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taeghi · 6 months

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Tides of Regret by lee heeseung | (m)

♫ song : swim by chase atlantic

pairing : fwb!heeseung x reader + zb1 sung hanbin x reader

summary : being magnetically attracted to frat boy lee heeseung was a bad mistake. but, agreeing to be friends with benefits with him was an even worse one. getting caught in a relentless, toxic cycle together leads to facing the consequences of your choices with a grand moment of truth. will you be able to break free from the destructive tide, or will you remain trapped in the undertow of toxic love?

warnings : squirting lol, daddy kink, slapping, choking + more :D

word count : 22.5k

part of the enhypen playlist series

minors do NOT interact

taglist : @ipoststuffandyeah @ariadores @ramenoil @fluerz @skzenhalove @kgneptun

If there was one thing that you liked to do, it was party. You liked dancing, listening to, most of the time, shit music and hanging out with your friends. A good, any kind of party could always lift your mood. But, if there was one party you’d always try to avoid– it was frat parties. Especially the ones that were hosted at Lee Heeseung’s so-called notorious fraternity house.

Lee Heeseung and the rest of the frat he belonged to were the embodiment of the classic frayboy archetype. And they didn’t have the best reputation. They were the self-proclaimed rulers of campus who liked to party way too much and break many hearts, especially the hearts of freshmen’s.

So, you were understandably less than thrilled when Dayeon and Shana insisted we pay a visit to their den of debauchery this Friday night.

Everyone who belonged in the frat were bad, but Lee Heeseung was definitely the most popular and the worst. He was all you heard about during the your freshmen year as all your friends were trying, or had hooked up with him. Now during your junior year, you hear about a new Lee Heeseung escapade at least once a week from either your friend, or overhearing it from some crying freshman in the library.

Heeseung did not care about or who he hooked up with. As long as they were alive and had tits, he was into it. And although he had a long reputation about being a womanizer, he also had a reputation of being amazing at sex.

Mixed along with all the broken-hearted-tears shed, there were constant rumours being spread about how easily he could make a girl cum. Which is a rare occurence with college frat boys. But everyone knew, that if you wanted to cum, go to Lee Heeseung.

He intrigued you during the first half of your freshman year, the idea that a sophomore could make any girl cum. You fed into the rumours about his sex life, and all the kinks the fratboy allegedly took fancy of. One of those kinks being a daddy kink. Yes, a cliche one, but now, three years later, and it seems to be the only kink of his that everyone is aware of. Even your wide-eyed, almost innocent freshman friends come up to you and ask if it is true that the senior, Lee Heeseung has a daddy kink.

You don’t know if it’s true, and you don’t want to know. You make an effort to stay away from the frat house of womanizing, except for tonight.

“Y/n, you’ve gotta give this party a chance,” Dayeon says when she hears you sigh from your bed again. “I heard they’ve got an actual, killer DJ lined up for tonight!”

You roll your eyes at your friend’s attempt to persuade you to want to enjoy the frat party tonight. “I don’t care about the DJ.”

“Right, you just care about the guys who hired the DJ.” Shana smirks from her reflection in the mirror as she finishes her makeup.

You roll over onto your stomach to look at your friend in the mirror, “I do not care about those awful frat boys, I care about the drama that seems to always follow them around. Drama, that is just not worth it.”

Shana rolls her eyes playfully, starting to fix her black hair for the night.

“Don’t be such a party pooper,” Dayeon nudges your leg with hers, “We’ll stick together, and if Heeseung or any of the other frat guys try anything, I’ll smack them with my feminism 101 textbook.”

You chuckle, appreciating Dayeon, “Fine, I’ll go and attempt to have fun. But if Heeseung or any of his minions come near me, I’m unleashing you, D.”

With a grin, Dayeon jumps ontop of you, squeezing you into a bone-crushing hug. “Deal, this is gonna be a night to remember!”

The three of you show up the Enha Tau fraternity house, you already wanted to leave. Of course, it was the loudest house on the block, with the music and cheers being able to be heard from streets away. The root of the cheap beer and sweat scent seemed to be in this house.

The house was a sprawling two-story structure with large windows that flashing, neon lights were shooting out of and filling up the street and sky. The laughter and cheers that were coming from inside signaled that the party was in full swing.

Shana oozed femininity in her pretty black dress that showcased her hourglass figure and matched her big doe eyes and full lips. Dayeon was dressed to make a statement like usual, her aura was one to not be fucked with as she was fierce and independent. You were sandwiched between them, feeling out of place in your oversized white blouse and black skirt, in the freezing night air. Together, you walked into the house, each one of your with very contrasting styles that reflected your contrasting personalities.

An hour into the party, and the three of you have gotten immediately swept up in the lively atmosphere. Music throbbed through the overly crowded rooms, and the air was thick of alcohol, sweat and shit cologne. You tried your best to enjoy yourself, as you sipped on some wannabe fruity, vodka-laden drink.

You were leaned against the fake fireplace wall, taking occasional sips of the drink. This was a far cry from what you were usually like at a party. But despite the energetic scene around you, you couldn’t shake the persistent feeling that something was off about this party. The laughter and chatter blurred into an annoying symphony, and even the faux warmth of the fireplace couldn’t calm your chilled nerves. You knew that the only thing you wanted right now was the comfort of your own bed, but you couldn’t ditch Shana and Dayeon this early. So, you opted to stay at the wall and keep an eye out for them.

Shana was the center of attention as always as she was surrounded by her giggly, cheerleading friends. Their faces painted with excitement as they vied for her attention. You watched as a cluster of guys were slowly, but surely making their way towards them to strike up a conversation. Which you knew would be useless since Shana would turn all of them done with her unmatched grace.

Dayeon was not that far away from Shana in the living room, engaging in some passionate conversation with a group fo people you didn’t recognize. But you were sure that one of them was Sung Hanbin, staring at Dayeon with a smirk that you didn’t understand. This wasn’t his frat, so you wondered why he was here and not at his own frat’s party. You lost interest in watching him engage with Dayeon’s group when he looked over and winked right at you.

You start to move away from Hanbin’s eyes and head to the kitchen to find something else than that colourful, awful fruit drink. The more you moved to the kitchen, the more the music and laughter muffled, creating a temporary reprieve from the chaos. The kitchen was swarmed with intoxicated college students, their voices slurring with their laughter as they looked for their next alcoholic drink. You stood near the table against the kitchen’s doorway, waiting for your turn and scanning the drink options from a far to find something more to your taste.

You mentally decide on whatever the orange liquid is in the bowl that the drunk people seem to be getting more and more of, when a voice pierced through their slurred conversation, catching your attention.

“What the fuck, get that asshole out of here, I do not want Hanbin here.”

You’re about to turn your head to see the source of the confrontation, but your curiosity is cut short when a sudden, frigid splash of that wannabe fruit, vodka dense drink engulfs you. Your entire blouse drenched with liquid and the white fabric replaced with colour. Some laughter erupted from the drunk, kitchen bystanders, but you didn’t pay them any attention, instead you focused on the figure standing before you.

In the dimly lit kitchen, it only took you a second to recognize your shirt’s perpetrator as Lee Heeseung. The notorious frat president that you had been hoping to avoid all night, now stood inches before you. His now empty cup, slowly dripped the remnants of vodka and his smug expression held a hint of mockery and shock as he looked down at you.

You were stunned and unable to conceal your irritation as you locked eyes with Heeseung, who could only stare at your shirt. When you look down at the damage, your irritation fades to embarrassment as your pink lacey bra is on full sight as your white blouse is now see through from the drink.

“Fuck.” you gasp, your arms coming up to cover your chest. Heeseung’s amused smirk remained as he surveyed the mess he had created, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he looks at your face of horror. “This isn’t funny, Heeseung.”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s just a shirt,” he says, his tone light, “Besides, I think it looks better this way.”

Your irritation and scowl grew bigger, “I can’t believe you just said that, fuck you.”

Heeseung’s smirk doesn’t waver at your words, “Okay, okay, I get it. My bad,” he said, offering a shrug, “But don’t worry, I’ll give you a new shirt that you can borrow.”

His casual offer took you by surprise in your current, evident discomfort, “Fine.”

Heeseung smiled, his eyes dancing with mischief, “Okay, come upstairs with me to get one.”

You hesitated for a moment before saying, “No!”

Heeseung quirked an eyebrow up at you, “What? You wanna change in the kitchen?”

You roll your eyes, “Fine, I'll come upstairs, but I’m not having sex with you.”

Heeseung laughs heartily, “Relax, we’re just getting you a new shirt, right?”

“Right.”

As you make your way upstairs, you made note to not grab his hand like all the other people going upstairs together. Your steps are deliberate and your expression was a mix of annoyance and determination. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why you’d agreed to his offer except to avoid more humiliation.

Heeseung’s room was a typical representation of a college frat boys living space, no surprises. It was chaos with clothes thrown across the floor, empty bottles every where and textbooks and papers spread all over what looks to be a desk. The posters of sport teams and bands was the only sense of familiarity in the room.

As Heeseung rummaged through his drawers that barely closed, searching for a suitable shirt to give you, your eyes inadvertently landed on a pair of women’s underwear on the floor. You quickly averted your eyes, disgust filling you more as you took in your surrounding.

With a shirt in hand, Heeseung turns toward you, who tells you to change in the bathroom that’s connected to his room. You close the door, leaving it slightly ajar as you turn away from it. You hear Heeseung sit on his bed as he waits for you. He has to physically force himself to look away from his bathroom door where he could see your reflection in the mirror, the hint of your stomach being shown as you start to lift your wet shirt off. He stares at his Red Sox poster instead.

“You’re Angel, right?” his voice asked as you wipe the stickiness off of your chest.

“Yeah,” you replied, your tone guarded. You glanced at his busy reflection in the mirror, moving to the side so you’re hidden away from his sight.

“You’re friends with Shana and Dayeon, right?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of recognition.

You roll your eyes, your exasperation with the situation evident in your response, “Yeah, I am.” The connection to your vivacious friends was clearly the point of reference for him, something that only added to your frustration.

When you come out of his bathroom, his shirt way too big for you and tucked into one side of your skirt, Heeseung feels light headed. He has never, ever given his clothes to a girl before, and he definitely didn’t think it would have this much of an effect on him. The way his shirt fits him perfectly, but has you swimming it makes his cock twitch, but he snaps back into reality and focuses on your scowl instead.

“I’ll give you the shirt back next week,” you tell him with a serious tone as you make your way towards the bedroom door.

“Nah, it’s fine, you can keep it.” he tells you with a shrug.

“I do not want to keep your shirt, Heeseung.” you tell him with a tone of disgust.

“Fine, fine, whatever.” Heeseung replies, he lets his back hit his mattress as his feet remain on the floor.

You roll your eyes and continue to leave, stopping with your hand on the door handle with a sigh, “But, thanks, for letting me borrow it.”

Heeseung sits up on his elbows, “No problem, sorry for ruining your other one.”

Without another word, you open the door and leave. You pull out your phone and text your friends that you’re leaving in five minutes and to meet at the front door if they want to come with you.

When you finally get to the front door through the large crowd of people, Shana and Dayeon are there waiting for you.

Through her glazed eyes and slurred voice Shana asks, “Whose shirt is that?”

“Don’t ask.” you reply briefly, trying to ignore Heeseung’s cologne, and head straight through the front door, ignoring Dayeon’s and Shana’s confused expressions as they follow you.

You successfully dodged your friends questions about the shirt all weekend. And this morning you stuffed the shirt in your bag before they could see and headed straight to where you knew Heeseung and his friends usually hung out at school.

Thankfully, you found him quickly so you wouldn’t have to worry about it for the rest of the day. He was standing against the wall, his backpack slung around one shoulder as he talked with his friends. His back was towards you so he didn’t see you coming, but one of his friends nodded towards you to get his attention.

“Hey, Y/n,” Heeseung greets when he turns to see you.

“Hey, here’s your shirt back,” you hand him his folded shirt.

“Thanks, but you really could’ve kept it,”

You want to reply that you’d never want another one of his shirts again but one of his friends, Choi Beomgyu you think, speaks up.

“Ouu, did you and Heeseung have fun up in his room the other night.” Beomgyu wiggles his eyebrows with his words.

Your eyes narrowed, your frustration bubbling up again, “No, we did not.” you snap at the group who all have teasing eyes.

Another one, Song Eunseok pipes up with an exaggerated smirk, “Oh, come on Y/n. Heeseung’s not usually the type to hand out spare shirts.”

Your anger flared up and you couldn’t take it anymore. “I don’t care what you think. You don’t know anything about what happened that night, so just shut up.”

You turn on your heel and storm of, leaving Heeseung with a sense of guilt gnawing at him. He wanted to speak, to help you, but he couldn’t help but keep quiet amongst his friends. As you disappeared around the corner, his smile faltered, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of remorse for the way his friends had teased you.

Throughout the week, you had tried your best to bury the memories of Lee Heeseung, his friends and the frustration that came with them. You needed focus on your studies and yourself, but you could not get rid of the residual annoyance that seemed to cling to your mind.

You had been looking forward to this weekend, anticipating an actual good party to help relieve your stress and temporarily escape the unease the had plagued you last weekend. On Friday evening, you and Dayeon had started getting ready to head over to your friends’ party. The whole time you knew your aim was to let loose and forget all complications of your college life.

Just as you were finishing up, Dayeon’s phone rang. You watched her confusedly glance at the caller ID before she showed it you.

Wonyoung

Answer?

Wonyoung was on the cheerleading team with Shana and was friends with her, so you were confused as t why she would be called Dayeon.

Dayeon answers with a quick, ‘Hello’, and you watch as her face contorts into concern as she continues to listen to the other line. When she hangs up she turns to you with a disappointed face.

“What?” you ask her.

“Shana’s really drunk, and she needs someone to come pick her up.”

With a heavy sigh you nod, “Alright, let’s go get her. Where is she?”

Dayeon nervously chuckles, “Uh, yeah, she’s uh, at Enha Tau.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Really? She has to be there, of all places?” Dayeon nods her head, “Let’s go get her, as quick as possible.”

The two of you left your party plans behind, exchanging irritation and concern for their friend as they headed to the awful frat house. You couldn’t believe you were returning to the palace that had caused you so much annoyance, but you knew that Shana needed you. Friends come first, even if it meant dealing with Lee Heeseung.

Dayeon and you both split up when you arrived at the large frat house, thinking that it would be faster to find your friend if you took different sides of the mansion. The house was filled with college students like the week before, all dancing, listening to music and drinking. You had to weave in and out of the crowed, while searching for a familiar head of black hair.

“Well, well, well, back for some more fun, Y/n?” a voice asks you as you head into the kitchen to look for Shana.

You turn at the sound of your name and stop when you realize it’s Heeseung talking to you. “God, no. I’m just looking for Shana and then I’m leaving.”

Heeseung pouts as he looks around into the living room, “I haven’t seen her all night.”

You scoff, “Thanks, see ya.” you turn on your heel, but his voice stops you again.

“Y/n, wait,” he speaks, and when he sees that you do he continues, “Why’re you always so irritated with me?”

His question takes you aback, your frustration simmering just beneath the surface, “Because I don’t want to be titled as another one of your whores.” you retort, your words laced with bitterness.

It’s Heeseung’s turn to scoff as he juts out his hand and latches onto your arm, he ignores your complaints as he drags you over to a quiet hallway attached to the kitchen. He lets go of your arm when it’s silent, your back against the wall as he stands in front of you.

“You can’t be seen with me without being called a whore?”

“What?” you ask, “Don’t act like you aren’t aware of your whole fuckboy reputation.”

Heeseung’s eyes hold amusement as they lock with your own, “Okay, I like to have sex, what’s wrong with that?”

“N-nothing.” you stutter pathetically.

Heeseung smirks and moves closer to you, “You won’t be called one of my whores Y/n, you’re so different from them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I could treat you so much better than any of them, if you’d let me.” Heeseung ducks his head down so it’s level with your own. His body is only inches away from you now, “Would you let me, Y/n?”

You gulp as your thoughts start to race. Heeseung’s charm was undeniable as his smirk never wavered as he watched you take in his words. This seductive game he started was ending quick and he was winning.

“Why would I let you if I could get fucked better by someone else?” your voice comes out softer than your words are and it makes Heeseung laugh.

“No one could fuck you as good as me, Y/n, and you know that, you’ve heard that.”

You roll your eyes at his cockiness, “Yeah, sure, and I’ve also heard about your daddy kink.”

You can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth, but Heeseung only bites his lip to hide his smile, “Yeah? And what about you, Y/n? Do you have a daddy kink?”

You gulp again, confused on how you’ve even ended up in this situation so quickly. You know you should be looking for Shana but Lee Heeseung has you trapped against his body and the wall and your panties feel like they’re starting ot stick to your core.

Your lack of a response makes Heeseung smirk, “C’mon Y/n, let me show you how good I can make you feel. Let me prove it to you.”

Heeseung starts to move his head in closer, you can practically feel his lips ontop of yours, feel his warmth all over your front as your back feels the cool wall. You give in and move your up to meet his, but he moves his away, tsking at you.

“Tell daddy that you’ll be a good girl and let him make you feel good. Tell him you want this.”

His voice makes your knees buckle. The fact that he’s referring to himself as daddy makes you want to have him right here, right now in this closed off hallway.

“I want you to make me feel good, I want this.” your voice comes out in a whisper as you confess to him.

A harsh slap lands on your left thigh from his hand, making you yelp out.

“Who do you want to make you feel good?”

You gulp as you say, “Daddy.”

Heeseung’s hand covers your throat as he speaks, “Good girl.”

Heeseung smashes his lips onto yours. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions coursed through you. The kiss held so much desire, yet you knew you shouldn’t be doing it. But as your mouths moved in an intoxicating rhythm, a push and pull of sexual attraction only made you want to continue. You lost yourself in the kiss, well aware of the potential consequences that can occur as you finally succumb to the charms of Lee Heeseung.

Heeseung was quick to pull you up into his room that you were in for the first time last week. This time, as you walked up the stairs, you held his hand as you allowed him to lead you.

Heeseung didn’t hesitate to lay you down on his bed, your back against his mattress and hair sprawled out across his white pillowcase. His hands roamed your sides as you continued to makeout. Your hands latched onto the hair of the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you.

Though, he wasn’t so close for long as he pulled back, his lips wet and swollen that probably matched your own.

“Are you sure you want this, Y/n?” he asks you as he looks into your eyes.

“Yes, daddy.” it startles you for a second of how quick you are to respond.

Heeseung bites his lips at your reply, but his tone is serious when he speaks, “No, really, you want this? Because, just tell me to stop and I will.”

You let your hands drop from his shoulders and squeeze his hand that’s resting on your hip, “I want this, Heeseung, really.”

Heeseung smiles softly at you, “Okay,” and he leans in to press a long, less lustful kiss onto your lips. When he pulls away, his usual smirk and devious gleam in his eyes are back, “Now be a good girl for daddy, yeah?’

“Yes, daddy.” you tell him, loving the affect you have on him everytime the word slips from your mouth.

“Daddy wants to show you how good he can make you feel, show you no one else can make you feel as good as I can.” he speaks inbetween words as he presses kisses down your jaw and neck. “Think you can handle that?”

“Please, daddy,” You begged, anticipating what you’ve only ever heard of from other people. Anticipating if Lee Heeseung was really as good as they say. And so far, you believed it.

His warm hands started to pull down the thin straps of your dress, the fabric releasing and allowing your tits to be freed to his eyes. Your pink nipple perked up immediately as his index and thumb twisted around it. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, your hips bucking up into his from such a small movement.

Heeseung chuckled as he spoke, “That feel good, already?” You nodded in response, wanting to feel more of it. Suddenly the twisting pleasure was removed by a sharp slap on your nipple instead, a gasp leaving your mouth as your back arched up. “Use your words, baby.”

“Y-yes, daddy. That felt good, daddy,” you nodded up at him as your body ached for more of him.

Heeseung hums against your other nipple in response. Sucking it into his mouth and circling it with his warm tongue. His hands pushed your dress lower down your body, leaving you bare except for your panties.

Heeseung’s hands continue their descent as his fingers push your panties aside. He doesn’t hesitate ot slip his middle finger inbetween your wet folds. You whine, your fingers tightening their hold onto his sheets as he starts to find a pace to finger fuck you.

“Fuck, who’re you so wet for baby, hm?” Heeseung asks you, his voice sultry as his eyes move from where his fingers diapppear inside of you to your face.

“You daddy, so wet and messy just for you,” you tell him honestly.

Heeseung obviously likes your response as he slips in his index finger as well. Both of his fingers start to work inside your mesh walls, finding your g spot so quickly. You let out a moan of pleasure and relief. You’ve never had a guy finger you so well before, usually you just have to fake it or deal with it until they’re bored. But, looking down at Heeseung, he genuinely looks like he loves fingering you. He’s so obviously paying attention to what makes you moan and squirm, and god, he’s already gotten you so close to the edge.

“You can cum for me, baby.” Heeseung reads your mind, your body. His lips press deep kisses onto your lower abdomen, biting and sucking the area as his fingers don’t slow down their pace. “Cum all over my fingers, show me what a good girl you can be for daddy.”

With the final referral of himself as daddy, your body is sent into a climax you oh, so needed. Your body arched upwards off of his mattress, your fingers twist in his sheets as you try to ground yourself as the pleasure takes over you. You could hear Heeseung encouraging you, praising you in a blur of your climax.

When you came down, panting and shocked that a man could make you cum so fast and good on hisi fingers, Heeseung could only laugh into your skin. You let him slip of your soaked panties as you tried to calm your breathing.

“Didn’t I tell you I could make you feel good, why do you look so shocked?” Heeseung asks you, spreading your legs so your wet core is open to his eyes.

“I just, wasn’t expecting it to be that good.” you reply maybe too honestly, but it doesn’t bother Heeseung. His focus is on the pink mess in front of him.

It’s then that you realize how much you like being naked in front of him while he’s still fully clothed. It’s a feeling you can’t describe, but allow yourself to rest in.

Without a warning, Heeseung licks a wide strip up your wet core. You cry out his name, surprised from the intrusion and sudden pleasure. He continues to lick up your folds, circling your clit everytime. He keeps his hands on your thighs to stop them from closing around his head.

His lips suck all over your core, making sure to reach every part of you that makes you scream. You’re still sensitive from your last orgasm that this one feels like it’s coming even faster. The sight inbetween your legs is almost nauseating from how much it’s turning you on.

Heeseung seems pussy drunk on you, his eyes closed as he focuses on your taste, your pleasure and your moans of encouragement. You’ve never felt so much pleasure from someone’s tongue, and Heeseung seems to know exactly what he is doing. His tongue starts to dart into your hole, making you cry out his name. Your hand reaching for his hair to poull him closer into your core.

“Fuck, daddy! Please!” you cry out, eyes shut from the pleasure threatening to abrupt.

“You gonna cum on daddy’s tongue?” he mumbles into your core, his lips never completely leaving your body.

“S-so close, please,” you continue to beg, not wanting him to stop.

“Cum on daddy’s tongue, you can do it.” he tells you, before sucking your clit directly into his mouth.

With his permission, you let the coil in your stomach finally snap. Your legs threaten to close, but Heeseung doesn’t let them. He continues to lick your pussy until you’ve come down from your high. You had to push his head away from how sensitive you were.

When Heeseung lifts his head up, his lower half of his face is shiny and wet from your juices. He watches you try to catch your breath as you lay back completely on his bed. He likes being able to tell just how good you’re feeling. How good he’s making you feel.

“You really taste so good, baby.” he speaks, moving up the bed to be over top of you. You feel your cheeks redden as you look up at him. He grabs your chin in between his fingers and thumb, locking your face still. “Open your mouth.” You do as he says, sticking your tongue out, too. Heeseung purses his lips before he lets a glob of spit drip from his mouth, directly into yorus. You can’t help but moan at the action as you close your mouth and swallow it. There’s a hint of the taste of yourself mixed with his. “Good girl.”

Heeseung and you makeout softly then. Taking in each other and building up the tension again as you moan and whine into each other’s mouths.

“Think you can take one more?” Heeseung asks you when he pulls away.

“Yes, daddy.” you reply obedietnly. Heeseung smiles and leans down to press a kiss onto your shoulder.

Heeseung stands up off his bed briefly, and tugs down his bottoms, his hard dick popping out. It made your jaw drop at the sight. The tip red and dripping, and the veins protruding up and down the shaft. You wanted it so badly. You watch him slip on a condom from his bed side drawer.

He kneels back onto his mattress and lifts your legs up so you’re knees are bent towards you. He holds your ankle with one hand as he guides his cock into your hole with the other. It slips in so easily since it’s soaked with your juices and his spit. Both of you groan out as he sinks in slowly. Heeseung’s eyes roll to the back of his head as your pussy engulfs him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” he groans out, eyebrows furrowed as he rests inside of you.

“You feel so good, daddy.” you tell him honestly, feeling like his dick was in your stomach. Heeseung grunts at your words, bringing his other hand to grip your waist.

Slowly, Heeseung starts to pump in and out of you. Both of you hissing at the feeling. It felt so good, so full, so wet. You genuinely don’t know the last time you’ve ever felt this good, so sensitive.

“Faster,” you speak up, wanting even more.

You’re responded with a slap on your clit, making you jolt forward with a cry.

“Use your manners,” Heeseung’s words are sharp at you.

“Go faster please, daddy,” you tell him, hoping he obeys yours words.

Suddenly, Heeseung starts pounding into you at an extremely fast pace. He grips your legs tight as he pushes them towards your chest. You’re completely folded for him to be able to reach your g spot with every thrust. His bedroom is filled with wet squelches as he fucks into you so fast. You feel him deep in your stomach now, and you can’t help but release screams of pleasure, not caring if the people downstairs can hear you.

“Like this, baby? You like it when daddy fucks you like this?” Heeseung grunts out through grated teeth as the pleasure is also affecting him.

“D-addy! I’m gonna cum!” You cry out, your core so sensitive from the two earlier orgasms.

“Do it. Do it, cum all over daddy’s cock.” he encourages you, wants you to do it.

He speeds up his movements even more. Both of you feel your walls tighten around him more before you’re releasing all over his cock, his abdomen and his sheets. You feel droplets of your release land on your thighs, your core even more wet as Heeseung keeps thrusting through your high.

“Fuck!” Heeseung lets out, watching your pussy squirt all over him. He can’t stop himself from hitting his climax. He releases his white cum into the condom, grunting out your name and praises as he does so. You can only repeat his name over and over again as you feel your body start to go numb from the pleasure.

Both of you still with him deep inside of you, both of you catching your breaths. You’re both sweaty and tired, but feel so so good.

With a grunt, Heeseung pulls out of you slowly, and throws the used condom in a trash can near his bed. You suddenly feel so naked next to him and wrap his sheets around your body. Heeseung sits on the bed next to you, with his boxers and shirt on.

When he glances over his shoulder at you, a grin is on his face, “Fuck,” he nods at you.

You can’t help but smile back, “That was…-” you start to say but he finishes.

“The best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Yeah, exactly,” you tell him as you sit up, keeping the sheet wrapped around your bare chest.

Both of you laugh as you take in what just happened. Neither of you had ever felt so fucking good in your entire lives. Both of you looked crazy with your messed up hair and sweat droplets down your faces.

“I can’t believe you squirted,” Heeseung laughs out into his room, the music from downstairs being able to be heard again.

“Dude, me neither,” you tell him honestly, “I’ve never done that before. I didn’t even know I could do that,”

Heeseung shrugs as he lays down on his bed, “I told you I could fuck you good, believe me now?”

You roll your eyes at him, looking for where he had thrown your dress earlier, “Yeah, whatever.” You stand up, grabbing your dress and starting to unroll it so you can rewear it. Heeseung stays laying down, watching you dress. You avoid eye contact with him as you do so, the bedroom coming tense.

You glance into his mirror, trying to brush down your as you prepare to go find Dayeon and Shana- shit, Dayeon and Shana.

“Hey, uh Y/n,” Heeseung calls to you.

“Yeah?” You turn to look at his figure.

With your attention, Heeseung sits up, “Maybe, since it was so good, we should do that again, some time,”

Your jaw wants to drop at his words but you keep it glued. Lee Heeseung never fucks the same girl twice, and if he does it’s because the girl is relentless or he was drunk. But an open invitation by he, himself, you couldn’t believe it.

“Like? When?” you ask him confused.

“Whenever. When either of us wants a fuck we can hit each other up,”

“Like, friends with benefits?” you suggest and tilt your head.

Heeseung thinks for a second, “Yeah, sure,”

You scoff with a smile, “Sure,” you toss him your phone before going back to his mirror to fix your appearance and look less like you just had amazing sex.

Heeseung types his phone number into your phone and then texts himself to get yours before he hands it back to you. “Here,” you take it from him and put your hand on the doorknob to leave, “I’m serious, though, whenever you want, whenever we’re both free,”

You nod, “Whenever you want,” you echo back.

“Deal?” Heeseung reaches his hand forward to shake.

“Deal.” Your hands meet, and then suddenly you’re in a friends with benefits contract with Lee Heeseung. The frat president you had always tried to avoid. The frat boy that made you so frustrated and annoyed and humiliated. The frat boy that made you scream so loud from pleasure, the one that made you feel like you never had before. So, maybe this won’t all be disastrous.

When you’re about to leave Heeseung calls your name again, stopping you, “Just so we’re clear, sex is the only thing I can give you– nothing else.”

His words make a sly smile spread on your face, “Heeseung, don’t worry, I am not going to fall in love with you,”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Bye Y/n,”

You leave his room and wonder what the hell you’re going to tell Dayeon and Shana.

Luckily, Dayeon and drunk Shana didn’t spend too much time waiting around for you, and they didn’t ask too many questions about where you had gone. Dayeon was too focused on helping Shana get home and into bed to wonder about where you had disappeared to. You helped Shana while thinking about how you were going to hide your friends-with-benefits deal with Heeseung.

You couldn’t tell your friends about what you had done with Heeseung. You had gone on too many rants about frat houses and frat boys, and how you wished they weren’t a thing. The three of you had all had many interesting conversations about why Lee Heeseung was the wrost grat boy, after seeing so many freshman and other girls cry. Even some of your mutual friends and acquaintaces have cried to the three of you about Lee Heeseung.

But you told yourself that you would not cry over the frat president. You would not be like any of the other girls who have shared their heartbroken stories with you and your friends. So, there was no reason to tell your friends. They wouldn’t need to worry about you or a broken heart if there was not going to be a broken heart.

Just as long as your friends don’t find out, everything should be fine. You’re gonna get amazing sex, is it really that big of a deal that it’s with Lee Heeseung?

Okay, maybe.

But what your friends don’t know, won’t hurt them.

The three of you were sat in your college’s cafeteria for lunch. It was busy and loud, but you had nothing else to do before your next class. You talked about what happened on the weekend and other campus gossip that you’ve heard. You tried to engage with your friends normally, but you struggle when you know Heeseung is sitting across the room from you.

Heeseung and his friends, who are probably also in a frat, sit across the room. You could hear their laughter through all the others. You subtly glance over at Heeseung, not wanting your friends to see, your curiosity getting the best of you. Heeseung met your gaze with a nod and a playful smile, a silent acknowledgement of your unspoken deal.

As Shana and Dayeon continued to talk, Dayeon suddenly brought your name up– distracting you from Heeseung.

“Huh, what?” you ask her.

Dayeon rolls her eyes, “Were you even listening?”

“Uh, yeah, I was just thinking about my project that’s due.”

Dayeon gives you a weird look before continuing, “Well I was saying, that Sung Hanbin asked about you the other day?”

Flashes of the last time you had seen him ring in your mind. At the party a few weeks ago, when he winked at you and then overhearing Heeseung wanting to get him kicked out.

“Why would he ask about me?”

“Yeah, and why are you hanging out with him recently?” Shana asks Dayeon with a curious expression.

“Right, I did see you two at the party a few weeks ago,” You nod in agreement with Shana.

Dayeon shrugs, “I don’t know, we have a few classes together.”

“What did he say about me?”

“Nothing much, just asked what you’re up to and all that.”

You didn’t know much about Sung Hanbin, besides from that fact that he is also in a frat. You’ve heard a few stories about him at parties and how he loves to dance. He seemed nice through all the times you’ve heard about him, or passed him in the hall or at parties. You wondered why Heeseung didn’t like him so much.

“Why would he care about that?” You ask your friends.

Shana shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe he’s into you.”

Dayeon agrees, “Probably,”

“What? No,” you shake your head, “I’ve never even spoken to him before.”

“So?” Dayeon asks, “He can still see you, he can think you’re pretty,”

You snark your face up in disgust at her words.

“What?” Shana laughs, “Hanbin’s not that bad looking, I think he’s cute.”

“Yeah, he’s cute,” Dayeon agrees with your friend.

You roll your eyes, “He’s whatever,”

“Oh come on, Y/n,” Shana whines, “You never think anyone is cute,”

“Yeah, how do you expect to get laid if you don’t think anyone’s cute,” Dayeon chimes in.

You scoff, “Easy, I don’t expect to get laid,”

Your friends laugh as you feel your phone vibrate on the table. You flip it over and see a notification:

Heeseung (best dick evr) do u want to meet me at my car after last class?

You hold back your gasp at the contact name to avoid attention from your friends. Why the hell would he make his contact that? You glance across the room at him, a playful smirk on his face when he meets your eyes. You sigh and read his message again.

You type a brief ‘ok’ before you slide your phone away from you. You listen to what Dayeon and Shana are talking about, trying to focus on your friends. But your eyes can’t help but wander over to Heeseung who’s smiling at you behind his friend’s back as they leave the cafeteria.

You feel excitement bubble in your stomach and panties as you think about what you and Heeseung are going to do after your class. You’ll just have to wait three hours to find out.

Enduring the entire class while anticipating fucking Heeseung felt like an awful eternity. Every minute seemed to stretch and you found yourself not being able to sit still for the a mere second.

When the class finally ended, you waved bye to your friends and practically bolted out the classroom. You headed straight for the parking lot, which was busy as people were trying to find their cars and leave for the day. The late afternoon sunlight blinded you as you looked around for him.

Heeseung stood by his car, leaning casually against it, scrolling on his phone. His car, the one that everyone knew belonged to him, was a sleek, black camaro with clean lines and a polished finish. As you approached, Heeseung glanced up, his handsome face lightening up into a devious expression as he watched you walk towards him. You don’t miss the way his eyes trace your body.

With an almost courteous gesture, he opens the back door, “After you.”

You pop your hip out, “We’re having sex in your car?”

“Uh, yeah, I have somewhere to go after,”

You roll your eyes but crawl in. Inside is nice, it smells almost brand new it’s so clean and almost empty. As he crawls in next to you, you look outside the tinted windows, watching everyone getting in their cars, or stopping and talking with their friends. It’s the afterschool rush and now you’re going to have sex with Heeseung.

“What? Worried they’ll see us?” Heeseung quirks an eyebrow at you, “The windows are tinted.”

“What if they hear us?” You bite your lip anxiously at the thought.

Heeseung laughs, “What? Don’t you want everyone to know how good your daddy fucks you?” His hand juts out and pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing along your jaw. His words remind you of how soaked your panties are, and how you’ve had to endure waiting for three hours for this. You needed his cock so bad.

“Fine, kiss me,” you speak.

Heeseung grips your jaw tightly, “Ask daddy nicely,”

You swallow, “Please kiss me, daddy.”

And he does so. His lips meet yours with more familiarity. His rhythm, the texture, the taste, the feeling. It’s a feverish kiss. One that’s been on hold since he texted you earlier. Both of you knowing what was going to happen, and when it was going to happen, but not being able to do it right away.

“Want you to suck daddy’s cock,” Heeseung pulls away to say, hsi eyes looking dead into your own.

You nod at him, “Okay, daddy,”

You guys shift so that your knees are on the car floor and inbetween Heeseung’s spread legs.

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna,”

You sigh and look up at him, “I want to Heeseung, don’t worry,”

Heeseung softly smiles at you and leans down to press a kiss on your lips, “Then suck,”

Your hands found his jean zipper quickly, pulling it down and both of you helping to push his jeans down to his knees. His cock was already semi hard, the bulge evident in his black boxers. Your hand starts to cup his dick while your lips press kisses into his bare thighs.

“Can’t wait for your dick to be in my mouth, daddy,” you look up at him through your eyelashes, your hand cupping his dick tighter through the fabric.

“Yeah? Been thinking about it? Thinking about daddy’s cock?” Heeseung asks, his head tilting to the side as he does.

“Mhm,” you answer honestly, “ever since I left your room last time,”

Heeseung smiles almost innocently at your answer, teasing that he’s also been thinking about you but won’t say it.

You finally peel off his boxers so they’re at his knees with his jeans. His cock sprung up, his tip beckoning you to put your mouth on it. You brought the pink head to your mouth, taking small kitten licks at it. You feel Heeseung’s thighs tense at the feeling.

Slowly, you bring the tip into your mouth, sucking around it. Heeseung’s hand flies down to tangle into your hair. He doesn’t add any pressure, just holding onto you as you give him pleasure.

You take in every inch of his dick, your cheeks tightening around it as you suck. When you think it’s successfully wet enough you let up to breathe.

“Spit in my hand, daddy,” you hold out your hand to him.

Heeseung groans at your words, “Fuck,” but does so. He leans forward and lets a drop of his spit land in your palm. You put your hand onto his dick, so it mixes with your saliva.

You let your hand start to jerk his hard cock up and down as you put it back into your mouth.

“Shit, baby, jus’ like that,” he nods at you, his eyelids half closed from the pleasure.

You could taste his precum in your mouth as you continued ot suck. Your tongue circles all the prominent veins as your hand continued it’s movements. Everytime your tongue would swipe across the slit of his tip, Heeseung would groan out your name, wanting you to continue.

“You’re such a good girl for daddy,” Heeseung praises you, his hand in your hair tightening with the more pleasure he felt.

You started to suck in your cheeks more everytime his tip would hit the back of your throat. You held it in your mouth for as long as you could before you needed air, just wanting Heeseung to feel so good because of you. Heeseung was starting to not be able to stay still. His neck thrown back onto the headrest as he looks down at you working on his cock. His breaths were becoming erratic as you continued.

“You gonna cum so fast, daddy?” you tease him, your wide eyes meeting his only made him want to cum more.

“Shut up, no,” he says breathlessly, his hand in your hair now pushing you down on his cock. If it wasn’t so far in your mouth you would’ve laughed at him. You could feel how hard his cock was in your mouth now. Feel how tense his body was as he took in all the pleasure you were giving him. “Okay, fuck, fuck,” Heeseung takes you completely off his dick, a string of saliva attaching your mouth to his tip.

“You almost came, didn’t you?” you ask him, out of breath along with him.

Heeseung nods, “Sorry, your mouth’s just like heaven, seriously.”

You pout up at him, “Then why won’t you cum in my mouth, daddy?”

“Oh my god,” Heeseung groans out, “you’re seriously gonna kill me.” You laugh at him as he lifts you up off the car floor, “Want you to ride daddy, that’s why.”

You nod at him as you start to take off your bottoms, Heeseung’s hands aren’t shy to lift up your shirt so your tits are revealed. You whine as he starts to mouth at your tits before you can even kick off your panties properly. “Daddy,”

“What?” he mumbles into your skin, “You look so fucking good today, so pretty. Can’t help myself.”

“Really?” you can’t help but ask, never really thinking about the fact that Lee Heeseung finds you pretty, or attractive. You kind of just thought that he saw you as another pussy to fuck.

Heeseung pops off your nipple with a quirked eyebrow, “What? Of course. You’re always pretty.” Heeseung watches as you throw your bare leg to the other side of his so you’re straddling him. Your bare cores brushing against each others, “Fuck, and sexy.”

You hum in acknowledgement of his words before you lean down and press your lips to his. The kiss is quick and rought and sloppy as you both want to feel each other. You reach down to grab his cock but his hand reaches out to stop you, “Wait, condom.”

“Oh, right,” you nod, and hold onto him as he reaches over into the glove department to grab one. “Really? You have hundreds of them in your car?”

Heeseung chuckles as he opens the package, “Well yeah, you never know when you’re gonna need it, right?”

You roll your eyes but let him slide the condom on and then lift you up so you’re positioned over top of his cock. Slowly, you start to sink down onto his hard member. Both of you make eyecontact as he fills you up, watching the pleasure take over each other’s faces.

When he’s all the way in you can’t help the harsh breath that escapes your lips.

“H-holy shit, daddy, you’re so deep.”

Heeseung nods, “Yeah, can you feel me right in your tummy, baby?” he asks you, his hand coming between your bodies to press down on your lower abdomen. You almost scream when you feel it press against his dick inside of you, right up against your g spot.

“Yes daddy!” you nod, “P-lease move, need it so bad, please.”

Heeseung starts to thrust up in you at a quick pace, giving you no more time to adjust to his size. With every thrust you swear you can feel him deeper and deeper in your stomach. Your whole body is bouncing up and down on his cock.

From this perspective you can see out the entire back window of the car. There’s people still walking to their cars, stopping and talking. You close your eyes as you focus on the pleasure Heeseung is giving you. His face is smashed into your breast, biting and sucking them as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. You know your knees are going to be sore after this, but for now it just feels so good.

When you open your eyes again, there’s two girls standing at the back of their car that’s directly beside Heeseung’s. They’re talking and laughing with each other, having no idea what was happening in the car just a meter away. The thought that they could hear you makes more excitement bubble in your stomach and you know you’re gonna have to be quicker if you don’t want them to catch on.

Heeseung feels you tighten around his cock suddenly, a groan escaping his lips when he does. He glances up and sees where your eyes keep glancing to. The two oblivious girls stand only a door away from his car, and he knows that that is what is turning you on more.

“Do you want them to know how good your daddy is making you feel, huh?” Heeseung slaps your ass with his hand. You have to bite down on your lip to mask your squeal that almost escaped your mouth.

“Daddy,” you whine out to him, feeling your cheeks heat up to a rosy colour. You felt embarrassed but so turned on that you couldn’t stop riding Heeseung’s cock.

“Want them to hear how you cry out for daddy?” Heeseung smirks into your skin, his thrusts meeting your bounces harshly, his tip hitting your g spot over and over.

“Fuck!” you cry out, your grip tightening on his shoulders as Heeseung pounds into you. When you glance over at the girls they are staring right at your car, their eyes widened as they must notice the car moving now. You cover your mouth with your shaky hand, trying to silence yourself through Heeseung’s pleasure.

You feel Heeseung’s hand slip between your bodies to start rubbing your clit at a fast pace, making you cry out his name more, “Want you to cum on dadddy’s cock, baby. Want you to soak it.”

You notice the girls start moving to get inside their, obviously understanding what was happening in Heeseung’s car, now. You nod your head rapidly at Heeseung’s words. You feel your orgasm start to build more and more with Heeseung rubbing your clit.

Suddenly, it hits you so quickly. Your orgasm crashes down on you, leaving your whole body numb as it rides the pleasure it’s been given. You’re arching your chest more into Heeseung’s face as you throw your head back, crying out ‘daddy’ as you see stars.

“Good girl, fuck, good girl.” Heeseung praises you. He feels your wet pussy clamping around his dick so tightly that he can’t hold on to his own orgasm much longer.

Your jaw falls slack when you feel Heeseung’s dick twitch inside of you before he releases his cum into the condom. Heeseung slopily kisses your neck as he grunts your own name into your skin. His hips don’t stop thrusting into you until you’re whining from sensitivity. Then, both of you are breathing heavy onto each other, catching your breaths.

When you glance over at the car parked beside you, you notice it’s gone, along with majority of all the other cars and people that were in the parking lot when you first entered Heeseung’s car. You wonder if any of them even noticed you getting into his car.

You shift your shirt back down over your chest and stomach. You move to slide Heeseung out of you, so you sit beside him in the back seat and start reaching for your bottoms. Heeseung starts to copy you, shifting to pull his boxers and jeans back up to his hips. It’s almost awkward as you dress.

“Um, I guess, I’ll go now, then.” You say to him, glancing over at his figure as he readjusts himself.

Heeseung shrugs, “Alright, I’ll see you around.”

You nod and open the backdoor, standing up and out– and then you feel drops of wetness hit your head. You glance up at the once clear, blue sky and see that it’s now grey and covered with heavy clouds that exude the drops. You sigh as you realize you’re going to have to bus home in this.

“Hey, uh, I’ll drive you home,” Heeseung speaks from the back.

“Really?” you ask him, “You sure?”

“Yeah, no problem– get in the front.”

Both of you move so that you’re now in the front of his black camaro. Heeseung turns on the heat as you settle in and he pulls out of the school parking lot. It’s silent in the car, besides briefly giving Heeseung directions to your apartment. You find yourself staring at your hands in your lap.

“Did you really not think I’d want to drive you home in the rain?” Heeseung questions suddenly.

You look over at him, his one hand on the steering wheel as he keeps his head looking forward, you look out your window when you answer, “Yeah, I guess.”

“What? Why do you always think of me as some asshole?”

You hear his defensive but curious tone, “I don’t know, just stuff I’ve heard about you.” You hear him scoff so you look at him. You’re stopped at a red light and he’s leaning how elbow on the window with his hand brushing through his bangs. “What?”

Heeseung glances at you, “Nothing, it’s just, I’ve heard things about you but I don’t treat you any differently.”

You’re taken aback at his words. You didn’t even think Lee Heeseung had properly heard about you before he gave you his shirt. “What have you heard about me?”

The light turns green as Heeseung moves the car in motion again and he shrugs, “Just, that you’re a prude and no one understands why Shana and Dayeon are friends.”

Your face wants to contort into a hurt expression, but you don’t let it. Instead you turn to look out your window. You can not believe people say that about you. That before the night Heeseung gave you his shirt that that was what he had known about you. That that was why he confirmed if you were friends with Shana and Dayeon that night. You wondered just how many people thought those things about you. You wondered if Shana and Dayeon thought those things about you, they were always nagging at you to get laid.

Heeseung feels guilty from your silence. He thinks maybe he shouldn’t have told you what he had heard before. But you were also hurting him. It was true that he liked to have sex, but did that really make him an asshole? Did that make him deserve to be treated lower than you? You didn’t even want to be seen with him at his own house party.

Heeseung sighs, “Sorry,”

You roll your eyes in your window reflection, “It’s fine.”

The car comes to another red light and Heeseung lets his back hit the car seat, “Look, Y/n,” you turn to look when your name is mentionned, “I don’t care who or why you’re friends with people– and I definitely don’t think you’re a prude,” you tilt your head at him, “It’s just, how about we restart? You forget everything you’ve heard about me, and I’ll forget everything I’ve heard about you.”

You let his offer ring in your head for a moment, realizing that maybe you had been a little too much on him with the whole asshole-fuckboy-frat stereotype. Maybe you should’ve been a little nicer to him. With that, you sigh.

“Fine, okay– deal.”

Heeseung smiles at your agreement, “Deal.”

The car starts moving again, and this time the silence between you two is lighter. There’s no more unknown things about one another. No more apprehensiveness towards each other. Just the two of you, who like to have sex together, in the car.

Suddenly, your stomach growls, taking up the silence. Both you and Heeseung glance at each other from the noise.

“What? You hungry?” Heeseung asks, a playful smile on his face. With your nod his smile only grows, “Want McDonalds?”

“Uh, yes!” you nod eagerly, “Please! God, I’m actually starving.”

“What? My cock didn’t fill you up enough?”

“Heeseung!” you shove his shoulder playfully, “Stop!”

Heeseung only laughs louder as he turns into McDonalds, ready to fill you up again– but with food this time. And it left you wondering if this friends with benefits deal would actually turn out to be more fun than you thought.

Lee Heeseung dropped you off at your apartment with his black camaro and McDonald’s– which he bought for you. He didn’t drive off until he made sure you got in your apartment okay with a final wave from inside by you.

From then on, things between you and Heeseung had become relatively normal. Instead of having underlying apprehensions with one another– you were honest and open. Something that was probably important to be considering how many times you two have had sex.

Everytime you guys hooked up, you became somewhat closer and closer. It was always unspoken between you two about how you had started to form some sort of secret friendship. But, it was probably unavoidable from how often you guys fucked. Every weekend without fail you would meet up. Whether it was at his frat house, him sneaking into your apartment after your roommates had gone to bed, or you showing up in his bedroom after leaving another party, telling your friends that you were tired and wanted to go home. In between classes, studying– you had become quite familiar with the back of Heeseung’s car.

But, little by little, you two would talk and joke after you were done having sex. Whether it was about some party or gossip, or just some stupid thing that happened in one of your classes. McDonald’s runs were becoming an after sex must. You had formed a friendship with Lee Heeseung, the notorious frat president that you always wanted to avoid.

Dayeon and Shana hadn’t picked up on anything related to you and Heeseung and your fwb deal. In a way you were relieved that they didn’t know, so you could keep something away from their prying eyes and questions.

Though, a few days after the first time you had sex with Heeseung in his car, the three of you were sitting in the library at lunch to study. Some girls a few tables over were having their own conversation that the three of you couldn’t help but overhear.

“Did you hear that Heeseung was fucking some girl in his car the other day?” the one girl asked her group.

You suddenly gulped as she speaks the words. Dayeon and Shana only glancing at eachother with annoyed expressions about having to hear about another Lee Heeseung hook up.

“What, really?” the second girl asked her friend.

“Uh, yeah. Right as everyone was trying to leave to go home.”

“What? Who has car sex during after school rush?”

You could feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, you could only hope to God that your friends in front of you didn’t notice.

“Mina, Lee Heeseung will have sex anywhere, anytime with anyone, not that surprising.” Another girl says with a roll of her eyes. Great, you really did sound like just another Lee Heeseung whore.

“Yeah, but apparently the girl was like screaming, like it felt that good.”

You felt sick suddenly, knowing that everyone has been talking about you moaning and screaming over Lee Heeseung’s stupid frat dick.

“God, I wish Lee Heeseung could fuck me like that, that girl is so lucky.”

“I wish anyone would fuck me like that, all the sex I’ve had has been so boring.”

You stand up abruptly, Shana and Dayeon looked at you confused.

“What’re you doing Y/n?” Dayeon asked.

You started to pile your things into your backpack, just needing to get out of that library.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Shana asksed, concerned at your actions.

“I just, I need to go, I- forgot I had to meet up with people to work on a project.”

“Oh, okay,” Shana pouts at you as you push in your chair. You left the library without a goodbye, praying that your friends would not find out about you and Heeseung.

Now, you went from fucking Heeseung at least three times a week- to not having fucked him in almost three weeks. Every time he has texted you, something had come up that he had to cancel. The first few times you had texted to meet up, he’d say he was busy and that he was sorry. But now, your last few texts have gone unreplied. You haven’t even see him at school, and if you did, it was only for a brief second as you walked past each other in the hall.

Something was up with him, but you knew there would be no point in asking him. And honestly, you were annoyed. He could have at least answered your texts, or given you some sort of explanation. Because honestly, you had gotten used to having sex mulitple times a week. He had raised your sex drive so much, constantly thinking about when and where you would fuck next. And now– nothing. He’s left you high and fucking dry.

Suddenly, your phone starts ringing from a call from Dayeon. You don’t hesitate to pick up as you roll over onto your back onto your bed.

“Hello?” you speak into the line. You’re instantly greeted with loud, house party music.

“Y/n! You have to come to this party tonight I told you! It’s so fun, dude! Please!” Dayeon begs into the phone. You sigh at your drunk friend’s offer. She had told you about it earlier but you had declined. You didn’t feel like partying anymore, not with Lee Heeseung ignoring you, and not with people thinking you’re some sort of prude that doesn’t deserve to be friends with Shana and Dayeon.

“I don’t think so, D. I’m not feeling it tonight, I will next time.” you tell her no again.

“Boo!” Dayeon answers back.

Suddenly Shana’s voice can be heard, “Y/n please! Even though it’s Enha Tau’s party it’s still fun! Come see us, please!” You can hear your pretty friends pout in her words.

Realizing that it’s Enha Tau’s party leaves a knot in your stomach.

“C’mon Y/n! I haven’t even seen any of the annoying frat boys!” Dayeon tries to persuade you.

Shana’s voice is further and muffled, “Didn’t we see Heeseung earlier?”

Hearing his name makes the knot even tighter.

“Guys, I’m not coming tonight I’m sorry. I’ll see you guys when you come home later. Have fun!” you feign cheerfulness to your friends, and sigh when you’re met with both of them booing at you before you hang up.

You open your texts with Heeseung. The message you had sent him four hours ago hasn’t even been read this time. Yet, he was at a party where he knows your friends are. You felt hurt bubble up inside you and you don’t understand why. You know you and Heeseung aren’t dating, and that he likes to fuck around with girls. But not even getting a message from him bothers you.

You just figure he’s moved on to the next girl.

Abruptly, there’s a knock on your front door. You sigh but get up to open it.

You’re surprised to see Sung Hanbin standing there, a big smile on his face once he sees you.

“Oh, uh, hi Hanbin.”

“Hi, Y/n,” he greets you, “Is Dayeon home?”

You shake your head, “No, she’s at a party at Enha Tau’s. Why?”

Hanbin’s expression dropped a bit, “Oh, it’s just she borrowed my textbook, but I need it back now to study for a test I have on Monday.”

“Oh, okay. Come in and I’ll get it for you.” You open the door wider for him to come in. He thanks you and tells you what textbook it is. You leave and thankfully find it sitting right ontop of Dayeon’s desk, snatching it up to give back to Hanbin. “Here you go.”

“Great, thanks Y/n,” Hanbin smiles warmly at you– he really does have a nice smile you think. You couldn’t help but notice how cute he actually was up close. Your conversation with Shana and Dayeon from weeks ago being remembered in your head as you take in his features. HIs polite emeanor and earnestness really add to this handsome charm he has. “I’ll see you at school.”

“You know,” you begin, stopping Hanbin from opening the front door, “I have nothing else to do tonight, and it is Friday, so, would you want to stay and watch a movie or something? Dayeon and Shana won’t be back for a while, so…”

Hanbin’s eyes lit up with a surprised but pleasant expression, “Uh sure, that’d be fun.”

“Really? Great! Let’s go to my room,” you nod behind you. Hanbin leaves his textbook on the table and follows you with his bright smile.

Both of you settled down onto your bed, easily picking a movie that both of you would enjoy. You sit side by side, your legs stretched out in front of you both, your shoulders almost touching. In the dim light of your room, you couldn’t help but let your thoughts race about Sung Hanbin, he was right beside you.

“So,” you start, taking his focus off of the movie, “Dayeon told me you asked her about me.”

Hanbin kept the warm smile on his lips when he answered, “Well, I think you’re cute.”

“What?” you replied in a shocked tone.

Hanbin chuckled at you, “I always see you around, and I’ve thought you were pretty for a while now”

You feel your heart skip for a second out of shock, and for a moment your mind flashed back to when Heeseung had called you pretty in his car. But you quickly push that memory aside to focus on the present reality. Heeseung was with someone else, and Sung Hanbin was in your bed calling you pretty.

“Really?” you asked with curiosity.

Hanbin nodded and leaned in a little closer to you, “Yeah, of course,”.

In that moment, you decide to follow your instinct. Your worries about Heeseung and everything else surrounding him were pushed to the back of your mind as you lean in and press your lips to Hanbin’s. He’s quick to kiss you back, melting into each other as you sync up your movements.

“Can I make you feel good, Y/n?” Hanbin pulls away and whispers. With your nod of consent he continues to kiss you. He gently pushes you down onto your back on your bed so he’s ontop of you. He continues press his tongue against your lip, asking for entrance. When you allow him, your tongues mesh together, tasting each other.

“Want you Hanbin,” you moan against his lips, thrusting your hips up against his. He smiles gently at you like always, pressing a kiss to the top of your nose before he lets his hands start to unbutton your jeans. He so easily slips his fingers to inbetween your panties. You can tell you aren’t as wet as you usually are with Heeseung, but you don’t voice that thought.

Instead, Hanbin brings his fingers to your lips, “Taste yourself, Y/n,” you suck his fingers into your mouth, making sure to coat them with all the saliva you could manage. When Hanbin is satisfied he slips his fingers back into your panties, mixing your spit with your juices.

You mewl out to him when he dances across your clit, teasing you. When he probs two of his fingers inside of your hole you can instantly tell it would be nothing like when Heeseung fingers you. Hanbin has to take a few thrusts to find your g spot. Brushing against it lightly as he curls his fingers upwards.

You decided to lift your shirt up over your head as he fingered you, discarding it somewhere on your bedroom floor. Hanbin’s eyes widened at your action, his eyes staring at your bare chest.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Hanbin compliments you before he lets his mouth start to suck on your chest. You revel in his compliment as he starts to swivel his tongue around your nipple. You could feel his biting, and then his warm tongue soothing over the skin.

“Please, Hanbin, want you cock,” you whine out to him, just wanting to feel him more.

“Okay, baby,” he presses a final kiss to your chest before he slips his hand out of your panties. Both of you work to remove your pants. His hard cock is protruding and the tip is red. “Do you have a condom?”

You nod as you reach over to your bedside table, grabbing one that he easily slips on. You spread your legs to allow him to move inbetween them. With no more hesitation, Hanbin teased you by rubbing his cock up and down your pussy, soaking the condom with your juices and spit. You mewl when his tip circles your clit.

“Ready?” Hanbin asks you, his eyes staying on yours as you nod.

Hanbin starts to slowly sink into your pussy, inch by inch. The strech was different, and it felt good. Everything about hooking up with Hanbin was already so different from what you were used to. You told yourself that it would be good to experience more without Heeseung, even though he seemed to constantly be on your mind during this moment.

“Fuck, you feel good,” Hanbin breathes out once his dick is all the way inside of you. He thrusts his cock back out again slowly, wanting to feel every inch of your wall.

“You feel good, too.” you tell him, your hand gripping onto his upper arms as he finds his pace to fuck into you. He goes slow, but hard– so different from how Heeseung fucks you. He rolls his hips inside of you, your body jutting upwards with every hard thrust of his.

You were physically so close to him, but yet you felt so far. You lay under him, watching him as he grunts and furrows his eyebrows as he fucks into you. You know you should be focusing on him, on the way he’s trying to make you feel– because it’s Sung Hanbin, and anyone would be lucky to be this close to Sung Hanbin.

Hanbin leans down and kisses your lips before leaving his head into the crook of your neck. You can hear and feel each other’s breaths as he fucks you. He presses kisses into your neck while he grunts out your name. You know that if you weren’t so caught up with Heeseung in this very moment, you would be at least somewhat close to an orgasm. Because there was nothing wrong with Hanbin. No, everything he has done has been right and polite. But you’re just so caught up in the waves of Lee Heeseung.

“Baby, I’m almost there,” Hanbin grunts out to you, his grip on your hips tightening. With his words you reach down and start rubbing your clit in fast circles, already feeling even more pleasure with Hanbin deep inside of you. He groans out when he feels your walls tighten around him, squeezing him and prompting him to go closer to his orgasm.

“Want you to cum, Hanbin, please,” you whine out to him, his thrusts getting harder and sloppier as your fingers go faster and faster on your clit.

“Fuck, okay baby, okay,” his voice is breathless when he responds.

Hanbin thrusts a few more times before you feel him release into the condom. The feeling of his hard cock twitching inside of you finally pushes you over the edge as well. Both of you moaning the others name as you cum. Your walls are clasping around Hanbin’s dick, shoved still inside of you as he releases into the condom.

Hanbin’s grip on you didn’t loosen as he leant down and kissed you. It was passionate and gentle– different from how you and Heeseung have ever kissed. Your bodies were sweaty where they met, but Hanbin didn’t seem to mind as he stayed inside of you. You madeout as you both calmed down from your orgasms.

Hanbin started to gently pull out of you, sliding his condom off and throwing it in the garbage bin.

“Stay there,” he tells you before he’s sliding his pants back on and leaving your room. He comes back a minute later with a wet wash cloth he must have found in your bathroom. Before you can ask, he’s asking you to spread legs so he can help clean you up.

You don’t say anything but do as he says, you can’t take your eyes off of him as he oh, so gently wipes up all the spit and fluids. When he’s done, he gently smiles at you and hands you your sweatpants and throws the wash cloth into your laundry bin.

Hanbin makes sure you’re okay and you walk him to your front door.

“I had fun, Y/n,” Hanbin smiles warmly at you.

His smile is contagious and you can’t help but smile back at him, “Yeah, me too.”

“I hope to see you again, then.” Hanbin suggests, biting his lip.

“You will,”

Hanbin smiles once more at you before he leans down and presses a kiss onto your forehead. You say your final goodbyes and close the door after him. It’s only then that you feel like you can breathe properly again. Nothing felt like it went right tonight, but it did.

Hanbin was everything you should want in a man. He is kind, and gentle and caring. He looked after you and made sure you were okay. Hanbin did absolutely nothing wrong. Yet, you feel like something is. And you know exactly what it is.

Suddenly, you can’t help but let a sob out. Your hand covering your mouth to silence yourself even though Dayeon and Shana aren’t home. Tears start to form in your eyes and you don’t even truly understand why. You felt so torn and disconnected with everything.

You lay in your bed with racing thoughts, ready to sleep the rest of this night away. You wiped your tears away as you couldn’t hellp but wish that you spend tonight with Heeseung instead. The guilt overtook you as you realized what the thought must truly mean for yourself. You felt lost with who yourself and wondered what would have happened if you made another choice tonight. Would you still be filled with regret and an inexplicable longing that left you feeling so sunken?

On Monday, you found it hard to concentrate in your classes. Dayeon and Shana could tell something was bothering you all weekend, but you refused to tell them anything. You were trying to get over the weird feelings you were having. Because deep down you knew that there was never going to be any romantic feelings between you and Heeseung. You had just gotten too use to sex with him that hooking up with Hanbin had left you feeling confused. But still, something bothered you in the back of your mind.

You knew you were still conflicted about everything. But chose to ignore one side of the inner argument. YO had to, for the better. Because there was no way that you would become another girl that got hurt by Lee Heeseung. So, you needed to suck up your confused emotions and come back to reality. Lee Heeseung was a notorious frat fuck boy– the type of boy that you always wanted to avoid. But now, it was too late for that, and you had to deal with that.

Dayeon had given Hanbin your phone number and he had texted you this weekend, but you hadn’t had the guts to text him back. You felt guilty because you knew how sweet Hanbin was, but you didn’t want to continue to talk to him when you were already this internally confused.

Dayeon and Shana encouraged you to text Hanbin back. They knew that Hanbin would be good for you, they knew he would treat you right. And you did too. It’s just, is that what you really wanted, or what you should want?

Just as you started contemplating whether or not to continue whatever arrangement you had with Heeseung, your phone vibrated in your pocket. Thankful for another distraction from your current class, you pull out your phone.

Heeseung (best dick evr) do u wanna come over after ur class?

You felt yourself gulp as you read his text. This was the first text back from him in a week. You hesitated as you re-read his text over and over, ignoring your professors words as they went over the lecture slides. There was uncertainty gnawing you, but eventually, you found yourself texting a reply.

you sure

When you arrive at the Enha Tau house, you were almost scared from how quiet and unusual it was. It was a weekday, and there was no sign of the usual raucous party atmosphere that usually took over the entire street. The house was eerily silent as you knocked on the door. You figured all the other frat boys were out, either at their own classes or college clubs.

When Heeseung opened the door, you saw him properly for the first time in weeks. You felt your heart clench at the thought. He looked undeniably good, his appearance exuding an alluring charm like usual. He was more reserved than usual thought. There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as he stepped aside to let you in. You couldn’t hellp but admire his facial features as you walked past him. The room seemed charged with unspoken tension and you couldn’t help but wonder how the dynamics between you have evolved during your time apart.

Stepping into Heeseung’s room, you notice how it looked cleaner than all the other times you’d been there. The clothes were folded and put away, and all the chaos that surrounded his desk and closet had been somewhat tamed.

Heeseung, now sitting on his bed as you walked around and looked at the pictures of his friends and family you could actually see now that his room was cleaner. You tried to ignore the sense of awkwardness hanging in the air. You could both sense that something had changed during their time apart, and you were treading cautiously around it. It was a strange mix of familiarity and uncertainty.

“So,” You start when you lean against his desk, “how’ve you been?”

Heeseung sighs, “Good. I thought I would’ve seen you at the party on Friday.”

You shrug, “Nah,”

“Why not? Doesn’t seem like you to want to miss a party, especially if your friends are there.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the mention of Shana and Dayeon, “Just didn’t feel it.”

Heeseung sighs and brushes his bangs back out of his face. He completely knows that the reason why it’s awkward is because of him. “Sorry I didn’t text you back, I had some shit to deal with.”

It was true. He did have some shit to deal with. Some family financial things that he must always take care of because his parents can’t. It’s the same shit that he never tells anyone and he mentally groans when he knows you’re about to ask him.

You perk up at the beginning of his apology, “What type of shit?”

“Stupid shit.” Heeseung is quick to reply. He can obviously tell you don’t like his answer by the way you sigh and move to sit beside him on his bed, both of your feet are on the floor as you sit side by side.

“What type of stupid shit?”

“Don’t worry about it shit. It’s done.”

You look away from him when he responds, not saying anything else because you know that that’s all he’s going to give you. Heeseung hates the way your expression looks right now. Hates that he always sees that face on everyone he’s ever closed to. Hates that it’s on your face right now because of him.

“Y/n, look,” Heeseung puts his hand on your thigh, making you look up at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t text you. I saw your texts and I know I should’ve, but I just couldn’t. I was busy and stressed with this shit that came up and I didn’t even know what to do. So I’m sorry.” You nod at his words, a small pout still on your lips that he wishes he could kiss away, “And I’m not good with, opening up, or whatever. So, I’m fine now, don’t worry about it.”

You sigh again but, can tell that he’s being genuine. His eyebrows are furrowed as he explains to you why he hasn’t answered the best he could. And finally, “It’s okay, Hee. I get it.”

Heeseung smiles at your answer, taking his hand off your thigh and settling back onto his bed against his headboard, “Good, because I missed you.”

You smirk playfully at him, “Me or my pussy?”

“Hm,” Heeseung pretends to think, “Both.” You roll your eyes at his answer, “C’mere.”

You smile at him as you crawl over his bed so you’re perched ontop of him. Your knees on either side of his thighs as you straddle him. Both of your arms find each other almost instinctively at this point. His arms wrap around your waist and yours wrap around his shoulders, locking the other one in.

“Did Y/n miss her daddy?” Heeseung looks up at you. You nod, almost shyly when you hear the name. Heeseung smiles before he leans down to press kisses along your neck, finding all the sweet spots he knows so well. You already whimper at his touch, craving it for so long. You feel him smirk into your skin but you could care less if he finds you being needy so amusing.

You start grinding his hips down onto his, needing to relieve some pressure already. His hands help guide you over his crotch as you do so.

“Fuck, baby– Daddy missed your body so much.” Heeseung groans out as he looks down to where your so needily dry humping him.

“Missed yours too, daddy.” you whine out to him, throwing your head back and closing your eyes as you focused on grinding your hips downwards. You feel Heeseung kissing all over your neck. His hands moving under your shirt to lift it up. His hands cup your breasts so nicely, like they perfectly in his hands.

“What the fuck?”

You open your eyes and look at Heeseung. His face contorted into a look of confusion. You look down to your chest where he is staring– catching sight and instantly remembering of the hickey’s Hanbin had left on your chest and tits. Your eyes widen when you glance at the purple and blue marks, some of them yellowing from healing.

“What is that?” Heeseung asks you, his facial expression not changing.

“Uh, hickeys.”

“From who?”

You feel your heart beat pick up in your chest, “Hanbin.” Your voice comes out weak.

“Sung Hanbin?”

You can’t find yourself to confirm, but Heeseung takes your lack of response as the answer. You watch as his face changes from confusion to disgust. He moves your right leg off of him so he can swing his legs over his bed. His back is towards you when he asks, “When?”

“Friday night.”

You watch as Heeseung turns his head away in disbelief and mumbles, “Oh my god.” as he stands up.

“Hee,” you start but stop when he leans down abruptly over his desk, his head hanging. “What?” He ignores you, keeping his back and face away from you as he shakes his head. You can tell he’s pissed at you just from his body language. “What?”

Heeseung turns, an annoyed, angry expression on his face, “Just, Sung Hanbin. Really?” his voice is mean and condescending when it comes out.

You scoff and move so you’re sitting up straight on his bed instead of kneeling, “What’s wrong with that? Why can’t I hook up with other people?”

Heeseung sighs, his fingers squeezing the spot between his eyebrows. His voice is lower now, “You can. It’s just, you had to fuck him? Of all people really, him?”

“Why do you care who I hook up with?” your voice raising as you speak. You can’t help but think how uncanny it is. Lee Heeseung of all people, judging you for hooking up with someone.

Heeseung lets out a frustrated grunt as he turns back around to not see you. He doesn’t answer, but you can see that he’s trying to calm himself down. You had no idea he’d get this mad about it.

When it’s silent in his bedroom for a few moments you speak again, “Heeseung,” your voice is calmer and softer when you ask, “Are you mad because I hooked up with Hanbin, or that I hooked up with someone else at all?”

You hear Heeseung breathe a heavy breath before he answers, “Both.”

You breathe in a heavy inhale, taking in his answer. “Heeseung, if you’ve been hooking up with everyone else, then why can’t I?”

Heeseung turns at your words, his face back to confused, “Well, I haven’t been hooking up with anyone else,” you can tell you look taken aback at his answer, “Only you.”

Heeseung looks away from you but his body stays facing you, you can tell he’s struggling to look at you. The room goes silent again, but it’s full of anger.

“What do you want me to do then? Leave?” you stand up before he can answer, heading straight to his bedroom door.

“No,” a hand grabbing your forearm stops you, you turn to look at him, his arm stretched out to grab you, “Stay.”

You turn to face him, his hand stays on your forearm, holding you like you’d run away if he let go. Like he’s scared that that would happen. You tilt your head to the side when he doesn’t say anything. The room is thick as you two stare at each other, each trying to figure out what to say or do.

Heeseung finally lets your forearm go and he leans back on his desk, “Did- did you use a condom when you fucked Hanbin?”

You close your eyes at his vulgar words but reply, “Yes.”

Heeseung sighs once more, “Then let’s update our deal,” he steps forward again so he’s an inch away from you, “I can only fuck you, and you can only fuck me.”

He’s serious with his words, and sticks out his hand for you to shake, “Deal?”

You think for a second, staring at his outward hand in front of you, but ultimately nod, “Deal.” Your hands meet in a shake, once again securing some weird arrangement with the frat boy you once wanted to avoid.

With the hand he’s holding onto, he suddenly pulls you forward, your face landing in his chest, “Now will you let me fuck you?” You nod up at him, wanting to feel him so bad.

His hand meets your lower cheek, a light warning, “Use your words. Beg,”

“Yes, daddy. Please fuck me, daddy. I’ve wanted it for so long,” you instantly whine out to him, the truth spilling out in your words.

Heeseung smirks down at you, before he’s pushing you over onto his bed on your back. He doesn’t hesitate to climb on top of you, his hand going straight for your neck and squeezing. Your mouth drops open as he chokes you, “Gonna let daddy ruin your pussy?”

“Please,” you speak out to him. He leans down and harshly presses his lips onto yours. You kiss him back, his hand still enclosed on your neck as you makeout with him. Taking in his taste and lips that you had missed feeling so much.

When he pulls away completely he commands, “Take your clothes off,”

You hurriedly do as he says, standing up and pulling off your clothes, dropping them onto his floor. He leans back on his bed and watches you, taking in your body that he knows so well. Your body that he loves. You stand in front of him naked, letting him soak in your body.

When he meets your eyes he says “On your back, spread your legs.”

You lay on your back, letting him kneel in between your legs. His eyes circle around the bruises Hanbin had left. You can see the anger form in his eyes as he looks around the purple marks.

“Did Hanbin fuck you good? Did he fuck you as good as I do?”

“No, daddy. No,” you shake your head instantly.

Heeseung reaches forward and traces the bruises on your chest, “You sure? Looks like he had fun.”

“Yes, daddy. I thought about you the entire time,” you speak honestly, knowing you’ll probably regret it tomorrow.

Heeseung smirks at your answer, “Really? Don’t think I need to show you who’s pussy this belongs to?”

You gulp at his words, “Show me, daddy.”

Heeseung quirks his eyebrow up before he slips his middle finger right into your pussy. You gasp out at the intrusion, his finger going right at your g spot. His thumb starts slow circles on your clit at the same time. “Fuck, did Hanbin get you this wet?”

You moan out as he starts to push his middle finger in and out of you. “God, why do you hate Hanbin so much.”

Heeseung grunts at your question and starts pounding two of his fingers inside of you, stretching you open so easily from your walls being so wet. “Fuck!” you cry out, your hand flying to grip onto his sheets from how hard and fast he had his fingers fucking into you.

“He fucked my girlfriend,” Heeseung states.

“What?” you lift your head, trying to refocus on his words despite your pussy clamping helplessly around his fingers.

“He fucked my girlfriend and then dated her right after.”

You tried to take in his words, thinking about Hanbin taking Heeseung’s apparent girlfriend. But the only girl you knew that dated Hanbin was, “Choi Yerim!” Heeseung rolls his eyes at her name. “You dated Yerim?” your question comes out in a high pitch whine as Heeseung’s pace didn’t let up.

“For like a week before she cheated on me with Hanbin,” Heeseung explains like his fingers were curling up inside of you, massaging your g spot before pulling out and forcing his fingers back in again.

“Oh shit,” you moan out, “I-I’m sorry.”

Heeseung scoffs, “Don’t worry about it and cum.”

You nod against his pillow, grunts and moans escaping your lips as his thumb keeps rubbing circles on your clit, “Fuck! Fuck!”

“That’s it, baby, cum on daddy’s fingers.”

His words are the final push that send you over the edge of your first orgasm. You squeal and cry out his name as his fingers fuck you through it. You’ve needed this so bad. Needed Heeseung, needed his fingers, his words.

He takes his fingers out of you, his tongue starts to lap around them, sucking up your juices.

“Fuck, I missed your taste.” Heeseung leans over you, “Did you let Hanbin taste you, too, whore?”

“No, daddy,” you shake your head.

“No?” Heeseung mocks you, “You’re not the little whore I think you are?” You bite your lip and repeat yourself, desparate. “Who’s whore are you?”

“Yours, daddy. Just yours.”

Satisfied with your answer, Heeseung leans down so his mouth is level with your sopping pussy. He doesn’t wait a second before he’s delving his mouth onto your core. His lips sucking every part of you. A gasp leaves your mouth when he starts to get just the right rhythm.

Heeseung is ravenous in your pussy. He’s always liked eating out girls, especially you. He loves the way you jut your hips forward and grind your pussy down onto his mouth, always needing more. You could just never get enough of him and it drove him crazy.

Tonight, Heeseung is even crazier as he eats you. His whole head and neck moving to lick every single part of you. Alternating from fucking your hole with his tongue, to circling your clit. He loves to bite down gently on your clit, loving the way you squeal out and tell him to not stop.

Your hands tangle in his black hair, tugging on it to try to gound yourself from how high you felt on pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeat, trying to close your legs around Heeseung’s head, the pleasure increasing and increasing. But, Heeseung stays inbetween your legs, his tongue delved deep inside of you. “I- I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum, whore, do it– let me see how much of a whore you really are.” Heeseung encourages you before he tongue fucks you again, nose pressed into your clit.

“Oh, god, oh-,” you cry out, “Fuck!” you scream as you feel your orgasm hit. You feel wet drops land all on your inner thighs as your body goes almost numb from the pleasure. Your breathing is erratic as you let the pleasure consume your whole body.

“Fuck, baby,” Heeseung groans out, his entire lower half of his face and collar of his shirt is soaked. “That was so fucking hot,” you open your eyes finally once the pleasure dies down, you take in Heeseung’s appearance and realize that you must have squirted again. Heeseung moves so you’re face to face, “You okay?”

You nod against the pillow, “Yeah, just, waited a while for this.”

Heeseung feels his heart clench at your words but doesn’t let it show, “Roll over,”

Heeseung helps you onto your stomach, your ass up in the air for him. You hear him stand and undress himself quickly, almost as eager as you are. You watch as he opens his drawer and grabs a condom to slide on. He pumps his cock as he gets on the bed on his knees, gripping your ass as he gets behind you.

“Gonna show you who’s messy pussy this is, huh baby?” Heeseung grunts as he starts to slide his thick length up and down your slit.

“Yes, daddy, please,” you respond so obediently to him.

Heeseung finally starts to push his hard cock into you, so, so slowly. It makes you whine out as he seemingly takes all the time in the world to fill you up. Once inside, both of his hands land on your ass cheeks, making you cry out.

He slaps your one ass cheek once more, “Fuck, you feel so good, so fucking messy, baby.”

“Just, just for you, daddy.”

“Yeah? No one else?” Heeseung leans over so his chest is right against your back.

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” he praises before he’s leaning back up and moving his hips backwards, sliding his cock right out of you until just the tip is inside of you still, and he slams it back inside of you. He continues fucking into you like that until his pace has picked up feverishly. He’s fucking into you so roughly that your entire body is moving upwards on the bed, your hands holding onto the headboard to make sure you’re not rammed into it.

“Yes! Just like that daddy, please!”

“Just like this? The whore likes it when I, god, I fuck her hard and rough?” Heeseung questions, his grip on your waist tightening as he only moves his hips back and forth.

“Yes! Fuck, yes!”

Your face was smashed into the mattress as you let Heeseung fuck your pussy. If it wasn’t for Heeseung holdin gyour hips up then your whole body would flat against the mattress. He was fucking you until you were useless. Allowing him to use you and fuck you so good.

“Did Hanbin fuck you this good? Get you to cum so good?” Heeseung grunts out, his voice becoming as breathless as you were. When you didn’t answer you earned another harsh slap on your ass, “Answer whore or I stop.”

“No!” you instantly cry out, “No!”

You spread your thighs farther apart, letting Heeseung have more room. You keep moaning at the sensation of his cock gliding so easily against your walls. His cock has never felt so hard and full before. It fills you up perfectly.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Heeseung groans out, slapping your ass again, loving the way you tighten even more every time he does. “You gonna cum?”

You can only mumble a short yes as you feel the coil already starting to snap in your stomach. Heeseung wraps his arm around your abdomen so his fingers can rub at your clit sloppily. It was the final action that caused you to cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as the wave of your orgasm took over your body completely. You had truly hit oblivion because of Lee Heeseung’s cock.

Heeseung’s pulls his cock out of you, and quickly pulls off the condom before he starts jerking his cock at a fast pace. The juices from your pussy on his fingers spreads over his cock evenly. “C’mere, baby– wanna cum on your face.”

You numbly roll over onto your back, letting Heeseung kneel closer to your face. You could hear and see your juices squelch on his cock from how fast he was jerking his cock.

“Please cum, daddy, wanna taste your cum so bad,” you speak up to him, fucked out.

Finally, Heeseung cums, “Fuck, fuck Y/n,”. Not a second later that you feel warm droplets of his cum hit your face. They land on your cheeks, lips and nose. He lets out a final groan before he drops to sit down on the bed beside you. He watches as you lick away his cum that landed on your lips before her scoops up the remaining on your cheeks and nose, “Open,” you do as your told and let him stick his cum covered fingers into your mouth. He feels you hum around them at the taste of his cum and the remnants of yourself. “Good girl,”

When he pulls out his fingers he leans down to press a kiss onto your lips before he lays down beside you, finally able to try catching his breath. His room is silent besides your heavy breaths.

Heeseung glances over at you after a few moments, taking in your tired, naked body. He watches the few sweat droplets train down your neck and hairline. Your messy hair is sprawled around his pillow with your lips swollen. Your ass is red from his slaps and he’s sure your pussy is just as red and puffy. He thinks that he should get up to get you a towel or something, but you’re already getting up, reaching for your clothes.

You don’t care what your hair or makeup looks like as you dress, reality finally sinking in about what deal you’ve made with Heeseung. How you can only fuck each other. You never would have thought that Lee Heeseung could stick to only fucking one girl, so how the hell would he want only fuck you?

“You going?” Heeseung asks you lazily from his laying position on his bed, his bare chest not covered by the sheet that covers his lower half.

“Yeah, I gotta finish a paper that’s due tomorrow,” you lie so easily to him. Heeseung doesn’t respond as he watches you put your shoes back on and head for his bedroom door, but you hear him shuffle around on his bed. When you turn back to him, holding the door halfway open before you leave, his back is facing you as he rolled over onto his side, “Oh and Heeseung?”

“Yeah?” he mumbles to you, fatigue evident in his voice.

“I’m sorry I hooked up with Hanbin.” you tell honestly now.

It’s silent for a moment and you wonder if he fell asleep before, “It’s fine– don’t worry about it.”

Heeseung hears you sigh and then leave his room, closing the door behind you.

He feels weird now that you’ve left. It’s become a routine for you two that after you fuck, you get food or talk or just lounge around whatever place you’ve just fucked in. He thinks maybe it’s because he’s usually the one to leave so quick after hooking up with someone. It saves him some awkwardness and closes any option for a conversation. But, that was before he started hooking up with you.

With you, it’s different. He likes talking to you, hanging out with you, hearing whatever stupid story you just have to tell him. He doesn’t know why it’s different, just that it’s with you. You stand up to him and challenge him. You’re not clingy or looking for a relationship. You understand that that is something he could never give you. And it tugs at his heart a little in a way he absolutely hates. Because Heeseung hates relationships and feelings and everything that comes along with them.

And he hates that he’s thought about what it would be like to be in a relationship with you. The past weeks have been hell for him because of his family, but when he would finally get some piece and quiet, all he would think about was you. Everytime he got a message from you it would clench his heart a little. But, he’s just too fucked up and he doesn’t want you to have to deal with all of his fucked up problems, too.

Heeseung feels selfish a bit, telling you that he’s the only one that you can fuck. But, a deal is a deal, even if that means him being a little possessive over you. Because he knows that your little deal is the only thing he will truly ever have with just you, and nothing more. Because he’s Lee Heeseung, who doesn’t do relationship, and you’re Y/n, who doesn’t even want to be seen with him in public.

As Heeseung contemplates the complex tide of his and yours secret arrangement, he couldn’t help but feel a longing for you, wishing that you stayed in his room with him, just a bit longer.

After you and Heeseung had updated your deal, things seemed to go back to normal, at least the sex was. You would always text each other about when and where you needed the other. There was a comfortable rhythm, a balance almost. You would fuck, leave, text when your horny and repeat.

Until one day when you had just finished hooking up in his car outside some stupid party you both were bored at. You were reaching for the car door when Heeseung asked if you wanted to get food or something, stay a little longer. You paused with your hand on the door knob and looked at him.

“That’s not a part of our deal, is it, Hee?” you ask him with a knowing smirk.

“Well, no, but I’m hungry,”

You bit your lip as you contemplated his words, reaching your hand out to tangle your fingers in his hair, “I can’t, Shana and Dayeon are still inside, I’ll see you at school though, right?”

Heeseung kept his masked smirk on his face at yours words, “Right,”

“Enjoy McDonald’s for me.” You shove his shoulder before you get out of his camaro and head back inside to find your friends.

Both of you let out a breath at the same time unknowingly. There was tension growing between you and neither one of you wanted to mention it. It would be better if it was ignored at all cost. Both of you had your reasons and it would just complicate things if it was brought up. But still, both of your hearts ached as you waved bye to Heeseung from the front porch as he drove away.

After, you started to notice that Heeseung was texting you to meet up more often. You thought he just needed to destress at first, but now it seemed like he didn’t even want to fuck half the time you showed up.

“You’re becoming clingy,” you tell him as you kiss down his neck as you were currently straddling his lap on your bed.

“No, I’m not,” he replies instantly, feeling you smile into his skin.

You sigh and wrap your arms around his shoulders as you look at him, “You are,” you keep the smile on your face.

“No, I’m not, I’m just horny, so why don’t you suck my dick like the good girl I know you are?”

You roll your eyes at him, but move down to be inbetween his legs, ready to make him cum for the one millionth time.

After you told him you think he’s becoming clingy, his hook up texts slowed down, which only made you crave him more. Especially since it was mid term season and all you had time to do was study. No parties, no fun, no Heeseung hookups.

One night, Shana and Dayeon were tired from studying and headed out to some party that they had begged you go to with them. With your refusal, they left without you so you could study for the rest of the night in peace.

It was well past midnight when you heard your phone vibrate from somewhere under all your papers and textbooks.

Heeseung (best dick evr) are u awake?

You yeah

Heeseung (best dick evr) ok good bc i’m outside

Shocked, you quickly threw on a hoodie over your tank top and headed to your apartment door.

As you opened the door, sure enough, Heeseung was there. And he was drunk. You could tell just from looking at him, and when he walked past you into your apartment he’s been in so many times, you could smell it.

“Heeseung, what’re you doing?” you asked him concerningly.

“What? I came to see you,” he replies with a subtle, slurred speech.

“Okay… but we are not fucking with you in a state like this,”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “I didn’t come to fuck you, I just wanted to see you.”

His explanation hangs in the air before you sigh, “Okay, come to bed, Heeseung.”

He so easily flops down onto your bed, giggling drunkenly to himself as he bounces upwards on the mattress. He watches as you quickly try to fix your hair in the mirror by your door.

“C’mere pretty girl,” Heeseung reaches his arm out to try to reach you from across the room.

You scoff at his words, “Oh god, now you’re complimenting me?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“You never do that,”

Heeseung looks taken aback at your words, “What? I do all the time.”

“Saying my pussy is so wet and tight does not count, Hee.”

Heeseung laughs at your words but he can still tell that you’re serious, “Okay, well I compliment you in my head all the time,”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like,” Heeseung draws out the word, “how you’re so pretty, and funny, and responsible and how you have a fuckin’ smoking hot body.”

You cover your face in your hands at his words, not believing how drunk he is in your bed right now.

“Come here,” he whines out to you, and pats the spot next to him on your bed.

“Fine,” you tell him and let him pull you into your bed. You lay down beside him like he instructs you to. So now both of you are laying side by side. Your bedroom lights are turned off, with just the moonlight and streetlamp coming in through your window.

When your room goes silent again, Heeseung speaks up, “I do mean it though, those compliments.”

“Hm, do you?”

“Yeah, I do, because I like you– more than anyone.”

You glance over at him, his hood from his sweater is on his head as he lays down, his eyes are closed as he speaks to you, mumbling something about when he keeps his eyes open he feels like the room is spinning.

You don’t know how to respond to his words, trying to decipher what he means by them.

“Don’t believe me?” Heeseung’s eyes open as he turns his head to look at you.

“I don’t know what to believe.” You tell him earnestly.

Heeseung sighs, “I do like you Y/n, but I’m just too, like messed up.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“Remember when we stopped talking a few weeks ago, because I said I had some shit to deal with?” With your nod, he continues, “Well it’s because my brother’s just gotten out of jail, and my parents are too drunk to help him. So I was helping him with money and to find a place to live and all that. He’s my best friend, so.”

Your heart clenches at his confession, “What did your brother do, if I can ask?”

Heeseung waves his hand discardingly, “Took a the blame for my drunk parents crashing the car, nothing big.”

“What? Heeseung that’s really big. Why would he do that?” your body turns to face him.

Heeseung shrugs, “I don’t know, they’re drunks, but he’s always tried to help them– way more than I ever have. But he’s helped them, and now they aren’t even helping him. So I have to, because he’s my brother and he raised me.”

You can’t help but reach your hand out to brush Heeseung’s bangs out of his face, “I’m sorry, Heeseung, that’s so tough. You’re so kind.”

Heeseung shrugs, “I’m fine, it’s fine.”

“Hee,” you call him, moving his chin so he looks at you, “You don’t have to be fine all the time, you can talk to me.”

“Don’t say that to me.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause it’ll just make me fall in love with you more.”

Your heart raced with a mix of surprise and uncertainty as Heeseung’s words. It’s a drunk confession, and it leaves you with a torrent of emotions that are going to be difficult to untangle.

Heeseung yawns then, rolling onto his side, “Night, Y/n.”

“Night, Heeseung.”

You try to sleep that night, but all you can think about is Heeseung’s words and how his warmth is radiating onto your back. It was the first time you had ever slept in the same bed together. You could smell his cologne, hear his light breaths, and feel everytime his hand shifted on your waist as he held you. You wondered if he’ll regret this in the morning.

The morning sun crept through your curtain, casting a soft flow in the room as you and Heeseung woke up. Heeseung yawned before he realized how big of a headache he has.

“Morning,” you tell him cautiously, remembering last night.

“Morning,” Heeseung kept his hand on his head, the sunlight killing his head more.

“Here,” you pass him the water and advil you kept on your nightstand. He gratefully took it, hoping it fixed his headache sooner rather than later.

Heeseung glances down at both of your clothed bodies laying in your bed, “Did we?...”

“No,” you shook your head, “You were so wasted.”

Heeseung grins before plopping his head back against his pillow, “Yeah, sorry about that. The guys talkekd me into taking a break from studying and I guess I took too much of a break.”

You crack a smile at his playfulness, “So you don’t remember much from last night?”

Heeseung furrowed his brow as he tried to think, “Nah, I guess not a lot of it. I remember getting into an Uber and that’s it. Guess I can here.” He smiles cheekily at you. When he sees you don’t return his smile he asks, “Why? Did something happen?”

You immediately shook your head, “No, nothing.” you forced a smile. Heeseung shrugged before pulling his hood over his eyes, complaining about your “shitty curtains”.

As Heeseung left your apartment, quiet to not wake up your hungover roommates, you were left with a profound sense of not knowing what to believe or what to do. The revelation of Heeseung’s confession had messed you up. But the fact that he didn’t remember must about the event last night left you in a state of emotional limbo.

All you knew was that you could not fall in love with Lee Heeseung, no matter how tempting the general idea was. No, because falling in love with Lee Heeseung held consequences that you did not want to deal with.

After the night Heeseung confessed to you and subsequently forgot about it, you avoided him at all costs. Whenever he would send you a text you would ignore it, your heart would arche with each unread message. If you spotted him in the hallays or around campus, you’d change your direction making a conscious effort to evade any interaction.

Even the college parties that had once been a regular part of your social life were no longer an option. You knew that there was a high chance of running into Heeseung at one of them, and you couldn’t bear to face him under such circumstances.

Your once thriving social and sex life had dwindled, replaced by a cloud of avoidance and self hatred as you grappled with the aftermath of his intoxicated confession.

It didn’t take long for Shana and Dayeon to realize something was up with you, and this time, you told them everything. You told them about your not one, but two deals you’ve made with Lee Heeseung. How he had ignored your text messages because he had to deal with his family. How you hooked up with Hanbin. How Heeseung told you people think you’re a prude and shouldn’t be friends with them. And you told them how he had told you he loved you and had completely forgotten about it.

You could tell that your friends were angry with you for keeping all of this from them for so long, for months, but most importantly they wanted to help you feel better.

Dayeon spoke first, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I’m sorry you felt like you had to kepe this from us, Y/n. But you don’t have to go through this alone anymore.”

Shana nodded in agreement, “Of course, we’re you’re friends, and we’re here for you.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes as you realized the depth of their support. You hadn’t realized how much you truly needed your friends until that moment. “Thank you guys,” you said, your voice weak, “I’ve just been, so confused.”

Shana and Dayeon exchanged a knowing look before enveloping you into a tight group hug. “We’ll figure it out together,” Dayeon reassured you like always, “You’re not alone, no matter what’s going on with Heeseung or you.”

You felt a warmth in your heart for the first time as you embraced your friends, grateful for their unwavering support during the most turbulent and confusing time in your life.

You’ve felt better since you reconnected with Shana and Dayeon. It had brought you a sense of comfort and support. The weight that you had been carrying seemed a little lighter and you were grateful to have your frends by your side once again.

When you went to meet up with them at lunch, you could tell from a distance that something was wrong. You could see it on their faces as you walked up the table.

“Y/n, I have something to tell you,” Dayeon spoke when you sat down, eyes widened in a trouble expression.

“What’s wrong?” you asked your friends.

“Hanbin’s been going around telling people that he “fucked the college” prude.”

You felt your heart sank at the news. “Me?”

Both of them nodded at you with a disappointed look on their face, worried about you. You tried to calm yourself, feeling anger rise up inside of you that you hadn’t felt for months. You were tired of all the drama that came with frat boys and you wished you had listened to your gut and just avoided them all completely.

You didn’t say anything as you stood, storming off to the side of the cafeteria where you knew Sung Hanbin and his frat usually ate lunch. And sure enough, they were there. A group of guys surrounding Hanbin as he told them some apparently funny story as they all laughed along with what he said.

“Hanbin,” you call out to him. The table going silent as they turn to see you. “I heard what you’ve been saying about me.”

Hanbin looked taken aback as he glanced from you to his friends, “But it’s true though, no?”

You roll your eyes, “Actually no, cause I am not a prude and the sex with you fucking sucked.”

You notice how some of his friends have to cover their mouths to stifle their laughs, not being able to look at Hanbin as they did so. You could see the anger start to rise on Hanbin’s usually so-sweet face.

“Whatever Y/n, it was just a joke anyways.”

Your frustration boiled over, “A joke?” you snapped. “You know what Hanbin, Heeseung was right about you. You are a fucking asshole. So get off this little frat-boy-college-high-horse you seem to be on and come back to reality. Because maybe then you’d see how truly pathetic you are.”

The weight of your words hung heavy in the cafeteria, everyone silent as you stand up to Hanbin. His expression shifted from playful to angry so quickly.

“Heeseung?” Hanbin questions with a scoff, “Why don’t you go fuck him, too then, prude.”

“Maybe I will, at least he’ll be able to find the clit.”

Hanbin’s group of friends all gasp out into a fit of laughter as you walk away. You couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of satisfaction for standing up for yourself and defending your choices. You felt like you had some sense of control in your life, again. And maybe that would help make up your mind about at least some things.

After a storm warning that would fill the entire city and cancelling all classes, you found yourself stuck at home. Which sucked because you really felt like partying for the first time in weeks. Your sense of self was slowly returning thanks to the reviatlized connection with your friends. You were starting to regain your confidence.

As the rain poured down in torrents, your phone rang. Your heart stopped and you hesitated for amoment before you answered it.

“Hello?” you asked into the line.

“Hey,” Heeseung’s voice came through, sounding distant and shaky. “It’s me. I’m really cold and really wet. Can I come in? Please?”

Your heart skipped a beat. It had been weeks since you had seen or spoken to him. You didn’t know what to expect as you dashed to your apartment door and swung it open. You were met with a sight that took your breath away.

There, stood Lee Heeseung, drenched from head to toe, his hair clinging to his forehead and his clothes clinging to his frame. His expression was a mix of relief and vulnerability as he looked at you, rain drops trickling down his cheeks.

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice unsteady, “I’m so sorry for everything.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him, your hand tightening on the doorknob.

“I know I told you that I love you. I remember. I was just, scared.” Your jaw drops at his words, after all this time, he really remembered the confession. “But now I’m not.” Heeseung steps closer to you as he looks into your eyes, the most serious you’ve ever seen him, “I love you Y/n, and if I’m going to be rejected, I want to be rejected to my face– not by ignoring my messages or running away when you see me in the halls. So, there. I love you, and I mean it.”

You stand there, jaw dropped as you take in his words. He’s here, standing here, soaking wet and so vulnerable as he tells you his true feelings.

With your lack of response Heeseung starts to get antsy and begins to turn to leave you, “Wait, Heeseung,” you reach out and grab his wet sleeve, stopping him. “I can’t reject you to your face,” you shake your head at him, watching as his eyes drop to the floor, “but it’s because I love you, too.”

Heeseung’s whole demeanor lights up the darken room, “Really?”

You laugh, “Yes, really. I love you so much, Heeseung.”

Heeseung doesn’t waste a minute before he’s reaching for you, pulling your face upwards to meet his in a feverish, passionate kiss. It was a kiss that conveyed a multitude of all the unspoken emotions you have felt for each other for so long. A blend of longing and desire that remained hidden for too long. Your fingers tangled in Heeseung’s wet hair while his cold hands held your cheeks.

He tasted of his usual, mixed with rain and love. Time seemed to stand still as you shared the most intense kiss you have ever experienced. Your hearts beating in a quick unison, echoing the longing you had tried so hard to suppress.

You dragged Heeseung into your bedroom with you, no longer caring if Dayeon or Shana heard you with him.

Heeseung pushes you onto your back, stripping off his wet clothes, nodding at you to do the same. You both reconnect with him on top of you, lips meeting each others with a passionate fever. He lets his hand trail down to between your bodies, his fingers rubbing your clit gently.

“Daddy,” you whimper out to him at the feeling.

Heeseung shakes his head no, pressing kisses into your neck, “Just call me, Hee, baby.” You nod at him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him, wanting to never stop.

Heeseung leans back onto his knees, spreading your legs for him, he stares at your wet, core as he’s about to slide in his cock, “Shit, wait, do you have a condom?” he’s almost breathless when he asks.

“Just fuck me raw, Hee, please.” you tell him, eyes begging from it.

“Fuck, okay, baby.” Heeseung leans over to kiss you, “You sure?”

You smile against his lips, “Yes I’m sure, please.” With one more final kiss, Heeseung slides his cock into you slowly, letting both ofyou feel his bare cock sldie against your velvet walls.

“Holy shit, Y/n.” Heeseung curses, “Seriously, holy shit, you feel so good.” You can only whimper in response as you feel every vein of his cock go up your mesh walls. You mewl and whine until Heeseung’s completely inside of you, holding your legs still from moving, “Just slipped right in, so good.”

“Hee,” you call for him, your face completely blissed out from his cock. “Move, please.”

Heeseung nods, listening to you as he starts to thrust his hips back and forth. Your pussy’s so wet that it lets his cock move so easily. It makes you both feel like you’re in heaven. You keep moaning out, edging Heeseung on as he keeps building his pace slowly. His fingers find your clit, rubbing slow, gentle circles around it. He groans out when he feels your clench around his bare cock tighter.

“Fuck, you’re so deep, Hee.” you tell him, “Feels so good.”

“I know, baby, I know.” Heeseung nods, “Like you’re made for my cock.” His words make your groan out more. They have such an affect on you that he’ll never truly understand.

Heeseung’s grip on your legs tightens as he slowly picks up his pace, feeling himself grow closer to his orgasm already. Your wet, velvet walls keep sucking him in with every thrust, tightening around him everytime his thumb swivels against your swollen clit.

“God, yes, fuck your pussy, Heeseung, yes,” you nod at him, grip tightening on the sheets as he fucks deeper and deeper into you.

“Fuck, who’s pussy is it?”

“Yours, Hee, all yours.”

Heeseung grunts out, eyes closing as he fucks you. His thrusts are getting sloppier, never feeling so good before. Your wall just keep sucking him in, wanting to keep him inside of you.

“Are you gonna cum?” You ask him, recognizing when he’s close by now.

“Not without you, baby, please cum on my cock, wanna feel it bare.” Heeseung nods, his thumb circling your clit harder and faster and he keeps thrusting his dick inside of you. In and out with his just his hips rolling so perfectly.

“Fuck!” you cry out, “I’m gonna cum, don’t stop.”

“I won’t, baby, just cum, I got you, just let go.” Heeseung’s voice is stern when he speaks, despite his chest heaving so quickly.

With his words, you hit your climax, a high pitch moan coming out of your mouth before Heeseung covers your mouth with his hand, trying to keep you quiet for the sake of your roommates. Your orgasm has you shaking, soaking Heeseung’s bare cock while he fucks you through it, feeling your wells throb around him, edging him on to his own orgasm.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” Heeseung shakes his head at you.

“Want you to cum, Heeseung– wanna feel your cum in my pussy.” you tell him, your hands holding onto his forearms as he leans over you, dropping your legs and holding himself up on the bed. “Please, wanna feel it drip out of me so bad.”

“Oh God, oh God, fuck, baby-,” Heeseung finally cums, throwing his head back as he reaches his climax, feeling completely blissed out. You keep moaning as you feel his cum shoot up inside of you for the first time. The warmth spreading over your walls. “I love you,” Heeseung leans down to kiss you, his lips not leaving yours until you push him away for air.

“I love you, too.”

Heeseung very slowly pulls out of you, both of you watching as his white cum starts to dribble out of you. Heeseung groans as he watches your swollen pussy leak his cum, thinking to himself that he’ll never get use the sight of it. He scoops up his cum and you open your mouth, already knwoing by now what he wants you to do. You hum around his fingers as you drink the substance off of them. Your tongue circles his fingers, making him tell you to stop or he’ll get hard again.

When you’ve calmed down, Heeseung lifts you and brings you to the shower with him. He tells you that he’s been wanting to shower with you and take care of after sex for so long now, but he was scared. You reassure him that there’s nothing to be scared of now. That it’s him and you and that you love each other.

Heeseung does what he’s always wanted to do, washes your body after he ruins you, wanting to take care of you. He kisses all over your body as he cleans you, whispering about how much he loves you over the shower water running.

And you let him fuck you again after, up against the shower wall. The slowest, loveliest sex you’ve ever had. His hands carressing every part of you as he tells you what a beautiful girl you are and how he’s so lucky to have you, so lucky to be able to fuck your pussy. How he never wants to lose you.

And when he’s done cleaning you up again, you lay in your bed together, warm as outside thunders and rains so heavily. You lay in each others embrace as your souls finally connect together in peace.

“You know,” you start, “did you really believe the rumour that I was a prude before you met me?”

Heeseung shrugs, “Yeah, I guess.” You gasp playfully at his answer. “What? You believed the rumour that I had a daddy kink.”

“What?”

“I mean, I never even tried that whole daddy think until I met you– I thought you had the daddy kink.”

Your jaw remains open at his words, “I can’t believe you right now, Hee.”

Heeseung laughs as he pulls you closer into his chest under the covers, “C’mere, baby, let daddy take care of you.”

“Heeseung!”

Your bedroom is filled with laughter as you continued to talk about all the wasted time you two could have shared together if neither of you were so scared and stubborn. The rain was still pouring outside, trapping the two of you in your bedroom for days. With your hands intertwined and hearts pounding together.

Neither of you know what will happen when people find out the college prude is dating the notorious frat president, but neither of you cared, finding complete solace in each other. As you keep each other close, you know that you were no longer fighting the riptides of uncertainty alone, but together you will navigate the waters. Your connection was stronger than ever as you brace yourselves for whatever might happen in the unpredictable currents of life.

@ taeghi, 2023. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

stay safe everyone :)

#smut #enhypen #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #heeseung #hanbin

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iluvmattsbeard · 1 month

Text

where were you? (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

VERY STRONG WARNING: SELF HARM/angst/swearing

(please do not read if you are highly sensitive with this subject.)

preview: you were the new student at school. you kept to yourself which caught Matt's eye. he was determined to figure you out.

A/N: this one hits close to home. if you are struggling with your mental health, know you are not alone. you are here for a reason. these type of emotions are tricky to figure out and no one should have to deal with them all by themselves. YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN YOU THINK. I thank the triplets for bringing me back to life, especially Matt for shining light on the subject and being so genuine. - L🤍

it was early in the morning at school. you just moved to Boston a few weeks ago. you were suppose to start school right away but you couldn't find the strength to do so. you were dreading being in a new environment and meeting new people. today, you had no choice but to show up. the school was blowing up your grandparents phones asking when you will be coming in. so today, you finally showed up.

you walked into the school's office getting your schedule. "name?" the lady at the front desk asks. "y/n l/n" you spoke out quietly looking around. she nods as she looks through a drawer pulling out a small sheet of paper, also grabbing a map. she hands you them as she speaks, "welcome to our school. enjoy your first day!" she says with a warm smile. you give a weak closed mouth smile as you thank her.

you look at the map as you find your way to your first class. taking small steps as possible still dreading being there. you finally stop in front of the classroom door as you put your hand on the handle gently, taking a small breather before stepping inside.

as soon as you walk in, all eyes land on you. you stand there uncomfortably with your heart racing fast. you took their looks feeling judged already. "hello! you must be y/n. correct?" you nod. "great. nice having you here. you may take a seat anywhere." you try to avoid looking around as you make your way straight to the back, sitting in an empty seat. you sat next to a brown haired boy not really paying attention to his face. "hey" you hear him whisper. you turn to look at him automatically catching his blue eyes. "hi" you whisper back looking away after. "i'm Matt" he says still having his eyes on you. as you don't respond, he continues to speak, "uh... I just wanted to introduce myself since we'll be sitting next to each other for the rest of the quarter. we usually do lots of partner work so, I was just hoping to get to know you so this isn't awkward."

you look at him with a blank stare. you appreciated his effort. "I'm y/n" you respond. he gives a soft smile as he looks at the paper laying on your desk. "can I take a look?" he asks pointing at your schedule. you nod sliding it over to him. "I can help show you around." he offers looking up from the paper and back towards you. you shake your head a bit before speaking, "no it's fine." grabbing your schedule. "i'll figure it out." "well I would like to anyways to make you feel comfortable." he suggests. you knew he wasn't going to stop pushing so you later on agree.

Matt walked with you during every passing period before lunch. he showed you where the bathrooms were, where the library was, and where the cafeteria was before walking you to your next class. the last class before lunch. "that actually helps a lot" you tell him with the same weak smile from earlier. "i'm glad" he says with a smile before walking away. you walk into class as you sit down looking at the clock already wanting the time to go faster.

*time skips*

you were finally home as you stand in front of your bathroom mirror sighing. you looked at yourself for a bit. analyzing your face noticing your heavy eye bags. you suffered from the worst insomnia. every night you felt yourself being so tired. but when you shut your eyes, your mind keeps you awake with thoughts you wish you could avoid.

“y/n?” you hear your grandmother say behind the door as she knocks. you open the door revealing her with a gentle smile. “hi y/n. how was school?” she asks. “it went great.” you reply lying through your teeth. you had no choice but to lie. you didn’t feel the need to throw your negativity onto her. you always kept your own thoughts to yourself. especially around your grandparents. you didn’t want to worry them or push them away. they were all you had since your parents disappeared with no warning a few years ago. that’s when everything went down hill for you.

you had this repetitive thought in your head telling you how much of a disappointment you were that even your own parents couldn’t stay. you slowly lost yourself and your ability to socialize.

when night time came around, you laid in bed in the pitch black dark as you let out a soft sigh shutting your eyes. you were practically begging at this point for a good night’s rest. but you couldn’t. you open your eyes as you get up and walk to the bathroom locking it. you opened the drawer and focus your eye on something you were use to. picking it up and letting out a shaky breath.

*time skips*

it’s been a few days now since you’ve been at school. every day had you feeling drained. you even still felt like you were being constantly judged even though people’s stares soon disappeared. you still felt the need to be on your toes. it was lunch time. you walked out of class as you see Matt. “hey y/n. you want to join me for lunch?” he asks. you avoid eye contact with him walking as you speak, “i guess” he nods with a smile as he starts talking about how his day has been so far with you just listening.

*time skips*

you and Matt have been talking more at school. you told him where you were before moving to Boston, you shared common interests, and he talked about his brothers a lot. you were slowly getting used to having him around.

as you and Matt sit in class, you both just sat there doing your work. it was pretty silent in class indicating everyone was focused. you were minding your business until one of your classmates accidentally bumped into your table causing your phone to fall onto the ground. you lean down in your chair reaching for your it as the sleeve of your hoodies goes up slightly. Matt also went to reach for your phone but he stopped himself when he catches a glimpse of your slightly raised sleeve.

Matt’s POV

when i almost reached down to pick up y/n’s phone, i can’t help but notice her sleeve going up a bit revealing her wrist covered in red slits. it stopped me in my tracks as i sat there in shock. she didn’t notice at all that i seen. i look away as i continue to do my work, or pretend, having the image stuck on my mind. why would she do that?

End of Matt’s POV

when school finally ends, you walk out the doors as you get stopped by Matt. “hey y/n!” you turn to look at him. “oh hi” you respond. “you said you walk home so, can i give you a ride?” he asks. “no it’s okay. i like to walk.” you reply with a blank stare. Matt has now been eyeing you closely after what happened.

“come on” he says grabbing your hand softly with a slight smile pulling you to where his car is. “Matt seriously it’s no problem” you say. he opens the door for you looking at you before speaking, “get in” you step inside his car thanking him. “well that was nice of him”you thought to yourself.

the car ride was mostly silent as the only sound playing was his music slightly low. you notice he would glance at you from time to time. after a bit, he pulls up in front of your house putting the car in park. “thank you Matt. i really appreciate it.” you spoke looking at him. “anytime y/n.” he responds smiling. before you completely got out the car he stops you. “oh wait.” you turn around to look at him again. “is it okay to ask for your number?” he asks hoping you would say yes. “um.. sure.” you reply hesitantly. you never really gave anybody your number before. but Matt has been the first to ask for your number in the first place. he hands you his phone and you type it in. he thanks you with a smile and you just nod before going inside.

it was later in the night when you found yourself on your bathroom floor with a blank face. you look down and lift up your sleeves as you flinch a bit from the fabric sticking onto your fresh cuts. you looked at it feeling numb. you had your reasons for doing what you did. but nobody seemed to care to ask. you hid it from your grandparents because you didn’t want to crush them. they basically raised you when your parents couldn’t. they didn’t need to feel like they failed because that’s far from the truth. they did everything right. you just truly were stuck in your own head. that’s why the only comfort you were use to was picking up your razor blade.

you sigh as you let your thoughts consume you. you didn’t want to feel this way anymore. you just wanted to escape from your own head. you pick up the blade but hear your phone buzz.

unknown number

‘hey y/n it’s matt’

you pick up your phone as you reply back.

Y/N

‘hi matt’

as soon as you know it, you two were texting all night distracting you before going to bed.

*time skips*

it’s been quite some time now you’ve been in Boston. even though you had Matt, every single day that goes by got you feeling weaker and weaker. Matt would distract you sometimes. he still had no clue what you’ve been going through. besides the one time he’s seen it but never brought it up.

Matt’s POV

i showed up to school anticipating excitement knowing i get to see y/n. she’s honestly the best person to talk to. it still crosses my mind the thought of her hurting herself but lately i haven’t seen any other signs. but when i arrived to class, she wasn’t there.

Matt

‘where are you?’

i text her but i get no response. i decided to wait and not think much of it until i realized she wasn’t texting back all day.

Matt

‘y/n are you okay?’

‘answer me y/n’

‘why aren’t you at school? why aren’t you replying?’

no response.

when school ends, i decided to get in my car and drive to her house. it was starting to scare me.

End of Matt’s POV

you sat on your bathroom floor with your head leaned against your bath tub, looking at the ceiling. your door wasn’t closed all the way so when Matt walked into your room and saw you in your bathroom, he felt his heart drop. you turned your head as you sat up, “Matt? how’d you get in here?” you ask confused. he walks up to you as he shuts the bathroom door.

“your grandma let me in.” he says. “why weren’t you responding to my texts? what’s wrong?” he asks. you avoid eye contact as you speak, “sorry. just didn’t feel like going.” all he does is stare at you before sitting down in front of you. “talk to me” he says quietly not pulling his eyes away from you. “there’s nothing to talk about?” you say in a confused tone. “clearly there is. i know you don’t like school but you will show up. how come not today?” he questions. “like i said, i didn’t feel like going.” you respond looking at your hands. “are you at least okay?” Matt asks with worry plastered on his face.

“of course i am” you say looking at him with a weak smile. “why wouldn’t i be?” he stays silent as he grabs your hand softly. taking his other hand to raise your sleeve slowly, with him looking at it frozen. you yank your hand away as you get up pulling the sleeve back down.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask as you feel yourself heat up. he stands up as well before speaking, “y/n why didn’t you tell me?” “what was there to tell you Matt?” you say in annoyance. “you doing that y/n. why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks with a somber face. “i saw them before in class when you reached for your phone. i never said anything because i didn’t want to pressure you.” “what was i suppose to tell you Matt?!” you say raising your voice. “it’s none of your business or your concern!”

“y/n please talk to me. i’m worried about you.” he says trying to grab your hand but you step back. “don’t touch me! i don’t need you feeling sorry for me.” you tell him. “i care about you. i get you like to keep things to yourself but i’m hear to listen.” he says. you let out a scoff, “this is unbelievable.” you say. “what’s so unbelievable about me wanting to be here for you?” you look at him with your face burning up from rage after his response. “i didn’t ask for you to be here! you should’ve minded your own business.” you exclaim. “i felt like i needed to be here y/n. for you. i don’t want you going through this alone. it pains me to know you just keep quiet.”

“because it’s none of your fucking business Matt! it’s my shit to keep to myself. not for you to hear. it pains you? well how do you think i feel!” you yell out. “y/n please.” he says quietly. “no Matt! i want you gone. no one has ever been here for me before and i sure as hell don’t need anybody now! especially you being here telling me you care when you don’t know shit!”

“yeah i don’t know shit y/n. that’s why i’m here trying to prove to you that i want to be here for you!” he says keeping eye contact. “Matt just get out!” you yell. “i’m not going anywhere y/n.” he says getting close to you trying to hold you but you push your hands against his chest trying to pull away from him, repeatedly screaming out, “get out! get out! GET OUT!” but he doesn’t listen and you eventually give into his hold as you break down crying with your legs giving out. Matt goes down as well holding you as he leans back against the sink cabinet wrapping his arms around you, embracing you in a hug.

he rubs your back softly as you sob in his chest. “i got you y/n. i’m right here for you.” he says reassuringly, resting his chin on your head. “i’m here to listen.” he pulls away as he lifts up your chin looking at the tears roll down your cheeks. he wipes them away and tucks your hair behind your ear. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i want the thoughts to go away and i try to put it into words but i just don’t get it.” you say sadly. he holds your hand as he speaks, “i know it can be difficult. i’m not asking you to tell me everything now because i know this is new for you. take all the time you need. but, i will be here. for you.” you look into his eyes as more tears stream down your face from his kind words. “you’ll be okay i promise.” he finishes, wiping your tears away again. you wrap your arms around his neck hugging him as he wraps his around your waist.

you knew you were safe with him. he validated that for you. “where were you when i needed someone the most?” you whisper out. “i could’ve avoided all this.”

“now they’re just going to turn into ugly scars…” you add on. he pulls away from the hug as he lifts up your sleeves. you gulp as he looks at them. he pulls your arms up gently to his face as he leaves soft kisses on your self inflicted wounds.

“don’t say that. when they turn into scars, i will look at them and tell you how incredibly beautiful they are.” he says. “you’re here for a reason y/n. these that will soon turn into scars, will show how you’ll progress to be stronger.”

you smile softly not even remembering the last time you actually let out a real smile. “thank you Matt.” you say. he smiles as he leaves a kiss on your forehead. “don’t thank me. i’ll always be here.” he says leaving the both of you still on the bathroom floor embracing each other.

A/N: i hope you guys enjoyed this Matt imagine. please always spread kindness and positivity! - L 🤍

526 notes · View notes

dulcesiabits · 2 years

Text

i’ve become the villain’s lover!

summary: You have the worst luck in the entire world to be transmigrated into a novel as some faceless side character, where the most notorious villains in the story won’t leave you alone. (ft. Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus).

notes: 12k words, scenario, fluff, mentions of violence, reader gets injured once, heavily based on my love of cheesy isekai/reincarnation/villainess manhwa

All of your problems started with the book your friend lent you.

You didn’t even want to read it at first, but you took the copy because she wouldn’t stop pestering you and spamming you with texts. The title—I’ve Become the Villain’s Lover!—was embossed gold, and the cover picture had seven beautiful men lounging around a woman with brown hair, the woman gazing wistfully into the distance. In short, it was so cheesy it sent chills down your back.

You really weren’t going to read it. But that summer night was hot and humid and you had nothing better to do than stare at the television and stir around your half-melted ice cream. So when you saw the book on the edge of the kitchen counter, you thought, why not? and opened it up.

If it was bad, you would stop after a few pages. But the television kept droning on as you read, and your forgotten ice cream was now melted slush in its bowl, and soon you were halfway through the story.

The premise itself was simple enough: the heroine, Hera Winn, was the treasured daughter of a down on his luck baron. He sent her to the city to make her debut, and after a series of mishaps, she ended up running into the crown prince, Malleus Draconia, who fell in love at first sight. However, the crown prince was feared by his subjects, and rumors swirled around about his fearsome power and his family. To make matters worse, six other men fall in love with Hera. The cherry on top? All seven men were notorious villains, feared by people far and wide for their cruelty.

You were still a few chapters away from the ending when your eyes started drooping; it was impossible to keep them open, even though you were dying to text your friend. It was deliciously bad, in an over-the-top and campy way, and you appreciated how self-indulgent the author was. Seriously, why would seven villains even fall for an ordinary person? It was way too contrived.

Whatever. You could call her tomorrow.

You closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, you found yourself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. Oh no. No way. This wasn’t what you thought it was, was it?

Conveniently, there was a hand mirror next to you, and when you stared into the frame, the face of a stranger stared back at you.

Your worst fears had come true. You’d transmigrated into I’ve Become the Villain’s Lover!

Shit. You were never going to read another book in your life.

Luckily (or unluckily), you’d become some no-name extra. You didn’t even show up in the story, so as long as you kept your head down and stayed away from the main characters and their messy love affairs, you’d have a nice, happy life.

Hey, maybe you could even use your knowledge of the story to make some good cash. You might as well make the best of whatever had happened to you.

The extra you’d transmigrated as lived alone, and had a decently nice house. When you had the chance to dig around the items in the house, you found out that they didn’t really have any hobbies other than reading and gardening. They also had a job working at the local bakery, judging from their planner, so you wouldn’t be lacking in money for now. You settled around the house, and spent a week or two getting used to your new life.

One night, you were getting ready to prepare dinner when you heard a thunk against your back door. Picking up one of your pans to use as a weapon, you cautiously opened the door only to be greeted with the sight of a man bleeding out on your back porch, his eyes closed and face pale. Oh no. You had to help him-- and then you promptly slammed the door shut once you realized who it was: Riddle Rosehearts, the grand duke. But more importantly, he was one of the villainous love interests in the story, and you really had no interest in getting involved in any of that. But then again-- you would also get in trouble if you let someone so powerful bleed to death on your back porch. So with a tired sigh, you opened the door to figure out how to save Riddle’s life.

When Riddle woke up, he reacted about as well as you expected him to react to his savior. He demanded to know who you were, asking what happened and what you did to him, and his hand was curled to cast some nasty fire spells at you if he deemed you a threat: in short, it was a warm welcome, considering he didn’t immediately start with burning you to a crisp.

After you managed to convince him that you weren’t a threat, he settled back into bed with a groan, and you spent the next few days nursing him back to health. After all, he showed up with a stab wound in his abdomen, and you were surprised he even made it to your door. The first few times he flinched whenever you touched him, but he gradually grew used to your touch. In fact, you realized he unconsciously nuzzled into your hand when you checked his temperature, but you were saving that revelation for a day he particularly annoyed you.

Riddle was not the best patient in the world-- he kept track of his own symptoms and checked on his wounds without your help, and he made a list of very specific herbs he wanted you to get from the apothecary. You suspected he still had trouble trusting your intentions in the first few days. Still, that didn’t stop you from falling asleep by his bedside keeping a watch on him (hm? You’re sure you didn’t have a blanket covering your shoulders before you fell asleep) and feeding him spoonfuls of porridge (partly because you didn’t want to take any chances with his wounds, and partly because you thought it was cute how embarrassed he got).

When Riddle was well enough to stand up on his own, you expected him to leave and go back to his dukedom, so you could also continue on with your life. But then he announced he was going to use your house as a hideout from the dukedom traitors who tried to literally and figuratively stab him in the back. Oh, no way-- but then Riddle added that he’d reward you generously if you cooperated, and you’d never been more than happy to offer him your spare room (or offer for him to keep using it, in this case). Somehow the two of you settled into a familiar routine. You went out to work in the mornings, bringing home leftovers from the bakery that didn’t manage to get sold during the day. Riddle managed the finances and handled any paperwork you gave him. He insisted he couldn’t just sit around waiting for you at home with nothing to do, and, well, he was extremely adept with boring, complicated matters. The two of you also tried to cook and clean together. He was absolutely hopeless at it though, and you had to hide a laugh when he tried to dump salt instead of sugar in your cookies.

He was surprisingly sweet. Maybe it was because he was reliant on your goodwill, but in the story, Riddle was a strict, arrogant ruler who imposed his rules with an iron fist over his subjects. The slightest hint of disobedience would have him personally visiting the offending person and making an example out of them in public... which was what probably led to people rebelling against him and trying to oust him from power. You could see hints of that imperious man show through; when he ordered you to do something, he expected you to do it without hesitation. Whenever you refused or talked back, you could see a vein in his forehead twitch.

Still, he seemed to respect you enough to back down when you stood firm in your decisions. He was easy to tease and easy to fluster, though you hoped that wouldn’t come to bite you in the ass when Riddle went to take back the dukedom. He jumped when you stood too close to him, blushed when you casually placed a hand on his shoulder, and he was always at the door to welcome you home in the evenings. He’d become a lot more fond of you than you ever expected, and you had to admit you had a soft spot for him, too. His eyes lit up when you brought home new pastries for him to try, and you noticed that he’d sometimes watch you gently when you walked around the house, though he looked away when you tried to catch him in the act.

One time, he came downstairs when you were dozing on the couch, and his footsteps woke you up. You waited to see what Riddle would do as you pretended to be asleep, curious as to what he got up to when you weren’t around. What you didn’t expect was for him to pull a blanket over you, muttering about how careless you were as he smoothed it down. His hand lingered near your own, so close you can feel the heat emanating from it, and you heard the couch creak as he bent closer to you, his hair brushing your face... and then he left abruptly, leaving you to wonder what he had been planning on doing.

Your cohabitation came to an end abruptly when Riddle told you that he planned to go back to the dukedom. You sent him off with some provisions and a tart you sneaked from the bakery, but Riddle lingered at the door, his face puckered up as if he was conflicted on something. You were going to tease him for how wrinkled his forehead was when he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, promising that he’d come back for you if everything went well. He ran off before you could give him a response, but you were too open-mouthed to even think of one, anyways.

Several weeks passed, and you were sure Riddle had forgotten you. It was none of your business if things went well for him or not (though you had read in the newspapers that he had miraculously returned and rather brutally dealt with the traitors). You were content to just spend the days peacefully between your house and the bakery. Of course, just when you thought everything was going well, Riddle’s top retainers—Cater, Trey, Ace and Deuce—showed up at your door with a letter from Riddle. They wouldn’t leave until you penned a response, but it took you several minutes to reorient yourself after reading what was basically a confession of love and an invitation to become Riddle’s spouse.

Okay. Okay, you had no idea how on earth this had happened; when had Riddle fallen in love with you? Had all the domestic shenanigans affected him more deeply than you thought? So you failed in your initial plan and had gotten involved with a villain, but you definitely were not going to get involved any farther than this. You liked Riddle more than you expected, but his list of enemies was a mile long, and you were not eager to get involved with any of the political maneuvering he did. Also, marriage seemed like a huge commitment after you had only known him for a few weeks. So you sent him a polite rejection, thinking that would be the end... only for Trey to conveniently be sent to “inspect” your town, or Ace to be waiting for you to walk you home when Riddle was too busy to accompany you himself. Riddle never stepped over any boundaries you set, but it was clear he had not lost an ounce of interest in you.

Still, you enjoyed your peaceful life and you were not in any hurry to change anything, not when you had made friends with a few regular customers and the store owners whose stores you frequented. Everything was seemingly going well until you ventured to the market one day to buy groceries. Unfortunately, just after you finished bargaining for some carrots, you heard some commotion from behind you. A hooded man was being chased by town guards, and passerby were either running out of their way or being mowed down if they were too slow, shopkeepers grumbling as they rearranged their broken wares. Well, that was unfortunate, but it was none of your business! At least it was none of your business until the hooded man ran straight at you and grabbed your arm, pulling you in front of him. He snarled at the guards to back off, or you were going to suffer the consequences. All you could think of were two things: one, your basket of food was now rolling across the cobblestones and you were pissed, and two, you had caught a flash of the man under the hood, and you knew who it was. Leona Kingscholar, the infamous second prince of the neighboring kingdom, and another villainous love interest.

Leona didn’t let you go until you were both far away from the guards, who were reluctant to let an innocent civilian get caught in the mix. When you were far from town, he unceremoniously tossed you aside and told you to scram. Maybe you should have just done what he said and let that be the last of your involvement with him, but god, you were starving and he just sent your dinner rolling across the market roads. So, because you were insane, you decided your best course of action would be to threaten him.

Out of all the love interests, Leona wasn’t the worst to deal with, he was just the most temperamental. Despite his strength and cunning, his indolent nature hindered him from being an asset to his kingdom... or so he led everyone to believe. Due to your knowledge of the story, you knew Leona actually desired the throne and had made numerous schemes and backhand deals in order to get the chance to steal it. No crime was off the table if it meant he got his hands on the one thing he’d always been denied. Well, well, wouldn’t it be a shame if someone who knew all the details of his plans were to leak it to someone, like, say, the local guards? You knew just where to find the evidence to back up your claims, too.

Reluctantly, Leona bought you dinner, and because he’s a prince, you milked his wallet for all it was worth. You didn’t doubt he’d send someone to watch you or potentially assassinate you if he deemed you a big enough risk, but that was okay, because you could count on your new buddy Duke Rosehearts to keep you safe. And you were sure to let Leona know that, too, because who wanted to mess with one of the most influential men in the kingdom? Could Leona really afford to start a diplomatic mess at this point?

That should be that, but of course your life wasn’t that easy. You had no one to blame but yourself for deciding to get involved with Leona. The very next day, you found Leona in your kitchen, casually demanding you make him some breakfast because he was hungry. Since you were such an unprecedented variable in his plans, he was going to be keeping a close eye on you before deciding whether he was going to let you live. Well, if Leona was going to be mooching off of you, the least he could do was pay rent and help with some of the chores.

It wasn’t easy living with him. He was worse than Riddle, because at least Riddle tried to help you once he warmed up to you. Leona expected you to do everything by yourself. Occasionally he would do the dishes once you made enough pointed comments about turning him in, or sweep the floors when you started waving the broom around like it was a deadly weapon. More often than not, he was passed out on the couch when you left for work and still passed out when you came home. He would wake up when you finished making dinner, getting up just in time to eat, which made you suspect he wasn’t as defenseless as he presented himself (and that meant you should probably toss your idea of drawing on his face out the window).

The two of you did not get along whatsoever. Neither of you could go several hours without making some sort of snide remark at each other, and every conversation felt like a battle of its own. Leona often commented that he wasn’t sure whether you were bold or stupid, but it wasn’t often someone tried to challenge him like this. He almost sounded like he enjoyed that fact. Maybe he found you entertaining, but it wasn’t like he was scary to you; you knew too much about the story for that.

Sometimes, he was gone for several days at a time, or came home at odd hours. Somehow, your house had turned into his unofficial hideout. You didn’t know what he was up to, and you didn’t care to find out. At the very least, he started walking you to places when your schedules coincided (something about being careful, because his enemies might have figured out his location? You were not going to ask about that). He would then watch as you bartered for groceries (you tended to get better discounts when he was around, because people were intimidated by his glare), or helped you pick up heavy ingredients for the bakery. Sometimes he would even hold your bags... only after you annoyed him with your loud, dramatic complaints over the weight of them.

After a while, the banter between the two of you turned from biting to something almost affectionate. You couldn’t pinpoint when things started to change, but perhaps living together for so long had softened the both of you up. You didn’t expect him to be nice, but he started to make things a bit easier for you. He gave you nice jewelry to either sell or keep for your personal use. And he started napping on your bed, pulling you in to cuddle him when you complained you needed to sleep for the night and he was in your way. He was a clingy sleeper and kept you in his arms until the morning. When the two of you went out together, he had a habit of reaching for your hand, because Leona claimed you looked like you’d get lost or tricked by some shady salesman otherwise.

And, well, when someone tried to threaten you on an evening walk with Leona, he pounced on them before they could so much as finish raising their knife at you. After Leona had finished, ah, dealing with that person, he turned to you tensely, looking you up and down and raising one hand to touch your cheek so gently you didn’t know what to do other than nod when he asked if you were okay. For the rest of the evening, Leona didn’t let you out of his sight and held you tighter than usual in bed that night.

One day, Ruggie and Jack, his trusted right-hand men, came to take him back to his kingdom for some scheme or another. Much like the first time Leona came over, they were standing in your kitchen when you woke up in the morning (maybe you should teach them how to knock on a door, or invest in stronger locks). Ruggie asked Leona what he planned to do with you, and Leona simply gave you a smirk, one arm possessively pulling you by the waist so you almost fell into his lap. Well, he was much too fond of you to let you go now, so he’d just have to take you back with him to his kingdom.

Your only question was: why? Sure, the two of you had been getting along recently, but you didn’t expect his feelings to take on a more romantic turn. And, sure, you were fond of him, too, but Leona had big plans, and you didn’t want to paint a target on your back. Besides, you weren’t ready to be a part of royalty and deal with all the responsibility that entailed. Leona listened to your reasoning with more grace than you expected... and then, on the spot, decided to conveniently create a hideout in town. He wouldn’t be living in your house anymore, but you were still going to be seeing a lot more of him than you did before. Leona never got rid of his habit of sneaking into your house, either, and sometimes you’d come home and find him napping on your bed. Also, you swore he sent Jack or Ruggie to shadow you whenever you’re out, though they were too smart to let you catch them.

Okay, whatever. So what if you had two villains who wouldn’t leave you alone? You could handle them just fine. Besides, what were the chances you’d get involved with another one? This time, you’d built a fence around your backyard to ward off any dukes in mortal peril, and you spent some extra money to get locks for your windows (though you doubted that would actually stop anyone, not with Ace and Ruggie’s nimble fingers). Also, you were going to keep your head down, and be a good law-abiding citizen, and-- okay, why were two tall men slapping a sign labeled “foreclosure” onto the bakery door? And did the owner just walk out with a man in an elegant suit, who gave you a slimy smile when he noticed you staring? No. No way. It couldn’t be, but it was: it was Azul Ashengrotto, head of the information guild, one of the villainous love interests, and the man who just put you out of a job.

Maybe you offended some powerful deity in your last life, because your luck was downright rotten. You really had no choice but to get involved with Azul this time, because you were not ready to go job-hunting just yet. Who else would be nice enough to give you free food, anyways?

Azul was your friend’s favorite character, and you only vaguely understood why. He was intelligent, handsome, and charming, sure, but he was also two-faced, manipulative and had committed numerous backdoor deals to achieve his position as head of the guild. He was one of the most dangerous men in the world, and someone not to be crossed at all costs. After all, he had eyes and ears all over the place, and was the man to go to if you wanted dirt on anyone. And while he could grant whatever wish you wanted, if you were unable to hold up your end of the deal, then you would end up in pieces at the bottom of the sea.

Underneath all of that, Azul was someone who had clawed his way up from the bottom of the social hierarchy, and would go to any lengths to cover up his past. While you briefly entertained the thought of blackmailing Azul with his secret, you figured it wasn’t worth it when Azul could just order Jade and Floyd, his favorite assistants and bodyguards, to toss you into the sea instead. Unfortunately, you didn’t hold the same leverage over him as you had with Leona. So, that only left you with one real choice: time to figure out why your employer was being put out of business.

Your boss, as it turned out, had signed a contract with Azul. In exchange for a generous loan to start the bakery, your boss was supposed to pay back the loan with a seemingly reasonable interest. Of course, it was actually a predatory deal where the amount of interest being charged was ridiculously high and guaranteed to sink your boss into a never-ending chain of debt. So, what real choice did you have but to try to make a deal with Azul yourself? If worse came to worse, you could probably throw Leona’s influence around, even if it meant Leona would demand some ridiculous fee from you in return.

That was how you found yourself working for Azul as his so-called secretary until you could pay off your boss’s loans. Though he acted generous and kind on the surface, he pushed you hard and expected you to put in overtime without complaint, dangling your precarious situation over your head any time you protested. You acted as the face of the organization, dealing with more normal customers (because, as Azul put it, you didn’t stand out whatsoever and would be perfect for the position) and helping sort through Azul’s less secretive contacts and papers. Eventually, you moved your way up to organizing his schedule, and sometimes he even let you talk with his clients in his place when he was particularly busy.

You couldn’t pin Azul down, but you knew that no matter what, you wouldn’t be able to trust him. You knew the deal you took was shady as hell, liable to blow up in your face at any time, and you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. If you tried to ask him a question that wasn’t directly related to work, he deflected. In the beginning of your time at his guild, the Leech twins would randomly pop in to check on you, watching you work with unnerving stares. Eventually, they got bored enough they would chat with you sometimes.

As loath as you were to admit it, Azul was not a bad boss. Sure, he expected a lot out of you, but if you rose to his expectations, then you were properly rewarded in return. Somewhere down the line, it felt like Azul started being more open with you... or as open as a man could be in his position. He never overworked you, and though his interest in your health started off as a logical investment, at some point, it started to take on a more... personal bent. He ensured you were eating enough (and maybe cooked you a meal himself), and even provided a room in his guild for when you stayed too late to be able to return home safely. He was always trying to convince you to sleep over instead of going back home, too.

You learned to toe the line with Azul, because if you got at least one reaction out of him, you might be closer to figuring him out. You sat on the edge of Azul’s desk as you delivered your reports, and sometimes it felt like he leaned closer to you. You teased and prodded at him verbally, but he always returned your remarks with a genial smile and brushed off your words. In fact, the closest you got to flustering him was when you told him he looked cute, which led to him dropping all the papers in his arms. Really, you wondered why he let you get away with provoking him, because your moves always got bolder the less he reprimanded you.

Sometimes you thought Azul was observing you as much as you were observing him. Out of the corner of your eye, you’d catch him staring at you, but whenever you turned around to check, he’d always be buried in one document or the other, though his ears were bright red. But hey, a great employee perk was that Azul had started inviting you out to dinner at fancy restaurants you’d normally never be able to afford, under the excuse of “observing some potential clients.” He’d even gifted you expensive jewelry, claiming he couldn’t let his employees look unprofessional, but he was always smiling whenever he saw you wearing his necklace around the guild. Floyd and Jade had even thanked you once for making “Azul even more entertaining to be around,” whatever that meant.

And then one afternoon, Jade and Floyd asked you to come to Azul’s office. You wondered if he’d finally grown tired of having you around and wanted to get rid of you (permanently), but instead, all Azul did was hold out the contract you made with him. If he forgave all of the bakery’s debt and annulled the current contract, would you be his lover? Sure, he was planning on using you at first, but now? He didn’t think he wanted to let you go.

There had to be some sort of mistake. Azul had fallen in love with you? It had to be a record to have three villains chasing after you. Sure, you really enjoyed his company (and the great employee benefits he offered), but it didn’t feel right to enter a relationship like this. Wouldn’t it create a weird power imbalance? And again, like with Riddle and Leona, being his lover would make you a highly vulnerable target. When you explained all of this to Azul, he tore up your contract without a second thought and sent you home. You ended up back at your old job, all loans paid off, and things seemingly back to normal. However, Azul had decided to generously sponsor the bakery you worked in. He insisted on stopping by with Floyd and Jade to ensure everything was running smoothly, but all he ended up doing was finding every excuse to talk to you and stick by your side.

At this point, you’d decided to accept your fate. Every time you told yourself you wouldn’t get involved with another villain, the world would just throw one at you as if in mockery. So, fine. Since it was all out of your control, you decided you wouldn’t even worry about it anymore. One day, while you were out in town, you heard excited whispers around the square. Curious, you inquired what was happening from a group of giggly girls, and learned that Kalim Al-Asim, the richest merchant in town, was holding a party. Everyone was invited, and there was going to be free food and entertainment galore! There was no way you were going to pass up on this opportunity, especially since Kalim was one of your favorite characters in the original novel. There was one caveat, though: Jamil Viper, Kalim’s most competent advisor, was another villainous love interest. Still, you had promised yourself you were going to do whatever you wanted, and you weren’t passing up this chance to have some fun.

To call the party lavish would be an understatement. There was a veritable mountain of food, an entire orchestra, and it seemed like everyone in the country was invited. You were in the corner, sipping a drink and taking a break from dancing, when you saw Kalim laughing with some members of the nobility. You smiled at how animated he was... and then you saw it. Someone slipped something into his drink. Before you even knew what you were doing, you sprinted over and knocked the cup out of his hand as a crowd of people stared at you. Well, shit.

Honestly, what were you supposed to do? Let Kalim Al-Asim, your favorite character, die? You’d read the novel, so you knew he survived an attempted assassination at a party, but you hadn’t suspected the incident would take place here and now. You didn’t regret your decision, but you were certain one of those nobles was going to throw you into a dungeon for your disrespectful act. But then Kalim took your hands in his and asked why you did what you did. He looked earnest, and you told him the truth: you saw someone slip something into his drink.

There was an uproar following your announcement. Guards swarmed the floor, and people ran around in confusion, and at least one noble accused you of lying. You thought about escaping in the sudden disarray, because you’d already done whatever you could by telling Kalim what happened. Before you could even take one step, Kalim thrust you into the arms of someone behind you, yelling at them to take care of you while he handled the situation. You turned around... and met the face of Jamil Viper, who looked less than thrilled by Kalim’s words.

In the novel, Jamil was Kalim’s childhood friend, and his family had been a vassal to the Al-Asims since the founding of the kingdom. Though Kalim saw Jamil as his most trusted retainer and loyal friend, Jamil was less than pleased with his lot in life. He would be forced to work in the shadows forever, doing all of the dirty work that kept Kalim safe in the sunlight. You remembered how many fans had loved their complicated dynamic, and how Jamil struggled with his decision to betray Kalim, who was still his childhood friend. Still, it was something you’d rather read about than be caught in the middle of. Right now, Jamil was appraising you, trying to determine your potential value as a piece in his numerous plans. You wondered what he would do if he found you lacking.

Without another word, Jamil dragged you with him as he calmed people down and directed the guards. He was terrifyingly competent, but he kept an iron grip on your wrist the entire time. By the time the commotion died down, Jamil took you to meet Kalim, who was waiting for you in a lavish parlor. As Kalim explained it, you had luckily foiled some assassin’s plans, but now there was the possibility you could be in danger. He earnestly grasped your hands and asked if you’d stay in his manor until they caught whoever did this. It wasn’t like you were going to refuse, but with the way Jamil glared at you, you didn’t think you had a choice in the first place. Kalim may have wanted you to stay out of the goodness of his heart, but it was clear Jamil didn’t trust you at all.

Your life in the Asim manor wasn’t that bad, to be honest. Everyone was generally friendly, even though you were expected to wake up at the crack of dawn to follow Jamil around so he could “keep an eye on you.” You ended up helping him with his assignments, surprisingly enough. There was nothing else to do, the servants wouldn’t let you help out, and you felt an inkling of pity at the mountain of paperwork piled on his desk and the line of people who demanded his attention. Jamil tried to stop you, but it was clear he really did need the help, so he relented. It was a good thing your time with Azul prepared you for assistant work, so you were efficient at organizing papers and managing people, marking down any important meetings or documents that required his immediate attention. You heard more than one servant giggle about how Jamil didn’t let just anyone follow him, so you must be very special (yeah, special because he thought you were connected to the person threatening Kalim’s life).

Still, despite his apparent dislike of you, and the fact he was almost as much of a hardass as Azul, Jamil acknowledged when you did a good job with a hand on your head. He never told you that he appreciated your help, but you got the sense that he did when he told you to take a break or asked a servant to prepare your favorite drink. The two of you really started to grow closer after you saw him paralyzed in the corner of his office one afternoon when you were bringing in some reports. You thought something was wrong... only for Jamil to point at a caterpillar crawling on his desk. You brought it outside on a piece of paper, and Jamil swore you to secrecy on his phobia. After that, you were the one he went to when he needed someone to dispose of any insects flying too close to him. It was honestly pretty cute, and you weren’t above teasing him by pretending there was a bug on his shoulder when Jamil was being overbearing.

Sometimes, you caught him in the kitchen, whipping up meals for Kalim. This way, he explained, Kalim wouldn’t have to use a poison taster. Jamil would offer you a sip of the soup or wipe off a smear of flour that’d gotten on your face. You’d swing your legs as you sat on the counter and watched him work. The two of you chatted idly, and you were always surprised at how easily conversation flowed with him: you got the feeling Jamil never had the opportunity to take off his mask and reveal his meaner, conniving side very often. And, well, maybe you noticed that he laughed when he was with you, more often than he did with anyone else.

Despite your role as his temporary assistant, Jamil never let you attend any of his important meetings. You were then left to hang out with Kalim, who was more than happy to make room for you in his schedule, or to wait for Jamil to finish. Today, Jamil was meeting with a trade partner, so you opted to wait for him, because Kalim was busy entertaining the rest of the guest’s party. Everything had been so quiet, you’d forgotten that someone was targeting both your and Kalim’s lives. It wasn’t until you were waving your hand in greeting at Jamil, who’d just finished his meeting, and you saw a look of genuine fear pass over Jamil’s face as something sharp struck your back, that you realized, oh. This wasn’t just a novel anymore, was it? It was your life, and the last thing you saw before you passed out was Jamil running toward you.

In the infirmary, when you woke up, you realized Jamil was holding your hand tightly, sleeping on a chair next to your bed. Kalim was there too, his face streaked with tears as he whispered that he was glad you were okay. An assassin had shot you with a poisoned arrow, but they had caught him, and now they knew the location of the group who had been attempting to assassinate Kalim. Jamil had carried you in his arms to the infirmary and had refused to leave your side for even a moment. You were safe now, but Kalim had to take care of some more business, so rest up, and he’d come see you again.

When Kalim left and you turned to look at Jamil, you saw that he was awake now... or had he been awake the whole time Kalim was talking? Regardless, Jamil looked at you so tenderly it took your breath away. He asked if you would stay with him forever, so he could protect you and dispose of any fool who tried to hurt you, starting with the assassins who had dared to lay a hand on you.

Honestly, it was a lot to take in after you had just woken up from an attempt on your life. You really had grown to care for Jamil, but you weren’t ready for further near-death experiences, especially when you knew the treasonous thoughts Jamil harbored would put him in danger. And while Jamil may be a villain, he was not a terrible guy. When you refused his offer, he let you go with little fuss. Of course, that was not going to be the last you saw of him, because when had your life ever been easy? The very next morning, you found Jamil casually perusing the bakery’s goods, telling you that Kalim had suddenly become very, very fond of the pastries here, and that Jamil was going to be stopping by daily to pick up Kalim’s orders. He would appreciate it if you helped him with that. The way Jamil phrased it, though, made it sound like more of a date than an official visit.

Fortunately, the next few weeks went by smoothly (if you didn’t include the men that kept vying for your attention with increasingly convoluted plans). You were mostly just healing from your injuries while Riddle, Leona, Azul and Jamil used that as an excuse to visit you and lavish gifts upon you. One day, there was a knock on the bakery door as you were about to close up, and you found a very beautiful man around your age standing outside. His name was Epel, and he wanted to work for room and board. The name struck warning bells in your head. When you took a closer look, you noticed that underneath his worn cloak his clothes looked finely tailored; he was obviously a noble, but why would a noble want a job? When you pressed Epel for answers, he hesitated, before admitting that he’d run away from home, but he wasn’t originally a nobleman, so he wouldn’t be useless at all! And then it hit you all at once: Epel was the heir and protege of Vil Schoenheit, an infamously beautiful marquess, and the fifth villainous love interest. You could turn him away, but you couldn’t say no to his puppy dog eyes and the exhaustion plain on his face, could you? So Epel took the spare room in your house, and you braced yourself for the inevitable encounter with Vil.

A few days passed with no incidents. Epel was a wonderful roommate (far better than Riddle and Leona) as he knew how to cook and clean and did his fair share of chores. It was a bonus, you privately thought, that you had more customers than usual because of Epel’s pretty face. The two of you had become fast friends when one morning, a fancy carriage stopped outside your bakery, and in strode a hooded nobleman and his retainer. One toss of the nobleman’s hood revealed Vil Schoenheit, a scowl on his beautiful face as he stared Epel down. He’d come to take Epel home, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer, even as Epel glared at him right back.

Despite the fact you knew the root of their antagonism, you still never wanted to be dropped right in the middle of it. The tension was so heavy you wanted to make excuses and leap for the break room. Still, it was hard to tear your gaze away from Vil’s face; a written description really couldn’t do justice to the most beautiful man you had ever seen, even though he barely spared you at glance.

It was almost funny that despite his appearance, Vil hadn’t been born into nobility; no, his father married into it, and despite all the gossip and rumors about their common origins (and Vil’s uncanny talent with poisons), he had clawed his way to the top of high society, bringing fame to the Schoenheit name. He had made it... until his seat was stolen by Neige LeBlanche, the new darling of the noble world. One day, while on a trip, Vil had spotted Epel working as a farmhand and, intrigued by the potential he saw in him, he made Epel his heir and protege. Epel was only several years younger than him, and accepted the offer on the condition that Vil would support his family. Epel, in return, was to help Vil overthrow Neige so Vil’s family could regain their previous prestige. It was supposed to be a foolproof plan, but was made impossible by their clashing personalities and stubbornness.

Really, you knew why Vil acted the way he did, but that didn’t mean you were just going to stand there and let him drag away Epel when your friend looked miserable. When you stepped in between the two of them, Vil finally took a look at you. You could see the gears turning in his head as Epel pulled you back and yelled at Vil not to do anything to you. You could hardly believe the words that came out when Vil opened his mouth: perhaps Epel would have an incentive to try harder at his various lessons on the nobility if he had a friend to accompany him in the manor. It sounded like an awful idea to you, but Epel’s eyes lit up immediately. You liked Epel, yeah, but you hadn’t even known him for that long, and you had a social (?) life-- Vil offered to reward you generously for your time and you immediately headed back home to pack.

When you got to the manor, you started to suspect Vil should have added ‘family counselor’ to the description of his initial offer. Most of the time it felt like you were acting as mediator in Epel and Vil’s relationship and trying to get the two to compromise on at least one thing before the manor burst into flames from their heated glares. You’ve had to deal with testy personalities before (getting your friends/suitors/villainous acquaintances not to strangle each other is a feat in and of itself), but whenever Epel gripped your arm and yelled that the two of you were going to run away, Vil would turn his disapproval in your direction, and you could see him considering whenever he should poison you or not.

Your relationship with Vil was... frosty, to say the least. You were only there to serve as motivation for Epel, and outside of that, he didn’t pay you any attention. You barely got to see him because he was so busy with his work. If you needed anything, then you would just have to talk to Rook, Vil’s right hand man and retainer. At least everyone in the manor was under the order to make your stay as comfortable as possible, so Vil was looking out for you in his own way... or he just didn’t want to ruin his reputation by being seen as a horrible host.

Really, you expected to wind up only distant acquaintances with Vil. At least you did until the evening Vil visited you with an envelope in his hand and asked you to accompany him to a party as his partner. Swarms of pesky suitors kept knocking on his door, and he was getting a headache dealing with all of them. So why not play the part of his lover while you stayed in the manor? He’d make sure you were properly compensated for this as well, of course. You had no reason to refuse after that, but the party ended up being a bit of a disaster. You couldn’t keep up with all of the nobles questioning you, and it was only due to Vil’s smooth-talking that you didn’t fall flat on your face. Vil had prepped you on what to say, but a bit of practice was nothing compared to all those judgemental eyes on you.

After that horrible first party, the two of you opted to spend more time getting to know each other in order to make the ruse a success. You ate dinner together every night and would spend at least an hour talking and getting to know each other. Something you hadn’t expected was how attentive Vil was. You only needed to vaguely mention you got cold at night and the next thing you knew there was a roaring fire and piles of fluffy blankets in your room. You didn’t even realize Vil knew anything about you until he had your favorite meals served during dinner, or your favorite flowers planted in the gardens when you went out on walks.

The two of you went around town on so-called dates to really reinforce the deception. You dined on a variety of fine foods you would normally never be able to afford, and Vil seemed to smile at your enthusiasm, even as he scolded you over your table manners. You held onto his arm, and he would point out nobles in the streets and all the pertinent information you should know about them. He was clever, and it was hard not to be swept up in his pace, not when you saw firsthand how hard he worked for his goals. He would gift you with clothing and tell you not to worry over the expense; Vil couldn’t have his so-called lover looking shabby, could he?

It didn’t stop there. When you popped up during Epel’s ballroom dancing lessons, Vil had you dance with him to show Epel how the steps looked, his grip on you secure the whole time. And he never put you in an uncomfortable situation; the second you showed any hesitation to keep mingling with pushy nobles, he left the ballroom early, or led you onto the balcony to catch your breath. When you were cold, he would pull his cloak around you without another word, his gloved hand warming yours. He played the part of lover so well, and looked at you so tenderly, there were times you forgot this was simply fake. When did the distance between the two of you shrink? When did you start enjoying your time together, and when did he start seeking you out during his every spare moment?

One morning, during a stroll in the gardens together, Vil took your hand in his and kissed the back of yours. You were so stunned you almost missed him asking if you wanted to make your engagement official. He hadn’t expected to fall for you this hard, and Epel adored you, so why not become a Schoenheit yourself?

It was funny to you that this was the second time you had been proposed to by a member of the nobility. And from two villains, no less, who hadn’t known you very long in the grand scheme of things. Still, you didn’t think you could handle staying in high society and fighting verbal battles for the rest of your life. When you turned Vil down (THE most eligible bachelor in high society), he only hummed and said he respected your decision. However, you discovered soon after that Vil had bought a vacation home close to your town in an effort to help Epel acclimate to urban life even though there were much bigger towns out there. You found yourself bumping into Vil far too often to be a coincidence, and you wondered if he asked his retainer, Rook, to keep tabs on you. Vil seemed to look more and more beautiful each time you saw him, to the point he might start blinding people if he wasn’t careful.

After your exhausting trip to Vil’s manor, all you wanted to do was rest and catch up with your friends. You had even missed your villainous associates/suitors, weirdly enough. You were sort of friends with them too, right? But that was beside the point. You had no doubt that another villain would stumble onto your path sooner or later. There were only two more you had yet to meet, and you wanted to enjoy what peace you had before the sixth one landed on your doorstep. Well, you should have known better by now than to jinx yourself, because the very next morning, you found a shivering, hooded man being pushed around by some local goons. After you scared them off by yelling for the guards, you went up to the man to see what you could do to help him... only to come face to face with Idia Shroud, magical genius and sixth villainous love interest. Oh, great.

You contemplated leaving Idia to his fate on the streets, but the way he looked so nervous and out of place tugged at your heart. He gave off the impression of a soaking wet cat, and you’d always been fond of animals. Besides, he had ‘easy mark’ written all over him, and despite his magical prowess, you were pretty sure he’d be targeted by another thief before long. So with a sigh, you started cleaning out your spare guest room for him (which had seen far too much use lately). Idia didn’t talk the whole time you walked home with him, and didn’t even give you a thanks when you offered him a mug of hot tea. Still, it didn’t bother you too much, not when you knew his past.

In the novel, Idia was a once in a century genius, born to a long line of talented mages, who’d practiced magic since the founding of the kingdom. It was pretty much guaranteed he would take over the magic tower, the central source of authority for mages all over the country, just like his parents before him. However, the Shrouds were infamous due to a curse on their family: no one was sure who first cast the curse (a god, some whispered), but the Shrouds were cursed with misfortune. Nothing ever went right for them, and they would never be happy. Idia was a prime example of this. His parents kept their distance from him, and Idia’s little brother, Ortho, died in an accident. In his grief, Idia created a homunculus using forbidden magic who looked and acted like Ortho. Ever since the original Ortho’s death, Idia had locked himself up in the tower to conduct research and stew in his grief. Of course, he was still a formidable mage who had no qualms about striking down anyone who got in his way, experimenting with dark magic and blatantly refusing any request unless it struck his interest.

For once, you were frustrated that you hadn’t finished the book before you were transmigrated. If you had, then you would know the solution to Idia’s curse. At any rate, you were certain the way to end the curse had to do with the heroine (wasn’t that how it always went with romance stories?) but... weirdly enough, you hadn’t seen her around anywhere, or even heard word of the crown prince being engaged. Well, you would try to keep an eye out for her, and hope that Hera meeting Idia would do something about his curse.

It didn’t surprise you one ounce that Idia basically holed himself up in your guest room as soon as possible. He refused to talk about what he was doing here, his past, or much of anything at all, for that matter. He only muttered that he would pay you for rent and his share of the food, and then kept the door firmly locked. Sometimes he would slide you some extra money along with a little note of magical ingredients he wanted you to pick up.

Idia wasn’t the worst roommate in the world; the two of you left each other well enough alone. Still, it got a little boring to sit by yourself in the living room when you heard him tinkering with some invention or the other in his room. You ended up sliding little notes to him under the door, sometimes accompanied by a doodle. You knew he read them, but you never got a response back. It became a habit, actually. You would slide a note under his door before work and then be on your way.

But one day, you got a response. You had simply asked what he wanted for dinner before you left for your shift in the morning, and in the evening, there was a reply waiting right outside his door. “Something sweet,” he had written. You smiled, a bit delighted that he finally replied. From then on, the two of you started exchanging notes. It gave you something to look forward to in the evenings; when you got home, there would be a piece of paper waiting for you outside Idia’s door. The notes eventually turned into letters, and it felt like you had a pen pal... even though he was only living several feet away from you.

Idia slowly opened up over the course of your correspondence. He was surprisingly blunt and even a bit smug, though you made sure to tease him in return for every snarky line he wrote. He had run away from home because he didn’t want to take over the family business. He appreciated you letting him stay here, but wasn’t it sort of foolish to house a random stranger in your own home? (You had to reply that wasn’t it foolish of him to just follow you home with no idea of your intentions?)

One day, when you came home, you found no note by his door. You knocked on it worriedly, before you heard Idia’s voice for the first time in ages: “come in.” And so you did. Idia was sitting on his bed, looking down, and began mumbling something so fast you couldn’t hear him. You got the gist of it, though; he had cast some spells on your house in order to fortify its protections. If anyone with ill intentions, like a thief, tried to set foot inside, they would immediately be frozen stiff. And there was now an alarm system in place, and... his voice trailed off, and you told him that you were grateful for what he had done, which caused his hair to flare bright and pink.

After that, though the two of you still passed notes, Idia started venturing outside of his room more often. You could find him on the couch reading when you got home from work, or skulking in the kitchen, tinkering with the appliances which he called “horrendously outdated.” You even started eating dinner together, and it was nice having company, though Idia always retreated back to his room afterwards. You were now allowed to come into his room and examine his makeshift workshop, though you had to give Idia advance warning.

One evening, there was a knock on your door. When you got up to answer it, Idia cowering in the kitchen, you found a little boy on your doorstep. His name was Ortho, and he had come to take Idia home. Idia refused on the spot, though when Ortho looked close to crying and asked if Idia wouldn’t come home because of him, Idia rushed over to hug and comfort him. It was decided that Ortho would stay with the two of you and function as Idia’s assistant. With the arrival of his little brother, Idia admitted his true identity to you. You pretended to be shocked and promised you wouldn’t think of Idia any differently.

Ortho was extremely helpful; he did Idia’s share of the chores, and even knew how to cook, though you refused to let him do too much work. Homunculus or not, he was still ten years old. Idia tended to venture outside of his room more now that Ortho was there, and sometimes the three of you would play games together after dinner. Ortho was adorable... but he also seemed determined to set you up with his big brother. He always found some method to get the two of you alone for extended periods of time, or kept very loudly and obviously talking up all of Idia’s good points.

It was cute, even if it was a little troublesome at times. One of Ortho’s attempts led to the two of you being locked out in the garden. You gave Idia your coat in case he got cold... and then he took your hand in his. He couldn’t even look you in the eye, and started speaking so fast you had to ask him to repeat several of his sentences. Still, what Idia ended up confessing was that he had fallen in love with you, and that he was planning on finding a way to end the curse because he didn’t want something bad to happen to you. Would you be willing to wait for him until then?

Really, what could you do, other than squeeze his hands and tell him not to be a stranger? You would help him however you could! Of course, you were open about the five other men who were very energetically vying for your attention, and the fact you were reluctant to get into a relationship. Idia seemed a bit relieved at that (though you swore you heard him mutter an insult or two about the other villains), and said that was fine. The two of you could sort out your business on your own time. So Idia moved back home with Ortho, though the two of you still kept in constant contact through letters. Sometimes, Idia would teleport himself directly on your doorstep because he got impatient to see you again.

So you had adopted another villain into your little group. However, now you had some time to consider what the hell was going on. Where was the heroine? You had been so distracted by the whirlwind of events around you, you had forgotten the story’s original premise. It was the heroine who was supposed to catch the eyes of all these villains, not you. What happened? She was supposed to be engaged to Malleus Draconia, but you hadn’t heard a single word about the crown prince being engaged. It was too much to think about; maybe you would try to do some research of your own instead of spinning around in circles. You decided to contact Azul for information, who promised to get back to you as soon as he could. One day, while waiting, you realized there was a new hooded customer in your bakery, someone who looked a little lost as he glanced around all the baked goods. You headed over to explain things to him, and as you did, your eyes froze on his. Green, with slit pupils... the only one who had eyes like that was... oh. Oh, no way. This was the final villainous love interest, and the male lead: Malleus Draconia, the crown prince.

What the heck was Malleus doing in your bakery? You racked your brain, and remembered that he had a habit of sneaking out of the castle in the story. It was funny that as soon as you had started to look into the heroine, he appeared in front of you. Maybe this could be a good way to look into where the heroine went. The story had already gone off course because of your presence, you knew that, but it didn’t explain why Hera hadn’t shown up.

Malleus, it turned out, was interested in the various goods you had on sale. His eyes sparkled when you told him it was all freshly baked daily, and he was eager to take the samples you offered him. It was cute how he tried to hand you a sack of gold coins for a loaf of bread, though you politely handed the entire stack back and told him only one would be enough. It made sense that he was out of touch with the world around him, though.

From the novel, you remembered that the Draconia family had founded the current kingdom, and were said to be descendants of a great dragon who once ruled the lands. They were the oldest family and had established most of the nobility, including the Rosehearts household. However, despite their legacy, the Draconias were feared precisely due to the draconic blood in their veins, which made them faster, stronger and longer-living than the average citizen. Malleus had been raised strictly in order to succeed the throne, and he rarely had time to himself. Surrounded by people with ill intentions, and always having to put his kingdom first, it was no wonder he had fallen so hard for Hera in the original story. She was the only one who treated him like a normal person, and you found their relationship surprisingly cute as they navigated the trials of being a couple. Of course, he was still a villain at the end of the day, and would have burned the world down to keep his beloved safe.

When you waved goodbye to Malleus that day, you had not expected that you would find him wandering around the markets the next evening. He looked as lost as ever, and seemed to cheer up when he noticed your presence. As you walked around to look at various goods, Malleus followed you and questioned you on the purpose of each stall. You ended up buying him some street food and a little gargoyle charm he had been eyeing. Before you parted ways for the night, Malleus grabbed your hand, asking if he could see you again. You told him to come to the bakery anytime, and that when you had an off day, you would take him around again.

Somehow, because of that, Malleus Draconia started visiting your bakery every morning, and he would even come to see you on your days off. He was a pleasant companion; the conversation between you two flowed naturally, and his naivete was charming. You would often spend time walking around, chatting idly about the town news, as Malleus drank up your every word. He was intensely curious about the mundane aspects of life in your town, but he was also curious as to your life, too. You found yourself opening up about memories from your original world, even if you were careful to phrase it in such a way that Malleus didn’t realize you were a transmigrator.

On other days, you would take him to town and watch his eyes light up at children’s toys, wandering musicians and even the cats that lazed in alleyways. You would always make sure to sample some new street food with him, which Malleus insisted on paying for (you felt your jaw drop at the mountain of gold he casually carried around on his person. It was lucky he was so strong or he would have been robbed in an instant). The stores the two of you liked perusing the most were antique shops. Malleus would wax poetic on their origins and you would make up silly stories about their past owners, which often made him laugh.

Once, it had started raining on one of your evening walks, so Malleus had to stay the night at your house. As you prepared some spare clothes and towels for him, he unexpectedly drew closer to you, telling you that he had a confession to make. You tensed, afraid that he was going to confess his love to you, as seemed to often happen to you these days... only for Malleus to lower his hood and reveal that he was the crown prince, which made you more than a little embarrassed at your assumption.

On his head, though, grew two pairs of horns. It was a physical reminder of his heritage, and what people tended to stare at whenever he appeared at official events. He had greatly enjoyed your company over these weeks, but he didn’t want your relationship to be founded on a lie. It didn’t feel right to hide such an important fact about himself anymore. You admitted to him that you had sort of figured out who he was from the start, so it wasn’t a big deal. The two of you were friends now, weren’t you?

Well, after that, Malleus started sending carriages to pick you up and take you to the palace. His best knights, Silver and Sebek, always accompanied you (though you swore Sebek threw you dirty looks when Malleus came running to greet you). Malleus insisted on spoiling you, too (his personal advisor, Lilia, whispered that Malleus was simply excited to have a friend to invite home for the first time). He would treat you to entire feasts and show you valuable historical artifacts, and even offered to throw a party in your name-- though you had to stop him before he actually went through with that plan.

He even offered to set up a room for you in the palace, and to give you a noble title if that was what you desired. You’d never have to work a day in your life again (which was tempting, honestly). You almost forgot Malleus was a villain-- at least, you did until you complained about a customer bothering you and he asked if you wanted to make it so that they were never heard from again. You had stumbled your way into his inner circle, and if anyone ever crossed you, he would be sure to deal with them appropriately.

During another one of your visits to Malleus’s palace, you get the sense that something was different. Sebek and Silver were more alert than usual, and even Lilia was throwing you an amused glance every now and then. It wasn’t until you reached the parlor and opened the door to Malleus handing you a bouquet of your favorite flowers that you realized what was going on. Malleus told you that you had become someone unbearably precious to him, and he would do anything to make you smile. Would you do the honor of becoming his spouse, and the next co-ruler of the kingdom?

Well, congratulations, you thought to yourself. Somehow you’d collected the full set of villains from the original novel. It took you a second to get your bearings, and you gave the same spiel to Malleus that you gave to the other villains: you weren’t ready for a relationship, being future royalty was too much pressure, and so on. You practically had it memorized at this point from how often you needed to say it. He accepted it with grace, and told you the offer would always be open to you. Life continued on for you in much the same way as it did before, except now the crown prince would invite you on luxurious outings or show up at your door so the two of you could go on walks around town.

That was it... or so you thought. A few days later, Azul contacted you with a full set of information on Hera Winn. You’d almost forgotten you’d requested him to look into her, what with the crown prince proposing to you and all. As soon as you got the information, you rushed to her location to figure things out.

You found Hera Winn lounging at a cafe, a pile of desserts piled high and several books open on the table before her. When she saw you, however, she got up immediately, tears in her eyes... and leaned in to hug you.

Huh?

Before you could get too confused, though, Hera explained that when she was born, she had memories of her past life, and of reading I’ve Become the Villain’s Lover! She really did not want to follow the plot of the original story and, using her knowledge of it, gained fabulous wealth from various gambling ventures and business investments. She offered you some pastries while she talked, and while your mouth was full, said that she was so, so happy that you had come along and basically caught everyone’s attention. Now she never had to deal with them again. Good luck! Maybe the two of you could reminisce over your old world together sometime, hm?

With that, she left you, and you buried your head in your hands with a groan. You wanted to beg her to come back, but it wasn’t like she could take your spot now, not with all the villains so thoroughly in love with you.

Really, what were you going to do? The villains seemed content to wait for your decision, even if they got into spats with each other here and there. You could choose one of them, you could choose all, or you could choose none: the decision was truly yours. It looked like you were now the main character of I’ve Become the Villain’s Lover!, whether you liked it or not.

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trashogram · 4 months

Text

He Chose You (Pt. 2)

Lucifer/Reader

Rated E for the smex coming next chapter I SWEAR. ((Also there will not be any non-con in this fic, so please don’t worry. You’ll see when you read.))

Tag Requests: @loslox, @for-hearthand-home, @navierkalani

‘The worst thing they could be are swingers.’

Your heart was racing, and you felt ridiculous for how uppity you felt at the prospect of having dinner with your two elderly neighbors.

Normally, meeting new people would cause a healthy amount of anxiety in you. You’d grown up into a recluse and upholding social niceties took most of your energy. It was even worse to be in their home, and among people that you likely did not have much in common with.

These were personal reassurances that you told yourself after denying the first invitation for dinner with the Farrows. The guilt you felt, paired with the subsequent relief of not having to spend more than five minutes with your chatty neighbor, stirred an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Of course you’d been unable to stop thinking about what a wretch you were, how karma was going to bite you on the ass for denying an old couple some company.

And oh Karma did come back to bite you. Hard.

You felt like you were hanging by a thread at work. Three weeks into the job and you’d already been reprimanded. Even the memory of your supervisor looking down her nose at you from the other side of her desk made your eyes water.

“We have a ‘three strikes’ policy here. I’m afraid this will count as your first.”

Never having been fired from a job notwithstanding, you felt like the idiot your parents always purported you to be.

If you’d have just stayed in your hometown, living off your parents’ good graces and kept your head down, instead of prancing out the door as if you had self-respect and no need for a safety net…

Maybe things wouldn’t be so dire.

Maybe you wouldn’t be on the verge of having a panic attack at this very moment, feeling the anxiety and restlessness from declining the previous invitation tenfold.

With a deep breath in and out, you crossed the hall with the hesitance of a mouse approaching a snap-trap. You knocked on the door to Unit 606 with a shaking hand.

There was a moment left to blanch at the realization that you hadn’t brought anything with you. Like the shittiest, most thoughtless guest ever.

——

“You made it!” Mrs. Farrow held her arms out dramatically. “Come in! Come in! You’re right on time! Oh and you look lovely dear!”

“Thanks.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks as the door closed behind you.

The layout of the apartment was a mirror image to yours, but you were overwhelmed by just how much stuff had taken up the space. From the kitchen to the living room, the apartment was brimming with kaleidoscopic color. Antique statuettes of unknown deities, handcrafted vases and sculptures in-set with gems and gold filigree, expertly framed posters of old Hollywood, and Persian rugs beneath well-worn furniture were visible from just a cursory glance.

It distracted you from the unusually bitter, earthy smell that assaulted you upon entering.

“Wow,” You said in genuine awe. “Your home is lovely.”

“Aw, you’re too kind sweetheart. Too kind. Here, let me take your shawl - we’ll hang it up on the rack here, see.” She took your cardigan and placed it on an old hat stand before steering you out to the living room by the back of your shoulders.

There was a man sitting in a leather armchair adjacent to the couch. He was wearing a tweed jacket and his silver-blond hair had been combed back finely to show a pale, wrinkled face and eyes so dark they shone almost black in the lowlight.

He looked at you with interest once you’d finally caught onto his presence, and opened his mouth to speak.

‘Quack!’

“Lou!” You laughed as the duck came racing over on its little legs.

Without delay, the bird climbed onto your flats with an impatient flap of its wings, trying to balance while looking up at you adoringly.

You couldn’t help but reach down and pat his little head, murmuring ‘hellos’ and ‘how you doing buddy?’ softly and sweetly.

The man opposite you both smirked. “My wife was right. He’s quite taken with you.”

“I’m always right!” Mrs. Farrow called out from the kitchen.

You looked to the kitchen and back to, presumably, Mr. Farrow, an uncertain smile on your lips.

“Welcome to our home.” The elder man’s voice was almost hypnotically deep. His hand was outstretched and waiting. “Please excuse me for not greeting you properly. When you get to be as old as I am, your body does everything it can to make you stay put in one place.”

You shook your head. “Oh no, please don’t worry about it! I understand.”

Mr. Farrow’s smirk seemed to soften as you spoke.

“Please make yourself comfortable, my dear.” When he gestured to the couch, you awkwardly shuffled to sit down. Lou was right on your heels, loathe to spend even a second without your warmth.

The duck ended up snuggled on your lap after begging to be lifted as you sank into the plush sofa. And you were grateful, hugging Lou to you gently as if he were a plush toy.

It helped take your mind away from that spine-tingling feeling when it made a comeback — the way Mr. Farrow’s eyes glittered when he looked at you and his duck.

‘Oh god, they probably are swingers. And they lure in their targets with this crazy well-trained duck.’ You thought, punching yourself in the face mentally. ‘And you fell for it. Walked right into their den of debauchery. You stupid bitch.’

“Here’s some water, honey. We’ll save the stronger stuff for dinner.” You jumped in your seat when Mrs. Farrow appeared at your side, setting a glass of ice water down on the end table beside you.

You reached for the glass as its contents sloshed over the edge. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Farrow.”

Mrs. Farrow beamed.

“What did I tell ya, Warren? Isn’t she lovely? Just a peach. Lou is smitten.” She patted your shoulder. “And it’s Cassie, honey. Call me Cass.”

“You were right, Cass.” Warren Farrow intoned.

He took on a conspiratorial tone as he addressed you once more. “You must know, my wife hasn’t stopped talking about you since you met the other day. I wondered if she was preparing us for a new roommate.”

Heat flooded your face for the second time. “Aw.”

“Oh poo, as if you wouldn’a done the same.” Mrs. Farrow sniffed derisively. “Dinner in 5 minutes!”

Her exit left room for you to start a conversation, but you couldn’t find it in you to say anything. Mr. Farrow kept staring, smiling, which made you stroke Lou’s feathers for comfort that much more.

The silence lasted a little while, save for the clinking, crackling, thudding from the kitchen dining room. Aside from catering to Lou, you surveyed your surroundings in an effort to avoid bouncing your legs.

The Farrows didn’t have a TV, only a large fireplace that they’d positioned their furniture around. There were displays on either side of the grate. On one stood an oversized chalice with intricate, swirling patterns. The other had a statuette of a goat-headed figure sitting crisscrossed on a throne, one arm poised to reach out to the sky.

“Baphomet.”

You turned from the sight, head swiveling to face your human companion. He was eying you keenly again.

“O-oh, the statue is…?”

Warren nodded. “Baphomet. Conceived as a false god around the time of the crusades. Most people see him as a depiction of Satan these days.”

The association wasn’t too far-fetched, you figured with another look at the figure. Its goat-head and large horns were the most eye-catching thing about it.

“I apologize if the sight upsets you, dear. I hadn’t thought to remove it before your arrival.”

“Oh no, please. It’s alright.” You said. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s very interesting.”

The rumbling hum at your side seemed to signal approval, or maybe general geniality with your neutral response. “Are you religious by chance?”

You turned to Warren again.

“Ah, no.” You replied apologetically. “I grew up in a Christian area, but I was never very involved with the church.”

Warren nodded. “That’s just as well. The institution and its practices can be stifling. I was never very involved with it myself.”

“Religious artifacts have always been fascinating to me, however. There’s no shortage of temples and synagogues in this world.”

“Have you been to many? For the history?” You were genuinely curious.

The old man nodded again, stately and dignified even as he puffed up in his armchair like a peacock. “Cass and I are seasoned travelers. We’ve been to all 7 continents at least twice, seen the wonders of the world from the Hindu shrines in Malaysia to St. Basil’s Cathedral. I have a particular fondness for those countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. I was able to convince Cassie another trip to Rome wouldn’t put us in the poor house last year.”

Your little huff of laughter was sincere, though the idea of traveling to Rome - or anyplace outside of the familiar - sounded amazing. “I’d love to be able to do that.”

Warren’s head tilted to one side. “You’re quite young, I’m sure you’ll get the chance if you haven’t already.”

“Sure.” You scoffed before immediately falling into contrition. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me —”

“Dinner time!”

Mrs. Farrow hollered from the kitchen, stopping you from trying to come up with a suitable excuse for yourself.

Luckily, Mr. Farrow chuckled good-naturedly. He rose from his chair stiffly, legs visibly straining. “No need to apologize, my dear. But we best get going before the Missus comes out and drags us by our ears.”

——

All things considered, the dinner was perfectly fine.

The jitters never left your frame, but you had chalked that up to a simple byproduct of your skittish nature. The red wine that Cass had insisted upon you made you feel warm and solid, at least.

As did the fact that Cassie Farrow could hold entire conversations all on her own with very little effort or input from yourself.

“You got a boyfriend, honey? Or girlfriend? No shame in that at all. We may be old but by no means bigoted. We’ve been all over the place, seen so many things - what’s natural to you and me could be the furthest from, in certain places. Isn’t that right, Warren?”

“Men in Ancient Greece often had relationships with other men.” Warren replied. “Royals in Europe had extramarital affairs with different sexes. It was all about keeping the bloodline pure, but romance was a different thing altogether.”

“I haven’t dated in a while, actually.” You said. “It’s not been a priority.”

Cassie nodded, exuberant as she drank from her wine glass. “That’s good too! Plenty of independent women these days! It’s about time, I say.”

‘Quack quack’

Lou was beside you, red eyes locked in as he gazed upon you at the dining table. It made you giggle.

“Mm!” Cassie had a spastic moment. “I almost forgot!”

The chair lurched out from under the old woman as she rose and scuttled out of the room. It left you blinking, and out of the corner of your eye you saw that same smirk on Warren’s face before his wife had returned.

She had a small wicker basket in her arms.

“This is for you, honey. Housewarming present from your kooky neighbors across the hall.”

As she drew nearer, you caught a glimpse of the contents, some of which shone beneath the light of the overhead chandelier.

“Thank you! You really didn’t have to.” The basket was pressed into your arms and Cassie was back in her seat before you’d finished your sentence.

“Nonsense. It’s the least we could do. I still can’t believe no one welcomed you for a whole week!”

The basket was lined with shredded filler, and nestled in between were little gemstones and crystals.

“There’s jade and ruby in there, and I believe there’s moonstone as well.” Mr. Farrow recalled. “Is that it, Cass?”

“Yes, yes, and carnelian too. It’s all scattered about there, with the Scrabble and the socks and the hand cream and oh!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Forgive us honey, we saw that little rubber duck and just had to get it for you.”

There was a little rubber duck. It was a novelty type, with a tiny red jacket and a tiny black top hat.

“It’s a carnival barker. No, it’s something like that. It’s on the tip of my tongue.” Your nose scrunched in thought. “Oh, a circus ringmaster!”

“Exactly! See, what’d I tell you, Warren? She loves it!”

“I believe I was the one who suggested it.” His voice carried through the otherwise silent dining room.

“Oh well maybe it was, so what. She likes it. Don’t you, honey?”

“Yes, but…” You felt funny again. Tingly. “This is too much. Really. You’re both so kind but I can’t accept this.”

A hand laid gently on your shoulder and you looked up at a frowning Warren Farrow. “It’s no trouble at all, my dear.”

“The cost must’ve —”

“No cost, really. Gemstones and crystals are quite popular these days. You can find them all over. And the little trinkets are just the same. Given to you in good faith of course.” He patted your shoulder gently.

You swallowed, eyes once again roving over the little mundane treasures. Silken feathers brushed against your ankle under the table and you met those red eyes, sparkling like the crystals in your basket.

Lou was such a funny little thing. So expressive, he looked as if he were waiting as he stared at you.

So funny.

… You felt funny.

Perhaps the anxiety from before was doubling back, just like that prickling sensation. It was less of a tingle and more a shiver or chill as you sat there.

“I think it’s about time for dessert, don’t you?” Mrs. Farrow was saying somewhere far away. “You like chocolate, sweetheart? I made mousse, all fancy-like. It’s not as fancy as the kind you get at that restaurant downtown, the Ivy, but they’ve got fancy ingredients and such…”

Reaching up to wipe the sheen of sweat from your forehead, you felt heat coming off from between your temples. With a shaky breath, you slumped down in your seat.

The basket was gone.

Your chair was scraping against the wooden floor as it was pulled out from the table.

“Are you feeling alright, my dear?”

Wrinkled hands swept the hair from your face as your eyes rolled in their sockets. Words couldn’t get past the cotton-dry feeling in your throat.

“It’s the wine, the wine. Said she’s not much of a drinker, it has to be the wine.”

Cass’s voice was dampened and thick, like it was trapped underwater.

Or perhaps you were trapped. Your head was spinning, limbs heavy as if you were a puppet sans strings. You had to be picked up from under your arms like a toddler and pulled upright.

The next second you were walking through your neighbors’ kitchen, the door held open for you.

“Maybe we oughta call a doctor? Honey, can you hear me?”

“I… yes. I can hear you.” It felt like an Olympic feat, but you spoke clearly. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.”

You stumbled against the wall and strong arms caught you when your knees buckled. It was Mr. Farrow allowing you to lean on him, solid as a rock.

“Cass is right, you had quite a bit of wine.” He said. Another pat to your shoulder.

Did you? You could’ve sworn it was just a glass.

Your apartment was barren and blank, the smell of laundry comforting against the memory of that earthy incense smell.

“Get some rest, honey. We’re right across the hall.”

“Thank you.” You breathed, lying on your sofa bed. “Again, I’m very sorry. Thank you for the welcome.”

“Oh no, thank you.”

——

When you opened your eyes next, you were shrouded in darkness. The outline of your entertainment system was in front of you, and the kitchen at your right.

It was raining outside; little raindrops smattering against the glass. The sound was normal, no longer muffled until you were straining to hear it.

‘Well that’s good.’

The heavy feeling in your arms was still present.

‘That’s not so good.’

You felt perfectly sane and hysterical at the same time. It was like being caught in the eye of a storm. The danger had abated momentarily, but would begin again shortly.

Your door opened, and in your peripheral you saw a shadow cut across the wall as a new figure emerged from the hall.

You squinted in the dark. ‘Lou?’

The duck’s silhouette stilled as if you’d spoken aloud. You could feel something shift in the air, tension breaking through to your mind when it could not seize your body.

That shift grew stronger, sucking in the air around it until a dazzling flash and crack of light blinded you.

Lou’s shadow was gone. Or… it had changed. The shadow on the wall wasn’t a duck anymore it was…

Your blood ran cold as the man stepped into your apartment and let the door close behind him.

“Hello there!”

#hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel

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sugar-grigri · 3 months

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Nayuta ? Or Makima ? Neither : Nayuta Hayakawa

What I already find fantastic It's that EVERYTHING, absolutely everything in this chapter has to be interpreted in reverse. If you want to know what it's about, you have to interpret it normally. To find out the answer, in reverse.

How did I come to this conclusion? The first part gives you the key :

An unknown lady comes to Nayuta's defense: she's only a child, don't attack her! Open your eyes! Come back to your senses for a second!

And even though Barem is there to trap her, paradoxically, humanity regains its senses, not by seeing Nayuta as just a child, but precisely by removing her status: she is indeed a threat to them.

You've already interpreted it right side up, so let's continue interpreting it upside down

The fact that she pities Denji and wants his heart doesn't mean that Nayuta is Makima, or that she's becoming Makima again.

Makima has never felt pity - she's never even seen Denji at all - so having pity is already a step in the right direction.

The former control demon was so powerful but also so distant that she couldn't even distinguish between human and CSM odors.

As for the fact that she wants his heart, Nayuta feels it before searching Denji's memory. This doesn't mean that the control demon instinctively wants to capture CSM. When Nayuta wants his heart, it's because she wants to be loved, and it's such a strange sensation that she feels lost.

What's more, when she repeats the plan of her former self, in reality, the equation is not at all the same. Even with the same plan, Makima and Nayuta don't follow the same trajectory. Let me explain: making Denji happy and then drastically taking everything away from him is the basis, but the control demon's position is different.

Makima wasn't enjoying this happiness, she was completely excluded from it. Whereas Nayuta is completely enmeshed in Denji's happiness, to the point of being genuinely happy about it too. This happiness was brutally taken away, and that's what happened, but it wasn't the control demon's fault this time.

What's more, Makima wanted a family even though she had no idea what it was, whereas Nayuta has a family but no idea what she is. That's a different question!

Once again, this chapter should be read through a staggering mirror.

The fact that she sees Denji as empty again shows that Nayuta sees Denji more as a shell than Makima, who was obsessed by the heart, by Pochita.

Moreover, the chapter betrays this way of presenting Nayuta, she's not cold like Makima, she can have fun like a child and does so sincerely, it's not a facade, simply a questioning of her own person.

I know that everything I'm saying may sound strange, especially when, if you pay attention to the staging, Denji and Nayuta are constantly going round in circles, faster and faster.

So this chapter gives the impression that everything is the confirmation of a cycle that's closing: Denji realizes once again that he has no family, while Nayuta reconnects with her old self

But for me, that's a hasty interpretation: don't read this chapter, just enjoy the last drop of it, so let's get on with it!

When Denji tells Nayuta that he's her family, it's not her who tells him that he should be ashamed of uttering such nonsense, it's Denji himself.

Denji finds it ridiculous to talk about family without understanding its meaning, after all, how can a child who has experienced the worst crime of all, parricide, understand what it means to be a family?

It's precisely by wanting to become Chainsaw Man that he understands.

His father, his blood relative, was not a parent, he mistreated his child: a parent doesn't behave like that.

Pochita is Denji's family, and he has a blood link with him; he's even the one who irrigates his veins: he's his heart.

What is Chainsaw Man? Nothing more than an empty shell, a bit of an answer to everything, on whom we pin all our hopes.

Makima did the same thing: this unattainable thing, this hero of the underworld, I'm unhappy because I can't reach him, so mathematically, if I could reach him, I could aspire to happiness.

Nayuta has achieved it, but she still seems to be going through existential crises: this makes sense, because once again, Chainsaw Man is an empty shell.

Denji lost his family, his pets died, so automatically, the response was to aspire to something else, to turn the page immediately by closing my eyes and becoming Chainsaw Man because !!!! Because Denji wanted to become this empty shell

Once again, logically, he became one, because by losing his family, the happiness that filled him, he became an empty shell.

But an empty shell is not to be understood in a purely pejorative sense, for a shell can contain anything: humanity's need for reassurance, the great enemy for demons to slay, the means to fight death, happiness, family... and so on.

When Pochita asks Denji what he plans to do after he achieves his first dream, Denji replies: to be Chainsaw Man.

To be an empty shell, yes, but empty in order to be filled by others, just as someone who is alone would tie up with others, just as the control devil would want CSM so she won't be alone, just as a wounded dog would agree to ally itself with a child who doesn't want to die either…

Having your family destroyed, but still managing to move on while building a new one, being surrounded by so many people that you forget your own pain, surviving better together in a terrible environment - that's the Hayakawa family.

As we've seen, Nayuta talks about a happiness that will then be destroyed. It's a good tactic to follow this plan, because that's what Makima did with the Hayakawa family, but as we've seen, Nayuta is part of this happiness that's doomed to be destroyed, so she's part of this family that constantly dies, burns and then rises from the ashes.

Nayuta doesn't know who she is, but what we do know is that she has a definite attachment to Denji, and above all, she's trying to understand who she really is through this boy she wants to shower with happiness. The fact that both of them are empty shells who are influenced by the other, Nayuta adopts Denji's ways, Denji puts Nayuta above everything else. This action of surviving together, this intertwined suffering and happiness, is precisely what Chainsaw Man is all about.

When Denji loses his family again, his dogs and his cat, he pushes Nayuta away. Denji realises that being him, being Chainsaw Man, will always be accompanied by pain, so he tries to cut the ties with the last person close to him. He does this without even understanding what it means to be a family.

Yet chapter 155 explicitly answers it. The beginning of the chapter opens with Nayuta about to be attacked and ends with Denji lying there, cared for and safe. Denji may never be able to describe what a family is, but it is something that can be felt, the shared suffering and happiness of living together, and it is something that can be seen : being protected.

Denji's cycle is not to kill his parents, it's the cycle of neglect, of lack of protection. Denji's father failed to protect him, leaving him in the hands of the mafia. And what Denji does is fail to understand what it means to belong to a family, to protect others, because he has abandoned his little sister to her fate.

Nayuta also had her answer, she wanted to repeat what her former self had done, what was accomplished by one of her former followers, Barem : lose the happiness you've built up.

And indeed, she understood what she was: someone who belongs to a family, even when that family goes completely off the rails, and her first instinct was to protect Denji and get him to safety. Denji opened the door for Nayuta, who looked at him as an empty shell, and who then saw so much of herself in him that she protected him at the risk of jeopardising her own safety.

This doomed happiness, belonging to a family, sacrificing oneself - that's the Hayakawa. And when she realises that she too has become part of this doomed family, Nayuta paradoxically knows better who she is : Nayuta Hayakawa.

By inundating this empty boy with happiness, she also becomes part of a vicious, ever-accelerating cycle. Her dogs and cat have already paid the price.

Makima and Nayuta are right: happiness under threat is what awakens Chainsaw Man. After all, it was in front of a burnt down house that a new contract was signed with Pochita. And when this new dream came about, it was when a bird was crushed. The bird represents the cycles: Bucky who opens part 2, Asa the new protagonist who lives again thanks to Yoru in the form of an owl. Crushing it represents its end. Being Chainsaw Man means avoiding becoming that empty shell again by preserving the fragile happiness inside.

As Aki learns that he, like Power, will be killed by Chainsaw Man, the cycle of his family's condemnation, Denji is also finally revealed, confronted with his own destiny.

How can we put an end to the cycle of neglect? The broken and unhappy destinies ? How can we turn Chainsaw Man into an instrument of struggle ?

Will Denji remain the product of this cycle of neglect, watching his loved ones die in his arms, condemned like his brother to try to protect them when it's already too late?

Will Denji realise that when he crushed the raven, Nayuta was on his back, and that she needs to be in his arms, protected, to end the cycle? Will Denji finally wake up and try to be a bit less of an idiot?

And realise that to be Chainsaw Man, he needs a foundation: his family.

As his memories of Nayuta flashed past, Denji realised that he had put an end to the cycle, that he had touched with his fingertips a form of happiness despite the loss of his previous siblings. As he realised this fragile happiness, Pochita asked him what he wanted next: to be Chainsaw Man. Not the man who kills his loved ones, not the man you die for. The one who will protect this fragile happiness like a tower of cards.

#chainsaw man #csm #csm part 2 #csm spoilers #csm 155 #chainsaw man 155 #denji hayakawa #nayuta hayakawa #aki hayakawa #makima #my thoughts

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torturedpoetemotions · 6 months

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The thing is that Stede is actually not a mediocre man who thinks he's exceptional. YMMV on whether he's a mediocre man or not--I think that greatly depends what you're measuring by--but it's extremely clear that he doesn't have any illusions about who or what he is anymore, if he ever did. I mean consider:

"I don't fit here anymore do I." (1x10)

"The Republic of Pirates is no joke." (2x01 - said to essentially a past mirror of his worst possible self, both acknowledging that he didn't belong there before and recognizing that he's changed since)

"I am (a screw up). And I'm alone! Don't be like me." (2x02)

"I messed all of this up." (2x03)

"It recently occured to me that I (know nothing...could learn at the feet of one of the greats)." (2x05)

"I've been a failure my whole life." (2x08)

He doesn't posture, deflect, and lap up praise wherever he can get it because he thinks he's the greatest pirate to ever live. He does those things because he knows he isn't. He does those things for self-protection, and because the only thing he's starving for more than affection is validation, and it's obvious. He doesn't put a ridiculously optimistic spin on terrible situations and odds because he doesn't know how dire things are. He does it because he does know, and that's the only way he's ever learned to cope.

I used to think his attempt to fight Zheng Yi Sao was an uncharacteristic moment of chest-puffing, but on rewatch? It's really, really not. The man is devastated. He's about 3 seconds away from crying. I don't think he even thinks he stands a snowball's chance in hell of actually beating her.

It's more that if he got everything he thought he wanted, but it means watching what he really needed all along leave him anyway (his found family, his love), he doesn't care if he loses. He's self-destructing and perhaps he's also trying to show the people who cheered when he killed a man for them just the night before that he'd do it again, that he'll always fight for them so they don't need to leave.

#ofmd #stede bonnet

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joelalorian · 2 months

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Fall Into Me - Chapter Four: Until I had met you there was no sun in my sky

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: Mature, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling and pining for each other, but there's a little bit of progress. Tommy is the hero in this chapter. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad. Emily is modeled after my sister and JB is based on my dad, who used to try setting me up with his younger work buddies when I was in my 20s :)

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Thank you for reading this little tale! I did not expect all the love - my heart is fit to burst over all the wonderful comments and reblogs!

Chapter Three | Main Masterlist

Sleep evaded Joel Saturday night, his mind unable to shut down and rest. He spent half the night searching for words to fit what he was experiencing. The right one didn’t occur to him until nearly five o’clock in the morning.

Turmoil.

That was the perfect word to describe the utter confusion and uncertainty boiling inside him.

His date went about as well as could be expected when one wasn’t particularly interested in the other person. There was conversation, but it mostly revolved around Annica and her interests. She asked a few polite questions about Joel but didn’t seem too interested in his responses. To be fair, they were short and rather ineloquent, but he barely had the chance to talk about Sarah before the woman changed the subject. She was also very much not his type.

She wasn’t you.

That’s the part which caused the most turmoil.

Joel didn’t realize how quickly he was falling for you until he was on a date with someone else. It somehow felt like a betrayal toward you, even though you and Joel weren’t together. Even though you didn’t even know that he liked you, more than liked you.

This entire thing was eating him up inside, all your interactions since Friday, but especially the way you bolted from him last night. He didn’t understand what happened until he checked out his face in the mirror, your parting comment finally making sense.

Annica had kissed him goodnight when he dropped her off. He knew she wanted more, at least a real kiss, but he offered nothing other than a loose hug and brief thanks for joining him. So, she pressed her painted lips to his cheek for several moments too long, subtly trying to turn his face toward hers, before he finally stepped back and walked away. He didn’t even wait for her to get into her house safely.

To his dismay, she left a clear and distinct reminder of her on his cheek that he was not aware of until you mentioned it. His face burned with the feeling of being marked like territory, and the worst part was you saw it. Who the fuck knew what you thought of him now.

Joel needed advice, someone to talk this all through with. If the situation didn’t involve you, he would have gone to you for advice. You were so easy to talk to and he opened up more easily with you than he had with anyone else in his entire life. But that was out of the question for… obvious reasons.

Your dad was equally as easy to talk to, a quality you must have inherited from him. But he couldn’t turn to JB about this for the same obvious reasons.

That left his brother. Tommy would give Joel a good ribbing about all this. Joel wasn’t ashamed to admit that his brother had more practical experience with dating and complicated relationships, especially recently, than he did. It was time to capitalize on all of Tommy’s shenanigans.

Dangerously under-caffeinated and bleary-eyed, Joel made bacon, eggs, and pancakes for the usual Sunday morning family breakfast. Tommy joined them a little after nine o’clock and helped himself to the spread. He knew better than to ask Joel about his date in front of Sarah, so the younger brother made quiet conversation with Sarah as Joel sipped at his coffee. She told him all about her adventure to the movies with you and how much she loved hanging out with you, how smart you were, and how pretty.

A stupid grin spread over Joel’s face as his daughter spoke about you. He could feel Tommy’s narrowed gaze burning into the side of his head, which he ignored until Sarah finished her food and ran off to play a video game in the living room.

“You gonna make me ask?” Tommy grinned at Joel as he cleared the table. Joel merely quirked a brow and focused on washing the dishes. “Fine, ya ol’ grumpy ass. How was the date?”

“Was alright. She talked, a lot,” Joel emphasized, “and mostly about herself. We don’t have much in common other than we like to eat. The movie she picked to see was God awful. I’d rather have seen the other movie with Sarah.”

“Really?” Tommy placed the last of the dirty flatware next to the sink, watching as Joel scrubbed each item before rinsing it off. “Annica texted me that she had a wonderful time and hoped there’d be a second date. Asked if I could put in a good word for her. Guess that’s not happenin’.”

“There’d be no point. She’s not who I’m interested in.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying, and he cringed when Tommy latched right on them.

“Ohhhh, and who might you be interested in, dear brother?” The shit-eating grin on the younger brother’s face let Joel know that Tommy already had an idea on who piqued his interest. “Couldn’t be JB’s hot little daughter, could it? You going cradle robbin’ now?”

Punching his brother in the arm, hard, Joel growled. “I ain’t robbin’ any cradles, asshole. She’s only about nine years younger than me.”

“Oh, is that all?” Tommy teased, rubbing his arm to soothe the sting.

“Don’t get me started on how you almost got busted for statutory rape last year, dickhead.”

“Hey now, I’m just teasing. Don’t get your panties all in a bunch.” Tommy surrendered, adding a grumbled, “And you know damn well that wasn’t on purpose. That girl looked 25! She sure had me fooled.”

Joel nodded, heading out to the back patio with another cup of coffee. Tommy followed, stopping briefly to grab a can of soda from the fridge. The pair sat quietly listening to the sound of songbirds singing the songs of their people before Joel finally spoke.

“I feel like an idiot asking this, but how do you tell if a woman is into you?”

Tommy nearly spilled soda all down the front of himself, the question caught him so off-guard. “Whadda ya mean?” he spluttered, trying not to choke on the carbonated liquid.

Rolling his big brown eyes with a huff, Joel glared at his brother. “I mean just what I said. I’m so outta practice with this. I keep second guessin’ everything. I just don’t know…”

Taking pity on his older brother, Tommy refrained from razzing him further. He was intrigued by this version of his brother who lacked self-confidence, so different from the over-confident man Joel used to be, at least when it came to women.

“Just so I understand, do you want to know how to tell if any woman is into you or a specific woman?”

Brows pulling together, Joel stared at Tommy blankly for a moment. “Does it make a difference?”

Tommy’s lips spread into a wide grin, deep brown eyes sparkling mischievously. “It sure as hell does, brother. There are few key ways to tell with most women, but if it’s a specific woman you’re curious about, I may have some intel.”

The struggle to hide his overwhelming curiosity on the ‘intel’ his brother had was a losing game, and Joel relented, his cheeks growing hot as he uttered the words. “Fine. It’s JB’s daughter.”

The room stilled as the brothers stared at each other, the grin on Tommy’s face growing impossibly wider until nearly all his pearly whites were on display. “I knew it! You dirty dog.”

“Tommy,” Joel growled, drawing out the two syllables until his brother sat back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

“Fine, no razzin’.” Tommy grumbled. He waited a few beats until Joel grew even more uncomfortable. “She’s into you, too.”

Joel perked up at that. “That’s your intel? How do you know?”

Looking around the backyard, Tommy thought of all the times he’d been around and caught you ogling his brother when you thought no one was watching, but none rivaled that time in the kitchen when you stared as Joel pulled his tee shirt off to put in on right side out. Tallying it all up in his mind, Tommy was certain that you had a thing for his brother. And now, it seemed he had a thing for you, too.

The question Tommy had now was, would either of you do anything about it?

With recent history as proof, he had his doubts.

Perhaps it was time to give you each a little nudge.

“It’s in the way she looks at you, all wide-eyed with wonder, like she’s imagining what it’d be like to be with you. I flirted with her for nearly an hour one day and she never looked at me like that once.” Tommy smirked at the glassy look that overcame his brother’s eyes. “Well, that and the drool dripping down her chin every time she sees you.”

“Yeah… wait, what?” It took a moment for Joel to catch on. “Fuckin’ asshole, I swear. She doesn’t drool when she looks at me.”

Laughter rumbled from deep within Tommy’s chest. “She might as well do with as into you as she is. I’m telling you, pay attention to how she is around you and you’ll see.”

The brothers fell silent again with Joel’s thoughts drowning in you. If what Tommy said was true, then you must be hurting over the fact that he went on a date with someone else, more so since you also saw him on that date. Already feeling like such a dick, worry over you weighed more heavily on him this morning. He had to fix this, but how?

Part of Joel wanted to rush over to JB’s and check on you, but the other part was terrified of how that would work out, especially if your dad was home and wanted to know why his best friend was frantic to see his daughter.

Shit. JB. Joel still needed to figure out how to navigate that part of this entire situation. The two of you could like each other all day long, but how would JB react?

Joel envisioned several scenarios that ended with him getting his nose bashed in by your old man. He wasn’t looking forward to that.

“What about JB?” Joel finally broke the silence, looking once again to his younger brother for guidance. “If I’m gonna do this, I want to do it right.”

Placing his empty bottle on the patio table between them, Tommy nodded. “Ok. Let’s think about this. Do you always check with a chick’s dad before askin’ her out?”

“’Course not, but this is different.”

“I get that but hear me out. What if you try before you buy?” Tommy asked.

Joel immediately stiffened. “I’m not gonna just fuck her before asking her on a date. Jesus, Tommy.” Not that he didn’t want to fuck you… he most certainly did, but Joel wanted to do this right. He wanted more than just sex. He wanted something meaningful, and he suspected you would as well.

“That’s not what I meant, asshole. Ya can quit clutchin’ your pearls like you ain’t banged a chick before the first date before.”

“Tommy,” Joel growled again. Little brothers were the worst no matter what age they were.

“Jeez, alright, fine. You’re really into her, I get it. I’m not sayin’ sleep with her first. I’m suggestin’ you ask her out and see where this is goin’ before you go to JB with your tail between your legs, is all.” Tommy explained, already getting fed up with how easily Joel got his feathers ruffled.

Considering the advice, and ignoring his brother’s snippy tone, Joel bobbed his head in a nod. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“I’m full of good ideas, sometimes. I got another one, actually. Get your grumpy ass to the store and buy some new shirts. Everything you own is at least ten years old and worn down. You need to dress better if you’re gonna date a younger woman.”

Another point to Tommy. He sure was racking them up.

“Fine. I fuckin’ hate to admit it, but you’re right,” Joel grumbled, looking down at the tee shirt he was wearing. It used to be black and faded to a cloudy gray from years of wearing and washing. “You mind watchin’ Sarah for a while so I can run to the mall?”

“Not at all, brother. I was hoping to watch the game on your flat screen anyway.” Tommy led the way back inside the house.

Emily: Sounds like you need some retail therapy, asap.

The pair of you spent the past hour texting about Joel’s date the night before. Emily’s emoji reactions were priceless as you recounted seeing them together at the movie theater and she was pissed on your behalf when you told her about the lipstick mark on his cheek. The conversation came full circle before Emily suggested the retail therapy.

You: Omg do I ever. Mall?

Emily: I can’t ☹ Ed wants my help with the garden. Again. I swear, I hate this fucking garden.

You: Booo. How dare you pick your husband over me

Emily: I gotta go with the one who has the bigger dick. Ur girl has needs u know that 😉

You: Yeah yeah. Chat later?

Emily: You bet. Have fun. Buy lots!

An hour later, you walked through Barton Creek Square, window shopping with a chocolate smoothie clutched in your hand. Not sure exactly what you were in the mood for, you started with clothing. This mall was a bit upscale for your budget, but you always enjoyed perusing the department store discount racks. Tossing your empty cup into the garbage can, you entered the large store.

Somehow, you found yourself searching through flannel shirts in the men’s department. Stopping for a moment once you realized what you were doing, you sighed. There was no escaping thoughts of Joel Miller, even subconsciously, it seemed. Huffing in frustration, you turned to walk back to the women’s section where you’d find things you actually needed when you heard your name.

Joel stood on the other side of the rack, eyes wide with surprise at the sight of you. His cheek was clean, no lipstick mark in sight, you noted. Just the normal, totally endearing patchy scruff. “Hey darlin’, what are you doing here?”

“Shopping,” you stated the obvious with a shrug, delighted at the pink tinge creeping up his cheeks.

“Me, too. Obviously.” Joel nodded, rolling his eyes – at you or himself, you weren’t sure. “I could use your help, actually.”

You weren’t expecting that. He looked at you with such open hope in his eyes, you couldn’t deny him. “Ok, shoot.” Your heart nearly exploded at the smile that spread across his face, putting his dimple on full display.

“I can’t decide which of these to go with,” Joel replied, holding up several flannels. After a moment, he put those across the top of the discount rack and held up a pile of tee shirts. “Or these.”

Eyes taking in the details of each selection – he had good taste; you could picture each option on him – you hummed. “Have you tried any of them on?” Joel shook his head, the mop of curls swaying deliciously with the movement. “Ok. Go try them on. That’s usually how I decide.”

Turning toward the fitting room with a nod, Joel paused and turned back around. “Come with me? I need your honest opinion on each one.”

Brow furrowed, you followed behind him wordlessly, eyes straying to his backside of their own accord. He wore the same dark, fitted jeans as last night and you swore beneath your breath at yet another reminder of his date. No amount of staring at his nice ass could pull that jealous feeling from your gut. He went on a date with someone and for all you knew, it could have been the best damn date of his entire damn life.

Leaning back against the wall opposite the fitting room Joel chose, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and wondered what the hell you were doing. You came to the mall for a distraction, to treat yourself and get your mind off the man on the other side of the fitting room door. Now you were… what? His wardrobe consultant?

Helping Joel pick out new clothes seemed like the job of a girlfriend, not his daughter’s babysitter. Let’s face it, you thought, that’s all you were to him. Mood growing sourer by the second, you startled as the door ripped open in front of you.

“What do you think?”

The universe was a fickle bitch. It wasn’t fair that Joel stood there looking like the man of your dreams and you didn’t get to call him yours.

The first shirt Joel tried on fit like a glove, like the factory made it with his frame as the model in mind. The material had just the right amount of stretch across the breadth of his chest and shoulders, while hanging on for dear life around his biceps.

After ogling him for far too long, your eyes finally met Joel’s. “Looks good,” you said, the cadence of your voice not giving away the riotous flutter of desire flaring to life deep in your lower belly. “Let’s see the next one.”

Chocolate eyes sparkled with delight at your response as Joel slipped back into the fitting room. What you wouldn’t give to follow him in there. Already picturing it in your mind, you would slip to your knees in front of him, fingers undoing his belt and the button of his jeans before slowly sliding the zipper down. You’d wind one hand inside his pants to trace the curve of his cock through his boxer briefs before slipping the length of him out of the little secret pocket. Joel would be trying on his shirts as your lips—

“How about this one?”

“Jesus fucking nutcracker!” you exclaimed, Joel’s voice jolting you right out of that wonderful little daydream. So deep into the fantasy, you hadn’t heard the fitting room door open.

Concerned, Joel reached out a hand, his calloused fingertips and palm running over the bare skin of your forearm as you steadied yourself. “Do, uh… do you have Tourette’s or something?”

Bemused, you blinked up at him, head thumping back against the wall. “What? No, no. I was just lost in thought, and you startled me.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with having Tourette’s, you know.” Joel tripped over himself to make sure you didn’t think he was making fun of the disorder.

You waved him off. “Of course not.” Clearing your throat, eyes closing to recenter yourself, you counted to ten. The heat of Joel’s gaze like a burn on your skin, you opened your eyes and assessed his shirt. It was nice, a deep burgundy color, but the fit differed from the last one. You hated it. “I like the way the other one fit you better.”

The pattern continued until Joel tried on every shirt in his pile. You managed to keep your mind from straying again by making conversation.

“How did your date go last night?” You dreaded the answer but needed to know.

“It was… I’ve had better dates. She talked a lot,” he said through the fitting room door. “I couldn’t wait for it to be over, honestly. I just wanted to be home.”

“So, no second date then?” you confirmed, butterflies beginning to take flight in your belly.

“Hell no.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the conviction in Joel’s voice, but you tried not to let it show on your face or in your voice as he stepped through the door. “That’s too bad. You deserve to find someone great, Joel.”

He looked at you for a long time, his eyes penetrating like he was trying to tell you something without using words. You just had no idea what. You were about to bid him farewell as he paid for the shirts you chose – the bluish gray tee shirt that fit him so well and a flannel with similar hues, and two more just like them – when he stopped you.

“Uh, would you have lunch with me?” he asked shyly, eyes brimming with such eager hopefulness you nearly melted.

Part of you wanted to turn him down over hurt feelings he wasn’t even aware of, but you couldn’t. Not after what he just told you about his date. The other part of you screamed not to read too much into it, that he wasn’t asking you on a date. It would just be lunch with your boss. But the final part of you, the hopeless romantic who wore her heart on her sleeve and just helped the man pick out clothes like a girlfriend would, screamed that this could be your chance to get closer, that it could be a date if you made it one.

Fearing you stayed silent too long arguing with yourself, you rushed out a quick, “Sure.” Joel’s face lit up like you’d never seen before. He didn’t look anywhere near this happy when he left for his dinner date the night before.

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #eventual smut #mutual pining #idiots falling for each other

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winterarmyy · 11 months

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Behind The Facades | Part II

An unrequited pining over a certain super solider.

Navigation: Part I || Part II || Part III (end)

Words: 3.3k++

Pairings: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: angst. pent up anger. unspoken jealousy. conflicted feelings.

P/S: i heard you. i got you. since lots of you enjoyed the supposedly oneshot, so i decided to do a continuation for this couple. Hope you enjoy~

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Weeks gone by, months flown through and the team was already accustomed Bucky's girlfriend wandering around the tower. Though they thought she would move-in eventually, knowing that Tony allowed them to do so, but she hadn't done it yet.

While Y/N, on the other hand, felt like she was constantly walking on thin ice. Being tug in between holding herself together and breaking down.

What's worst about this was, deep down, Y/N wanted to hate her.

Gail Richards.

Bucky's girl.

A gorgeous red-head, sultry champagne-colored eyes, a deep dimple on her right cheek, sculptured body of goddess and heart of gold.

Y/N got to admit that she hated how perfect Gail was for Bucky. She had such a kind soul; it's impossible not to fall for her. In hindsight, she was exactly what Bucky needed in his life.

What he deserve.

And in the end, Gail managed to steal not just Bucky's heart, but also the entire team's.

Including Y/N herself.

The friendship between Gail and Y/N was true and genuine; even if it hurts her everytime when she was forced to see Gail canoodling with the man she had fallen madly in love with.

"So where's the date? Did he tell you or is it a surprise kind of thing?" Gail's questions snapped Y/N from her deep internal thoughts.

Her gaze fell into her own reflection in the mirror; she was fitted with a simple black satin dress, with a quite scandalous slit on one side on her thigh. Standing behind her, was Gail, helping her out with the pearl necklace she was graciously lending it to Y/N.

"I don't remember the name but it's that new michelin star restaurant." Y/N replied as she straighten her dress, suddenly feeling conscious of how tight the dress was hugging her body.

"Oh! I know that fancy new restaurant. It opened last week, right? Bucky and I haven't had the chance to go yet. I heard it's pretty hard to get reservation. I must say, I'm impressed."

While Gail seemed to approve of Y/N's date, she didn't notice the way Y/N's body froze as she mentioned Bucky's name.

Her fingers were itching to dug it's nails somewhere, anywhere; as she try to keep her composure as neutral as possible, "Yeah, I'll definitely give you my review before you guys go on a date there. Who knows if its not up to the standards, right?"

Oh, how desperate she was on wanting to hide her pain away.

"That's great, y/n! But, I'd rather you actually enjoy the date rather than secretly being an undercover food critique. Forget about everything and have fun for once! Who knows this one is a keeper, huh?" Gail rubbed her hands to side of Y/N's arms; her eyes brighten as she encouraged her.

Ignorance is truly a bliss; though it's not that she knows that Y/N had been in love with Bucky this whole time.

On the other hand, Bucky was starting to feel the effects of what Gail had warned him before. He doesn't want to feel like she doesn't love him because she does.

At least she tries to.

Persuing Gail was not necessarily easy; not because he was lacking or she played hard to get. But because of how honest she was; how self aware she was.

"Being with me is a hell of a challenge, Bucky. My emotions are unpredictable. Today, I will love you ever so truly; I will drown you with all the kisses and cuddles you could ever imagine but the next day you might not being able to talk to me or even see me."

"I'll go M.I.A and isolate myself from the world at any time, with no warning. I shut down without any reason."

"I might not be there for you when you needed me the most. I might abandon you when all you wanted for me to stay."

"Worst part about it is I won't feel sorry for what I did because I can barely feel anything during those time."

But he insisted to try.

Maybe it was the sudden surge of passion when he met her but he was determined that they could make it work.

So, try they did.

As his relationship with Gail progresses, his and y/n's started to astray. He noticed y/n has been keeping her distance with him since he got together with Gail.

She had been cooped up in her room more often. There was a gradual changes in their schedule. Lesser trips to the corndog stall that y/n was obsessed with, canceled trips on visiting Alpine, the cute little kitten they have been eyeing at the adoption center, and almost none of the late night coffee trips.

He missed her.

From her annoying laugh to her odd habit of scratching things in her sleep.

Her smile, her voice, her presence.

He missed all of it.

He missed her.

Which was why Bucky thought it was better to talk it out with her. Maybe there was some sort of misunderstanding that needed to be clear out.

It took just single knock before Bucky intrude himself into Y/N's room, "Hey, y/n I don't want to disturb you but can we..." Bucky's sentence did not managed to end with a period, thus his words was instead left hanging just like his mouth.

"Oh, wow."

For a moment there, Bucky literally forgot how to breath. It was as if the reality around him was deteriorating, leaving just the perfect view of Y/N. For a split second, his gaze seemed to dilated into a trance, slowly getting bewitched by the beauty before him.

Bucky was so captivated by how, almost sinfully, beautiful Y/N looked in that dress, he didn't notice his own girlfriend was standing right next to her.

Gail carefully slide her way towards Bucky as she prompted, "So... what do you think, Buck? Gorgeous isn't she?" A dreamy sigh escaped from Gail's lips as she admire the woman in front of her.

"Yes. Yes, she is."

Those were the words Bucky wanted to say but his mouth wasn't listening to his heart, rather it followed his head, "I didn't know you were coming over, honey." Bucky arms reached towards Gail as he scooped her close to him, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

It was subtle but if they paid enough attention, they could see how Y/N's gaze quickly shifted downwards to her feet. Her teeth sunk between the insides of her left cheek as an effort to distract herself from the thunderstorm within her chest. A little bit more force on her teeth would've tore her up and left her bleeding from the inside.

How much longer she must be in this torment? How much suffering her heart needs to endure until it adapt to the pain? She's tired of the ache in her chest but at the same time she can't help it when her heart yearn for a love that's never going to be hers.

"Well? Is she not goddamn beautiful?" Gail playfully slapped Bucky's arm, demanding her question to be answered.

"I mean..." Bucky stuttered to find words. Especially when those round doe eyes of Y/N's spark with anticipation.

All those milliseconds of time Bucky had to think of an appropriate, truthful answer but somehow he only come up with, "...i guess, you could do better."

Idiot.

Straight up dumb.

Bucky immediately regret his words when the gleam in Y/N's eyes suddenly faded; turning into something cold and stoic.

Gail huffed in denial, before taking Y/N's side, "Then you sir, need to check your eyes because she's absolutely stunning". Y/N gave a small smile as Gail pulled her for a side hug.

"Why are you dressed up anyway?" Bucky wanted change the topic before he said something stupid again.

There was a noticeable pause on Y/N's side as he asked, as if she was unwilling to tell him. However, the reluctantcy only arouses his curiosity.

Y/N turned around and faced the mirror. As she fixed the necklace near her collarbone, she made an eye contact with Bucky through his reflection and answered, "I have a date."

Something shifted in the air; as if it was getting heavier, sturdier.

"Who's the guy?" Bucky was clearly not amused with the idea. It barely filtered through his stern tone.

"Daniel. One of the SHIELD agent I worked with before." Y/N noticed how his expression morphed into a frown.

"Why is he making that face? "

Bucky seethed, "That douchebag? Really y/n?" There's a hint of disappointment in his voice; like how a father would scold his daughter of doing something stupid.

And that ticked her off.

She's a grown-ass woman; she can do whatever she wants, date whoever she wants. None of it was Bucky's concern.

"What do you mean?" Annoyance flowed through her tone.

Bucky rolled his eyes as he recognized that name.

Daniel.

That scumbag whose always staring at her. And not in a cute, crush-like way. There's nothing innocent about the way he stare at Y/N's ass and boobs, or always finding excuses to touch her.

However, Y/N has been oblivious to it since Bucky had always been with her.

Since when did that douche got close to Y/N? How did he managed to get Y/N agree to go to a fucking date with him? More importantly, how did Bucky not know all of this?

There was this uncontrollable, unexplainable rage within Bucky that he was unable to contain; like a venomous poison it seeped through his head, "Are you that needy to even consider going out with such scum? Come on, y/n. You're being naive, it's ridiculous." Bucky scoffed as his tone laced with scorn and mockery.

Gail gasped in complete shock, "What is wrong with you, Bucky? That's not--"

"That's not fair. How can you have the luxury to fall in love and lived happily ever after while I have to continue to break and break, again and again?"

"Ridiculous? Am I a fucking joke to you, Bucky?!" Y/N could hold back her own anger as she turned towards him. His face remained the way that it is; red and furious and he was not willing to put his ego down either.

"You know what?" Y/N swerved towards the bed, "I am going to go this date with Daniel, whether you like or not..." She took her purse on the edge of the mattress, "...and I am going to enjoy every second of it!"

"Thanks, Gail. I really appreciate your help today." Y/N smiled as she briefly took Gail's hands into hers. Blinking in confusion, Gail replied, "Y-yeah.. sure--" though her speech was cut short when Y/N interrupted.

"And you!" Y/N shot a glare towards Bucky before marching towards him, "You can go fuck yourself." She clashed her shoulders into Bucky's before walking out her own room.

Bucky gritted his teeth; his jaw clenched in pure vexation as his frown grew deeper.

Looking at her very angry looking boyfriend, Gail let out a tired sigh, "Why would you say such thing to her, Bucky?

Why did he say those things?

He could explain it much better way, knowing that he had plausible reason to why he thinks she should not go to this date.

But, why did he not do that?

Why did he lash out and spat those hurtful things to her?

Even Bucky himself was not sure why.

After that Bucky spent the rest of the night at the gym, and this was the third punching bag that he had completely destroyed. He could see his girlfriend coming in from the corner of his eyes, with an emergency kit in her hand.

She sat at a nearby bench before, "Bucky sweetheart, come here." Gail softly asked him sit with her.

Despite the grunts and gruffs that slipped from his lips, he still obeyed her; though partially was because she had been sternly staring at him.

Gail gently remove his boxing glove of his right hand, then lo and behold his knuckles was crushed and bloodied.

"The wrappings is there for a reason, you know?" She knew he would this; especially when he is guided by rage. Bucky remained silent, knowing that if he did not control his anger first; then he would probably do the same thing he did to Y/N again.

There was a comfortable silence as Gail was tending his wounds. Bucky looked down at her, focusing on cleaning the wounds. She was always careful and tender while handling Bucky; as if she was taking care of a child.

"You love her, don't you?" Gail calmly asked as she started to wrap Bucky's hand.

The question caught him by surprise, "What do you mean?"

She chuckled softly, "y/n. You love her. Am I right?" she reclarify.

It didn't need a genius to figure out how Bucky truly feels about Y/N. Even if he himself if not aware of his own feelings.

But she can see right through him.

She noticed how attentive was Bucky towards y/n. How he looked at her; like she's his whole world. How every single thing he does somehow relates back to Y/N; and he cannot go by a day without mentioning her name in their any conversation. How peaceful looked when y/n is anywhere near him.

She noticed every single one of those detail.

"Of couse, I do. It's y/n we're talking about here." Bucky replied as-matter-of-factly. Though there was some truth in his answer but it was not all.

Gail shook her head lightly as she holds Bucky's wounded hand in hers, "No, Bucky. You love her." Her brows crunched into a pleading curve as her gaze turned gentle.

Bucky frowned in confusion; he looked down at his hand where her thumb caressing his knuckles and he thought back all the moments he spent with y/n.

From the very first day he met her, on those nights she stayed with him, through thick and thin, her eyes on his, her smile on his cheek, her laugh in his arms, her voice in his ears, her skin on left arm, everything flashed through him so fast until a single moment when he realizes.

"I love her."

Gail recognized the glint his eyes, "And she loves you too, Buck." She coaxed.

The frown on his face turned into a shock as she spoke. Even if Y/N does love him, what does that mean?

"What are you saying?"

"Go." Her voice were somehow calmer than she was supposed to speak in such a dire situation.

Bucky knew what she meant; he knew what those eyes were telling him, "Gail, you--"

She cut him before he could say anything, "We did agree to see where will this take us..." her smiled was somehow bitter-sweet, "And I guess this is our end of the line."

A hit of pain struck Bucky's heart, "You don't have to do this." His left hand raised to tenderly cupped her cheeks; it was warm. Unlike his winter cold hand, she was warm. Like the soft heat from the morning sun.

She placed her hand on top of his as she craved a reassuring smile, "I want to."

And that broke Bucky's heart. And it broke for her.

He loved Gail.

All the feelings he felt for her was real. As real as the feelings he felt for Y/N. The only difference was he didn't realized he was in love with Y/N, but he did with Gail.

"And to be honest, I'm not sure I can keep up with the emotional commitments, I'm always M.I.A and lost in my own head..."

As Gail starts to ramble, Bucky wasn't hearing any of it. His eyes stings and his vision blurred.

There was only so much any man can handle.

There was joy in realizing his was in love with Y/N but there was also agony in knowing he had to break Gail's heart. Unable to hold back his emotions anymore, his tears finally broke out.

She was prepared not to cry today but seeing Bucky like this; who wouldn't tear up, right?

"Hey hey hey, I'll be okay. We'll be okay." She placed her palm on Bucky's cheeks, wiping away the tears with her thumb as she lead his gaze to her own.

"Bucky, listen to me. I don't want you feeling like you're alone." she cooed, her eyes had gotten glassy as tears filled within them. "You deserve so much more than what I can offer you, do you understand?" Bucky can simply nod as he feels like his voice will betray him.

"Good." Gail closed her eyes and leaned into a kiss. A soft innocent kiss on his forehead, as their tears fall on each other's bare skin, "Now, go get your girl."

<< Part I || Part III >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Feel free to leave some feedback behind! And what do you think of Gail? I thought it'd be nice to have a different characteristics for her instead of the cliche 'bitchy and rude' girlfriend.

There's no actual taglist. So, I only include those who reblogged with comments and/or commented on the previous part. However, do tell if you want or do not want to be tagged.

Taglist: @ghostofwinter @angstysebfan @erinallene @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @paarthurnax59 @nomajdetective @kentokaze @dexter99 @nana1000night @prettyinpink350

#winterarmyyfics #behind the facades au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #avenger!bucky #bucky angst

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cowgurrrl · 4 months

Text

Keep the Wolves Away

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: Dedicated to my real life Andies. Thank you for making me feel easy to love.

Summary: The worst decision [5.2k]

Warnings: platonic threatening, discussions of bad mental health, so much flirting that (spoiler alert) might be real, possible THE shittiest ex I ever could've written, all the southern pet names, alcohol consumption, the resurgence of an old nude of readers, gaslighty behavior, smoking cigarettes (don't smoke kids), Joel talking reader out of a spiral, two (2) kisses

"So, it's a date." Andie declares once you're done explaining everything to her over FaceTime. You pause your blush application to roll your eyes at her.

"It's not a date!"

"I'm sorry, so I'm just supposed to believe you when you say you're going to be just friends with the hot, sweet single dad who sounds like he's head over heels for you?"

"He is not head over heels for me." You sound a little petulant, and Andie laughs like she did when you were in high school and trying to hide a crush from her.

"Babe, he willingly went on a high school field trip just so he could see you."

"His daughter was there. I'm sure he wanted to spend time with her."

"I'm sure he did because he's a great dad, but he also wanted to see you in your element. It's sexy watching someone do the thing they love."

"Yeah, yeah." You brush her off, and she scoffs. You toss your makeup brush back into its bag and check out your outfit in the mirror. It's nothing insane— just a plain black slip dress— but now that Joel's arrival is getting closer and closer, you're rethinking everything. "Do I look okay?"

"You look stunning!" Andie chirps. "I'm sure your not boyfriend will think the same thing."

"I'm going to get a plane ticket to Austria just so I can choke you out with my own two hands." You threaten, but she laughs so hard you can't stop smiling. Once the trans-Atlantic giggling dies down, the line goes quiet, and you take a deep breath as you pull your mascara out.

"Are you nervous to see him?" She asks gently. Andie came home for the summer dubbed The Dark Days. She stayed over when the one-bedroom apartment felt too big and got you out of the house when you couldn't stand the four walls anymore. She took whatever he left behind to his new apartment so you wouldn't have to (and gave him a piece of her mind while she was at it). She made you believe in love again. Not sticky, frustrating, unpredictable romantic love but pure, easy, all-knowing love that can only come from long-enduring relationships such as yours.

For a long time after he left, you thought you were hard to love. Too loud, too bright, too much. Until you were out at a bar with her one night, trying to find the remnants of your independence and self-esteem tucked under sweaty beers and cracked leather chairs, when someone pointed out how similar you and Andie were. "Like two sides of the same coin," the woman told you. Andie is one of the easiest people in the world to love with her quick wit, creativity, and smile. And you realized for the first time if you had even a shred of that, even if only by dint of knowing and being loved by her, then you must be easy to love too. You must be worth the mess and heartache and stained fingerprints.

So, yeah, Andie was less than pleased to hear that all that hard work could be undone by seeing him again, but she was supportive.

"I don't know," you sigh. "I'm not a kid anymore. I've had more years without him than I did with him, but it's still scary."

"I know."

"I don't even know what I'm gonna say to him."

"He'll probably be too busy with the gallery and everything. Maybe you won't even have to." She says, and you groan at the uncertainty of everything.

"God, why did I say yes?" You ask as a knock interrupts your whining. You end your call with a quick "I love you, thank you, I'll text you" before throwing your phone down. "Come in!" You yell from the bathroom as you rapidly finish doing your makeup. There's a pause on the other side before he jiggles the knob and finally comes in. "I'm just finishing up in the bathroom. Give me a minute."

"D'you always leave your door unlocked?" Joel asks. The sound of his unsure footsteps reaches your ears, and you smile at the thought of him looking around your apartment like a lost toddler.

"Only when I know someone's coming over," you say. "Sorry, it's a mess."

"Oh, this is nothin'. You should see Ellie's room." He says, his feet pacing the floor. You swipe on a cute lipstick you never wear and finally step out into the living room where Joel is waiting. He's wearing a black button-up shirt with nice pants as he stands with his back to you, looking at some of the things on your wall.

"Well, don't you look nice?" You compliment, making him turn around with a shy smile. His eyes roam over you, taking in every detail or sliver of skin he hasn't seen before. His intense gaze reminds you of how he looked at you in the bar when you were sure his eyes would melt you. He looks dumbstruck, and his Adam's apple bobs when his eyes finally settle on your face.

"Wow… you look-"

"Choose carefully." You tease to take some of the tension out of the room.

"Beautiful," he says, thwarting your efforts. "You always look beautiful."

"Thank you. Not so bad yourself."

"You like it? Ellie helped me pick it out," he anxiously fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt. "Feels weird."

"What specifically feels weird?" You ask, stepping closer to him to examine his outfit. He smells like aftershave and the cologne he's prone to wearing. Why the fuck do you have his cologne memorized, you think to yourself.

"I dunno. I think I just feel outta place."

"Well, you don't look out of place," you say. "These might be what's doing it, though." You tap the top buttons of his shirt, the ones buttoned all the way up to his chin like a toddler going to Christmas mass.

"Ellie said I should do all of 'em since it's a fancy art thing."

"Well, you should stop taking fashion advice from a fifteen-year-old," you laugh. "I promise it's not fancy enough to justify being uncomfortable."

"I'm takin' your word for it." He says as he reaches up to undo his top two buttons, revealing freckles across his chest and collarbones and the tiniest sliver of a gold chain resting against his throat. For some reason, you can't tear your eyes away from the veins in his neck or the delicate necklace stuck to his warm skin. "What, it really looks that bad?" He thankfully breaks through your thoughts, and you try to recover by shaking your head.

"No, no. Not at all. You look really nice," you say, clearing your throat. "Let me get my purse, and we can go." You don't even wait for him to respond. You just turn on your heels and walk to your bedroom. In the security of your bedroom, you let out a long exhale and try to get your mind back on track.

You're just nervous. He's being nice. You're being nice back. It's nothing. It's nothing. It's nothing, you mentally chant. When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you almost have to laugh at the fierce blush on your cheeks and the distracted look in your eyes. "You better get it together." You say, pointing at yourself in the mirror like it's gonna do anything to make tonight smoother.

The gallery is packed when you get there. Joel curses under his breath as he tries to find a parking spot, and you try to keep your anxiety at bay. All you have to do is show your face, look at the paintings, and leave. Maybe you can manage to steal a bottle of the cheap wine they're undoubtedly serving. It'll be an hour. Two tops. You can do this.

You're so in your head that you didn't notice that Joel parked the car or that he was looking at you until he bumped your knee with his.

"You okay?" He asks. You take a deep breath and nod.

"Just need a second." You mumble. You fiddle with your earrings, your dress, anything to keep your hands busy as you psyche yourself up.

"When's the last time you saw this asshole?"

"He wasn't always an asshole," you try to redirect, but he raises his eyebrows at you. "Since I graduated college."

"We don't have to go in." He offers easily, and you give him a look.

"Yes, we do. My name's on the list and everything."

"So?" He shrugs. "The world's not gonna end just cause one person didn't show up."

"But you drove all the way here."

"And I can drive you all the way back. Besides, it's nice having a pretty girl in my truck. It wouldn't hurt to have you here next to me for a little while longer." He says, and you laugh, feeling some weight lift off your shoulders.

"You get many pretty girls sitting in your truck?"

"Just my pretty girls."

"Right." You say, and he smiles, creating familiar crinkles in the corners of his eyes. They look a little deeper in the moonlight, but his eyes shine differently. Your fingers itch to draw them if only to critique your work and find the answer to why he has such an effect on you. You're aware that you're staring, but you also can't find it in yourself to look away. Not when he's staring back at you so fondly.

"What can I do to help you?" He asks. You feel like you could cry at the sincerity in his voice. You've talked to Ellie about her anxiety, so you know he has some practice in dealing with it, but he's acting like it's second nature. Like this is what he was meant to do. He bumps you again when you start messing with your purse. "Do you want this to be like at the bar? Do you want me to take you home and pretend like we were never here? Do you want me to go in there and crack some skulls? You say the word— any word— and I'll do it for you, darlin'."

Darlin’. It's what he called you when you promised revenge for almost kissing you at the bar. Normally, you'd be against any form of pet name. Henry was not openly affectionate in that way, and you learned not to expect it from him. But here's Joel, dropping the term of endearment almost every time he's been alone with you. It could be that cowboy accent or his knee pressed against yours, but the nickname fills your chest with warmth and pushes away your anxiety.

"Any word, huh?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"My mama raised me not to make promises I didn't have every intention of followin' through on." He says. "What'll it be?"

"I think… I just need you to be there with me."

"Then, that's what I'll do."

"Okay." You mumble, and he smiles as a new wave of comfort washes over you.

"Okay." He says.

"Okay." You take a deep breath and look at him in the driver's seat one more time. "Let's do this." Finally, you open the door and step down from his truck. He's quick to come to your side and offer you his arm before he can even finish locking the car. You smile, tuck your hand under his bicep, and let him keep you upright as you walk in.

The gallery is full of people who look way more qualified than you— art critics, journalists, and other artists who can actually sell a piece. They barely glance at you and Joel when you breach the doorway, which you're silently grateful for. When a waiter walks by with champagne glasses, Joel quickly snatches two glasses from the tray and hands you one.

"Here's to us." He says, and you cock an eyebrow at him.

"Us?"

"Well, we're sure as hell not toastin' to that asshole, are we?"

"I guess not," you laugh as you clink your glasses together. "To us." You each take a sip, and Joel tries to hide his reaction to the champagne, but you see right through it. "Not your speed?"

"Not at all." He groans as he chokes it down.

"Don't worry, maverick, we'll get you something else later." You promise and tuck your hand back under his arm as you start walking through the gallery.

A lot of his newer work resembles his work from college— normal portraits of things like fruits, beds, or people but with unexpected lines of colors lining them like they're vibrating. You even recognize some from your college days. You just never expected them to actually be displayed in this way, not even when you were dating and telling him what a good artist you thought he was. Some have vague titles like "$12" and "Jack," while others are untitled. You can see why it would get taken in by a gallery. There's a very clear skill in how he paints and manipulates everyday objects into something new. It would be impressive if it was interesting.

Maybe you're just used to the way he paints. Maybe this is exactly what you expected of him. Maybe you thought he would've grown, if not in attitude than, at least, in skill. But it's clear that too many people told him good things about his work, and he saw nothing he needed to change or fix. Somehow, it makes you feel better, not worse, about your own art.

"So, are these supposed to be good or bad?" Joel whispers to you as you get closer to the next section, and you laugh a little too loudly. The people around you give you nasty looks, but you can't find it in yourself to be sorry.

"Like I said at the museum, I can't tell you that, but…" you glance around to make sure nobody's listening to you. "As someone who saw him make a lot of art, this is definitely not his best."

"Okay, that's what I thought," he says before pointing at a specific part of the painting. "The shape is really weird right there, like he ran outta space or somethin'." You let go of his arm and step between him and the painting, smiling knowingly.

"Did you study for this?" You ask, and he nervously plays with the chain around his neck.

"I may have… snuck a look at Ellie's notes." He admits sheepishly, and your eyes widen.

"You were actin' like you were gonna have to rely on me this whole time! You don't need me to tell you what good art is!"

"Yeah, but I want you to."

"Oh, whatever. C'mon, I wanna hear what else you think." You pretty much drag him to the next section of the gallery, but he's pliant and almost giddy at your hold on him. You take more time in the next part, and he ducks so his lips are near your ear to point out little things he notices. He said he was scared of being wrong in front of people "smarter than him," but all the observations he makes are valid and accurate. He lets you add your own analysis to his and watches you with a smile when you start talking with your hands excitedly. Suddenly, you're not nearly as miserable as you thought you would be, and you're even laughing together as you jump from painting to painting.

"See, this isn't so bad!" You say as you move to the final part, but your smile and enthusiasm die when you step over the threshold. There, staring at you unashamedly is the painting Henry did of you when you were twenty and topless. He told you it was for his own artistic development, and you were more than happy to do it for him. You just never thought he would've kept it after all these years. Thank God your face isn't visible in the painting, but your rigid posture tells Joel everything he needs to know. He politely turns his back to the painting and steps between you and your likeness.

"You wanna go?" He whispers at the same time someone calls your name. You take a deep breath and grab Joel's hand for support as you turn around and face Henry. His wavy blonde hair frames his face like it did in college but he's matured. His beard is a little more filled in, and he's gotten a little broader. Other than that, he's still the same person you met freshman year.

"I'm so glad you could make it!" He says as he approaches. He doesn't try to hug you, and you don't move to let go of Joel's hand. "You look great. I mean, you always looked great, but you know what I meant," he says, looking over you. Only when Joel clears his throat does Henry even look at him. "Oh, sorry, man! We're old friends. I'm Henry." He holds his hand out for Joel to meet halfway, but he doesn't. You think it probably took fighting every single bit of southern hospitality in his veins to stop himself from shaking Henry's hand.

"'M Joel." He says, and Henry awkwardly drops his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Joel. How are you enjoying the exhibition?"

"'S alright." Is all Joel offers, not willing to gas up Henry's ego anymore, and you have to stifle a laugh at the expectant look on Henry's face. "Well, I think we were just goin'."

"Oh, so soon? You haven't even seen the last few pieces."

"Are those any better than the thirty identical ones I already saw?"

"Joel," you scold quietly, and his jaw flexes when you look at him.

"It's okay. Not everyone understands art enough to enjoy it." Henry says.

"Oh, I understand everythin' just fine." You swear Joel would've punched him if he wasn't holding your hand so tight. You step in between them and raise your eyebrows at Joel. His shoulders are squared, and you can feel the molten anger rolling off him, but it softens just a bit when he meets your eyes. You squeeze him twice to let him know you're okay, and he nods.

"Can you get me a refill on champagne? I think they're still walkin' around with some." You suggest. He gets the hint, but he obviously doesn't like it. He glances between you and Henry like he's trying to make a decision but folds when you mouth, "please," at him.

"’Course," he says through gritted teeth. "Anythin' else I can get for you, baby?" Baby, that's a new one, you think.

"No, I'm alright. Thanks, though." You say. Without thinking, you let your other hand rest on his jaw and kiss Joel's cheek. His jaw unclenches when your fingertips graze his stubble, and his shoulders relax when your lips make contact with his skin, but you know he's still upset because you're still upset. Joel smiles and walks away before you can get a good look at the blush creeping up his neck, and you're resigned to watching him disappear into the crowd.

"He seems nice," Henry says the second Joel is out of earshot, and you have to resist the urge to laugh.

"He is."

"How'd you two meet?"

"Through work." You say, knowing that bringing up teaching will make his skin crawl. He sucks his teeth and nods, the champagne in his glass sloshing slightly.

"Ah," he says. "That's nice."

"Yeah," you agree. An awkward silence falls over the two of you quickly, and you're itching to find Joel in the sea of people. Henry notices your lack of attention on him.

"It's really good to see you," he says. "I feel like I haven't talked to you in forever."

"Yeah, that's usually what happens when you leave someone."

"That's kinda why I invited you here tonight. I wanted to apologize for the way things ended," he acts brokenhearted and torn up about it, but he's years too late for the pity party he's expecting. "I should've talked to you about what was going on. We were just... becoming so different, and it felt like you were always talking to Andie or other people in the program, and there was no way to reach you."

"What are you talking about? I asked you multiple times if we were okay, and you said yes every time. I was talking to Andie so much because I needed someone who would understand me and be able to help." You say, and he waves his hand like he's swatting flies.

"Let's not do this. My therapist says it's not healthy to rehash the past like this. I just wanted to make amends and let you know I'm sorry for how you felt." It's not an apology. Not a real one, anyway. Jesus Christ, what did you ever see in him? Before you can even open your mouth to say something, he gestures to the gallery. "So, what do you think about all this? Crazy, right?"

"It's... something," you say. "Wish you would've given me a heads up about that one before I brought someone with me." You point in the direction of your half-naked body on the wall, and he gives you a confused look.

"I thought I did in the email."

"Nope, I think I would've remembered if you said something about a half-naked painting of me from college being displayed," you shake your head. "Why do you even still have that? I thought you would've thrown it away or painted over it or something."

"Why would I do that? It's a good piece."

"I know it's good because it's my body. What's weird is you leaving me without a word one day and then keeping a naked picture of me all these years."

"I didn't even think of it as your body. After a while, it was just a body," he says with no remorse, and you think you might hit him yourself. "Besides, you should take this as a compliment. Not many women get the opportunity to be depicted as art. It's a wonderful thing. You might even thank me one day when you're older." Finally, you see Joel walking toward you with a glass of champagne, and you take refuge in the fact that he's returning for you. "But, from what I can see, they've definitely stayed the same, so you probably don't have anything to worry about." He says like it's a secret or a compliment. You don't even wait for Joel to say or do anything. You just grab the wine from him and throw it in Henry's face. The people in the immediate vicinity gasp as you slap him and shove the empty glass into his hands.

"Out of all the stupid things I imagined for myself when I was younger, thinking I would marry you was the stupidest," you spit. "Don't you ever try to fucking contact me again."

You feel like a fucking idiot. What did you expect? An apology? Repentance? Regret? He barely apologized when you were together. Why would he start now? God, was he always that bad? How could you have been so blind? How could you have shed so many tears over him? How could you have let yourself be so vulnerable with him and for so many years? It's a miracle he didn't call the cops and try to get the two of you arrested, even though Joel didn't do anything. You think, at least. The second you finished your sentence, you ran to the bathroom to cry and then snuck out through the back to wait outside Joel's truck. For all you know, Joel (rightfully) beat his ass and is on the run from artsy Austin hipsters.

You put the lit cigarette back in your mouth and take a long drag, the familiar burning in your lungs a sick relief. You quit during The Dark Days because smoking was something he did, and you wanted to rid yourself of any reminder of his impact on your life. Apparently, at the same time you were scrubbing his fingerprints from your bones, he was in possession of and doing God knows what with the visual reminder of your vulnerability and love-sickness and acted like it was nothing. Like it was a compliment. Like it was just an object instead of your body. Andie would be pissed if she were here but especially if she saw you smoking after she braved all those shaky days and nights of nicotine patches and dried fruit and whatever other remedy recommended to help you quit smoking. You half-expect the same anger when you see Joel walking toward you.

"Before you even start, I know I shouldn't, okay? It's a bad habit from when I was a kid, and I've mostly kicked it. I just... had a lapse. I'll be back on my best behavior tomorrow," you say as he stops in front of you. He doesn't look angry or upset. He just looks concerned and maybe even a little sad. Suddenly, you regret running away from him when all he probably wanted to do was help. You probably wouldn't have bummed a cigarette from a busboy if you let him. "Don't tell Ellie." You plead. His eyes flick over your face before he takes the cigarette from your fingers, puts the lipstick-stained filter in his own mouth, and inhales deeply, making the ember glow in the dark of the night. When he exhales, he blows the smoke away from you and lets the wind carry it in the opposite direction. A considerate smoker. You should've guessed.

"Don't tell Ellie," he says, handing the cigarette back to you. "Are you okay?"

You shake your head and take a long drag. It's quiet between you two for a while, the only sound being the cicadas and the distant chatter of the gallery. They're probably still talking about the psycho bitch who threw her wine in the artist's face. You don't really care. "I'm sorry for tonight. I don't know what I was expecting, and I sure as shit didn't know that painting was gonna be displayed. I swear, if I had any idea how bad this was gonna be, I wouldn't have invited you."

"Why are you apologizin'? It's not your fault."

"I shouldn't have roped you into this. I should've just said no, ignored the email, or came by myself. It's not fair that you got put in the middle of all this, especially when you were just trying to be nice. You're the parent of one of my students, and for you to see that side of me is just inappropriate. I just-" he stops your rambling by putting his hands on your shoulders and making you look at him, the cigarette falling to the pavement in the process.

"Hey, hey. Stop. Take a breath." He says. Your head hurts from crying, and part of you wants to crawl into a hole and stay there until these feelings go away, but his eyes are gentle, and his hands are warm. You think he might be the only reason you're holding it together right now. "None of this is your fault, okay? Not the painting, not the conversation, none of it. We're both adults, and we can handle these things rationally. I'm not scarred for life just 'cause you lost your temper."

"But I-"

"No, buts. You told me the situation, and I didn't care. You warned me bout the art people, and I didn't care. You threw a drink in that asshole's face, and I didn't care," he says. "The only thing I care bout right now is makin' sure you're okay. Fuck everythin' else." You search his face for anything to tell you what he's telling you is going against his inner monologue but find none. He's completely and wholly concerned about you and nothing else. Not how fast he can get out of this. Not how this might look. Not what other people might think about him. Nothing. You take a deep breath and nod.

"Fuck everything else." You agree.

"Now, you're gettin' the hang of it." He jokes, and you roll your eyes at him. He takes it in stride, his smile never fading as he looks down at you. You stop messing with the hem of your dress and let yourself relax for the first time all night.

"Thank you for being here, Joel. I really appreciate it."

"Not our best not-date, but definitely a memorable one." He says, and you laugh. You seem to realize how close you are at the same time because you both fall silent. His curls are beautifully draped over his face, and you can't stop watching his tiny expressions. An eye squint. A purse of the lips. A bite to the inside of his cheek. You want to blame your bad night or the emotions, but you can't. There's something more there. Something that's been brewing beneath the surface since he came into your classroom. Something that will kill you if you don't act on it.

You let your hands come up from your sides and tentatively brush against his waist as you stare at him, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. He just stares down at your lips, and the hands on your shoulders slowly move across your skin and up your collarbone— leaving goosebumps in his wake— until his hands are on your jaw and your pulse is thrumming against his palm. You pull him closer by his belt loops, and he doesn't hesitate to crowd your space, pushing you into the side of his truck with his body. His lips ghost over yours, just barely touching, and his nose bumps yours.

"This is a bad idea," you breathe, tightening your hold on him. He nods and presses his forehead against yours. He's still close enough to breathe the same air as him, but the distance feels like miles. You lean forward a fraction as a test, and he doesn't move. If anything, he seems annoyed you didn't kiss him.

"D'you want to stop?" He asks, sounding just as breathless as you feel. You shake your head and swallow hard when he brushes the hair off your shoulder, and you can feel his heavy hand holding you. Your hands skate over his ribs, feeling muscles and a crazed heartbeat, and his jaw clenches. "Then you better do somethin' cause you've been drivin' me fuckin' crazy for weeks."

Finally, you catch his lips with yours. He tastes like nicotine and smoke, and you know it's going to take a lot more than patches to get you to want to stop doing this. It's gentle and sweet, all relieved sighs and shy touches until you pull away for just a second to second-guess yourself or ask him something. You don't even start to form the words before he's back on you with more fervor. Suddenly, it's like he's everywhere but not nearly close enough. He nibbles at your bottom lip and tests a hand on your sternum, long fingers grazing your throat. The metal of the truck digs into your back, but you stop caring when a little moan slips from his lips when you pull him closer.

This is a bad idea. A horrible one. A bad habit you're gonna need to kick.

But he might just be your favorite bad idea so far.

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