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strang3lov3 · 9 months

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Cup of Sugar

Dilf!neighbor!joel x fem reader (pre outbreak)

Summary: You often borrow from your neighbor, Joel. He catches you in his home, digging through his belongings for batteries when your vibrator dies.

WC: 4.5k

Warnings: Smut!! Dirty talk, smug joel, masturbation, blowies, vibrators, unprotected piv, joel is fully clothed and reader is butt ass naked! Soft!dom joel vibes

AN: Dedicated to all my faves, @notjustjavierpena, @macfrog, @gracieispunk, @toxicanonymity and @speckledemerald i love all y’all with my entire heart<3

Please comment/reblog if you enjoyed ❤️

The ceiling fan needs to be fixed. You’ve been meaning to get that taken care of. It’s the first thing you think of on Saturday morning, when you wake up in your bed to the sound of lawn mowers and weed whackers. A gentle breeze comes from your open window and ghosts over your skin, reminding you to get your ceiling fan fixed.

Saturdays were often your busiest days. Between cleaning, grocery shopping, and getting ready to go out for drinks with your friends, you don’t have much time for just you. Which, arguably, is what weekends should be for.

You get out of bed and start getting ready for the day. You shower, get dressed, do your hair and your makeup just how you like. You feed your pets and you’re out the door to take on this beautiful Saturday.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see someone waving good morning to you. It’s Joel, wearing nothing except for his grass stained jean cutoffs as he mows his lawn. His dark curls are damp and stuck to his forehead, his torso shimmers in the sunlight. You catch a glimpse of his soft tummy and the thin line of hair leading down from his navel.

You nearly faint right then and there. Joel’s your ridiculously sexy dilf of a next door neighbor. You’ve been absolutely smitten with him for what feels like eternity, and his slutty lawn mowing outfits are not helping you one bit.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he calls to you after turning off his mower. “Big plans today?”

“Grocery shopping,” you reply plainly, trying to keep your cool. You don’t want to say much and trip over your words. God, he makes your knees buckle. “And chores. Then going out to drink with a few friends.”

He nods. “Stay outta trouble,” he tells you with a charming wink, and then he pulls the cord of his mower and begins working on his lawn again. You watch his back muscles twitch and shine in the hot sun, his plump ass filling his shorts just right.

Fuuuck. You’re nearly salivating at the sight. He’s gonna be an issue again today.

And an issue he was.

At the grocery store, you walk past the lawn mowers and other yard work supplies. Joel. You scan your groceries and check out, and you just know you’re forgetting something.

At home, washing your bedding. You can’t help but wonder how his bedding looks, how it would smell and feel with your face pressed into the mattress as he pounds you from behind. Does he keep his bed neatly made? Messy?

At the bar, watching the drops of condensation slide down the glass. You’re thinking of the way Joel looks with beads of sweat dripping down his face, down the dip of his temple and the sharp curve of his jaw. Your friends are trying to talk to you, but your mind is elsewhere. The condensation pools at the table under the glass.

As the night finally draws to a close, you drive yourself home. It’s late, most of the lights are off in the neighborhood, including Joel’s. You walk into your home, toss your keys on the end table by your door and make your way to your bedroom.

You’re aching between your thighs, your skin feels hot and your mind is focused on just one thing. You strip bare and flop on your bed, reaching for your hot pink bunny eared vibrator. Ol’ reliable.

Usually, you like to take your time with your self-love. Tease yourself a little, build up that anticipation. Joel’s done that enough to you today, so you get right to business. With your legs spread wide, you turn the vibrator on and press the toy to your center, using it to spread your arousal up to your clit and back down again.

Maybe two minutes in, just as you find the perfect spot and the perfect pace, and then the whine of the vibrator begins dying down. You let out an incoherent stream of obscenities as you realize what’s happening, then the vibrator’s buzzing finally comes to a heartbreaking stop. “Fuck,” you hiss. Batteries.

You’re irked. You fucking knew you were forgetting something at the store. And you’d think the way you were fantasizing of Joel all day, you would have remembered to pick up the fucking batteries for your vibrator. He is the object of your affection, after all.

You have extras stashed, don’t you? You open your bedside table drawer to check and…nothing. Maybe in the closet downstairs, where you keep your cleaning supplies and first aid stuff? You throw on your robe real quick and check. Nope. You slam the door, irate with frustration.

You’re getting desperate now, and out of the corner of your eye you notice a dim green light, flashing gently. The smoke alarm. That has to have batteries you can steal for a little while, right? It’s not like it’s preventing you from dying in a house fire or anything. You grab a stool and unscrew the alarm from the top of the ceiling and, and,

It has batteries.

But they’re nine volts. Not even close to the triple A’s you require.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. You need to calm down. Women have fingers for a reason, after all. But god bless it, it’s not the fucking same!

In the dark of your kitchen, you get yourself a glass of water and stare out the window at Joel’s house. And as you take a sip of water, it hits you.

Joel probably has batteries.

You slip on your flip flops and leave your house, heading over to Joel’s backdoor.

Are you about to break and enter into his home? No, of course not. That would be absurd. You have a key, duh.

It started with a cup of sugar.

Once, you had knocked on Joel’s door asking to borrow a cup of sugar for the sheet cake you were making for the neighborhood barbecue. You, ever so forgetful, had failed to remember to pick up sugar on that particular grocery shopping trip.

Joel left and returned moments later with a large container full of sugar, way more than a cup. You were expecting a baggie with a single cup of sugar inside, not the whole bin. Men, you thought. You thanked him and promised to give his sugar back soon. You never did.

The next time, it was eggs. You knocked on Joel’s door, but were met with no answer. So you called him.

“Hey, what’s up sugar?” Your heart swelled at the nickname. It’s what Joel teasingly called you when you never returned his bin full of sugar, not that he really minded. “Just need a favor. Are you home?”

“Maybe,” he said. “What do you need?”

“Just like, three eggs for the cupcakes tomorrow,”

After trying your delicious sheet cake, Joel was hooked. He had asked you to make cupcakes for Sarah’s birthday, strawberry with vanilla frosting. You had all the ingredients except for a few eggs, and you didn’t feel like running all the way across town for them.

Joel exaggerated a groan, faking annoyance. “Those are my last eggs, you know. Am I gonna have to starve at breakfast tomorrow morning?” You let out a giggle at his dramatics. “It’s your breakfast or your daughter’s cupcakes, Joel,”

“Cupcakes,” he decided. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Take the eggs. S’all good, sugar. I’ll have toast.”

You were about to speak, but Joel interrupted. “Won’t be home for a while. Help yourself, just use the key I gave ya. Happy baking, sugar,”

Joel had given you a key long ago. If he was ever in a pinch working late, he’d call you and ask you to babysit Sarah for him. He gave you a key so you could help yourself inside to make her an after school snack or dinner before she got home. Not that Sarah really needed the help, being so self sufficient. But he liked knowing you were there to take care of her when he wasn’t.

“Bye, Joel,”

And that was your neighborly routine. Babysitting Sarah, borrowing different things from Joel. A flashlight or a screwdriver. Ice, when your freezer broke. Sarah and Joel would borrow from you too, a pair of scissors or a hot glue gun for school projects. Once, they had borrowed your printer late at night when Sarah forgot she had a history paper due the next morning. It’s what neighbors are for, after all.

At Joel’s door with his key in your hand, you jiggle it into the doorknob and quietly open the door, careful not to let it creak too loud. You don’t want to wake up Sarah or Joel.

You tiptoe through his house, first to his living room. You check the drawer of one of his end tables, nothing. Then the entertainment center where he keeps his video game controllers and such, surely he would keep batteries there too? Nope. You close the doors of the entertainment center and make your way to the kitchen. As quietly as you can you open his junk drawer next to the sink and begin moving items around. There’s a phone book, notecards, pens and pencils. The scissors you lent to Sarah. But no fucking batt-

“What are you doin’ riflin’ through my shit at this ungodly hour?” You jump as a voice interrupts you. You stand up straight and turn your head to the source of the sound, and it’s Joel. His hair is messy and sticking up six ways from Sunday, his soft gray sweatpants hang low on his hips and his thin t-shirt hugs his biceps just so. He’s got one eyebrow cocked, half in amusement and half in annoyance.

“I just need to borrow something. I'll be out in a second. Didn’t mean to wake you Joel, I’m sorry,” you apologize. You curse yourself for being so noisy, but you can’t help it. You’re frantic for these fucking batteries.

Joel steps down the stairs. “What do you need so badly right now?”

“Just some batteries,” you mumble.

“Batteries?” Joel asks. “The fuck do you need batteries so bad for it can’t wait til’ morning?”

You didn’t think this far ahead. You were expecting to find the batteries and just go, not be interrogated by Joel. But you know you’re not in a place to argue.

“Uhh,” you start, “Flashlight. I need triple A’s.”

Joel just nods quietly, his eyes are droopy with sleepiness and he walks to a kitchen cabinet, the one containing different odds and ends. You see the box of batteries and he reaches to pull a few out for you, but then pauses before handing them to you. “Wait a minute. Thought you didn’t have one. S’why you’re always stealin’ my flashlight,”

“Yeah, sorry. I meant the remote,” Smooth.

“Mmm,” Joel murmurs, rotating the batteries in his hand. He’s staring you down, taking you all in. Your eyes are wide, your cheeks are flushed, your hair is messy. You’re wearing just a robe, and he’s sure there’s nothing underneath. Your voice is shaking, your breathing is loud and unsteady.

“Come on Joel, I’m missing my show. Please,”

Joel doesn’t give you the batteries yet, he just keeps playing with them in his hand. It’s distracting, the way his fingers move so deftly. He bites his cheek and raises his eyebrows at you. He knows exactly why you’re so flustered, and he suspects it’s the same reason you need batteries at the fucking dead hour.

“What show?”

“What?”

“I asked what show you’re watching tonight,”

You swallow thickly, your brain is racing as you try to think up a lie. “X-Files,”

“Hm. Who’s your favorite character?”

Damn. Ask more questions, why don’t you? “Sully,” you reply with partial confidence, even though you’re not really sure if that character exists or you’re confusing them with something else.

“He’s from Monsters Inc, hon. Try again,” You stammer. Maybe it was a bad idea to pick a show you don’t watch to lie about. Joel answers for you, “Did ya mean Scully?”

You nod. “Yeah. Him,”

Joel just smiles tightly, nodding slowly like he knows something you don’t. You’re so full of shit. “Guess what, sugar,”

“What?”

“X-Files ain’t on tonight,” he whispers with a lopsided grin.

Busted.

“And I can tell you don’t watch it,” Joel takes a few imposing steps toward you, you take a few steps back as well. Your lower back hits the counter behind you, pinning you between itself and Joel. You hear the sound of him setting the batteries down next to you. “You think you’re slick, don’t ya? Lyin’ t’me like this.”

Your heart is racing out of our chest as he places his two hands on either side of you on the counter. “What?”

“Did your lil’ fuck toy die on you?” he taunts, his breath is hot on your face. Your eyes widen at the accusation. “It did, didn’t it?”

Your silence is the only answer he needs.

“So that’s what you’re playin’ with when I hear you whimperin’ for me late at night, hm?” You can only look down at the floor in shame. You didn’t realize you were loud enough for Joel to hear through his own bedroom, which mirrors yours. “You really should keep that window closed, sweetheart.”

You’re not exactly sure where this is going, you’re nervous and excited. Is he mad? Turned on? You can’t tell. “The fan’s broken, it gets hot,” you try to explain while stammering.

“I’d be happy to fix your fan for ya, but that’s not what we’re talkin’ about right now,”

Joel’s eyes are piercing, he never breaks eye contact as one of his hands leaves the counter. He pulls the fabric of your robe away from your chest a little more, and you look down to watch his next move. “Joel,” you gasp, surprised.

“Nothin’ under here, hm?” he croons as he begins playing with your nipple, hardened by your arousal and the cool air. You moan quietly when he teases it, pinching and twisting it slowly. He looks at you with big and concerned eyes as if to ask that this is okay. You nod in response, of course it’s okay. This is what you’ve dreamed of for so long.

Joel’s hand slides down your body until his fingers find your dripping seam. He slides them through your slick folds teasingly, he cocks his eyebrow when he finds you’re soaked to the bone. “And you were right there, weren’t you?”

You don’t answer, you just keen into his touch a little more.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, sugar,”

“Yeah,” you admit.

“Shoot. You poor thing,”

It’s completely silent between you both. Deafening silence. Joel wears a smug grin on his face. He pulls his hand away from your center, reaching for the batteries he set on the counter.

Before you can even process what you’re doing, you reach for his hand again. “Please,” you breathe.

“Please what, sugar?”

You don’t have words right now. Not that you did before this moment, either. You put his hand back at your pussy, using your body to tell him what you want. That you want this to continue, that you’re begging him not to stop touching you. Fuck the batteries.

“Ohhh,” he whispers, realizing. “Want me to get you off tonight, don’t ya?”

You nod with hungry and desperate eyes, thankful that this is going in the best direction it possibly could have. “Please, Joel, need you to touch me,”

It’s not a second before he grabs you by the hips, turns you around and shoves you down to your knees. “No,” he spits, one of his hands is tangled in your hair as the other is untying the knot at his pajama bottoms. He pulls his cock out before you, rock hard and angry. “Think you can just sneak into my house to steal batteries for your little toy?”

You’re at a loss for words, in disbelief that this is the position you’re in now.

“And now you want me to help ya rub one out. S’that right?” When you don’t answer he impatiently taps your cheek with the tip of his cock, smearing precum on your face. “Answer me.”

“Yes, please,”

Joel scoffs. “You’re unbelievable,” he remarks. “Think you’re pretty fuckin’ entitled, sugar. That’s not how this works.”

You feel your heartbeat in every inch of your body, blood rushing through your head. Your eyes dart between his face and his cock in front of you, not sure which part of him to focus your attention to.

“Here’s how this’ll go,” he begins, pressing his cock against your plump lips. They part slightly at the intrusion, but he doesn’t yet push himself into your mouth. “You do what I say, when I say it. We clear?”

You nod.

“Repeat it,” he demands.

“I follow your rules,” you whisper against his member. You can just barely taste him, and you’re hungry for more.

“Attagirl,” Joel praises you, and he shoves himself unceremoniously into your mouth. You nearly gag, pulling back slightly but he holds you right where he wants you.

He’s big. That’s the first thing you notice. He stretches your mouth out wide and fills you up entirely. Then you notice his tuft of slightly unkempt pubic hair that your nose is nudging. Your eyes flutter shut and you savor the way he tastes, tangy and slightly salty from the sweat.

His voice interrupts your thoughts. “Take your robe off f’me, sug,”

You do as you’re told, untying and shimmying off the thin robe from around your shoulders as you bob your head on his dick. You hollow your cheeks around him, letting him feel every inch of your mouth, so soft and wet. He’s domineering above you, but his hand on your head is gentle. He untangles his fingers from your hair and moves them to your cheek, caressing your skin gently. You can’t tell what the gesture means, if it’s supposed to be comforting or his way of letting you know he’s the one in charge.

You feel him twitch in your mouth every so often as you continue sucking his cock. You look up at him with wide eyes, he looks down at you through hooded lids. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“I wanna watch you touch yourself,” he requests, but it’s more of a demand. His voice low and gravelly.

You spread your legs slightly and your hand finds your center, your fingers slip and slide through your dripping pussy.

“Fuck yourself,” is his next command, “Deep as you can go. Come on now,”

You insert a single finger inside of yourself, using your body’s rocking motion to propel your finger deep inside you. But it’s not quite what you need. You pull your mouth off Joel’s cock, which garners you a look of irritation from him. “Need more,” you beg.

“Yeah? Whatcha need?”

“You, Joel. Please,”

“Awh,” Joel tilts his head and pouts at you mockingly. “Beggars can’t be choosers. You know that, silly girl.”

You open your mouth to plead for him, but he shuts you up by shoving his cock back into your mouth with a grunt.

“Keep fuckin’ yourself real nice f’me,” he says. “Gonna watch you come all over those pretty fingers.”

You whine a little and shift on your knees, trying to find the right angle while still taking Joel down your throat. Eventually you do, and you add a second finger while grinding your clit down on your thumb.

You and Joel find a steady pace, him fucking your mouth and you fucking yourself. You feel the beginning of an orgasm coming on and focus hard on that feeling, letting it build and wash over you. You moan and choke on Joel’s thick cock as you come, spit dribbling down your lips and your chin.

“Good girl,” he praises you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

At this point, your lips and your jaw are sore. You wonder what’s next to come, Joel finishing down your throat or something else. It’s not long before you find out, he pulls away from you and brings you to your feet.

“What was it you were wantin’ again, sugar? D’ya wanna come all over my cock?”

You try to hold back your excitement, slightly embarrassed by the effect he has on you.

“Tell me, were you thinkin’ of me tonight? Before that lil’ fuck toy of yours died?”

“All day, Joel,” you whine. “Needed you all day.”

“All day,” he repeats, amused. He turns you around to face the counter, pulls you back by your hips a bit and nudges your feet apart. “How ‘bout that. What were ya thinkin’ about me?”

“Y-” you gasp, your words interrupted when you feel the thick head of his cock prodding your slit. He drags it up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal.

“Go on, now,” His southern accent is thick like honey as he teases you.

“When you were mowing this morning-” you choked out. “You looked so handsome.”

“Handsome, hm? S’awful kind of ya,” Joel notches the tip of his dick inside you and sort of pulses inside you, ever so slightly moving in and out of your dripping entrance. “Got me blushin’, sugar.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he buries himself inside of you. You yelp at the sudden intrusion and without missing a beat, Joel wraps a hand around your mouth.

“Pipe down,” he growls. You nod frantically into his hand, which he promptly removes from your mouth and places on the back of your head. Firmly, but not so rough that he hurts you, he pushes your face down into the counter and holds you steady there by the back of your neck. His hand is warm on your neck, the pressure of his strength against you is both comforting and somewhat of a warning. Your guts churn as desire shoots through your veins like electricity.

Joel finds a steady pace. Not too fast, not too slow. His cock hits you right where you need him.

“Jesus, sugar. Feel good?”

“Fuck,” is all you can get out. You’re lost in him, your skin is on fire and all you can feel is Joel. His thighs hitting your ass, his balls slapping against your clit. One of his hands on your waist, holding you steady. “You feel good, s’good.”

Joel lets out a strangled kind of noise, somewhere between a whine and a groan. You hear his sharp and unsteady breathing through his gritted teeth, and you wish you could see him like this. You can just about picture it perfectly, his messy hair flopping with each of his thrusts and his brow furrowed, the little line between them more prominent than it usually is.

He fucks you at a devastating rhythm, both of you panting and moaning. Joel’s a little more vocal than you would have expected. You can tell he’s trying to keep as quiet as he can, but he lets out strangled moans here and there, as if he can’t help it at all. When he’s quiet, you wonder how he does it. Is his lip pinned under his teeth? Is he holding his breath?

He taps your cheek. “Look at yourself, baby,”

You open your eyes, and you see your reflection in his glass patio door. You’re stark naked and being mercilessly fucked and Joel’s behind you, still fully clothed. His plump ass peeks out from his gray sweats.

“You look real pretty with my cock in ya, sugar. Always knew you would,” he purrs.

“Fuck, Joel,” you moan, and you reach an arm behind you to hold onto his own, where he’s still gripping your hips. He holds you in a vice grip and you’re sure you’ll be a painting of bruises tomorrow, a picture of pure, unadulterated sex.

His hand on your neck finally leaves, and he wraps it around the front of your body until he finds your clit. You almost miss the way he pressed you into the cold countertop.

“Alright, now,” he breathes, “Keep lookin at us when you come.”

You nod into the countertop. Even if he didn’t tell you what to do, you’d still be watching yourself and him in the reflection of the glass. You couldn’t peel your eyes away if you tried.

He expertly paints circles into your clit as his once calculated and steady thrusts turn frenzied and he loses his rhythm.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Joel,” you’re gasping, feeling your walls clench and squeeze him. “Right there, right there, fuck.”

“Go on, let go f’me,” he pants.

With a few more circles tracing your clit, you fall apart on him. You come with a loud whine, and Joel pulls you up to cover your mouth with his hand once more. His arm is between your breasts and you’re not sure if the hot sweating on your back is from you or him. You don’t mind either way.

He doesn’t yet stop fucking you, and the sensation is becoming all too much. Your moaning is muffled by his hand as he chases his own orgasm, and he spills into you with shuddering breaths and grunts, painting milky white ropes of come on your insides.

You groan at the loss as he pulls out of you and his spend is warm as it drips from your pussy and down your thighs. You turn around to face Joel, both of you panting as you catch your breath. His dominant demeanor is gone as he bends down to pick up your robe and holds it open for you, you turn around and slither your arms through the sleeves. Without words, he turns you around and ties it in the front, then you slide your flip flops back on your feet. The whole song and dance feels oddly domestic and sweet.

With his hand on the small of your back, he guides you out his door and walks you to your home.

“Don’t have too much fun,” he warns you teasingly, placing the two triple A batteries in your hand. “And close that window. I wanna be the only one to hear ya moanin’ all pretty like that.”

You nod with a shy smile, and Joel kisses your lips and then your forehead. The gentleness of the gesture feels odd, but not wrong. You’re suddenly feeling bashful, as if Joel just didn’t have you butt naked and bent over his kitchen counter.

“I’ll be by to fix that fan for ya, sugar,”

And then he walks away. And you go inside and back to your bedroom, first making sure to close your window. You watch the light in Joel’s bedroom turn off.

You lay in bed and play with the triple A batteries in your hand, still feeling the tingle of his lips on yours, the dull ache of the bruises his fingers left on your hips.

You never did end up replacing those batteries. Just like how you never gave back the sugar.

@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @venusdemonroe @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers@angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @spideysimpossiblegirl @speckledemerald

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coryosbaby · 5 months

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♡ MDNI!! 18+

Thinkin’ of dilf! Anakin fucking in missionary <3 only your legs are lifted off the mattress as your upper body is relaxed on the bed, drool caked all over your chin and your pussy clenching tightly around him. He’s got his big hands wrapped around your thighs as he fucks into you, the tattoo with your name on his v line entirely prominent as it slams against your skin. He’s on his knees so he can fuck you as deeply as he pleases. He groans as he watches your fucked out face, tears falling freely down your eyes as you let out pathetic little whines.

“Oh, baby,” he coos, using one hand to push his black hair out of his face. “So fuckin’ beautiful. Look at that… gonna cream on my cock again?

“Daddy!” You cry. “No, no, I can’t…”

He hums, reaching down to rub your swollen little clit for the fourth— fifth?— time tonight.

“You can, sweet girl. Cmon, don’t you want me to be proud of you? Daddy’s so so close, jus’ gotta see my pretty slut cum one more time…”

Your cunt is so sore that it hurts, but when Ani says things like that in that sweet tone it makes you want to do anything for him. You reach out, begging for his closeness, begging to wrap your arms around him. He notices your pleading eyes, and mockingly pouts back at you.

“What is it? Need some cuddles? Need me to hold you?”

You nod eagerly, your tongue lolling out in pleasure as your orgasm nears. Anakin rolls forward, putting all of his weight on top of you just like you like. You mewl, your skin tingling, your heart surging. This is perfect.

He’s hitting all the right spots, and it isn’t long with his fingers flicking your clit and his teeth scraping your jugular that you cum again. Watching you fall apart beneath him, Anakin bites his bottom lip so hard that it draws blood. He can feel his cum filled balls drawing up, aching to empty themselves into your tight little womb. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips as he finally shoots rope after rope of warm, delicious seed inside you. You keen, holding his big shoulders as he fills you up. He makes no move to pull out— he likes keeping himself inside sometimes after your sessions. Sometimes he even falls asleep like this if he’s spent enough. Looking down, you simply sit and admire the way his perfect cock parts your folds and splits your hole. Anakin breathes heavy against you, exhausted from your hours of continuous fucking.

“Okay?” He asks you softly. You don’t reply; your eyes are closed, your brain all fuzzy and dumb. Anakin lightly slaps the side of your cheek. “Angel?”

You smile, dazed.

“Yeah?”

“I asked if you were okay,” he whispers against you. “Do you need some space? I can move—“

“No,” you whine. “No, daddy, please. Stay in me. Need you…”

He smiles, relaxing even more into your pretty body.

“‘Course I will.” He says, and you grin happily, running your fingers through his hair and letting out a tiny sigh.

“Wish you could jus’ stay inside forever. Wish you could jus’ crawl in me.”

He laughs, kissing your head.

“You say some weird shit sometimes, you know that?”

You shrug.

“I just love you a lot.”

Anakin’s heart flutters, bringing his thumb up to your mouth so you can suck it.

“I love you too, honey.”

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x fem! reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfic #Star Wars #Hayden Christensen #James Kelly

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dreadlock-detective · 5 months

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Hyrule Hulligans Harrass Dilf Dining Establishment

I'm playing around with figuring out tweaks to my cartoony art style for a project I'm working on and decided to test it out more by trying it on these four doofuses. I have to say, I'm really proud of how it came out. Look at how it came out! Look at the shape of Yunobo's doofy head!

That said, I need to actually go back and beat Tears of the Kingdom some time. Sadly I've heard that the Ganondorf Diner shenanigans have been patched out? Not that I'd end up doing that anyway but damn was that funny!

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Since this post will likely have more reach than most, I want to keep testing out this style on more characters and to that end I'd like to announce a limited time special for December 2-10th 2023!

More info (and a few drawings I haven't posted) under the cut!

STYLE COMMISSION INFO

So yeah I want to practice this style and other folks always seem to have neat ideas I wouldn't think of and I'm trying to raise some money to help send my wife on a trip next summer! Let's make cool stuff happen!

Details:

Please email zeratanus AT gmail DOT com with the subject Style Commission

Cost is $25 USD, paid upfront via paypal. I'll send an invoice out for you once we've agreed on the commission

1 full body character, colored and cell shaded, no background

Please provide an image reference of the character, preferably in color and full body

Either OCs or Fanart is fine

Safe for Work Only

Unlike my usual commissions, these are supposed to be quick so no approval process. Once the commission is confirmed I'll get to work and post the finished product here on Tumblr when it's done

if you want to be tagged when its posted, please include your tumblr username in the email. Sometimes Tumblr refuses to tag certain accounts so I can't promise this hellsite will work but I'll certainly try!

I'm down to hear a bit about the the character's personality and try to incorporate that but the pose itself is up to me.

I think that's everything! If that sounds good to you, drop me a line!

Guess I'll end off with a few more unposted test images for the project this is actually for!

#legend of zelda #loz #Link #Yunobo #Riju #Sidon #Korok #Tears of the Kingdom #TotK #gerudo #goron #Zora #fanart #dreadlock detective #Commissions

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angelyuji · 3 months

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yandere bruce wayne headcanons

yandere bruce wayne x gn!reader

warnings: yandere behavior, gross guy bruce wayne, kidnapping, stalking, power imbalance, rich guy uses his rich guy money to manipulate reader, creepy guy being a creepy guy lol (lmk for anything i might've missed i am half-asleep)

im thinking ill write some actual fanfics for him soon, idk what TO write tho...

STALKKKERRRR STALEKER SJALKER STALKER!!!

he is a creature of the night so u KNOW he’s watching you from a rooftop next to ur apartment

think of the scene in the batman when he’s watching Selina undress and stuff yeah hes a peeper (hes so fine i love bruce)

my man doesn’t have any superpowers BUT hes literally the freaking batman, he has cameras all over gotham so i promise he has eyes on you at all times

he’ll watch over you and make sure ur not gonna get mugged by some loser with a gun or get caught up in a joker/ivy/freeze/whomever scheme

like hes stalking you

he knows everything abt u too with WE and the Batcomputer (lol) he’ll have all ur personal info on file, ur twitter acc, your Instagram, any social media, literally everything on a separate file that is locked behind multiple passwords and eye scans (especially if we’re looking at bruce with kids like he knows they’d open the file and snoop)

if we’re looking at pattinson!batman/early years, he’s probably gonna write abt u in his diary journal (hes just a silly little guy)

he’ll try to give you a job at wayne enterprises to keep an eye on you as bruce (obvi becuz he cant be batman 24/7) (job depends on your experience and degree) (he’ll want u as a personal assistant or something but depending on your area of expertise… you’re probably not gonna accept lol)

if u do accept for a position as assistant/secretary, he’ll have your desk 3 ft away, he’ll be calling u into his office just to talk, basically like sort of training u to be his wife (get coffee, make lunch/get lunch, invite u to be his plus one for galas) all that jazz, he’ll flirt with u but ur gonna be like “oh that’s just brucie wayne being brucie wayne, but once u get comfortable in ur role, he’ll start making moves like hand on the lower back, pressing against u in any situation possible, he’ll never seem creepy (yet) but it’ll make u slightly uncomfortable considering he’s ur boss.

i can think of 2 possibilities that could occur

1. creepiest boss ever. he’ll order u how to dress to be his assistant/how to dress at galas (skimpy dresses, short skirts, tight pants, tight fitting dress shirts that exposes everything, shit like that), he’ll LEER at u like bruce will purposely drop stuff and make u pick it up so he can watch u bend over. like the worst. you’ll get tired of this behavior and quit and bruce will get angry and kidnap u

2. still creepy but not as bad. more like extravagant gifts, vacations, parties. he’ll still flirt and try to have as much physical contact with u as possible but he knows where to draw the line. you wouldn’t quit cuz yk great pay, okay boss. but like his feelings would get too much to contain and he’ll kidnap u in the end anyway

if i had to diagnose the batmans i care abt id sayyyy 1 is Affleck, 2 is bale, and Pattinson is a mix of both. comic batman has so many different writers and each run has a different personality for him saur depends on the writer lmao

u wouldn’t be able to date cuz of yk…….. WE rules………… but he’ll get tired of that taboo/secret relationship bs pretty quickly and just kidnap u

if u don’t accept a position as an assistant/secretary, he gets it but more than likely, his feelings for u will intensify and he’ll end up taking you to keep at wayne manor

before getting into when ur stuck at wayne manor, lets break down bruce’s thoughts abt u

he has put u on a PEDESTAL

ur amazing, beautiful, gorgeous, u. can. do. no. wrong.

in his mind, ur the light to his darkness

alfred totally enables him and if we’re talking dilf bruce, the kids learn from him so they just assume this is what love is, kidnapping and manipulation

you’d adjust to life at wayne manor (not quickly but yk mf is RICH, ur gonna be treated so well once u understand that u cant leave)

bruce wouldn’t torture u but he’d pavlov u for sure

you would only be given comfort and relief when ur around him/good to him

if ur not good, then he’d probably keep u locked up in the batcave or in any of the many empty rooms at the manor

bruce wayne is the most powerful and influential person, ANDD has THE most powerful people on the planet as his best friends… you’re stuck with him babes

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ange1princess · 2 years

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Summary❕Watching p0rn with the demon brothers and what you'd watch.

Characters❕ Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Satan, Beelzebub, Belphegor

CW❕ Mutual masturbation, general NSFW, blowjobs, mentions of afab genitalia but no pronouns used, the word daddy used like once, thigh riding, blowjobs, male masturbation, semi-public sex (fucking at a party in a bathroom), tbh more suggestive than anything because i got so tired with this piece T_T probably grammar and spelling mistakes, let me know if i missed anything.

A/N ❕ This has taken almost a Month to write GOD ITS FINALLY DONE update ! It took over a month jfc T_T

Masterlist ❕

❕MDNI❕

❕𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑❕

🧷 Age gap porn kinda guy, dilf shit, and thigh riding

❝ He pretends that it isn't his idea, tries to pass it off as yours so that it's less embarassing for him, with a sighs he says "Well if you really want to try it out." Gets the idea from asmo because they were talking one day and he said something along the lines of "It'll add spice in your life~" and Lucifer hopes that's true.

❝ The two of you sit down at his desk, even when he wants a break he can't get one. He has you sitting on his lap as he tries to sign papers, telling you to give him just another minute and how this is the "last" document. You're bored so you go ahead and set up your phone, going to your chats and clicking on one of the many links he's sent you for your special night.

❝ That seems to get his attention as you prop it up against the pile of papers he's been looking over. Soft moans and whispers of "daddy please" and "more" mixed with muffled sobs make you wetter than they should.

❝ Without realising it, you start grinding down on his thigh, as much as he tries to continue working he can't once he sees your face contorted in pleasure as you try to get some relief, clutching onto Lucifers shirt in your balled up fists.

❝ He guides your hips against his thigh, ocassionally moving it to match the rhythm you've set. His eyes are full of lust, focused on the movement of your hips as he leans back on his chair, palming himself through his slacks, a guttural moan escaping his lips.

❝ The videos been long over now, and the only sound is of Lucifer calling you a good human and asking you to please him for the rest of the night.

❕𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍❕

🧷 POV blowjob vids and dry humping <3

❝ Suggests it while stuttering and blushing, ssaying that it's an honour for you that the great mammon wants to share such an intimate thing with you, but secretly he just wants to make you more comfortable with sharing your interests with him in the process.

❝ When you agree to it, he just asks you if you're free by texting you and if you say yes, he's there barging right in with his DDD in hand and a pillow for some bizarre reason (he's going to spend the night 100%).

❝ He sets up the device against a stack of pillows and gets comfortable, inching closer to you till there's no space left, swinging an arm around your waist as he mindlessly draws circles on the soft skin of your waist. The videos start and although you don't feel too aroused especially at the start, when you see mammon squirm and try to adjust himself "discreetly" you start shifting in your seat, a warmth blooming in the pit of your stomach.

❝ As the people on screen grind against each other fully clothed and you see mammon strain against his jeans, he tries to hide his little pants and sighs, but you being the observant one, you notice.

❝ You take the chance and straddle his lap, doing just as you saw in the video as he straightens his back to help you move your hips as the layers of clothes between you two only add to the friction as you speed up chasing your high, mammon telling you to go faster, his head thrown back and his hair a mess as you grab at it pushing his head to your chest.

❝ He helps you take off your top and leaves marks on your chest as he sucks on your nipples making you cry out in pleasure. It's not long before the both of you are cumming hard and you fall against his chest trying to catch your breath as you hear him say, "Fuck, well that sure made me feel younger."

❕𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍❕

🧷 Ik people want me to say some cosplay stuff, but i truly wholeheartedly believe it's student x teacher roleplay and temperature play for some reason

❝ OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT, initially you'll walk in on him trying to roleplay with an AI bot or a brand new game he purchased from Akuzon, while the p0rn would be playing in the background. He'd just be sitting there, dick out, not even realising that you've been standing there for at least 3 minutes now before you clear your throat, causing him to fall off his chair and scramble to cover himself up.

❝ He'd be convinced that you hate him now, that you think he's gross and pervy, and wouldn't want to be around him anymore, he might cry a little ngl. But before he knows it, you're texting him, asking him to come to your room with whatever device he was watching the videos on and he's more than happy to oblige, almost falls off of his chair but saves himself this time.

❝ When he enters your room, you ask if you can watch with him and he almost passes out because of how red he gets but he agrees almost too enthusiastically. The two of you sit there watching as you move your hand up his thigh and feel him stiffen under you, you turn to him giving him a seductive gaze and he gets where you're going with this, flipping you on your back, towering over you.

❝ He'd look bigger like this, towering over you now, not slouching anymore as he slowly kisses down your jaw, leaving marks down the side of your neck as he asks you to call him "professor" or the likes. He'd want to take control here, his desire as a demon overpowering his shy nature.

❝ He'd be quick to rid himself if his clothes as you underess yourself, bending you over the edge of your bed and asking you why you've been "naughty in his class", the next time he'll remember to bring some candles and ice for the two of you to try~

❕𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒❕

🧷 SOFT SEX!! SOFT PASSIONATE AMATEUR SEX VIDEOS, PROBABLY SHOWS YOU HOME VIDEOS HE'S MADE!!

❝ You cannot tell me that he doesn't come up to you asking you seductively if it would be okay to film the two of you the next time you have sex, he'd promise it's not for anyone but the two of you and he's able to convince you.

❝ Suggests the two of you watch home videos or amateur ones together to get a "how to" (he just wants to watch them with you, and he'd say it but this is easier and faster).

❝ When he plays the videos initially, the intimacy and passion, the closeness of the people on screen makes you look away. It feels as if you're interrupting or watching something that's not meant for you, but asmo brings you back, his fingers gently guiding your eyes back to the screen as he whispers in your ear to, "watch and learn".

❝ Shows you solo vids too, and you can recognise instantly that one of them is asmo, as he plays with himself, moving his fist along his length at an excruciatingly slow pace, letting out his pretty moans as he keeps edging himself, bringing himself to the precipice of pleasure but not letting himself orgasm.

❝ You turn to him, asking him if the two of you can try to recreate something like that right now and he's more than happy to oblige.

❕𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍❕

🧷 Pet play, and sex toys

❝ He loves calling you kitten or puppy (it's rare but it happens) and you know he has a thing for pet play even if he doesn't tell you, secretly bought a collar for you with his name on it and is too shy to give it to you, so his next best idea is to suggest the two of you watch some of his favourite p0rn together!

❝ Probably says that he read an article that says it increases intimacy and just wants to try it out with his beloved kitten, and so you agree, not that it takes a lot of convincing.

❝ It starts out with someone on their knees in a cage, as the person on the other side of the camera unlocks it's door, allowing them to crawl out. You hear coos of "good kitty" and "such a good pet" being uttered and it makes your palms sweaty with anticipation.

❝ Satan has a pillow on his lap, a feeble attempt to hide the imprint of his dick that's hard against his pants as he shifts around to try and get more comfortable as the scenes on the screen change and when you look back, you're greeted with the sight of a person tied to the bed with a vibrator against their clit as they try to struggle out of the binds.

❝ Turns to you and asks you how you're feeling, and all you can do is take his hand in yours and move them between your legs as he feels you getting wet, he runs his fingers up and down the soaked patch on your panties as you try to pull away, embarassed.

❝ He turns away for a moment, ruffling through something's in his bedside drawer and pulls out a collar with his name on it, dangling it in front of you, as your eyes widen and you life move closer to him, signalling him to collar you and he does.

❝ He gives it an experimental tug as a whimper tumbles out of you, heat rises to his cheeks but he chuckles nonetheless, you look so sweet like this, he thinks to himself as he leans forward, his fingers sliding your underwear aside, playing with you as he kisses your pretty lips with fervor.

❕𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁❕

🧷 Loves oral vids obviously, but also a big fan of wall sex vids, mirror sex and exhibitionism

❝ The both of you have extremely open conversations, Beel never keeps anything from you in terms of his desires and you do the same, the trust the both of you have in each other is what helps him grow bolder with his advances as time goes on.

❝ Comes up to you and tells you he wants to try something out, and you nod without even knowing what it is because of your faith in beel, he'd never do anything that would hurt you and would stop the second you want to.

❝ The two of you enter your room as he sits on the bed with you in his lap, holding his phone for the two of you to watch the video he puts on as both his arms are wrapped around you.

❝ But before you can go further as the guy in the video tries to muffle their partners moan, so that they don't attract any attention in the tiny bathroom stall, a quick knock at the door startled the two of you, causing the both of you two cover yourselves up, keeping the phone aside, faces hot and palms sweaty.

❝ After that little interruption, the both of you got caught up in helping with the preparation of another one of Diavolos balls. It had been 2 weeks since then and you still thought about it, wanting to touch beel and wanting him to show you stars.

❝ You couldn't help but gawk and him as he descended the stairs in his suit, looking like he came right out of a romcom. You waited with baited breath as he whispered, "You look beautiful as always," addressing you, before you linked your arm with his, wanting the night to end so that you can finally have some alone time with your love.

❝ Turns out, for someone extremely patient, Beel was starting to get jittery seeing you in your revealing outfit, he kept stealing glances, letting his hands linger on your waist, pulling you closer everytime someone asked you to dance with them.

❝ Before long, the both of you snuck out to one of Diavolos lavish bathrooms as he bent you over the marbel platform in front of the mirror. The loud music penetrated through the unlocked door, but the thrill of anyone finding you (even though you knew that you were in a more secluded part of the castle), made a shiver run down your spine.

❝ It didn't take long before your clothes were pulled aside as beel kissed you with a ferocity you'd rarely seen before, his hands hot on your skin as he slowly entered you making you squeal, only for your loud moans being swallowed by his lips that danced against yours.

❝ It wouldn't have been your first choice to continue the evening with cum leaking out of you, but fuck was it worth it.

❕𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑❕

🧷 ik everyone will say somnophilia ! So i will not, mutual masturbation, cockwarming and heavy degradation

❝ Man started watching porn in bed next to you when he thought you're asleep, but you weren't as you peeked over his shoulder, his cock in his hand as a low sigh escaped his red lips to the filthy words being muttered on screen.

❝ "You're such a fucking slut for me aren't you?" He said to nobody in particular, but you knew it was you in his mind. You cleared your throat, breaking him out of his trance, but he didn't care enough to cover up , instead letting out a humorless chuckle.

❝ "Aren't you naughty? If you wanted watch, you could've asked sweetheart~", he said, turning over, giving you a better view as your lips watered, you were about to bend over, moving your lips to his head, wanting to lick at the precum coating it but he tutted.

❝ "No touching whore," he said before instructing you to sit back, "It's a bit unfair how you get to see me hot and bothered, but I don't, isn't it? Maybe you can help me out here and play with your pretty self," he suggested and you could no longer ignore the wetness between your thighs as you peeled off your panties.

❝ He let out a moan at the sight, his hand moving faster as you started touching yourself too. It didn't take long before both of you came, trying to chase your own high, you didn't notice when he came mere inches from your face, kissing you gently, pushing your body back onto the bed.

❝ "I need to be inside you right now," he said, his breathing still heavy as you nodded, letting him, it didn't take him long to slip into you, your wetness being enough to let him in without much restriction. The two of you sighed in unison, as he held you close to him, just wanting to go back to bed with the feeling of you around him.

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auteurdelabre · 6 months

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Something to Fight For (Series) (PART 3)

Word Count: 7.7

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no age or physical descriptions)

Warnings: This is saccharine slice of life with smut and a Soft!Joel. You have been warned. There is swearing, there is smut, but when it gets to those chapters you will have plenty of warning. (That is if there is interest in my story!)

A/N: This is part of a series (lots of angst, pining and smut ahead) Also despite Sarah's young age Joel is early 40's in this because slightly grey babygirl DILF Joel is the best Joel.

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The bus groans the curb at the end of Rancher Street, the doors hissing as they open.

It's embarrassing to be taking a bus to a fucking babysitting job at your age. Equally embarrassing to not have a vehicle in the first place because your ex boyfriend convinced you he needed it more for his gigs and since you were dating and in love at the time, you'd readily accepted that reasoning.

You step off the bus, walking hurriedly up the suburban street with your purse over one shoulder and a Wal-Mart bag in your right hand.

A few houses are bustling with laughing kids, not surprisingly so given that it's the start of a lazy Texas fall. They chase each other squealing with delight. Others are playing hide and seek. You smile at this before looking into your purse at the sound of your phone ringing.

"Hey Mom, what's up?"

"Hi bug," comes your mother's tired voice on the other end of the line. Immediately you tense, the fatigue clear in her tone. Instinctively you’ve curled into yourself, as if the weight of her words will cause a physical strike.

"Is everything okay?"

"Got a bit of good news," she assures you with a soft sigh. "Doctor says maybe April, maybe. But that's only if. . . You know."

"Yeah, I know."

There's a long pause in which you can hear the static sound of hospital beeps and intercoms. Then her voice is back, fainter than before.

"Do you think you might come visit?"

You lower the phone from your ear, unable to listen to this request. The same request you've received for the last eight months. The same request you’ve denied over and over.

"I don't think it's a good idea," you say when you finally bring the phone back to your ear. The house’s address glints in the fading sunlight, drawing your attention. "Anyway, I gotta go to work. Love you."

You close your cell phone before she even has the chance to say goodbye. With a hollow feeling in your stomach you focus on the note you'd written yourself with Joel's address, double checking you’ve got the right place.

You look up to see a modest looking home with dark yellow exterior and white accents. For some reason this strikes you as odd, not meshing with the vision you have of the man.

The lawn is well maintained, the porch sturdy and polished looking. This doesn't surprise you given his career. There is a rocking chair out the front porch and you imagine Joel sitting there and scaring all the neighborhood children.

You knock on the heavy wooden door feeling strangely out of place. You're still not sure why Joel wanted you of all people to babysit Sarah. Joel with his strict adherence to all things his way or the highway.

You hear heavy footsteps over creaking wood floors approaching the door and you subconsciously tense.

Joel opens the door wide and you note that with his hair slicked back from the shower, curling past his ears he resembles his younger brother more. He's dressed in dark slacks and a white button down. A narrow black tie hangs loosely at his lean throat. You'd say he cleans up nice but under all of that he's still annoying Joel Miller.

He eyes the Wal-Mart bag in your hand with suspicion before darting his dark eyes back to your face.

"What's in there?"

"Crayons, coloring books," you glance into the plastic bag to remind yourself. "Snacks. Water."

"You think I don't have those things here?" Joel says in a voice that sounds neither amused or irritated.

“Never been here," you shrug. "Wasn't sure what to expect."

He says nothing more but his broad shouldered frame recedes back, allowing you space to enter. You walk over the threshold, your eyes scanning his place.

The house looks like every other box home on the street, which surprises you. You'd assumed that as a carpenter there would be more artistic touches like in Frank and Bill's home.

It's more nondescript with dark burgundy walls and a kitchen table littered with mail and that mornings cereal bowls (you pray it's from that morning). Joel seems to notice your gaze because he promptly reaches over and takes them to the sink.

"Sarah goes to bed at seven thirty. She's already in her pyjamas. All she needs is to brush her teeth." Joel is rinsing the bowls and putting them in the dishwasher.

"Snacks are in there.” He points to the tall pantry door. "And I've left my cell, her doctor's number and Tommy's, not that it'll do you any good because he's an island away on some romantic retreat. Anything goes wrong you call me."

You nod, your attention drawn to studying your surroundings. This place seems too domestic, almost bland. After a cursory look around you decide that it doesn't fit Joel.

But then again what does? A funeral home? A crypt?

"Shouldn't be home too late," Joel mutters, wiping his damp hands on the fuzzy hand towel hanging from the arm of the stove.

"Okay." You think of his meeting he’s going to tonight. "Good luck with the bid."

"Thanks," Joel says distractedly moving to the bottom of the stairs and calling up. "Sarah! The candy lady is here!"

He must see the confusion on your face because an uncharacteristic smirk is tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"She's been talking about her friend 'the candy lady' every day since she met you," he explains. "Guess you made an impression."

You realize now that this is why Joel wanted you to babysit. Because Sarah won't stop talking about you. You feel strangely touched by that, given that you'd only interacted with her for ten minutes.

You have no time to respond to Joel because Sarah is at the top of the stairs in dolphin pyjamas’ and her freshly washed hair in plaited pigtails. When she sees you her face breaks into a wide smile.

"You're here!"

Holdig the railing she climbs down the stairs as fast as her short legs will allow. You can't help but find her enthusiasm endearing. She stands in front of you seconds later, her cheeks flushed with delight. Her mouth is smeared with that looks like blue icing. In one hand she holds the infamous toad, the other stretches out to you.

"Wanna play Barbies?"

"Not so fast," Joel says as he drops to his knees, capturing her eyes with his as he uses the hand towel to wipe away the icing at the curve of her mouth. "You be good, huh?"

"Yes Daddy," Sarah says but her eyes are on you, distracted. "I have a mermaid Barbie and ---"

"Sarah," Joel says bringing her attention back to him with his tone. "You listen to her and you go to bed when you're supposed to or there's no park tomorrow. Love you."

He presses a kiss to the top of her head and pauses when Sarah presses a small hand to his elbow and holds up toad.

"Don't forget, daddy."

Joel gives a short sigh before giving toad a peck on the top of his fuzzy head. You hold in a smirk at this.

"G'night toad. Make sure Sarah brushes her teeth."

Joel stands, shaking his head amused when Sarah immediately turns her attention back to you almost shouting your name.

"Want me to show you my toys?"

"Sure," you say allowing her to take your hand and guide you into the den. She excitedly begins showing you the large collection she has.

Within minutes you're laughing so hard at something Sarah says that you don't hear Joel leave, closing the door gently behind him.

Sarah is a funny kid. You'd suspected it after you first met her, but an hour later this opinion is solidified. She's currently got her Barbie on a date with her stuffed toad. When you asked her why this was she hadn't even taken a pause before responding.

"You said you had toad boyfriends so Barbie has one too."

You continue on like this for a bit until Sarah decides she wants to show you her Pokémon cards, and then her Polly pockets. It goes on like this until the carpet is littered with her toys.

The den where you sit and play feels warm and lived in. The plush sofa is under a large window. To one side is the fireplace with a television mounted overhead. The DVD player is set up to the side in a cabinet that also houses many kids DVDs and plenty of board games. The coffee table is a light wood, holding a remote, TV guide and several coloring books.

On the other side of the room is a large wicker basket that houses most of Sarah's toys and a built-in unit that holds a record player and a very impressive looking vinyl collection. On the wall hang three guitars, all beautifully maintained but dusty from disuse.

A quick glance at your watch confirms it's almost seven thirty. Normally you wouldn't be too stringent but you don't know how Joel would be if he knew you'd let her stay up. You’re not friends with Joel, barely even on good terms and you have no interest in getting in even deeper to his bad books.

"Okay bug," you say without thinking. "Time for bed."

"My name isn't bug," she says exasperatedly, as if you're the silliest idiot she's ever come across. "It's Sarah remember?"

"I remember," you say good-naturedly as you begin to put the toys she'd brought out back in the big toy basket. "It's just what my mom calls me sometimes. Just slipped out, sorry."

Sarah looks at you for a long while, her tiny face thoughtful. After a beat she helps you load the basket of toys back up. When you're finished she looks over at you seriously, her large eyes unblinking up at you.

"You can call me bug if you want."

You nod before standing, holding a hand out to her.

"Time to brush those teeth," you say cheerfully as if brushing one's teeth is one of the world's most exciting pastimes.

"I already did," Sarah says looking at the Pokémon cards still in her hands. She's not paying attention to you.

"Sure," you say with an eye roll. "Well I'm glad you did otherwise the sugar monsters would never leave you alone."

Sarah pauses, sharply darting her eyes to yours as the cards are dropped into the toy basket. "Sugar monsters?"

"Oh yeah," you say casually. "They eat the tongues of children who don't brush their teeth. I guess because of the sugar."

You pretend to busy yourself folding a nearby blanket. But you can hear the wheels turning in her young head.

"You're lying," Sarah finally says with a conviction that belies the terror clearly shown in her face.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," you shrug with a voice full of sunshine. "But you don't have to worry about that, Sarah. You said you brushed your teeth, right?"

Sarah looks conflicted as you head towards the stairs. After a moment of deep contemplation she comes to a solution.

"I'll brush them again just in case."

"Good idea."

You smile guiding her upstairs even though you have no idea where the bathroom or even her bedroom is. She’s chatting to you, distracting you so that when you push open the first door on your left, you’re surprised to find out it's Joel's bedroom. You know this immediately because this feels like Joel.

Grey walls with navy wainscotting halfway up surround a very neat but very plain bedroom. One large window with closed blinds overlooks an old dresser with a half opened bottom drawer. A white t-shirt is half-hung over it.

The bed itself is plain and made with tan sheets under a navy coverlet and two off white pillows. A white fan stands in the corner whirring the late heat gently. There are no pictures on the walls aside from a framed photo of a horse above the bed.

Jesus, why must men above a certain age put horses on everything?

You think this as your eyes catch sight of the lotion bottle on the nightstand beside the bed. It doesn’t strike you as strange at first, but it's the unopened box of Kleenex next to it that sends you backing out of the room at a quick pace almost knocking Sarah over.

"Oops."

Sarah is laughing at your horrified reaction, pulling your hand to the bathroom.

It's clearly hers because it's decorated with a purple bath mat and she's got a small sparkly purple toothbrush beside bubblegum flavored toothpaste. She even has a purple spotted stool to stand on so she can reach the sink.

You watch her brush her teeth thoroughly, pausing only to ask you if sugar monsters like bubblegum flavored toothpaste (you assure her they do not).

Then she leads you to her bedroom, pressing the door open with both hands as you enter behind her.

Her bed with its ceiling gripped canopy is a light lavender color. The walls are a pale lilac. Her sheets are purple with little white roses all over them. The dresser on the far side is a light eggplant and the fuzzy chair in the corner next to the bookshelf is a mix of purple shades.

"I have never seen so much purple in all my life," you say in awe.

"It's my favorite color."

She pulls herself onto her bed with a grunt, making sure that toad is propped up next to her before slipping under the covers.

"Daddy always reads me a book before bed."

You have no way of knowing if this is true but the sun hasn't quite set in the window and you feel like you can still hear some of the older kids outside having fun. You remember how torturous that felt when you were a kid.

"Which one?"

"Curious George."

You go to her little bookshelf and bring out one of the slim yellow books. You smile at her as you shuffle back, going to sit at the bottom of her bed to read when she sits up.

"You lay here," Sarah informs you pointing to the pillow next to her.

Bossy little thing.

You do as she instructs before opening the book to read. You make sure that she can see all the pictures and you tell the story of how curious George got his own bike.

Sarah interrupts you only once to tell you that she herself has a purple bicycle and you respond with what you feel is an appropriate level of enthusiasm. Other than that she lays next to you quietly looking at the pictures, and twisting a tendril of your hair absently through her fingers.

"You do good voices," Sarah tells you when you finish the book. You know that it's the truth because children could care less when it comes to protecting someone's feelings.

"Thanks, you're a good audience."

You bring the sheets to her chin and smile down at her. On impulse you give her forehead a tiny peck and she grins up at you.

"Night, bug."

"G'night."

You turn on her little star nightlight before you go, shutting the door quietly behind you.

You walk back to the den and pop on the TV. It's only eight, who knows when Joel will be back. You're not really too put out - this evening turned out much better than you expected. Sarah is so sweet and funny, plus seeing Joel with her makes interacting with him a little more bearable.

He's still not your favorite person by any stretch of the imagination, but it is easier to think of seeing him in the future at events hosted by Maria and Tommy.

A buzz comes from your hip and you flip open your phone reading the text that's just come through.

i really think u and I need 2 c each other

With a frown you shove your phone back into your pocket.

You plop onto the sofa and turn on the TV. Friends is playing but even as you watch your focus drifts to the room around you and lands on those hanging guitars from before.

You think of the song that you used to sing in another life, in front of a cheering crowd as you bring down the nearest guitar (a Taylor 314ce if you’re not mistaken) tugging the strap over your shoulder. You strum absently before starting to sing softly.

"We're talking away. I don't knowwwwhat I'm to sayyyawwshit," you fumble the chords but get back in tune. "I'll say it anyway. Today is another day to find -"

You pause when you think you hear the sound of creaking wood. A few moments of silence pass and you pull off the guitar and set it on the sofa. You creep silently to the bottom of the stairs expecting to catch Sarah trying to sneak down but, no, nothing is there. It's just the sound of the house settling.

You give yourself an internal shake before heading into the kitchen. You dig around in the Wal-Mart bag you brought and pour one of your coke cans into a mug with ice. You pull out the coloring book and crayons you bought. You forgot to tell Sarah about them earlier. You decide to just leave them there on the counter as a gift for her to wake up to tomorrow.

You open the book cover open and with a crayon you write a simple message:

To Sarah,

Make the world a little more colorful.

Love Toad

Still sipping your coke you go back to the den, wandering around the space slowly. In the quiet of the night you have time to look around in more detail. There is a large painting of a deer in a beautiful landscape by the back door (men and animals, Christ) and you come upon several framed photos hung on the walls.

One of them is Joel holding Sarah when she was just a baby. Another one of Tommy and Sarah on the Ferris wheel waving to the photographer (undoubtedly Joel). There aren't really any recent ones though and not one of any woman who could be Sarah's mother.

This seems so strange to you. You've known plenty of divorced people that still co-parent. But you barely know Joel and can't ask him why his situation is so different. Maybe if you were to ask Maria... But then again that would mean you had actual interest in Joel's personal life and that was pushing it. As soon as you left this house you would go back to your mutual ambivalence.

You pause when you hear the sound of Joel's truck pulling up into the driveway, a low rumble out the front door. A glance at your watch tells you it's only ten, and you hope everything went well for him. If it did that means Tommy will get to continue to spoil Maria.

Joel walks in a few minutes later. His hair is dry now and you can see the curls wave slightly when he enters the kitchen. You approach him slowly, watching as he shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on the back of a nearby chair.

"How did the bid go?"

"Won't know until Tuesday but felt pretty good," Joel acknowledges. "Kathleen's tough to read sometimes. How was Sarah? She give you any trouble?"

"Nah, she was great actually," you admit with a grin. "She's a cool kid."

Joel raises his brows at this and you wonder if telling a parent their kid is cool is weird. For the second time this month you're wishing you knew more about kids.

"She brush her teeth?"

"Yep."

"Good. She's always fighting me on it."

You see Joel reach for his wallet and cringe. You’d forgotten about this part of the evening and for some reason being paid by him feels embarrassing. You’re not a teenager doing this for shopping money. This is just a favor.

"I'm gonna head out."

"I'm paying you for your time," Joel insists, his brows furrowing. "You did me a favor."

"Not really," you reason as you bring your purse over your shoulder. "It was Maria I was doing the favor for. If I didn't, she and Tommy couldn't have gone away."

Joel falters and you hope he didn't take what you said the wrong way. It makes you think of the first time you met, how a simple miscommunication fucked everything from the start.

Maybe it's time to just get everything out in the open.

"Hey, the first night we met," you begin but see Joel's eyes go to the den and harden. Your gaze follows suit and you see the guitar sitting on the sofa.

"Oh shit, I forgot to put it b-"

"You played it?" Joel demands. His tone leads you to believe that no worse thing could happen to an instrument than being played.

"Uh, yeah," you say pausing a moment. "It was covered in dust so I figured it doesn't get played much."

"You always go to people's houses and touch their shit without permission?"

Woah. Where did that come from?

Weren't you just about to lower your proverbial weapons?

Joel is suddenly fuming and you find yourself own anger spiking in response.

"Nope, only when I'm doing them favors."

"Thought it wasn't a favor for me?" Joel snarks.

Fuck this.

You pull on your purse and leave without another word.

/// /// /// /// ///

It's Sunday afternoon. You are at James' apartment in the trendy part of Austin working on the sanctuary proposal.

At least that's what you said you were going to do.

He currently has you bent over his kitchen counter with your jeans and panties around your ankles as he fucks you hard from behind.

"You feel so fucking good," James pants over you, his face contorted in pleasure. He thrusts into you from behind, one hand gently placed at the small of your back. "Taking my cock so well,"

He continues to groan above you as you hold in an eye roll, your cheek rasping against the cool marble counter. Dirty talk doesn't sound right coming from James.

Aside from that, he's really not bad at all, above average in size and he has a healthy respect for foreplay. It's just your mind is elsewhere and you can't really find it in yourself to surrender to the pleasure.

He grunts lowly in his throat, his hips slamming into your ass with vulgar slapping noises. You try to get into it, but after what feels like an eternity you glance over your shoulder between thrusts and just tell him to finish.

"You're distracted," James observes a short while later after you've both washed up. He gives a long sniff, looking at you anxiously.

"Yeah," you nod, sitting across from him at his table. You've got your notes in front of you, along with some amateur blueprints you've come up with. "Lots of pent up energy."

"Normally sex helps with that," James says looking nervous, like it's his fault you didn't come. It's really not, but considering this was your first attempt at a casual hookup you can see why he may be a bit anxious.

"Just a lot on the go," you explain. "Nothing to do with you."

"Is it the grant?"

"Partly," you nod. "I'm pretty pissed off about it. I know that we did what we needed to do, but that doesn't mean I'm happy that the kennels are yet again delayed."

James looks at you nodding. "Wish I could help."

"You did all you could," you relent. "Without you we never wouldn't have gotten money to get the office fixed and apparently it was in critical condition."

"Still, I'm sorry about the kennels."

"Yeah, me too," you admit before going back to the blueprints.

It’s probably not fair but you blame Joel for it. You’re convinced if he hadn’t come in and shoved his big nose into things that weren’t his business you would have your kennels. Then again maybe you’re still just pissed off about last night.

The two of you work quietly across from one another until James pipes up again.

"Do you think we should try more than just sex?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "I'm not interested in, like, role-playing stuff if that's what you're suggesting."

James gives an embarrassed laugh. "No. I meant maybe we should try doing other things like, I dunno, going to the movies or something?"

Going to the movies?

You weren't expecting this from James. You'd thought this casual sex thing was a good idea and could work quite nicely for the both of you. After Paul you'd just wanted a physical release without the emotion. James had been such a nice, easy choice.

Up until now, that is.

"Not really," you say before pausing, considering the bluntness of your reply and the knowledge that you have to work with this man seated across from you. "Unless, you were thinking we should?"

"I mean, I think it'd be nice," James says with a shrug of his shoulders.

You take a moment to look at him objectively. When you'd first started working with one another a few years ago you remember thinking he was decent looking. He'd dropped numerous hints but you'd been with Paul and weren't a cheater, so the attraction had never been something you focused on.

Now though, with his light eyes and sandy brown hair normally hidden under a green cap you can admit he's cute. He's tall and lithe and dresses like a retired pastor, but bad fashion isn't a deal breaker for you.

"Okay. Sure."

He looks impossibly relieved.

"How about Saturday? There's that new zombie flick showing at seven."

"Sounds great"

/// /// /// /// /// ///

"Tommy better get here soon. I refuse to be disqualified because your boyfriend has poor time management skills."

Maria and you are sitting in a booth in the back of the Tipsy Bison. It's a busy night with trivia and wings being the big selling point. You and Maria love both. Maria has just finished telling you all about her weekend away ("I'm so into him. I think I love him!") And is now into her second helping of wings.

"He still has ten minutes," Maria defends, looking at her wristwatch before biting into another piece of lemon pepper chicken.

Tommy has been joining you at your trivia nights every so often and you don't actually mind at all. He fits in with your humor and he's great at the sports categories.

"We wanted to try that new tapas place next weekend. You wanna come?"

"Can't. Got a date."

Maria drops the wing bone onto her plate with a dramatic flair that feels completely unnecessary.

"Excuse me? Since when?"

"Since James asked me," you reply, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. You put all your attention on your Cajun wing, hoping that your refusal to meet her eyes will get you off the hook.

"No way!" Maria is smiling widely. "James the accountant?"

"He does some of our finances if that's what you mean," you pause to take the quiz paper and golf pencil from the waitress. "Thanks."

"Have you slept together?"

Maria is staring at you and you write the name of your team at the top of the paper, pretending you didn't hear her. But the flush is back to your cheeks.

"I knew it!" Maria crows victoriously. She slaps the table loudly. "That's why you were in such a good mood on Sunday! I remember thinking 'no one is that excited to work on a weekend'."

"Well, good job detective," you say drolly. "Hopefully you can use those same skills for trivia tonight because I refuse to lose to those bitches again."

You glare over at the booth across from you at the group of silver-hairs that attend every trivia night like it's their job since retirement. They all wear oversized matching blue t-shirts with "Merryatrics" emblazoned on the front.

Myrtle, the leader of the group lowers her pint and slants a sneer at you that you emphatically return.

"We are not losing to Myrtle again," Maria swears. She's about to say something more when she smiles over your shoulder.

"Hey baby!"

Tommy saunters over, pressing a light kiss to her lips. You're about to greet him with a wave when another figure strides into your field of vision.

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

"Sarah's at a play date tonight so I dragged this guy out to join the team," Tommy says shaking off his jacket and taking a seat next to Maria. “Figured another person can only help.”

"You're soaked!" Maria clucks her tongue, sliding her arms around Tommy's middle.

"It's pissing down rain tonight," Tommy says with a nervous look out the window before pulling Maria closer to him. "Guess you'll have to warm me up, huh?"

You roll your eyes watching as Joel begins shrugging off his own jacket and hanging it off the hook at the end of the booth. He too is damp from the storm outside.

You go to say something cutting about not needing Joel to slow your team down but you can feel Maria's eyes on you.

Remember your promise. Remember the deal you made with Joel.

"Hey," he rasps glancing over at you with a wary look. "Hope you don't mind me joining."

"Not at all," Maria answers for you. "Come sit, it's about to start."

There's only the space next to you in the booth, so you squeeze closer to Maria as Joel slides in next to you. His thigh grazes yours before he orders a bottle of Lonestar for himself and Tommy.

"Storms pretty bad," Joel offers the table. "Heard it might get worse this week."

"Power outage might be just what we need," you say with a laugh.

"Yeah maybe that way we'll beat the Merryatrics," Maria frowns. "Sick of losing to them."

“Bitches.”

You think you can see Joel smirking at that. You shift to look at him out the corner of your eyes. Up so close to him you can see the patch on his chin where his beard doesn't quite touch, the lines between his brows and how dark his eyes are.

He's wearing a dark red flannel over a black t-shirt. You're surprised to find he smells pretty good considering he came from the job site and it’s raining like hell outside. He smells like wood shavings and laundry detergent.

"How did babysitting go?" Tommy asks you from the other end of the booth, his arm slung over Maria's shoulder as she leans into him. "We appreciate it by the way."

"Was no problem," you answer him honestly. "Sarah's a cool kid. Funny."

"Well she sure can't stop talking about you," Tommy says taking his bottle from the waitress. "When I saw her this morning she was working on some coloring page I was supposed to give to you. I left it in the truck."

"That's so sweet!" Maria gushes, her hand on her heart. She looks at you with gratitude and you hope that this interaction is enough to make up for being so hostile with Joel in the past.

"I'm sure you're exaggerating," you say shyly twisting the straw in your new water glass. "We just played some games and I read her a story."

"It's true," Joel rasps from beside you, surprising you. "Sarah can't stop talking about how much fun she had with you. And she's, uh, been asking when you're coming back."

He clears his throat as you glance over at him. It seems you really did make quite an impression on Sarah.

"Really?"

Joel nods over at you. His eyes dart along your face and he looks about to say something when a loud voice breaks over your group.

"Whose ready to do some sick triviaaaaaaaa?"

The four of you glance over at the host, a man in his twenties named Tyler who loves trivia more than he loves baggy jeans (and judging by the fact that you can see his boxers very clearly, he really loves baggy jeans). He makes sure every team has an answer sheet and pencil before he starts.

“First question we have today is about sports!” Tyler shouts over the growing crowd. What type of golf clubs are used for long shots from the tee or fairway?”

The Merryatrics begin writing hurriedly on their answer sheet as you and Maria exchange a look of disappointment. This is not a category either of you know much on. In desperation you decide to use your additional manpower.

"How much do you know about golf clubs, Joel?"

"Not much."

Great.

Thankfully it turns out that Tommy knows plenty when it comes to the category. You and Maria know most when it comes to the Math, Science and pop culture category. Joel has a strangely gifted knowledge of literature. And by the time the halfway scores are tallied you and the Merryatrics are tied for first place.

At the break you and Maria order more wings and the boys order burgers for themselves. Maria and Tommy chat quietly with one another, her head leaning on his shoulder sweetly. You notice she and Tommy have drunk far more than you and Joel.

You pick at your last Cajun wing, feeling strangely left out. You've never felt left out when with Tommy and Maria before. You muse it must be because Joel is here, and they think he is keeping you company.

Joel must be feeling similarly to you because he looks awkwardly around the bar, tipping the last of his first beer into his mouth. Out of the corner of your eyes you watch his lean neck bob as he swallows.

The music is soft in the back of the pub, lively and makes the mood between the two of you feel less tense despite the animosity you're still feeling towards him. As if he can feel your mind drifting to Saturday night Joel has shifted to turn his body more to face you in the booth.

"Sarah really did enjoy when you were over," Joel says in a rush, as if this conversation is hard for him. "She wanted me to ask you to come babysit her again. If you have time. And I'll pay you of course. I do insist on that, 'cuz it's a job and your time is worth something."

Memories of how your last babysitting job ended with Joel don't exactly kindle interest in this proposition. You thin your lips, turning the chicken wing over in your fingers as you contemplate before dropping it next to a half eaten piece of celery.

"And you can play all the guitars in the house that you want," Joel adds exhaling slowly, his focus fixed on you. "I'll even throw in a bongo drum if that'll seal the deal."

You know how much this must hurt him, having to ask you of all people for a favor. It's a testament to how much he loves his daughter and that's the only reason you don't make it more difficult for him.

"I was under the impression that babysitting Sarah was kind of Tommy's thing," you say, wiping your finger tips with the damp napkins provided. "I wouldn't want to intrude on that."

Joel motions to Tommy and Maria giggling to themselves at the end of the booth.

"If I'm honest, I think Tommy'll be even more excited to have you babysit than Sarah. It’ll free up more of his time."

The waitress arrives back with the burgers, placing them in front of the boys. You're thankful for the break. You need to think about this. Yes, you really enjoyed hanging with Sarah but more Joel time isn't exactly worth it.

"Do you and your girlfriend want more?" the waitress asks looking at Joel and motioning to the plate of half eaten wings in front of you. You go to assure the waitress that Joel Miller is not and never will be your boyfriend, but he’s already talking, distracted by your previous conversation.

"You want more?" Joel asks your surprised face. You shake your head and he turns back handing the bone-filled plate to the waitress. "Nah, thanks sweetheart."

The waitress takes it, smiling prettily at Joel before quickly moving from the table. You expect that Joel will be following her form sashaying away, but he’s distracted, looking at you waiting for your answer.

Thankfully you're rescued from answering his questioning look by Tyler who comes back with an air horn he beeps as he gets to the front of the room.

"Y'all ready for round two?!"

By the time you reach the final question Maria and Tommy are giggling drunken idiots and you and Joel are hunched over the beer stained answer sheet, focused intently on the young man with oversized pants at the front of the pub reading off his card.

"And for the final question of the final round," Tyler drawls dramatically. "This planet has the tallest mountain in the solar system.”

Fuck. Space has never really been your thing outside of the odd horoscope you read in the paper.

“And just to keep it interesting,” Tyler calls from the front. “An extra point goes to the team who can name this tallest mountain. You have one minute."

A hushed 'ooooo' goes through the pub at this. You turn your attention to the answer sheet, Maria's hand is gripping the gold pencil so tightly you're worried she might break it.

"Jupiter?" Maria offers through her drunken haze. "That's the one with rings right? It should have mountains."

"What kind of logic is that?"

"What about Uranus?" Tommy suggests with a short laugh that Maria grins at.

"Tommy this is serious and you're drunk," you tell him pointedly. Joel is quiet behind you, rubbing at his forehead with his eyes closed. He's probably just willing the game to end soon. You still haven’t given him an answer about Sarah and you have a feeling he’s just holding out for it.

Myrtle and her band of Merryatrics are writing and then looking over at you with smug smiles. It creates a blind panic in you that makes your mind draw a blank.

“Earth," you suggest inspired as the seconds tick by. "It's a trick, gotta be. Mount Everest."

Maria nods in agreement, and you watch her write down a sloppy "Earth/Mount Everest" on the sheet before a large hand stills your wrist. Joel chest presses into your shoulder as he moves in and drops his voice.

"It's Mars. Olympus Mons."

You look at Joel over your shoulder with a wrinkled nose. "What? How do you know that?"

"Sarah's really into space right now," Joel explains with a shy shrug. "She made me get her a bunch of books from the library. We were just reading one last week and it had this Olympus Mons on it, I’m positive."

You and Maria exchange a look. This answer determines whether or not you beat the seniors team. Myrtle and her team are chatting anxiously with one another. You give one last glance at Joel over your shoulder.

"Trust me."

You consider his words before turning back to Maria who had insisted on writing the answer despite her writing growing increasingly sloppy with each question. You take the pencil from her hand despite her protestations because you can't take a chance at fucking this up.

"Let's do it," you urge. "Mars. Olympus Mons."

You finish just as the final cow bell tolls. The papers are collected and brought to Tyler who says he will be reading out the winners shortly. The four of you are all sitting shoulder to shoulder, watching Tyler tally the scores from all the cards, so intent you almost don't hear Joel next to you.

"Fuck, now I'm not sure if was Mars. Maybe it was Jupiter."

You turn on him with wide eyes and a scowl. "Are you serious?"

"Nah," he says taking a sip from his water glass, his eyes dancing. "Just wanted to rile you up. Seems pretty easy to do."

You want to be irritated at that but instead you laugh in both relief and surprise. "Is it a crime to want to win? To be . . . "

You break off as you search for a word that sounds better than "terrifyingly intense in the face of trivia".

"Passionate?" Joel offers with a quirked brow.

"Exactly," you nod vigorously. "I'm just very passionate."

You smile at one another and you swear for a moment it almost looks like Joel checks you out. His eyes are darting around your face and trying to subtly dart to your collar without being obvious. You feel your cheeks get hot at the thought.

Tyler breaks into this moment with his long, squeaky voice.

"And the winners are... the Quizards of Oz!”

You've won.

After 7 months of trying to knock those geriatric fucks out of the trivia top spot, you’ve done it.

"YES!"

Maria whirls into Tommy's arms, pumping her fist in the air with a shriek. You are equally enthused, half standing in the booth and giving a loud roar of victory before pointing at Myrtle and the rest of the seniors who give you baleful looks.

"BEAT YOU! YES! TAKE THAT YOU HAGS!"

Joel is staring up at you half crouched in the booth pointing aggressively at a group of angry looking seniors before his eyes go over to see Tommy and Maria making out passionately.

You drop back into your seat, your face flushed. Joel looks incredulously from the angry senior citizens group back over to you pink and giggling.

"Do I want to know what has you brutal enemies with a group of eighty-year-old women?"

"They know what they did," you say giving the group of glaring old women a sneer.

The waitress comes over with your bills after this. You all pay and the waitress pulls out an envelope from her apron pocket.

"Congrats y'all," she says handing you the envelope. "Didn't think we'd ever see the Merryatrics lose!"

"S'bout time!" Maria slurs from beside you.

You take the envelope with pride, tucking it into your purse and sighing back into your booth as if you just succeeded in being accepted into the hall of fame.

You notice the waitress push something across the table to Joel, it looks like it is another receipt but you recognize looping handwriting with a name and what you can only assume is her phone number. You notice the tips of Joel's ear pinking as he notices it, but he turns his attention over to you, amused at your blissed-out reaction to winning.

"What's the prize?"

"A ten dollar gift certificate here."

"That's it?" Joel laughs - actually laughs - at this. "All that work for a ten bucks to a pub with barely passable food?"

"It's the principle!" you snicker back, tickled at his reaction.

Joel smiles at you, but this is a new one. This smile you've not had directed at you before. It makes his eyes crinkle until they almost disappear, his teeth shining and the dimple in his right cheek deepens.

"And winning has put me in such a good mood that I'm gonna agree to babysit for you, Miller."

"Really?"

"Yeah," you say beaming. You're still high on the victory. Maria leans over in your direction.

"Great," Joel smiles at you. "Sarah's gonna be -"

"What are you two whispering about?" Maria interrupts with glassy eyes and a crooked smile. She's tipsy and trying to hold in a giggle. "Whisper whisper."

"Babysitting and we're not whispering you fool," you reply, amused at her drunkenness. You dart a look back over at Joel to see that he's holding back a laugh.

"Ooooh," Maria looks over at Tommy. "She's gonna babysit for Joel!"

"I knew it!" Tommy replies equally drunk. "When?"

"Oh yeah, when?" You turn your attention back to Joel.

"Saturday?"

"Sure -" you answer without thinking. But Maria has been listening and moves a hand by your face, waving emphatically.

"Nah, can't be Saturday," she informs Joel with glazed eyes. "She has a date that night with James."

"The co-worker?" Tommy slurs behind her.

"Yeah and she hasn't dated anyone since Paul so she's gotta go and have proper sex with him."

"Maria!" You say with a horrified look. You don't need Joel and Tommy Miller of all people knowing the details of your pitiful sex life.

Maria throws a dramatic hand over her mouth and a smirking Tommy points at her as if she's been caught doing something terrible. "I'm sorry!"

Joel has pulled himself from the booth and is glancing down at you as he pulls on his jacket. You give a shake of your head as if to say "what're we gonna do with these two knuckleheads?' He glances over at his brother leaning a sleepy head on an equally sleepy Maria's shoulder.

"Guess we're the DD's tonight," you sigh as you pull yourself out of the booth. "Yet another reason to stay irresponsible."

He gives a smile that doesn't touch his eyes in return at the joke. You watch his attention dart back to the waitresses' phone number sitting there on the table, looking indecisive. He clears his throat awkwardly before quickly snatching it up and shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans.

"C'mon Tommy," Joel says pulling his brother to a stand with a grunt. You do the same with Maria.

You watch as the Millers make their way out the door of the pub, wondering how you just spent an entire evening with Joel Miller and didn't hate it.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #Last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #Pedro Pascal #Pedro #Pedro Pascal Joel #pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #romance #sweet!Joel

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jungkookschin · 1 year

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to restrain is to love (to err is to love part 2)

synopsis: yea, it was totally your fault for pouncing on your ex husband and shoving your tongue down his throat at your kids' super mario birthday party. (totally romantic!) but after establishing boundaries? despite feeling nauseous, jungkook has to show great deal of self restraint when he finds out that his ex wife is going on a date. word count: 13k

pairing: dilf!jk /ex husband!jk / ceo!jk x afab reader

warnings: mentions of divorce, death, and cheating

to err is to love masterlist

"So, you want me to pretend like it didn't happen?"

Your ex-husband finally arrives home- his disheveled nature indicative of an exhausting day at work probably filled with tedious meetings and unexciting paperwork. He looks like he got the soul sucked right out of his body. His tie is loose around his neck, his hair is swept back sloppily, dark circles prominent, and there's a very obvious annoyed grimace hazed on his handsome face.

It’s not like you enjoy contributing to his stress, but right now you have to draw the red line and establish boundaries. You hate the way your heart flutters at his mere presence- even when stressed out of his mind. You rip your eyes away from him so the notion departs from your mind; acknowledging your thoughts means accepting- or even embracing your feelings for him, and that’s just something you can’t do.

After practically pouncing on him and salaciously shoving your tongue into his mouth after your children's Super Mario birthday party, you abruptly jolted from your sleep with regret plaguing your system. Instinctively your fingers come up to alleviate the aching pain in your temples whilst you recall how sinful it felt to have his lips against yours. The butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach irk you, and you despise yourself for craving him like you are right now.

Even when he’s blinking at you incredulously like you’ve cut him deeply- you can’t help but be soft for him.

“Yes,” you enunciate sternly; the dramatic roll of your eyes effectively masks how you truly feel, and it makes his heart ache painfully. “It was entirely inappropriate, and I apologize for that- let’s just pretend it never happened.” You mumble pointedly before redirecting your focus back to the soapy bubbly plastic Hello-Kitty dishes piled in the sink.

You brace yourself for a response as hostile as the words you just spewed out.

Perhaps he perceived the way your body visibly tense because instead of a sarcastic response, he acts opposite of what you’re expected. You hear the soft thud of his briefcase echoing through the room and as a gentle sigh falls from his lips.

He makes calm strides toward you, placing a hand on top of yours; the soapy bubbles on your hands rub onto his- it even gets on the cuffs of his shirt, but it goes unnoticed by him. He just wants to help out. His other hand takes hold of the sponge as his body softly nudges you to the side. He begins to maneuver the sponge against the dishes, not gracing you with a single word.

Heart aching in your chest, you let out a concerned sigh. "Jungkook, you don't have to do that, it's alright-"

"I'm sorry for coming home late tonight,” His soft words are spoken in a hushed tone, as if he’s trying to bring you down from how panicked and aggressive you were previously behaving. "Thank you for making the kids dinner and cleaning up."

"It's my job to do that-"

"I know. But you work so hard. I just want to let you know how grateful I am." His words encapsulate the tenderness that has been stagnantly stinging his heart- and it sends an explosion of emotions to your stomach. He’s got this hold on you, and you find it unfathomable that he can reillumine the dull flame idly sitting in your heart.

"Are you mad at me?" you squeak out, fingers brushing a stray strand behind your ear. He releases a soft chuckle, putting the last dish in the drying rack, turning and leaning back against the kitchen counter. He shakes his head to sweep the hair out of his face.

“Not mad, just a little sad,” the casual shrug of his shoulders enkindles a bubble of confusion in your heart.

Your mouth dries up. You haven’t a clue of how to respond-especially when the situation isn’t combative in the slightest. You suppose that you adapted entirely to toxicity and hostility that you’ve become emotionally dysfunctional. You hesitate, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I’m sorry,” is all you’re able to muster up.

He smiles bitterly to himself, his sharp jawline flexing as he looks away from you and at the ceiling. For a split second, you detect a hint of pain on his face, but he masks that by playfully pinching your cheek before swinging his hand back down- further adding to your confusion. “Don’t be sorry- you can’t change how you feel. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Oh.

The response he gave you was exactly what your brain was looking for, but for some reason your heart is left completely dissatisfied.

He suddenly begins undoing the buttons on his shirt, letting his chest finally breathe after being trapped in the confines of a tight suit all day. This wasn’t unusual for him to do. Jungkook often paraded around the house shirtless. After all, this is his home, and he is entitled to comfort and privacy. Besides, it’s not like you’ve never seen it before.

Biting your lip, you swat his hands away and begin undoing the buttons for him. Though the action intrinsically seems questionable, you’ve basically been his little wifey when the two of you decided to cohabitate again (for the children). You wash his clothes, make him breakfast, tie his tie for him- the more you think about it the more dysfunctional this relationship is. No words were needed- this isn’t intended to be sexual or seductive in the slightest- your love language has always been acts of service and this is how you’ll express your appreciation.

He raises his brows at you. His eyes haze over you like he’s checking you out, but he’s really scrutinizing you and peering right past your facade. And perhaps he’s simultaneously checking you out. He can’t help himself- your smaller frame is adorned in one of his white oversized tees, making you look so soft and wifey. At the same time, he finds it somewhat ridiculous that you’re telling him you don’t want him while you have his damn shirt over your body.

Once you get to the bottom of the shirt, you pout slightly and look up at him. Your eyes are met with dark eyes that peer into your very soul. Black eyes scan over you, pupils are dilated completely, questioning authenticity of your rejection towards him.

At the same time, he gazes at you with so much desire that it hurts.

“Please tell me how you really feel,” he whispers.

You break eye contact, snapping the strings of attraction that were pulling you together. “Just don’t want to ruin everything again.” you quietly murmur

He brings his calloused palms to rub his face. He already knows. He sees right through you. He’s known you so long he’s confident he’s familiarized himself with everything about you- knows how your mind processes information, knows the meaning behind all your gestures.

What haunts him the most is that he knows he fucked up his own marriage. As the man of the family, he was supposed to hold everything down, and it’s been eating him up that he placed that burden on you. “I know,” he responds, “It’s my fault- I know I fucked everything up beyond repair. I don’t blame you for feeling that way. The divorce was really hard.”

It’s the first time he’s ever explicitly said the d word. He places his arms behind his head, his biceps bulging through his shirt, and you rip your eyes away. This is not the time to be thirsting over him.

“I wasn’t the best either- so don’t say that. The divorce was hard for you too so let’s not think about that,” you mumble, staring at the photo of your children stuck onto the fridge with a “#1 MOM” magnet. The cute photo of the twins holding up peace signs stabilizes you. They are what keeps you going.

He sighs. “But I know you gave it your all to save us- and I didn’t. I know that if I put in more effort, we would have made it. I was entitled and arrogant,” he bites his lip like he’s trying to find the right words, “Please let make it up to you.”

His analysis of the situation is somewhat accurate. Though the rockiest part of your marriage was mostly because of carelessness and hostility from both sides- Jungkook was the one who ultimately expelled you from his heart while you desperately towards clung onto hope.

“There’s nothing to be made up- we can’t do this again. Our kids would be heartbroken if mommy and daddy got back together…. just to break up again,” you send him a faux smile with the intention of comforting him, as if your fucking divorce didn’t absolutely crush you. Jungkook’s resolve begins to crack at your mannerisms. He sees right through you, knows when you’re faking shit.

“Is that how you really feel?”

A deafening silence washes over the situation. You won’t grace him with a response. No one would ever be able to pry the words out of you.

He speaks up. “I respect that Y/N, but if you ever change your mind, I’ll always be here.”

Your brows furrow deeply at this words, and Jungkook winces at the haze of mortification that appears on your pretty face. What did he mean by that? Is he implying that he’s going to stay single forever if you don’t want to be with him? That it’s you or nothing? What an impulsive and ridiculous statement. As much as you care for him, he can’t just be saying shit like that to you

You purse your lips. “I have a date next weekend-”

“What?” The harshness and rapidity of his response doesn’t faze you. During college he was especially possessive over you, his possessive nature never fading even after the divorce. You were still the mother of his children so the sense of protection he felt for you was practically implanted into his system.

“I have a date next weekend, so don’t say stuff like that. Don’t give up on love because we didn’t work out. We didn’t work out for a reason- we can both be better for who we were truly meant for,” you rub his bicep diplomatically, your lips curling up into a polite smile.

Brushing your hand away, he responds with a look that teeters on the brink of mortification and disgust. “Who’s taking you on a date?” He’s doing that thing where he presses his tongue against his cheek- like you’ve just horribly offended him, and you simply frown.

“Don’t worry about that- if it goes well then I’ll tell you more, but it’s just a first date,” Growing slightly irritated, you tut because he’s really doing too much at this point. “I’m only telling you because I don’t want you to give up meeting other people.”

After tensing up he closes his eyes and sighs steadily, expelling the negative energy that accumulated in his chest. “Okay fine- go on a date. Not my business anyways,” he mumbles lowly, and this pit of guilt expatiates in your chest.

Before he walks off, your hand automatically latches onto his wrist. “Hey, can we talk about this? I hate it when we fight and I don’t want to upset you,” you plead, gnawing on your bottom lip in concern.

Jungkook softens, regaining rationality before his shoulders relax. “There’s nothing to talk about. It’s not your fault. You’re allowed to move on if you want to,” he reasons, attempting to give you a smile.

Suddenly, the realization washes over you that Jeon Jungkook looks utterly exanimated. He’s paler than usual and he just looks so spiritless and dull. It saddens you deeply and your purse your lips. You hope it’s from work and not because of you. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s okay Y/N. Not your fault. We separated years ago- don’t worry about it,”

Desisting, your lips utter no response.

“Well Y/N, ‘m getting tired so gonna go to bed.” His voice stiffly trails off before he speaks again. “Can I get a hug?”

You don’t even realize how pouty your lips become when you lean into his embrace, hugging him from the side.

Gosh. Is this what we’ve come to?

A side hug?

You and this man used to be madly in love, unable to keep your hands off of each other- so passionate and so intense. It’s genuinely crazy that's left.

A side hug.

–

When you stepped into work that morning, asking a man on a date was the last thing on your list. In fact, the notion never existed because you making the first move? Disgusting. Totally defeminizing.

"Ew, is this what people like?" Your coworker Soyeon peeks over your shoulder, scrutinizing the monitor. She grimaces while she makes an ugh sound with her lips, eliciting a lighthearted giggle from you.

You currently work for a luxury cosmetics brand called Belle Meraviglie, as lead of the analytics team at the Korea headquarters. Basically, you’re in charge of data mining, transforming survey results into applicable suggestions for product development. There’s a lot of math and statistics involved, which occasionally makes you question why you’re in this field because you can’t do math for shit.

Though your job sounds tedious, the average workday is filled with jovial playfulness thanks to your coworkers.

Right now, you're inspecting the results of a recent survey about optimal lip shades for each season. Surprisingly, this ugly ass peach shade popped up as the number one result for fall, which you (and Soyeon) are not fucking with. With one tap of the keyboard, the results are modified into a line graph, and you swivel your office chair around 180 degrees, facing Soyeon.

"Hey, if it brings us in more money then it's good to me," you joke, eliciting a playful eye roll from your friend.

“Of course, it’s all about the money for you…”

A lightbulb seemingly appears on top of her head, and she really starts to regurgitate her thoughts. "I really want a chocolate croissant right now," she expresses aloud, very unsubtly you may add, so you quickly become suspicious, narrowing your eyes at her. Giving you her classic puppy dog eyes, you give her a knowing look before relenting.

"Fine."

Perks of working for a luxury brand is that there's a Starbucks cafe on the second floor of the office. You have to admit that the chocolate croissants are to die for, hence why you're willing to walk all the way to the elevator and to the cafe to buy Soyeon one.

Unsurprisingly, the line at the cafe is pretty long, wrapping around the corner of the interior of the building. Chocolate croissants are delicious, and you love the way the buttery dough melts in your mouth, so you're more than willing to wait it out. Your arms are linked with Soyeon's so you won't be separated amongst the crowd of buzzing employees rushing to get their coffee or snacks.

Looking around, you really conceptualize the diversity of your workplace. People of all ages and colors flock around the lobby; you're noticing that there are a lot more young people around, probably college interns.

Amongst your scrutiny of the people walking in and out, you gracelessly walk straight into a brick wall of a man, even despite Soyeon's efforts of driving you away from bumping into people.

The man turns around and you begin hastily apologizing. Soyeon follows your lead. "I'm sorry!" you urgently express, but when you straighten your body, you realize that the brick wall is a familiar face.

"Y/N?"

"Seokjin?" you mimic his confused tone, the two of you blink at each other before you both burst out into laughter at your clumsy antics.

You give him a warm one-armed embrace, delicately brushing Soyeon off to the side. (uncannily similar to when you used to force your friends to follow your tracks, so you’d muster up the courage to talk to your middle school crush)

But in reality, this situation couldn’t be any more different.

Seokjin is actually head of the marketing department- so a manager like you. During monthly meetings, you go out of your way to ensure the seat beside you is vacant for Seokjin. Coughing excessively into your arm to ward off everyone else, but then when Seokjin walks in, you’re magically healed!

When you were abysmally stumbling through the divorce with your ex-husband, Seokjin was a saving grace. Being a divorced father of two kids himself, he empathized with you whole heartedly, heroically taking responsibility for your work while you took the time to mentally recuperate.

"How have you been?" he exclaims, beaming at you. Seokjin is always bubbly and radiant at work, something you found comfort in whenever you interacted with him.

"I've been really good! We actually got the report back on the survey for the new lip product..." you trail off, "The shade the stakeholders chose is really ugly," you whisper, making Seokjin lightheartedly chuckle.

"Well," he begins. "If it brings us money then that's all that matters!"

You dramatically gasp before playfully smacking him on the chest. "That's what I said too!" You join him in his contagious laughter; it's just so easy to get along with him.

After the laughter dies down, Seokjin wipes a fake tear from his eye. "So, how're the twins?" he inquires, and you beam at him.

"They're awesome. How are your boys?"

Seokjin has two boys, who are a lot older than your kids. His oldest Seokmin is 14 and his youngest Seokjoon should be 12 or 13 by now. Seokjin shoots you a comically petrified look before shaking his head and exhaling deeply.

"Seokmin is in high school," he dramatically enunciates, as if it's the scariest thing in the world. It really is, though. You're horror stricken but thrilled for your kids to get to that stage, but you'll handle it when the time comes. "He actually brought home a girl the other day- it scared the shit out of me and his brother," he jokes, making you smile at his silliness.

"Awe, don't say that," you coo, "So was she his girlfriend?" you inquire, to which Seokjin shakes his head.

"They're in the 'talking' stage, so not dating but they kind of are," Seokjin explains, before feigning faux shock to dramaticize the situation. "What the hell does that even mean? I told him that if he likes her he should just ask her out, but he said that no one does that and it'd make him look weird," he elaborates while he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, which just makes you laugh.

"I've never heard of that before. Maybe we're getting too old," you kiss your teeth, making a yikes sound.

Seokjin shakes his head. "Us? Old? Never that. My boys still can't beat me in a sparring match, so I'd say I'm young as ever."

This catches your attention, and you perk up a bit. "I forgot that your kids do Taekwondo!" you exclaim. "Did Seokjoong finally get his blackbelt?"

"He actually did last month! Hey- the offer still stands. If little Haru wants to start Taekwondo, I can get my boys to take him to class. He'll be in good hands," Seokjin suggests with a casual shrug.

You get soft at the thought of Haru in a Taekwondo uniform, kicking boards and doing flips, so you start to pout. "Thank you, Seokjin. I'll talk to Haru's father about it."

Seokjin purses his lips and nods. He hesitates momentarily, gnawing on his lip, appearing as if he is contemplating whether or not he should verbalize his thoughts. He's always been careful not to overstep boundaries. "If you ever want to talk about anything, I've been in your place and I get it. You can always text or call," he offers.

You blissfully sigh, nodding your head while you give him a knowing smile. "Thank you Seokjin, I might just have to take you up on your offer," your voice sounding shriveled and exhausted.

"Well, I have to get back to work now. I'll see you guys later," he looks around and finally notices Soyeon, shooting his hand out while he introduces himself. "Seokjin, by the way."

She shakes his hand weakly, being well aware and slightly intimidated by her superior. "Soyeon. It's nice to meet you," she smiles at him and he returns the smile before making his way back to his office.

You and Soyeon waddle back into the office and settle down at your desks, chocolate croissants in both of your hands. Soyeon shoots you a conspicuous look. "That was... odd," she states, and the expression you give her can only be described as quizzical.

"What was?" you ask, taking a bite out of your croissant. "The barista?"

"No no, your interaction with Seokjin," she insists, rolling her office chair over to yours so that no eavesdroppers would catch heed to the conversation.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you guys fucking?!” she whisper shouts, her facial expressions screaming urgency and incrimination. She’s staring at you as if she just caught you in the act, but you respond with a mortifying glare.

You clasp your palm over her mouth. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

You feel the sensation of her tongue licking your hand, and you jerk your hand away.

“I have never seen you act like that before,” she points out while she gives you a snobby look, eyeing you up and down.

You roll your eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you bark back, particularly unamused.

“Like a high schooler talking to their crush?!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss, petrified that your interaction with him could be perceived that way.

“Bitch, don’t try me! You were fucking giggling; I have never seen you do that,” she crosses her arms at you and gives you another accusatory look.

“Oh wow now I can’t smile? Or be happy?” you muse, forcing Soyeon to deepen her scowl while she looks at you particularly unimpressed.

“Well, there is literally vacant dick for you right in front of you, but if you want to ignore it then there’s nothing I can do about it," she continues.

One of your palms comes up to smack your own face. “Someone’s gonna report us to HR,” you grumble, making Soyeon bite back laughter.

“Are you just gonna stay single for the rest of your life?” she then asserts, and the question has you melting into a puddle of realization. The only person you’ve seriously dated is- well, your ex-husband. Since you had your kids so young you’ve centered your entire life around your kids and work, the thought of another man has never even crossed your man.

After the divorce you came to peace with the idea that love just wasn’t for you, but you suppose that doesn't have to necessarily be the case, so you begin to welcome some of Soyeon's crazy ideas.

“I don’t know,” you meekly respond, “Right now I’m solely focused on my kids, so I haven’t thought about it.”

“Well their father has women constantly flocking around him, so you have every right to as well,” she insists.

“Okay but it’s not like he reciprocates their feelings-”

Soyeon raises a brow at you and you acquiesce. “Yea,” you agree, shrugging. "But it's not going to be Seokjin- he doesn't like me like that."

"Dude. He didn't even notice I was there until he was walking away," Soyeon deadpans at you and you laugh, deliberately not saying anything because you don't want to admit that she has a point.

"Plus," she muses, "I can make the case that Seokjin is the hottest guy in this entire building," she chimes in a sing song voice.

You respond with a mirthless look. She knows damn well that there is no competition about 'hottest guy in the building' because all the men here are either super old, or college interns.

"There isn't that much competition."

"So you agree?" she teases, and her inquiry sucks you in to a whirlpool of quandary.

Out of all the men at work, Seokjin is the most attractive here- now that you think about it, he is pretty cute. Probably on the more attractive side of all the men you've seen in your life. Maybe you should try to ignite a flame between you and Seokjin. Thanks to the sensation of adrenaline rushing through your veins, you become quite impulsive and bold.

"Shall I try to seduce him?"

"Yes!" Soyeon squeals. "Please! I'm tired of seeing you depressed all the time. Please get back into the game," she pleads.

You suppose that Soyeon must possess some supernatural hypnotic ability, because you find yourself doing something atypical to your normal behavior.

Knocking on the door of Seokjin’s private office, you take a measly step once you hear “Come in!” bounce on the walls.

“Y/N!” he greets happily, directing his attention from his giant computer monitor to a cumbersome you, fidgeting awkwardly in place. “What’s up? Do you have the report for the monthly meeting?” he asks, gracing you with his typical Seokjin smile.

“Oh- um- sorry, I actually don’t,” you say, clenching your teeth from the anxiety rushing through your veins. “I actually came to ask you- well I actually wanted to ask-“

Seokjin pays no heed to your stuttering or the way you wriggle around in his office, just clasps his palms together while he gazes at you fondly.

“Do you maybe want to get dinner with me? Next weekend?”

His face immediately falls and you wince, instantaneously regretting even stepping inside his office. On Seokjin’s end, his expression actually reflects pleasant surprise, but you don’t know that.

A moment passes where the two of you blink at each other before his hands grasp a stack of papers, straightening the stack against the table.

He clears his throat.

“Like a date?”

Your cheeks blush crimson and you shyly avert your eyes downward, tucking a stray piece of strand behind your ear. At this point, there’s no going back now. Your impulsivity has gotten the best of you. You look up, gnawing on the plump of your bottom lip. “Yea,” you release. “Like a date.”

The shy smile that spreads on Seokjin’s face mirrors the goofy smile on yours. Anyone viewing this situation from the third person would assume you've never spoken to a man before; your cherry red cheeks indicative as much.

His eyes finally meet yours, and you can’t help but think that he looks cool. Seokjin tends to emanate approachability. He’s the cool boss- the guy every employee can confide in.

Not now though. You’ve penetrated a barrier no one else in the office has and unlocked the cool and suave Seokjin.

His large hand combs through his hair, revealing a peek of his forehead. He looks so handsome and quite honestly it’s making you giddy. “Yea Y/N, I would love to.”

“Oh- um- that’s great!” you say before you shrivel up in embarrassment. “Just text me and we can arrange a time,” you squeak out before shyly waving and taking a step back towards the door. He raises his eyebrows amusedly before waving back at you, and you return the wave that he returned to your wave, shutting the door ever so slightly.

“Ah shit. She’s cute.”

You wake from bed with a splitting headache. The preceding day just happened to me the most eventful day for your love life since your wedding. Last night, your talk with Jungkook had all sorts of emotions and colors bursting and bubbling in your chest. However, no matter how drawn you are to him, no matter how weird you feel about him, it’s over, and you had to firmly establish those boundaries.

Any lingering resentment toward Jungkook proceeding the divorce had long vanished- for the sake of your children and for the sake of your inner peace. Honestly, you were fed up with how salty and miserable you always were. You realized it was unproductive was to dwell on the aches and failures of your marriage; you found it in your heart to genuinely forgive him just like how he forgave you.

After that, your co-parenting relationship flourished, but now it seems like everything is coming full circle again. He explicitly told you that he wants you.

But you can’t let it happen. It didn’t work out before, and it won’t work out if you try again.

Life has blessed you with another capable, intelligent, and handsome man, and you can’t let yourself blow it because of your complicated feelings for your ex-husband. You like Seokjin. Seokjin is handsome, you click with him, and he makes you feel safe and comfortable.

Your time spent with Seokjin is reminiscential of a dulcet hot spring. You find comfort in the way your skin absorbs his warm steam emanating from the water. You find comfort in the way he makes you feel normal and validated, the way he accepts you as yourself. Your relationship that had been a cordial friendship for so long has the potential to blossom into so much more.

Jungkook on the other hand, is a tsunami whose waves violently crash down on the little control you have over your rationality. When you were a teenager, he washed into your otherwise peaceful world and aroused this sense of infatuation in your being, evoking your reckless behavior.

Holding his hand in a skintight bikini while he coaxed you into sneaking into one of his father’s hotel pools. Standing arms open outside your house waiting to catch you while you jumped from your window- my goodness you even had twins with this man!

Had you been a little younger, you would have chosen the exhilaration of infatuation over the sensibility of comfort. Now that you are a mother, you have the lives of two other people to consider. You ought to prioritize the viability of any potential relationship over anything else.

With the plethora of thoughts banging against the interior of your brain, you fail to notice your son crawling into the bed.

“Hi mom,” It’s like the he popped out of nowhere, kneeling on the comforter in front of you.

“Oh, hi baby,” you respond, pulling him into your arms and into your lap.

“Dad said you’re going on a date, is that true?” he innocently inquires, large doe eyes blinking at you dumbfoundedly.

You kiss your teeth. No way he told your kids that. “He told you?”

“He said that you’re going on a date next weekend, so Heeseung and Jake might have to come babysit,“ your son innocently explains, casually playing with the strands of your hair.

You soften impossibly when he places the strand of hair above his lip, puckering his lips to use it as a fake mustache. You giggle and press a soft kiss to his forehead. He quickly wipes the saliva off with the back off his hand with the fiercest glare he can conjure.

You simply giggle in response. “Are you mad at mommy for going on a date?”

Haru shrugs. “Not really, but sometimes I wish you and dad were still together,” The casualness of his response halts the gears in your heart, and your heart drops. Sometimes you feel like you’ve failed as a mother for not being able to keep your family completely intact. Coparenting is sufficient, but you’ve always had insecurities about not giving them the full family experience.

Haru fails to notice and continues talking. “But I’m still happy you and dad are best friends. Who are you going on a date with anyway?”

You’re glad it doesn’t seem to bother him and you boop his nose with your pointer finger. “Do you remember Seokmin? The older boy who taught you how to break a board at mommy’s work picnic?”

His eyes instantly sparkle at that, and he eagerly nods his head like a golden retriever pup.

“Well, mommy asked his dad out on a date.”

“So does that mean if it goes well I can play with Seokmin more?” His fixation on Seokjin’s son leads you to realize that he probably doesn’t even care about your romantic life- Roblox and hanging out with older cool kids are all he needs to make his little heart happy.

“If your dad’s okay with that, then of course you can.”

On cue, Jungkook busts into the room, daughter on his hip and granola bar in the other hand. Your daughter’s such a little princess, always loving being carried in her father’s arms even though she’s been walking for years.

Wearing an oversized black tee and gray sweat shorts, Jungkook raises a brow at you. “Oh, so you’re making the first move now?”

You ignore him, grabbing your son’s chubby cheeks before peppering sloppy and dramatic mwahs all over his face. Jungkook’s eyes subtly role at your unbecoming habit of using your kids as a mechanism of brushing him off.

“Haru, Hina, you can have iPad time for thirty minutes- mommy and daddy need to talk,” Jungkook voices sternly, and you shoot him a dumbfounded look, locking your arms around your son.

“Why? I want my babies here,” you complain, and Jungkook sends you a look so sinisterly serious that you zip your lips.

Once the kids scatter from the room, he settles on top of your comforter. He collects his thoughts before he speaks. “So?” he sends you an accusatory look and you mime his expression.

“So?”

“Since when did you start making the first move?”

“Oh my fucking- that’s what you wanted to ask me?”

He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at you. “Why are you being so secretive?”

You roll your eyes. He’s acting like a child right now. You push off the comforters to walk away until his hand latches onto your wrist. “Sit down,” he breathes out lowly and you frustratedly yank your arm away from him, but acquiesce nonetheless.

“So who’s the guy? I think I deserve to know if he’s met my kids,” Jungkook inquires a bit bitterly and you purse your lips into a thin line to express your distaste.

You relent because the man has a point. You can’t bring your kids around your work colleagues and not supply the details when requested. “Just someone from work, the kids met him at a work picnic a long time ago and Haru really liked his son.”

He projects his next question at you with lightning speed. “How old’s his kid?”

“Probably like 14 or 15 right now, and he has another that’s like 12-”

“The fuck? Are you looking for a sugar daddy?”

Your ears must have deceived you because you can’t comprehend the audacity of this man, and you can’t help but gawk at his shamelessness.

“Is he rich or something? I just have no fucking clue why you would ask some old dude out on a date. You know I’ll buy you whatever you want-”

Now you’re irritated. Scoffing, you scoot away to distance yourself from him because you can’t stand being in his presence.

“I know you’re not talking. He was around the same age we were when we had the twins,” you reason. As logically as that statement was, it has an inverse effect, fanning the flames of his irrationality.

“So this guy’s just looking to hookup,” he seethes, leaving you dumbfounded because Jungkook honestly had no right to be spewing this bullshit. What did he mean by that? Is that what Jungkook was looking to do? Hook up? The thought of him with another woman leaves you sick.

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief at his hypocrisy. There was no reasoning with him at this point. You know how he gets when he’s all riled up; the best thing to do is to disengage. “You don’t know how insulting you’re being,” you release shakily.

“And you don’t know how bad you’re hurting me,” he bites back.

Saying nothing, you get up and walk steadily towards the door, closing it ever so gently.

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

When you return home from work, you spot Haru dozing off on the couch, head resting on the arm of the sofa, already tucked under his Paw Patrol blanket. Hina’s resting her head on her father’s abdomen, her soft snoring mirroring her twin brother’s. Jungkook’s plopped down on the sofa, eyebrows furrowed vexedly while he glares at Sanrio Cartoon playing on the screen. What did Hello Kitty ever do to him? But as angry as he may be, he’s stroking his daughter’s hair with the utmost gentleness.

The sound of your footsteps makes Jungkook whip his head in your direction. He gently lifts his daughter up from his body and lays her on the couch, draping another vacant blanket over her small body.

With soft steps, he mouths the words “We need to talk” while pointing up at the second story. Sighing, you relent and follow his lead up the stairs and into his bedroom.

The door closes softly, and he faces you. You lock gazes, refusing to look away so he knows that you won’t be tolerating any bullshit this time. After a brief moment of just staring at each other, he exhales sharply. “I’m sorry.”

You owlishly blink at him and he continues. “I acted like an asshole, and I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. After you walked out of the room, I felt so disappointed with myself- like I was still the same guy I was when we got divorced- I’m just so sorry and you didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that,” his words are flowing out and when he finishes, he nervously anticipates your response.

Emotions swelling in your chest. You nearly look pained and Jungkook is scared that he may have hurt you even more. Instead, you tip toe to wrap your arms around his neck. Jungkook melts into your embrace immediately, arms around your waist while he holds you close to his body.

“I accept your apology,” you whisper into his neck, releasing your embrace. “I was thinking about it today, and I was kinda-sorta thinking that you might have thought that I was trying to replace you or something, so I was going to apologize first,” you explain hesitantly, and Jungkook’s lips churn into a slight smile.

“I didn’t think that,” his hands are still on your waist and he’s peering lovingly at you. “You wouldn’t do that to me, but it did make me feel a little... threatened,” he explains.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that. You’ll always be the father of my kids and my best friend,” you reply with a smile, and he releases a lighthearted laugh.

“But really, I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I’m sorry for that… and I-I just wanted to let you know that I’ve never thought about hooking up with anybody. That’s not what I meant when I said what I said” he reasons nervously.

You shrug. “It’s not like it matters anyways. You’re free to do what you want. Just keep your kids in mind if you decide to be... Impetuous.”

Your reaction disappoints Jungkook, his shoulders slumping and all he can do is let out a forlorn sigh. “You really like this guy?” He suddenly asks, his tattooed hand brushing defeatedly through his hair.

The question is unexpected, and it somewhat surprises you. You waver, tapping your pointer on your chin while you conjure an appropriate response. “I don’t know. That’s why we’re going on a date.”

He kisses his teeth. “Is he a good guy?”

You hum and step back, plopping on the bed. “Yea,” you bite your lips. “He is,” you conclude while nodding your head.

“He treats you nicely?” Jungkook adds, carefully speculating your gesticulations.

You smile to yourself. Jungkook furrows his eyebrows at that. “He always takes care of me at work. He’s really been a great help. I mean that.”

Jungkook scrutinizes you intensely, and when he perceives the genuineness behind your words he nods bitterly. “Okay,” he sighs. “If you think he can make you happy then I’m happy too,” he offers you a faux smile, and you avert your eyes so you aren’t confronted with the sad twinkle in his pupils.

You know for a fact Haru gets his athleticism from his father, because you don’ t have a single athletic bone in your body. Jungkook has always been eager to enroll his kids into sports. When they were three he suggested putting them into swim classes, but the idea was actually vetoed by his mother, who insisted that three was way too early.

Personally, you were indifferent- it’s not like sports were going to make or break your kids’ future. Of course, being active would be beneficial, but they also didn’t have to start that early. Anyways, you can imagine Jungkook’s enthusiasm when his son asked him if he could start playing soccer.

Now, going to Haru’s Saturday soccer games are encrypted in your family’s weekend routine.

Saturday morning routines have become familiar. You dress Hina up in one of her prettiest summer dresses before drowning her in sunscreen. One of Jungkook’s friends helps Haru get ready while Jungkook loads the lawn chairs and ice coolers into the Mercedes. Sometimes it’s Taehyung or Jimin. When it’s Namjoon, his wife and daughter tag along- the presence of his cute little girl always being a sweet treat. However, today it’s just the four of you.

Lathering your daughter in sunscreen, you place her mini sunglasses on her face while Jungkook gazes at his girls with awe.

“Really girls? We’re only going to be outside for like two hours, do you really need to do all that?” Jungkook coos, and you roll your eyes.

“Tell your father he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Daddy, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hina sasses her father, and Jungkook scoffs before scooping his daughter up and tossing her up into the air. He catches her and throws her up again, her squeals and giggles filling the morning air.

Haru steps out of the door, clad in his soccer uniform, cleats laced up, and socks rolled properly. Putting Hina down, he approaches his son.

“You ready to score a goal today?” Jungkook asks his son, kneeling down to his height.

Haru jumps in excitement. “Duh! And you promise you’ll buy me and Hina ice cream if I score a goal?” Haru questions, and his dad immediately agrees.

“Of course. I’ll get the two of you whatever you want, doesn’t have to be ice cream.”

Haru shrugs. Suddenly Jungkook’s awards don’t seem as appealing to him. “You can just ask Squidy for whatever she wants- I don’t really care.”

Your son’s gotten to that age where he loves acting tough and chivalrous, taking care of his twin sister and being the little man of the family. He’s even adopted the name Squidy for Hina, which makes you and Jungkook eye each other humorously at the cute nickname.

“Did you hear that Squidy? You have to cheer for me so dad can get us something, okay?”

Your son’s valiant effort of being sweet fails, because Hina sasses her brother like she does with her dad. “Whatever, if I see cute boys then I’m going to cheer for them-”

“Whoa whoa,” Jungkook intervenes, immediately deciding that conversation is over. He scoops his daughter up and places her in her car seat before shutting the door. He looks at you with urgency in his eyes and you laugh.

“She’s boy crazy just like her mom, huh?” Jungkook teases, and you roll your eyes before slapping his bicep.

Upon arriving at the field, you absorb the Saturday morning atmosphere. The crisp blue sky, the nostalgic scent of grass that fills your nose, your children prancing around the parking lot, and your ex-husband who carries the ice cooler on his shoulder as if it’s nothing. Your family walks ahead of you, but you stay in place simply observing them.

A few seconds later, Jungkook whips his head around, searching for you when he doesn’t sense your presence. Feet planted into the cement, he looks at you with concern. “What are you doing? We don’t want to get separated,” he calls out.

Suddenly, it strikes you that you hold an irreplaceable place in this family. You created your two babies; you gave them life. Two beautiful kids, a handsome father, and then there was just you. Sometimes you felt so average you had no clue what you did to deserve this. You can’t believe this is your reality and your heart soars.

You jog up and catch up to him, slowing down when you’re secure by his side. He laughs, admiring how cute you are. “So ditzy, Y/N.”

You shrug. “Was just thinking that I’m lucky to have you guys.”

Jungkook’s eyes gaze at you, the softest expression on his face. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t know- jus guess I was feeling a little overwhelmed seeing you guys all cute and domestic like this. I’m really happy I have you as my family,” you smile at him, your fingers wandering towards his to give his palm a gentle squeeze.

Jungkook melts at the action, gingerly bringing your knuckles to his lips to place a delicate kiss on the top of your hand. “I’m happy I have you as my family too.”

Family. The word settles heavily in his system.

Along with his two kids, you were one of his most precious treasures. He cherishes you deeply, would drop everything in hand if you’d simply ask. If family was all he could do, then just looking at you like this would suffice. He loves you, is okay with loving you only as the mother of his children if he couldn’t love you as his wife.

Loves you so he wants you to be happy; needs to let you spread your wings and find your own happiness. Exhaling a shaky breath, he drops your hand and places his vacant arm around your shoulder. “Let’s go, yea?”

On the sideline of the field, you and a few other moms on the team congregate around each other and start making small talk.

All the moms are significantly older than you, but they still welcome you and treat you as one of their own. They invite you to group brunch dates, playdates, and sometimes drop off home-cooked meals at your door. The group chat always shares resources with each other, like old toys or community events at the park.

After laughing at some cheesy joke, you say your goodbyes and walk back to Jungkook and Hina.

When you return, Jungkook smirks a little at you. “That was cute,” he comments.

“What was?” you question innocently

“You’re a cute little soccer mom now,” he grins at you and you laugh.

“Well, I am, I guess.”

“You have a cute little soccer mom group. That’s so fucking cute, Y/N.”

Jungkook sets up the umbrella for you, planting it into the ground while you relax on the lawn chair. Your daughter’s on your lap, and you’re both calmly observing the soccer game, matching sunglasses on as well.

“Do my princesses need anything else?” Jungkook inquires sarcastically. You giggle, pressing your hand to his cheek while your thumb smoothes over the coarse skin of his cheek.

He removes your hand from his cheek and shoots you a playful glare.

“Mommy! Haru’s going to score a goal!” The declaration of your daughter has you and Jungkook whipping your head towards the goal post, and sure enough, Haru is pelting the ball into the goal post.

You and Jungkook immediately shoot up, cheering and celebrating. Jungkook grabs your daughter and throws her into the air before catching her. Out of pure ecstasy, Jungkook grabs you by the waist and squeezes you, holding you up whilst he embraces you tightly.

“Hey! What about me?” You hear Hina’s voice and Jungkook chuckles, putting you down and enveloping his daughter into his arms.

This is what happiness must be.

Having to act like this doesn’t bother him is requiring a great deal of self-restraint.

You stand in front of your bathroom mirror, carefully twirling your hair around the barrel of your curling iron. Your bangs are in a roller that sits on the top of your head, and you’re humming along to the music that echoes from your phone speaker.

Once you’re satisfied with your hair, you move to the makeup. You apply rosy blush on the high points of your cheeks before your shirtless ex-husband enters and leans against the doorway. Hands shoved into the pockets of his gray sweat shorts, he observes your meticulous self care routine.

You see him through the mirror, and you have to stop yourself from taking a second look. Thighs are on display, abs are on display, muscles are on display, him just being there is short circuiting your brain.

“You look good,” he casually inserts, leaning against the door and crossing his arms.

“Oh, um thanks,” you respond, unable to conjure an appropriate response.

He stands there, scrutinizing you through the mirror. His eyes narrow at you every time you bring the makeup to your face, It’s killing him. He’s really trying to be mature to hold things down at home while you’re out, but you look so beautiful without makeup- and he doesn’t get why you’re trying to make yourself prettier and for another man at that.

His lips twitch into a bitter smile.

“He’s a lucky guy, if you’re doing this all for him.”

You don’t say anything but this immense pit of guilt swells in your stomach. You set your brush down and inhale deeply, while Jungkook strolls to your closet and starters going through your dresses hung on the clothing rack.

“Which one are you planning on wearing?”

“Huh?” you swivel around to his direction and shake your head. “I’m wearing a blouse and dress pants; I already laid it out on the bed.”

“You wore a dress on our first date,” he adds.

“That’s when I was young and wanted to seduce men with my sex appeal.”

“Well it worked,” Jungkook licks his lips, recalling the tight red dress you wore on your first date back in college. My goodness were you a sight to see, all dressed up for him- so gorgeous it made him dizzy. You were so shy- could barely look him in the eye, and it spurred Jungkook on with the desire to corrupt you.

“And look where we are now,” you conclude coldly, pulling Jungkook from his little euphoric fantasy. At that, he frowns. You didn’t really have to say that. You did a great job of stripping all and any sense of hope from him.

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort. “Doesn’t have to be like that. I can take you and the kids out instead if you cancel.”

Before you can reply, you both become distracted by the alarming sounds of his two kids screaming at each other. He closes his eyes and releases a sharp exhale, giving you one last look before going down the stairs to take care of his children.

A few minutes later, you join them down the stairs, red blouse and beige dress pants adorned on your figure. Quite frankly, you almost look like you’re going to a work meeting, but just with a tad more style. You pick up some of your kids’ toys and throw it into the basket and join Jungkook at the dining table with your kids.

“Mom, if the date goes well can I play more with Seokmin?” Haru asks.

You direct your attention to Jungkook, who simply sighs. “I’ll have to meet his father first, okay?”

And on cue, the doorbell rings. You shoot up, and Jungkook peers at you like your enthusiasm is thoroughly messing with his brain.

You scurry over to the front door, opening it to see your Prince Charming waiting for you. There stands Seokjin, looking as classy and handsome as ever. You suppose he’s opted for something casual as opposed to his usual suit and tie at work- the black button up and jeans indicative of that. His hair slick back very prince like, his glorious forehead showing. A beautiful bouquet of flowers is in his hand. “Hey Y/N,”

“You didn’t have to bring me flowers,” you pout before accepting the bouquet and tiptoeing to hug him.

He waves the notion away. “I always tell my son to bring flowers on the first date, so I have to live up to my word or he’ll call his dad a hypocrite.”

Haru runs up to him and Seokjin squats to his level before giving your son a high five. “Where’s Seokmin?” Haru asks and you swat the back of his head.

“Haru, say hi to Mr. Seokjin first. That’s rude," you berate.

He blows out an annoyed sigh and juts out his hand. “Hi Mr. Seokjin. Thank you for taking my mommy out on a date. She’s very lonely and single." This kid does a great job at making you roll your eyes.

Seokjin laughs and shakes your kid’s hand. “Seokmin’s at home taking care of his little brother, Haru,” He explains while he views your ex-husband from his peripheral, who is approaching with your daughter on his hip “And I’m not so sure that’s true, she doesn’t seem to be very lonely.”

He stands up and shakes Jungkook’s hands with a firm grasp.

“Nice to meet you. Jungkook.” Jungkook says, his voice distinguished with the husky tone he only uses as a work meetings.

“Seokjin. Nice to meet you too,” Seokjin responds, also with his work voice. Jungkook puts up Hina’s little hand for Seokjin to shake and Seokjin shakes her tiny little hand. “Hi Hina,”

“Hi Mr. Seokjin, please take care of my mommy tonight,” Hina says sweetly, and you melt.

“Of course, Hina. She’s in good hands with me, and he offers your daughter a comforting smile.

You turn quickly and place your flowers into a vacant vase, kneeling down to your kids’ level. Ruffling their hair, you place a kiss on each of their cheeks. “Okay kiddies, mommy’s going to get going now, okay?”

Both of your children give you a hug. “Bye mom!” your kids chime before rushing back to their iPads.

Rising to your usual height, the discomfort of the situation washes over you. You’re becoming extremely uncomfortable, standing in between your ex-husband and your date. Wiping the sweat off your palms onto the front of your pants, you tuck a strand of hair behind your hair. “See you Jungkook. Call me if something happens,” you say after clearing your throat.

He looks at you blankly, with no particular look in his eyes, the ambiguousness of his expression eats at your skin. “Okay. Have fun.”

At this point, Jungkook should have walked away, but he stands firm simply staring at you. You fidget uncomfortably in place before scurrying over to the door and opening it.

Before you can step out, Jungkook places a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder and clears his throat. When Seokjin turns to face him, Jungkook stares blankly at the older man before sticking his hand out.

“Hey, thanks for taking care of my wife at work. Really appreciate it man- ex-wife, I mean.”

Seokjin narrows his eyes at the man at the odd remark. Seokjin’s eyes scan over Jungkook’s frame, detecting his apprehension. Jungkook doesn’t look away from the guy, blankly staring at him until a response is given.

Seokjin grips Jungkook’s hand very firmly. “Of course.”

And though the interaction seems very amicable, you don’t miss the way both of the men’s knuckles nearly turn white.

What was supposed to be a cute and romantic first date turned into you and Seokjin urgently speeding down the freeway.

It started when Seokjin excused himself to check his phone and his face immediately dropped.

“What’s wrong?”

“My son says he’s at a party, and that the party got busted because kids were drinking,” Seokjin explains disjointedly, appearing and sounding very stressed. He brushes a hand through his hair and you can’t help but pout.

“Oh my gosh, where do these high school kids even get alcohol from?” You step closer to him, peering over his shoulder to read the text. One of your hand rubs his biceps comfortingly because sure enough, the text reads

“dad, please don’t kill me but im at a party and the guy that was driving us started drinking and im scared.”

His son Seokmin sends his location, and when you take heed of the zip code, you gasp. “He’s two hours away? How’d he even get there?”

Seokjin releases a dejected groan, jaw clenching at his son’s disobedience. Now he has to go clean up after his son’s shit. Great.

Sighing, he places a hand on his hip. “I’m sorry Y/N, I’m going to have to get him. Do you think we can reschedule for another time?” He looks at you with guilt painted all over his face and you quickly shake your head at the notion.

“Don’t apologize for that, please. Let me go with you and you can take the HOV lane to get their faster,” you suggest, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders.

“You don’t have to do that. Your kids will miss you.”

“They’ll survive without me. You’re always there for me, so please accept my offer.”

Seokjin purses his lips then acquiesce. Nodding, he smiles at you. “Thank you so much. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“This is you making it up to me,” you giggle, “It’ll be fun. I can tell you about all the office drama.”

Seokjin’s a very conscientious driver. His pupils fixate on the road, his foot ever so slightly presses on the brakes so you don’t jerk forward like you do with Soyeon. It doesn’t surprise you- carefully observing traffic laws is very characteristic of Seokjin and contributes to his lovely demeanor.

The car ride is long, but conversations with Seokjin make time hasten.

“What?” Seokjin muses, hand banging on the driver’s wheel. “Jaehyung and Jungmin had an affair?”

You eagerly nod your head. “Yes they did! You can imagine my discomfort when I walked in on them in. In the printing room, at that! I gave them an ultimatum to fess up or I’d tell their partners,” you elaborate.

“Huh,” Seokjin thinks aloud. “I thought it was coincidental that they were getting a divorce at the same time... But that’s a really great thing you did, Y/N. You know my ex-wife cheated on me too.”

Your eyebrows furrow at the confession. “ I’m sorry. Some people can be so horrible.”

“It’s okay,” Seokjin dismisses the thought, laughing it off. “She’s dead now so it doesn’t matter.”

At that bomb drop, your actions falter. “Oh my gosh, Seokjin. I had no idea she passed away. I’m so sorry.”

Once again Seokjin laughs it off. “It’s alright Y/N. I use humor to cope so it doesn’t bother me as much. I do feel horrible for my boys, though. It’s a lot to deal with but I’m trying my best as a single dad,” a reluctant sigh leaves his lips, and your heart immediately drops.

“You can talk about it, if you want,” you offer, “we do have a lot of time.”

Seokjin makes a pshh sound of reluctance with his lips. “I mean, I don’t want to trauma dump on you, but if you want to hear the tea then I can spill.”

You giggle at his usage of the word tea. Why is he using the lingo of a teenage girl? He takes your laughing as a yes and continues to speak while he drives.

“Well, she cheated on me about five years ago with one of her work colleagues, and subsequently we got divorced,” he explains with a shrug, “I don’t regret it. I mean, I was heartbroken- I couldn’t even stand being in her vicinity.”

“I would have done the same. That’s completely on her, not you.” you expressively claim, becoming fixated on his words.

“That’s what I thought too, but then the kids had to do the whole one week with me, one week with her things, and I wondered if I should have just sucked it up to keep the family together,” he explains, looking as forlorn as ever.

The notion pains you; you understand where he’s coming from. Sometimes you don’t know if you can handle being in your ex-partner’s vicinity, especially considering the pain this partner may have inflicted. Nonetheless, handling the situation with emotional suppression and maturity is the only option for the sake of your children.

“Somehow the kids found out what she did, and it didn’t sit well with them,” he continues, eyebrows furrowing at the painful memory.

You have your own opinion on the matter, but it isn’t about you right now. Of course it didn’t sit well with them. You’ve been in that exact situation- the memory of your father with some woman is still vivid and it makes you nauseous to this day. Betraying your mother meant betraying you and your siblings. The pain and guilt you felt for your mother was indescribable. You were never able to forgive him for that.

“From then on, there was always a degree of resentment between her and the kids- and it never really got resolved. So, when she passed away, I’m sure my boys had a lot of regrets,” he finishes, sighing deeply.

“You’re really a superhero dad, Seokjin. You’re doing everything as best as you can for your boys, and I really admire that,” you insert, and you mean it.

“I’m trying, but I’m not so sure if I can replace the nourishment their mother gave- but I also suppose that she ruined it for herself too,” Seokjin sighs, fingers gripping the wheel even tighter.

“Um, you know, if your boys ever need some mother-es que feminine figure in their life, I would love to fill those shoes,” you offer timidly. “Haru really likes your sons, so I can always help out, or invite you guys over for dinner.”

“You know Y/N, I really appreciate that, and would love to take you up on your offer, but I wouldn’t want to cause strain on your family dynamic,” he expresses honestly.

For some reasons, his words elicit a very intense feeling of shame that echoes throughout your system. “I’m so sorry,” you enunciate. “You must have been uncomfortable… at my house,” you speculate accurately.

Seemingly hitting the nail on the spot, he sheepishly laughs. “Not uncomfortable,” he clarifies matter a factly, “He couldn’t have made me uncomfortable,” Seokjin jokes, “But, shit, I don’t know.” He brakes softly at the upcoming red light and leans his head against the window.

Rendering you speechless, you shrink into your seat in embarrassment.

Noticing your timid demeanor, Seokjin straightens in his seat. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” he perks up, “Y/N, don’t be like that. You can talk to me about it. You can trust me; you know I’d never judge you.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, the vulnerability of the situation making you want to shrivel up. But honestly you had no right, the man just opened up about his cheating dead wife.

You shake your head, looking down so he wouldn’t notice the tears accumulating on your waterline. “No, no, it’s not that- I just I feel so awful, going on a date with you when things with my ex are so complicated.”

Seokjin sends you a look of awe before sputtering out a laugh of disbelief. “Y/N, don’t feel bad about that. I mean- we technically haven’t even gone on a first date yet so this” he motions towards you and himself. “Hasn’t gone anywhere yet.”

You sniffle, wiping your waterline with the sleeve of your blouse. “I know, but I want to be your friend. I-I don’t want this be weird,” you explain between hiccups.

Seokjin amusingly sighs at the blubbering mess coming out of your mouth. “Y/N... you are the last thing on this Earth I find weird,” he trails off. “I mean, I am a little disappointed but it’s good we got this out of the way,” he admits. “Do you want to talk about it, though? How do you think you feel about him?” he asks.

Leaning against the window, you ponder what to say. “I’m not sure how I feel about him. I was hoping that we would get along since I like you,” you mumble softly. “But my ex-husband stays in contact, it's like he has some sort of hold over me.”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow as he processes this information. “What do you mean by persistent?”

Taking a deep breath, you try to push away the feeling of unease in your stomach. “He said some outrageous stuff, saying he'll always be around if I want him back," you explain. "I mean, can you believe that? He's the one who served me papers."

The older man lets out a low whistle. “But Y/N, ou are still quite young. Not to minimize divorce, but being impulsive and immature can cloud one’s judgement sometimes," Seokjin points out.

You don't respond; Seokjin has made a good point, but the divorce was so difficult that you would hate to attribute it to impulsivity.

“Do you think his feelings are genuine?” Seokjin presses on carefully.

“I-I don't know," you answer hesitantly.

"Would you like them to be genuine?" He follows up with another question that shakes you to your core. If Jungkook was truly serious about wanting to marry you again, would that make you happy?

After a few moments of contemplation, you quietly whisper: “Yes, I guess so."

Seokjin gives a half-smile and states matter-of-factly: “And there we go.”

You allow yourself to process the realization before it slams into you like a ton of bricks.

“Oh my gosh I still love him,” and then you place your face into your cupped hands, sobbing at the impact of the intense realization that has been taken over.

Seokjin is dumbfounded, hasn’t a clue what to do with this crying lady in his passenger seat. The way you’re crying and hiccupping into your sleeves while trying to express how you feel is somewhat adorable; he can’t do anything except extend a hang to pat you on the back.

“34, 35, 36, 37- daddy, I’m getting tired of counting. Can I get off now?”

“No baby, keep counting- just til we get to 100,” Jungkook’s replies, appearing a bit out of breath and lethargic. He pushes his body up and down against the rug with both hands, as if he was really out of breath. But really, he had an inner fire that he needed to put out or else he'd go mad.

Making his seven-year-old kid sit on his back while he does push-ups? That is so Jungkook of him.

“You’re a lunatic,” Namjoon calls out nonchalantly from his comfortable position on the couch. Namjoon’s wife went out for her friends for the first time since giving birth, leaving their baby girl alone with him.

The conversation in the group chat went something like this.

jungkook: wyd everyone

taehyung: ?? i told you i was in dubai for a meeting

hobi: he doesn’t listen when u speak, always in his own little world

hobi: I’m at a dinner with my girlfriend’s parents 👀

jimin: OMG!! Does that mean…? YOUre asking them if u can propose to their daughter?!?

hobi: yes

namjoon: COngrats Hobi!1!!1

namjoon: im just sitting on myass at home. The wife went out for girls’ night so i’m here alone

jungkook: congrats hobi, have a long marriage. don't be like me🤣

jungkook: wanna come over namjoon? My kids’ mother is out

hobi: lol they were both abandoned by their baby mommies

“‘m not,” Jungkook replies, aggressively continuing his push-ups until his daughter claws onto the back of his shirt and jumps off her father’s back.

“Uncle Namjoon, can you sit on his back? I’m getting tired,” Hina complains before plopping next to Namjoon and stroking the hair of his little girl.

“I can do it!” Haru appears from across the room, his tiny legs sprinting to practically cannon ball onto his dad’s back, and just like that Haru has K.O’d his father for the first time, leaving Jungkook’s (practically lifeless) body on the carpet.

Namjoon stifles a laugh. “What’s wrong with your dad, Hina?” he ponders aloud scooping some applesauce into a plastic spoon to put into his daughter’s mouth.

“Do you want me to feed Lauren?” Hina asks, and Namjoon nods, handing Hina the spoon so she can spoon-feed Lauren the applesauce.

“Well, daddy’s just sad because mommy went on a date. He’s still in love with mommy but mommy doesn’t love him,” Hina explains, the bold declaration leaving Namjoon astonished.

“How do you know so much, Hina?” Namjoon asks.

“I just do,” Hina shrugs casually, leading Namjoon to question the health of this situation.

Namjoon scowls, redirecting his line of vision to Jungkook, whose body is still on the ground like a thud.

Namjoon stands up, his daughter attached to his body with a baby backpack. “Get up Kook,” He stands in front of Jungkook, offering his hand. Jungkook looks up and accepts the hand, getting on his feet.

“Follow me,” Namjoon commands and Jungkook really can’t do anything but listen to the older friend. Opening the door to the garage, Namjoon lets Jungkook step outside before standing in front of the door like a bodyguard.

“Wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, and the realization makes Jungkook laugh. His misery is so apparent his friend sees right through him.

“The kids told you Y/N went on a date?” Jungkook guesses. “I have half the mind to call her back and say Haru broke his leg or something,” he trails off.

Namjoon looks at Jungkook mortified at his borderline toxic behavior. “You know you divorced her, right?”

“Yes, I fucking know that,” he seethes, “that’s why I just have to suck this up and deal with it.”

Namjoon places his palms over his daughter’ ears at Jungkook’s unbecoming language, glaring at Jungkook.

“Sorry,” Jungkook whispers, regaining his composure.

“It’s fine,” Namjoon adds. “But are you serious about still having feelings for Y/N? You seemed pretty sure about the divorce.” The comment makes Jungkook want to shrivel up and jump into a hole. He’s tarnished your reputation as a couple, and even his friends are questioning the validity of his emotions.

Why would you ever believe him?

“I am,” Jungkook declares. “Y/N.. she’s the only woman I’ve ever loved. I was never able to move on.”

Namjoon softens at Jungkook’s declaration, chewing at the inside of his mouth in contemplation. “Well, I don’t have my two cents to give,” he mumbles, “you already know you have to suck it up.”

He pats Jungkook on the back gingerly, and Namjoon’s analysis that there is no hope sucks the life out of Jungkook.

“Now let’s go back in and play with your kids. They’ll always make you happy."

Seokjin pulls up at the McDonalds, Seokmin coming out with a noticeable sheen of shame on his face. Seokjin unlocks the car and leans back into the welcoming fabric of his seat, releasing a sigh of relief when his son gets in the car.

Seokmin looks a lot older than you last remember- well that’s quite literally how the process of aging works, but now he exceeds your height, and has a larger and broader build than he did before. The resemblance between the kid and his father is astounding- Seokmin is practically a mini-Seokjin.

Turning to the backseat, Seokjin sends his son a tight-lipped smile and firmly squeezes his son’s hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yea I’m alright- was just a little scared,” his son responds, before directing his attention towards you. “I’m really sorry you had to come all the way here, and that I interrupted your date.”

You immediately shake your head and dismiss his apology with a wave. “Not at all, your dad and I had a lot of fun on the way here,” you insist, sending Seokmin a motherly smile.

Seokjin looks at you very amused before he glances at the uncomfortable sheen on his son’s face. “It’s not a date anymore, Seokmin- Dad wasn’t charismatic enough to win Y/N over,” Seokjin sighs jokingly.

Seokmin stifles his laughter, leaning back into the seat. “Oh no, what did my dad do to you?” he jokingly asks, making Seokjin roll his eyes at the comment.

“No, that’s not it all,” you thoroughly insist. “You know, your dad is very handsome, and very popular in the office, but I, I guess we’re just not romantically compatible,” you explain, and Seokjin laughs.

“Surprisingly I believe that. You wouldn’t believe all the crazy things girls at school say about him,” Seokmin shudders, recalling a particular incident that shall not be discussed!

You take a peek at Seokjin, who looks so effortlessly and naturally handsome, especially when he’s laughing at his son’s words. “Yup,” you agree, “I can definitely see that.”

The clock reads 2:13 AM when Seokjin pulls into the driveway of your home.

“Gosh Y/N, it’s so late. I’m sorry you had to come with us,” Seokjin sends you an apologetic look.

You dismiss the idea with a wave of your hand. “I haven’t had that much fun in a really long time, I feel like I’m back in college going to parties again.”

“But you stayed in the car the whole time,” Seokjin inserts, eliciting a sputtering laugh from his son. Shooting him a look of playful annoyance you smile at Seokmin. “Please try not to worry your dad anymore,” you lecture pointedly.

Seokmin sends you a lopsided grin, as if he can’t take you seriously considering your naturally playful nature. “Yes ma’am, and I really hope you’ll consider giving my dad another chance," he jokes, making his dad slap the back of the kid's head.

You send him a motherly smile before stepping out of the car. “Be good to your dad, and Seokjin, be good to your son. And hey, please consider playing with my son once in a while” you say, bidding your goodbyes.

Unlocking the door and stepping inside, you’re immediately met with Jungkook anxiously pacing around the living room. At your appearance, he pauses and looks at you if he’s verifying if you’re actually real. You stare at with him with mirroring emotion, just so thankful that he’s here, so thankful that he’s waiting for you, and so thankful that he still loves you.

You drop your purse and run into his arms, melting into the warm and comforting heat of his body. Though heavily confused, he welcomes your embrace with equal fervor.

With him right in front of you, your resolve crumbles. Your knees get so weak that you feel like you’re going to collapse. Jungkook immediately recognizes it and holds you up.

“Whoa whoa, Y/N, what’s wrong? What happened? Did he do something?”

You shake your head, leaning into him and letting him hold you while he strokes your hair. “Didn’t even go on the date- his kid called him and asked him to come get him cause a party got busted or something. We drove like four hours.”

Jungkook's shoulders relax, feels like a huge burden has been lifted from his shoulders. Thank God it wasn't for any other reason. He would have lost his mind. “You should have texted me back. You worried me.”

At that you check your phone, not even realizing that he texted you.

y/n: sorry jungkook, you can tuck the kids in and go to sleep- won’t be back until later in the night.

jungkook: ?

jungkook: what happened?

You crimson. “Sorry- I-I didn’t see it,”

Jungkook nods his head slowly and understandingly. “That’s okay. So, when’s the next date?”

Instead of responding, you melt back into embrace and rub your face onto his chest, latching into him like a koala bear.

“Y/N,” he laughs, “Look at me.”

You look up at him, and with the familiar sight of him peering down at you with concern on his face, you become emotional. You make that silly face you always make when you’re about to cry. You squint your eyes and morph your facial features oddly to hold back the tears, but Jungkook recognizes it, nonetheless.

“Baby… what happened?”

You shake your head again, pressing your cheek against Jungkook’s chest. You can’t live like this anymore. You have to let him know. “There isn’t a second date. Jungkook, I-I’m sorry. I hate pretending like my feelings don’t exist., I want to be with you again. I want our family to be whole again,”

Jungkook looks slightly speechless at your heartfelt confession. He hasn’t a clue of what to say, so he just hugs you tightly against him, gently stroking your hair with a tattooed hand.

Of course, his heart is soaring at the notion, but this is all happening with such rapidity that he can’t process your words. “Sleep with me tonight?”

“Okay- I will, just- are you mad at me?” you ask in anticipation, wincing at what he might say.

He softens at how tender you’re being. “Y/N, I’m tired. Can we go to bed and talk more?”

You grudgingly nod, so emotionally overstimulates and exhausted you don't want to think. You let him lead you to his bedroom before you head to his closet and change out of your suffocating clothing into one of Jungkook's oversized t-shirts.

Crawling into bed with him, you use his arm as a pillow and snuggle into his chest. Despite the smears of makeup on his shirt, Jungkook doesn't seem to mind. “Did something happen today?” he asks softly.

In between hiccups, you reply. “Seokjin’s a really nice guy and it was wrong of me to ask him out when I still have feelings for you. I- I don’t know…I just want to stay single forever."

Your confession shakes Jungkook up a little. It's not like he didn't know you still felt something, but hearing it explicitly is a different story. Jungkook sighs. “I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he insists. “But Y/N, I don’t think I can handle you welcoming another man into your life.”

“Okay, if you don’t want me to, then I won’t," you simply say, your voice calm.

“Then,” Jungkook starts slowly. “Do you want to give us another try?”

“I think I'd like that,” you stammer, as you sink into his comforting embrace.

Jungkook pulls you in close and kisses your forehead lightly. “Let's take some time to think about it, and then let me know how you feel tomorrow morning.”

You nod, snuggling closer to him, finally feeling like home again. You drift off to sleep with his arms still around you tight, both of your hearts beating as one unit now that it’s just the two of you together again.

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenario #bts scenarios #jk fanfic #bts jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #btsfanfic #bts jungkook fluff #bts jungkook scenarios #jeongguk scenarios #jeongguk fluff

828 notes · View notes

ughgoaway · 7 months

Text

playing on my mind

content warnings: swearing, referring to Matty as tall (look we all lie for plot purposes okay), dilf Matty and rushed writing... i think that's it? word count- 3.3k ish

a/n: woah this was quick but I am nothing if not impulsive!! this is just a one-shot but if y'all want a series I might do one?? idk it depends on how inspired I am lol. but yes this is just my little blurb-thing from yesterday fleshed out into an actual story!! I'm so glad people liked the idea, I hope this doesn't disappoint <333

(I didn't proofread this so I apologise if its utterly shit </3)

“And off you go! If you need your pencils sharpened or help, make sure you raise your hand! I’ll come to see you!” You say to the group of 30 little balls of energy in front of you. 60 eyes looking up at you might seem intimidating to most, but when it's a hyperactive group of 5-year-olds; the fear wears off slightly.

It was family tree week in your classroom, and you had given your little ones the usual task of drawing their family, each set up with pieces of paper and various pencils and pens to create their masterpieces. Seeing them smile and talk about their older sisters and brothers or how much they love their parents always warmed your heart.

You originally got into teaching with every intention of working with teenagers. You were sure you shouldn't be moulding such young minds - you were never sure your mind was a very good example. But one test week in a year 1 classroom changed your outlook entirely. Seeing the pure, unadulterated joy on a young child's face was something beyond comparison.

Getting to watch them grow and develop into little people brought you so much happiness that it could never compare to standing in front of a group of grumpy teenagers. Each teen boy clearly trying to get you over to their desk to “flirt” with you, well as much firting as a 15-year-old boy can do.

Seeing a child come out of their shell, make friendships, and discover their passions made your heart warm in a way nothing else did. So as soon as you qualified you jumped at the opportunity to teach these little ones, this class might be your first but you are sure it will always be your favourite.

And of course, despite what every teacher tells you, they have a favourite student. You were adamant when you began that you really wouldn't have a favourite but then little Annie Healy came bounding into your classroom with a mop of curly hair, untamable energy and the cutest slightly wonky smile you've ever seen.

She very quickly stole your heart, always wanting to tell you stories and going off on tangents rather quickly, organising tea parties but soon getting distracted leaving you at a small table surrounded by teddy bears giving a toast. Her little body seemed to be filled with enough energy to power the world 3 times over, and you couldn't love her anymore. The idea that she would be leaving your class broke your heart every time you thought about it, despite people telling you not to get attached - you did,

You had just settled at your desk after explaining for the 4th time to Zach that sticking pencils up our noses isn't a very good idea. You ended up telling him if he pushed too far, he'd touch his brain, and soon after that, the pencils stayed firmly in his hand rather than up any nose. If any student was the problem child, it was him. You couldn't hate any student, but let's just say he's given you one too many impromptu haircuts this year to be in line for your favourite.

Soon your real favourite student stuck her arm into the air and wiggled it around in an attempt to get you to see her sooner, little Annie Healy was ever impatient- a trait that is only endearing on her. You quickly nodded and started wandering over, trying not to laugh at her large toothy grin back at you.

“Hi sweetheart, do you need some help?” you say, crouching down to her eye level, flashing a sweet smile.

“Hi miss y/n!” she began, her eyes flittering around your face before landing on your hair, and soon, her hands were stroking your head.

“Wow! I like your hair! It's got sparkly clips in it! You know I asked my daddy for some like that, and he said-” you gently placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to stop the tangent before it started. You knew she'd somehow end up keeping you there for 20 minutes, giving you a detailed list of all of her Barbie dolls and their jobs if you didn't redirect her quickly enough.

“Thank you, Annie! I saw your arm wiggling in the air earlier. Did you need some help?” her eyes light up as she remembered why she called you over here.

“Oh! Yeah, I want to write what's in my daddy’s hands, but I don't know how to spell it. Will you help me?” she says, bringing her attention back to her drawing and grabbing the black pencil to continue her work. It's the first time you actually looked at her drawing, and to say you were concerned would be an understatement.

Most drawings of family consist of the same basic elements; a mum, a dad, a sun in the corner, and a house that is wildly disproportionate to everything else.

So imagine your surprise when you look down to see 4 men in what seems to be leather jackets, holding various musical instruments, and a very tall dog next to them.

You blink a few times. Just checking what you're seeing is right. The lineup starts with a tall man holding a guitar, next to a slightly shorter man also holding a guitar with a mess of black scribbles on his head. Next up is a very tall man with drumsticks in his hands and a kit behind him, and finally another very tall man with a beard and a bass. The concern briefly melts away as you consider how impressive it is she knows the difference. In the bottom left corner is a black dog with very long legs and a big pink tongue sticking out, the dog was almost as tall as the first man but you're aware kids aren’t known for their skill with proportion.

No one had prepared you for this in teaching school, there was never a lecture about what to do if one of your kids does a mildly troubling family drawing of 4 men in leather jackets and a horse dog. You try to stutter a response to Annie, but no real words are leaving your mouth. Just a jumble of sounds, each one sounding more confused and stressed than the last.

You flash a look at her only to be met with a confused head tilt and sad eyes. Oh god. She thought you hated her drawing. Shit.

Time for damage control.

You make the decision then and there not to ask her about the details of her drawing, desperately trying not to make her cry.

Maybe you could go and see her mum in the playground? Yes, that's what you'll do. You'll walk her out, have a brief discussion with Mum, and make sure Annie knows her family isn't 4 men in a band and then leave her be. That sounds like the professional thing to do.

You take a deep breath and smile at Annie, and soon her downturned lips flashed that cheesy grin you knew so well. You tighten your hand on her shoulder and grab a pen, ready to help her any way she needs.

“Do you mean the word ‘guitar’ Annie?” she gives you an excited nod as you continue speaking, “Ah yes, that's a really hard word for even grown-ups to spell. Let's work it out together, hmm?”

With your mind racing you help her sound it out and label her drawing, even stopping to sharpen her black colouring pencil for her- there's a lot of black for young girls drawing but she's committed to an aesthetic, and part of you respects that.

On the walk back to the desk, you begin practising your speech in your head, trying to figure out how to ask why she’s drawing a band as her family without unknowingly offending mum. Maybe she just really likes music?

You run through your memories trying to think of her mentioning a band before, but nothing comes to mind, Annie doesn't even stay on track long enough to talk about her family. Always seeing something shiny and discussing that instead.

You flick your eyes to her one more time just to see her animatedly talking with another little girl on her table, her hands gesticulating wildly and her curls bouncing as she tells her story.

The sight calms you slightly, seeing the little girl you know so well acting exactly as she should be. You have the fleeting thought that you might be overreacting, but eventually, you collect the drawings to see Annie had dated her work “1975”. Yup, that discussion with her parents was definitely happening.

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

The bell rings, and you manage to catch Annie just before she runs off into the playground without you, “Hi Annie! I have your drawing from today. Should we show it to mummy and daddy together?” her eyes light up as her curls bounce from her excited nods.

You walk hand in hand out onto the playground, crouching down you make eye contact with Annie before asking, “Can you point out your mum or dad Annie?”

She nods and begins scanning the playground. You stifle a laugh at the look of concentration on the young girl's face. Her nose is scrunched along with her eyebrows, one hand pulling at a curl by her ear and the other holding yours. Soon, you see her face brighten, and her eyes fill with joy.

“DADDY!!” is the scream that comes from the little girl as her hand shoots from her head to point to the corner of the playground, she starts dragging you before you even look up but as you do, you feel your heart drop.

As a student teacher, you'd definitely seen some hot dads, but they were still dads. Most were slightly creepy, partially balding, and talked about nothing but golf and their “annoying” wives. You were used to that kind of dad, not exactly this kind.

Standing nonchalantly in the corner of the playground was a tall man. A pile of salt and pepper curls sat on top of his head; untamed but effortlessly and obnoxiously cool. The white t-shirt he was wearing did nothing to hide the patchwork of tattoos that snaked up his arms. The low neck of the top even teased the top of his chest tattoo. Sunglasses sat on his face, they gave him an "I'm too cool" rocker vibe that, for some unknown reason, made you dizzy.

In one hand, he had a lit cigarette, something that was not allowed on school property, but the way his cheeks hollowed as he took a drag had you forgetting that rule completely. He dropped the butt of the cigarette to crush it with his heavy boots before taking a sip of the can of coke that was in his other hand.

As he noticed you coming over, a dazzling smile broke out on his face. You felt your knees weaken as you tried to brush off how hot he was.

You then realised you actually had to speak to this man. Fuck. You're not sure you even have a voice currently. If you opened your mouth, you're sure incoherent noises would come out, followed by wild hand motions trying to explain your insane behaviour.

The closer you got, the less you stared at him, feeling too intimidated to keep looking in his direction. This did mean you almost tripped 3 times, but you would rather fall than risk making eye contact with this intimidatingly attractive man.

Annie dropped your hand as you finally reached the man, and she jumped into his arms. He grunted at the force but soon began pressing kisses all over her face, smiling at her uncontrollable giggles.

Quickly, the man noticed your presence and stuck a hand out to introduce himself, “Hi! Sorry about that, you know what it's like when kids miss you. I’m Annie’s dad, Matty.”

And this is where a normal person would introduce themselves, stick their hand out, and shake Matty’s. Maybe even say their name and start talking, but oh no. Not you. You stood there motionless and just said “Matty” breathlessly to yourself 3 times over.

Time dragged on in the 10 seconds Matty stood there with his hand out. If you weren't aware of how time worked, you would swear you stood there in stilted silence for 10 minutes.

By some grace of god, little Annie Healy saved you and introduced you, “Daddy. This is Miss y/n. She wanted to come and show you my drawing."

Matty retracted his hand and pushed the sunglasses that sat on the bridge of his nose up to his mess of curls, just as wayward as his daughters. His deep brown eyes met yours as he tilted his head questioningly at your behaviour. His smile remained wide at you, his tongue swiped over his bottom lip, and you felt your heart stutter. A litany of inappropriate thoughts swirling through your mind.

He quickly diverted his attention back to his daughter, “Oh really munchkin? Is your drawing just that amazing? Is Miss y/n going to send it to all the museums?” he said whilst tickling her sides. You smiled at the pair of them watching Annie throw her head back with erratic laughter.

Finally, you manage to right yourself and begin speaking, “Right. Sorry about that, long day,” you explain, looking apologetically at Matty, who only nodded and tried to hide his widening smile at your flustered state.

“I'm just here to talk about Annie's drawing,” you pause briefly and look at Annie in her dad's arms. Not wanting to disappoint her, you form a plan in your mind. “Hey Annie, why don't you go practise some hopscotch! I'm just going to have a quick chat with your dad, okay?”

Before you’d even finished your sentence, Annie was wiggling out of her dad's arms and running off.

“She's got endless energy that one hasn't she?” you say wistfully, staring off in the direction she ran, watching her jump around and giggle with some of her friends.

“Ah like father like daughter, I suppose” Matty says, grinning at your clear love for his little girl. He feels his heart warm at your caring eyes. “So what seems to be the issue? I'm sure you're not over here because the Louvre has asked for Annie’s drawing?”

You laugh at Matty's joke, perhaps a little too hard. Nervous laughter was one of your less attractive traits, but you try to shake it off and have an actual adult conversation with Matty.

“Ah no, no phone calls from Paris yet,” you begin laughing lightly, you pull out Annie's drawing and pass it over to Matty and start to analyse his reaction as you finish speaking, “I was just coming over to ask why Annie's family portrait is seemingly a band? I wanted to make sure she knows her family isn't 4 tall men in leather jackets and a surprisingly tall horse dog.”

As you finish your sentence, Matty bursts out in hysterical laughter, folding over as his chortling laughter takes over his whole body. Your face scrunches up at his reaction, your eyebrows are pinched, and a small frown overtakes your features.

Eventually, Matty catches his breath and looks up at you only to realise how strange his reaction appears. His hand shoots up to your arm and begins to stroke it lightly as he attempts to explain himself.

Each featherlight stroke of his fingers made your breath hitch. You felt your eyes fogging over, and your ears felt as if they were stuffed with cotton wool, the surrounding sounds suddenly becoming muted.

A shake of your head brought you back to earth as you fought to focus on the words Matty was saying.

“Oh I'm so sorry, once you know the story you’ll understand my reaction” Matty began explaining with wide apologetic eyes, “basically Annie's mum isn't in the picture, it's just me and my 3 best friends,” he said smiling.

You lightly laugh and say, “Ah I'm assuming they are the man with the guitar, the one with the bass and the other with the drumsticks?” You finish with a teasing tilt of your head.

Matty's fingers encircle your wrist as that smile you've quickly grown to love appears on his face once again at your teasing.

“Yes those are the ones. You see we’re all in a band - hence all the instruments. I always tell Annie that Uncle George, Ross, and Adam are our family. So when you asked for a family drawing...”

“She drew her family!” You finish his sentence for him, staring at his hand and holding your wrist as you do. He quickly drops it, and you curse yourself for bringing it to his attention.

You wrap your arms around your stomach protectively in an attempt to hide your mounting embarrassment.

Matty smiles and starts to speak again, only to be interrupted by you, “Wait I understand that, but why did she date it ‘1975’?”

Somehow, Matty's smile grew again, “Our band is called the 1975. Weird, I know, but it comes from me being young and pretentious with a Jack Kerouac book.”

Before you could respond, Annie came bounding over and wrapped herself around her dad's leg, “Dadddd” she complained, pulling out the last letter to announce her annoyance to the world.

“Annieeee” Matty teased back in the same tone as her, picking her up as he did.

“Can we go home now? I want to see mayhem!!” she said, excitedly clapping her hands as she finished.

You shoot Matty a questioning look, and he quickly answers your silent query, “the horse dog” he says teasingly, parroting your earlier words back at you.

“Okay darling, let's get going then,” Matty says with a grunt, putting Annie down, grabbing her hand, and taking her backpack from her.

“Say bye to miss y/n Annie,” he says, smiling sweetly at you, but you can see the mischief brewing in his eyes.

His eyes keep your attention so long you almost miss Annie's sweet goodbye, “bye miss y/n! See you tomorrow! Can we talk about your sparkly clips tomorrow?” she asks with a tilt of her head.

“Of course, little miss Annie!” You say smiling at the young girl. You focus solely on her in an attempt not to get lost in her father's eyes again.

You watch them walk away but after a few steps they pause, Matty turns over his shoulder and waves with his free hand, “Bye miss y/n” he says with a teasing lilt to his voice and a flirty wink.

Before you can even process what just happened, he's strolling away casually, and all the mums in the playground are silently lusting after him.

A heavy breath leaves your chest as you start to watch him leave.

“Isn't he gorgeous” a voice behind you whispers, causing you to jump and let out a small scream. You hold a hand to your chest and look at your colleague with wild eyes.

“Oh my god, Amanda, please do not sneak up on me like that! I'm fragile” you say, now laughing at your ridiculous reaction.

“Sorry, sorry,” she begins giggling, “but isn't he just so hot? Annie was in my class last year, and I used to count down the days until parent’s evening! I mean, who wouldn't want to sit across a desk from a man who looks like that?” Amanda says, wiggling her eyebrows flirtatiously.

She begins to teasingly poke your sides at your awkward silence, and you quickly brush her off and straighten up, “Amanda! You can't talk like that about a parent!” You say, trying and failing to have any conviction in your voice.

“I can when the parent looks like that!” she says, smiling and watching Matty stroll away.

You huff at her behaviour and walk away, desperate to sit down and process what just happened.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your desk chair squeaks as you sit down behind your desk. You spin the chair and pick up a pen to begin marking some spelling tests from last week, but before long, you give up.

Staring off into space with endless thoughts poisoning your mind, only one thing can come out of your mouth.

“fuck."

#matty healy #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #the teacher reader obsession was too real #once again an obnoxious number of hashtags but we move #i hope you dont all hate this #unsurprisingly i do hate it <3 #teacher au!

387 notes · View notes

teyamsatan · 7 months

Text

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ɪɪɪ - ᴛʜɪɢʜ ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ

pairing: dilf!jake x human!reader (part of False God)

➽ a/n: i wrote this literally an hour before posting so i hope you besties enjoy x i was gonna reuse an older jake drabble but @jakexneytiri inspired this, so blame her hahahaha. dilf!jake will never not make me feral and weepy, much like our reader is. this drabble is also loosely based in False God, because the dynamic seemed to fit them. anyway i will stop rambling enjoyyy x

➽ words: 600 words

➽ warnings: it goes without saying, but all of these works (kinktober-related) are smut and therefore minors should NOT interact with them. other warnings include: slightly mean!jake, dacryphilia, pet names (doll, kid), p in v

➽ taglist (x) ➽ kinktober masterlist (x)

“Daddy…” the half mewl, half-whine you let out wasn’t lost on Jake, who, whilst couldn’t quite see your face, immediately perked at the name that will never cease to send blood shooting straight to his cock. He didn’t know how there was any blood left in his body, his erection so hard it was painful, twitching and throbbing, begging for your tight little cunt to wrap around him, to milk him 'til the last drop, 'til his seed was forever imprinted on your walls. But now wasn’t the time - patience is a virtue, one Jake has had to learn in time, in his 43 years on Earth and maybe even more so here, on Pandora. You weren’t ready. You were so small - too small -, a tiny, ineffectual human who somehow managed to pull him away from the life he’s built, with your beauty and your brains, with your inquisitive mind and your warm, inviting heart. You needed an orgasm, or three, to get your pretty pussy ready for him, for him to breed you like he envisioned and give into his worst, most delirious fantasies.

So here you were, after your third orgasm, still pouncing vigorously on his leg, that was glistening even in the dim light peering through the curtains, the sound of your moans, mingled perfectly with the slapping of skin on skin, enough to drive him into a frenzy.

“What’s wrong, doll? Tell daddy what’s on your mind.”

The hands rested forcefully on either one of your hips, pressing your swollen folds to his lustrous, muscular, tensed thigh released their deathly grip on you, settling instead for a comforting caress of your abdomen, drawing circles into the plush of your skin.

“You’re being mean.”

Your sniffles spurred him on, cock dripping in pre-cum and spilling down his balls, and he found himself reaching for your armpits, twirling you around like one of those Barbies that you had hanging on your bookshelf, a keepsake of a life you’ll never have. You winced softly as you were placed back down on his lower abdomen, finding steadiness on his abs, marvelling once more, as you always found yourself doing, at his body that felt carved by Eywa herself, at his bulging muscles, at the way he was able to make your body scream and writhe in the fine line between pleasure and pain until you were a weeping mess, much like right now.

His thumbs were gentle as they wiped the tears from your face, but there was a smugness to him, a mischievous glint haunting his beautiful irises.

“Went a little too far now, did I, kid? D’you need to get fucked dumb on daddy’s cock now?”

You moaned in between pitiful nods, cunt desperate to be filled to the brim with him, the emptiness too overwhelming to be denied anymore. As he raised you once more, your heart fluttered, excitement coursing through your veins as he aligned his cock to your needy entrance. The tip was all you needed to feel stretched beyond belief already, and your head fell backwards, eyes shut in the desire that pushed to the side the pain when the reward was all you’ve ever wanted.

“That’s right - fu-uck! There you go, princess. Let daddy make it up to you, huh?"

You could think about the consequences of your actions tomorrow, but right now, all you can think about is him, and the next 3 orgasms he’d coax out of you before you’d inevitably pass out of exhaustion, cock drunk and satisfied, as always.

taglist: taglist: @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @blue-slxt @eywaeveng @neteyamsikran @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @itsjazzsworld @daddysmurfslefttoenail @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @neteyamyawne @eyweveng @tiredwitch1113

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dietmountaindewbae · 16 days

Note

DILF ALEX PLEASE 🙏🙏

xxvi. teach me, teacher

alex turner x reader

word count: 3091

summary: Watching Mister (Early The Car!) Turner walk around class made you feel in a daze, hoping that one day he'll give you a valuable lesson.

warnings: sp*nking, age gap, slapp*ng, a bit of v*olence, male dom.

playlist

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The bell rings, and the class is dismissed but you stay until you finish, focused on the details of each trace of your pencil. These past few weeks have been stressful, finals were soon, and the teachers were exploiting you with millions of projects and exams. But the only class you felt like you had things under control was during drawing class, in today's lesson with Mister Turner, you took your time to trace your pencil lines with black marker and some color. You were lost in oblivion when you suddenly heard the heavy door shut close.

"Still here?" Says Mister Turner coming inside with his second cup of black coffee.

"Sorry... I'll be done in a bit Mister Turner" Your soft voice made his ears ring, and his eyes couldn't escape you. Your hair under your ears, your big doe eyes, and long eyelashes, your pink lips, and cupid's bow, the little beauty spot on your chin like a little kiss, and his eyes rubbed down your soft bare legs, that little skirt in your uniform left plenty for his imagination.

Then, out of nowhere, your eyes cross, in the blink of an eye he goes back to grading more papers while you keep drawing. Your heart skipped a beat, and he shuffled in his seat, feeling a drop of sweat running down his forehead, that little scare made his heart jump.

Mister Turner was a nice teacher to everyone, but recently you were falling behind, you had to take your time with each drawing, and he often was right behind you telling you that you should be working faster for the semester you're in. All you wanted from him were his little notes in your papers congratulating you, and now all you got from him was his notices. When he walks into a room, his big voice makes everyone's heads turn, you always follow him with your eyes wherever spot in the class he is standing in when he moves his hands to try to physically explain something that only in his brain was drawn out perfectly, the way he crosses his arms as he speaks or when he puts his hands on his hips as he's explaining any subject at all, he had a way with words no one else had, you knew that he was blessed with some magic or ability no other man had, you often thought about him.

You were needy for his attention but you were too scared to talk to him, whenever he came to check up on you, all you could do was nod and pray for him to accept your work, that's all you ever wanted, that's all you ever needed. And when he leans in closer to you, you cling to his smell of black coffee and strong cologne, you often lose yourself as you look at the chain that hangs on his neck, looking at it bling.

You hear the pen on the paper grading, and you raise your eyes to look at him, and you catch his eyes stripping down your skirt and rubbing his eyes down your legs. His pupils dilate at the look of your eyes and he drags his eyes back to his papers, pinching the bridge of his nose, he felt as if as though he had exposed one of his weaknesses, one of his guilty pleasures, a secret. He could feel a string of tension begin to rise, many questions in his head, but only one way to solve them.

He stands up from his desk, the heel of his boot clashing against the wooden floor, standing next to you, "Hope you're doing the work that you own me" He says very quietly, almost as if he wished his voice was part of the wind that blew against the windows.

"I don't think I owe you anything," You said, looking at him directly, and confidently.

"Last time I checked, you did" He drawls and slowly walks back to his desk, and you put your pen down

"Well, if you let this one slide then I won't tell anyone that you were looking at my legs," He turns and looks at you with big eyes, a subtle smile crawling to your corners, and you put your things back inside your bag, "I'll see you on Monday" Your fingers brushed your hair back, and he jumped out of his chair as he sees you approaching the door.

He chases you feeling the rush of blood in his ears, "Wait" His arm stretches closing the wooden door before you even try to leave, "You're not gonna say anything, are you?" You stayed quiet, looking at him through your lashes, he sighed, regretting ever revealing the truth, he had no care about what the principals or counselors had to say, what he was deeply concerned about was what you had to say about his twisted and cheeky little perverted secret, "I promise I won't do that again" He says it like a promise, but it didn't feel like one.

"I never said I wanted you to stop," You whispered to him, his big brown eyes blinked slowly as the look in your eyes engraved on his, "Now if you don't mind... I-" You tried to open the door, but there was no need to say anything else when it was clear what he wanted from you.

"You should finish your homework, then you're free to go" You turned on the heel of your shoe, and walked back to the tall table pulling your things out of your bag to keep working.

Mister Turner had watched you bloom into an ungodly magnetic girl, always sitting in the back, quiet, and beautiful. Something stirs inside him whenever he sees you putting on your lipstick and brushing your hair, whenever you sit cross-legged and he's able to see a little bit of your thighs. When you came back to school with your hair cut to your chin, he couldn't stop looking at you as you worked, admiring how your hair fitted and framed your face so perfectly, your big eyes took all of the attention.

Now, you both were alone, based on the words you said he decided to test how far he could go, compared to his hand on your shoulder whenever he congratulated you when you turned in good work, or when your fingertips brushed as he thought you how to solve your questions.

With his hands on his hips, he's determined to stand behind you as your hair reveals a little bit of your nape, "Maybe you should trace that line again,"

"Which one?" You asked with innocence.

He takes a step forward, pointing his finger to the line while his other hand lands on your back, his index and middle right on the clasp of your bra, you're eyes light on fire as his gaze turns darker.

"I liked what you did with your hair... looks pretty on you" You smiled as you tried to hide the redness in your cheeks as he dragged his fingers up your back to caress your hair.

"Thank you" You don't utter another word as he keeps playing with your hair, pretending to be way more invested in your homework than his hands on your hair. He catches onto that, taking a step behind you, he tears his hand from your hair, and you try not to act on it, still pretending to be distracted but he could feel how your body yearns for more.

His hand lands on top of yours, taking it away from the table, and putting it in your belly, sliding it down until it's in between your legs, pressing down on your weak spot, you unconsciously rubbed your legs together but he pressed his crotch against your ass, the bulge on his pants heavy and hard, you rubbed yourself against it.

"You can't pretend you don't want some of it" His hand that was on top of yours now slides down inside your panties, his fingers spreading your wetness all over your cunt, "You're crying for more" Your pencil dropped to the floor as he slowly begins to grind his hard-on against your ass, bending your back so your little holes can drool for more. Your voice didn't make a sound but your face and your body were arching for more, "Tell me that you want it" He says, waiting for your consent. He pressed your cheek against the table, pushing his hips closer to where you needed him, "Stop acting like a dumb fucking cock warming whore" You giggled at the things he has called you.

"You really want me to say that, Mister Turner?" You said with a smile on your face, he took his hands away from you, feeling as though he had made a massive mistake, you turned to look at him right in the eyes, rubbing your thighs together, "But what happens if I don't?"

He catches on to your games, and that little playful smile on your face tells him everything he needs to know, "You want to learn that lesson?"

"You're my teacher... teach me" You smirked, his lips hungrily kissing your mouth, his tongue eager to slip inside your lips, crashing against yours but he took over you so easily that you instantly melted into his arms and hands that gripped your short hair so tightly, into his roughness, you were delighted to do so.

He tossed you back onto your table, raising your skirt and spreading your legs open, his hand in between your legs, dragging your panties down to your ankles, "Arch it" His hand pushed your hips down so you were completely exposed to him.

"Is that the way you like it?" You tease, turning your face to look at him, watching his hand stroking his cock very softly. You played around with him, wiggling your hips just to tease him.

You didn't expect him to hit your bum with his rough hands, sliding his fingers inside you testing how wet your walls were, "I see you like learning the hard way, I gotta repeat meself over and over until you understand"

"Until I understand what?" You joked.

"You're in my class, you follow my rules" A laugh bursts out of your lips, causing him to flip out on you, hitting you harder than the first time, you hissed and he kept hitting you and slamming his hand against your flesh harder, pulling your hair back, each time he hits you, a tear rolls down your cheek but more wetness drips down your thighs, something you couldn't understand. All your fantasies were coming true, "You understand who's in charge right?"

Your legs and arms shaking, he turns you over to face him, whipping a tear from your cheek, squishing your cheeks together, nodding your head to tell him you understand, "I'll do anything for it" His little evil smirk spreads across his lips as he sees your almond colored eyes sparkle beneath his touch.

He grips your hips tightly, smothering his lips against your mouth, pinching your cheeks together, and ripping apart the kiss, "There are no other better words" He bends you over against the table, kicking your feet to spread open your legs, grabbing a fist of your hair, the tip of his slippery head right in between your thighs, teasing you slowly until you couldn't help yourself anymore, you stupidly tried to grab him and let loose, he pulls harder on your hair, sticking a slap right across your face, "I told you to not play around like that, you think this is funny?" He spat into your ear, slowly easing himself inside you.

Your teeth bite your lower lip and hum as he gently drags back his dick and slides it back inside your little hole, his fingers in between your legs going in circles, but as he pulls his hips back you can feel your walls tightening around him, begging him to stay inside you, "Oh my fuckin'- please... just please... I need you" You cry out miserably trying to convince him.

"Toughen up, I don't wanna hear a single noise coming' out of that mouth, you understand?" You nod your head as a tear rolls down your face, waiting impatiently for him to fuck you senseless, the anticipation getting the best of you, "You're drooling for more..." He teased your entrance, coating the head of his cock with your juices, "Didn't know you were like that..." Your name rolls out of his tongue like glory, and it sounds deathly and precious.

He eases his way inside you, your breathing gets stuck in your nose, and you try to keep up with the way his hips collide against your bum slowly at first, but with each moment you drag your hips back at the same time as him, he went deeper and deeper, and your legs started to feel it, you felt something burning inside you, something that tingled away in between your legs, and you were oozing for more, for something that put an end to it.

Your body tensed up as he suddenly grabbed a fast and hard pace, you could feel his skin burning against yours, digging his nails into your thighs, tearing and bruising your skin, there was no better pain, no other man that you ever desired. His fingers slipped inside your mouth until your throat closed, a burst of saliva coming out of your mouth as you pushed his body away from you.

He burst into laughter as you try to catch your breath, "What the fuck is your problem?" You gasped for air, "That was-"

"Too much?" He says with a smudged smile, "Thought you wanted me to teach you, you're not up for it anymore?" The cheeky tone in his voice mocked yours perfectly, you knew what this was all about.

"No, it's not that-"

"Oh come on, I knew you weren't serious, always laughing at me like I'm some sort of joke, and now you come here with all of this crying and whining, God! You can't handle anything" Your eyebrows frown together, "Don't look at me with those eyes" All you wanted was to scream and spit into his face all those vile words on your mind, but your tears ran down your face, the anger causing your insides to fire up and evaporate through tears. He set all of that fire at first glance.

He drags you closer to him by the elbow, "You can't say you don't feel what I'm feeling right now" Your nose reddened, his intentions just as clear as his writing on the chalkboard, he wanted you to fight for him "If you want me to be yours, I'll be part of you in any way you want... but just do it now, because I want you" Your arms around his neck, he kisses your cheek tasting your salty tears. But he was on top of you since the beginning, and like the man he is, nothing is really good enough for him, "I said I would do anything for you and I will, just keep me" You blinked your eyes slowly, his arms dragging your body closer to his.

His hands flew across your face, a spank of wind drying up your tears. He bends you over against the desk, hearing the weakness in your voice and the need for him had his mind so fixated on you, this fight had stopped and now he felt like the winner, he liked the triumph and the fulfillment of feeling your body twist and bend just the way he wanted, and you felt happy he could feed of your body like a vulture.

Your body relaxed as his arms hugged you close, lips on your neck, nose in your hair, not a single noise coming out of your lips, your mind was off wondering how long it took him to end you. His body smashing yours repeatedly, you looking at him through the crack of your neck, watching his eyes turn black, "You're enjoying this, you can't hide nothing from me" Your eyes closed tightly as you can feel him forcing himself deeper in that tight space, "You love when I get all mad on you, don't you?" Your cheeky smile burst onto the surface, he had caught you since the beginning, but he didn't want to fight anymore, there was no need for that. He can feel his heart palpitating so fast at the look of your pillowy pink cracked lips, his hands running down your soft hair, your body rocking against his so nicely that it makes his whole body vibrate, he's at a loss for words, so he wraps his arm around your waist, grabbing your hand and closing shut your mouth as your eyebrows push together and your walls began to contract and he pushed himself deeper inside feeling you burst like bubblegum, and your walls began to slowly ease up as your body gets covered with little flickers of electricity.

His eyes feel heavy as he smothers his cock in all your wetness, his gasps for air humming your name, playing around with your clit, and you were so sensitive and he couldn't get enough, but you were willing to handle more just for your man. His body was slowly losing balance and he grunted and you could feel him sliding outside of you so easily, feeling something warm splash into your inner thigh. That last warm breath of lust breezing your cheek.

"Here" He whipped down your thigh, and you adjusted your panties and your hair, and as you turned around, he pulled you close to him, giving you a gentle and caring kiss on your head. Your hearts warm up to each other instantly, "You did great, me darlin'"

"Thank you" That's all you needed to hear from him. He didn't call you by any other thing but his.

A/N

This was a special one, dedicated to my girl, my real, my best friend, and ofc thank you anon for your request but this was like two birds in one bullet sort of thing. She's my number one fan, and I gotta thank her for reading all of this, and for making me feel good about telling her about this, I thought I would take many things to grave but turns out, she's taking some of mine and I'll be taking some of her's, because that's what love is.

I lob u 😈💋

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #alex turner smut #arctic monkeys one shots #alex turner fan fic #alex turner one shots #lana del rey #alex turner x reader #jamie cook #matt helders #nick omalley #alex turner fanfic #arctic monkeys smut #arctic monkeys fic recs #arctic monkeys fan fic

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cyberfreaky · 11 months

Text

DILF!JAKE TAKING POLAROIDS OF YOU ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

☁︎ jake would lay you down on the soft cot, his large hands roaming across your bare body as he admired you from above. “gonna do somethin’ fun today, hun.” he’d drawl, smiling down at you — hovering above you and pressing his lips against yours. “wanna take some pics of my pretty girl.”

☁︎ “touch yourself, baby.” jake would instruct, placing his hands on your knees and parting your legs. you were quick to oblige, bringing your nimble fingers to your sensitive bud and rubbing languid circles. your head lulled back into the pillow, practically putting on a show for jake as he angled the camera. “mm, atta girl.” he’d praise, massaging the skin of your thighs as you pleasured yourself.

☁︎ you’d moan softly as jake’s digits pumped in and out of your tight cunt, the flickering sound of the camera ringing in your ears as you bucked gently against him. “feel’s s’good, daddy.” you’d pant, his fingers bringing you to a state of pure ecstasy. jake would grin to himself as he captured your arousal with one hand, leaning forward and teasingly licking at your puffy clit.

☁︎ he’d have you kneeled before him, your bitten lips wrapped around jake’s throbbing cock. “look at me, sweetheart.” he’d instruct, holding the polaroid in your direction as he prepared to capture the moment. you’d stare up at him, pricked tears welling in your eyes as his length pulsed in your throat. once jake was about to come, he’d have you open your mouth wide — allowing his release to paint your tongue and flushed face. “jesus, doll.” he’d grunt as he snapped the polaroid. “swear yr’gonna be the death of me.”

☁︎ your back was arched, the tip of jake’s length rubbing through your sopping folds. his hand was placed on the dip of your back, tracing shapes and lines into the soft of your skin. you keened into his touch, your hips thrashing slightly as you silently begged him to fuck you already. “please.” you pleaded, glancing over your shoulder with doe-eyes urgency. “need you. please.” jake smirked smugly as he captured your desperation, kneading the fat of your ass with his free hand. “patience, bun. just a few more shots.”

☁︎ jake would finally sink himself deep inside you. his eyes rolled back as he stilled himself, relishing in how tight you felt around him. “arrgh..fuck.” he’d groan deeply, picking up the device and quickly taking a polaroid of the lewd scene. jake would toss the camera aside and start to rut into you mercilessly — not being able to contain himself any longer.

☁︎ you were fucked dumb, still trembling from your sweet climax. you were flipped onto your back, neck and chest littered with purposeful lovebites. jake would smirk down at you, the flat of his tongue running across the various hickey’s he’d marked you with. “always such a good girl fr’me.” he’d croon, snapping one final shot. full body, your hazy eyes gazing up at him as you laid below him. “daddy loves you. so fuckin’ much.” you’d smile lazily at him — allowing him to snap as many polaroids of you as he wanted. this was perfection, you were perfection.

☁︎ jake stashed the photos away in a secret box, etching messages under each one. “my sweet girl.” — “daddy’s little slut.” — sometimes even just drawing a love heart. whenever you were away from one another, he’d always have them at his disposal.

#yum #jake sully #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully x you #jake sully fanfic #jake sully fanfiction #jake sully headcanon #dilf jake sully #avatar #avatar 2009 #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar smut #avatar x reader #avatar x you

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bitchlessdino · 2 years

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I have a request. You have to really imagine it. But like imagine DILF!seungcheol, with a daddy kink, being like your boss because you babysit his kid. And he finds out you’re attracted to him so he teases you about it. Long story short you end up on his thigh, him helping you chase your high. Then after that he makes you ride him, i don’t know why but I have this image of him throwing his head back and like that would be so hot. I don’t know this though came to me in class.-🎧

Pairing: F!reader x Seungcheol

Genre: suggestive unless yall count thigh riding as smut

Word count: 2.7k

Tags: dilf!seungcheol, loving father cheol, assertive cheol, mention of kids, thigh riding

author note: daddy. that is all. but also, A TATTOO CHEOL??? (mingyu voice: show me!)

Seungcheol was the eye candy of every PTA meeting, especially given that he is a single dad. That was one of the many things you’ve noticed since volunteering to take his place in volunteering in place of him at school events. Everyone practically gave you stink eyes seeing you instead of him, wondering why he bothered hiring a nobody when he could easily wife up one of the other single parents (yes those reasonings had no correlation, yet it somehow makes sense.)

You couldn’t blame them. Your boss is that devastatingly handsome. He turned heads every corner, smiling that gorgeous gummy smile he’s known for, even making you weak at the knees. You had to see him every day, it was natural you developed a little crush on him too, considering he checked all the boxes in your “Daddy issues must haves,” but that’s another story for another day:

He’s just so good with his daughter. He made every opportunity to prove that. He would do anything and everything for his daughter. You noticed that right away when he hired you to be her babysitter and that impression stayed with you even when you upgraded to au pair, basically breathing the same as him 24/7. That didn't make your feelings any easier to manage.

It was his fault now that you think about it. He had to grow super comfortable with you enough to walk around shirtless or come up from the pool for a late dip after the sweetie went asleep, going as far as inviting you to join him. You’d decline every time, thanking the night air for cooling your flushed cheeks, and quickly retreat to the guest room you currently reside in.

If it wasn’t to that extreme, it’s the subtle way you’re making dinner together, living out your delusional domestic dreams. His chest would briefly meet your back, grabbing something in front of you, which you could’ve easily retrieved for him. His gaze lingers on you a little longer than you should’ve when either one of you asks a question.

The tension was deafening.

“It’s really screwed up of him for being that attractive,” You spoke to the other line.

Nami, your friend, was used to your rambling at this point and rolled her eyes at your humble bragging about exactly how hot Seungcheol was, having personally only met him a handful of times. “Oh no, your super sexy boss is not only hot but a perfect father figure for his daughter, making him the most perfect living man on Earth. How awful.”

“It is fucking awful, Nami!” you cross your leg over the other sneaking glance in the gaps of your bedroom door, “He is driving me off a cliff. I don’t know how much I can handle being around him so often. It was fine every two days a week, and now it’s every day. What am I supposed to do with all these feelings?”

“Seduce him.”

“Nami, I’m being serious.”

“So am I, get sexy daddy boss to be your daddy.”

You couldn't see her but you can just visualize the wiggle of her brows.

“Yeah, I’m not doing that. And if I was going to, you know how bad that would go?”

You stand up from the bed to act out the scene in your head, exaggerating your strut toward an imaginary masculine figure, and drawing out the most nasal voice you could muster, “Seungcheol. I am so deeply and irrevocably attracted to you. Please give me one night to prove to myself how I can be devotedly yours.”

You lose yourself in your own laugh as it sounds off in the room, but it was not loud enough for you to ignore the deeper voice in the background. “Just one night?”

You freeze when you realize who it is. Nami could only get an “ooo” in edge-wise until you hung up the phone and hide the phone behind your back. “S-Seungcheol.”

A corner of his lips lifts to his ear before slowly approaching you with his hands in his pockets. He had his sleeves rolled up and the top three buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, revealing a sliver of proof of how he spent his mornings at 5 am. He softly snickers, “I’d love to hear about what you can do to prove it to me.”

“Sir, I-I was simply–um, talking about your admirers I’ve noticed. I’m sure you’re not blind to these kinds of people, how forward they are, or how brass…” You chuckle nervously to yourself.

“Do you happen to be one of these admirers?”

He gets closer to you, backing onto the cushion of your bed, towering over you curiously. You could feel your heart racing a million miles a minute, eyes rapidly blinking and you tried grasping any grip of reality. “I-I’m sorry,I—”

“How cute. I figured you were acting peculiar around me but the reason for it is much more interesting than I realized.”

Either of his arms creates a barrier around you, leaving you in his direct line of vision with barely enough air to breathe. His wide-eyed gaze is tense, piercing back at you as you stare back in fear and admittedly lust.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Miss Y/n.”

His deep gaze lowers to the shape of your lips, watching them quiver at the sight of him, which fueled the yearning that settled in the pit of his stomach. He sees your eyes dilated, yet shaken, seeing your body dip behind you into the sheets he paid for, you softly panting in the room he owned, staring back into his eyes like a deer caught in headlights. His breath tickles your skin and you could feel him draw him closer.

“I don’t know what I’d do if you confirm my suspicions.”

The tension severs when he hears the voice of his little girl calling for him at the end of the hall, dropping his head in disappointment with a soft whine when the moment passes.

He turns his head and responds to her. “I’ll be right there, sweetie. You wait right there.”

He averts back to you, the sly smile reappearing on his face. “When you join us for dinner today, you’ll sit opposite of me so I can keep an eye on you. When we tuck my little dove into bed, why don’t we have a movie night? Just you and me? Is that okay with you, Miss Y/n?”

You feel as if you held your breath for a long period of time, slowly nodding back at him.

“I prefer verbal consent, Miss Y/n. Would you please accompany me on a company movie night, just the two of us?”

A hasty gulp ran down your throat, “I would like that, Sir.”

“Good.”

The man lets you be, retreating to his daughter who kept calling out to him. His slow steps taunt, echoing in your ears as you fall back against the mattress. You take a silk-lined pillow to the face, muffling your screams, hoping to suffocate under the cushion like that moment suffocating you just then. A loud exhale escapes you as you pulled it away, and you find anxiously wait for dinner time.

Before that incident, Seungcheol insisted on making dinner and having kept that promise you enter the kitchen reluctantly with his back towards you. You keep yourself at a distance, watching the frame of his body constantly shifting as he diced green onions, and you lean against the wall next to him, taking quiet breaths and struggling to do so.

It wasn’t a long show when the most darling girl calls you by name and joins your side. Your eyes grow twice their size and picked her up in your arms, side-eyeing Seungcheol who perked up at the sight of you two together. He washes his hand thoroughly before following after, cooing at his daughter and stealing her away.

Her giggles were astonishingly infectious as he bounced her in his arms, similarly to her father’s laugh in just a higher pitched tone. She was just as sweet as candy, bringing light to every room she enters. You love taking care of her and dare you to say you love her. What wasn’t there to love about someone as precious as she is?

“Alright, now, my little dove.” he sets him on the tile floor and bends his knees to her level. “Y/n and I will finish up here and bring food right out. It’s your favorite, little darling. Spaghetti.”

She bounces in her step, gleefully shouting ‘pasget, pasget’ before running into the dining area, leaving you and Seungcheol alone once again. His eyes shoot right in your direction as he places one foot over the other towards you. Your feet trace back, stumbling until hitting the smooth metal surface behind you, unintentionally cornering yourself. It’s much like the position you were in only some time ago, feeling the weight of his presence, drinking in his full attention.

When you shut your eyes, anticipating the impact, instead you hear the suction of the fridge release. Your eyelids slowly parts when you realized he just went to grab something in the fridge which you decided to fall flat against. Seungcheol chuckles at your embarrassed reaction, shutting the door to draw his lips dear to your ear. “Can’t seem to wait for me, hmm? Be a little patient, dinner shouldn’t be too long.”

You could hardly focus on dinner after the events that have occurred, glancing up at your employer occasionally as he eats his meal, who cooing every few bites at his daughter beside you. You were lucky to not have had her across from you, fearing your anxiety was obvious on the surface, unable to meet his eyes the entire night. His gaze would occasionally drift off to you, taking note of the unsteadiness of your grasp,

When the darling did finish her meal, she was all ready to wash up, tugging at your shirt to have you follow. You quickly exchange looks with Seungcheol, who nodded and let you know that he’d be cleaning up after dinner. You get to her night routine fairly quickly: bathing her, brushing her teeth, and reading her the story she wanted luckily without a hitch.

You softly sigh as her eyes drift off to sleep, seeing that perhaps dinner was a bit indulging enough to give her the sleep bug. She murmurs words of ‘good day’ and ‘good pasqet.’ You pat her head, tucking her in when you hear from the door to her bedroom creak, her father being the culprit.

He presses a single finger to his lips before delicately approaching and having a hand resting on your shoulder, having you hyper-aware of that fact. He doesn't notice as his eyes are tending to his daughter, before pressing a kiss on her forehead. “Night, dove.”

The hand from your shoulder soon falls to the surface of your palm, lacing his fingers through. His head turns to you expectedly, watching that inconsistent breath leave you before whispering with a smile, “Shall we?”

You steadily follow him to the common area where a movie is already playing, seeing the familiar lion’s head roar at the screen above the fireplace. When you ask him what movie he picked out, he responds by saying it didn’t matter, “It’d only be background noise anyway.”

He ushers you on the couch, letting go of your hand. His whole body faces you, locked in your dazed expression, your head thinking, ‘what the hell are you about to do with your boss right now alone?’

“Mind explaining to me what that conversation was about this afternoon?”

You caught the words in your throat, an explanation you planned in your mind all day, replaying the script over and over until you were here with nothing. You blank out in his eyes, wonder what he expected, no, what he wanted you to say. He does nothing in front of you, simply balancing his chin on his hands, and propping at the elbows on his knees. His presence mere inches away from you was enough to sputter incoherent nonsense. Nothing comprehensive to the older man’s ears.

“What was that?”

“I’m…sorry.”

“Sorry about what?” he grins.

His body shifts, his expression relaxed and confident, and he fixates on your breathing. “You can tell me anything, you know. I know when to relax.”

“I…was careless and fully aware of what you witnessed, but I won’t take action, sir. I wouldn’t do anything that breaches our contract and trust.”

He snickers, glancing at the iced whiskey on the coffee table before retrieving it and taking a sip.

“Well, you’re a diligent employee, I’m sure, and even a better caretaker for my little girl. But I’ll have you know, there’s nothing in our contract about having feelings other than what other professionals do for each other.”

“For each other,” You repeat.

“For each other.” His index finger traces the line of your jaw, eyes dropping to your hips.

The silence persists. Nothing but the sound of practically white noise from the television sounds and you’re lost in each other’s presence. Seungcheol’s hand drops the glass back on the coffee table until ultimately rests on your thigh, meanwhile, your hand fingers the fabric of his cotton dress shirt was still pristine despite the stereotypically messy dinner.

“...May I make the first move then?” You ask.

“I would want nothing more.”

Scooting closer, your lips line up with his, hesitating momentarily before feeling the thick pair brush up against yours languidly. There was an immediate sense of guilt that you held hostage in your gut, pulling away almost instantly. His eyes stare back at you confused, watching you draw out excuses. “Maybe we shouldn’t…This seems like a bad idea.”

“Why…” He pesters, pushes you back on the couch, pressing you on, “because I pay you? Because I employed you? Or…because you think you won’t be able to stop?”

“...all of it.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.”

He takes hold of your hips and seats you in his lap in an instant, you now towering over him with your eyes blown out in shock. You groan making contact with his body, repeatedly bumping into your clothed cunt, dying to be set free of its restraints. His arms embrace your body with all the strength within him until he feels your lips finally relax against his. Your lips press against his daringly, a harsh pressure releasing with his tongue inviting you inside in mere seconds.

You press up against him, rhythmically grinding down on him. His groans leave him naturally, his grips tight on your hips. “Should I help you chase that high of yours?”

His hips guide you over his lap, seeing how one of your legs traps itself between his legs, he feels your body loosen underneath him, gradually picking up your own pace. His head slightly throws back at how bold you let yourself be. Your hand creeps through his hair, rolling your dampened arousal on the stiff steel thighs, “Mmh.”

“That feel good, beautiful?”

You nod achingly, “Yes, daddy.”

“Daddy,” his expression lits up, “Well that’s quite the declaration.”

“I’m sorry,” you manage to breathe out, “Can’t help myself.”

A devilish grin spreads far across his cheeks, pushing away the loose strands of hair away from your face. Your weight presses into him, and he feels his already hard cock twitch in his pants. “By all means, baby, call me whatever you want. If daddy is what you want, daddy is what you’ll get.”

You smile at him softly, gratefully, “Thank you…daddy.”

He soft moans, your body finding home in his embrace. Your tongue entangled with his, just pure heat between your body. His shirt is lost between the cushions of the couch, all thanks to you, and his hands reach underneath your shirt to hold you by the small of your back as the other kneads a breast in his hand. “Fuck, you feel heavenly.”

He moans against your swollen lips, running your body up and down on his thigh, hearing those sweet melodic moans he’s starting to get used to. Your skin was flushed against his, you whine loud and desperately for him to hear. “Please daddy. I want you to ruin me.”

And like that, a switch flips in his body and he’s pulling you up from his lap to loop around his waist. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

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