during dinner, Chan's just stirring around the noodles in his plate, only taking a bite every so often. You frown, trying to think of if you've done anything differently to prepare the food in a way that he doesn't like, but it tastes the same to you as usual. You rule out a lack of appetite, as he had just commented that he was starving while you were cooking.

“Is everything okay?” you ask hesitantly, after a few more minutes have passed.

“What?” Chan looks up, startled by the sound of your voice. “Oh no, everything's fine! Just… thinking.”

“Is it about work? Did something happen?” You know that Chan has been busier than usual this month, the boys have some time off in a few weeks and everybody is scrambling to get things finished in the meantime. You've also requested vacation at work, although so far you and Chan haven't planned anything. In fact, he's been a little bit cagey when you've brought up the topic. You try not to think much of it and really, it's just nice to be able to spend extra time together.

Honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if Chan has found out that his break has been cut short or even cancelled. It's rare that they’re able to have more than a few days off at a time which is why you had been so shocked when Chan had let you know that they didn't have schedules for a period of almost three weeks.

It would provide an explanation to everything that you've observed the past few days, you know that he would try his best to fix things before he had to tell you the bad news.

“Well-”

“It's okay if you found out you can't take time off,” you reassure him. “I understand that it's all up to the company and sometimes they change their mind at the last minute. I can just let my work know and take my vacation another time, I'm sure they might even be happy if I'm still around next month.”

“No!” Chan says, his eyes wide in panic. “We still have time off! Don't worry about that. It's actually- How would you feel about visiting Australia with me?”

It's your turn to stare at Chan in shock.

“Australia?”

“Yeah, it's been a while since I went back and-” Chan breaks eye contact, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I thought it'd be nice if I could introduce you to my family, in person.”

“You want me to meet your family? In Australia?” you repeat, dumbly.

“Only if you feel comfortable!” Chan says hurriedly. “I looked into tickets, but didn't book anything yet so it's totally up to you. I also wanted to check if my family was available beforehand and it's pretty good timing actually. If you don't want to, then it's totally fine, I'll probably go for either way and I think Felix is also considering it. It's just that we've been together for a while now and I've met your family and I know that my mom basically considers you to be her daughter-”

“I want to go,” you interrupt, not wanting Chan to spiral further. “I was just surprised, I guess, but of course I want to accompany you.”

Chan brightens at that, then grabs his computer, unlocking it and opening up a spreadsheet. As it loads, he reaches for his chopsticks and takes a huge bite of food. You can't help but smile fondly at the sight of his cheeks bulging with food as he chews, relieved that his appetite is back.

“I didn’t want to get too far ahead of myself, but I was looking at flights, and I think that if we leave on a Tuesday, it might be best. It means we can enjoy the weekend here and still have time to pack everything,” he explains excitedly. “It'll be less busy at the airport too, which will be nice, and it works out well with my parents’ schedules anyway.”

You hum in acknowledgement, content to follow along and take mental notes as Chan reads out everything else that he's thought of so far. He continues planning for the rest of the evening, trailing behind you as you clean up and do your nightly routine, only stopping to help you when you do the dishes and put away the laundry. It's cute how animated he becomes, putting together a long list of all the sites and restaurants that he wants to show you.

You can tell that he's still thinking of it as the two of you curl up in bed that night, every so often you feel him jolt behind you and turn to reach for the little pad of paper and pencil that he often keeps on his nightstand.

Eventually, you turn over and squint at him. He doesn't even pretend to be asleep.

“Hi,” he whispers. “Sorry if I'm keeping you awake.”

“Sleep,” you murmur tiredly. “We have lots of time to plan, get some rest for now and we can talk more tomorrow.”

Chan starts to protest, but you just nuzzle closer, pulling his hands to wrap around you. As you drift off to sleep, you can feel that Chan has finally relaxed too.

—

The two of you spend the first day of break slowly, sleeping in and having a lazy meal of bibimbap from all the banchan taking up space in your fridge. You only venture out of the apartment for dinner, going to your favourite local restaurant that you visit so often that the owner starts making your meals the second that the two of you step through the door. The next couple of days are also easygoing, consisting of shopping, watching dramas, and eventually preparing for your trip.

Throughout the drive to the airport and making your way through security and to your gate, you can tell Chan's a bit on edge even though you and Felix try to assure him that everything will be fine. The three of you are in incognito mode, wearing hats, face masks, and plain clothes but Chan’s still scanning your surroundings the whole time. You, on the other hand, can't help but be excited, bouncing at his side so much that he loops his arm over your shoulders to try and calm you down. Felix is more relaxed and laughs at the stark contrast between the both of you, even filming parts of it since he’s getting footage for a vlog. Luckily you know that any content with you in it is likely to be edited out and don’t bother to hide your eagerness.

While Chan is used to travelling often for concerts and other overseas schedules, you've rarely visited places outside of Korea and have certainly never flown business class. You squeeze Chan's hand when you see your seats, thrilled at the idea of having so much leg room and a divider between the two of you that can also be fully lowered. It keeps you entertained for the whole time before the plane takes off, taking pictures together and reclining your seat up and down until the seatbelt sign turns on.

The flight is over 10 hours, so it doesn't take long before you move your attention to browsing the menu that's available and scrolling through all of the movies on the in-flight entertainment system. Shortly after the dinner meal is served, you start to doze off. Wanting to make the most of the experience, you insist to Chan that you'll be able to stay awake to watch another movie with him, but only make it through the first 30 minutes before you wake up to a dark screen.

You blink up blearily as a flight attendant starts making their way through the aisles, handing out customs forms for everyone to fill out. When you receive yours, you stare at it for a few seconds before realising the problem is not the fact that you're still adjusting to being awake.

“Oh no,” you whisper in horror, causing Chan to glance over at you, concerned.

“What happened?” he asks.

“I didn’t think about practising English before this trip,” you reply, distress leaking into your voice. “The last time that I wrote anything in English was when I was in secondary school… I'm not going to survive in Australia!”

“Hey, it's not an issue, I'll be with you the whole time! You don't have to worry about any of that. And you know enough conversational English to get by, I know you do,” Chan says soothingly.

You refuse to be comforted, burying your face into your hands.

“How am I going to face your parents when I barely know anything other than ‘hi, how are you?’” you moan. “I'm not even going to make it through customs! They're going to arrest me when I can't answer any of their questions!”

You know that you're exaggerating, but it makes Chan laugh so hard that tears gather in the corners of his eyes. You try to keep up your act, but end up dissolving into laughter too at the way that Chan is trying so hard to stay quiet, not wanting to bring attention to you two.

Contrary to your fears, you manage to deplane, get through customs, and collect your luggage without any major issues. You had a moment of anxiety when Chan and Felix split up from you since you have to go into the lineup for foreign passports, but you are somehow able to fumble your way through the conversation with the border officer without being detained.

Felix splits up with you shortly after, you see that his tiredness from the long flight melts away the second that he sees his family. He gives you and Chan both a quick hug to say goodbye before running out to meet them.

Chan lights up in a similar way when he finally spots his parents. They're waiting in the pick-up zone and waves the two of you over quickly. You barely get the chance to say hi before Chan’s mother is enveloping you into a hug.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she says warmly. “Come on, let’s take you home.”

The drive is fairly short and it feels like no time at all before you’re approaching the house. The second that the front door opens, you hear a distinctive scrabble of claws against hardwood before Berry shoots towards Chan, tail wagging furiously. Chan immediately kneels down to give her better access, laughing when she stands on her hind legs to lick at his face.

Once she’s finished with that, she turns to you, barking curiously before moving closer. You stick out a hand for her to get an idea of your scent and try not to jump when you feel the cool, damp press of her nose against your palm. Whatever Berry smells, she approves of, giving you a few quick licks before running back to Chan.

“She’s so cute!” you exclaim, pulling out your phone so that you can take a picture of the reunion. You don't think that Chan even hears you, caught up in talking to Berry, giving her kisses and allowing her to do the same.

“I'll help you with your bags,” Chan's father says from beside you, easily lifting them out of your hands and motioning for you to enter the house. You exchange greetings with both of Chan's siblings as you remove your shoes, familiar with them through video calls and the one time that you met Hannah when she was travelling in Korea.

Chan’s family recently moved so this was also Chan’s first time seeing the house in person, the two of you trailing behind Chan’s father as he gave you a brief tour of the first floor before leading you upstairs. When you get to the guest room that you'll be staying in, Hannah pops her head in.

“Chris doesn’t spend enough time in Australia to have his own room in this house, so you guys are in this room.” She eyes you for a moment and based on the mischievous smile that’s growing, you can guess what she’s about to say. “Y/n, if you get sick of him, then feel free to stay with me instead!”

“Hey!” Chan complains, not even looking up from where he’s unpacking his bag. He grabs onto one of his shirts and chucks it at Hannah, but she easily dodges, throwing one of her slippers at him in retaliation. It hits Chan right in the chest and he looks at her in disbelief. He abandons his task in favour of chasing her throughout the house. You don't follow after, but you hear as their yelling and laughter echoes through the halls.

It’s refreshing to see Chan at home, no matter how comfortable Chan is with the rest of the kids, he’s still the leader of the group and the oldest member and the dynamic of their relationship reflects that. Even though it has barely been a few hours, you’re relieved to find that Chan has left behind the stresses of being an idol and can instead just be a son and an older brother.

His parents are hilarious and kind, it’s easy to see how Chan’s personality is a reflection of the environment that he was raised in. During dinner, you laugh at the way Chan pouts dramatically when Chan’s father pretends to forget about Chan when serving the food and how he groans in pleasure when he finally gets to taste his mother's cooking after so long. Hannah and Lucas continually crack jokes as you eat, especially if they're at Chan's expense and he pretends that he doesn't find them funny.

—

One afternoon you find Chan fiddling with the camera that he’s brought with him. You step up behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Are you planning on filming tonight?” you ask, knowing that Chan was always careful to alert everyone in the house beforehand.

“Not today,” he replies. “Probably tomorrow, when I take out Berry for her morning walk. Did you want to join?”

“Of course!”

“I was thinking of going right after breakfast, before it gets too hot out,” he says as he pulls out the camera battery and fits it into the charger.

“Anywhere in particular you wanted to go?”

“Mmm, maybe by the water? There's a path that's not too far away. I don't want anything that's too close to the house, you know?”

“Good idea.”

“Are you planning on putting it into a vlog?” you ask curiously. "You haven't been filming much.”

"Actually…”

“What? You're making me nervous.”

“I was hoping to use it for a music video,” Chan says sheepishly.

“What?! I'm not qualified for that!! I can't- you need to find someone else-”

“No no, it's going to be fine! It's for a record, not like, an actual music video.”

“I don't know,” you say, still feeling hesitant.

“I promise, I'm going for the casual vibes and it's either you or like, my eomma, and I guarantee that you would do a better job.”

“Okay,” you say reluctantly. “But I can't guarantee it'll come out well.”

“Thank you! I know it'll be great,” Chan says, showering you with kisses in gratitude until you're squirming away.

—

The next morning, Chan’s parents are out, leaving all the kids to prepare food on their own. It's a little chaotic, but you manage to cobble together a decent meal. It's a lot of fun to see how Chan and his siblings interact without their parents around to mediate. You're amazed by how similar the three are, not only in appearance but also the way they behave.

Although much younger, Lucas shares a strong resemblance to Chan, especially once he smiles and shows off matching dimples. They quickly disappear once Chan reaches out and musses up his hair playfully as you’re all cleaning up.

“Chris, stop it,” he complains, pushing his older brother away before trying to fix the strands that are all over the place. It only encourages Chan to move closer, wrapping his arms around his brother and lifting him into the air. When trying to wiggle free doesn’t work, he turns pleading eyes to you, knowing Hannah wouldn't step in to help. “Noona! Get him to let me down!”

The two of you had been awkward the first time you had been left alone, it hadn’t helped that Lucas’ Korean could be considered conversational at best and your English was significantly worse, but you had quickly grown close through attempts to tease Chan. Now, it’s easy to treat him like the little brother you never had.

You approach quickly, trying to avoid Lucas’ flailing limbs, and reach out to poke at Chan’s waist. He twitches away from your touch and when you persist in prodding at all his ticklish spots, unwinds one of his arms to swat at your hand.

The distraction is enough for Lucas to break away and he quickly moves out of reach. Instead of chasing after him, Chan turns his focus to you. You back away nervously, but find yourself with nowhere to go. Chan grabs you and easily slings you over your shoulder, ignoring your shrieks of protest.

“Betrayed by my own girlfriend? I should have known that introducing you to my siblings would just be asking for trouble,” he growls in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Hey! Where are you taking me?” You look to see if his siblings are going to rescue you, but they must be trying to avoid Chan's wrath as you don't see either of them as Chan brings you up to the guest room.

“I am enlisting your help,” he says casually, as if he wasn't carrying you up a flight of stairs and dropping you on the bed. “I would like your advice on what to wear for Berry's walk.”

“Ooh,” you say. “Very important business then, I'm honoured that you would ask me.”

It doesn't actually take much time to get ready, the two of you change into clothes for the heat and you just have to convince Chan that he doesn't have to try to do his hair or makeup. The second that you mention to Berry that you're going for a walk, her tail starts wagging non-stop and she even fetches her leash and drops it in front of you.

Chan doesn't give you much direction for filming, just hands you the camera and tells you to capture whatever you want. The two of you walk hand in hand through the neighbourhood, Berry happily exploring the area. As you get further away from the house, you let go of Chan, motioning for him to continue walking as you turn on the camera and get used to it.

By the time you've reached the waterfront, you're feeling more confident and have a better idea of what you like. You try out different angles, feeling a little bit like paparazzi, and after a few minutes, even try directing Chan too. You let him keep going, wanting to see how far away he'll go before he realises that you're not following. He's almost a block away before he turns back.

“You’re smiling, did it come out okay?” Chan asks as he jogs back towards you.

“Yeah, it was great! I was just thinking that Stay are going to go crazy over this,” you tell him.

“They do really like it whenever they get to see Berry,” he says thoughtfully, picking her up and scratching her head. You burst out laughing at that and Chan frowns in response and goes as far as to cover Berry’s ears, insulted on her behalf. “What? Don’t laugh at that, it’s true! Berry is just so cute.”

“I’m not saying that they don’t like Berry, of course they do. I was more referring to the fact that the video is… domestic. Very boyfriend.”

“Ooh you think that's what Stay are interested in?” he asks. “What about this?”

He gestures for you to lift up the camera, and once you're recording, grabs your hand to pull you along behind him. You let out a small noise of surprise as he tugs on your arm, struggling slightly to keep everything steady and ensure your hand is out of frame. At your sound, Chan looks back slightly and bursts into laughter.

“So concentrated, you’re so cute,” he giggles.

“Of course,” you grumble. “I want it to turn out nice.”

“Thank you,” Chan says sincerely, no traces of laughter in his voice. “I really do appreciate it a lot that you're helping me with work even though we're on vacation.”

“Hmm,” you say, turning away from him. “You're just glad that you didn't have to ask Hannah, because she would make fun of you the whole time.”

“That's not true! I mean, it is true that Hannah would do that, but that's not the only reason.” Chan uses your connected hands and pulls you close. “I also wanted to spend time with my favourite person in the whole world.”

“You're lucky I love you so much,” you sniff, still pretending to be annoyed even though you've practically melted into Chan's hug. “Now stop getting distracted, I thought it would look nice if you walked along the sand and there's nobody there right now.”

—

The rest of your time in Sydney is a whirlwind of activities. Chan is determined to take you to all his favourite places in the city and you eat more food than you thought possible. Chan’s family, and sometimes Felix and his family, accompanies you two for a majority of the outings and your initial hesitance interacting with them is replaced by fondness, eased by the way that they treat you like one of their own.

You even have a chance to meet some of Chan’s childhood friends, ones that he kept close with despite the long distance. It feels strange to eat dinner with them. Although they do their best to make you feel welcome, they have a lot of history together and you find yourself struggling to keep up with their conversation, not just because of the language barrier but due to references to people, places, and events that you're unfamiliar with. Regardless, you're glad to finally know the people that Chan grew up with and you love seeing how happy Chan is to be reunited with them.

It’s also nice that while you're meeting so many people, you don't have to hide your relationship at all. In Korea, you and Chan are more careful in public. It’s not totally a secret that you’re dating, but you are more on the cautious side due to the popularity of Stray Kids and inevitable scrutiny from fans. In Australia, Chan has no such reservations, excitedly introducing you as his girlfriend to everyone. It never fails to make you blush, feeling shy, but secretly pleased.

Wherever you go, Chan keeps you close to his side, linking your hands or looping an arm around your shoulders. Throughout the day, he presses kisses to your head or cheek. The first time he does it, you look up at him questioningly. He just shrugs, saying that he’s happy and well, you can’t argue with that.

You don’t want your vacation to end and you know you're not the only one. You and Chan have both procrastinated packing your luggage until the last possible moment, and when you finally do begin, Berry seems to sense it. She starts hiding all of your things- Chan's family members finding them lodged in one of the couch cushions or in her dog bed- and curling up inside your suitcase, making it practically impossible to continue packing.

When Chan enters your shared room and pauses when he sees you staring into the suitcase helplessly. You wave him over so that he can look inside.

“She’s too cute! Look at that little face, how could you disturb her?” you ask.

Chan has no such reservations. He reaches in and gently lifts Berry out, cradling her against his chest so that she can’t jump back in.

“Berry, do you want to come to Korea with us?” he asks patiently. When she licks at his face in reply, he groans and pretends to lower her back into the suitcase. “Ah, I guess we have no choice but to bring you! I think we can sneak you in with the rest of the souvenirs that we’re taking with us.”

Despite Chan’s promises, Berry ends up staying behind, not even joining you on the drive to the airport. You’re lucky that you decide to leave well before your flight is expected to depart as you end up taking almost half an hour saying goodbye to everybody.

You know that you’re going to treasure these memories for a long time and you’re certain that Chan will too. It’s amazing that even though you were only in Australia for a couple weeks, it already feels like a second home.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

[delulustateofmind]

JJK x Reader: I wanna get you pregnant!

Not in the way that you think! 

Characters: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, and special guest….Yuki! 

TW: Pure fluff/Crack, Use of Pet names, reader in majority of my fics is a non sorcerer (to make it more reader like, y’know?), Sexual implications: Spanking, sex, use of toys (mentioned if you squint) Yuki is feeling spicy. 

A/n: My husband absolutely despises me when I ask if I can get him pregnant. Why have such a nice ass? If I cannot breed? Such a cruel world :( 

Satoru- Ah hoho, sexy time? 

You sent him one little text:

"Hey baby! ❤️ Let’s get you pregnant! :))) I’m ovulating!”

Satoru, ever the over-eager husband, misread it completely. In fact, he practically sprinted from grading papers all the way home, like the little lovesick husband he was. By the time he stepped through the front door, he was already loosening his belt, eyes bright with a singular focus.

“My sweet little pookie, where are you? I am totally ready to breed your cute ass!” he called out in a sing-song voice, finally tracking you down in the bedroom, where you were lounging, giggling over some fanfiction SMAU—whatever that was.

"Baby," he repeated, bright blue eyes sparkling with excitement, almost feral, "I am here to knock you up."

You looked up, momentarily bewildered, tilting your head as you processed the whirlwind of a man before you. First thought: how on earth did he get home so fast? Second thought: why was he acting like this?

"Satoru…" you started, eyebrows raised. “Get me pregnant? No, no, you’re bending over, and I’m getting you pregnant.” You stated it so bluntly that Satoru actually froze, his face scrunching up in confused disbelief.

"So… that wasn't a typo?" He blinked, leaning in closer. "Listen, I ain't afraid of any, uh, experimental stuff," he said with a playful grin, "but baby, you gotta give me a heads-up if we're diving into that territory. Prep work, you know?"

You weren't entirely sure if he was joking or not. Satoru was a certified freak. He’d recreate any scene you wanted with full commitment, no questions asked. Anything was on the table with him. 

"Uh…" You stared at him, cheeks burning.

His grin only grew wider, eyes dancing with mischief. “C’mon, what happened to all that confidence? What’s this about getting me pregnant?”

You squinted at him, trying to stifle a laugh as you watched the way he was practically vibrating with excitement. He had really taken that text to heart. And seemed totally fine with whoever was getting ‘bred’ concerningly. 

"Alright, alright," you sighed dramatically, pretending to roll up imaginary sleeves. "Guess I’ll have to show you how it’s done, Satoru."

"Oh, so you’re serious?” he said, his grin widening to something almost boyish, teasing. “You know, I might be the strongest sorcerer, but something tells me I’d make a damn good mom too.” He struck his tongue out with a slight giggle.

You snorted, struggling to keep a straight face. "Yeah? Then get comfortable” You were doing your best to suppress your giggles. 

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, doing his best sultry voice, “I was born ready.” He leaned back on the bed, kicking his shoes off dramatically, completely playing along, his expression smug and ready to entertain your every whim.

Just as you climbed up beside him, he gave you a look of faux seriousness. “But first… are we gonna need a safety word here? Because you can’t just spring this on a guy without, like, a tutorial or something.”

You smacked his shoulder, laughing. "The only tutorial you need is to sit back and let me work my magic, alright?"

Satoru gasped, all mock shock. “So demanding! This was supposed to be my job tonight, you know. I came home ready to do the breeding.” He dramatically placed a hand over his chest, as if you’d wounded him. "I feel so used, so... objectified."

“Cry me a river, baby” you retorted, poking him in the ribs. “Or, should I say, ‘Mommy.’”

He gasped again, even louder, eyes wide as if he'd just uncovered a new secret of the universe. "Wait, if I’m 'Mommy'... does that make you ‘Daddy’? Because that I could get behind.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you deadpanned, trying not to laugh, “you’ll be getting behind a whole lot tonight.”

“So, are you actually going to fuck my ass or what?” Satoru practically purred as he pulled you into a loving kiss. It was going to be a long night. 

Suguru - Cute? But no.

You sent him a text. Your loving, devoted husband. The sweet, sly fox of a man you somehow managed to marry.

“Heyyyyy baby! ❤️ Can I uh… get you pregnant? MWAH!”

Suguru stared at the message for a moment, the whistle still in his mouth as he watched the first years run laps around the track. He blinked once, then twice, mentally questioning all the life choices that led him to marrying such a delightfully weird woman. With a small shake of his head, he shrugged and replied:

“No ❤️ But I can get you pregnant, princess :)”

You couldn’t help but giggle when his response popped up on your screen, kicking your feet under the desk at your cute little office job. You quickly covered your mouth to stifle the sound, trying not to disturb your coworkers. The older lady in the cubicle across from you shot you a curious glance, then simply shook her head. You’d earned a bit of a reputation as the office weirdo, but she didn’t seem too surprised. Typical you.

Later that night, after putting the twins to bed, you found yourself side-by-side with Suguru in the bathroom, both of you brushing your teeth in companionable silence. As he leaned over the sink to spit out his toothpaste, something in you—perhaps sheer impulsiveness—took over. Without a second thought, you reached out and smacked him on the ass.

For a moment, you both froze. 

You, because you were genuinely shocked at yourself. How could you possibly have the audacity to smack such a beautiful man, one who hid a surprisingly plump ass under his usual baggy sweatpants?

And Suguru… well, he slowly turned his head to look at you, an eyebrow raised, his violet eyes glinting with something dangerous and mischievous. You immediately recognized the look, and that’s when it hit you—you were in trouble. 

“Don’t,” he said, his voice so calm and smooth it made your skin prickle with nervous excitement. He took a step forward, towering over you just a little. “You’ll wake up the twins, sugar.”

Oh no. Sugar. He only called you that when he was not amused.

You gave him a sheepish smile and started to step back slowly, hands raised as if surrendering would get you out of this.

Suguru tilted his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he gave you that calm, terrifyingly serene smile. “What’s wrong, sugar?” he drawled, taking a deliberate step toward you, his eyes glinting with that unmistakable spark of playfulness. The kind of look of a predator looking at its next mean…sorry…toy.

You took another step back, hands pressed over your mouth to stifle your laughter, but the giggles kept bubbling up. “Nothing, nothing at all! Just, uh… brushing my teeth, same as you!”

“Oh, is that so?” He took another slow step forward, eyes never leaving you. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you just smacked my ass. Which, let me remind you, is dangerous territory for a sweet little wife like you.”

You backed up until your heels hit the shower door, and your escape routes were down to… precisely zero.

Suguru was enjoying this far too much, the way he loomed over you, his tone smooth and dangerously soft. “Now, sugar,” he murmured, leaning down until his face was level with yours, “you wouldn’t have been trying to start something, would you?”

You couldn’t help yourself—you burst into laughter, slapping a hand over your mouth as you tried to quiet down. “Sorry! It was just—your sweatpants—and—”

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Oh, so it was the sweatpants, huh? That’s what got you all brave?”

“Listen, I…I didn’t think!” you practically whispered, “I didn’t mean to!” Giving him the best pout you could muster, in hopes to charm your way out of this. 

Suguru raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Oh, now you want to act innocent? You’ve been a little menace all day, haven’t you?” He leaned closer, his face mere inches from yours, his violet eyes glinting with that familiar, irresistible mischief. “First, with that message, and now, this”  

“Maybe…we can call a truce?” You ventured, trying to inch around him, but he moved with grace to block you instantly cornering you against the counter with a raised eyebrow. 

“Not a chance, sugar.” His voice dropped to a low murmur, making your skin prickle with his honeyed voice. “But don’t worry. I’ll keep quiet. Wouldn’t want to wake the twins, after all.” He smiled, that same calm smile, and you realized you were dead. 

You bit your lip, but you knew you were done for. Suguru was already tilting his head, his mouth right by your ear as he whispered, “You know I don’t like to be teased, princess. And you know exactly what happens when you do.”

With a last, nervous laugh, you bolted, ducking under his arm to make a break for it. Nearly hitting the corner of the counter in the process. You barely made it past the bathroom door when you felt his strong arms wrap around your waist, effortlessly pulling you back to him. Before throwing you over his shoulder with a tap of his palm against your ass. 

“So we wanted to run?” He whispered, his tone dripping with amusement. “Cute” 

“Wait, wait, Sugu–” you tried to talk in between giggles as he was already leading you to the bedroom. Practically throwing you on the bed, before crawling on top of you. 

“You started this, Sugar,” he murmured, his voice warm and playful as he leaned down to nuzzle your neck, peppering a few light kisses. “And now you’re gonna deal with the consequences” A playful danger in his gaze. 

Yeah, you didn’t walk straight the next day and got good use out of that new gag he bought you. 

Nanami - Hahaha…Not Happening

You sent that sweet little text, along with a tantalizing selfie in the new black lace lingerie you’d picked up during your lunch break.

Nanami had been away on a mission for a few days, and you knew he’d be eager to see you again. So, naturally, you expected him to check his phone and be pleasantly surprised by the little gift you left in his messages—a photo of you looking irresistible, paired with a playful message:

"Hey Pumpkin 🎃! I was just thinking… how about I get you pregnant? Wouldn’t that be so cute? :)”

However, as luck would have it, he was sitting right next to Ino on the ride back, his stoic demeanor not faltering as he opened his phone expecting, perhaps, a picture of something you baked or a casual selfie. Definitely not a suggestive photo of you in lace and a not-so-subtle proposal.

He glanced at the screen, quickly closing his messages without so much as a reaction. Left on read.

You pouted, checking your phone again, hoping for a reply. Maybe he was busy? But as the minutes ticked by, you started to feel the anticipation—and the slightest hint of nervousness—building.

Later that night, you heard the front door open, and there he was, standing in the doorway with his usual calm, composed expression… but his gaze was focused, a little too serious.

"My wonderful wife likes to break rules, doesn’t she?” he said, his voice soft but carrying a distinct edge, as he took off his tie and closed the door behind him. You managed a nervous, wobbly smile.

“W-what do you mean?” you stammered, though you both knew exactly what he meant.

He raised an eyebrow. “What did I say about sending pictures like that to me at work?”

You swallowed, cheeks flushing, knowing full well you’d been caught red-handed. Oh, you were so screwed.

He walked over to the couch, his composure unwavering, and sat down, calmly patting his lap. “Come here,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically firm. “Over my lap. And you’re going to count to twenty.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding, but you moved toward him, knowing full well there was no getting out of this. As you settled over his lap, he leaned down, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke in that calm, measured tone that sent a thrill through you.

“Afterward,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, “I’m going to make good on that little proposal of yours until you can’t see straight.”

Yuki - Mommy? Sorry…Mommy? 

You and Yuki weren’t exactly ready for kids—far from it, actually. Every time you thought about it, you couldn’t help but remember the countless times Yuki had nearly killed Todo during their training. Still, that didn’t stop you from teasing her that she would be the one to carry the kids if you ever did decide to go down that road.

So, with a mischievous grin, you typed out a playful message:

"Mommy… sorry… Mommy? Can I please… get you pregnant 💗?

Her response came back immediately, so fast it made you giggle with excitement, kicking your little feet and a slight squeal.

"Mmm? So I have a little brat today? Good to know 💗 ✨. "

You stared at her response, heart pounding as you took in her words. A brat, huh? That wasn’t a title you earned often, but whenever Yuki bestowed it upon you, it usually meant she was in one of her rare, particularly teasing moods. You bit your lip, debating your options. Maybe disappearing for the weekend wouldn’t be the worst idea… 

You quickly considered your options. Fleeing the country was a bit extreme, but maybe a weekend in Osaka with your parents would be enough to dodge whatever Yuki had in store.

"Don’t even think about running, sweetheart. I’ll find you. I always do ;)"

You practically squeaked, knowing full well that no matter where you went, Yuki was more than capable of tracking you down. She wasn’t just a little sadistic—she was slightly crazy. You always did attract their crazies. 

Taking a deep breath, you decided to play it cool. 

“Who’s running? I’m just, uh, mentally preparing for all that, um… pregnancy talk, baby.”

You cringed a little as you hit send, knowing that your attempt to sound calm probably came off more like a nervous ramble. Her response came back almost instantly, each word dripping with that teasing edge you both dreaded and loved.

"Oh, baby, you’ll need a lot more than mental preparation. But don’t worry—I’ll take my time with you. You’ll have plenty of chances to beg.”

You felt a flutter in your tummy full of excitement that was mixed with nervousness as you read her message, knowing you were absolutely not getting out of this one. The idea of her calling you a “brat” was a warning—Yuki had every intention of putting you in your place, and you knew better than to test her when she was like this.

The thought crossed your mind to apologize, maybe even backtrack, but another part of you couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement at the challenge. You typed a quick reply:

“Well, Yuki, I guess you’ll just have to show me how much of a brat I really am, huh?”

The three little dots popped up immediately, and you barely had time to brace yourself before her reply came through:

“Oh, you can count on it, baby. Pack a bag—you’re spending the weekend with me. And don’t even think about complaining. Brats don’t get choices.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, you were so fucked. Literally.

Sidenote: Thank you for reading! I am planning on doing fluffy Mondays, a better way to start the week imo. Requests are appreciated! Open to angst requests too! I might make angsty days Fridays or Thursdays?

[thebearer]

omg the part in that one blurb where reader makes a joke about being able to skip a meal and then carmy’s just like tf did you just say is so important to me as someone that has a long (and uneasy) history with body image and healthy eating habits

i was wondering if you had blurb/general thoughts/ideas on how carmy would react to the reader having a harder than usual time with body image for whatever reason

maybe they make one too many jokes or little comments about feeling insecure and carmy’s just not having it lol

carmen, with every ounce of love i have in my heart for him, would not be good with handling that. simply because he understands not liking yourself (like the idea of it, he can't fathom why you don't) but he grew up where food was kind of an act of love. he'd never hear an "i'm sorry" ever in his life, but his mom would very much so be the type to say "i have dinner ready for you" and that was as much as an apology as he'd get.

the first time you're kinda not eating, carmen's like trying to joke with you. "the food not good? don't like it?"

and you assure him that's not it. "i just... i'm not really hungry."

carmen's confused bc you've been together all day and you only had an iced coffee in the morning. "no way." he shook his head. "you haven't eaten all day. if you don't like it, baby, it won't hurt my feelings, i promise. nothin' you can say that a chef in new york didn't say, they said worse too. just tell me what you want and-"

"-carmen, it's ok. it's really good, i'm just not really hungry." you smile. "i need to not eat today anyways. my jeans are so tight-"

"-what?" carmen thinks you're joking at first, brows creasing with a small grin. until he sees your face. "you're-you're being serious?"

"well, kinda..." you mutter.

"that's... don't say that." carmen shook his head. "please, don't-don't do that, that's insane."

your face falls at his tone, you know he doesn't mean to be so hard about it, but you can't help but feel worse, like carmen's mad at you. in a way he is, but not out of anger, out of love. out of not wanting you to hurt yourself like that.

"i just... i feel gross, and i'm starting to look it-"

"- i think you look beautiful." carmen mutters. he sounds hurt, genuinely hurt by what you're saying, like you said them to him. "i don't... i don't like that you do that to yourself." he admitted after a moment. he'd been going to therapy, working on channeling his emotions out when he felt them instead of bottling them in, leading him to an anxiety attack.

"i'm sorry." you whisper, unsure of what else to say.

"no, it's not... i don't want you to apologize or- or feel bad, i just... i felt like i should say it." carmen's eyes lifted to yours. "that you don't need to do that."

you can't help the way your chest rushes with heat, anxiously picking up the spoon in front of you. you're not sure what to say, most of the time, most guys kinda brush it off. act like it's nothing or ignore it- some agreeing. no one ever got... hurt by it like this. like you were hurting them too.

maybe it was the guilt. maybe it was the fact that carmen looked so sad. whatever it was, you weren't sure, but you were fucking hungry- and the pasta was good.

you hesitantly took a bite, ignoring carmen's eyes tracking you. "it is really good." you hum, trying to break the obvious tension in the room.

"you don't have to eat it, i-i don't want you to feel pressured to." carmen shook his head. "but i'll make you something else? could i make you something else? whatever you want."

you blushed, looking down. you knew what he meant. he was trying to help in the only way he knew how to, by cooking. "carmen-" you sigh.

"no, it's... it's not good to not eat, ya know?" carmen looked up at you. "you have to eat but-but if you don't want pasta, i get it. i'll make you whatever if that's what you want." he looked at you pointedly. "but don't ever think you need to do anything like that f'me. i think you're perfect no matter what. love you no matter what. you know that, told you i'd still love you even if you were a worm."

you snorted lightly, his reference to the tiktok trend you'd done on him a while ago. "thanks, bear." you mutter, grabbing his hand lightly. "i-i would like, if it's not too much and you have all the stuff, that greek goddess salad sydney was testing the other day? i've been craving it."

"heard." carmen nodded, standing towards the fridge.

"if it's not too much trouble-"

"-c'mon." carmen scoffed, looking at you sweetly. "it'll take me fifteen minutes max. sit down f'me, alright. i got it."

[d1onysusw1n3]

Dirty Grimes - rick grimes x reader

Tw: slight age gap (reader is 22 and rick is in his 40s) Cheating, P in V, slight bondage, rick is kind of rough. And a slight size kink. Plus squirting and creampie.

This is an AU where the apocalypse has never happened! Carl is a collage student who was a childhood friend. Lots of plot but I will give a warning on where the smut starts so if u want to skip the plot and head straight to the spice, do as u please!

“C’mon baby it’s not that bad, stop worrying about shit.” Carl huffs shaking his head in a annoyed way.

Look I love him to death Don’t get me wrong, but I dread coming over to his parents house over the holidays. My father ran out on my family when I was little, my mom was diabetic and she always had hospital bills up to her neck. So I was a bit of a problem child, until high school came and I worked my ass off for a full ride scholarship to Stanford. I’ve known Carl since middle school he always had a crush on me but I’d shoot him down and tell him when we get older we’d get married. Well I guess that wish came true.

I look down at the huge diamond on my finger. Me, Y/N summers, becoming a grimes? Who would’ve thought it. When I said yes it felt like the world stopped, but as time went on Carl got distant, stressed. He seemed easily annoyed by me. Plus that fact that I can’t help but to be scared of his father. Sherif grimes. He caught me vandalizing a classroom with spray paint once in middle school. He scared me shitless, but Carl stood up for me and helped my mom bail me out. Safe to say whenever I come over Rick always seems so, intense. The way he carries himself as if I’m a rabbit and he’s waiting to pounce on his prey. It scares me shitless, to be frank! And his marriage hasn’t been doing to good, last time I came over Lori and him wouldn’t talk or extange glances, no his eyes were too busy studying me, picking me apart as if he’s trying to read me like a book.

“Just calm down, you’re overreacting like usual.” Carl says as he brings the car to a stop, placing it in park. I scoff shaking my head at his antics.

“Overreacting? That’s what you want to tell your fucking fiancé before she tells her future in laws that she’s getting married to their son?” I scoff.

“I’m done arguing with you.” he sighs running a hand through his long hair. “It’s only arguing because you can’t have a normal conversation without acting like you hate me!” I scream frustration enveloping my body. “I should’ve never asked you to marry me then, my sincerest apologies.” He coldly says while walking out the car to the front door without me. I sit back contemplating what he just said. It broke my heart. I catch up to him wiping the tears that escaped my face, my eyes puffy and nose red, but I guess I can chalk it off as the allergies during spring break. He knocks and to my surprise Lori opens the door, yet I could see the clunky mascara and the bloodshot puffy eyes. She had been crying.

“Hiii! Oh my baby’s back” she smiles widely a genuine smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes like usual, and that glow that had once been her flame, has been burnt out into ash. It’s apparent on her hunched shoulders and the way she frowns when nobody looks.

“And look at you Y/N! All grown up and in collage.” She smiles and hugs me tightly. I always loved Lori, she was sweet to me, because she knew I grew up less fortunate than others.

“Hi lor how you doing?” I smile as I embrace her into a tight hug. I could feel her hiccup and take deep breaths.

“I’m living, at least I can be grateful for that.” She smiles tightly as she sees rick walk down the stairs to us.

“Hey, you wanna talk later?” I ask nudging her. She just nods and puts her fake smile back on as rick walks right past her and to Carl.

“Hey! My boys back.” He hugs Carl tightly while leaning back gripping his shoulders. “Man your old now! what’re you like fifty?” Rick teases as Carl rolls his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “Tha’d make you what? About seventy?” Carl quipped back and rick holds his hand to his heart. “Touché.” Rick smirks as he looks over to me. Instead of his usual crossed arms and tough guy demeanor, he was cuddly today because he wrapped his arms around my waist pulling me in for a generous hug. “How’s my daughter in law huh!” He jokes.

“Doing just fine.” I smile lightly at him. Though in the inside my heart was crushed into a million pieces.

“Well common in dinners ready just in time!” Lori beams walking away, she turns around first motioning to the kicthen. “You wanna help me prepare food Y/N?” She says. I just nod giving Carl a look, he doesn’t even turn to me and ignored my presence, though rick noticed because he turned to me.

“Everything okay?” He asks.

“Peachy.” I reply glaring at Carl while turning and storming off to the kitchen.

As soon as i step in I see Lori breaking down sobbing while holding her mouth to quiet her crying.

“Hey what’s wrong?” I walk up rubbing her shoulder.

“I have been having an affair with ricks partner Shane and he found out about it.” She comes clean.

“And I’m-“ she purses her lips.

“I’m pregnant with his child.” She says sobbing as her shoulders shook.

“It wasn’t supposed to get this bad! I mean rick and I were on a break and it was one time that turned into more times then rick and I got back together and I told him no, but we still went at it anyways a-and I took a pregnancy test and Rick found it.” She spits out fast in her shaky voice.

“I’m so stupid.” She sighs.

“I agree with you on that. There’s so many different ways you could’ve handled this Lori, if you weren’t happy with Rick why didn’t you just tell him?” I frowned at her.

“What about Carl.” She gasps.

“You’re just gonna have to explain things to him, he’ll understand in time.” I say hugging her. We break off setting up the food in the table while calling the boys in to eat. The rest of the night went pretty smooth, everyone laughed a had a good time, well then there was rick, whenever I’d send a nasty look to Carl he’d tune in looking at me with those intense eyes.

“Alright I have something to announce!” I smile as fake as I could. “Carl asked to marry me.” I hold up my hand showing my ring. Out of the side of my vision I could see rick clench his jaw. But Lori gasped while clapping in excitement.

“Oh my baby’s all grown up!” She starts tearing up.

“I’m so happy for you son.” Ricks rasps. Though he looked furious. Cark just tightly smiles wrapping an arm around my waist.

As night fell me and Carl crashed in his childhood room. His walls were filled with comics and superhero’s. I change into my sleep clothes which were some panties and one of carls shirts, I didn’t bother putting on pants, it was way to hot in the summer time. Carl was dead asleep snoring an all, I had a hot flash and was sweating balls. I sigh getting up to walk downstairs and drink a cold glass of water. as I reach the cabinet in the kicthen I stand on my tippy toes trying to reach the last glass on the tallest shelf. I felt a warm calloused hand grip my waist pushing himself against my rear. I could tell it was rick, by his bulky hands and his white tee that was scented of pine and whisky. A man’s scent. Usually it would ick me out, overly manly men, but something about rick made my thighs clench and my tummy flip. I shake my head trying to ban these criminal thoughts of my fiancés father. I call his wife mom so gods sake, pull it together Y/N.

“I saw you strugllin, thought you might need some help.” His raspy voice sounded as sexy as usual, with his thick southern accent.

“Thank you Rick.”

“No problem, sweetheart.” He smirks down at me. He had me slightly caged to the counter, with my ass pressed right against his crotch. I could feel his cold belt buckle pressed tightly to my tramp stamp I got when I was 17. Apparently my shirt rode up my waist when I was struggling to reach for a cup, cause I could feel the cold ac on my bare back. I slightly moved away pulling down my shirt while walking to the fridge grabbing ice and water. I sit down on the island in the kitchen as rick pours himself a glass of whisky while leaning on the counter across from me.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He gruffly says handing me the shot of whisky he poured. I gingerly take it from his hand as my fingers brush his, it sent goosebumps down my spine.

“It was too hot upstairs, I needed some air.” I say with a tight lipped grin. I shot back the whisky quickly sliding the glass back to him, he fills up the whisky glass again but this time he take it down with no struggle, licking the corner of his mouth as some dripped down his chin. I could feel myself clench around nothing. That had to be the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.

“Lori told you bout Shane, huh?” He chuckles shaking his head. I could see the tears brim his eyes. I couldn’t help but to feel bad for the man. His wife is pregnant by the man he called his brother.

“Yeah.” My throat suddenly felt dry.

“I’m sorry Rick.” I say chewing the bottom of my lip.

“Don’t be sweetheart, iss alright.” He huffs.

“We were arguing before that as it is anyway, it was bound to happen.” He shakes his head. While he looks down he nods over to your ring.

“So engaged huh? Carl better be treatin you well.” He swallows thickly as his intense blue eyes scan over my body. I felt like a peace of meat.

“He treats me just fine.” I clear my throat.

“Does he though?” Rick quips back. My jaw slacks in shock, not knowing what to say.

“I say you arguing in the car from the window. Seemed like whatever he said hurt?” He presses on.

“He said he wished he never asked to marry me.” I swallow thickly and slightly chuckle as tears run down my cheeks.

“Maybe I’m sensitive, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt like hell.” My wobbly lips smile at him. I look down as tears run down my cheeks. Rick slowly stalks towards me, running his calloused thumb across my cheek collecting my tears.

“What a shame. If you were mine, I would treat you better sweetheart.” He whispers.

At first I couldn’t believe his words. If I were his?

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!SMUT STARTS NEOOOW >-<!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“What do you mean rick?” I whisper back. I could feel the tension between us, so thick it was hard to breathe.

“What I said sweetheart. I could treat you better.” He slowly trails his hands up my thighs in a soothing back and fourth motion.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He whispers trailing his hands up my shirt gripping my breasts firmly as his thumb nudges the bud of my breasts massaging them slowly.

I gasp leaning into his touch while rubbing my thighs together for friction. It’s been awhile since Carl had touched me. I was horny and deprived.

“Y/N tell me to stop, and that this is wrong.” He groans out as he feels my legs wrap around his hips bringing his crotch right down into mine. I moan slightly tilting my head back.

“Can’t, feel s’to good.” My words slurr as I could feel pleasure running up and down my spine in waves. Rick bends down trailing hot sloppy kisses down my neck into my collar bones, sucking at the sensitive spot making me grind down onto him. He growls gripping my hips pulling me back down onto him. I could feel him grinding himself down into me. His chest heaves in needy breaths. I couldn’t help but to whine, it felt so wrong dry humping my fiancés father in his childhood kitchen, but it felt so good at the same time.

“Need you rick.” I moan out.

“Please.” I frown at him showing off my best puppy eyes. I could feel his dick pulse against me.

“Don look at me like that, sweetheart.” He warns. I quickly slide off of the counter dropping to my knees. I trail my hands up ricks black jeans to his thighs and then to his belt. He doesn’t stop me, he just leans against the counter as i tug his jeans and underwear down to his ankles. His dick springs up close to my face. I could see the intricate veins and precum leaking off his pink puffy tip. I slowly get closer placing a peck on the top of his cock. He grunts as his abs contract in pleasure. I slowly take his tip in my mouth hollowing out while flipping my tongue on the base of his cock flattening it out. He groans deeply sucking in a sharp breath. I swallow more of him down my throat with ease. He moans leaning foreword on the counter I was leaned up against, I could feel his hips thrusting in my mouth. I set my hands to the side as he starts thrusting rougher. His small moans and gasps escaping his throat as I could feel him close to his edge. He quickly pulls out lifting my little body up with ease slamming me on top of the counter.

“Such a good girl huh?” He huffs. “If Carl won’t take care of my baby than I will.” He rips my panties off shoving them in his pocket. Getting down on his knees he kisses my cunt and flattening his tongue on my entrance slowly bringing it up to my clit. He begins to ravage my cunt in fast and needy licks and nibbles. It was so hard for me to be quiet as this was probably the hottest sex I’ve ever had. I felt my legs shake on his shoulders and my arms start to wiggle and give out. Rick stands up wiping off his lips that once were sucking needy at my cunt.

“Lay down baby, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you” his raspy voice soothes my nerves as he lines his tip up to my cunt. He pushes in and I almost came from the sheer thickness of his cock. The way it fills me up and stretches my cunt had me salivating. I couldn’t feel a condom though. And my heart skipped a beat.

“Rick what’re doing-“

“Shhh,” he shushes me and it drowns out all my worries. “Gotta fill my princess up? Yeah.” He starts thrusting slowly but roughly into my wet cunt. I clench down on his cock from his filthy words. “Gonna pump you full of cum” he huffs thrusting faster. My tits bounce roughly due to his thrusts. I arch my back covering my mouth to contain the erotic moans flying out. Rick rips my arms off my mouth holding them down on my stomach. “Don’t hold ur moans in.” He huffs. “Let them hear how good I make you feel.” He growls somehow speeding up fucking me into oblivion as I could feel his dick curve up and hit my G spot with every thrust. I couldn’t hold in my moans anymore and I’m pretty sure the next door neighbors heard me. “That’s my good girl, let them know your my slut.” He whimpers as my cunt clench’s tight around his cock. “You like that huh?” His raspy voice chuckles. “Knowing you’re my slut, how I’m filling you up better than he does mmmh.” My lips quiver and I feel my legs shaking. “R-rick I’m about to cum.” I complain trying to push him off. He doesn’t slow down a bit as he brings up an arm rubbing my clit furiously as he snaps his hips down onto mine. “Cmon baby it’s okay, cum for me.” I felt the buildup finally crash down in hot electric waves. My eyes roll to the back of my head as rick relentlessly pounds my cunt not faltering a second as my orgasm hits. I felt liquid spray all over him, he moans as if that was his breaking point snapping his hips one time deep into my cunt spraying my walls white with his thick cum.

“Fuck, you take my cock so good.” He growls pushing deeper into me, filling up my cunt full. He stands there inside of me as we breathe heavily. I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that I just raw dogged my fiancés father in his kitchen. Rick pulls out staring at the cum dripping down my cunt.

“Rick,thank god I’m on the pill, or else we’d be fucked” I sigh trying to slide off the counter. He pushes me back grabbing napkins while cleaning up his mess.

“Lemmie,” he says while tenderly taking care of me. He picks me up carrying my shaky legs to carls room.

“I’m sorry it got carried away, sweetheart.” He mumbled kissing my forehead. He slowly backs up staring into my eyes intensely while walking away.

After that day I didn’t mind going over to carls over the holidays, in fact, I couldn’t wait till thanksgiving hit, even Christmas.

[billthedrake]

This is kind of a bisexual-content retelling of my Senior Week story, inspired by @pagespermer 's posts, as well as some hetero porn stories.

ODD MAN OUT

It was a joke at first. The guys on the team having guy talk, talking about the hottest moms in our friend circle. Apparently my mom was a MILF in the top 3 of fuckable moms in our high school. I felt like I should take umbrage, but I was already odd man out on our lacrosse team and maybe desperate to fit in.

Besides, Tate's mother was the main object of the leering jokes. Mrs. Walsh wasn't a typical MILF, she was like a hot sorority girl who refused to act her age. Big tits, bleach blonde hair, lots of make up, skin-tight jeans and skimpy tops. And, I don't know, she kind of doted on her jock son. Even though Tate was a senior, a tall strapping defender who was definitely scholarship material, Mrs. Tate doted on the poor guy. Showing up at all the games and hugging him after, planting a kiss on his cheek, that kind of thing.

Tate would blush and take the ribbing from the guys after.

It was consensus that Mrs. Walsh was hands-down number one fuckable mom. Like, not even a close contest. Even Tate stopped objecting when we started talking about how hot Mrs. Walsh was, and he'd shrug and admit that yeah, his mother was a real MILF.

Still, it caught us off guard one night we were partying at TJ Evanchick's place when his parents were out of town. He'd been busted for having a big party once before, so it was just four of us - me, TJ, Tate, and Mac Baroni, an attacker on the team and a dude who I thought was a complete douche at first but who I'd gotten to become friends with. It was Mac who brought me into the circle of these guys over senior year.

"Truth or Dare?" Mac asked. It was Tate's turn.

Walsh took a swig of hard seltzer and shrugged. "I dunno. Truth, I guess."

Mac got a naughty grin and asked. "Ok... you ever fuck your mom?"

It was our running joke of course. Maybe because Tate didn't seem put off by all the hot mom talk. It just egged us on to talk about banging Mrs. Walsh.

But even Mac was caught by surprise when the hunky defender got a naughty smirk of his own. "Truth, right?" he asked. Tate was probably the most conventionally good looking of us all, and if I even let my lust drive to the guys on the team he was the one I was most attracted to. Brown hair, soulful brown eyes, perfect smile, and just a killer bod, tall and built at 6'5". "This fucking stays between us," he warned.

"Oh shit," TJ exclaimed. He was saying what we were all thinking. There's no way that Tate and Mrs. Walsh could be...

"Yeah, I've fucked Mom."

In any other context we would assume it was a joke, but from the forced bravado on Tate's face and the darting look in his brown eyes, I could tell, we all could tell, the guy wasn't bullshitting.

"When, how?" Mac stammered. Then. "Fuck!"

That got a laugh out of Tate. "You have to wait till my next turn, fuckers." I could tell he was enjoying our stunned reaction. He turned to me. "All right, Mullins... Truth or Dare."

I thought for a second. "Dare."

Tate smirked. "Suck Evanchick's cock."

"Fuck no!" TJ interjected. His face grew red, and he shot me a contrite look before confronting Walsh. "Dude, that's way fucking out of line."

Tate held up his hands. "OK, OK, sorry, bro," he said to me. "That was a dick move..." he took a drink and thought for a second. "All right... three tequila shots. In a row."

My tolerance wasn't quite with these guys, but it was more than a high schooler maybe should have. I'd be hammered, but if I kept my wits about me I'd pace myself after. "Line em up," I said.

TJ picked up a shot glass and poured one. I tossed it back, pretty easy. The second one went OK, too. I had to pause for the third, my head feeling tipsy already. "Fuck it," I said, and drank that one too.

I was gonna be fucked-up drunk. Good think I was crashing at TJ's. "Truth or Dare," I slurred to Teej.

"Truth," he said.

"You ever fuck an older woman?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Nah. Total bucket list though."

Tate hissed. "Dude that was a fucking layup question."

Mac laughed. "Not all of us are motherfuckers like you Walsh."

Tate shot him the middle finger but laughed. I could tell he was strangely proud of his incestuous conquest and maybe relieved he'd shared it with us.

TJ turned to Mac. "Truth or Dare."

Mac leaned back in the chair. He'd been bulking up a lot lately and had some beefy genetics to work with. The result was more of a football player-like build that showed underneath his loose T-shirt. "Dare," he said with a "bring it" attitude.

TJ grinned. Even if he was a senior, the midfielder still had a young look to him: dimples, baby fat clinging to his cheeks, shorter frame. "All right... go in the other room and jack off to a picture of Mrs. Walsh."

Mac laughed, then pushed his chair back from the table. "You got it."

Tate shook his head. "Don't you need a picture first, doofus?"

TJ grinned. "Mac has a couple on his phone."

"You assholes," Tate said. "Is Luke the only guy not perving on my mom?"

"Pretty much," Mac said. Already he was walking behind Tate to make his way to another room.

Tate got a real naughty look on his face. "Dude... I have some better pictures if ya want..."

That stopped Mac in his tracks. "Shit... for real?"

Tate was blushing now, but that didn't stop the big jock from pulling out his phone and finding a hidden photo album. He swiped a couple of times and handed it to Mac. "For your eyes only, bro."

Mac's eyes went wide. "Fuck! OK, yeah... this isn't gonna take me long at all." He almost scurried out and down the hall.

TJ seemed flustered and horny now. "Dude, we gotta wait to get the fucking details? Come on!"

Tate looked over at me. "You OK with this Mullins?"

"Yeah," I said. "Doesn't faze me." It was crazy as fuck of course, but it wasn't my mom. And between porn and some exploratory times getting head from dudes, I was very much open to sexual self-discovery. Most of all, I loved how this secret was a bonding time between us.

My answer seemed to satisfy Walsh. "I won't tell you how long it's been going on, but yeah, we're having sex pretty regular now."

TJ's face grew pale and I thought he was getting freaked out, but it turned out that was him growing hornier at the idea. "Like, how regular is regular?"

Tate got a sly look on his face. "Bro, like every fucking day. I'm pretty sure Dad knows, too... it's fucking wild." He paused and looked intently at TJ, who I gather he trusted less than me. "Not a fucking word to anyone about this, right?"

"Scout's honor," Evanchick said, crossing his heart. "I'm just impressed, bro. You're living the dream."

Tate leaned back, a little calmer now. "You ever think about doing your mom, Evanchick?" Mrs. Evanchick was not on the fuckable moms list. She was, I dunno, just a normal mom.

"Yes and no," he admitted. "Sometimes when I jack off I go there. But in reality it would probably be too weird and fucked up."

Tate nodded. "It's totally weird and fucked up, dude." Then leaning back in, he said, "But damned if that doesn't make getting your dick wet in your own mother's pussy even hotter."

Just then Mac walked in, face flushed. He handed Tate his phone back. "Walsh, I owe you SO much for that just now... I mean... WOW!"

"Can I see?" TJ piped in. He saw Tate's hesitation. "Come on, Walsh... pretty please..."

Tate relented and pulled up the picture again before sliding it to TJ. "You want a look too, Mullins?" he asked. Not pointed or hostile, but genuinely curious.

"Nah, I'm good," I said with a drunken shrug.

Mac sat back down and took a drink. "I know you keep clammed up around us, Luke... but you ever make it with an older dude?"

I nodded, not sure how far I could go. "Sometimes, yeah," I admitted. "I think I prefer em older, actually."

"Yeah?" Mac asked. "What's the equivalent of a MILF?" Maybe Mac was the stereotypical dumb jock.

"Um, a DILF," I replied as diplomatically as I could.

That got a big laugh out of TJ. But instead of chiming in he got out of his chair. "I need a minute with Mrs. Walsh fellas."

Tate wasn't offended as TJ took his phone and walked into the other room like Mac just had. I think he was proud of showing off his hot mom.

"So... you're into DILFs, Mullins?" Tate asked.

I was. But I didn't want to get into my daddy issues. Still, my reply was the truth. "Yeah... they're really into young dudes like me. You can kind of have your way with them, actually." I was drunk now and that's probably why I was opening up.

"For real?" Tate responded. "Shit!" Then, "Good for you, bro."

"Yeah," Mac said. He was a macho dude, like most of the guys on the team, but the gay thing didn't phase him as much I expected. But he chimed in, "But can we set a new rule? No talking about who has the most fuckable dad, OK?"

"Bro, you're the one who brought it up," I reminded him.

"Touche," he said.

"You speak French now, Mac?" Tate teased. He could be an asshole, but I had to laugh.

***

It was inevitably going to happen, and maybe deep down I knew it. But it was early June and we were two weeks away from graduation. The guys on the team had somehow become even tighter lately, maybe because we'd all be going off to different colleges. Add a good dose of senioritis and the shorter leash our parents had on us, and we were partying several nights a week. We couldn't drink or get high around Evanchick's parents, but even my folks were OK with it as long no one drove. It was a real sign of something that none of the dudes made a crack about sleeping over in my bedroom.

Friday night was at Tate's house. The Walshes were pretty loaded and had a sweet backyard with a pool. That's where Mrs. Walsh found us when she came in. She was still dressed in a skirt and business attire blouse. Tate's mom was a realtor. Hell, maybe she was a good businesswoman, but those tits had to have sold half of the houses she put under contract. Even with a professional blouse, she was buxom as hell. It was pretty late in the evening and she'd probably stopped for wine with her friends or something, she just had that relaxed look about her.

"Tate," she said. "I don't want you boys in the pool, OK?" She was in Mom mode, and it didn't take me long to figure out why. We were pretty buzzed and White Claw cans were strewn around. And Evanchick had just done a cannonball into the deep end.

"Yeah, OK, Mom," Tate said, embarrassed some but he looked at us and shrugged.

"Where are my manners?" Mrs. Walsh said. "Hello Luke, Evan... Mac..."

"Hello Mrs. Walsh," Mac said dumbly. I didn't know how straight guys were wired, not really, but I had a good sense of what was going through his mind then. He'd seen a picture of Mrs. Walsh's tits, maybe more. It was impossible for him to get THAT out of his mind.

TJ was already hoisting himself out of the pool. The doofus was definitely trying to show off for Tate's mom, letting the water run down his toned athletic bod. He was shorter and more compactly muscled than Tate, but his real asset was that he legendarily had the biggest cock on the team. I'd just seen it soft in the locker room, but talk was that he had a real horse dick that was outsized to his smaller frame. His wet trunks clung to a thick lump.

I could see Tate's mom laugh some since she could read what TJ was doing as well as me. Turning back to Tate she added. "You can use the hot tub if you want." Then turning to the rest of us, she added, "Just keep the noise down fellas, OK?"

"Yes Mrs. Walsh," Mac chimed in. He was still beneath the water but his eyes were fixated on Tate's mom as she walked back inside.

"Fuck," he finally said.

"Easy, Baroni, that's my mom," Tate laughed. Kind of serious, but kind of joking.

"It's no fucking fair, man," Mac shook his head. But there wasn't really much else to say. Especially because none of us were sure we were completely out of earshot.

I could tell Mac was boned when he finally got out of the pool and I felt bad for the guy. Especially because he sheepishly looked over my way to see if I was checking him out. I'd done a lot of compartmentalizing over the last few years, but in the buzz I had going on, I was thinking, yeah, I'd like to see Mac's hardon. That realization made me blush I did my best to look away without seeming like I was getting caught red handed.

Tate was already firing up the hot tub, testing the temperature, since it was already a warm summer evening out and we didn't need the water too hot. The hot tub itself was pretty nice, almost a mini pool that could hold 6 easily. We'd used it a couple of times before, it was kind of nice after a game or a hard workout actually. TJ popped open another hard seltzer can and asked if I wanted one. I held off, wanting to pace myself, but Mac readily agreed. I saw his dick had gone down as he stepped into the water. He was looking extra beefy, and Tate would rib him about getting his freshman 15 a year early. I dunno, that bulk kind of looked good on him.

We talked about our college plans. I mean, we knew each other's college plans, but there was all that boring shit... orientation, move date, dorm and roommate plans. Mac and Tate were D1 scholarship players, whereas TJ planned to play on a lacrosse club in his college. I looked forward to taking a break from trying to fit in with the jocks. From being the odd man out. I had no idea what my true scene was, but I was eager to find it.

We were all relaxed sitting in that hot tub, just talking about some dumb shit, I can't even remember what. Then, Mrs. Walsh came out.

"Is it OK if I join you gentlemen?" she asked, a half-filled plastic wine glass in hand. Her tone was kind of flirty but almost in the way that a hot chick talks to all guys. It's just her normal.

That bikini wasn't normal, though. It was like sorority-slut Spring Break skimpy. Those tits made it even more obscene, as two triangular patches of fabric barely covered half of those boobs. As a gay dude, I wasn't a connoisseur of tits, but I suspected Mrs. Walsh had some augmentation done at some point. They were not only big but firm.

The guys muttered their OK in stumbling words, but already Tate's mom was stepping into the tub. She turned to Tate. "You don't mind me joining, do you, honey? Your momma's had a long day."

Tate had a shit-eating smirk on his face. For all of his mother-fucking talk, part of me didn't believe it. I believed it now. My teammate had the look of a man very much sexually obsessed with his mom and very open about that obsession. "Of course not, Mom." He scooted to the side to let his mother take the seat in the water next to him.

I could hear Evanchick gulp in horniness beside me. And from the ashen look on Mac's face, he was having a hard time figuring out how to react.

It was weird as fuck to me, but I was feeling more detached and amused. Not my circus.

"Hmmm, that water feels nice," Mrs. Walsh said, relaxing her neck back and rolling her head around a little as if to relieve the stress. The action just made her boobs jut out more.

"Tough day, Mom?" Tate asked.

"Fraid so, hon...." Mrs. Walsh said as he turned her head back to look at him and at all of us. She had a dreamy look on her face. "But don't let me stop the party."

"Thanks for letting us come over, Mrs. Walsh," Mac piped in. It was so wild to me the way a confident jock could all of a sudden act like a doofus around a hot woman.

"Anytime," she said. "As long as you boys behave."

Oh fuck, she was flirting. And I could see the smirk on Tate's phase. He knew what his mom was doing and seemed to approve.

Leave it to Evanchick to have more game than Baroni. "I don't always behave, Mrs. Walsh. But I know how to respect my elders."

Mrs. Walsh giggled. She was enjoying this. Like a hunter lioness circling her prey before pouncing. "Oh TJ, you make me sound so OLD!" she teased.

"It's not that, Mrs. Walsh," TJ stammered, trying to keep his game face on. "It's just.."

She smiled. "Oh I'm just teasing. But there's something about seeing you boys go off to college that isn't make feel any younger."

Tate put his arm around his mother's shoulder. "You know I'm going to be back to visit a lot, Mom, right?"

"You better, Tate," she mock-chided.

I gulped. It was uncomfortable, like us guys were watching something private between Tate and his mom. But I also knew that TJ and Mac were getting horned up by it, too. In my own way, I was as well.

Especially as Tate got a certain goofy grin on his face. I couldn't tell exactly where Mrs. Walsh's hand was but I had the feeling she was feeling him beneath the bubbling water.

My teammate turned to us. "Mom's a little upset I showed you those pics," he stated flatly.

Mac started to stammer an apology. Evanchick just grinned.

Mrs. Walsh let out a little giggle. "Tate's too old to ground, but I gave him a lecture about keeping secrets." She turned from a loving glance at Tate to look at us as well. "But I'm flattered you liked the photos."

Jesus.

Mac was blushing red. TJ was gonna shoot his shot. "No disrespect, Mrs. Walsh, but you're a very attractive woman. Any guy would be crazy not to notice."

Tate let out a little laugh.

Mrs. Walsh played along. "That's very sweet TJ." The surreal thing was she just seemed to be in her normal ex-sorority "nice" mode. Even as she got that relaxed look on her face and casually took off her bikini top.

I thought that swimsuit was pretty obscene and barely hid anything, but as those tits popped out, the temperature was definitely being turned up. I now knew that she and Tate had planned this.

Mrs. Walsh gently tossed the bikini top aside and leaned back, letting those big jugs stick out just an inch above the water. Definitely fake. Not that any of the guys cared.

"How does the real thing compare, gentleman?" she asked.

Baroni finally got past his shyness. "They're incredible, Mrs. Walsh. I'm gonna dream about them, actually."

Mrs. Walsh smiled. She seemed to love the attention. I was watching Tate, who was watching his mother. He was enjoying this, maybe enjoying showing off his hot mom.

But Mrs. Walsh's gaze was now directed across the hot tub. "Want to feel them, Mac?" she asked. A little more sultry but somehow Mrs. Walsh didn't make it sound slutty. Or it was slutty in a mom-next-door way. Totally fucked up.

Mac was already moving across the water. All eyes were on Mrs. Walsh's boobs, except mine. I was eyeing up Mac Baroni's football-like beef and trying to see if I could make out his hardon in the wet board shorts.

"Fuck," he hissed once his big paws cupped those hooters. Mac half massaged the fleshy globes, half just held onto them. "You're a lucky dog, Tate," he growled, then stopped himself. "Sorry..." he apologized. "I'm an idiot." I could see in Mac's face a real worry he'd fucked this up by bringing up the incest so explicitly.

Mrs. Walsh put him at ease. "Tate's very familiar with my breasts... aren't you honey?"

"Yes, Momma," he said. It was so wild to see my jock buddy use that term with his mother. Already his hand was easing over to one of his mom's breasts, nudging Mac's out of the way.

Mrs. Walsh let the guys feel her up for a minute then said softly. "Don't you boys know how to share?" she asked. "Maybe Luke and TJ want a turn."

"Luke's gay, Mrs. Walsh," Mac asserted.

"I'm sure as hell not," Evanchick kind of boasted as he stood up in the hot tub. Not just scooting over like Mac did, I realized he wanted Tate's mom to see his endowment. Indeed, that massive cock rode up high and hard in his swim trunks.

"Why don't you sit up on the edge, Mom?" Tate asked.

Those tits bounced, but barely, as she did just that. Mac was following to take one side while TJ took the other side.

I was feeling odd man out now, and I pushed myself out of the tub.

"Not gonna stay for the show, Mullins?" Tate teased. Already he was sitting in the tub and between his mom's legs, pulling the swimsuit bottom down.

"Pussy weirds him out, bro," Mac chimed in, referring to a statement I'd made while drunk one night about being turned off by straight porn.

All right, these guys were in obnoxious jock mode. I did my best to ignore them as I dried off and found my flip flops.

The air conditioning inside was cool, cold even. I wished I'd put on my T-shirt, but I didn't want to go back out there. These guys were having their dream sex fantasy handed to them on a silver platter, and part of me respected that. I wasn't gonna spoil it for them. But I just wished they didn't have to be dicks, and I wished I could stick up for myself more.

I opened the fridge and found one of the craft beers that probably was Mr. Walsh's. Tate and the guys were into hard seltzer or tasteless beer. I laughed to think they gave me shit for being into fruity mixed drinks when we first started partying. I stopped drinking those now.

I popped open the can and took a sip. The kitchen window had a pretty good view on the hot tub area. I wasn't gonna watch but figured what the hell. The guys wouldn't notice but even if they did, fuck 'em.

Tate had his face buried between his mother's thighs and was really going to town. Apparently my teammate was really into eating pussy. Mrs. Walsh was kind of going wild, kissing Mac then TJ, back and forth, while both of them mauled her tits like it was the first rack they'd ever felt up.

As fevered as those guys were in the group scene, they weren't rushing things, not pushing to the next step quickly. But eventually, TJ pulled back from his kiss and reached down to push down his trunks. Up popped that huge dong, long and fat and hard. Evanchick was hung as much as his reputation and on his compact frame it looked even more massive.

I'd been so engrossed in the show that I didn't hear the sound of someone coming into the house.

"Hey Luke... the guys out back?"

I turned back, like a kid caught with the hand in the cookie jar. There was Mr. Walsh standing in his golf attire, the dry-knit polo clinging to his meaty pecs and draping more loosely over the dad bod midsection. He had a reddish hue and tan line from his day on the links and he had that nineteenth hole buzz vibe to his expression. I always thought the man was handsome, kind of a classic "dad" masculinity to him.

But now the nervousness kicked in.

"Hey Mr. Walsh," I said, blood draining from my face. "Um, you might not want to look out back, sir."

The man stopped, and it took him just a second to figure out what I was talking about and for that affable smile to leave his face. "Oh," he said. I think he was more worried that I knew than anything, and I felt bad for the man. He let out a loud sigh. "I've probably seen worse," he said. Then nodding down at at my beer, he asked, "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure," I said. It was fucked up. Here was my buddy's dad, basically cucked by his own son, and I felt it was my job to be the guy's friend. "I think I raided your beers, sir. Sorry."

The man walked over to the fridge and got himself a cold can. "Glad you did," he said. "Make yourself at home, Luke." Mr. Walsh was very laid back about us drinking, the opposite of Evanchick's or Baroni's folks.

He popped the can open and took a long sip. Maybe it was all the sexual activity earlier, but I was definitely grooving on Mr. Walsh's thick bod. Total hot daddy, but in a real way, not in an Instagram DILF kind of way. Still, I tried not to seem weird around him.

The man took a look out the window finally. He didn't seem too bothered, but he turned to me. "Yep. That's pretty messed up," he said.

I laughed, and I hoped Mr. Walsh didn't think I was laughing at him. It was just how he acknowledged the absurdity of Tate and my teammates all doing Mrs. Walsh.

He turned to me. "I'm surprised you're not joining them Luke. You have a girlfriend?"

I shook my head. "Nah, Mr. Walsh... it's not my thing."

He misread what I was saying. "You're not going to get them in trouble are you?" he asked. For as cucked he was, it was clear that his wife and his son had his blessing.

"I mean, I'm gay, sir," I said. A year ago I would have hid this, but something about the situation and the fact I was going off to college soon had me more blunt.

Mr. Walsh nodded. "Wouldn't have guessed, buddy," he said. He took another look out the window. Then with a grin he added, "You check out your buddies' cocks?"

Fuck. Maybe Tate's dad was just messing with me, or just trying to show he was cool with the gay thing. But I was getting the vibe it was something more.

I felt my face grow hot now. "That goes against the bro code," I replied.

Mr. Walsh looked back at me with a smile. "Hell, they're not my bros," he said and turned to look back out.

OK, Tate's dad had at least a big homo streak. I laughed and walked over to stand beside him at the window. As wild as the scene was earlier, this was incredible in its own way. Standing beside Mr. Walsh's warm body, both of us playing voyeur, watching his own son and my teammates have a four-gy with his wife.

"TJ is hung like a fucking mule," the man said, taking a sip of beer. I decided I liked Mr. Walsh, a lot. "Look at that huge dick."

I did. Mrs. Walsh was doing her best to suck it, while Mac jerked his dick and waited for his turn. Tate was still munching his mom's snatch.

"I prefer Mac's," I said. Blushing as I admitted it, but it felt good to let it out.

Mr. Walsh turned to me. "Yeah, bud?" he said. I could read so much understanding in his face. He knew what it was like. "You don't have to worry about the bro code around me," he added.

"Thanks, Mr. Walsh."

"Tom," he said. I knew his first name but never used it.

"Thanks, Tom," I said. I turned my attention out back again. Tate was now bare ass naked and thrusting between his mom's legs.

I could tell Mr. Walsh was horny watching. I couldn't begin to guess the situation here. But he watched intently and asked. "What do you think of my son?" he asked, a horny edge to his voice.

Talk about fucked up. But Tom didn't judge me, and I wasn't gonna judge him. "Tate's kind of a dick, but he's hot," I admitted. Something about the situation made me feel freer to speak the truth.

Mr. Walsh chuckled. "You don't go for the cocky ones do ya, Luke?"

"No sir," I said. "Not normally my thing."

He nodded, still watching the sex scene out book. "Good for you."

We watched a little while longer and sipped our beer. It was hot but was also a strange bonding experience. Both of us odd man out.

Finally, Tom spoke again. "Sorry you're not having your fun tonight, Luke."

I was feeling buzzed now, and anyway I figured I'd channel Evanchick some. Shoot my shot. "If you gave me a chance, Tom..." I said. Throwing it out there.

I could tell Mr. Walsh was surprised. And also into the idea. He turned to me with a twinkle in his eye. "I'm afraid I've gone to seed," he said.

I stood my ground. Posture erect, my dick firming up. "You're totally hot, Tom. I'm not just saying that."

He still seemed cautious. "You, um... you know, you ever done anything?"

I wanted to make stuff up but I told him the truth. "I've gotten a couple of blowjobs. Older guys, too. It's always hot."

Tom smiled. Maybe teasing me as he replied. "So YOU like the be the cocky one?"

I chuckled, out of nervousness and horniness alike. "I don't fucking know, Tom," I complained. "I just love men, you know?" I put the emphasis on men because, the Mac Baronis of the world excepted, I knew I'd prefer someone older than me.

"I wish I'd realized earlier," he said and I felt him put his arms on my waist. I was shirtless and the contact of his warm hands felt amazing.

We kissed. For all the no-strings sex I'd had, I now realized this was missing. It didn't have to be romantic, though ultimately I'd want that too. But feeling Tom Walsh's lips against mine, our tongues slipping together, me trying to follow his lead and anticipate it, the warmth and scent and breath from a MAN pulling close to me. I fricking loved it.

His hands were now feeling me up, running up and down my bare back. I didn't have Mac's beef or even Tate or TJ's muscle but I was a fit athlete. Mr. Walsh seemed to appreciate what I had going on.

For my part I was pawing at every bit of Tom's dad bod, feeling the hard back muscle and the softer love handles and enjoying it all. I was realizing that my preferred body type really was a man with some meat on his bones. I knew it was visually, but in person too it drove me wild to feel that hard-softness of a bigger man. Greedily, my fingers were now running underneath Tom's golf shirt to make skin contact.

Mr. Walsh moaned into my mouth. We were clinging to each other like horny teenagers. Well, I was the horny teenager, Mr. Walsh was just plain horny.

We finally broke the kiss, smiles on our faces. "You are quite an attractive young man, Luke," Tom said.

"This is SO against the bro code," I joked. "My buddy's dad."

Mr. Walsh laughed. "I'm sure," he said. "But Tate's having his fun. It's my turn now." He gave me a quick peck again. "Take this to the guest room?"

We were already down the hall before I realized I'd forgotten about the hot tub orgy going on. Mr. Walsh led me into the guest room, and I felt bad as I realized this is where he slept now. But he pulled down the covers and peeled off his shirt. God, that meaty bod was incredible. He wasn't overweight, really, and the top of his torso was all firm round pecs and broad build shoulders and arms. His middle had a little beer belly. Not quite round, not quite a spare tire, but something in between. His chest hair wasn't heavy but it looked fitting for his age, sprinkled with some gray flecks.

"You don't have to be shy, Luke," he said.

I realized then I was hesitating to take off my trunks. But I did now. This felt naughtier than getting my dick sucked by some random dude. This was my friend's dad, and I was now showing off my boner to him and stripping down naked.

"Very nice," Tom smiled, now undoing his own golf shorts.

I realized I hadn't seen Tate's cock just now, so I don't know how his dad's compared. But it was a perfect dick. Average in length and fatter in girth. Whereas mine had an inch on him but was more normal in width. We stepped toward one another and embraced again. Our cocks touching and battling a little.

We didn't kiss right away but enjoyed the playful intimacy.

"I gotta warn you, Tom," I admitted. "I don't really know what I'm doing. I mean... I've watched a lot of porn, but for the real thing..."

He nodded. "You up for sucking me some?" he asked. Tone respectful but horny.

I nodded. "Um, yeah... fuck."

"Sit down on the bed," he urged.

I did. From that vantage, Tom Walsh's body seemed girthier and more muscular too. I wondered if this is what Mac would look like when he got older. It was a thrill of a thought. I leaned forward and started licking Mr. Walsh's perfect dick, which twitched against my tongue.

"Nice, buddy... feel free to explore it."

I did. Working up from his balls to his dripping cock slit and back down. It was incredible to have another man's genitals pressed against my face. Finally, I got up to the top again and opened up. My first dick to suck and I was going for it.

"God, yeah, man... easy buddy.... that's it, nice and slow... get used to me."

Walsh wasn't overly hung but for my first dick the size seemed pretty big. But I relaxed and focused on sucking in addition to bobbing. Once I got the groove, I heard grunts of approval from Mr. Walsh. Then his hands on my head, gently pulling me into his crotch with a steady pace matched to my sucking.

"Your first cock, buddy?" he hissed. "You're doing amazing."

I was glad of that, but my jaw and throat were tiring, mostly from the newness of the sensation. Thankfully, Tom pulled out, his prick looking bigger and fuller and definitely wetter with my thick spit.

The man had a big smile on his face as he leaned down and met me for a tongue heavy kiss. Already this was beating the quick BJs I'd gotten before. The man patted my shoulder as he relinquished our lip lock. "Lie back, stud," he urged.

As I did I felt Tom's lips kiss along my abs and then further down.

"Oh yeah!" I hissed once he started taking me into his mouth.

This wasn't Mr. Walsh's first dick. He swallowed about four inches of me and worked me before he began deep throating. His pace was slow, almost gentle, but his nose mashed against my pubes with each go. Felt his throat gently milk my boner and saw the way his sun-lightened brown hair was thinner on top and had some gray flecks on the side. I wondered if he wanted to suck Tate like this.

I was starting to cum. Only Tom pulled off right before I did. His hand on my spit wet cock felt great but it was going to keep me on the boil, not push me to completion.

"I take it you're not up for getting fucked," he said. More a statement in tone, but I knew he was throwing the idea out there.

My body shook in nervous energy. "I don't think I'm ready, Mr. Walsh.... sorry, sir."

He grinned. Mayne being called Mr. Walsh made him feel like a dirty old man. Maybe he liked that. He leaned in and gave my balls a quick swipe of his tongue. "If you ever change your mind, Luke, I'd love to take your cherry."

The words were horny and lewd and the intensity of his proposal turned me on. "I'd love to lose it to you, sir," I replied. "Maybe another time. OK?"

He seemed pleased with that response as he pulled back and reached over to the nightstand. I saw the lube come out. For a second I got mad, like he was still going to pressure me to do this. But then he slicked up my hardon with his lubed hand and quickly did the same with his own.

I grinned. We were gonna jack off together. The idea seemed appealing. That way Tom and I could cum at the same time, maybe even while we were kissing. I took my dick in my hand and started the familiar motion up and down.

But as the married man scooted up in bed, he knocked my hand away, off my dick. My heart pounded as I saw his dad bod position himself over my midsection, straddling me.

"Man, we gonna...?" I asked, unable to believe it.

Tom got a big grin on his suntanned face. He nodded and reached over to pump out more lube into his palm, before reaching back between his legs to slick his ass up.

"You done this Mr. Walsh?" I asked. I needed to know. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing, other than imitating porn, and I worried a real ass would take more effort to fuck.

"I got a golf buddy," he said with an impish grin. "We help each other out."

"Hot," I said. "You gonna help me out?" I teased.

Tom responded to my playful tone. "Well, your buddies left you high and dry, it's the least I can do."

The middle aged dad nestled his slick crack on my boner and let it nudge against his pucker for a second. "You OK going bare?" he asked, his blue eyes now meeting mine in a horny, almost dreamy expression.

"Fuck yeah," I hissed.

Then I felt the most amazing sensation of penetration. My first ass. My first dad hole. My buddy's father. Mr. Walsh.

"God..." I hissed.

The man was letting out some air, relaxing his body. But he was taking my dick pretty well, sinking down it. "You're a big boy, Luke," he said in his naughty bedroom voice.

"Bigger than your golf buddy?" I had to ask.

"Bigger than my golf buddy."

I almost made a crack about being bigger than his son, but held off. Tom paused at the bottom, having taken me all the way inside. His guts felt tight and hot and alive. I loved this. I'd want a LOT more fucking from here on out.

I was patient and in any case took the chance to run my hands along his body, along thos thick thighs and up over his dad bod stomach.

The man chuckled at my clear admiration. "You really like my body don't ya, Luke."

I looked up at him. At his handsome face and his raccoon eyes from the day of golf. I wanted to fuck him so bad. "Yes, sir. Fuck, is that weird?"

"Not at all, stud," he answered. "I'm glad."

He let me run my hands over his body some more then rose up. About four inches, then settled back down. And again. Mr. Walsh was fucking himself on me. I loved this, but my teen horniness kicked in. I held onto the man and started thrusting up into me.

"Yes!" he hissed. "You're hitting my fucking spot, Luke... right there, buddy!"

Indeed as I fucked into his meaty body, his cock jerked in a regular rhythm. It made me want to fuck faster. So I did.

"Yes, yes," the man urged. The fact Mr. Walsh liked this made me feel like a fucking king.

I knew I was going to have trouble holding off but the second he reached down to touch his own dick, his insides just did a crazy clench and unclench wave on my thrusting prick.

"Oh SHIT!" I gasped. Already orgasming. My hips a frantic blur, my whole lacrosse jock body tensing as I gave it up.

Maybe I was hitting Tom's spot just right. Or maybe he liked the idea I was breeding him. Because I wasn't finished with my release when I felt his hot sperm land on me in heavy blotches.

"FUCK!" he grunted, his body flush and his dick jerking as he milked out the last seed. He regained awareness and our eyes met. We laughed.

"Your first fuck?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied.

"And...?" he prodded. I loved Tom's playful side.

"You've totally spoiled me, Mr. Walsh."

He leaned back, feeling my cock buried inside. "You're still hard as a rock," he laughed.

"Fraid so," I said.

"I need a break, OK?"

I nodded and he eased off. Our bodies were hot and sweaty as we connected for a kiss. We made out for a while, our hearts still racing. My dick wasn't going down but I was just enjoying this intimate connection.

Tom finally patted my chest. "I was not expecting THAT, Luke Mullins," he said.

"Expecting what?" I chuckled.

He shrugged. "You to be into men. You being able to fuck like THAT. First time out, too."

I smirked. "Yes, sir," I said. Now proud of my sexual performance. I didn't realize I'd done anything special. It felt like it was all Mr. Walsh.

He seemed to get a concerned look finally and he nodded his head back in the direction of the backyard. "You sticking around for the rest of the show out back?" he asked.

"Think they're done?" I asked. I was now nervous about the guys knowing about me and Tom. I didn't care for myself but I didn't want to get Tate's dad in trouble.

"Knowing Tate, probably not," the man said. Not jaded or bitter, almost impressed.

"I'm not gonna ask, Mr. Walsh," I said. "But I have SO many questions."

Thankfully the man had a sense of humor. "I bet. Maybe later, OK?" He leaned up and looked over at the clock.

"Did you drive here?" he asked.

"Nah, TJ picked me up."

"I can take you home if you like. Unless you want to crash here."

I didn't know if he meant in his room or with the guys. Either way, it seemed awkward now. "No, I'll head home, Mr. Walsh. Thanks." I sat up, feeling my energy surprisingly drained. I was going to sleep very well after that fuck. My dick had calmed down and softened and I enjoyed seeing Tom's eyes follow it as I got out of bed and slipped back into my swim trunks. "I gotta get my clothes out back."

Tom laughed. "All right. Meet you out front?"

When I got out back, the guys were out of the pool. Mrs. Walsh was on a lounger while Mac's powerhouse body fucked her. Tate was doing laps in the pool, while Evanchick sat in a chair, his huge dick hard but otherwise he was clearly resting between rounds.

He looked up as I walked over to get my shirt and flip flops nearby.

"Hey," he said. "Sorry we forgot about you Mullens," he said, leaning back in his chair. He wasn't self conscious about his nakedness around me, and I realized TJ liked showing off his big dong, even to me. "But you know..." he looked over at Mac going wild on Mrs. Walsh. "...fuck."

I looked over too. I wanted to memorize the vision of Baroni, naked and having sex. I turned back to Evanchick. "It's OK... I had my fun this evening."

TJ laughed and held up his fist in a mock jerkoff motion. But I shook my head no.

The guy's not as dumb as Mac, and he picked on what was going. "For real?" he asked. Looking back to see if Mr. Walsh was in sight.

"Yeah, for real," I boasted. I hated being an asshat, bragging about Mr. Walsh like that, but I was sick of being the odd man out. "Don't tell Tate, OK?"

TJ did a cross-his-heart gesture. I took one more look at Mac's magnificent backside and ass and then gave TJ a buddy pat on the shoulder. "See ya later, bro."

Mr. Walsh drove me home and was the total gentleman. He asked me if I was interested in a date, maybe golf on Sunday. He pulled up to my house and we exchanged phone numbers. And Tom kissed me before I got out of the car.

"Everything OK?" my mom asked when she saw me home early. She'd given me some ground rules for the summer but they were pretty lax. 11PM curfew unless I was staying at a friend's house chaperoned. She wasn't used to seeing me before 9 these days.

"Yeah, Mom," I said. "Just tired from my workout today. Mr. Walsh drove me home," I added.

I made some small talk and went to grab some water to rehydrate. Then I made my way up to my bedroom. There was a text from Mr. Walsh.

"I had a great time, young man," it read.

I smiled and typed. "Me too, Tom. Amazing." I was nervous texting a man much older than me like this, afraid I'd get him in trouble. But with all that was going on in the Walsh household maybe that was the least of anyone's worries.

"They're still going at it, by the way," Tom wrote.

"I wish I'd stayed for round two," I wrote. The man could tell me if I had to be more discreet.

"Ha, I bet. I don't think I could have handled a second round. Sorry, Luke."

"Nothing to be sorry about sir. I'm still on cloud nine."

We sent each other some more texts, but soon called it a night.

***

Tate found out the following week. He gave me the silent treatment and it was the end of our little posse. Or at least my participation in it. I hung out some with Mac still, but mostly the guys spent their summer together, without me. I was a little bummed, but it was inevitable. I was moving away in a couple of months anyway.

And, yeah, I did lose my cherry to Mr. Walsh. We didn't become boyfriends or anything. But we had a hell of a lot of fun that summer. Including a few time with his golf buddy joining.

It was an auspicious start to my college years, but that's another story.

[percevalec]

THIS WONT STAY IN VEGAS {part 3}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: You went clubbing with your friend, celebrating her moving to Vegas. You got drunk and don't remember anything. The next morning you find yourself in bed with a stranger and a ring around your finger

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, smut, not proof read.

18+, please don’t read in you’re underage

do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

You stand there by the sink, left puzzled by Arthur’s cryptic words. You try to remember who Alexandra is, but nothing comes to mind. The name doesn’t ring a bell.

----------

As you're walking back to Charles' room your mind suddenly reminded you that you do know her, well not personally. You remember reading something about her being his ex girlfriend during that google search you did on your way to the airport. 

As you enter the room, you see Charles laying on the bed, his phone in his hand. “Hey” you say as you walk over and lay next to him. By this point none of you found it weird or uncomfortable to spend time together, it was like second nature to always be close to each other. Mostly because you had to keep the act up in front of Pascal. Also you simply enjoyed each other's company, but you'd never admit that to yourself. 

Charles looks up from his phone as you enter the room, a soft smile forming on his lips. "Hey" he replies, setting his phone aside. He watches as you plop down on the bed, his eyes following your movements. “Guess what” you say, lifting your head to look over at him. Charles rolls onto his side to face you, his interest piqued by your tone. "What?" he asks, his gaze fixed on your face. “Arthur knows” you say in a surprisingly casual tone. Charles' eyes widened in surprise at your words. He wasn't expecting that. "Wait, what?! How does he know?" he asks, extremely confused as to why you’re so calm. “He overheard our conversation from three days ago, but he said he didn’t really care and he promised he wouldn’t tell anyone”. Charles takes a moment to absorb the information, relief washing over him at the fact that Arthur had promised to keep the secret. "Well that's good at least" he sighs. "The last thing we need is the media or my mom finding out." 

You respond with a slight guilt in your voice “Yeah, I think your mom likes me which makes this whole thing even more complicated than it already is” Charles nods in agreement, sadness in his expression. "She does, she loves every little thing about you." He reaches out and takes your hand in his, his fingers tracing your ring. "It's hard because she would be upset with both of us if she knew the truth." You sigh at his words, know "Right," he says quietly, disappointment in his voice. He had forgotten that he wasn't supposed to touch you like that, not when it was all pretend.  “Oh, i almost forgot, remember the party your mom is hosting next sunday” Charles furrows his eyebrows at the sudden change of conversation "Yeah, why?"  he says, his mind already drifting to the thought of the event. “Arthur told me to let you know that alexandra is coming, who is she?”. You still ask despite knowing the answer. You were curious to know what he would say.

Charles's eyes widened at the mention of the name "Alexandra." He hadn't expected you to ever say her name, he was left momentarily speechless. Groaning before answering. "She's an ex-girlfriend" he says, his tone guarded. “...Can I ask what happened?” you ask as you look down at the bed, avoiding his gaze. Charles lets out another deep sigh. "It's a bit of an old story," he says, his voice becoming quieter. "We dated for a few years, and then we just grew apart and eventually, it ended”. You nod your head as you listen to his story unsure on what to say. You look up at him and decide on “I'm sorry”. "It's fine," he replies, offering a small smile, though you can tell there's still a hint of sadness in his eyes. "It was a long time ago." He pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath. “So why is your mom inviting her? especially now that we’re “married”. Charles sighs “She's the daughter of one of my moms friends, so she's always been around, even before we were dating. I'm surprised she even agreed to coming, we’ve been avoiding each other for a while”. 

You could tell this wasn't a simple story of a failed relationship. Maybe she meant more to Charles than you thought. “Maybe it's because she’s seen the articles about our perfect love story” you say laughing. Charles chuckles dryly, "Oh, I'm sure that's why," he says, rolling his eyes. "And she likely can't wait to make some snarky comment about it". “We can just avoid her, either way we have to be extremely convincing about our relationship during the party” Charles nods, taking your words to heart. "Yeah, well we can try to avoid her as much as possible, but she will probably want to talk to us." He sighs, contemplating the situation. "And you're right, we definitely have to sell this whole “perfect love” act even more at the party."

“Do you think it will be hard?” you ask.

Charles leans back against the headboard of the bed, mulling over your question. "Honestly?" he says, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I don't know. Pretending to be in love with you in front of our families has been... easier than I thought. But with Alexandra there, it could get complicated. She has a way of getting under my skin."

You’re not sure why his words made your stomach turn, but they did. So you ask the question you really don't want to know the answer to. “Do you still love her?” 

Charles is caught off guard by your direct question, his initial instinct was to deflect. But looking at your face, he knew he couldn't lie. "I don't know," he admits quietly, shaking his head. "There are still... feelings. But it's complicated ." He looks back at you, searching your eyes for any hint of jealousy or annoyance. “Well maybe she can be the reason for our divorce” you suggest, trying to make a positive out of a negative. You needed an excuse for the divorce either way, You had originally thought about a big public fight but this made things easier, Charles leaving you to be with his true love. It would be the first thing both of you didn't lie about.  

“You’ll realize you love her more than you loved me, that’s something the media will buy”. Charles hears the tinge of sadness in your voice and looks at you, his face softening. "You think so?" he asks, his tone laced with a hint of guilt for answering your question about Alexandra in the first place. "You'd be okay with the world thinking I fell for my ex girlfriend while being married to you?". Not truly wanting to answer his question, you reply “it doesn’t matter what i think, it's just an excuse to get out of this” Charles let out a deep sigh, the thought of having to explain to the world that he fell for someone else while being married to you didn't sit well with him, but he had no choice. "Yeah, I guess that's the best way" he finally says, reluctantly agreeing with your plan. “I’m sorry I'm in the way of you and her” you say in a low voice, almost whispering. Charles shakes his head, reaching over to take your hand in his. "You're not in the way," he says firmly, looking into your eyes. "This whole situation is just... complicated. And it's not your fault. It's not like you wanted to be fake married to me." You nod your head forcing a smile “yeah, of course”. 

Charles's heart twists at the sight of your forced smile. He wishes he could do more to ease your pain, but he knows that the situation is out of his control. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle. “You love doing that don’t you” you ask chuckling, referring to him putting your hair behind your ear. A small smile tugs at the corner of Charles's lips as he realizes he's been caught. "Yeah, I guess I do," he admits sheepishly. "It just... feels natural, I guess." He lets his hand linger against your cheek for a moment, his touch tender. "Sometimes I wonder," you say, your voice soft and full of unsaid feelings. "What if we had met in a different way?” A soft sigh escaped your lips as you continued "I wonder where we’d be now". Charles lets out a wistful sigh as he contemplates your question, his mind wandering to the what if's. "Me too," he says quietly, his gaze fixed on your face. "If we had met under different circumstances... I wonder what could've been." 

 Neither of you say anything. You just stare into each other's eyes. 

"You're staring" he finally says, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re staring back” you reply, laughing at his words 

Charles lets out a low chuckle, his smirk widening. "Fair enough," he concedes, his eyes never leaving yours. “I'm getting sleepy, it's been a long day. Goodnight Charlie” you say before kissing his cheek and turning over. Charles’s heart skips a beat at the feel of your lips on his cheek, a small shiver running down his spine. He looks at your turned back, his gaze lingering on your form. “Goodnight,” he says quietly, the hint of a smile on his lips.

WEEK 2 DAY 3 

You and Charles wake up around the same time as always. You both get ready and head downstairs to the kitchen. That’s when you both realize that you're the only one home. "Looks like we've got the place to ourselves today," he says with a hint of surprise in his voice. “What should we do?” you ask as you walk closer to him.

Charles and you have now spent 14 days together, counting from the day you saw each other at the club, and you’re becoming inseparable. Despite not letting yourself, you still feel attracted to Charles and everyday it gets harder to suppress your feelings. Even after he confessed he still feels something for Alex. What you don't know is that he only started thinking about her again to not think about you. He started this ever since you turned him down the other day. He remembers your words perfectly “this could never work”.

Charles thinks about your question for a moment, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "Well, we've got the whole house to ourselves," he says, a hint of excitement in his tone. "Why don't we make the most of it?". 

You walk closer. “Yeah? And how would we do that?. Charles grins as you walk closer to him, his eyes sparkling with a hint of playfulness. "Well, let's see," he says, pretending to think. "We could watch a movie, bake something, or..." He steps closer to you, his voice dropping to a low, seductive tone. “Or….?” you whisper. Charles closes the remaining distance between you, his body just inches away from yours. He looks down at you, his gaze intense. "Or we could do something... more fun," he says, his voice a sultry whisper. “Actually, I think I'm craving Italian, take me to dinner” you say laughing as you step back. Charles feigns disappointment for a moment before chuckling softly. "Fine, Italian it is," he says, playfully rolling his eyes. "But only if I get to pick where we're going”. “You know this place better than I do anyways” Charles grins, happy to be the one who gets to choose. "Exactly," he says, a hint of smugness in his voice. "I know all the best spots in this city." He held out his hand "Ready to go?". 

------------------------

On your way to the restaurant you surprisingly only get stopped 3 times for pictures. Charles seems completely unfazed, smiling and waving graciously each time. As you finally arrive at the restaurant, he leads you inside, a hand placed on your lower back.

Charles and you are led to a secluded table in a quiet corner of the restaurant. He pulls out a chair for you before taking his own seat. "I've been here many times," he says, looking around the elegant space. "It's one of my favorite Italian spots in the city." You look around taking in the beauty “You know, i'll definitely miss Monaco when this is over”. "Yeah," he says quietly, his gaze drifting to the window outside. "But you'll come back to visit, right?" His ask, eyes flicking back to you. “Only if you bring me back here” you joke. A small smile tugs at the corner of Charles's lips. "Of course," he says, playing along. "This is definitely the best Italian food you'll ever have. You'll be craving it for months after you're gone." 

You order your meals and continue talking as you eat, the conversation flowing effortlessly between you. 

Charles leans back in his chair, a hint of a smile on his lips. "You know," he says suddenly, his eyes fixed on yours. "You're not bad to be married to. We make a pretty convincing couple." You laugh at his comment “Shut up” you say smiling. Charles mock-gasps in exaggerated surprise, placing a hand against his chest. "Hey, it's not my fault we're so good at pretending!" he protests, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

Everything continues going fine when suddenly your heart drops as you hear a voice calling your name. No one knew you here except Charles and his family. So it could only be one person, Leonardo.   

“Y/N Y/L/N … or i guess it’s Y/N Leclerc now” he says chuckling “Never thought i would see you here again, especially married” Charles head snaps up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, his muscles tensing almost instantly. He looks at you and sees the color drain from your face. “Leo, i never thought i would see you again either” you say giving Charles an apologetic look. This is the one thing you should have told him. The real reason you came to Monaco the first time. 

A few years back you were madly in love with Leonardo. You both met in New York, his mom used to Co-own the magazine company with your mother. Everything was perfect, whenever you thought about getting married you always pictured him waiting at the altar. So you agreed to move back home with him in Monaco, that's when your relationship started falling apart. He would come home late and blame it on the crazy traffic “so many tourists” he would say, trying to use it as an excuse. You believed him. Until one day you walked in the house and found him fucking some random girl. Your world came down and you swore to never return, he ruined you, you were a mess after the incident. You always turned down anything to do with Monaco in fear you would run into him in the small country. Charles dragging you here is what made you come to love Monaco, you realized the only bad thing here was Leo.

Charles looks at you, confusion and a hint of hurt crossing his face. He had no idea about your past with the man who had suddenly appeared. He remains silent, watching the interaction between you and Leo. “I couldn't believe it when I first read the articles and saw that you got married to a F1 driver,” he says, looking back and forth to you and charles. “Well unexpected things can happen” you say, giving him a fake smile. “How is she?” Leo asks Charles. “Well she's better with me than she ever was with you” Charles replied. He took a gamble with his response, he knew nothing about the man standing at your table, but by the look on your face he could tell you wanted him gone. 

“Hmm right, I'm sure she told you all about me, I just can't believe you convinced her to move back” he says laughing. “Just go leo, there's nothing we need to talk about, besides, i know you have bad luck and get stuck in traffic” you say glaring at him. “I will go, but not because you're telling me to. Tiffany is waiting in the car, you’ve met her Y/N." Leo says smiling as he nudges your shoulder and leaves. You hold in your breath as he says the last few words, assuming she's the girl you caught him with. Charles watches the exchange between you and Leo, his jaw clenching tighter with each word spoken. He can sense the tension in the air, the history that lies between you and Leo. His mind is racing with questions

Charles is left speechless as he processes what just happened. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He stares at Leo as he leaves the restaurant. Finally, he turns to you, his gaze a mix of confusion and hurt. "What the hell was that?" he snaps, his voice barely above a murmur. “Can we just go, i'll explain on the way home” You say as you stand up. Charles lets out a deep breath, his hands clenched into fists. "Yeah," he mutters, getting up from his seat. "Let's just go."

The walk home is filled with an uncomfortable silence. Charles's mind is reeling with questions, his body tense with anger. He glances over at you, his jaw set in a tight line as he listens silently to you laying out the details of your past with Leo. His eyes stay fixed on the sidewalk. When you finish speaking, the walk falls quiet again as Charles processes everything he's just heard. “I'm sorry i should have told you” you say breaking the silence. Charles sighs, his grip on his fist loosening slightly. "Yeah, you should have," he says, his voice betraying a hint of hurt. "I can't believe you kept something like that from me, especially with all the time we've spent together”. “I didn't think it would be important for you to know,” you say, slightly agitated. Charles turns to you, his eyes flashing with a hint of anger. "You didn't think it was important for me to know about your ex-boyfriend who lives in Monaco?" he says, his voice strained. "You don't think that's something I should've known about?" your eyes tear up “How was i supposed to know we would run into him” Charles glances at you, seeing the tears welling up in your eyes. He takes a deep breath, his hand twitching slightly as he fights the urge to reach out to you. "Yeah, whatever" he mutters, his tone softening a bit. "But it still would've been nice to know that I could’ve been confronted by your ex at some point".  “You don't get to be mad with me about this, you also didn't tell me about Alex, or how you still love her” 

Charles bristles at your words, his jaw clenching at the mention of Alexandra. "That's different," he snaps, his eyes flickering between you and the road. "I eventually told you where my feelings stand. You never told me anything about Leo". You hold back tears, “There was no point in telling you anyways, there's only 2 weeks left before I never have to see you again”  Charles’ heart clenches at your words, the reality of the situation washing over him yet again. He lets out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, that's right. Two more weeks of pretending until we can go back to our separate lives, right?" “Don't make me regret agreeing to this” you say as tears run down your eyes. You watch the anger and hurt falter from Charles at the sight of your tears. His heart aches at the sight of your pain, and he feels a pang of guilt for lashing out at you. He lets out a deep sigh. "I don't want you to regret anything," he mutters, his voice softer now.

The rest of the walk is silent until you reach home. 

--------------------

Charles follows you upstairs and into his bedroom. The room is quiet, the only sound coming from the soft hum of the air. He closes the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as he gazes at you. You walk over to the nightstand, taking off your earrings before glaring back at him. He watches you silently for a few moments, his eyes tracing the lines of your face. He looks conflicted, a mix of anger and longing on his expression. After a moment, he crosses the room and sits down on the edge of the bed, gesturing for you to join him. You comply and join him, letting out a sigh as you sit down next to him, the mattress sinking under your combined weight. He reaches out tentatively, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice full of remorse. "I shouldn’t have gotten angry”. You let the silence linger a bit before replying “It’s fine, I should have told you.” Charles looks down at your joined hands, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin. "Yeah, you should have," he says quietly. "But I can understand why you didn’t. It’s not exactly easy to talk about past relationships”. You dont reply and simply rest against him. He hesitates for a moment before gently wrapping an arm around you, pulling you closer, watching as you turn your head up to look at him. He looks down at you, his eyes meeting yours.

He takes in the sight of your face, so close to his own. His gaze flickers back and forth between your eyes and your lips, his heart starting to race. Charles can feel the heat radiating off your body, the sound of your breathing filling his ears. He looks down at you, his lips parting slightly as he fights the desire to close the distance between you. He clenches his jaw, his hand unconsciously tightening around your waist, his other hand on your cheek feels warm and soft. His thumb tracing small circles on your skin. He pulls your face closer, now just inches apart. He inhales deeply, the scent of your perfume filling his nostrils. 

“Charles we ca-” Charles’ hand moves from your cheek to your chin, holding it tightly. "Shut up, shut up Y/N. Stop reminding me that I can't have you". His words leave you shocked, you expected him to let go like he's done other times, but part of you is glad he didn't. “Kiss me” you whisper. Charles's heart thunders in his chest, his breaths quickening at your words. For a moment he hesitates, warring with his own feelings, but in the end, he gives in. His hand slides from your face to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he jumps at the sound of someone knocking the bedroom door. You also jump at the sudden noise ruining the moment. “We’re home” Arthur yells through the door. Charles lets out a curse word under his breath as he hears Arthur's voice from the other side of the door. He reluctantly pulls away from you, his hand sliding off your neck as he calls out, "Okay whatever”. 

You slightly move away from Charles as you laugh. He shoots you a mock-annoyed look, his lips twitching in a faint smile despite his best efforts. "Oh, you think it’s funny, huh?" he teases, crossing his arms over his chest. “We can never have a moment can we” you say smiling. Charles lets out a short laugh, his arms dropping back to his sides. "No, apparently not," he mutters, shaking his head. "Someone’s always interrupting us”. Without hesitation you bluntly speak your thoughts “i wish i could remember the night we hooked up”. Charles almost chokes on his own breath at your sudden words. His mind goes blank for a moment as he processes what you just said. Then, he laughs hoarsely. "Y/N, you can't just say things like that without warning”. “Please, I know you've also thought the same thing”. Charles is speechless for a moment, rendered speechless by your comment. He has thought it, the memory of that night a blur due to all the alcohol that was consumed. But hearing you say it out loud, without any hint of embarrassment, throws him off. He shakes his head, a mixture of amusement and desire flickering in his eyes. 

WEEK 2 DAY 7

The days pass and Sunday, the day of the party, quickly approaches. Charles' mom is in a frenzy, preparing for the event. Charles himself is nervous, the thought of seeing Alexandra again making him visibly uneasy. 

The night approaches and both you and Charles get ready in his room. Charles stands in front of the mirror in the bedroom, adjusting his tie. He glances at you, taking in your appearance. "You look good," he says quietly, a hint of a smile on his face. “Thank you” you reply while trying to cover the blush creeping in on your face. “We should probably head downstairs” you suggest as you walk towards him. Charles's eyes move over your figure. He swallows, his mind flashing back to the memories of you almost kissing him yesterday. Charles nods, tearing his gaze away from you. "Yeah, we should," he mutters. He takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the night ahead. He holds out his hand for you to take. "Ready?" You take his hand and smile as you walk towards the party. 

The Party is buzzing with chatter and laughter of guests, music playing in the background. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the sparkle of champagne. Charles tightens his grip on your hand as you walk further into the room, his eyes scanning the crowd. 

A few minutes go by and not much has happened yet. Just random guests congratulating you or boring you with small talk. While Charles is talking to one of the guests, you whisper “I'm going to go get a drink” in his ear. Charles nods, understanding your need to escape the boring talk for a moment. "Yeah, okay" He lets go of your hand reluctantly, his fingers lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. You leave and make your way to the drink station. As you’re pouring yourself a drink you think about how in a few hours this whole situation was going to end in a week. You were going to miss Charles more than you wanted to admit, your mind thought back to the conversation you had with him about how it was “never going to work” but maybe it could work. He made you happy and you needed to accept that. You need to stop pushing him away. So you decided on telling him how you felt tonight. 

But as you come back with your drink, you notice Charles engaged in conversation with Alexandra. They're standing close together, their faces mere feet apart. Charles' expression is polite and guarded, Alex's lips twisted in a smile. Fuck you thought to yourself. The stupid “plan” of letting Charles flirt with Alex to win her back had completely slipped your mind. What if maybe he did want to get the divorce?, after all there he was talking with her. 

Charles turns at the sound of your footsteps approaching, his eyes locking on yours as you come to a stop next to him. A flicker of nervousness passes over his face, replaced quickly by a neutral expression. Alexandra looks up at you, her smile faltering slightly as she takes in your presence. “Hey” you say politely greeting the woman your husband was going to eventually leave you for. "Hey," Alexandra says, her voice cool and aloof. Her gaze moves between you and Charles, a hint of contempt in her eyes. Charles stays silent, his hand unconsciously clenching at his side. “I’m Y/N” you say, extending your hand to greet her. Alexandra looks at your hand, her eyes narrowing as she takes in your gesture. After a moment, she reaches out and shakes your hand, her grip strong and deliberate. "I'm Alexandra," she says with a harsh tone “I used to date Charles”. He watches the interaction between you and Alexandra, his jaw clenching at the slight hostility coming from her. He doesn't like the way she's looking at you, the jealousy in her eyes. “I know,” You respond in a calm tone before turning to Charles “i hope i'm not interrupting anything” "No, of course not," Charles says quickly, shaking his head. He glances at Alexandra, who purses her lips and says nothing.

You softly smile “well i'm going to excuse myself, enjoy the party”. Charles reaches out and grabs your wrist, pulling you back. "Wait," he says urgently, his voice low. “What” you whisper back. He leans in close to you, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't go," he murmurs, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly. "Please." You swallow as you say words you don't mean “This is your chance to win her back Charles. It will help our little divorce story”. Charles looks torn at your words, his gaze flickering between you and Alexandra. His heart is torn between wanting to keep you with him and wanting to keep up the façade and follow through with a plan he doesn't even want part in. He's only agreeing because he thinks you’re never going to give him a chance. Not with the way you dont let him touch you or say sweet things to you, and how you always have to remind him none of this is real, and you never gave him any hope that this would  last more than 4 weeks you agreed to spend with him before going back to Vegas and finalizing the divorce.  

"I know," he mutters, his voice strained. "Just... don't go too far. Stay somewhere I can see you." You nod and make your way through the crowd of people. Charles watches you walk away, his heart heavy with mixed emotions. He turns back to Alexandra, who is watching you leave with a hint of happiness in her eyes. 

-------------

A few hours pass and Chales and Alex are still talking with each other. You can't stand the sight of him making her laugh or how her hand lingers too long on his arm. You need a distraction from this, so you make your way to the bathroom, taking a moment to compose yourself. Your heart is racing with a mix of emotions, the sight of them together stirring up feelings of jealousy and pain you never thought you would experience at the hands of a fake relationship. You make the irrational decision and decide to pull out your phone and dial Leo's number. 

“Hey leonardo, its Y/N” 

Leo picks up on the other end of the line, his voice deep and smooth. "Hey Y/N, what's up?"

“I sent you my location, can you meet me here” 

Leo's curiosity is piqued at your request. "Yeah, sure. I'll be there in a few minutes".

“Hurry” is all you say before hanging up the call. A sense of dread washing over you. 

---------------------

You check your phone and see that Leo has texted you, letting you know that he's arrived. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you're about to do. Leo walks in through the door, his eyes scanning the room as he takes in the sight of the party. He spots you immediately, his face breaking into a smile as he walks over to you. “Hi” you say in a low voice. "Hey," Leo replies, his voice just as low. He glances around, making sure no one is eavesdropping on your conversation. "What's going on? Finally realized I'm better than that F1 driver?" he says laughing. Why, just why did you have to do this.”'Let's talk somewhere more private” You say as you drag him to a vacant room. 

As Charles continues talking with Alex, his eyes instinctively drift towards you. He observes you in the distance, walking with someone to the empty room. A puzzled expression forms on his face as he wonders who you even know at the party. Minutes go by, and Charles notices that you haven’t left the room. His curiosity piqued, a sense of worry creeping in, he excuses himself from the conversation and makes his way towards the room you’re in."

You and Leo walk through the crowd, Leo following you as you lead the way to an empty room. As you enter, you shut the door behind you, the noise from the party outside quickly fading to a low murmur. “I just need to get my mind off him” You say as you walk closer to him. Leo looks at you, a hint of curiosity and confusion in his eyes as you approach. “What exactly is the reason you invited me here?" You close the distance between both of you “I don't know” you whisper. He grabs your face “Want me to kiss you?”

 Charles was simply talking to Alex, nothing more, yet here you were about to kiss your ex, all because you don't believe Charles actually likes you. 

You nod at Leo's words, but as he's about to close the distance you hear the door open. 

Charles enters the room, his footsteps halting suddenly as he takes in the sight before him. His eyes widen in shock as he sees you and Leo so close together. He stands frozen for a moment, unable to speak. His mind is racing, processing the scene before him. He looks from you to Leo, anger and hurt warring in his expression. “I- I can e- Charles it's not what you think” You say as you back away from Leo. Charles clenches his jaw, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The sight has struck him like a blow to the gut, bringing up a tidal wave of emotions. He says nothing as he grabs your wrist and drags you up the stairs to his room. 

------------------------

12:00 AM WEEK 3 DAY 1 

Charles pushes you into the room, the door slamming shut behind you with a loud thud. The room is plunged into silence for a moment as he turns to face you, his expression a storm of conflicting emotions. “Charles, I'm sorry” you say as you turn around to face him. He stares at you with dark eyes and an intense stare. "Sorry?" he repeats, his voice low and harsh. "You're sorry for what, huh? For kissing another guy?". Tears formed in your eye “I didn't kiss him. And even if i did it's not like we are actually together”. Charles lets out a strangled laugh at that, his expression hardening. "Oh, so that makes it okay then? You could just kiss whoever you want because we're not together?" Silence lingers before you speak up “I saw you talking to Alex for hours and i got jealous, i acted on impulse i fucked up i know”. Charles takes a step towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because that's what you wanted me to do, try and fall in love with her so the divorce can have a reason behind it” He yells “But did you ever think that I don't want to leave you”. His words still somehow caught you by surprise. 

“What?” you whisper. Charles lets out a sigh, his hand raking through his hair. "Jesus, do I really have to spell it out for you?" he snaps. "I don't want to leave you, I never did. I want to be with you, always. But you... you always turned me down. Did you even think about how I would feel?".

“You told me you still loved her” you reply.  Charles scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "Love her?" he says, his voice dripping with bitterness. "I said that to see if you would just finally admit your possible feelings for me. But It was all an act, a performance to please you so we could have an “excuse” for our divorce. ... You were the one I truly want”. “I'm sorry” is all you manage to say. Despite everything his eyes soften slightly as he looks at you. "Sorry doesn't fix everything, you know," he mutters, his voice laced with a hint of pain. “I wasn't thinking, I was jealous of her, I thought she was the one you wanted, and you’ve been with her longer and know her better. I didn't think I stood a chance next to her” Charles's expression softens further as he hears your words. "You thought I didn't want you?" he asks, his voice quieter now. "That I'd rather be with her than you?" He takes a step closer to you, his eyes roaming over your face. "You've really been that blind?" he asks, a hint of disbelief in his tone. "All this time, you really thought I didn't want you?" He reaches out, tentatively taking your hand in his. “You tried to tell me so many times, in so many ways. Yet i never tried to give us a chance” you whisper

Charles nods, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "Yeah, I tried. But you didn't listen," he says, his voice a mixture of anger and resignation. "You were so fixated on the divorce, on this act, that you didn't see the genuine feelings I had for you." You say nothing, you simply just look into his eyes. Charles lets out a sigh, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. "Did you really think all those looks, all those little moments between us, were just pretend?" he asks, his voice quiet but laced with a hint of hurt. “I’ve always felt something for you” you finally admit. Charles's breath hitches at your words, his eyes searching your face. "Do you really mean that?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. You nod “I tried to avoid the feelings because I was scared about what the media and your fans would say, and I didn't want to keep up the lie of how we met but I don't care, I don't care anymore because all I know is that I want you”  

HIs expression softens further as he hears your confession, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "You idiot," he mutters, a hint of a smile on his lips. "You wasted all this time trying to deny what you really want, all because you were scared of what other people would think?"

You can't help but laugh at your stupid actions. Charles smiles at the sound of your laughter, the tension in the room slowly beginning to ease. "You just had to make everything so complicated, didn't you?" he teases, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “I won't mess up again” you say leaning into his touch. Charles's eyes hold a fierce determination as he speaks, his hand still resting on your cheek. "I hope not, because I'm not going to let anyone or anything come between us again. No more lies, no more hiding. Just you and me." You smile at his words “I like that idea”. Charles grins at your response, his hand sliding down to cup your chin. "Good," he says, his voice taking on a huskier tone. "Because I've been dreaming about having you all to myself for far too long”. 

You feel a sense of desire wash over you as he speaks. Now that both of you have made it clear where your feelings stand, you can finally give in to the attraction you have for him. The desire that you've been trying to convince yourself doesn't exist. “You know… everyone is downstairs so no one is going to interrupt us if we kiss” you tell Charles in a low seductive voice. Charles's grin widens at your suggestion, his eyes darkening with need. "Finally. no interruptions" he responds, his tone matching yours. He pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist as his lips move towards yours. You spent so much time pushing him away so it's only fair that you make the first move. After 3 weeks since the last kiss, your lips meet again. Charles responds eagerly, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. There is a hint of desperation in the way he kisses you, as if he's trying to make up for the time he's lost. His hands slide your lower back, pulling you against his body. Neither of you care about the party downstairs.  

The kiss deepens, Charles's tongue tangling with yours as he devours your mouth. The only sound in the room is the mingled gasps and moans as the kiss becomes more intense and passionate. “I need you” you whine as you break the kiss. Charles's eyes widen at your words, a primal desire igniting within him at the needy tone of your voice. He tightens his grip on you, his hands roaming your body without restraint. "You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you to say that" he says as his lips find their way to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. You guide Charles backwards, never breaking the contact of his lips on your skin. You steer him towards the bed, your movements purposeful and full of want. As the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress, he pushes you onto the bed, climbing on top of you in one fluid motion. You waste no time, you quickly remove his tie and unbutton his shirt. His breathing quickens at your actions, his body responding eagerly to your touch. His hands roam your body, desperate to once again feel your skin against his. He nips and kisses at your lips as he pushes your dress up over your head, discarding it carelessly on the floor beside the bed. 

“Please touch me” you say in between kisses. Charles' eyes darkened at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Oh now you want me to touch you" he says, his voice thick with lust and humor. His mouth continues its descent, his tongue tracing a path over your chest and down to your stomach. His hands move lower, gripping the waistband of your panties, as if silently asking for permission. You eagerly nod watching his fingers quickly push them down over your hips, leaving you bare. His eyes roam over your body, a look of pure hunger in his gaze. “So beautiful,” he whispers. Charles stands up to take off his pants, his eyes watching you intently as he throws them aside. He shifts his body as he comes near you again, pressing himself against you, his skin now flush against yours. His hands wander down to your hips, gripping them possessively as he pulls you closer. You moan at the feeling of having him pressed up against you. Charles smiles at you , his eyes fixated on yours. "Just relax, I've got you." He lifts himself up with one arm, his eyes roaming over your body as he positions himself with your entrance. 

You can't help but moan at the feeling of him going inside of you. He looks down at you, his eyes locking on yours as he slowly applies speed, his lips parting slightly as he lets out a gasp. "Are you okay?" he asks huskily, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah” you reply in a shaky breath as you watch him thrust into you. Charles groaned, his head falling back as he felt you on him. “O-oh fuck.” He gasps, his hands automatically moving to your hips guiding your moves. 

After moments of continuing like this you feel yourself reaching your high “Charles in gonna…” you say in between your sounds of pleasure. Charles smiles at you “Fuck, me too” he says, his voice desperate. His thrusts become harder making you both reach your climax. He moans against your ear as you move your hips to ride out your high. 

“I needed that for so long” you moan as Charles lays next to you, his chest heaving with exhausted breaths. He nuzzles his face into your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around your body. 

“Could have done this a lot sooner ” he says, his voice hoarse and raw. “Whatever” you say as you chuckle. Charles moves away from your neck, his eyes looking into yours with a warm expression before speaking. “I'm sure this made it clear but i don't want to go back to vegas, i don't want to get divorced”  You grin widens at his words, your eyes lighting up with pleasure. “Is that so?” you say, your tone light and teasing. “You’re sure you don’t want to go back to pretending we’re in love?” you joke. Charles laughs at your words “Stop it” he says as he pokes your side. You laugh along with him, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "Sorry, sorry," you say, your tone unapologetic. "I just couldn't resist. But in all seriousness,” you continue, your expression growing more sincere. “I don't want a divorce either. I want you, all of you. For real this time”. 

“No more pushing me away,” he says in a low voice.

You shake your head, your eyes fixed intently on his. "No more pushing you away," you agreed, your voice firm and unwavering. "No more games, no more secrets. Just us, no pretending, no Vegas." You smile as you continue your sentence “But when we meet someone new, and they ask about us. Will we still keep up the lie on how we met?” you ask Charles. He laughs at your question “Well yes, we still can't have anyone finding out the truth”. You nod your head in understandment “Well then there's still one more person we need to lie to” 

Charles raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth “Yeah? who?”

“My mom, in New York” You reply smiling 

--------------------------

A/N: Finally the end! I really hope you guys enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed and loved writing it. I'm new to the writing community and the love you guys have showed me is amazing and it really motivates me. Thank you <3.

TAGLIST: @tsireyasgf @v4mp1r3bl0g @asparklysoul @sltwins @janeh22 @aleatorio1234 @perfectlycoralsheep thank you for reading, I appreciate it so much :)

[gojossocks]

Gossips and Convenience Stores

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Summary: just some jjk first years gossiping lmao. Implied that Geto didn’t turn batshit crazy and killed a lot of people.

a/n: this is probably an epilogue to a series I’ve been wanting to write for a while. lmk if you guys liked it ! <33

“I wonder when Gojo-sensei will ask Y/N-sensei out.” Nobara asks, before taking a bite of her onigiri.

Nobara, Yuuji, and Megumi were all sitting together in an empty parking lot outside a convenience store, something that has become a routine after a tiring mission.

It’s midnight. Most of the diners are closed and the only store open was the 7/11, just a few blocks away from Jujutsu High.

“It’s kinda annoying,” She continued. “Every time I see that damned teacher around her, he gets more annoying. That’s a given since he’s more annoying than when he’s with Geto-sensei. If that’s his way of flirting then I don’t think he could ever pull her.”

Megumi snorts at Nobara’s keen observation. “I’m surprised you noticed that.”

She rolls her eyes before glaring at Megumi, “How could I not? Even our principal notices it. Hell, even Yuuji knows it. Right?!” She turned to look at Yuuji, who shrugged mindlessly while eating his noodles.

“I don’t know, he does talk about her all the time. Whenever I ask what’s their history or whatever, he says they were long time friends.”

Megumi snorted at the statement, earning a look from his classmates.

“What’s that look you got, Fushiguro?” Nobara accuses him. He replies with a hum.

Nobara sighs before clicking her tongue. “Anyway, I know you know a lot about those two because Maki-san told me you basically grew up with having them around. Besides, he always asks you to bring pizza for Y/N-sensei. I think it was an unrequited thing, don’t you think? I mean she’s way out of his league if you ask me.” She says confidently.

Megumi knew that this was bound to happen but he never thought that he would have to explain the situation this early. He really hates it when people gossip about his life— and that extends to Y/N. He met Satoru and Y/N when he was 6 years old. Most of his childhood, he and Tsumiki stayed with the Gojos.

“They used to be together.” Megumi mumbles, looking down at his shoes. He then looks up at his friends when the both of them yell ‘HUH?!’ in unison. He couldn’t blame them though. Satoru and Y/N’s acting skills as if they were never together in the first place really fooled a lot of people, especially the people who don’t know anything about them.

“Yeah,” He says, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. Megumi takes a sip from his pepsi, in hopes to escape Nobara and Yuji’s interested gaze. “They’re marrie— could you both shut up for a bit?” He grumbles in annoyance.

Nobara scooches closer to Megumi. “Oh my god, tell me everything.”

He rolled his eyes but continued anyway. “They were in an arranged marriage as far as I know. They were together for 8 years. I think they’ve known each other for much longer, though.”

“Oh he definitely fumbled the bag.”

Yuji stares at him with his mouth agape. His eyes suddenly widened as he dramatically gasped, “Is that why you accidentally called Y/N sensei ‘mom’ ?!”

Megumi feels blood rising from his cheeks. He quickly looks down at his shoes once more to prevent Nobara and Yuji from seeing him embarrassed. Both of them started giggling.

“So that means you call Gojo-sensei ‘daddy’ huh?” Nobara smirked at the onyx haired boy. Megumi chokes on his drink before muttering a ‘shut up, I don’t.’

“So why did they break up?” Yuuji asks.

“I’m not really sure. They try to keep us out of their problems. Y/N just packed up one day and that was it. We kept in touch but she made me promise not to tell Gojo anything. Anyway, that’s it, stop questioning me.”

Nobara points a finger accusingly at the empty parking lot, “I bet he has commitment issues. Yeah, just by looking at him, he’s definitely the type to have one.”

“They have been together, for 8 years.” Megumi deadpans.

“Damn, adults are complicated.” Yuuji whines. “They’d look great together though.”

“He still fumbled! I bet my new perfume on that. To be honest, I don’t really see Y/N sensei with him. He seems chaotic enough as he is.”

“That’s a little harsh.”

“Well, she tolerates us,” Yuji adds, “Besides I don’t think Gojo-sensei will ask her out. Earlier, I saw Y/N-sensei on a date. I just forgot to tell you guys.”

Even Megumi doesn’t know that.

“What?!” Nobara exclaims, standing up. “C’mon, it’s 2 am. I need to get my beauty rest. I’ll get the Y/N and Gojo lore this week. I can’t wait to interview Geto-sensei!”

“That’s invading their privacy.” Megumi sighs.

Nobara and Yuuji kept asking Megumi questions, theorizing and pestering each other. The three of them talked (read: argue) on the way home, too engrossed in the mystery of Gojo and Y/N’s relationship.

Meanwhile they fail to notice their teacher casually leaning on the wall beside the convenience store, chuckling at his students’ curiosity.

Gojo shakes his head before heading off to god knows where.

gojo u naughty boi why are u out at 2 am wanna read more?

[rafaslittleboy]

PROWL

pairing: dad!sonny carisi x reader

summary: your mom and dad argue all the time, and with a little bit of digging, you learn it’s because your dad isn’t being satisfied.

tags: incest, father/child incest, DONT READ IF U DONT LIKE, reader is early twenties so LEGAL AGE, smut, p-in-v sex, clit rubbing, slight fingering, selfish sex (but you like it). Reader has no specified gender but has pussy/clit. Office sex, kissing, your dad and mom don’t get along.

special thanks for @noellawrites for helping me greatly with this fic ❤️

smut below the cut, minors don’t interact & don’t interact if you’re sensitive and don’t like these sort of fics.

The first thing you heard as you entered the apartment was yelling. Your mom scoffing and dishing out a mouthful of verbal assaults on your dad. When you unlocked the door and stepped in, their argument hushed and then as you walked into the open-plan kitchen, the argument ceased to exist. As if it never happened in the first place.

“Is… everything okay?” and you were met with mutual silence. “Dad?

“It’s nothin’.” Dominick replied curtly and turned on the coffee maker. “How was work?” he asked, quick to change the subject.

You could tell when your father was annoyed—nearing angry, he would clench his jaw and the muscles in his arms (which showed under his shirt, rolled up to the elbow). He always tried to not show you when he was in a mood that wasn’t happy, but he was only human. Your mother, on the other hand, was always in a negative mood—nothing was ever good enough for her.

You sighed and put down your backpack and took a seat on a stool at the island. “It was whatever, I hate working nights.”

Sonny turned to you with a fresh mug of caramel flavoured coffee in his large hands. In exchange, you handed him a paper bag containing a pastry that he tended to eat most mornings. Whether you brought one back or he visited you before he got to the courthouse to start his treacherous day.

“Aw, kid, ya didn’t have to.” He always says that, kissing you on the cheek as he takes it from your hands. Your cheeks grew warm. “Thank you, this’ll definitely keep me goin’—really made my mornin’.” and your dad smiled wide at you, the sides of his eyes crinkling.

Your stomach flipped.

Your mom was silent still, angrily making breakfast. Her movements were enough to show you that she was in a mood, and that you should probably stay out of her way for the rest of the day.

Your dad came into your life when you were ten. Ten years after having a meant-nothing relationship with your mom and only when she was running low on money, she reached out and contacted your father for a little child support money. Sonny was shocked at first, finding out he had a kid, but after taking care of new-born Jesse and having his paternal instincts go haywire for a child that wasn’t his; it was like Christmas came early on a Wednesday evening in Spring.

Sonny asked for visitation and your mom agreed, and the first thing he did was look for two-bedroom apartments. Sonny worked overtime in the precinct just so he could afford the extra room, anything for his little angel. And as you grew, you preferred his apartment more and more. He came home late, but he would always enter your room and make sure you were breathing and safe, always leaving a kiss on your forehead.

Somehow within the last eleven years, your mom moved in with Sonny and it was like a nice little family. Sometimes your mom and dad acted as if they were together, sometimes they didn’t.

And as you entered your early twenties, he still did it. As he transitioned from Detective to Assistant District Attorney, he worked even more hours just to support your little family, your mom stopped working and it was up to your father to provide for all of you—so that’s why you took a stupid, underpaying twenty-four-hour internet cafè just to help out with bills.

—

Later on in the evening, you sat down next to your dad in the living room. Your mom was already asleep in their shared bedroom, likely lost in a wine-induced dream.

“What was the argument about? Today?”

“S’nothin’, don’t worry ‘bout it. Ain’t your problem.” And he leaned over to kiss you on your forehead, lingering just a few seconds longer.

“B-but— if it’s you and mom, it is my problem. I’m your kid, I’m the one tying you together,” you sigh miserably.

Sonny turns to look at you with a sad expression before cupping your cheek in his big hand. You were closer to your Dad than your mom, because of things like this; he cared so much about you and she showed it.

He examined the pleading look in your eyes, and he knew you wouldn’t drop the subject until you received a satisfactory answer.

“Your mom ‘n I… we really try. I always do what she wants when she wants it, ‘ya know? But she uses me, n’ then when I want some, it’s like she don’t even wanna look at me—“ he sighed.

“Daddy— you don’t deserve that,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm, sleeves rolled up to his elbow. Your faces were so close, you were glad that the room was dimly lit just enough so your dad couldn’t see the warm blush rising up your cheeks.

“‘S okay, doll. I got you, you’re all I need,” he says with a smile, leaning over to kiss your forehead before getting up to go to his bedroom. You watched him as he walked off and turned to the bedroom he shared with your mom, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

—

You woke up early in the morning to the sound of hushed arguing. Their voices vibrated through the walls like before, and you found yourself closing your eyelids and taking a deep exhale.

It took a minute, you sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes and took a glance at your alarm clock on the bedside table—it was barely over seven in the morning and they were already at each other’s throats.

Your pajamas were a simple set, a cotton t-shirt that was a size or two up from your own size (that was most likely your father’s) and a pair of black cotton shorts; you’d gone to class in worse attire.

Hesitantly, you opened your bedroom door and took a second before you walked to the kitchen where their voices came from. As you entered, your mother turned away from your Dad and bit her tongue and silently and angrily making breakfast as your dad busied himself pouring coffee into his large travel mug.

“Is everything okay?” you asked. You were met from cold silence from your mom, which was the usual in most times. It took a second for your Dad to turn around and give you a tight lipped smile.

“Everythin’s fine, kiddo,” he said, “how’d you sleep?”

“Fine, I guess.” It was great until I was woken up by your constant arguing, you really wanted to say, but you held your tongue and decided to be polite—just like how he raised you to be. Always keep the negative thoughts to yourself.

“I gotta go to work,” he said curtly and kissed your forehead, as he always did.

“Can I come with you?” You asked as he rounded the island to pick up his dark red briefcase. “I dunno, dunno if SVU will need me to do some undercover stuff.”

“Undercover stuff,” your mom tutted and angrily whisked eggs in the pan. “You’re an ADA, you don’t go undercover.”

Sonny shared a glance with you before your mom started again, “there you go, talking about work. Is it because Olivia is there?”

Your mom, Amanda, couldn’t be anymore wrong.

Sonny turns and walks towards the door without saying a word, and you follow.

When you reach the door, you whisper, “can I come with you? Please?”

You knew that if you had your only day off and spent it in the apartment with your mom, she would start on you next—and you really didn’t want to do that.

Your dad takes one last glance at your mom and sighs, ushering you out the door beside him. “Sure, kid. C’mon.” And he ushered you to put on your sneakers and to take your jacket and backpack.

——-

When you reach the eighth floor, Sonny clears a stack of file folders off a spot on his couch for you, giving you a smile as he pats the seat.

“Dad, are you sure there isn’t anything I can do? I hate seeing you and mom arguing like this,” you sigh, bringing up your knees to rest your chin on, your arms wrapping around your calves.

“Baby,” Sonny smiles, “I appreciate your concern but it ain’t somethin’ you can help me with.”

You look at him as he takes a seat in his swivel-chair, and that feeling in your stomach returns. Butterflies, you remember your mom telling you when you were younger, that you’d get butterflies when you liked someone.

Bile rose in your throat with shame.

“You know, I can help with whatever it is. I’m… y’know, older. I’m not little anymore, I’m big.”

Sonny chuckled, smile lines reaching his eyes. “Oh yeah? You’re a big kid?”

“Yup,” you say defiantly, crossing your arms. You notice the twinkle of curiosity in his eye, curious at just how grown up you’ve really become.

“Maybe you’re right.” He smiles at you. In his eyes, you will always be his little angel. No matter how old you get.

Sonny took a second to think, and then he set down his pen. It was a present from Mr. Barba—you had met him when you were younger, often being plopped in his office when your mom wanted to go out for brunch with her friends and your dad worked as a Detective.

“Let me ask ya somethin’, kiddo. Father t’child.” He clears his throat, “N’ you don’t need’a answer, s’totally within your right not to.”

You looked at him, waiting for his question.

“You ever had sex before?”

It was a personal question. You had just turned the legal age to drink alcohol and you barely did that. Sex was something you had only ever done once, and it wasn’t as pleasant as some of the videos you’ve seen.

“Once,” you couldn’t meet his eyes. “It wasn’t good,” you tell him honestly.

“Yeah? Tell me ‘bout that.” And he flicked his file shut and leaned forward on his elbows on his desk. His attention was on you, fully.

“He just… touched me, really. And then he just put it in me and finished.” You put your hands on your bare knees out of nervousness.

“You didn’t… ?”

You shook your head, no. In all the videos you’ve seen, both participants orgasmed and they made it look so good, like it felt amazing. You told him about how it started, how he kissed you and put his hand down your pants and how it all felt so rushed, and when it came to the actual sex; all you had felt a discomfort as the guy who was on top of you pushed inside you and you felt pain, and it rarely felt good.

And your Dad scoffed. “Don’t let boys like that d’that to ya, ain’t right.”

“But I… “ you swallowed, “… maybe I could help you?”

Sonny frowned, confused. “Help me? What do you mean?”

“You could have sex with me.”

Your bold statement was enough to have his eyebrows jump to the top of his forehead, and his mouth hang open slightly in shock. He stood and rounded his desk, closing his open door and flicking the lock, then closing his blinds. “Doll, you can’t say that in the courthouse.”

“I’m sorry—“

“S’fine, just… I’m ya dad,” he started and leaned against the table before you. “Shouldn’t be thinkin’ ‘bout me like that, it’s not right.”

He shamed you into silence, and your skin flushed with embarrassment.

Never in his life did he ever think he would fuck you. Always so keen on raising you to be the smart, level-headed kid you could be. He spent his life’s work going to work to put men away doing exactly what he was about to do.

He put his head in his hands and rubbed his face. Then after a beat, he took his hands off his face and looked at you.

“Doll— I’m gonna help ya out too, okay? Make my lil’ angel feel good. Don’t want ya to be an inexperienced adult,” he says carefully, leaning off from his table and stepping towards you.

“Are you sure? I-I mean, you and mom are having problems and—“

“Stop talking ‘bout ya mom,” he says before capturing your lips in a mesmerizing kiss. Your lips tingle with the force of his lips on yours, his hand coming to cup the back of your head. You kissed him back when he didn’t pull back, and he licked into your mouth and your sigh came out along with a moan.

You felt him smile into the kiss. “Does kissin’ me feel good?”

You swallowed, your eyes shaky as you kept your eyes on your dad. He was so close to you, leaning over you and your lips still touching. “It… it’s better than my other kisses.”

Sonny cocked his head and his eyes glanced down to your black cotton shorts, biting his lip at the lewd thoughts running through his head. He allowed his fingers to trace the band of your shorts and inch them down just a bit. “‘M just more… experienced, that’s what ya need.”

“y—you?”

And that was exactly right. That’s what you needed. Your Daddy.

He kissed you again, but this time it was to take his time and to memorise your taste, to learn the sounds you made when something felt good—and you made these little high pitched sounds—squeaks—when he kissed you harder, pushing you against the back of the leather couch.

He broke the kiss temporarily to place both of his large hands on your hips. “Ain’t gonna make ya do somethin’ ya don’t want to, baby,”

Sonny knew the risks, even as lust clouded his brain. Engaging in incest in the courthouse with his own child was one risk, but ruining your relationship with him was another. He would hate to ruin things with his only child; to have to run back to Amanda and her fatherless children just to play ‘happy family’ again.

“I—I want it,” you whimpered, “I— I want to do… this with you.” and you meant it. Your feelings for your Dad had only grown so much more since he put his lips on yours and kissed you properly.

Sonny groaned and bit his lip, his cock swelling. “Say it again, baby.” his voice was low, enough to be a growl.

Your body shook with adrenaline and nervousness. You held your breath as his big, warm hands ghosted over your soft, smooth skin.

Your Dad slipped his fingertips into the band of your shorts and pulled down your little lounge shorts the rest of the way, pulling them over your sneakers and letting them drop to the floor. The only thing between you two was your flimsy underwear, and he could see a very clear wet spot dampening the fabric.

“Haven’t seen that in a while,” he said and the tip of his finger prodded the damp patch. He didn’t miss your gasp, how your hips jutted upwards in need and selfish want. If he had his way he would take his time. Sink to his knees, shove his mouth in your pussy and taste his little kiddo’s juices.

Your Dad saw your nervous expression, and it took him until only then to realise that this would be the first proper sex experience you would have (with your own father, at that, it’s probably making you feel under pressure to do good.)

“Hey… “ he cupped your burning cheek, “s’okay… d’you wanna see mine first? just t’make you feel better?”

You nodded carefully, soon enough leaning into the palm of his hand. He tapped your cheek before he took his hand and put it to his belt, undoing the buckle and pulling it through the hoops and letting it drop to the floor beside your cotton pyjama shorts. His long, deft fingers went to his fly and unzipped it, then he pulled out his cock out from inside his dress pants. Your eyes were glued to the large appendage and you swallowed your saliva in nervousness.

Sure, you had only seen one penis before, but it was tiny, shriveled— nothing like your dad’s long, curved cock. It was not hard enough to stay up, flaccid only just enough that it dangled between his thighs.

“You okay?” He asked, and you nodded again; “uh huh,” and you couldn’t find the strength to take your eyes off him.

His blue eyes bore into yours as his fingers nudged your underwear, a similar situation to his removal of your shorts.

“This okay, doll?” he asked. Once you began to nod, he slid your undies all the way down. The cool air of your dad’s office hit your sensitive little pussy and you shivered, earning a smile from your dad.

“Don’t worry, doll. S’cold, same thing happens to me,” he gestures, and you look down right at your own dad’s hard cock.

“Can—can I touch it?” You asked. It was hard to believe that you were made from that, that at one point just over twenty years ago, you had come out of him and it was just staring right back at you.

“Sure.” Sonny smiled, and he took your hand and helped you wrap your small fingers around him in a light grip. The sudden pressure alone was enough to make him grumble deep in his chest.

In the videos you had seen on the internet, you knew how to copy hand movements—so you moved your hand up and down his cock, slowly, testing the waters. You didn’t see it, but the man who made you; his head tipped backward at the feeling of your hand squeezing his cock.

“does it—does this feel good?”

“Kid, you got no fuckin’ idea.” He groans and he looks down at you, cock barely an inch away from your innocent face. “N’ expert,” he praises.

After a while, his need to be inside you grew by each passing second. Your pussy was bare on the leather, making a small clear puddle of your arousal on the worn leather of his couch.

“S’enough, baby.” and he took your hand off his hard cock, no longer any sort of flaccid, instead as hard as he’s been in years.

You moved yourself so you were leaning back, and he followed you and pulled your hips down—your legs and ass dangling off the couch and his arms supporting you. “Makin’ me fuckin’ crazy, baby, gonna fuck you deep right here.”

You let out a breathy laugh that was cut short as he forced his tongue in your mouth; working overtime as his hand made its way to your wet pussy and rubbed the seam with his fingers. Gasping into his mouth, moaning lightly (aware of your noise, knowing there were people actually doing their job in the courthouse) as his long fingers stimulated your clit and your little wet hole.

“Makin’ me do things a Daddy shouldn’t do,” he growled, “you eva’ touch yourself like this? ‘magining your Dad gettin’ you ready for his cock? huh? little baby?”

You never once imagined what his dirty talk would be like, so filthy in your ear. But he was right, there had been a few times you’ve imagined him touching you late at night. Disgusting thoughts that clouded your mind in the devil's hour.

He was so quick but gentle, giving you attentive kisses and soothing your nerves as he prepared you to take your dad’s cock.

You whined when you felt his hard cock bump against your inner thigh, eyebrows furrowing. His fingers on your clit felt good and his tongue invading your mouth made you drool.

Sonny peeked down to where his erect cock was positioned between your legs. For a single second, he hesitated—it was as if his mind came back to him.

He can’t do this, it isn’t right—he’s your father. The tip of his cock leaked a stray tear of pre-cum and his cock throbbed in his grip. Your pussy was right there, barely an inch away from pushing inside your tight little hole, and he knew the minute he pushed inside you, he would never be able to stop.

Already imagining the next time he’ll get to fuck you. Maybe later on in the night, sneaking into your room while your mom slept and clamping a hand over your mouth while he finally got to taste your pussy.

His thoughts left him the second they rushed through his mind, and he pushed his hips forward and the tip of his cock notched your wet hole and his fingers stopped rubbing you, settling on a slow rhythm.

Your arm snaked around his neck and pulled him impossibly close to you as he pushed his cock inside you. Your mouth was tight against the fabric of his dress shirt, eyes squeezing shut as the tip of him breached you.

There was still an inch of him hidden beneath his slacks, the cons of having a quickie in his office is that he couldn’t push the entirety of himself inside you. He was fully clothed in a three piece suit he couldn’t just remove very easily.

Your own father’s cock inside you, the same cock that made you was inside you. And that kept running through your mind.

But for the most part, he was fully inside you. And your thighs trembled and shook at the fact your Dad was inside you.

“S’okay… s’okay—“ Sonny choked as he turned his head so he could mumble against the side of your lips. “Just hold onto daddy.”

And you did, your little fingers digging into his shoulder blade as he gave an experimental light thrust of his hips and he groaned, it came deep from his throat and his hand tight on your thigh spread your leg wider as he fucked his cock into you, finding his rhythm inside you.

“Takin’ ya dad’s cock so fuckin’ well.”

Your pussy clenched on him at his words. Reminding you that he wasn’t some guy from work—that you were falling apart on your dad’s cock.

“J—Jesus, d—dad,” you moaned and bit onto his shirt for some sort of stability. His cock was pumping inside you and your bare thighs were met with the soft fabric of his dress pants, muffling what would’ve been harsh, wet slaps of flesh meeting in a selfish hurry. “F—feels so good.”

If you were worried about his co-workers hearing what was happening inside his office before, you definitely weren’t now. Muffling your moans in his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut as the pressure in your pussy built and built with the faint pain of the tip of his cock thumping against your cervix.

“D—dad,” you gasped, “f—fuck, I’m���o—oh my g—god, it—“

Sonny pressed his forehead against yours once more, murmuring against your lips, “gonna cum, baby? Cummin’ already on ya daddy’s cock?”

He could tell by with how your fingers dug into his shoulders, how he could feel the drool you had left behind on his chest and with how fucking tight your pussy was gripping him; getting tighter by the second, almost trying to push his cock out of you.

His thumb worked harder on your hard clit, pressing down and circling in harder circles. Where his hand was, your pussy was so wet, dripping onto the couch like a burst pipe and covering his dress pants (and he thanked Barba for telling him to always keep a spare suit in his office, in case of emergencies. And fucking his own flesh and blood child to oblivion and back was one of them.)

“D—dad—daddy—dad,” you babbled against his soft lips, “can I—p—please?”

Oh, how sweet. You asked permission, always a polite kid. He wonders who taught you that—your manners, that is, and it was him. Your mom would’ve raised you to be a bully if he didn’t get there when he did.

His cock fucked harder into you and as a result it had the top of your head hitting the soft cushion and your moans grew louder but were still muffled into his shoulder.

“C’mon, baby, please fuckin’ cum—need’a feel it, honey, let ya dad feel ya cum—“

Sonny’s words spurred you on, his thumb rubbing hard circles on your clit and his cock pounding into the very end of you was just enough to set you over and you came all over his cock with a muffled squeal, eyes clenched painfully shut and your arms pulled him impossibly closer to you. Your pussy tightened almost painfully on his cock and the pressure was just enough to push him out, but his greedy cock fought against it and and pushed and fucked you through your first orgasm by a cock.

Little squirts of liquid left your pussy and splattered on his dress pants, not enough to turn heads if anyone walked in, but enough to make your Dad moan like a whore.

“That’s it—what a good fuckin’ kid, doin’ as you’re told—makin’ me feel so good.”

You weren’t your mother—you were his perfect little angel that he made himself, in his image. And that alone was enough to convince himself not to pull out—if there were consequences of his actions, he’d allow those consequences with open arms.

Not even a second later, you felt his cock pump inside you harder and faster—then you felt the vibration of his deep, throaty groan against you and felt the warm spurts of his pent up cum inside you.

“Daddy,” you whimpered.

“That felt fuckin’ good,” he groaned and tipped his forehead onto your shoulder, his thrusts slowing as he rode out his orgasm inside you.

He felt better than he had in a long time. He just now realised he didn’t need your mother, he never did. As long as he had you, he had an obedient little kiddo to take their daddy’s big cock. He knew you wouldn’t miss an opportunity to show your dad how grown up you really were.

It took him a minute to pull out of you, your pussy gripping him and milking him for everything he has and he didn’t want to leave the hot, wet pussy that he took part in making. Fuck, that thought alone was enough to give a hard twitch into his softening cock. But when he did, his cum spilled out with him and onto the already wet leather of the couch.

“Look’a that, baby, look how much you milked outta me—greedy little thing,” and his hand smoothed over your thigh to insert a finger into your sore and spent pussy, plugging his cum back inside you. Your hole clenching around him, even more so when his thumb takes place back on your oversensitive clit.

“D—dad,” you gasped and put your hand on his wrist. “That—“

“‘Know what it is, honey,” and he leaned over to grab your underwear and slid them back up your legs, back where they once were before he decided to fuck you in his office of law. Patting your now clothed pussy, he stood on shaky legs and tucked himself away.

He leaned back down to press his lips to yours, “done me real proud, kiddo, think you deserve a nice nap, huh?” he spoke as he nuzzled his nose with your own and you smiled, lazily biting your bottom lip.

“Still feels like you’re inside,” you say in a whisper.

“Means I fucked ya too good,” and he kisses your nose and then your lips—as if it was second nature. “Now get some sleep, I’ll wake ya for lunch.”

—-

At the dinner table that night, the tension was thick. Your dad had slaved away on the stove making a chicken dish, (with your ‘help’, after the events of earlier in the day, you became so clingy, wanting to be beside him if he couldn’t be inside you) but your mom wanted steak and that was enough for her to give him disrespectful comments on how it tasted, how she preferred her best friends husband’s steak casserole compared to Sonny’s Italian ‘chicken-thing’.

His hand settled on your thigh beneath the table, Your hand was over his, entangling your fingers together.

[luvtonique]

I wanna tell a little story. Just a little one. [Edit after typing: Yeah I ranted for a while. Oh well.]

I grew up with a dad who was extremely racist, extremely homophobic, and extremely abusive. Used to beat me and my brothers for 20+ years of my life, left us all with mental disorders and trust issues, you name it.

One such story of his homophobia and beatings is that my brother had a boyfriend at one point, and my dad hit him with a belt and screamed at him until he agreed to break up with said boyfriend, which he did.

Now cut ahead 20 years, my dad met an openly gay celebrity online and became friends with him. All the sudden, my dad was Mr. LGBT Pride. He was a writer, and suddenly started writing a book about a gay cowboy called Buck Justice. He would rent movies with gay actors in it, or gay themes, and was suddenly super pro gay.

It just left all of us disgusted, my brothers and my mom. We knew this man, but people on Facebook didn't. He had this huge friend group all the sudden of people calling him "Dad" and "Big Bob" and shit (When in reality, my dad called himself N*gger Bob and even had that written on the whiteboard next to his phone number), and he kept telling us all these stories and laughing and having a good time about how "Cool gay people are."

You see, it left a poor fucking taste in our mouth.

Because we had personally seen how horrible this man was. He beat us. He beat my bisexual brother. He was a fucking monster, but now that he was in some clique with a big popular movie star friend, he was suddenly this shining beacon of gay pride.

That's what bothers me when I see people on the internet acting the same way. I see the disingenuous nature of their actions. I see the popular people they're brown-nosing, I see the big popular bloggers and streamers they're trying to be friends with who are spouting the same bullshit.

And the reason it bothers me is because I know who these people are. I go back in their blogs like 1 month and find death threats, calls for violence, mental instability, extreme rage.

I go to their YouTube channels and find videos of them watching rats die on glue traps.

I get invited into their Discord servers and scroll back through the history of them talking with their friends and see just mountains of hate posting, calling for violence, wishing people would be killed, celebrating the death of people they hate.

That's why I don't do that shit. And why I don't tend to hang out with people who do. Because I know those people aren't really respectful people. I know they don't truly want equality.

I know the truth. From 20 years of belt marks on my back.

I know y'all are fucking disgusting people who are just pretending to be respectful advocates for equality and peace because the big celebrities and vloggers and streamers you wanna be friends with are saying the same shit.

You people aren't real. You are NPCs spouting NPC dialogue in hopes of getting some pseudo social credit score with big e-celebs while all it takes is 10 seconds of scrolling through your blog to find out you are the most disgusting, violent and unhinged person on the internet.

Case in point, y'ever seen a cat owner before?

Tell a cat owner you don't like cats.

Watch what happens.

It's been 9 years since I made a post saying I don't like cats and I still get those fucking psycho pieces of shit sending me extremely descriptive anon asks about how they want my throat to be ripped out by a dog in my sleep. That's who these people really are.

All it takes is one thing that sets them off and they go from your 11-year-running best friend of all time to a person who sends you multiple paragraphs of descriptive ways they hope you die.

I've learned from experience with my dad.

Y'all want equality? Just treat people with respect no matter what. Don't act like there's versions of people or groups of people who deserve more or less respect, because guess what, THAT'S CALLED PREJUDICE YOU FUCKING DIPSHIT.

If you have to say "I am LGBT friendly"

You clearly have something to hide (which I guarantee is like 10 posts down in your blog and is horrifically violent and descriptive) and you are the last person I would expect to actually be LGBT friendly, or any kind of friendly.

[space-matt]

right person, wro- ight time

matt.sturniolo x fem.reader

summary: lifelong best friends, but with hidden feelings.

Can one night change everything?

request: yes -> anon

cw: use of y/n, angst, fluff (?), mention of sex

author’s note: hello everyone!!! Here I am back after a long time, but I wanted to take a break from writing.

At the moment some of my stories like ''Breaking promises'' are archived because I'm revising them and changing some things, if you want you can take a look here -> masterlist

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺

English is not my first language, if you see grammar and typing mistakes, I apologize in advance! I just ask you not to be rude to me ♡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺

As you watch Matt and his girlfriend engage in a passionate display of affection on the couch, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. Jealousy and anger course through your veins as you long to be the one in his arms. The scene before you seems like a cruel reminder of what you can't have.

You have known Matt, and his brothers Nick and Chris, for as long as you can remember. Your mom's close friendship brought the four of you together, and you've been inseparable ever since.

You've shared countless memories together, from taking warm baths as toddlers to navigating the ups and downs of adolescence.

Your feelings for Matt first emerged when you were just eight years old. While his siblings ran around and teased each other, he was the only one who pushed you on the swing, making you feel safe and cared for. 

Or how that time in middle school he was next to you when coming out of the bathroom, he noticed a red spot on your butt and promptly gave you his sweatshirt to cover you up.

Over the years, your attachment to him only grew stronger, even as you had flings with other boys. You never acted on your feelings, though, afraid of ruining the strong bond you had built with him over the years.

Now, as you watch him with his girlfriend, you can't help but wonder what could have been if you had been brave enough to take a chance on love.

As you sit on a cushioned chair in the cozy kitchen, you turn towards the stove and place your phone on the wooden table, emitting a snort of frustration. Chris, who is equally exhausted by the ongoing show, rises from the couch and comes to hug you from behind, enveloping you in his strong arms.

"God, I can't stand them anymore," he whispers softly in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

"Don't tell me" you reply, your eyes still fixated on the screen of your phone, as you use one hand to scroll through social media and the other to caress Chris's hand, which is resting on your chest.

At times, you find yourself wondering why your heart chose Matt over Chris, especially given that Nick is off-limits. Chris is so caring, kind, and affectionate with you that you have thought several times that he actually has feelings for you.

However, you try to suppress this thought because if it were true, you would disappoint his heart by telling him that the person you love is his brother.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • 

As you lay on Nick's bed, you stare up at the ceiling, taking in the intricate patterns of the plasterwork. The guy sitting beside you is completely absorbed in editing the video that they plan to post later on that evening, with their headphones on and their eyes fixed on the computer screen. 

Suddenly, a loud and jarring sound reverberates throughout the house, causing you to raise your eyebrows in confusion. You listen carefully, and a few seconds later, another door slams shut, confirming your suspicions that something is definitely wrong.

Your heart racing, you get up from the bed and begin to move cautiously towards the stairs, your senses heightened and your mind racing. As you make your way down to the living room, you can feel the tension in the air, and you can see that Chris is lying on the couch, his face contorted with concern.

You approach him and ask in a hushed voice, "Was that Matt making all that noise?"

He nods his head, his eyes meeting yours with surprise. "Yeah...apparently Perrie dumped him" he replies.

Your voice drops to a whisper as you consider this news, and you say, "Uhm...I'll go check on him..." You walk towards his room, feeling a sense of trepidation in the pit of your stomach. As you approach the door, you can hear the sound of muffled sobs coming from within, and you know that you need to go in and try to help him through this.

You stand outside Matt's door, knocking a few times, but receive no response. You call out to him, "Matt...it's me, please open up" and lean your forehead against the door. Only when you hear the lock click do you lower the handle and enter the darkened room.

As you step inside, the scene before you breaks your heart. Matt is lying on his stomach on the bed, his sobs echoing throughout the room. Without a second thought, you move to his side and embrace him, whispering "Shh...don't cry please, she doesn't deserve you" while gently caressing his back.

Through his tears, Matt manages to speak, "She...she's everything to me." A beam of moonlight enters the room, illuminating the bed you are sitting on, and you can't help but notice how red his otherwise clear eyes have become.

A spontaneous gesture starts from you as you take your sweatshirt sleeve to wipe away his tears. "Do you want to talk about it?" you ask, tilting your head to the side and taking his hand, offering your support and patience.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of pain as you saw your close friend Matt in such a vulnerable state. His head was bowed, and his eyes were shut tight as he let out a deep sigh. You knew that he was going through a tough time in his relationship, and your heart went out to him.

Despite your sympathy for his situation, you found yourself thinking selfishly at that moment. Perhaps, you could finally have a chance with him. You pushed that thought aside, knowing that your emotions were taking over your rational side.

Matt looked up at you, and you could see the sadness in his eyes. He began to speak, but his words trailed off as he struggled to find the right ones. You squeezed his hand, urging him to continue.

"She says she wants to take some time to think, and... she doesn't know if she loves me like before" he finally managed to say, his voice trailing off again.

‘’Ow Matt.. I’m sorry’’ you reached out to him, stroking his cheek as he rested his head against yours. At that moment, time seemed to stand still as you gazed into each other's eyes. You could see the pain etched on his face, and it broke your heart.

As you sat together on the bed, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, your mind began to race with a million different scenarios. You wondered what the future held for you and him. As if in response to your thoughts, you saw Matt's figure approaching you, his gaze fixed on your lips.

''Matt what are you doing?’’ You ask when you find yourself an inch from his lips feeling your breaths grow heavier; 

With a gesture, his lips rest on yours and you can't help but think how soft they are and how long you've been waiting for that moment.

The rest comes on its own: removed all distance remains you, lying on his bed sharing what to you was perfection, Love. To him, it was pure distraction, Sex.

At least that was what he thought at that particular instant.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • 

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping and a few rays of sunshine coming in through the window, casting a warm glow on the room. As you turn your head to the other side of the bed, you notice that the mattress beside you is empty, and a sense of loneliness washes over you. Wrapped naked in the brown sheets, you feel a deep longing for the person who was lying next to you just a few hours ago.

You look around the room and see your clothes scattered on the floor, which reminds you of the events that took place the night before. You recall how you finally confessed your feelings for him, and you think he reciprocated them. It was like a turning point in your relationship, and you couldn't be more thrilled.

However, you don't want to arouse suspicion, so you quickly put on your clothes and quietly walk out the door. As you step into the open space, you notice his figure sitting with his head in his hands. You wonder if he's feeling the same as you. 

You glance around and realize that the other two boys are still sleeping in their rooms, completely unaware of what happened between you and him last night.

As he senses someone's presence, he turns to see who it is. It's you, and you’re standing there motionless. You ask him what's going on, but he remains silent and instead, keeps looking at you. You remain in your position, unsure of what to do next.

Finally, he breaks the silence, "Y/n, we need to talk," his voice is low and serious. You understand that this is not going to be a simple conversation, and you head towards the sofa to sit down. He follows suit.

He stares at you for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. Finally, he says, "What happened between us can never happen again... it was a mistake." His words hit you hard and you feel like someone has just stabbed you in the heart.

The words < It was a mistake > echo in your head, and you can't believe what you're hearing. Your mind is racing with all sorts of thoughts and feelings.

Mistake

Mistake

Mistake

You feel tears welling up in your eyes, your nose burning, and your mouth becoming dry. It's as if a flood of emotions has suddenly been unleashed, and you can't control it. You try to hold yourself together, but it's too late, and you break down in tears.

You look at him with a mix of confusion and hope as you try to decipher what he is trying to say. "I thought that...I thought that you finally reciprocated my feelings and that...we were making love" you stammer, your heart sinking as you realize the truth.

He looks down, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry, y/n. I was confused, and you were there to comfort me. I didn't understand anything anymore" he says, his words heavy with regret. "I'm not in love with you, y/n, but with Perrie"

You feel like the ground has opened up beneath you. It's like the world has stopped spinning and you are trapped in an endless moment of pain. You want to disappear, to run away from this unbearable situation, but you are frozen in place.

You sit there on his couch, tears streaming down your face, as the anger slowly grows more and more. How could he lead you on like this? How could he use you like that?

"How can you say that to me now? Tonight, you didn't think that way when you were inside me, huh?" you say with all the hatred your body could muster at that moment. You get up without waiting for his answer, your mind racing with a million thoughts.

You go towards the front door, slipping on your shoes, and taking your jacket from the coat hanger. The spring breeze kicks in, causing you to clench the fabric covering your shoulders. You slip your hand into your pocket, pulling out your car keys, which you shortly use to lead you toward your home, pulling up with your nose.

You feel lost and confused, your heart shattered into a million pieces. All you can do is cry and wonder how you will ever be able to trust anyone again.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • 

Since that fateful night, two weeks have passed and that feeling of having been just an afterthought only invades your body, and it becomes even heavier when sitting on the couch eating ice cream, you get a notification after days of silence

| Chris: | Wassup ‘ma!! Where have you been? Nick and I miss you :(

As you read his message, it felt like the weight of the world had come crashing down on you. You were slowly sinking into an almost hysterical cry. It was because you had decided to completely cut off all relations with Matt. And, as a result, you had also cut off your two best friends since they lived with him.

You had thought about meeting them outside, but your appearance would have aroused several questions, and declaring that you had sex with their brother would have definitely not been the response you wanted to give.

You lowered your gaze to your belly and started caressing it while tears streamed down your face. The worst thing was when you realized that you were five days late for your period. You panicked and ran to the pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test, and it came back positive.

| You: | Hi, sorry I've been busy with several things... I miss you too <3

A few minutes later your phone lights up again

| Chris: | Did you hear?

A confused expression appears on your face at his question

| You: | Heard what?

Those seconds seem to last minutes, those minutes hours as your anxiety surges.

| Chris: | That moron of Matt got back together with Perrie

Crack

That's what your heart does for the umpteenth time as more tears are released from your eyes that have now turned red.

Out of frustration, you throw the phone across the couch, but it bounces causing it to fall to the floor.

C r a c k

''Fuck'' you pronounce as you stand up to see the distasteful accomplishment. You pick up the phone and see that the screen is half shattered but still working ''Fuck'' you whisper thinking how life is so unfair to you.

| Chris: | Are you still there?

You try to recover by taking a deep breath

| You: | Yeah... sorry but I'm tired, I'm going to go to sleep. I love you.

You cut the conversation short not wanting to know further details

| Chris: | goodnight Love yaa 2

You sit on the couch, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. You close your eyes, trying to control the tears that are forming in your eyes. You take a deep breath, but the feeling in your chest only intensifies. You can't take it anymore, and you know what you have to do. It's something you've done before and something that comes naturally to you - you leave.

You get up from the couch, with a heavy heart, and head to your room. You grab your computer, returning to your comfortable seat, and immediately type into the search engine < flight from LAX to Boston >. You skim through the options, and click on the first website you see, noting that the earliest flight is the next morning. Without thinking about it, you buy a one-way ticket and book the cab that would pick you up.

Immediately after making the transition, you get up and return to your room. You take a deep breath and look around. You know you have a lot to do before you leave. You walk towards your closet and take out your huge suitcase. You begin to stuff all your clothes inside, carefully folding them and making sure everything fits.

You know that this is not going to be easy, but you're determined to leave everything behind and start fresh.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • 

Over the past two months, you have received numerous messages and phone calls that you haven't responded to. Even Matt has tried to get in touch with you, but you decided to change your phone number to avoid any contact. 

When you arrived your parents were somewhat surprised but very happy to see you. You always had a beautiful relationship with them, especially with your mom, your best friend. Although with some fear, you explained the whole situation to her including that you were pregnant with Matt.

The decision to keep him/her is not yet final but you know you have two shoulders to count on and that no matter what, they are there for you.

Slowly your belly begins to become more noticeable, and with the arrival of summer, it is almost inevitable to miss it.

''Darling are you ready? MaryLou and Jimmy are waiting for us'' you hear your mother calling you from downstairs.

You look at yourself in the mirror trying to fix your shirt as best as you can, and to hide the small bump ''Yeah I'm coming'' you reply picking up your bag and then going down the stairs and closing the door behind you heading for the car ''Here I am'' you announce to your parents sitting in the front seats.

The Fourth of July has always been celebrated with the Sturniolo family, between barbeques, swimming in the pool, laughter, and the company of little dog Trevor you have only good memories in your mind.

This year you accepted only because you heard that the three boys would not be there due to several setbacks.

The drive between your homes is fortunately short because nausea begins to set in, and even more so when after stepping out of the car you are invaded by a very strong smell of barbeque.

Immediately having hugged MaryLou and Jimmy, you notice how the house is decorated from top to bottom ''Wow MaryLou you did a great job this year'' you tell her smiling ''Oh don't thank me but those three in the garden, rather go to them, we'll take care of this'' she replies pointing outside

< Are they here? All three of them? Weren't they supposed to be on the other side of the United States? What do I do? Do I run away? Do I stay here? What the fuck do I do? >

Your conscience does nothing but have question after question. You look at your mother for help but she is so busy helping her friend that you see yourself forced to give a big sigh and head for the garden followed by Trev.

''Oh my gosh y/n where the fuck have you been?'' Nick exclaims as he gets up from his chair coming toward you wrapping his arms around you ''Why did you fucking disappear? Literally no fucking messages or fucking calls'' he pulls away looking you in the eye concerned but all you do is stand silent.

Matt and Chris are also standing but neither of them seems to have any idea of moving from their position. Matt still regrets how he behaved while Chris is disappointed and angry at you.

He still doesn't understand how out of all the people you could erase from your life you chose to add him; 

And it is true, in the last few years a wonderful friendship has grown between you where Chris sees you as a reference point when his brothers become too annoying, you were and, despite everything, you are his rock.

''Sorry'' is the only thing you can utter looking away so as not to meet their gazes.

''Only sorry can you say? You are so selfish! You thought only of yourself abandoning everyone, you abandoned me'' Chris pronounces in a harsh tone approaching you, doing nothing but bringing tears to your eyes

''Say something, speak the fuck up. What do you have to say for yourself?'' Chris continues waving his arms in different directions leading you to take a step back ''Chris please you're scaring her'' Nick says hitting him on the arm ''I don't fucking care, I want to know why'' the smaller one replies to him always looking at you.

The tension in the air is palpable, and you feel a sense of helplessness wash over you as you try to explain your actions.

At that point Matt couldn't stand that situation anymore ''It's me'' he exclaims making everyone turn their gazes in his direction ''What you?'' Chris asks confused ''I'm the reason she ran away'' he says lowering his gaze ''And what about you? What the fuck happened?’’ Nick asks as he sits waiting for someone to speak, but silence reigns among you as you hear your parents' voices in the distance.

''Me and y/n had sex the day Perrie dumped me'' Matt pronounces in a whisper, almost not making himself heard ''Speak up motherfucker'' Chris says putting even more agitation on you ''Oh Jesus Christ me and Matt had sex, but it was just a one-night stand for him, which it wasn't for me since I'm madly in love with him. I thought by getting away from him and consequently from you, I wouldn't suffer but I feel like shit about it and even more since I found out I'm preg- '' you say all in one breath freezing as you realize you've told your little secret.

The silence between you and your friends seems to last forever, as you try to process what just came out of your mouth. "Are you pregnant?" Matt asks, approaching you. You nod, almost instinctively, bringing your hand to your belly. 

"Why did you keep it to yourself, y/n? You know we'll always be there for you" Chris says, his tone softening, almost as if your revelation made him forget the months that passed without any interaction from you.

You try to explain, "I don't know...I was scared and I still am now. Besides, knowing that Matt was back with Perrie made me feel bad, so I did the only thing I could do: go back home." You sit down next to Nick, feeling overwhelmed and vulnerable.

Matt then reveals that he and Perrie are no longer together, and Nick and Chris decide to leave the two of you alone. Matt takes a chair and places it in front of you, his tone calm but agitated at the same time. "I know what I told you that morning and what I'm about to tell you sounds like nonsense, but..." He takes a deep breath before continuing, "After you left that morning, I felt like shit. I shouldn't have treated you that way and I shouldn't have made you feel like just a spare tire."

He pauses for a moment before continuing, "That night kept resonating in my mind, and I thought that getting back with Perrie would make me my old self again, but I couldn't. And I can't get your name out of my mind. I feel that these feelings I've always had I tried to bury and deny myself...but fuck y/n, I'm in love with you." His words enter your brain like a hypnotic spell, leaving you stunned and speechless.

''I was really hurt about it Matt...all these years hoping that one day you would look at me with different eyes but you only had them for other girls, to you I was just your best friend...'' you confess looking into his eyes 

‘' I'm really sorry, if I could go back I would tell the me of 14 years to go to you and not to be afraid to say how I feel'' he says taking your hand in his while with the other he caresses your cheek 

''I hate myself for making you feel this way all these years'' Matt says in a whisper, shifting his gaze from your eyes to your mouth.

''A little bit too but I love you so much'' you say making your lips meet in a passionate embrace, a rush of emotions floods over both of you. The weight of past regrets and missed opportunities seems to dissipate in that single moment. The tenderness in Matt's touch and the sincerity in his words have touched a deep part of your heart. 

With your hands still intertwined, you take a deep breath, ready to embrace the future together, knowing that your love is strong enough to overcome any obstacles that may come your way.

--------------------------------------------------------

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[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART II

I.N x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist

Synopsis: You and Jeongin become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (12,4k words)

Author's note: Sorry for the delay. Enjoy this one too x

YOU: I grew up in a strict family and my mom thinks I'm a saint if only she knew... [chuckles] I'm not good at following rules [shrugs] I'm a natural flirt, I can't help it [bites lips] Jeongin is hot, he has a cute smile and I would love to break rules with him [smiles] I know I'm coming a little late but I think everything is a fair game.

-

It's not the kind of impression you want to give him when you almost trip on the steps as he leads you to the villa, you blame your wedged sandals for it.

"You okay?" Jeongin asks, offering his hand to you.

"I'm okay," You laugh it off and use it as an excuse to grab at his arm and help you walk.

"I think everyone is on the terrace," he mutters.

Instead of being nervous, you're so excited to meet the rest of the guests that you start giggling as he takes you climbing another set of steps to where everyone is.

"Hello, everyone," Jeongin greets everyone.

You wave your hand and put on your best smile at everyone sitting on the sofa. One girl with blonde hair has her jaws drop open seeing your hands are linking around his arm.

"Hi!" You sweetly greet.

While Jeongin introduces your name around, you look at each and every face, and notice that a girl is slightly not pleased to see you. You can safely assume that it's the girl Jeongin mentioned.

"How was the date? What happened? Tell us everything!" The guy with dirty blonde hair asks.

"It was fun," Jeongin answers, then glances your way.

"We had cocktails, we shared a fruit platter, it was sweet," you continue his sentence, smiling as you reminisce your date with him.

Someone raises his hand in the air and you both stop talking altogether, "Was there any rule-breaking?"

You look at Jeongin but he lets a moment pass in silence so you decide to answer it for both of you.

"No, there was no rule break," you confirm.

Jeongin lets out a chuckle and holds his hand up at the guy who asked, "Relax, Mick, we didn't spend any money," he assures him.

"Have a little faith in me," he adds with a laugh.

You go around getting to know everyone by their names and act calm when you find out the name of the girl Jeongin is currently with.

Then you decide to join them on the sofa and talking to the girls is always a good start.

"So, what is your type?" The blond girl asks which you learned her name is Francoise.

"Uhm..." you subtly point at Jeongin, "He is my type."

"Oh?" She responds with another surprised look on her face.

Just because Jeongin refused to kiss you doesn't mean you're already giving up on him. He doesn't want to do it because he's already with someone and he doesn't want to do it behind her back, you must admit that's an admirable thing to do.

But that's not going to stop you from also getting to know everyone else here.

-

YOU: I don't know how involved they are with each other so we'll have to see about that.

-

Jeongin finds Justine in the dressing and she's probably been waiting for him to talk. She smiles when she sees him coming into the room.

"Let's have a chat," she says.

He knows they'll eventually talk about the date and since everyone else is already in the bedroom, he decides that it's the right time to do it.

"Just a minute," he says, taking a moment to put on a t-shirt before sitting on the chair next to her.

Justine is playing with the make-up tools on the table, tapping her nails against a bottle of facial toner.

"So... tell me all about your date," she says with a low sigh.

Jeongin doesn't want to lie but he knows he shouldn't be too honest about it either. He puts his forthright self to the side and picks his words carefully.

"It was nice. We had a good chat, and we enjoyed getting to know each other," he decides to stop there even though he still has so many things to say about it.

"She's pretty. Very pretty," she comments, playing with her make-up brush next.

"Yeah," Jeongin agrees but in a weak tone.

Justine can't hide her feelings, it's obvious that she does not like this conversation so whatever she asks next, he should be more careful with his answers.

"And what do you think about her?"

"She's nice and

"But you guys didn't kiss," she says.

"Yes," Jeongin shortly answers.

She faces the mirror but he can feel her eyes on him, "Why?"

There's a difference between being a player and being disrespectful, and Jeongin believes that kissing a girl behind Justine's back is the latter.

"I don't want to be disrespectful to you," he answers.

Justine nods and lets him talk more about his decision not to kiss you.

"If the roles were reversed, I don't think I would like it if you kissed someone else," he explains.

A smile blooms on her face and she turns her head at him, acknowledging that he did that because he considers her feelings.

"I appreciate you for that," she says.

It wasn't easy to come to that decision but God, ain't he glad that he refused that kiss? That way he came to the right decision and hurt no one in the process.

She swivels her chair to face him and rests her hand on the side of the chair, "I'm not going to stop you from getting to know everyone, that's our deal but..."

She licks her lips and takes a second to pick the words to say, "If you want to be with her, I want you to tell me."

Jeongin agrees to it with a strong nod because that's the deal the two of you made, "Okay."

"Just be honest with me," Justine reminds him.

"You don't have to worry about that," he assures him because he's been nothing but honest.

Well, except when he told Linda what his favorite feature on her.

-

JEONGIN: I have this instant connection with the new girl but at the same time, I care for Justine.

-

It's not something you both planned, you bump into the other new arrival, Lou, he's about to head out when you come into the bathroom.

Since you both are new arrivals, you may as well talk to him about your respective dates or any potential connections.

"I took Bianca on the date but as soon as I saw Francoise, I think I messed up," he shares.

You can't say much as you're busy brushing your teeth so you nod while looking at him through the reflection in the mirror.

"The whole time we talked outside, she was looking at me," Lou continues, sitting on the edge of the tub while playing with his wavy hair as he talks.

"That gets me thinking that the guy she's with is just someone she's with, you know what I'm saying?"

You wash your mouth with water and move on to the next step of your nighttime routine, "Change of plans, huh?" You playfully say.

Lou's chuckles are echoing in the room, he clicks his tongue then looks at you through the mirror as you wash your face, "And Jeongin is still your top pick?"

You pick up a clean towel from the cabinet and slowly dab your face with it, "Yeah."

Lou also sees the complications in it since Jeongin is with Justine at the moment, "How serious do you think he is with her?"

You grab your tube of moisturizer and take a dollop of it onto the back of your hand, "I don't know but we got that sexual chemistry, we almost kissed," you explain and you're aware of how adolescent you sound saying that.

Even Lou notices that and gives you a strange look, "Mmm?

'I'm telling you, he definitely wasn't so closed off at all," you confidently say, lathering the cream all over your face while talking to him.

Lou cracks a laugh then says, "Fuck, they're going to hate us."

Well, it's not your fault for coming late and crashing the party. Isn't that the purpose of bringing in the new arrivals? To see how they handle temptations so now, it's up to them whether they can resist it or not and you're simply going for the one you want, Jeongin.

"You got to go for what you want to go for," you remark.

-

YOU: If I want something, I get it. I don't let anyone get in my way.

-

Even though it's your first day in the retreat, you find yourself having a good night's sleep that you wake up feeling so refreshed. You sit on the bed and rest your back against the headboard, reaching for the tumbler on the bedside table to have a sip of water.

Lou is groaning as he shifts on the bed and his eyes meet yours with his wavy hair covering his face, "Morning" he croaks.

As new arrivals, you and Lou have to share the bed and since he doesn't snore, you don't have any problems with him.

"Morning," you greet him back.

A while later, the cone chimes and your head snaps to see where Lana is. You spot her on the other end of the bedroom.

"Good morning, everyone," Lana greets.

"Morning!" Linda cheerfully replies to her while the others are too busy forcing themselves awake.

You get startled when Lana calls your name and then Lou, you intently listen to what she has to say to you.

"I hope you enjoyed your dates yesterday and your first night in the retreat."

"I slept well, Lana," you tell her even though you're not sure she'll hear it.

"I hope the other guests have been making you feel most welcome," she continues.

You fix the strap of your camisole and your eyes catch Jeongin looking at you, you hold the gaze for a few seconds before looking away.

"Glad to be here," you respond to Lana.

Jeongin may share the bed with Justine but he's been giving you these cheeky little looks and it makes you more confident that there's something there.

Just like now, Justine is clinging to his arm but his eyes are on you. You tease him by shyly looking down onto your lap but when you glance up, you give him an intense stare.

And the eyes, the eyes tell so much.

-

YOU: I'm looking forward to today. I'm going to be sexual because that's how I am and if anyone has a problem with it, I don't give a shit [laughs]

-

After working out, Jeongin joins the rest of the boys lounging by the pool to cool down before taking a shower. He chugs his water from a tumbler while listening to the guys talking about random stuff.

Something catches everyone's attention and makes them abruptly stop talking. Jeongin turns his head to see what everyone is looking at when it turns out to be you.

You're tying the bikini straps on your back as you walk out of the villa.

"Sheesh," Kurt quietly hisses, having a partner doesn't stop him from ogling at another girl.

You probably sense everyone's eyes on you as you walk across the pool. However, you don't seem to feel bothered with all these eyes on you.

"She's too fit," Mick lowly mutters as now the boys are silently watching you go for a swim on the beach. Even you can turn the sex cop's head and that says something

"She's literally too hot to handle," Keith says, embracing his availability and turning it into an opportunity.

Jeongin takes a moment to witness the boys acting like a bunch of horny teenagers seeing a grown woman for the first time, then shakes his head in disbelief realizing that he's one of them.

"Oops, boobies!" Kurt jokingly says seeing how your bikini top rides up and almost exposing your breasts.

That's so childish coming from a grown man with a big body like him but Jeongin finds himself laughing at it without realizing it.

What people say is probably true, boys will always be boys.

Seeing that you're making your way back to the villa, the boys hurriedly sit on the lounger and act like they didn't just watch you swimming from afar like a bunch of creeps.

The boys make it obvious that they're talking about you as they turn quiet when you walk past them, brushing your wet hair to the back and heading back into the villa.

"Fuck me..." Damon sighs, his jaws hanging open as his eyes follow where you're going.

It's the beads of water running down your skin, the way your hips swing as you walk, your body... oh, Jeongin can think of so many things he could do to your body.

The sound of the door being shut behind you snaps him out of his daze. He hurriedly collects his senses and reels himself back to reality.

"Man, don't ever leave me alone with that girl or I'll turn into a bad cop," Mick jokingly says with an overwhelmed sigh.

The boys are laughing at that while Jeongin can only lightly chuckle as he sips his water again.

"Don't worry, mate. I'll always be around her," Keith says.

Everyone has been good for these past few days and it only takes one girl to make them fall back into old habits, proving that no one is really taking the retreat seriously.

Jeongin admits that he may have failed it too because now he regrets not kissing you yesterday.

-

JEONGIN: I don't know what it is about her that makes us all go wild [laughs]

-

There's a good chance that Justine feels threatened by your presence that you always see her around Jeongin. She's been by his side the whole day and making it hard for you to talk to Jeongin.

In the afternoon, the boys are out for a workshop and the day has gone without a result.

You decide to get your make-up done early so you'll have time to find Jeongin and if you're lucky, you can talk with him.

Francoise joins you not long after, sitting on the usual spot at the end of the vanity table.

"Hey, girl," she says, putting all of her hair to the back and tying it into a messy ponytail, "how are you?"

"Good, great," you answer without looking away from the mirror and once you're done filling your eyebrow, you look at her, "You?"

Francoise digs into her makeup purse to take her things out and lay them out on the table, "Good."

She starts by applying cream all over her face, then dabs the rest down her neck.

"Tell me all about the boys," she suddenly says.

"They're all attractive," you give an obvious answer just to be safe.

"Anyone you like?" She asks, now applying a different cream to her face.

Not sure if Francoise is merely curious or she has intentions of asking you that but you're not going to lie and say something just to please someone.

You sheepishly smile and give a moment for the setting spray you applied to dry, "There's one."

Francoise lowly gasps, "Oh, who is it?"

You catch that glint in her eyes that threatens you to not say the name of her current partner and she can relax because it's not Kurt.

"It's the uh..." you pause as you look for your brush, "The one I took on the date."

"Oh?" She gasps loudly this time, sensing what your answer could cause.

"He is with Justine though so... what are you going to do?" She asks, propping a hand under her chin and genuinely concerned for you.

"I caught him looking, you know, giving me the eyes," you tell her while putting everything back into your make-up pouch.

Francoise is getting so invested in the drama already that she stops doing her make-up to talk to you, "Is he your number one or..."

"Yeah," you shorty reply.

"But is there anyone you like besides him?" She asks again with the glints returning to her eyes.

You check your make-up once again in the mirror and then lean back on your chair, "Uhm... who's the English guy with the wavy hair?"

"Keith?"

"Yeah, Keith, I like clean, pretty boys like him," you openly share with a smile.

"Yeah, he's cute, a real English lad," she agrees with a giggle.

Your chatter dies down once Bianca and Justine enter the room and Francoise continues doing her make-up while you take it as your cue to get your move on.

-

YOU: If Jeongin wasn't giving me any signals he was interested, I wouldn't try but I need to find out exactly what's going on.

-

Justine may have said that Jeongin is free to get to know anyone but since you came, she feels the need to sink her claws deeper into him.

How is he going to get to know you better if she keeps him around all the time?

When he finally gets time for himself Jeongin grabs a glass of wine and chooses the firepit as the place to enjoy the drink.

Not long after, he hears footsteps coming his way, he's about to dread it thinking that it's Justine. Instead, he finds you walking toward him, looking stunning in a skin-tight dress that accentuates every curve in your body.

You stop in front of him, standing and looking at him with a sweet smile on your face, then you cutely ask, "Do you mind if I join you?"

How can he say now when you sweetly asked him like that? Jeongin swallows his drink fast then stifles a nod.

You slowly sit so close to him even though the sofa can fit five people in it, you tuck the strand of hair escaping your messy bun and smile at him.

You don't say anything for a good minute, just staring at him with a smile lingering on your face and Jeongin starts getting comfortable with the silence too.

It's when Jeongin stares back into your eyes, that you look away and let out a light chuckle.

"Last night, I watched how you guys were in bed and stuff, and a few times I caught you looking at me," you say.

That's not what he expects to hear you say when you start speaking to him but he can't deny that because that's true.

"I mean it's okay, it's more than fine but it gets me wondering," you pause to tuck another strand behind your ear.

He gets what you're saying even without having you explain it. You want to know if the looks he gave you mean something or not. Honestly, the reason he did that is because he's simply attracted to you, something about you keeps luring him to look at you and he doesn't know how to make it make sense to you.

"I'm still trying to figure out our connection and if it's leaning towards friendship or—"

You cut him off with a question, "But are you sexually attracted?"

That gets him gulping air, "To you?"

"Yeah."

Isn't it obvious? But you want to hear him admitting it out loud. However, Jeongin finds himself nervously chuckling instead of answering.

"It's not a friendship then," you say, taking his chuckle as a confirmation.

He's the one shyly smiling at you right now and about to fold under your hypnotizing eyes.

You shift on your seat, sitting with your body fully facing him, and say, "But would you say I'm in a position where I shouldn't try to pursue you at all or..."

You gently place your hand on his knee and tilt your head to the side as you continue your sentence, "Would you still like me to continue getting to know you?"

Strangely, that question is easy and hard to answer at the same time. Easy because he is indeed attracted to you and wants to explore this connection with you but he's aware that he could do the same with the connection he has with Justine, not to mention, that she's been with him since day one.

Not getting an answer from him, you make the question simpler for him, "Would you rather me keep trying or would you rather me fully close off?"

Jeongin is only afraid that he wants to be with you because you're this exciting new girl and choosing you means that he throws away what he has with Justine.

But does he want you to fully close off on him?

"I don't think you should fully close off," he mutters then slowly exhales air.

"So it's a yes?" You demand to hear a verbal answer this time.

He yet again responds with a sheepish smile and you have to conclude yourself.

"It's a yes," you confidently remark, giving yourself the answer that you know is true.

-

JEONGIN: I really want to behave but she's making me hot and flustered. She's so tempting [groans]

-

All the attention you receive from the boys and these jealous eyes you get from the girls, they're nothing new to you.

It's not your fault that these boys are crowding around you, you're this shiny new thing and they're curious about you. You guess it's because you offer something different than most girls in here.

One guy in particular has his eyes on you all the time, Keith. He keeps standing on the side of the sofa instead of sitting on it.

"Get comfortable, babe, I don't bite," you playfully say, patting the space next to you.

He cracks a crips laugh, showcasing his perfect teeth at you, then hesitantly sits down.

"I don't think we talked before?"

Keith looks stunned that it takes him a moment to process such a simple question, "Yeah," he answers.

"Keith, right?" You ask just to be sure, sipping on your wine while at it.

"Yes," he excitedly answers.

On the outside, Keith is this tall man with a built body and effortless hair but what you see in him is this big golden retriever and you can imagine his tail is wagging as he speaks to you.

"So Keith, tell me what your hobbies are. What are you into?"

"Uh... travel? I like traveling a lot," he answers, getting a bit serious now.

"What do you like to do when you travel?"

"A lot of things. I'm an adrenaline junkie, surfing, snowboarding, bungee jumping..."

"Oh? I never tried bungee jumping before," you share, then take a sip of your wine.

"You should. It's really fun," he says, brushing his hair to the back with his hand.

You lick your lips before speaking, "Then we should do it together next time."

That gets him blushing and then cracks a laugh, "I'd love that."

You bring your glass close to his and clink it with his, "That's a deal!"

Keith is smiling ear to ear and you can hear the excitement in his voice as he speaks, there's nothing cuter than seeing a guy fawning over you.

"You're really beautiful," he blurts out and looks like he didn't mean to say it out loud.

You smile at that and tilt your head to the side, "Am I?"

"You're absolutely gorgeous," he emphasizes every word.

"Aw, thank you," you coo at him.

You're liking what you get from him, the attention and the soft gaze, but it's a bit disappointing that you don't get it from the guy you like.

On the good side, now you know where to go if Jeongin decides not to reciprocate.

All of a sudden, the cone in the corner of the room chimes and orders everyone to go to the cabana.

This will be your first time experiencing this session with Lana in the cabana so you don't get why everyone's mood instantly changes once everyone is seated on the sofa.

-

YOU: I don't know why everyone acts like somebody just died like... what's going on? It's just Lana.

-

Everyone gets tense when the cone chimes and then it suddenly turns quiet in the cabana. You don't know what's the drill here but your eyes are glancing side to side, looking at everyone's faces that show almost the same groggy expression.

"What's up, Lana?" Justine asks since no one is saying anything.

"I regret to inform you there has been a breach of the rules," Lana announces.

Someone messed up and Lana is about to out them, now you get why they're so nervous. You're scanning the faces to spot the guilty ones.

"Who's been bad?" Linda says with an accusing tone.

Your head is turning to see if anyone raises their hand or does whatever it is when they're trying to confess their rule break. However, everyone stays tight-lipped and acts innocent.

"Why are you so silent? You need to speak up!" Mick says, a bit too aggressive.

You look around again to see if someone falters at Mick's angry remarks and then notice the sly grin on Damon's face. You're not the only one noticing it, Mick glares at him and sighs.

"Not funny, man," Mick says, looking disappointed and fed-up.

Damon grins again then scratches the back of his head, "Uhm... Bianca and I shared a kiss," he finally admits.

"Again?" Francoise's eyes widen in horror.

"Felt right in the moment to do so," Damon says, adding a nonchalant shrug in the end which only annoys everyone.

"What are you doing?" Linda sharply gasps, her small round eyes almost popping out of her sockets.

You watch as it turns into a whole argument in the cabana over something that isn't should be a problem: kissing someone.

This time, Courtney asks the most important question of all, "You guys kissed and that's it, right?"

Her question only puts more pressure on both Damon and Bianca that either of them hesitate to tell the truth.

"A little something–something else happened last night," he meekly says after a while.

Lana decides to take control of the situation and reveals the rule breaks to everyone, "Last night, Damon and Bianca kissed multiple times but that is not all they did."

Next to you, Keith is constantly sighing and then lowly muttering, "Oh, come on..."

"They also engaged in prolonged, mutual gratification," Lana further reveals.

No wonder Damon and Bianca are so afraid to come forward, Lana basically tells the whole group that Damon and Bianca gave each other a hand job. You don't have any problems with the rule breaks but being exposed for the things you did, that's crazy.

"What even is that?" Linda asks in utter confusion.

Everyone is way too disappointed or too busy groaning in complaint to even answer her question.

"Damon and Bianca, your multiple kisses have cost the group $18,000," Lana informs.

Does that mean 6 grand for a kiss? Okay, now you see that should be a problem.

"Your prolonged, mutual gratification has cost the group a further $30,000."

Your jaws drop open hearing how much money have lost for some hand jobs under the cover at night.

"In total, these rule breaks have cost $48,000," Lana delivers the final bill.

"I'm speechless," Courtney says, planting her head in her hands.

It turns quiet again while the tension keeps building and animosity fills the air, making you afraid to even take a breath.

"The prize fund now stands at $128,000."

-

YOU: It's gone from bad to worse in a second.

-

What Jeongin is hearing is bad news after bad news and it's coming from one couple doing the same thing again and again which pissed him off.

They knew the consequences of their actions yet they chose to keep doing it and what do you call that? Selfish.

"Damon and Bianca, I asked you to respect my rules but instead of working on building a deeper more meaningful connection, you have continued to show signs that you may not be here for the right reason."

At this point, they deserve what's coming for them and he wouldn't be surprised if Lana decided to kick them out of the retreat.

"Therefore, I'm setting you the ultimate test," Lana announces.

"Damn..." Damon curses, holding the sides of his head in distress.

Jeongin doesn't know why Lana bothers to put them on a test, isn't it obvious that they're going to fail?

"To see if you adhere to my retreat rules under the most trying of circumstances."

Oh, no, wait. Lana, please don't say that—

"You will spend the night alone in the private suite."

-

JEONGIN: Lana, you're making a huge mistake.

-

This is going to be bad.

Jeongin thinks that everyone else agrees with him with how many groans and moans echo in the room. They broke the rules when everyone else in the room with them so what makes him think that they won't do anything when they're left alone?

"We're screwed," Linda meekly says.

"Just great," Justine mutters with an insinuating tone.

Damon looks at everyone and tries to convince everyone that he won't break any more rules.

"I'll be good, guys. I promise I won't spend any money," he says with a not-so-convincing facial expression.

Maybe Jeongin can give Damon the benefit of the doubt but when he looks at Bianca, she's just suppressing her laughs like it's just a joke to her.

"Bianca, you're not saying anything it's a bit worrying," Keith says, speaking everyone's concerns out loud.

Bianca only laughs harder at that, she covers her face with her hands and tries to contain her laughter. How can anyone believe her when she acts like this?

She then clears her throat and tries so hard to put on a serious face, "I won't break rules," she says.

Francoise shakes her head in disbelief, also not buying her statement when they sound like they're merely words.

"Please make your way to the private suite," Lana instructs both Damon and Bianca.

If there's one type of person that Jeongin hates in the world is the one who can't keep their word.

-

JEONGIN: Let's hope that Damon and Bianca keep their promise.

-

"Morning," Kurt sleepily greets everyone as soon as he wakes up.

"Morning," Courtney also greets from her bed, twisting her hair and securing it with a hair claw.

The moment everyone wakes up from their beds, the attention is on the empty bed at the end of the room which belongs to Damon and Bianca.

"What did you think Damon and Bianca did last night?" Mick asks, not sure who he's asking but everyone is not ready for that.

"Could be a lot of things," Lou mindlessly answers.

Hearing his answer, you snort as you sip your water next to him.

"It's a hell of a lot of money," Linda sighs with her eyes blank and heavy with sleep.

"I think if they broke the rules, that would be so disrespectful of them," Francoise says, clutching the duvet on her knees.

"Yeah," Kurt nods in agreement next to her.

While everyone else is busy thinking about whether Damon and Bianca break the rules or not. You're busy watching the bed across from yours, at Justine who has her head rested on Jeongin's shoulder and digs her long nails into his arm.

Ugh! You can't stand waking up and seeing Justine all over Jeongin. You have to do something about it.

-

YOU: Today, it is my mission to make it happen. It should be me on that bed.

-

No one wants to deal with Lana first thing in the morning and even worse is to deal with a potential financial loss.

The fact that Damon and Bianca take so long to get out of the private suite only makes everyone uneasy with each passing minute.

"Here they come," Courtney says, spotting Damon and Bianca making their way to the cabana.

Linda looks away after seeing them then slumps on the sofa next to you, "Oh, no. They're looking guilty," she meekly mutters.

It's eerily quiet even after Damon and Bianca take seats on the small sofa on one side of the room. People are trying to get clues on what happened in that suite from the looks on their faces and it's concerning.

"Have anything to say?" Mick asks them.

Looking at Damon and Bianca and how they avoid everyone's eyes only assures you that you're right to prepare yourself for the worst.

"Let's hear what Lana says," Damon says, losing that usual smug on his face this morning.

Lana shortly chimes and everyone gets quiet to hear her talk, "Last night, I gave Damon and Bianca a test to see if they could adhere to my rules while alone in a suite."

"Did they do it or did they not?" Justine impatiently asks.

Mick looks at the two again with blank, hopeless eyes, "I hope you guys don't let me down," he says.

Lana continues with her announcement, "Additionally, there's something I did not tell any of you."

Not only for them, that one catches everyone off guard, and with Lana, we never know what's going to happen.

"After numerous rule breaks, I wanted to know how committed Damon and Bianca were to my process. That's why if they failed to adhere to my rules in the suite, proving they're not here for the right reasons."

Damon and Bianca's faces turn to panic at the unknown terms of the test that Lana has only revealed now.

"And I will be sending them home."

-

YOU: Damn! Lana is not messing about.

-

The question is did they break the rules?

Jeongin looks around and everyone is just as nervous as him. Justine is fiddling with her nails next to him, Linda covers both of her ears not wanting to hear anything, and Mick has his head in his hands.

It's not just about the money, Lana will be kicking them out of the retreat if they break even a single rule and Jeongin feels a little faint, getting the feeling that they will be going home.

"I must tell the group that..."

And Lana dragging the suspense isn't doing everyone a favor.

"Damon and Bianca did..."

Jeongin lets out a sigh but his chest keeps tightening in every passing second.

"... not break any rules."

Cheers and applause erupt in the room, everyone shooting up from their seats and going at Damon and Bianca. When he thinks about it, it's funny that everyone is celebrating people for not having sex yet Jeongin joins the celebration.

"Bianca, girl, I am proud of you," Justine says as she hugs her.

When everyone has settled down, Damon and Bianca can finally let out a big breath of relief and laugh everything off.

"It wasn't easy, you guys," Damon shares with a dramatic sigh.

"Oh, yeah. We almost folded," Bianca adds with a laugh.

"The prize fund still stands at $128,000," Lana concludes with an update on the money.

After a very thrilling session in the cabana, Jeongin chooses to hang out in the firepit and it doesn't come as a surprise that Justine follows him there.

He lays on the sofa and places a cushion behind his head, facing the swimming pool instead of the sea view while Justine sits on the end of the sofa.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" She asks, hugging a cushion on her lap.

"Yeah, it's so nice in here," he sighs.

Behind her, Jeongin sees you walking out of the villa and going to the sun lounger next to the pool. Instead of sitting on it, you slowly bend down to put suntan oil all over your legs and eventually, your hands are going to your backside to rub it on both of your ass cheeks.

It seems like you're doing it on purpose to get his attention and you know what? That works. Jeongin instantly stops listening to Justine's talk as he puts all of his focus on watching you standing there and touching your body all over.

You finally sit on the lounger and your eyes eventually meet his, you don't hesitate to wave your hand at him with a flirty smile on your face.

His hand somehow raises on its own to wave back at you, he can see himself foolishly smiling too without having to look all the while Justine continuously talking to him.

"I don't think that we should —" she abruptly stops talking as she notices his eyes are looking nowhere at her.

Jeongin quickly looks the other way and shifts his attention back to the girl sitting next to him, "Sorry What were you saying?"

However, Justine turns her head around to see who's been stealing his attention away. Her eyebrows knitted after seeing you sunbathing across the pool, in other words, she's not pleased.

-

JEONGIN: Oh, fuck! [Facepalms]

-

It's time.

Justine had enough time to get to know Jeongin and you had enough of waiting for Jeongin to make up his mind so let's not waste any more time being stuck in this love triangle.

Tonight, Jeongin has to choose between you or Justine because he can't have his cake and eat it too.

Justine has had his chance and now it's your time but she's been making it an unfair game, always clinging to Jeongin and giving you a hard time to find a chance to be alone with him so what you're going to do is play by her dirty rules.

While Justine is busy doing her make-up, you sneak out of the dressing room and easily locate Jeongin, because he always chooses the bathroom to get dressed.

You find him leaning against the sink half-naked, styling his hair while holding a tube of pomade in one hand and the crease between his eyebrows shows how focused he is at the moment.

What catches your attention is the milky skin, the toned muscles on his back, and the evident veins coiling down his arms, he gets you biting your lips at the sight of his back figure.

You quietly enter the bathroom and lean against the glass wall of the shower, looking at him through the mirror and putting on a smile. You hold that pose until he notices you.

You crack a soft laugh when he turns around to see you, "Hey, how's your day?"

Jeongin has one corner of his mouth rising higher than the other and curls into a half-smirk after taking a look at you from head to toe and flicks his eyes back to your face.

 "Good," he shortly answers.

You tilt your head to the side and keep your sly smile on, "Want to make it better?"

You can see Jeongin slowly catching up to your intention as the other corner of his mouth curls and forms a full smirk on his face. He shyly touches his ear and is unable to speak.

You look him in the eyes and seductively say, "Meet me at the beach in 10 minutes?"

After a while, Jeongin breaks the eye contact and lets out a shy smile. He doesn't know what to do with himself but holding the edge of the sink behind him.

You let the tension build by taking a step closer to him and then stopping right in front of him. In this proximity, you can see the glints in his eyes, flickering like fireworks.

Without waiting for his answer, you tell him, "I'll see you there."

-

YOU: It's time for me to make my move.

-

"Fuck!"

Jeongin quietly curses once you leave the bathroom, biting his fist to hold himself from cursing again. He has to actively tell his brain to calm down and continue dressing up if he wants to meet you there.

Regardless of who he wants, you deserve a chance to try and change his mind.

Jeongin walks through the dressing room to check if Justine is still there and she is, she is too busy doing her hair to even notice him making his way through the doorway and then out of the villa.

He doesn't know if ten minutes have passed or not but he's nervous, not wanting to make you wait long. He fixes his shirt as he walks down the path to the beach.

Squinting his eyes, Jeongin finds you sitting alone by the beach with your toes dug into the sand. Your hair is floating around with the soft gust of wind coming from the sea.

Sensing his arrival, you slowly turn your head to the side and smile the moment you see it's him.

Jeongin doesn't say anything but sits there on the sand with you, looking at the beach and how the water level recedes as the night gets late.

When he turns his head back at you, his eyes instantly meet yours.

"I feel like we need to have this chat 'cause I feel some type of way every time I see you with Justine in bed," you say.

You tuck the stray hair covering your face and put it away, "It should be us on that bed," you add.

It seems like you and he shares the same vice, you both are very straightforward, and he finds comfort in that.

"So what happened? Why am I not on your bed?" You ask with that head tilt you always do like a cat that asked to be pet.

"Because..." Jeongin's mind suddenly turns blank, he turns his head back to the sea like it would help him find the answer.

"Because Justine and I got it since day one," he finishes his answer with a safe one.

"But I'm here now," you tell him, your hand goes to the side of your head to keep your hair from being blown away.

"Then you came, yeah," he sighs and he doesn't know why, he feels like holding his breath when he's with you.

"And your head turned," You say with a flirty smile.

The way that you said it not as a question but a statement like you know for sure his head is turned... now that level of confidence is attractive.

"Obviously, you're a beautiful girl," he couldn't deny this and you know that it's true.

His head is indeed turned but that's not the problem here. He doesn't know if you've been ignoring it or completely don't care that he's currently with someone right now.

"But I'm with Justine," he remarks.

Your glossy lips curve into a smile and simply answer, "You think I care?"

So you don't care that he's with Justine or with someone else for that matter.

"I wouldn't take you here if I cared and you know what?" You tuck another strand of hair stuck to your lips, "You wouldn't come here too if you're not interested."

You really got him there that he has no reasons or excuses left in him to deny his liking towards you like it isn't obvious enough.

"I'm going to be honest," you say, shifting your body to face him and daringly staring into his eyes, "I know what I want, and what I want is you."

Oh, fuck, he curses inside his head.

Your confidence, your directness, your honesty, and your overflowing sex appeal, all of those things make you one dangerously alluring girl and it makes him even more nervous.

You prop your hand against the warm sand and ask him such a simple question, "So what are you going to do?"

-

JEONGIN: The eyes she's giving me right now are making me weak.

-

Even so, Jeongin can't answer that question. Not because he doesn't have the answer, but because he has so many things running through his head at the moment.

Getting no answer from him, you help him find the answer by suggesting a wild idea.

"How about we lose some money right now?"

That caught him off guard that his head snapped your way, "What?"

"A kiss," you lightly say like it doesn't cost $6,000 and potentially get burned at the stake by the group afterward.

The last time he did break a rule, it wasn't a nice experience and he certainly doesn't want to go through that again.

"Once we kissed and you don't feel any sort of feelings for me then... you can walk away," you devise a compromise with him.

Jeongin is interested in that idea. One kiss to see how connected he is with you, one kiss to know which one he should choose, and ultimately, one kiss that answers it all.

You don't wait for his answer and gesture him to get closer, "Come closer," you sweetly whisper as low as the soft gust of wind blowing his way.

Jeongin obeys without complaint, closing the gap between your bodies, and sits really close to you.

You reach for his jaw and hold the side of his face as you murmur, "You think I'd let you refuse my kiss again, huh?"

He opens his mouth to say something to that when your lips get ahead of him and shut his mouth with a kiss.

The way you passionately kiss him tells him how much you want him and it's arousing him that he finds himself returning your kiss as hard.

Jeongin doesn't really seek that spark but he feels that fluttering feeling, stirring and swirling, like a kaleidoscope of butterflies flying around in his stomach.

He opens his mouth to have you more and kisses you harder and deeper, his lungs start screaming for air. He lets the kiss continue for another moment before breaking the kiss and he can hear you gasp for air the moment he lets go of your lips.

"That was good," you say, licking your lower lip as if you seek the taste of the kiss that lingers there.

Jeongin sheepishly smiles and finds something to say to you that he knows is true.

"You're a good kisser," he compliments.

"I know," you coyly say.

That confidence never ceases to amaze him which assures him that the connection is there and it's getting deeper the more he knows you.

Aware of how dangerous things get, he draws a sharp breath through his mouth, "Oh, you put me in a predicament," he mutters.

On the contrary, you triumphantly smile because the kiss seems to have answered all of your questions yet you still come up with another one.

"So, see you in bed tonight?"

-

JEONGIN: I've got two beautiful girls making me feel a type of way. What am I going to do?

-

The night goes on but Jeongin can't tell which one he fears most: Lana reveals the kiss he did with you or Justine finding out about it.

Consider it his lucky day because Lana chooses not to spoil the rule break today and saves it for tomorrow. But that doesn't mean he has passed the hard thing, he still has to do the other hard thing.

Not telling Justine about the kiss would only make it worse so whether he likes it or not, Jeongin has to tell her about it as soon as possible.

He comes to the bedroom knowing that Justine is already there and yes, he's aware of the glare you aimed toward him right now as he sits on the edge of the bed.

Since Justine is talking with Courtney on the next bed, he reaches for her hand to get her attention.

"Can I talk to you?" He quietly mutters, trying not to draw any attention to both of them.

"Okay," Justine says.

Jeongin chooses the dressing room because it's the closest room, sitting on the empty chairs facing each other. This is his chance to tell him but he keeps retreating, not because he's scared but because he's aware of his bad habit of being so forthright with his words.

He takes a moment to carefully pick his words and exhales air before talking.

"Here's the shitty situation and it's going to make me sound like an absolute prick," he begins.

He tries not to look her in the eyes, afraid that it would make him keep retreating with his intention.

"But I'm going to be completely honest because it's the best way to be," he continues.

And he's right, Justine is already sensing that she wouldn't like what she's about to hear and starts making these wistful eyes at him.

However, Jeongin stands firm and reminds himself of what he needs to do here, "I can't lead two girls on and it's not fair."

He knows that he needs to soften the blow by telling her the reasons why to avoid her getting it all wrong. He arranges words in his head before saying them out loud.

"I like being with you, we've got a connection," he tells her, "But what I have with her—"

Justine cuts him off, "The new girl?"

It's unclear why she always addresses you as 'the new girl' but he's not going to mix that issue into this. He nods and continues talking, "I think the connection that I have with her is not worth giving up. I'm willing to give it a go."

The radiance on Justine's face gradually fades in each passing second like someone turns the brightness down. She looks down on her lap and fiddles with her nails, and he gives her a moment to process this.

"Did you guys... talk?" She meekly asks.

"Yes, and we uh..." he struggles to finish the sentence knowing that it'll be unpleasant for Justine.

But he has to, he promised to be honest so here it goes, "We kissed."

Once it's out, he feels so much lighter and he can confidently continue, "I feel something deeper with her."

Justine is lightly bobbing her head whether as a gesture that she accepts it as it is or she only does it to get things over with.

"Are you going to sleep with her?" She asks even though she wouldn't like the answer.

"Yes," Jeongin replies.

He understands well that it's a lot to take in and the fact that it's hard for him too proves that he does it out of care and mostly, out of respect for her.

He places his hand on her shoulder and slowly brings her close for a hug, it won't do much to comfort her since he's the one causing this inconvenience.

"Sorry for putting you in this situation," he murmurs his sincere apology.

But Justine chooses to accept her defeat in silence.

-

JEONGIN: I feel bad for being abrupt with Justine but it's the only way.

-

Is it just you or everyone else is also anticipating his return to the bedroom?

You saw Jeongin left with Justine and that means, they're having the talk right now. It's either about the kiss or the bed situation, or even both.

You're restlessly waiting on the bed thinking about who is he going to pick to be his bed partner. Is he going to stay with Justine or will he switch bed to be with you? 

Honestly, you hate losing but what you're going to hate more is seeing Justine all over Jeongin every day for the rest of the retreat, and you feel bitter just by imagining it.

The kiss not only assures him but also assures you that you want him and you want him to want you too.

You're hardly listening to the conversation going on in the room but you notice that everyone stops talking when Jeongin returns to the bedroom by himself.

He looks around the room and notices that everyone's attention is on him. The moment his eyes meet yours, your heart skips a beat.

While the conversation in the room continues at a lower volume than before, you quietly watch him walk to his usual bed with Justine and then sit on the edge with his back facing you.

He chose her, you mutter inside your head and your hopeful heart drops to your stomach, making you feel sick.

You look away, not wanting to keep watching how your endeavors turn into a major fail. You slump on the bed and pull your duvet, wanting to get this day over with.

It turns quiet again and you reckon it must be Justine coming into the room, you quickly shift your body to the side with your back facing the door.

Then you see Jeongin come and put his things on the bedside table. You glance up to see if it's really him and your heart inflates with hope again. You hurriedly get up from the bed to make space for him.

"Do you want to take this side or this side?" You ask, offering him which side of the bed he prefers.

"Doesn't matter," he answers.

You scoot to the side to make more space for him on the bed, throwing away the extra cushions onto the floor. You're too ecstatic with the fact that Jeongin chose you and you're not going to let all these judging looks everyone is giving you right now ruin it.

Jeongin settles himself next to you, getting under the cover and also ignoring all the curious eyes wanting to know what has just happened.

Lou notices that his role as your bed partner has been replaced and without saying anything, he goes to Jeongin's former bed to sleep with Justine by default.

"Sorry," you mouthed at him.

"It's okay," he mouthed back with a thumbs-up.

You put your attention back on the guy next to you and now that he's here, you suddenly feel awkward talking to him. You hesitantly reach for his hand resting on the space between you, you take it and put it on your lap. You've never seen such an attractive hand, it's big with long slender fingers but what catches your interest is the veins coiling down his arm.

You turn it over and put your hands together to compare the sizes, "it's bigger than mine."

Jeongin smiles at that and jokingly says, "Nah, your hand is too small."

You wrap your hand around his thumb and Gosh, that makes you wonder if he's big elsewhere too.

Using your index finger, you trail down the evident veins that go from his forearm to the back of his hand, and at the end, you turn his hand over and place your hand inside his hand.

"It's a bit rough there," he says.

It is rough but not the uncomfortable kind, "I like it."

You look at him and curiously ask, "Do you play instruments?" 

He looks down at the way your fingertips lightly rub his palm and answers, "I play piano."

"That explains why your hand is beautiful," you compliment him and you like how he gets all shy whenever you do that.

Jeongin touches his ear even though he can't do anything to hide his reddening ear but it makes you want to do more so you slip your fingers in between his and hold his hand.

The moment is interrupted by Justine's dramatic entrance to the bedroom, she glances your way and probably sees that Jeongin is already on your bed. She then goes to her bed and acts as if nothing happened.

And you're not going to let that ruin your happiness too.

-

YOU: You know what? All's fair in love and war [shrugs]

-

Last night, the two of you talked a little more before sleep, said goodnight to each other then turned away from each other.

However, when Jeongin wakes up in the morning, he finds himself spooning you and his arm is around you. He carefully retracts his hand away and accidentally wakes you up in the process.

You turn your head to look at him and sleepily smile, "Morning!"

Jeongin brushes his messy hair to the back and hoists himself up, "Morning," he says back.

You stretch your arms and legs out with your eyes screwed shut while making adorable noises like a kitten waking up from a nap. 

Jeongin grabs his water tumbler, taking a sip as he watches everyone else also getting up from their bed after the lights turned on.

"Morning, everyone!" Linda sweetly says while holding her tousled hair on the top of her head.

"Good morning!" Courtney beams from the other side of the room.

Even with his eyes still heavy with sleep, Mick takes his duty as a sex cop seriously by asking the important question.

"Did anyone break the rules?"

Jeongin has been considering of doing a different strategy, instead of keeping it until the last minute, he figures it's best to tell everyone about his rule break now.

He raises his hand and keeps it in the air until Mick notices, "We kissed last night," he simply admits.

Mick shoots him with a glare then sighs, "I kind of guessed you guys did," he says while scratching his shoulder.

It's probably too early for them to deal with it or that they knew from the moment he switched bed with you, they seem to let this one slide easily.

Jeongin can't believe that his strategy works.

"Anyone else?" Mick asks with eyes meticulously scanning the room.

All eyes are on the most spending couple in the retreat, Damon lets out a chuckle and scratches his head, "No, we didn't," he coyly denies.

Unlike Justine, you give him the space he needs and Jeongin can freely do what he wants. He starts his day by working out as usual and getting some breakfast after a shower. He doesn't see you until it's time to go to the cabana.

"Miss you," you cutely say with a delighted smile on your face.

Jeongin sheepishly smiles and lets you link your arm with his as he sits next to you.

As expected, the group doesn't say much about his rule break and takes the $6,000 deduction well. And also because, they're more curious about the gifts on the table.

"As you can see, I have a gift for you all," Lana finally addressed the small boxes that matched the number of guests in the retreat.

"The purpose of this gift is to help you learn how to be motivated by genuine feelings of connection, as opposed to lust," Lana further explains.

"So, we're making progress?" Kurt asks around.

"That's a good thing, yeah," Courtney agrees.

"You may now open your boxes," Lana orders.

Jeongin takes two and hands one to you, everyone is exclaiming almost at the same time when they find out what's inside: a watch.

"When I observe two people forming genuine connections, they will be given a green light, like this."

Lana demonstrates by turning everyone's watches chime and lights up in green which excites everyone.

"While your lights are green, retreat rules do not apply for a limited amount of time."

"For how long?" Damon asks.

"She said a limited amount of time," Justine answers with a sly grin thrown his way.

"With this green light, there will be no more spending money," Mick remarks in all seriousness.

Jeongin is not sure that the existence of these watches would stop these people from breaking the rules, especially those who can't wait for them.

"Now that you have the watches, if you do not abide by my rules, there will be severe consequences," Lana warns for the last time.

-

JEONGIN: I'm so happy to get this watch. Now I can focus on my connection with her.

-

While the girls are still getting ready, the boys are gathering in the firepit and Jeongin is there as a quiet listener to all the random talks going on all at once.

"I wonder how Lana is going to give these green lights," Kurt says while observing the watch around his wrist.

Rather than answering him, Keith comes up with a different question, "Who do you think is going to be the first one getting a green light?"

"I don't know," Lou sighs.

"Definitely not me," Damon jokingly says.

Jeongin always thought that if there's one couple more established than the other it's Damon and Bianca but hearing that makes him doubt it.

"It's Lana, she's not going to make it easy," Lou says, being the reasonable one among the bunch.

Jeongin strongly agrees with him so he nods and says, "Yeah, I think so too."

Kurt puts his foot down and leans forward, "But bro, if they go green, you can do anything," he says with bewildering eyes.

"Anything you want, yes," Lou emphasizes it for everyone, then sips his drink.

"I need to know how long though," Damon reclines on the sofa and spreads his arms out on the headrest of the sofa, "Like is it long enough for just a kiss or long enough for a quickie?"

Mick almost spits his drink when he hears it, "A quickie?"

Kurt foolishly grins and slaps Damon's knee, "That's what I was thinking."

Lou has his forehead wrinkled into a questioning look on his face, "How are you going to, like... shouldn't you get it up first, bro?"

"It turns green and you just go at it," Damon simply resolves.

Everyone bursts into laughter and there's no denying it anymore, boys will always be boys.

"How about you though?" Damon says to Jeongin.

"It's going to be tough for you, man," Keith says, grinning at him but in a way that hints he's both jealous and concerned for him.

It's indeed a little concerning and Jeongin has only shared the bed with you for one night, so far things are good but knowing you and your alluring charms, he gets that feeling again that it's only about time.

"How was it sharing a bed with her?" Kurt curiously asks.

"It was nice and fun, she's so friendly," Jeongin sincerely answers.

"Friendly, huh?" Damon says with a wink, taking his answer out of context.

"Let me know when you need to tap out," Keith jokingly says.

However, Jeongin knows that it's not a joke to him but there's a more important thing than kissing and that is getting a green light with you.

-

JEONGIN: All I want to do is kiss her so I'm going to try and get a green light.

-

It's going to be a good night, you can feel it.

You feel good in your dress, you feel good when you check your appearance in the mirror and you feel exceptionally good about yourself.

It feels even better now that you have someone to share this feeling with.

"You look nice," you compliment him.

He's indeed looking nice in a simple outfit of blue jeans and a white shirt, but he knows how to make such a basic look work.

That's another thing you like about him, he has this impeccable way of dressing and it shows.

"I like your shirt," you say.

The short sleeves of his shirt showcase his bulging biceps as he stretches it on the sofa.

"Thank you," he sweetly says with a smile.

You poke his dimple before it disappears and compliment again, "I like your dimples too."

He cracks a laugh this time and watches you lift your arm in the air, shaking your hand.

"I think it's not catching any signals," you playfully say.

Jeongin breaks into another wave of laughter and brings your hand down, "Do you think by complimenting me you'll get a green light?"

"Mm-hm," you innocently nod.

He lightly shakes his head and drains his glass of wine, "I think Lana won't fall for that," he says.

Everyone else is there and can see what you're doing so you can't do much but put your legs on his lap and your arm across his chest.

"And you don't have any compliments for me?" You ask, batting your eyelashes at him.

He puts away his empty glass and looks at you, "I think you look gorgeous," he says.

"You think?" You pout to show your displease.

"You are gorgeous," he corrected his earlier remarks.

"What else?" You demand more compliments while maintaining eye contact with him.

"Hmm..." he cutely purses his lips as he thinks, "I like your dress."

"Okay, what else?" You demand more.

Jeongin looks at you from head to toe to find something to compliment, he places his hand on your shin as he says, "I like your shoes."

You playfully kick your feet in the air to show off your laced-up heels to him, "Cute, right?"

He slides his hand down to your ankle and you like seeing his hand on you, "They're cute," he agrees.

"They kind of painful to wear though," you share with a pout.

You've been finding a way to be alone with him and blatantly doing it would spoil it but now, you have found an excuse you can use.

"I need to change my shoes," You slowly get up from the sofa and offer your hands to him.

He does nothing but look at your hands, then at you.

"Come with me!" You say, taking his hands and dragging him with you to the dressing room.

Once you're there, you take off your shoes and put them under your closet. Not giving him time to escape, you grab him by the elbow and lead him to sit on the chair.

"We're going to stay here for a minute," you tell him, sitting sideways on his lap to not let him get away.

Jeongin clearly catches up to your intention, it's not about the shoes, it's you wanting to get him alone with you.

"What if someone comes in?" He asks.

You laugh at that and simply respond, "But we're not doing anything."

"You're doing things here," he says to you with a knowing smile.

You rest your hand on his chest to hold him down, "We're not going to do anything you don't want," you assure him.

-

YOU: Jeongin is so hot and I just want to rip his clothes off [chuckles]

-

As you stare at his face, you get reminded of how you saw him in a picture when they told you to pick one to get on a date. But you know what? The picture doesn't do him justice.

Jeongin is much more beautiful in real life. He has a pair of eyes like a fox, angular jaws, a sharp nose, and plump lips that get you biting your lips, tantalizing you to feel how soft they are.

You place your hand on his chest and lovingly gaze into his eyes, deciding to continue your train of compliments for him.

"You're so handsome."

He has all these masculine features on him but when he smiles, it softens all of the edges and he turns into this cute guy with a warm smile.

"Thank you," he calmly replies.

You put your hand around his shoulder and the other hand is feeling the toned muscles through his shirt.

"You're so hot," you seductively say.

"Thank you," he shortly responds.

You know compliments won't get you far so you take a bold move and run your hand through the nape of his neck. Jeongin shivers when you do that and that gives away the fact that his neck must be one of the sensitive parts of his body.

You gently tug at the hair on the back of his hair and at once, you pull his head to the back, sending him looking up at you.

You tantalize him with your lips, dragging them down his jawline before placing a kiss on the skin behind his ear. You feel his hand on your waist, gripping the fabric of your dress.

You smile knowing that you get him good and continue the trail of kisses down the column of his neck. This time his other hand grabs at your thigh but doesn't go higher above the knee.

"I know you want this," you whisper at him.

"But we can't," he hisses.

Feeling mischievous, you take a playful bite at his ear and a breathless moan slips out of his parted mouth. He grabs at your thigh again and you can feel his nails digging into the flesh.

"I can't promise I'm not going to try and break any rules tonight," you tell him.

Sooner or later, you both will break a rule, it's inevitable, not with this much sexual chemistry you have between you.

"We just got the watches," he reminds you.

But his arm is tightening around you and his other hand is inching closer to the hem of your dress.

You kiss him on the neck again and softly whine into his ear as a way to complain to him, "It's going to take a long time though."

"We don't want to risk getting kicked out, mmh?"

Jeongin is the most reasonable one out of the two of you but that means the chance to break rules stays at fifty percent.

-

YOU: Obviously, I want to get a green light but talking about feelings, it's just a bit... [cringes]

-

Jeongin should consider that he has passed one of the hardest tests in retreat so far.

You should trust him when he says it takes everything in him not to fold when you sweetly ask for a kiss and he won't give it to you. It even surprised him how much he restrained himself from temptations.

And even though it's bedtime, Jeongin remains cautious.

You're the last to join him on the bed and stay quiet as you climb onto the bed. That gets him wondering if you're mad about him refusing to rule break with you.

As you sit on the bed next to him and apply hand cream on your hands, he reaches for your head and softly gives your hair a ruffle.

"What took you so long?" He carefully asks.

You slowly turn around on the bed and look at him, "I chatted with Keith for a bit," you answer.

His eyes hover on the hunky guy occupying the bed at the end of the room and silently boring a hole in between his eyes with his laser eyes.

He knows Keith won't give you up that easily.

"Goodnight, beautiful people!" Courtney mutters as the lights are off.

You pull the duvet up to your chest and peck him on the cheek as a goodnight kiss.

"Night," you mutter before turning on your side of the bed and giving your back to him.

Jeongin is not the kind of person who holds grudges over something or someone, but he hates to go to sleep with this tugging feeling at his chest.

He puts his arm around you and pulls you close until your back meets his chest. He can hear you smiling without having to look at it.

Jeongin can let out a sigh of relief and when he inhales air, he can smell the sweet scent of your shampoo clinging to your hair.

"You smell so good," he murmurs at you.

"Thank you," you murmur back.

You start rubbing your hand up and down his arm in a fluttering way that makes him tingle inside. You bring his hand close to your mouth and kiss it.

Jeongin buries his nose in your neck and kisses you there, he can feel how soft your skin is as he places little kisses down your bare shoulder.

"You're so soft," he compliments again.

"Thank you," you mutter in a giggly tone.

-

JEONGIN: We've only just got our watches, but I'm really struggling to not break the rules right now.

-

The next thing he knows, he has your body molded against him until there's no gap left between your bodies.

He lets his hand freely explore your clothed body, feeling every curve of it and picturing it in his head as he goes. He stops when he meets the skin he can touch, feeling how soft it is under his fingertips.

"Mmh... so soft," he delightfully hums.

He continues the exploration and turns to the side where he rests his hand on the curve of your hips, he rubs the skin in circular motions before sliding it down the side of your thigh.

"You're so soft all over," he whispers with his hot breath fanning your neck.

You turn around on the bed and lying on your side facing him, you lift your head to place his arm under and use it as your pillow.

Then you slip your arm under and pull him close, letting his body eclipse yours. This way, he can feel your body against him, your body heat, your softness, your curves and edges, just you under him.

Jeongin uses this as an opportunity to get back at you, doing what you did to him, kissing your neck and nibbling at your ear.

As Jeongin switches to the other neck, you whisper to him, "Everyone is sleeping."

From the quiet and stillness that hangs in the room, Jeongin can confirm that everyone else is already sleeping but that's not the problem here.

He lifts his head and props his elbow against the mattress, he looks at your face under the low light of the sleep lamp. And honestly, teasing you has been making him horny too and he can't resist it anymore.

Slowly, Jeongin places his lips on yours and quietly makes out with you as you pull the duvet to cover both of you.

The kiss is so good that he keeps kissing you and you keep giving it to him, opening your mouth for him so he can taste more of you.

You keep things interesting either by biting his lips or twirling your tongue with him in between kisses and Gosh, he loves every bit of it.

Fuck money, it's worth more than that.

Jeongin is so fully immersed in the kiss that he doesn't notice your hand that goes down to the waistband of his boxer, tugging at it to find access inside.

He forces himself to pull away from the kiss to say, "You can't do that, baby?"

You slyly smile and boldly say, "Why don't you try and stop me?"

You waste not another second to slip your hand inside his boxer and instead of stopping you, Jeongin lays back on his side of the bed and closes his eyes as he feels your hand wrapped around his length.

-

JEONGIN: A part of me just thinks "fuck it" [laughs]

- 

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[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  6 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: "the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." - oscar wilde

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5| chapter 6

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

Despite what happened, you would have done anything to face Father Sylus again. 

He was the type of person who radiated energy from within, dedication unlike anyone you had ever met - which could be a good or a bad thing. The thoughts became an obsession, all that seemed to fill your brain. The recollection of his touch made you sweat. It was the last thing you thought about before drifting off to sleep, the first thing you thought about when you woke, and the next few days stretched.  One thing was sure: you longed to see him again, if only for the courage to apologize.  But did you even have to apologize? He was the one who had kissed you first, right?  It was so unbelievably confusing. You’d talk yourself through circles; for once, no amount of sleeping seemed to help.  You weren’t even given the option to sleep it all off anyway or mellow properly in your self-pity. Upon learning of your ‘arrest’ from Talia, your father forced you out of the house that Sunday to go to church with him.  “What’s going on with you, Y/N?” Dad raised his eyebrows and frowned as he gripped the steering wheel, and you could tell he was trying hard not to get angry or frustrated. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, hon. You came back, and you’re acting weird.  Can you just tell me what’s wrong?”  Shaking your head, you shrugged, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact on the door handle, ignoring your dad’s question and wishing he’d just leave you alone.  “You went from being happy to totally distraught since you moved out. What am I supposed to think here, huh?”  ‘Maybe everything went to total fucking shit,’ was what you wanted to say, and tried not to roll your eyes. Dad tried so hard to not act like the authoritarian or pushy father, especially after your mother had died. He was never like that. And it was because of that you figured it was time to be at least a little truthful.  “I quit my job. I don’t know what I’m going to do from here, but -” you said, “I just…needed some time to think things through.”  Your dad parked the car and turned to offer you a subtle smile. You were convincing enough, obviously. “Okay, fine. Work in the store until you figure it out. It’ll be like old times.” One hand gripped the steering wheel as he looked at you, almost seeming to peer into your brain as his eyes flicked ever so slightly. “So, uh, is this about your mom? I didn’t know you were still upset about that. I should’ve tried to talk to you more.”  You bit down your reply, feeling a bitter taste in the back of your throat, and willing it away.  “No, it isn’t. Just forget about it.”  A long sigh filled the small space as your father pressed his lips together. “Christ, I can’t be mad at you right now. I’ve always let you do what you want.”  This was strange, a particular ache settling inside and spreading to your limbs like an infection. Maybe it wouldn’t stop now that it had started. And the first instinct was to get away and run. Run and run and just get away.  “Hon, Y/N,” Your Dad’s voice was pleading, and you nearly missed it. “We can go talk to -”  “No!” You blurted, immediately regretting it, mortified at just the thought. How did you speak so fast? “No, it’s fine. Let’s just go inside. We’re gonna be late.”

You didn’t feel any better inside the church, but you weren’t expecting much to begin with. All you could do was suck it up and seat yourself beside your dad. It wasn’t crowded, but there were a few unfamiliar faces, so maybe not everyone would notice your fucked up mood. 

Everything felt surreal. You were sitting there in church with the sun streaming through the stained glass windows, and your gaze landed on the one depicting the Virgin Mary.

The word ethereal came to mind. 

Everything seemed like it would evaporate into thin air. Like if you moved too quickly, you’d wake up from one of those dreams that just turned out to be inside of another dream. 

And when a hush fell over the congregation, you had no choice but to look forward. No matter how your brain fizzes or your fingers tingle. You were forced to look at that handsome face in front of the church and feel the emotion well inside you. Something that felt different than embarrassment or frustration. 

Even from this distance, Father Sylus exudes that particular aura, daring to fill the whole church with its strength. You are once again reminded of how inescapable his presence is—not through belief or goodness, but something, someone who felt unearthly, even celestial, as absurd as it felt. 

Ethereal. Once again, with that pretty word. How could you even begin to explain it? It was so easy to feel some sort of bitterness, perhaps even selfishness. Who could blame you? Everything always seemed too simple when you looked at it from a distance. 

“Good morning,” He began, his voice taking on that strangely powerful, lilting cadence. He paused, hands clasping, and his posture was different. Shoulders broad, spine straight, chin lifted slightly. “I want to take a moment before we begin to discuss why we’re here.” 

You were drawn to his words, which had formed an invisible link to you. Maybe if you closed your eyes like you did at night, you could picture that night in the car. It felt foolish because you were certain your own thoughts were desperate. How stupid did it make you seem, trying to replay the sensation? A stupid crush. That is all you wanted it to amount to, even if looking into his fiery gaze had made you feel like you were melting.

“We’re here, in the house of the Lord. Why is this?” 

If a month’s insistence on chasing after a flame could be compared to anything -

 “Free will.” His tone picked up. “Through our actions, we make conscious decisions. As far as humankind is concerned, free will also makes us human.” 

Your breathing stilled. Something terrible seized your gut, a cramping feeling causing you to grit your teeth. 

“This is a sanctified place,” he continued, voice rich and filled with energy. “Within these walls, you should experience peace. Not conflict or anger. All are free here because it is with our actions that we build ourselves.”

How the hell did he manage this? The words continued spilling from his mouth, something pulling you further. And after a pause, his gaze filtered over the room again - and landed on you. 

Time was beginning to stand still, and you swore your face began to heat up. But, thankfully, the look didn’t linger on you, moving on as he cleared his throat. 

Well, fuck. 

There was only a tiny shift in expression, and perhaps you were the only one to notice how his pause seemed more lengthy than those before it. 

"We - uh.” Father Sylus made a show of glancing down at the notes before him and shuffling a few pages. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat again, a little louder this time. “What I mean to say is, with free will, we struggle against our urges and temptations. Sin beckons - uh,” another loud cough. He looked nervous. Vulnerable. In more ways than one. 

Father Sylus hastily pushed aside the pages, shoulders lifting in a deep breath before looking again at the people gathered. He straightened a little, and his powerful tone returned as he folded his hands neatly. “So, how do we resist? It can be hard to…admit one’s faults.” He let out a little huff of air, glancing down again. Then, he stepped away from the podium, stepping along the carpeted dais, hands clasped behind his back and thumbs tapping against each other. 

The congregation started shifting. A glance here and there, unable to guess what he would say next. Probably wondering why their priest was acting so…off. If you weren’t glued to your seat in, well, any number of the emotions you were feeling now - you would have high-tailed it out of there already. But instead, you were frozen in place, feeling like an outsider, feeling the shift in the air more than the others around you. 

“Take those feelings and multiply them by ten.” He stated, looking towards the back of the church at nothing in particular. It was as if he was somewhere only his mind knew. 

“Opportunity is often just an invitation to sin, yes. Free will is a man’s greatest power but also his biggest weakness. With that power comes responsibility. Satan doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns in the middle of the night.” 

Oh God.

 There was a tense pause and stillness, and you wonder how you managed to sit here and listen. Those crimson eyes trailed around the room, but for another second, a brief and terrifying second, they burned into you.

“Satan comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.” He laughed, bitter and slightly hoarse. Then his eyes snapped forward again, unabashed. 

He coughed, cleared his throat again, and gestured with a finger above his head. “We all - well, we all think we can overcome any challenge. Big or small. Big and small.” Father Sylus let out a shaky exhale. “Um, the point is...The point is that the devil is ready to collect when you can’t. So, the point is that - uh,” His tone shifted to something smaller that made your insides tremble agonizingly. A breathless, tight sort of anxiousness that stole through your lungs and caused your heart rate to increase. It was impossible to deny that despite the words coming out of his mouth, you actually wanted to hear him continue. “Um, sometimes I think the hardest thing is that we are human, and we are weak.” 

Before he could even continue, his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed, grimacing, an anguish that you recognized. “Excuse me.” He looked like he might break, the wavering tension almost stifling the room, his expression almost tormented. 

“I’m sorry. Excuse me.” And with that, he disappeared into the back, leaving everyone shocked. 

Everyone except for you. 

“And that’s why I’m never going to church again.” You rolled your eyes as you leaned against one of the shelves in your dad’s store, looking over at Rafayel, who was leaning against the counter, making it his personal mission to get every last drop out of an iced coffee. “You should have seen the look on his face. What a fuck up.” 

Rafayel wrinkled his nose, looked around the otherwise empty store, and then glanced at his phone. “Yikes. Poor guy.” He sighed and tapped his foot on the floor. “Talia came home and said he had a migraine - but it’s even more hilarious that a near-public breakdown was because of you.” 

“My God, you are awful.” You frowned and stepped forward to lightly punch his arm, reaching out and catching his elbow with a grimace as he pretended to almost fall over. “That’s a horrible thing to say! You were the one who was practically encouraging me!” 

“I would never,” Rafayel huffed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Anyway, it’s been almost a week now. You’re gonna have to suck it up and face him sooner or later.” With a firm nod, he shook off your hold and dusted his hand on the faded denim of his jeans, turning his attention back to his phone and shaking the ice in the cup he held. 

“How would I do that?” You asked. 

As if oblivious, Rafayel arched a brow and smiled tightly, peering at you over the edge of his phone. His tone was less-than-reassuring, sounding almost pitying. “No fucking idea.” 

You opened your mouth to argue but thought better of it as the shop door opened, just in time for the chilly afternoon to bring in your dad and Xavier. You took a deep breath at the sound of the bell and forced yourself to calm down.

As if on cue, Rafayel pushed himself away from the counter and looked in your direction. “Well, Y/N.” He said, tossing a wink in your direction that made you want to reach out and knock the silly grin off his face. “Good luck.” With that, he turned and walked out of the store with a shake of his head. 

Your dad mumbled something under his breath before tossing a wave a little too late and heading into the back of the small building. 

Unease had settled in your stomach at your friend's departure. You felt as if you had more to say, ask, or get a general idea of as you stared at the shop's door. You ran a hand over your tired face and sighed. 

“Hi,” Xavier gave you a careful, controlled smile as you turned toward his voice. “Need help with anything?” 

You tried your best not to fidget or bite your lip. “No, but it’s nice of you to offer.” You shrugged and glanced away briefly. “Why? Got nothing else to do?” 

“Uh, I work here?” He blinked as he stepped forward. You could take in his softening facial features now that he was closer. His smile didn’t quite fade as he looked around the quiet shop. “Anyway - I um. I tried to call you last night? About dinner?” 

Tilting your head in confusion, you froze. Then, you processed the sentence. 

Dinner. Shit. 

“Oh! My phone went missing. I’m sure it’ll turn up soon or something. Wasn’t the nicest phone anyways,” you brushed some hair behind your ear. “I still can’t figure out how it disappeared!” You forced a laugh at your lie and shifted uncomfortably.

You’d completely forgotten about agreeing to go out with him. How fucking stupid were you? So caught up in the idea of -

“Well, uh, I didn’t plan much. So it’s okay, we can just do something another night. Right?” Xavier suggested, and you couldn’t tell if he had let it go so quickly or was suspicious about your behavior. 

Either way, you smiled, rationalizing with yourself for what felt like the millionth time that spending time with him would be a good thing. Any way to keep your mind distracted. Clearly, he still wanted to go out with you, and you certainly wouldn’t say no. After all, who could blame you for latching on anyone who showed the slightest interest? 

This would be a step in the right direction, right? Things would get better. They had to. No matter how weird it felt for you to think so. 

“That’s fine. Sorry, my head’s all over the place.” 

The worst part of it all was the sudden weight in your stomach, the ache in your chest that was becoming all too tiring. Something pushed you in the complete opposite direction of the young man in front of you, towards what you really wanted, and had no explanation for why you did. 

“Y/N?” Xavier spoke again and stepped closer, watching your expression with careful scrutiny, his hand reaching out to touch yours, giving you a new feeling of unease. “Hey, um, - you alright?” 

Your heart wrenched a little at the worry, and you wondered exactly how pathetic you appeared. “I think so. Can you take over? I gotta step out for a while.”

It grew colder as you walked along the sidewalk, sticking your hands inside your jacket pockets. Clouds gathered in the distance, inching their way towards the suburb. The air smelled fresher, as if it might snow lightly sometime at night. A breeze swept over the street, stirring pieces of your hair from its confines, and you briefly thought you should have remembered your scarf. 

Then, you came to a stop in front of the church. 

You looked down at your outfit, the jeans and the oversized blue sweater you had found in your mom's closet, when you couldn’t be bothered to do your own laundry. Perhaps she would give you strength, or at least enough willpower from wherever she was to give you the courage to turn right the fuck around and go back home.  She was always straightforward in that way, even without the drinking. If only you had taken after her in that aspect. 

For a moment, you almost turned to leave, giving yourself the opportunity to simply walk away and go home. However, after a few seconds of mental debate, you stepped along the worn walkway and up the steps, slipping your hand out of your pocket to place it on the worn wooden door. 

Somewhere in your mind was a glimmer of hope, the possibility of resolve.

Now that you had gathered whatever courage you had left, you took one last, bracing breath before pushing the door open. A jolt of energy speared up your arms, a buzzing sensation against your fingertips. Once you were inside, everything felt eerily silent. Almost too silent. But as the familiar warmth enveloped you, your body relaxed slightly as you shrugged off your jacket. 

The last light from the day was casting through the windows, and the interior was a muted, golden glow and soft orange. It felt warm in more ways than one. Despite the hushed nature of the building, energy thrummed within you. The atmosphere was inviting, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite muster the ability to step forward any further, feet stuck to the floor beneath you. It was ironic, yet in a way, expected; you felt like crying or throwing something, but maybe punching Father Sylus would give you the most satisfaction. 

The chapel seemed alien to you as you made your way further inside. 

Loneliness was all-consuming, a fear ever present and threatening in the back of your mind. You wondered why it hurt so much. And, you considered whether you have ever experienced a real connection in your life. You zeroed in on the cross beyond the rows of pews as if you could use it for answers. It glinted a little in the evening light that filtered through the stained glass. Your eyes felt dry as they fixed upon the illuminated wood, searching, listening, walking towards the front of the church like a mouse. 

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” You asked your question out loud. The silence of the building taunted you in return, and something constricted within your chest. The rush of it all was consuming, filling your every thought with hope and expectation. A breath sucked in, and you shook your head, blinking. Everything felt off, and you had no idea what your body was supposed to do with itself. “This is so fucked. You know, this is all…just so messed up,” you choked out the whisper and, with a small gasp, swallowed. The emotions swelled. Heavy and pounding and suddenly overwhelming. 

Who gave a shit? Nothing would change. 

But, maybe - 

Would God be willing? Could He lift the spell put on you that would continue to grow? 

“Mom is dead, and she’s not coming back.” The words spilled and dropped like shattered glass. “And, uh, it’s just like, that’s fucked up. Isn’t it? Please, it’s - well, I wish I knew, God damn it. Motherfucker!” You swore louder than you should have, not recognizing your own voice. A feeling that had no name gripped your heart. This was it. You were giving up. “Totally fucked up. And you go and make me do stupid shit? What kind of test is that?” 

Only silence answered. You wondered how you should feel. As angry as you were, it felt strange to voice it. Finally, saying the words brought unusual comfort, and it was too easy to admit everything now. “Yeah, yeah. You should really apologize, God. Lord. Jesus. Whatever.” 

“I’m sorry.” The voice that spoke back did not belong to you. Echoing off the walls and the stained glass, it sent a jolt up your spine, causing you to spin in its direction. Leaning against a doorframe was Father Sylus, looking down at the floor, that shameful expression resurfacing on his face. You witnessed the repentant facade as he lifted his head and looked at you. 

It felt like a flood rushed through you, coursing, washing away the anger, seeping into every cell, and filling you with something new. Warm and soft, somehow breaking you apart as it passed. Something indecipherable but true. 

Something almost wonderful and exhilarating. 

He looked like something you could draw. That raw, exposed sort of aura. 

That same warmth enveloped your heart, the comfort expanding across your chest. There was something profound and affectionate within his gaze and the sense that you had underestimated what was truly meant by the phrase ‘care and concern.’

It could have been a few seconds. Or minutes passed as you stood rooted to the spot. The beating of your heart seemed to echo in your ears. Blood pulsed through your veins, the silence around you growing louder. 

“For what?” You were almost afraid to speak up. 

“For whatever you’re feeling,” Father Sylus stated plainly. Then he straightened, and his look shifted, and for a split second, he stepped forward, only to pause with his fingers twitching at his sides. Maybe there was confusion flickering in his gaze. Or longing. But he still didn’t move from where he stood, as if unable to break the tension he had with himself. After a time, he studied your face and added, “For everything and for nothing.” 

After a moment of thought, you shook your head. “That’s vague.” 

“It’s all I’ve got.” Father Sylus ran a hand behind his neck, almost nervously, eyes shifting and gaze searching. Another pause lingered between you, and you blinked a few times. He opened and closed his mouth, finally settling on placing both his hands on his hips, inclining his head to look at the stained glass windows. “That…and guilt.” 

His admission seemed weighted, and his voice was heavy. You watched him take a step forward, then hesitate. 

In that second, there was a great leap in understanding. You understood that he would not look directly at you because it would break this sacred reverence between you and whatever else was going on within his mind. 

Maybe it’d always been a game, and perhaps you knew deep down that this would be his next move. The inevitable, silent communication. Slowly, you folded your shaky arms over your chest. The look that flashed in his eyes made you shudder. With a new boldness, you swallowed and whispered: “Why are you telling me this?” 

Exhaling hard, you weren’t sure whether to scream, laugh, or cry as you awaited your answer.

He swallowed, his dark gaze teeming like a fire in the low light, the red burning. His lip curled. “Because I feel like you can understand it. Why I feel this way.” 

A sick urge, sharp and needy, had you crossing the space between you, the air shaking and trembling as he finally took another stride forward. Your eyes traced over his face. Deep and pained and beautiful. His chest heaved. A strange, bittersweet satisfaction filled you. 

“I - I can’t stop thinking about -” you broke off, words quivering as you spoke. “Us. The other night - it keeps going through my head, what I said, and -” your voice was breaking again, the achy, miserable desperation settling in. 

You could tell he was holding his breath, hands now clenched into fists, gaze searching and uncertain. “I didn’t mean to deceive you.” The words hung heavy as he stepped closer, finally closing the distance between you, tilting your chin, and forcing you to look at him. The grip held you firmly, though his eyes remained gentle and pleading. “I want nothing more than to pray - beg for your forgiveness. Try and restore whatever trust I’ve betrayed - but in all truth, God, I -” 

Another thick swallow, and he paused, the corner of his mouth twisting. He squeezed your chin lightly as if in search of some answer. Then his hand fell to his side, his head turning to look at the cross behind the altar. Something burned beneath your ribs. 

“What is it?” You whispered, trembling with the effort of not spilling all your unresolved thoughts. “Tell me - tell me something, anything, or - or -” You stopped yourself, feeling a little pathetic at not being able to formulate the proper words. 

“My path was never exactly clear, but,” Father Sylus swallowed thickly, sounding more scared than ever. “Someone I loved when I was younger - she -” A long sigh escaped his lips. “We were each other's firsts and…We loved each other very much.” He exhaled again. His face creased into sadness, reminiscent and haunting. A sharp pain, almost. One that lingered from emotions held within. The truth was there, plain as day, naked, heartbroken, and fragile. “She died when she was eighteen.” 

Pain squeezed at you mercilessly, tight and almost bone-crunching. You stepped closer, your brain slowly putting it all together, realization hitting. Then your bottom lip trembles as you reach out, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say after a moment, “that must have been -” Another pause, trying to settle your lungs into a steadier breathing pattern. 

He squeezed your hand, looking at you, catching your gaze and holding it, unwavering. “I went to her funeral in a church far bigger than this one with twice the congregation. And later that day, when they put her down into the ground, I listened to the Monsignor pray over her soul.” He looked away again, this time up at the beams in the ceiling. “And I really listened to what he was saying for the first time. And I don’t know why, I just suddenly felt…” He trailed off, and you moved your hand further up his arm, willing him to continue by pressing your fingertips gently into his forearm. 

He smiled at the ceiling, faint and apologetic. “I felt at peace. Everything clicked into place. As stupid as that sounds. It was like something I couldn’t understand but needed. And, well,” he shrugged. 

“At last, it finally made sense to me,” he muttered. “The power God holds over us was always right there.” Then he turned to face you, his fingers reaching and resting on your cheek, tracing the soft skin of your jaw. “And now, I stand before you - finding these feelings again, the first true connection I’ve felt in years. I don’t mean to doubt anything…but I don’t know how to...” 

He let his voice drift off before tucking your hair behind your ear, movements tender. You wondered what he could see in your expression. 

“How did she die?” You asked quietly as if the question would destroy something in the air, but you needed to ask it anyway. 

The corners of his mouth trembled as he stroked his thumb along your jawline, offering you a small, grim smile. “She was mad at something, drank herself sick. Decided a joy ride on a motorcycle might be a good idea,” he turned his gaze to the ceiling again, and it finally hit you that he kept doing that as a trick to keep himself from crying. “She lost control and swerved, hit a wall head-on. Died on impact. Stupid girl with the dumbest ideas. She used to talk about seeing if the world curved or if the stars continued forever. She was funny and smart - but not as smart as she should have been. Her blood alcohol level came back three times the legal limit.” 

“That’s horrible,” you breathed. The puzzle pieces were assembled together. A crash. Drunk. How similar it was to your mother. Only your mother hadn’t met death head-on. It was still one of those things that made you wonder; which would have been worse? The chance was so similar yet unique. Still, as Father Sylus spoke about it, you swore you felt the faint sorrow he must still carry within himself.

“Sylus, I’m -” 

“Don’t be sorry.” He said, finally regaining a certain poise about his face, somehow managing to look warm even at this moment, smiling very softly. 

At his words, you realized you were breathing harder than before, and it didn’t go unnoticed as he scanned your face. You didn’t know what was wrong with you; you felt an emotion you could no longer explain. He had experienced loss, same as you, just not in the same way. 

Father Sylus let out a dry snort. “It’s not a happy memory, but something good comes from pain. Distrust to trust. Fear to courage. Hatred to love. To an extent, those things make you understand and appreciate everything.” 

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his middle, convincing yourself you would forget how to breathe if you didn’t. You embraced him because it felt like the right thing to do, the smoothness of his shirt beneath your fingertips. His hand ran up along your side until it rested on your neck's base, soft, gentle, and warm. He exhaled a little before resting his chin on the top of your head. 

As he held you, you realized that this was what you had wanted. This was what you had really been aching for. Everything shifted again, changing, rushing with a tangle of nerves and dizziness. Nothing else would settle more easily than being cradled right there, where you could breathe him in. 

“Hey, do you -” He leaned back, both hands cupping your face, tilting it to meet his own. It took him a moment to formulate his question. “I shouldn’t ask, but - do you still want me?” 

Of course you did. More than anything. 

But even then, you should have stepped away. Should have walked out without another word, back to whatever fucking regular life you thought you had. But with whatever strength you had left, you pushed everything aside and quietly said, “Yes.” 

He had pressed you against the wooden door of the office, pinning you in place after dragging you in there and shutting the door. Not that you really had any intention of going anywhere. Not with his lips moving against yours, the desperation sending sparks along your skin.  His tongue darted out, parting your lips and moving into your mouth. Hungry and forceful and tasting every inch.

“You know,” he said as he pulled back, taking a second to breathe, “It’s so hard to be good when you’re so…” He trailed off, leaving you to only imagine what he would say. 

No, you had no words or any logical thoughts, really. Perhaps this was the closest thing to heaven you’d ever feel, surely. And Father Sylus ran his hands down your sides, slow and possessive, grabbing fistfuls of your sweater and bunching it up. Heat began spreading throughout your body as his fingertips crept underneath and stoked along the sensitive skin. 

“Will you let me in?” He mumbled, his lips now on the underside of your jaw as his palms spanned across your stomach as if trying to map out every inch of exposed skin. The blood pounded in your veins, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat.

“If this is what it feels like to be tempted,” you mused, gasping as he sucked on the skin above your collarbone, gripping the front of his shirt. “I have already failed. Miserably.” 

Letting out a hot breath that sounded an awful lot like laughter, he pulled away, a smile stretching across his lips, amused. “I suppose you really have,” he chuckled. His hands gripped your hips and spun you around so you were against his desk. Then he ducked down to press more kisses along your throat. The shivers returned as he lifted your sweater over your head, tossing it aside with another wicked grin. And for the first time, you noticed the hint of a dimple in the corner of his mouth. 

After a moment, Father Sylus fumbled with the buttons of his shirt until that, too, was discarded, skin suddenly bare. The sight made you stop, observing for a moment. For the first time, your fingers reached out and touched the skin of his chest, moving over the muscles and across his stomach. You marveled at the way he flinched slightly, inhaling sharply at your touch. 

Everything felt…hot, heavy, and inappropriate in the best way. 

And before you knew it, his hands were running up along the bare skin of your stomach, a barely-there brush that made your breath hitch. Then his hands were behind your back, unhooking your bra as his lips found yours again, rough and fervent. As it was removed, there was not a second of delay before his hands cupped both of your breasts, squeezing and drawing his thumbs over your nipples. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his hands shifted, fingers resting along the waistband of your jeans. 

It was like every little action was becoming overwhelming, sending pulsing waves through every nerve, vein, and muscle. When he popped the button, slid the zipper, and slowly eased the jeans down, the pulsing only got stronger—dizzying with its intensity. It was challenging to focus on anything else that would make more sense. Your mind was clouded. 

“Wait,” you breathed, sitting on the desk, pulling the clip from your hair and tossing it to the floor, the waves tumbling out. His hands never left you, still roaming over every little centimeter of you they could get access to, “I -” 

It didn’t need to be said, whatever it was. Because a grin broke out across his lips. A bright, glorious grin as Father Sylus pressed another harsh kiss to your lips like he could swallow the words down.

Stepping closer, he maneuvered you onto your back, your legs dangling over the edge of the desk. The smooth, cool wood pressed against the length of your spine and shoulders as you heard something that sounded like a book fall somewhere behind you. He gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, blunt nails digging in. Breath hitching, your heart thumped at the roughness and passion of his movements. Something animalistic and unrestrained lay just beneath the surface, waiting, ready. 

“Let me,” he urged quietly, fingers winding over the lace underwear, dragging them down the length of your legs. Fingers stroked up again, curling and caressing your inner thighs, one hand finally reaching the place where you were already desperate, soaking wet, and aching to be touched. Without hesitation, a digit dipped, sliding along your slick folds and slipping in easily. The motion made you bite down on your tongue as his other hand ran along the underside of your knee, urging your leg up and apart. 

You felt the pad of his thumb gliding over the little bundle of nerves, back and forth in a way that made you groan. 

“You are,” his voice was low, almost a growl, and his teasing continued. “So gorgeous, laying there. I can’t stop looking at you.” One finger became two. Slick and hot as they moved into you, each stroke moving deeper. All too suddenly, his lips were crashing down against yours, kissing you hard and desperately as if set on devouring you whole. 

The only thing keeping you stable was grabbing his shoulder and his upper arm. The sudden rise of pressure rushed around you. His thumb slipped, pressing down a bit more on your clit, drawing another gasp from you, a sound that filled the room. Then he pulled his hand away, an invisible weight settling when the digits were gone, leaving you empty and still aching for more. 

“I’m on birth control,” you managed, eyes blinking rapidly as you processed that this, in fact, was actually about to happen. The fullness beneath your belly was spooling tighter, coiling. 

It was only a few seconds; that’s all it took for him to undo his belt buckle, his length freed. Straining, leaking, begging to be inside you. The size of it makes you swallow a certain anxious lump in your throat. 

“Please.” The word spilled out before you could stop it. The coil inside you grew more and more tense and throbbing. You needed it now; the consequences didn’t matter, nor did the guilt or shame. “Please.”

His breathing hitched as if a long controlled flame within had been ignited. One of his hands rested on your hip, the other hooking under your opposite knee, parting you further and steadying himself. The tip of his cock pressed at your center. You didn’t have any time to prepare because, at that very moment, he was pushing further, sliding into you inch by inch. 

The heat and fullness and pleasure coursed, trembling through you. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, face buried in the crook of your neck, but you could hear the grin in his tone, the soft desperation in his voice. “You, you -” but his breath choked off as he pushed all the way inside, the moan that ripped through him cracked and hoarse. 

It took you a moment to feel him fully, gasping for air and dazed beyond what was really necessary. Holding tight, you wrapped an arm around his neck, exhaling hard. The room became a haze around the two of you, the entire moment almost suspended, paused, put on hold. 

When he moved his hips again, you whimpered as he hit somewhere deep, and your pleasure spiked. 

“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, raising himself just enough to look at you, eyes glinting with a certain fervor. A little dark, a little feral, something wildly possessive and hungry and yearning all at once. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. Another jolt shot through you. Another strong thrust, this one harder than the last, followed by another. And another. It took a minute for him to set a rhythm, but when he did - you were sure the air was being pushed from your lungs each time. 

You couldn’t do anything but hang on. His mouth met yours in a sloppy, forceful kiss. Gasping and shuddering, you tried not to shout at the next jolt. The constant grind fills you every time. Deeper and sharper. The steady, thrumming pleasure. Intense and focused, as if Father Sylus were on a mission. Searching for something. Finding each sweet spot with whatever desperate greed drove him. Like now that he’d had the taste of something forbidden, he wanted the best of it - anything you could offer. 

He shifted slightly, and before you knew it, he hooked your leg over his shoulder, the deep angle making you arch from the desk. 

One hand tangled in his hair, the other on his shoulder, gripping hard and pulling him closer, trying to keep him buried deep inside of you. The friction built, the pace driving forward and drawing the pressure up, leaving you malleable and aching for release. But somehow, wanting it to last as long as possible. 

When the pleasure spooled tighter and tighter, every breath came short, coming fast and shorter. Until finally with one long, breathy whimper of an exhale, release washed over you, crashing like a wave. His name slipped out of your mouth, some deep, instinctual part of your brain keeping you present enough to utter it, still pulsing around him, shaking. 

And that brought him there, a little broken sound falling from his lips. Hips snapping, driving just the slightest bit further until he groaned into the side of your neck, spilling inside you. After a moment, the stillness settled between the two of you, heavy and thick. There was no actual sound other than ragged breathing. 

You stared at the ceiling, trembling and a bit boneless, wholly dumbfounded and satisfied. Then, with every ounce of energy left, you sat up, placing a hand on his chest.

“You okay?” 

A rush flooded through you at his question, and you struggled to make sense - to be logical and reasonable. 

“Yeah,” you said quickly, “I just. I…” What was the right wording? You trailed off, eyes focused somewhere beyond him. Struggling, you kept your eyes away. How could you possibly articulate the warmth that had settled over you, the lift in your confusion that had been gnawing at you until this moment? How could you explain feelings that make no real sense? 

“I feel at peace.” A near whisper because your words made it tangible, whatever it was. And really, you did feel lighter. It was as if something weighing on your shoulders had lifted in a way that wasn’t just because of the act that had been performed. 

“Really?” A sharp inhale of his breath. 

You nodded, reaching out to hold his face and running your thumbs along his cheekbones. Father Sylus slowly returned the nod, a tentative but wonderful, hopeful smile quirking up his lips—something bright and genuine, untouched by bitterness or remorse.

Serenity had sunken in with a comforting familiarity. Settling inside, like the feeling of returning home. Like the truth had opened its door. Acceptance and serenity. Understanding. Clarity, even. The knowledge you weren’t as broken or faulty as you thought. 

A moment passed, no words spoken. Then, still breathless and maybe a bit disbelieving, Father Sylus reached out and traced a cross on your brow with his thumb. 

“Did you just -” You blinked, a bit indignant as you huffed. “Did you just…bless me?”

He looked a bit sheepish, hands resting on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing gentle circles along your collarbone. “Guess I did.” With a slight chuckle, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91

[shotmrmiller]

cbf!Price?!?!

You mean your older brother's even older friend?

You'd been born in the US to an American mom and a British dad; but his job moved you all back across the pond. New country, new school, new people--it had been hell for you and your brother. But the family next door were so welcoming, especially their only kid, John.

Who always called you 'sunshine', gave you piggyback rides at rugby matches so you didn't get lost in the crowd, and never said "Hello" but, "There's my favorite girl".

The same cbf!Price who was your scary dog privilege when you fell in love with the underground punk scene and wanted to go to the sketchiest concerts.

When he'd enlisted, you'd cried for days, but couldn't bring yourself to tell him why you were so heartbroken, no matter how many times he asked, brows furrowed with concern. "Its only a couple months, luv, then I'll be on post just down the road. We'll still have our weekends."

And he kept that promise, as much as he could, even after you moved out of your parent's home to attend university.

It was forever on the tip of your tongue; the words you so desperately wanted to say, had to bite back, otherwise they'd destroy that precious friendship....

.... I can only imagine the myriad of unfortunate ways he might accidentally hear you whispering his name and those words....

with my brash personality, im fucking him the day he's to leave for basic. js.

no regrets around here.

--

ohmygod! imagine him being captain now, and he brings you to meet the boys.

Johnny whistles low the moment he lays eyes on you. "Steamin' Jesus, Captain. Tha' yer friend? She single?"

John does not answer him.

Kyle is kind, sweet, and courteous. Suspiciously so. It gives John flashbacks of how he acts towards women he wants to bed.

Right.

Simon's just his big, quiet self. He's intimidating, but you're not afraid—after all, you grew up with your bully older brother and John.

John notices his eyes gleam when you talk at him, yes, at, because Simon doesn't respond. But he listens. And he's been listening a little too intently, staring at your dainty hands gesture animatedly.

That's enough, he thinks.

"Time t'go home, love." You pout but wave goodbye at the boys and head towards his vehicle.

Johnny opens his mouth to speak but John quickly intervenes, that unless he wants to start fucking pushing, keep his thoughts to himself.

"I'll see you all at base tomorrow."

On the ride home, you tell him that they were all very nice. John's grip on the steering wheel tightens and says that as nice as they are, they go through women more than they do magazines.

"Oh." Did he imagine the disappointment laced in your voice?

"Do you?" What?

"I don't do it often."

"Oh." He turns his head to look at you, but you're staring out the window.

His heart races and elation thrums through his veins. You definitely sounded upset. John looks straight ahead and speeds up to take you home.

His home.

There's only you for him, and if you won't take the first step, then he will.

--

side note: what if he didn't return those feelings? christ id eat my fucking phone. im running away!!! no one look at me how embarrassing!!! his eyes soften, and he's like, "Oh. I'm so sorry, love. You and I practically grew up together."

That really stings. And then he brings his little girlfriend over to meet you and your brother, and you stiffly shake her hand and go to your room to cry.

Someone softly knocks on your door, and you don't move to open it, just yell at whoever is at the door to fuck off in a warbly voice. John's muffled I'm sorry deepens the crack in your heart.

"'S'alright, John. I'll be okay."

You did this to yourself, anyway.

The marriage invitation comes in the mail and you tear it to pieces.

Since you were young, you dreamt of being Mrs. Price, but now, that's all it'll ever be.

A childish dream.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being too close to my childhood best friend?

(This is so long I'm so sorry, there's just a fair bit of info.)

Me (22F) and Jake (23F) grew up together. Our mothers were friends for years and got pregnant around the same time, and we've basically been side by side our whole lives. We consider each other platonic soulmates and siblings.

Jake has had a girlfriend (Lucy, 23F) for the last seven months. I really like Lucy, she's so funny, so interesting, and she clearly makes Jake happy. There's been one or two awkward moments between us, but its never been anything that lingered or caused problems.

Now I know how people generally act/think about "the girl best friend" so when Jake said he was thinking of asking Lucy out, I made sure to back off a bit. Instead of having a brate (bro date, just hanging out doing something like bowling, Maccas, movie theatre, ect) once a week I said we should have one once a month, I don't call him just to hang on the phone together anymore, I make sure to not message at all on the days I know they have dates planned, ect.

I've really, really done my best to not get in the way, to make sure Lucy knows he really is just my brother, and I've tried to give them both space as someone who is not involved in their relationship.

I thought I was doing really well because its never really come up until this week. It was Jake and I's brate day and we decided to go to the mall so I could shop for clothes and he could get the slushies he likes there. Lucy knew where we'd be, and "happened" to show up, which was fine. Like I said, I like hanging out with her, and I actually thought it was cool I could get another girl's opinion on my outfit.

Jake decided to try on some clothes too while he was there and it turned into something of a mini fashion show of both of us showing off our possible choices. Lucy seemed to alternate between really having fun and going quiet. She refused to try on any herself but grinning and laughing while Jake and I were, and while we were taking turns playfully hyping each other up.

Jake tried on a pair of jeans and I was teasing him and said "damn dude, look at all that ass" trying to make him embarrassed. This was when Lucy muttered something I didn't quite hear, and politely suggested I should leave. Both Jake and I were really confused and taken aback and Lucy kind of shrugged and said things like this were things couples should do, and it was really inappropriate of me to make a sexual comment about her boyfriend while she was right there.

I didn't want to make a scene so I said I'd go, but Jake argued back and said it was clearly just joking around and he's sick of her getting upset at literally anything I do, or he does with me, which was surprising because it was the first I heard that she's had actual complaints.

We all wound up sitting down in the food court to talk and Lucy basically said that she's growing more and more uncomfortable with how close Jake and I are as her and Jake get closer, even though Jake and I's interactions have drastically dropped since they started dating. She thinks its weird we have friendship bracelets (our families went on a double vacation when we were 14 and me and Jake bought those cheap seaside shell bracelets in matching colors, that's literally it) and we hang out alone once a month (even though she's been invited multiple times and always refuses) and she thinks its even weirder than our families are so close and call us siblings.

I won't lie, it killed me inside, but I offered to back off entirely and only be around Jake in group settings, if at all, but Jake cut in and said that wasn't a compromise he was willing to make, and asked Lucy to talk more in private. They left together and trying to be respectful, I haven't reached out at all to either of them while they talk it through.

Jake's mom came over today to hang out with mine, and wound up telling me the last few days Jake has been stressed out, miserable, and isn't sure about staying with Lucy. She said it was a shame because Lucy seemed so nice, but she also said she was proud of him because I was family and Lucy's insecurity wasn't reasonable.

It made me feel sad and like I was hurting Jake by interfering with his relationship again, so I asked some of my online friends from a game I play and the opinion was kind of split. They all agreed I've never spoken about Jake in a way that hinted I liked him, but also that as girls, they'd feel weird anyway about knowing their boyfriend had this close bond with another girl, and they'd be wondering what the future would look like and if our friendship would get in the way of choices like moving, starting a family.

Now I feel completely lost and honestly a little scared of both losing Jake and apparently ruining his life by being so close to him. None of the rest of our IRL friend group has ever brought anything up about it, and I don't know if this is Lucy being jealous or if this is my fault.

What are these acronyms?

[venus-haze]

Dawn Patrol (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: You never thought you’d see him again. Your soulmate, your other half, your partner in crime-fighting, the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. It seems like the universe is giving you a second chance when you end up in this place with Homelander. Except, this one isn't quite like the man you remember, but he's not letting that stop him.

Note: Gender-neutral reader, and no descriptors are used. This is based on an anonymous request and also a different take on the “love of your life died and came back but something's wrong” horror trope. Title comes from the Megadeth song (which is about living in a dystopia). Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: Extremely unhealthy relationship. Intense feelings of loss, confusion, and self-doubt on the reader’s part. Some elements of unreality? Homelander is extremely manipulative, possessive, and gaslights the hell out of the reader in this, but no physical harm is done. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

The man standing in front of you wasn’t John, not your John, at least. He acted strange whenever you called him that. Homelander felt so impersonal, though, a title and persona rather than the man you loved your whole life. You silently scolded yourself. You shouldn’t complain so much, not when he believed you, against all reason, despite never having met you before in this version of reality. If it were even real. 

You had crumbled the first time you saw him. Weeks of being locked in a lab, poked and prodded and tested before he entered with an unfamiliar coldness. It had to have been a cruel trick, these people using your greatest vulnerability against you. John had been presumed dead for years. The ache that consumed you at his loss made it hard to even breathe sometimes, and you’d spent countless nights alone in your formerly shared bed, wracked by guilt for not doing more as you silently implored the universe to give you one more chance. You should have known it’d come with plenty of strings attached.

His name echoed through the room in a desperate howl. You strained against the titanium cuff you were chained to, and he froze upon hearing one of the links break. Rabid, desperate, tears streamed down your face in your delirium. You needed to touch him, to feel for yourself that it wasn’t your brain tricking you again. It has to be real this time.

His breath hitched as he approached you, the way animal control does a feral dog–cautious and gentle, but still regarding you with a level of distrust. Your struggle subsided with each step he took, until he was finally in arms’ reach. Looking into his blue eyes for the first time in years, your hand trembled as you lifted it to caress his cheek. Soft and warm like you’d remembered. 

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m your–Gemini,” you said. “‘Cause I can–”

“Make duplicates of yourself, they told me. Who are you?”

“Not here, but somewhere else, I'm your partner in, well, everything. We grew up across the street from each other,” you told him. “Your powers showed up sooner than mine, but your mom always said we were a package deal, so when we started fighting crime together, it just made sense that we’d fall in love too.”

“My mom?” he whispered.

“She was the one who came up with the name Gemini for me.”

His gaze softened, his eyes turning cloudy. You recognized that look. Deep in thought, a million miles away, the only place John wouldn’t take you. This one didn’t seem eager to do so either. Did he and his mom not get along here? Was she dead, even? 

He cleared his throat. “Go on.”

“We called ourselves Dawn Patrol because we’d get up before school to do our superhero stuff, and it stuck.”

“How did you end up here, then?”

“I already told them–”

“I want to hear it from you.”

You recoiled a bit. Your story began at the end, and while you managed to tell it to a group of seemingly indifferent white coats, recounting it to the man himself, or some version of him, was almost too much to bear. Still, you pushed through.

Phantom, that’s what he called himself, selfish and conniving with the ability to teleport in the shadows and seemingly shift reality itself. He was a particular menace that you and Homelander could never quite get the upper hand on, the situation imploding when Homelander, your Homelander, tackled the supervillain mid-teleport. The last thing you saw of him was his back as he disappeared with Phantom. 

No one had seen him since. Despite Phantom’s insistence that he didn’t know what happened to Homelander, you kept an irrational, unrelenting grudge against him for taking the love of your life away from you. Guilt and rage fueled you, and in your most recent, and presumably last encounter with your arch-nemesis, you made the same mistake Homelander did, and ended up wherever the hell you were.

“Either you’re telling the truth, or you’re an unprecedented liar,” he hissed through his teeth, grabbing your wrists, “but I believe you.”

A beastial imitation of your first and only love transformed before your eyes over the following weeks. In his absence, your yearning had grown teeth, long and sharp, hungry to tear through flesh and for your flesh to be torn. This new man’s rib cage cracked open to offer part of himself to recreate you. You looked into the crimson void and saw his beating heart, a long-suffering shrine to you as yours was to his, or at least some memory of him. A loneliness you were all too familiar with was already settled deep within him. Why needlessly suffer though a monastic existence any longer?

You, in turn, indulged in him. Allowed your hunger to overtake you and break your involuntary fast as you devoured him. Insatiable, your lips pressed against the skin of this stranger that nevertheless you knew by heart. In your grief, in your anger, you’d pulled him out from the ether. You wondered if you could put him back together as the man you knew he could be, bloody your hands raw clawing back the damage that had been done to him by whoever came before you. 

The first few days, you tried as much, the two of you hardly letting up from your entanglement in his bed. You stared at the mirror on the ceiling, taking him in with the attentiveness of the crowds that gathered around the tragically small Mona Lisa in the Louvre. Then, in the quiet moments, in tones hardly above hushed whispered, he’d ask you questions about this other life and upbringing he never got to experience, pensive at your answers, almost bothered at times. 

Most of his questions seemed to be about his parents, especially his mother. Though your phone had been returned to you, it had no signal, but you were able to show him photos. Some of the last ones of you and John together was at a Fourth of July party in his parents’ backyard. One of his aunts had taken a candid photo of you, John and his parents sitting together at one of the patio tables, smiling and laughing. You had everything documented, from weddings to birthday parties to school days. John always poked fun at you for taking the phrase “take a picture, it’ll last longer” so seriously. 

Now, reflecting on these times with his other, you clung to him as you watched him swipe through this other version of himself’s life. Studying it, silently reflecting on your stories and anecdotes as if to memorize them, be able to recite them by heart.

Despite the distorted period of reunited bliss, you could tell something was off about Homelander. He talked his way around your questions about his own upbringing, never quite giving you a straight answer and occasionally snapping at you when you pressed for more details. Your eyes widened the first time he did so, heart skipping a beat or two, you couldn’t recall John raising his voice at you like that before. Homelander noticed your reaction right away, soothing you with reassurances that he wasn’t mad at you, he could never be.

It seemed like he was mad at a lot of other people, though. He’d go on long rants about people at Vought, this corporation that didn’t exist where you were from but somehow controlled so much of his life and that of every other superhero. Walking around the tower with him, you noticed the way people’s demeanors shifted when he was there, a nervous submission he seemed to bask in but made your stomach feel sour. 

His attempts not to scare you, to put you at ease with the prospect of spending the rest of your life with him were never quite as successful as he hoped. The warning voice in your brain knew something was off about him. You ignored it as best you could, figuring you could manage a way to handle him and chalking it up to the loneliness he was entrenched in before you came along. One night, a rarity wherein you were alone in his suite and finally had a chance to think the situation through, you panicked, hatching a messy escape plan.

Leaving a duplicate of yourself behind in the living room, you slipped out of the suite, walking down the long hallway to the elevator. The tower was so tall that it required switching elevators to get from the top floor to the lobby, and so you made the initial descent to the 50th floor.

The ride down was excruciatingly long, and every time the elevator stopped to let someone in, you felt yourself freeze up. No one acknowledged you at any point during the descent, filtering in and out, minding their own business. 

When you switched elevators, you knew you were in the home stretch. Your heart raced as you pressed the ‘L’ for the lobby, the star next to the button assuring you that the ground floor would be your ticket out of there. By the time you were on the single-digit floors, you were alone again.

At least, you were until you reached the lobby. The doors opened, revealing Homelander waiting for you behind them. You backed into the wall on the opposite side of the steel box, as if that’d do anything to protect you.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “And where do you think you’re going?”

He entered the elevator, reaching over to press the button back up to the 50th floor. Silence for nearly twenty floors, though you were sure the sound of your rapidly beating heart was deafening to him.

Finally, you spoke. “How did you know?”

“Your duplicate’s pretty convincing, but they don’t have a heartbeat,” he said. 

John had never told you that. Your duplicates were perfect copies of you, your abnormal physical strength sapped to create each one so that they could take damage from attacks in your place. It never occurred to you that they were so blatantly lifeless.

The doors opened on the 50th floor, and instead of going in the next one over to continue the ascent, Homelander pulled you into an empty office. He closed the door, darkness engulfing the room. When you reached for a light switch, he caught your wrist in his hand instead.

“If you have a problem, you talk to me about it. You do not try to fake me out and run,” he hissed. “Do you really think the fucking white coats I saved you from would just let you walk out of here? You’d end up right back in that room. All of those things that he had, the loving parents, the pretty suburban life with your childhood sweetheart that's straight out of a fucking romcom? I didn't get that because of them."

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "You didn't deserve that."

"No," he said, almost shocked at your acknowledgement of how horrific his upbringing was. "I didn't. You're here, now, though, so we're both getting what we want."

Not like this. Not you.

Yet, you were stuck with the hand you had been dealt. This corrupted imitation of the man you loved, who nevertheless was so desperate for the intense emotions you felt for him otherwise that he was willing to believe you despite all logic telling him otherwise. 

The way he spoke about the people back in the lab you’d been held in, as if he knew, experienced what you did and even worse. Saved you from it. Maybe you could try. Maybe that could get you somewhere.

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. Being around him rendered you emotionally vulnerable. He looked just like him, and at times acted almost exactly the same. If you closed your eyes long enough, you could convince yourself it was him. How long could you go on doing that before you walked around blindly?

“Babe, did you hear a word I just said?” Homelander asked.

You looked up at him. “Got distracted, sorry.”

He rolled his eyes, the slightest smile on his face. “I’ll chalk it up to my good looks. I know you’ve been cooped up for a while, so I want you to do a team-up with me tomorrow night. It’ll be Dawn Patrol, just like old times.”

Old times? There were no old times. Not with him. 

Nevertheless, you agreed. “Yeah, it’d be nice to get back out there. Haven’t done it in a while.”

“Once you’re back at it, you won’t even have to think about it, like riding a bike,” he paused for a moment, “I guess.”

His excitement the following day was infectious. You hadn’t done any crime-fighting in a long time, and doing so with him would surely help you ease into it again. He was always the best of the best, but it seemed like here, not only was he deified, but he reveled in it.

When he brought you to his superhero team’s private gym to train, he was almost shocked at how well your powers and fighting style seemed to compliment him. Elation filled your chest. Maybe you’d jumped to conclusions too soon about him. You just had to be more flexible, willing to compromise to make it work. 

You were thrown off upon being presented with a crime-fighting schedule that night. A self-professed crime analytics team explained their methodology to you. When you looked to Homelander in disbelief, he seemed unfazed by the information. Being able to predict crime down to the minute just to bolster careers and social media followings seemed far from ethical, but from what little you’d learned of Vought in the weeks you’d been there, that wasn’t a concern of theirs.

Flying with him again was almost too overwhelming, bringing back memories of you and John in your teenage years. Instead of partying with your peers, the two of you would pick up fast food late on Saturday nights, sitting on suburban rooftops with your police scanner, eating burgers and listening for trouble. He’d grab you by the waist, flying off with you to stop some bad guys. Of course, people complained to your parents that you’d leave chicken nugget boxes and ketchup packets on their roofs in your haste. 

By the time Homelander landed in an alley just a block away from where the crime would supposedly take place, you were crying. 

“You okay? I thought you’d be used to it.”

“I am. It’s just been a while. Brought back a lot of memories.”

He smiled, kissing your forehead. “You won’t have to go so long without flying with me again. I promise, babe.”

You sniffled, giving him a weak smile. “Let’s go get some bad guys.”

“That’s the spirit!”

The next few minutes were silent as Homelander listened for the sound of a bank alarm. Late-night robbery, the crime analytics team had told you, it couldn’t be easier. You weren’t sure what time it was when Homelander grabbed you, the familiar gesture of his arm around your waist making you feel overwhelmed again. 

When he landed, you could see the glass doors leading into the bank had been smashed, leaving shards of glass scattered on the sidewalk that crunched beneath your boots. There’d be three bank robbers, one lookout while the other two took what they could from the vault. You and Homelander already agreed that you’d take on the lookout and then join him in subduing the others.

You hesitated for a moment when you and Homelander split up, but you didn’t let it distract you too much. The lookout froze upon seeing you duplicate, his hand shaking as he pointed the gun between you and your temporary clone. Whichever one he shot, you’d heal fast enough, though you’d get less damage if he shot the duplicate rather than you.

His impulsiveness proved to be his downfall, as your duplicate began to walk toward him, and he pulled the trigger, nearly passing out when the clone de-materialized before him. 

In his moment of distraction, you knocked the gun from his hand, grabbing a nearby desk phone and hitting him in the temple with it. You kicked the gun to the other side of the room before he could reach for it and hit him in the head again. He dropped to the ground, unmoving on the floor.

You set off to find Homelander. The vault was empty when you got there, a mess of valuable and still smoldering scorch marks in the wall where either the thieves had used explosives to break their way in, or Homelander had lasered them into oblivion. Regardless, there was no sign of anyone.

“Homelander?” you called out. 

No response. You looked around frantically for any sign of him.

You couldn’t lose him again, not even this terrifying version of him. “Homelander, where did you go?”

Silence again. Your pounding heart rang in your ears as you turned around, setting off for another part of the building in hopes of finding him. There wasn’t anyone else you could count on here, and for all his faults, he was the only person you trusted. 

Just when it felt hopeless and your brain was about to implode on itself at the sinking notion that maybe he was gone, a loud bang came from the other side of the bank where the vault was. You rushed over without a second thought for your own safety. Besides, the injury your duplicate had taken on your behalf was already healing. You'd do it a thousand times over if it meant keeping him safe.

Homelander stood in the middle of the previously empty vault, the two thieves knocked out, or maybe they were dead. It didn’t matter, because he clearly wasn’t.

“Where were you?” you asked, your voice cracking.

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

“No you haven’t. I came over here and there was no one. I called out for you and—“

“And what?”

“I wanna go home,” you cried, clinging to him. “Please, let’s just go home.”

He nodded, his superhuman strength allowing him to scoop you up in his arms with ease. You always felt safe in them, and you pressed your head to his chest, trying to focus on the sound of his heartbeat as he flew back to his suite at the tower.

His heart always beat faster than anyone else’s, having to maintain the life of the most powerful superhero to ever live. It was a heavy burden, though you tried your best to offset it, you sometimes felt too reliant on him. He never made you feel bad for it, neither version of him did.

You were still a bit dazed when he landed, shuffling into his living room and leaning against the back of the couch. He said he had been in the vault, but you knew it had been empty when you walked over to it. You knew what you saw.

“You did great with the lookout. I can help you train more, and we’ll try again in a few days,” he said. “I’ll get the crime analytics team to find us another softball one.”

“Homelander,” you began tentatively, “back there did you–did you do that on purpose? Disappear on me?”

“Of course not, darling, why would I do something like that after everything you've been through?” he asked, his voice soft enough that if you let yourself, you could pretend for a few moments he was your Homelander. “I told you, I was in the vault the whole time.”

“I can’t lose you again,” you said, your voice cracking. “I can’t—“

“You won’t. I’ve always been here. I love you.”

He’s lying, the voice in your head screamed, he’s not your John. There’s something wrong. 

You ignored it, choosing instead to kiss him, to drown out the rational with the feeling of your lover’s lips again. You would take this Homelander over none at all. “I love you too.”