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#one of them keeping asking me if I have another brother because there is this really frequent customer who really looks like me
daydreaming-nerd · 2 days
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Our Girl (Bat Boys! x Female! Reader) Sneak Peak
Based off this ask
AN: thought I would give you guys a little sneak peak of this so if anyone wants to be on the taglist for it I can add them! I'll probably finish Azriel's bonus part in The Prophecy and Young Love Old Money part 14
(how do we feel about this mood board? I'm not sure I'm wild about it?)
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“Are you ready to meet them?” Rhys asks with a glint in his violet eyes. 
I nod.
“Good I’ll go preface in, come in when I call you,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow. 
Gods this man was incredible. Paycheck aside, I think I would bend over backwards just to hear him call me a good girl again. Something told me I would be doing just that for the foreseeable future. 
Rhysand opened the double doors and slipped in, the moment he closed it I pressed my ear to the door so that I could hear him. 
“Rhys what’s this about? I have business to attend to,” I hear a deep voice rumble. 
Rhys’ signature chuckle echoes off the walls, “I assure you Cassian that this is well worth your time.” he says. “Az you look tense,” he jests. 
“That’s because I am.” groans another voice. “We’ve been running all around the court righting all wrongs while you sit holed up in here doing paperwork.” 
“As I am well aware,” Rhys starts again. “And I don’t want to be known as the High Lord that merely takes, especially from the two males  I consider to be my brothers. So, I got you a little gift.” 
A pause of anticipatory silence fills the room. 
“Darling won’t you come out now?” Rhys beckons me. 
I open the door to find Rhys standing before two Illyrians sitting on the couch, both of them relaxed like this was their own home, and perhaps it was. 
“Huh?” asked the slightly larger one, with longer black hair. 
“She’s your gift, well, our gift,” Rhys said, pulling a hand around my waist. “I just hired her from the pleasure house in town, she is the best of the best. I know we all haven’t been able to visit the establishment since I came into power and I’m sure you’re both just as…frustrated as I am.” 
“How long do we have her for?” the same Illyrian asked, the one beside him seemingly more quiet. 
“She will be living with us. Use her as you’d like. Dress her however you want, but keep it classy. She’s as much yours as she is mine” Rhys smiles tilting my chin to meet his gaze and I swore my knees trembled a bit. “Though I’m sure she’ll remember who pays her?” he teases. 
“Yes my Lord,” I say seductively, it used to be an act, but not anymore. 
“My Lord,” he repeats. “I quite like the sound of that,” he purrs, looking over to the males sitting on the couch. 
The one with the red siphons smirks, throwing his arms over the back of the couch and spreading his legs. His thighs alone were the size of my head and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to get myself off on them alone. 
“Come here princess, sit on my lap,” he purrs, patting his thigh. 
I slip out of Rhysand’s grasp and pad over to perch myself on the Illyrians leg. The rippling muscles under me tensing. His hand comes up to brush a stray hair from my face as he takes in every inch of me. 
“You are a pretty little thing aren’t you?” he smirks as his other hand comes to support my back. 
Oh I was in for it, I was so in for it. 
(needing more Bat Boys content? Check out my other smutty Bat Boys fic)
Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @crystalferret202, @batboyrhyrhy , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark
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luminouslywriting · 2 days
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Love love love your band of brothers headcanons.
i have a request if that's okay! can you do band of brothers boys with girlfriend who has curly hair? please x
like I said love your posts!
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Nonny, this is so cute!! And as a girl with wavy/curly hair, I feel this one! I actually have another ask about the curly hair, so consider it done with this haha! Reminder that my requests are open for both MOTA and BoB, so keep sending them in!
Cut for length, more under the cut, some light spice sprinkled in haha:
Dick Winters:
-This man is a redhead okay?? So he gets the struggle of hair and he finds your hair to be absolutely beautiful
-He's never going to just, like, touch it—but man, he thinks about running his hands through your hair all of the time lol—and yes, he feels guilty over it
-Is the first to notice if you've done something with your hair and always compliments you on it (but at the end of a conversation because he's a soft man not trying to draw attention to things)
-Pays attention when you're talking hair care and absolutely would buy you hair care products
-When you finally get together, he treasures the small moments—especially when it's post-sex and he's just holding you and gets to have his hands in your hair
Lewis Nixon:
-Definitely calls you "curls"....it's just a nickname thing that he uses to draw away from the fact that he really really really likes your hair
-He's the type of man who can carry a whole conversation while concentrated and brushing through your hair in the way that you prefer
-Buys expensive hair care products for you just because he can
-Would definitely be into trying hair masks with you
-Loves getting to tuck his forehead against yours in the heat of the moment—and if a few of your curls fall over and tickle him? Even better.
Ronald Speirs:
-He's not indifferent to your hair....but he's not about to go out of his way to point out that he likes it either
-Speirs strikes me as the type of man who would be pleasantly surprised the first time he actually sees your natural curls, but he's not about to say anything about it
-The only indicator that he likes your hair is the fact that he likes to braid your hair after showers, especially showers that the two of you share
-Loves early mornings where he can just mess around with your hair while you're still sleeping; it's a soft and tender moment for sure
-Encourages you to have your hair down and natural more often
Buck Compton:
-HYPE KING—listen, he just likes hair and is proud of your hair for you
-He knows just as much about hair care, if not more, than you do
-Would carry around a hair tie in the event that you need to pull your hair up
-Always compliments the curls and knows how to help in heat or cold
-Compares you to Venus and Aphrodite with flowing curls of hair during sex, I don't make the rules
Carwood Lipton:
-Thinks your curls are adorable and will proceed to tell you in a soft manner when you're on a date
-Usually finds himself staring at you and is easily able to pick you out of a crowd by just seeing your hair
-Specifically asks you too teach him how to do your hair because if you have daughters, he wants to be able to help them with their hair (TENDER MY HEART)
-Is the best at detangling snarls and so devoted to helping with the tangles in your hair
-Always takes the time to tell you how pretty you are
Joseph Liebgott:
-Proudly brags about how beautiful you are and how soft your hair is and how good it smells
-Intentionally buys all sorts of scented shampoos and conditioners for you
-Likes washing your hair for you, especially after sex haha
-CUTS YOUR HAIR FOR YOU TOO—he's down to try pretty much anything you want for haircuts and is so focused when he does it
-Is probably more proud of your hair than you are tbh
Donald Malarkey:
-Asks you for hair care tips, tbh
-The first time he sees your hair out of a helmet or a bun, he gets all starry-eyed and absolutely falls in love haha
-Is admittedly not great at hair, but he will give it his best go with you
-Absolutely likes to cuddle and be the big spoon so he can smell your hair at nighttime
-Panics the first time that you ask him for help with detangling your hair but gosh, he certainly tries his best
Eugene Roe:
-COMPLIMENTS ALL OF THE TIME ABOUT YOUR HAIR
-He simply thinks that your hair is one of the prettiest things about you....so he's finding small little trinkets that could go in your hair
-Insists on learning about hair care and how he can best help you maintain your hair, whatever the length
-If you're ever sick, he will help you wash your hair so that it feels nice and clean
-Randomly knows how to deal with frizzy curly hair?? Because of one of his sisters. So he is a great help in that.
Bill Guarnere:
-Body positive hype king—who absolutely goes on and on about how amazing your hair is
-Specifically fell in love with the way that your hair smells and now he keeps a lock of your hair in a locket that he wears
-Buys you more brushes than you could ever possibly need
-Definitely consulted his older sisters about how to help with hair problems and came back a pro with all of the info you could ever need
-Knows a bunch of home-remedies for frizzy hair or how to help maintain curls in the cold
Joe Toye:
-Absolutely charmed you by giving you a flower for your hair
-Gets all blushy (not that anyone ever found out) the minute he sees your natural hair
-Is already planning on how to make his parachute into a wedding veil because it will look so good in your hair
-Loves the bed-time routine and when HE gets to be the one to brush through your hair before bed. It's a favorite of his for sure.
-Consistently brings you flowers for your hair throughout the rest of your relationship
George Luz:
-Accidentally blurted out his intrusive thoughts about your hair that were oddly weird and sweet??
-He's got a thing for knowing exactly what hairstyles would look good on you with your hair
-Absolutely brags about you to everyone who will listen
-Is such a shy softie when you ask what he's staring at during sex and he has to admit that he just really likes your hair and touching it haha
-Thinks you look even better with wet hair though, and that's a whole other story lol
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hey, can you do rosie, carmilla and sera x platonic! adopted son! male! reader with depresion and androphobia like in my last request
"Momma's Boy" ; Carmilla Carmine, Rosie, Sera
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She's one of the fiercest defenders of anyone who needs it, honestly, and she's very glad you're comfortable with women.
It doesn't take long at all for her to take you in, integrating you into her family and getting you acquainted with Odette and Clara, who eagerly accept you as another Carmine.
If you're comfortable with it, she'll also make you part of Carmine Arms Dealing, but if not, no pressure. She won't force you.
If your father is already in Hell... well, don't expect him to be for long. :)
Odette and Clara help hide the body.
The same fate to whoever intentionally disrespects or makes you uncomfortable, actually.
"And what do you think you're doing, violating my children's security in their own space?"
- Carmilla, after stiletto-ing someone's hand off for making you uncomfortable and refusing to back off.
Doesn't really understand mental health much, since she's more focused on physical safety.
Fortunately for you, your new sisters can help you with that, instead. :)
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Rosie is just the sweetest! It doesn't take long to open up to her about your past at all, and she immediately takes you in as her own!
She'll probably over-baby you, asking if you "want Mama to do that for you?", "need help with that?", etc. It's a little annoying, but her heart is in the right place.
"C'mon, baby doll! Tell Mama Rosie all about it!"
She's honestly really hard to say no to because she's so sweet.
Understands mental health a little better than Carmilla, but not enough to help you, herself, so she takes you to see a therapist.
A female therapist, of course.
And she'll go with whatever treatment she recommends and you're comfortable with, whether that be CBT, hypnosis, medication, or anything else along that line.
She's also not above threatening people who frighten you on purpose, either.
"Hmm... Y'know, sweetheart, you remind me of my first husband! I'd say he could tell ya himself, but sadly, my steak can't talk anymore."
That tends to shut people up, quickly and easily.
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She'll take you in, but... unconventionally. You won't become a Seraphim or anything, but she'll keep you close by at all times, not trusting anyone in case something happens to you.
Fortunately, there are places in Heaven for people with phobias like yours.
She'll keep any men she possibly can away from you, and won't hesitate to reprimand anyone she spots making you uncomfortable. After all, who would defy their benevolent queen?
"Excuse me, but I have to ask you to stop what you're doing. My dear son isn't comfortable with this kind of attention."
And like the protective mama bear she is, she'll shield you with her wings and let you play with them if you want while she handles the situation, if it keeps you calm.
Like Rosie, she gets you a therapist, and does whatever technique suggested, just wanting to see you get better and be okay again.
If your father ever somehow did make it to Heaven, she'd have a bone to pick with God, himself over it, wondering how he could let someone so cruel into paradise.
"What kind of joke is this? You represent purity, yet you let this filth into our midst?"
She also uses her angelic powers to soothe your mind at times if it ever gets to be too much for you. She knows all too well what painful memories can do to a person.
And best of all? You get to be like a brother to Emily! It's a win-win all around, really!
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spotsandsocks · 2 days
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Title for you:
From Here Til Never
Ok this was tricky… I’ve been thinking and I’m going with amnesia fic. I’ve never done one of those!
Also adding a bit to the title I’ll remember you from here to never
Eddie is missing presumed dead, I think he’s away from LA when it happens, maybe visiting Texas. Buck gets the news and is obviously distraught, already looking after Chris so he just stays at Eddie’s, regretting lost opportunities etc.
Meanwhile Eddie is somewhere else, random small town type place. Don’t ask me how he actually got there. He can’t remember his own name but some things keep catching his attention it make him feel things.
We can have a lightning storm that upsets him, makes him feel like he’s lost something important
Conveniently for me there’s a church in town called St Christopher’s that he just goes and sits outside
He catches the end of an interview of a red headed reporter on a talk show talking about her book… and loathing her on sight
On a checkup at the hospital a girl with crutches walks past and he starts crying
There’s a picture of Scottish highlands with a stag on the wall in the house he’s staying at he and he can’t stop looking at it.
He picks up a carved stag in a thrift store and has to buy it. Keeps it by his bed. Likewise he sees a st Christopher medal and buys it, puts in on straight away.
Finds out he can draw/paint but his art keeps ending up in shades of blue for some reason.
He gets taken hunting by the people who took him in and stops someone shooting a young stag when asked why he can’t explain it
He’s also strangely competent with the guns but can hardly bear to touch them.
Anyways…l time goes in then one day someone comments on his obsession with stags (which has ended up with several pictures, ornaments of stags. Except they say
“That’s a lot of Buck’s ya got there.”
Buck?
Sure male deer, stag or a buck.
Buck?
The word makes him feel strange. A sense of loss and longing.
That night he dreams of blue eyes and blood on a face he doesn’t recognise
The night after he dreams of a boy who should be wearing glasses but isn’t. He looks for those glasses in his dream until a hand covered with blood gives him a small red pair
Then sitting in front of the church again the name and the boy without glasses become one and he knows his son’s name.
He has a son. And after that another name; Buck. Buckley. Blue eyes and a red mark over one eye. A smile and a feeling. The man from his dreams. His name is Buck. The two names are accompanied by the most desperate urge to get back to them. Chris and Buck. He wants to go home. He has a home, a family. Chris and Buck.
Some investing and discussions… brother? No not a brother, definitely not a brother. Husband? That word makes him ache and he knows that he’s not a husband. They look but nothing.
Then another name comes back his own and after that more and more until he has a destination and he leaves to find it.
Probably finds Bobby first so not to give Buck and Chris a fright! Then reunion and we get Eddie explaining his collection of stags to Buck (brought them with him, putting them on shelf carefully Buck asks why and Eddie explains.
I wanted to be close to something that reminded me of what I’d lost, who I’d loved. I expect you know stags can be called bucks too.
Even when I didn’t know my name I knew yours, knew you, because I love you. I knew that even when I didn’t know anything else.
And what’s Buck going to do after that than hold onto the second chance he’s been given and kiss the man that came back to him
🤷🏻‍♀️ that’s what I’ve got … hope you like the idea 💡 and thanks for the ask 💜💜💜
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dykevanny · 1 month
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had a really funny idea for an ask blog ft. Vanny and another plex employee oc,,
#Get this right. 2 pizzaplex employees accidentally get tumblr famous bc someone has been leaving weird graffiti everywhere and#Getting up to other shenanigans and sends asks abt it to this one like urban exploration blog. Who later gets an ask basically like#Hey I work at the plex?? This is some insider info only another employee would know????#The two anons are constantly back and forth in this persons inbox and are eventually assigned nicknames#‘Pix’ for the mystery vandalism employee because she shows up as nothing but weird pixels and glitches on cameras#The other employee is ‘Cam’ because they have been monitoring all this on the cameras#One day they get each others blogs and keep sending each other death threats and shit jokingly but one day pix warns cam not to go to a#Weird late staff meeting#The next night it is literally just the two of them and they think this is so funny they start a blog trying to uncover why everyone else#Just isn’t coming in. At first they are like well layoffs duhhhh#But then ppl send asks and messages like ‘hey have u seen this employee it’s my brother/friend/etc’ and they realize shit is actually going#On in here#One night cam is live-blogging their shift and sees a weird intruder in a costume with a knife and runs around eventually escaping and find#Pix lying at the bottom of a stairwell unconscious with a bloody nose later#Takes pix to the hospital. Only to be alone in the plex the next night and suddenly get a phone call saying that pix left the hospital. Bc#Pix left cam as the emergency contact because ‘she didn’t have anyone else’.#Cam has to survive the masked intruder#eventually starts recording everything but when the intruder gets closer the footage gets glitchier#Eventually there’s just one fuzzy image of the intruder with Roxy and Monty standing on either side and that’s the last we hear of cam. Nex#Post is pix saying hehe thanks for following our little story aha !! Bye now it’s over!! And that’s it…..heheheheh#Killer rab blog has become a little boring for me so… might start this soon….#I’d have to make like 2 blogs plus some fake dms too probably . Damn
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incesthemes · 3 months
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hey girlie it’s me, sam winchesters gay lover, your mootie 🥰🥰🥰 i just wanted to let you know, that your tags on the post about that wincest video are based and i agree with every word, hashtag slay couldn’t agree more i loved reading your essay in those tags heart ❤️
omg thank you!!! i'm basically only capable of talking in essays whether people want me to or not, unfortunately
i just have a lot of feelings on this topic and the whole "canon or not canon" argument is weird to me; the themes are pretty darn clear in supernatural (it is NOT known for its subtlety) so idk man. they don't have to kiss to be canon. and they don't have to have a romantic relationship to be canon either. how many times do they get into relationships with other people only for it to be treated as cheating/betrayal/abandonment, only for them have to give up that relationship in order to reaffirm their devotion to their brother
that's just what the text says. i'm not under any kind of delusion that they have some secret sexual or romantic relationship, but that doesn't change that sam and dean are each other's most important person regardless of that. which is really awesome imo, that romance isn't treated as more important than whatever horrible thing they have with each other, and that they don't have to consummate their relationship with romance/sex in order for it to be the most important one they have
(and of course there's romantic/sexual subtext, like parallels and metaphors and misunderstandings and jokes, but to me that just provides a solid foundation for presenting this relationship between them as the most important even though it's not romantic or sexual—because this language of romance is the only one we know, really, when it comes to writing important relationships between characters. it's the only one we know in our own personal lives, to a large extent. so you use the romance/sexuality to symbolize the actual bond they have. which is so much worse lmao)
anyway i think spn is fairly unique in this way because of how no other relationships can really ever stand parallel to the one they share; even in other shows that center male friendship, romance is allowed to coexist with brotherhood. for sam and dean, it's not, and that becomes a point of tension and conflict and resolution many, many times over the course of the show. so like yeah!!! just because it's not romantic or sexual doesn't mean it's not canon, in the sense that their relationship is the point of the show, and it is the most important relationship they have. they chose each other above all else, every single time. yknow, it's "the epic love story of sam and dean" and all that
#ask#sorry. i did not intend to write another essay about this#but as i said i am only capable of talking in essays. my apologies#to be honest the only reason i have so much to say about this is because i have seen some truly baffling takes about what sam and dean are#and every time i see one i have to sit here and think about it. like how did you arrive at that conclusion. what are you watching#mostly in terms of like. people saying sam and dean are not weird and codependent and enmeshed with each other#that's just blatantly not true because again. this show is about sam and dean and their relationship. textually subtextually metatextually#the concept of even having to defend their relationship as canon is as confusing to me as having to defend umm rubysam is canon#or something#like it happened. they were together in canon. we saw them have sex. you can't say rubysam isn't canon because it's right there#same thing with sam and dean. the difference is the nature of their relationship and the fact that i guess people don't want to like#think of it as canon when it's not romantic????#it's such a no-brainer kind of thing. like the fact that i'm sitting here trying to explain myself is embarrassing me bc it's like#no shit sherlock#but again the only reason i am thinking about this so much is because i keep seeing people trying to deny or downplay their relationship#in the first place#which is BIZARRE to me#like idk i don't see people trying to deny that ummmm fuck. killua and gon hxh aren't canon friends#that they don't even like each other#wow i'm seriously rambling. apparently i have more to say about this topic than i originally conceived#idk man i get people are uncomfortable with incest but the point is that it's like. not. their canon-ness is not related to incest#they're just insane about each other and they are each other's most important person. they are more important than romantic pursuits#the uniqueness is that it trumps all other relationships and cannot coexist with any others. that's what's so canon about it#it's not just friendship. it's not just brothers. it's not just husbands. it's everything and nothing and so much more all at once#shrugs. sorry for rambling AGAIN#i hope i'm making sense here#supernatural#wincest#spn posting
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cluescorner · 1 year
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There is nothing more wholesome than my catholic grandmother trying to understand LGBTQ+ stuff. Like, she has me remind her about all of my friends pronouns, asks me questions about how I learned I was gay, and treats me and Clover the same way she treats my brothers and their girlfriends. The absolute cutest and funniest thing she ever did involved Elliot Page’s coming out. So she read that Elliot Page uses he/they pronouns and, being an old lady where this was her first experience with somebody using multiple pronouns, she fucked it up in the most wholesome way possible. I am guessing that she googled what it meant when somebody used two sets of pronouns, read that it was important to use both of those pronouns for a person, and stopped there. So, rather than using one pronoun when discussing Elliot, she used BOTH AT THE SAME TIME. 
“Oh, have you seen his/their post? I am very happy for Elle-ELLIOT (yes she screams to remind herself of peoples ‘new names’)! Do you think he/they is going to keep playing his/their role in umbrella academy?” 
Funniest shit that has ever happened. I corrected her about how to actually address somebody with two sets of pronouns and she was like ‘oh thank God that makes much more sense’. 
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kanene-yaaay · 1 year
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Yay :3
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lionblaze03-2 · 10 days
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personally I don’t hate gray wing nearly as much as everyone else because he’s a great example of having rose colored glasses just because ‘well, he’s family’, and not realizing until far too late that that essentially ruined his life and made him amount to almost nothing. Because clear sky is his brother, he wants to assume the best of him. Surely, my brother would never. Surely he didn’t mean it like that. Surely he’ll do better next time. He’s my brother. He COULDN’T be a bad guy. So he keeps giving him chances, over and over and over again, until it’s completely destroyed him. Until he can no longer breathe, his lungs full of toxic smoke that clear sky abandoned him to breathe in, until he is under his claws, nearly killed under the moonlight, until his people are battered again and again, until borders become inevitable. But he never, ever realizes, because- it’s his brother. Surely, his brother will do better next time. Surely, he didn’t mean it. Surely, he will change.
And believing that is the death of him.
#It was always to my understanding that he died early BECAUSE of the lung damage#And that the fire and leaving gray wing behind was on clear sky. I don’t remember how but I remember it was#Clear sky’s actions got gray wing killed in the end. But he loved his stupid brother so much he was blind to see it until he literally died#Hell. And even after.#Because- they’re brothers. Surely. Hell do better next time.#Like people who keep forgiving their family over and over#Ohhh but hes changed!!! No he hasn’t. He may pretend for 10 minutes but he’s going back after another#but it’s my mom/dad/brother… I HAVE to have a relationship with them… because… yknow… family….#When really the best thing to do when you have a clear sky is cut that fucker off#Because he will slowly drain the life out of you and everyone around you#BUT. I don’t HATE the person who doesn’t cut off their family member#I feel SORRY for them. That they can’t realize how badly they’re hurting themselves keeping this up#So. I don’t hate gray wing.#Clear sky is a bastard and I’d say I hate him as a person tho. but not as a character either#Because he’s a villain and those motivate plot. I know they change their mind later. But I didn’t. I didn’t forget#And I choose to believe the powers that be didn’t either. Given skyclan all dies within the next decade and stays gone for generations#But I guess none of that is CANON text. It’s just also not NOT canon. It’s not an AU au because it like#COULD be why. They just didn’t say one way or the other#Anyway gray wing is really just like. A pathetic wet mop of a guy#Definitely no wise sage#But I do not hate him. I cried when he died at the end of path of stars#I pity that he never got to live a life free of all that toxicity because ‘but we family’.#Like a lot of older. Perhaps religious raised. People I grew up around with shitty family members#No you don’t owe it to anybody no you don’t have to respect thy father and mother if they don’t respect you#You never asked to be born. Etc etc#But that. They gave me something and family is family and blood is thicker than water attitude#Is very common around rural religious areas. Which is. What I think of the clans as. Backwoods evangelicals#ESPECIALLY in the early days#Well. Bulls’ shit is thicker than blood. And that’s what your life is gonna be full of if you stick with toxic people because of blood#Anyway whatever none of this means anything. Just. Saying words
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Warning || Men Like Me
Masterlist
Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girth age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), gratuitous descriptions of Joel Miller's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, breaking and entering, playboy magazine, objectification, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 6.2k Summary: Joel's warnings about what men like him would do to girls like you only makes you want him more. A/N: Back in the depths of hell again, you guys. Now this isn't the most depraved thing I've written by any means but it's up there. Come say hi in my chat or inbox, I'd love to talk. Keep a look out for follow up parts and pleeeeease give me comments. I am very very desperate.
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Joel Miller was a bad man. That much he knew. 
Even as he fixed taps and renovated houses that were falling apart, he could see the blood on his hands. The very hands that packed lunches for Ellie snapped necks, pistol whipped men, stole from a starving child so he could feed his grown brother. But there were lows even he didn’t stoop down to. 
Not that he didn’t have the opportunity. Men always did. And in this world, opportunities had only tripled. Even the Boston QZ, as strict as it was, had an underground brothel. He knew Tess to frequent it and never asked questions. Sometimes she needed to bury her face between a good pair of thighs and wrap her lips around a pretty pussy, and this wasn’t something he could give her. There was a lot he couldn’t give her.
Being in Jackson should’ve civilized him. It did in many ways. He’d reverted to the southern gentleman with table manners. ‘Yes, Ma’am’ spilled out of his lips effortlessly when he spoke to women. He held the door for anyone walking in after him. He even went to Church– sorry, the multifaith house of worship–to help renovate. 
That was where his troubles began. 
There was no point in him going where people prayed. Being back in civilization did not erase his decades of disbelief in a cruel God who would take his baby and keep him on this accursed Earth. But he did because he was back to being a contractor and Tommy asked him to go fix up the pews instead of him. He didn’t have much time, being a new dad and all.
He was on his knees checking out the rotting wood and evaluating how much wood he’d need for building new ones when he was confronted by a pair of legs and a sweet voice. Yours. 
“Lemonade, Mister Miller?” 
He looked up, his eyes traveling up your legs, bare until he got to your knees where the hem of your flowery skirt sat. Pure, unblemished knees, never taken a fall, didn’t fucking creak, and never knelt before anyone but God. You looked down sweetly, eyes wide and innocent like a newborn cow. Everyone had a kind of darkness about them in this world. Everyone except the kids who didn’t know a world outside the insular walls of Jackson. And you, it turned out, even though you weren’t a kid.
He wiped his sweat off with the greasy rag he carried and looked up at you once again. You had a pitcher and an empty glass in your hands. A sweet smile on your lips and hair falling down your shoulders and reaching your breasts. A yellow ribbon sat in a bow where your neckline dipped between your breasts, adding to the innocence of your look.
“Yes please, Ma’am. Thank you,” he said, giving you a nod. Your pretty plush lips curled up, a giggle escaping them as you poured him a glass of lemonade. 
His hand brushed against yours as he accepted the glass, his hand too large to curl around it without making contact with you. You giggled again before retracting your hand and occupying it with adjusting your hair. 
“I’m younger than you, you know? Don’t have to call me Ma’am.” 
“Just being polite. Ma’am.” He took the glass to his lips, mindful to take only a small sip instead of downing it in desperation. Another adjustment to make when food was no longer a scarcity. Sweet, sour, and salty danced on his tongue before it glided down his throat. Just a sip refreshed him. And the sight of a nice girl didn’t hurt the cause either. 
It’d been so long since he had a nice refreshing glass of lemonade. Summers meant worse infestations of infected, not the barbecues, lemonades, and swimming of past. When surviving each hour was under threat, small luxuries like this became out of reach of even one’s dreams.
“Well, guess I should call you Sir then,” you said, leaning against the wall. You held the pitcher up to your chest and the tails of the ribbon on your chest dipped into it, the soft shiny yellow turning dark, tainted.
His mouth watered and fucking hell, it wasn’t the lemonade you just gave him. He took a sip of the drink and licked his lips, imagining how you’d taste if he wrapped his large hand around your neck and pressed his chapped lips to your plush ones. Better yet, if he held your legs apart and devoured you other pair of lips until you were leaking down his mouth. Would you call him Sir then? His cock twitched in his jeans as he pictured you bent over one of these pews, your skirt pushed up and his hand in your hair as he slid his cock in your hole. 
Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck was wrong with him? 
“Made the lemonade yourself?” He asked,  groaning as he managed to get himself back up on his feet. His knees creaked like the floorboards of the houses he renovated, but ultimately supported him as he stood. He towered over you, making you appear smaller, more fragile. 
“Depends. Do you like it?” 
“It’s wonderful, of course. Hot summer day like this…I really needed it,” he said, raising the glass up a little before taking another sip. 
“Well then yes, I did make it.”
He chuckled, feeling himself pulled in by your easy charisma. It was nice to have normal conversations like this once again. No agenda, no need for establishing himself as someone who wouldn’t hesitate to beat someone up if even mildly threatened. It was just…normal. 
“It’s very sweet, Ma’am. Like you I assume,” he added, mentally dusting off the part of his brain where he stored skills for conversing with pretty girls.
You laughed, holding your free hand up to your mouth to cover your lips that widened and revealed your teeth. 
“Is that the southern charm that I hear our townspeople talk about?” 
“They talk about my charm? I didn’t hear.” 
“Oh yes, they do… Joel Miller, charming pants off of everyone in town.”
“Pants? Well that’s disappointing. I was hoping I’d charmed some pretty skirts off.” 
“Lots of experience with that, Mister Miller?” you asked, sliding your hand over the soft fabric of the skirt of your dress. Such delicate fabric. He could fist the hem and give it one tug and it’d rip right off.
“More ‘n what you got for sure,” he said, loath to hint at how infrequent his encounters had become in the recent past. Tess died, he did a cross country hike with an annoying kid, he needed to maintain a good reputation in his new town. One buried after the other. Enough to leave a man with nothing but his fist and his imagination. He would kill for a fucking Playboy magazine. Literally. He’d killed for less.
“What do you know about how experienced I am?” 
“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.” 
“Oh well. Nothing I can’t learn.” 
He laughed nervously and stuck his hand in his jeans pocket. Surely you couldn’t be flirting… Why would a young thing like this flirt with him? He was in his late fifties looking like mid sixties and you were… He didn’t know. Young.
“If you could teach me, Mister Miller. Give a girl some experience?”
“I’m sure you can find someone else.” 
“Oh. Not your type, am I?” you asked, and he deluded himself thinking you sounded disappointed. No chance. 
He didn’t have a type. Long time since he thought of frivolous shit like that. But you shouldn’t be his type. 
“There’s much more eligible men in town is what I’m saying,” he said, suddenly hesitant to lie. Lying had never been an issue for him. The right thing was to lie, say you weren’t his type so he wouldn’t cross lines. It’d been a long time since he did the right thing.
“I’ll be the decider of that,” you said with a shrug of your shoulder before taking the empty glass from him. “Have a good rest of the work day, Mister Miller.”
Later that night, he wrapped his fist around his cock in the privacy of his room. His mind flooded with images of you spread out for him, sweet lips and a sweeter pussy milking him. He couldn’t even recall the last time he was with a woman. It was Tess, of course. Sometime before she got thrown in FEDRA jail for the last time. Too fucking long ago.
Surely it was only because it’d been a long time since he got his dick wet. He’d never, in his entire life, pictured a woman so much younger spreading her legs for him. Sucking his cock. Crying out his name. How old was she even? Not past mid twenties for sure.
It was wrong, he knew, as white hot spend spurted out of his cock and covered his hand. A sour tang took over his mouth as the fog of unadulterated lust cleared up to reveal the ugliness in his head. He shuddered, feeling like something had crawled under his flesh. He hadn’t felt guilt like this in so long. 
Wrong, wrong, wrong. 
You weren’t even as old as his kid would be had she been alive. 
He’d known men like that back in the day. Grays in their hair and skin like old leather, but pretty young things old enough to be their daughter hanging off their arm. It was obvious that none of them kept these girls around for love or for their personality. It was always sex and the feeling of self-importance when a sweet young thing paid attention to balding heads, beer bellies and limp dicks that needed a blue pill to get up. 
Fucking disgusting. 
He began avoiding you whenever you happened to be in the same space. At the house of worship, the town clinic where you interned, trading days when people exchanged what they had for what they wanted. His eyes never met yours and he always quickly looked away when they stared too long at your uh…feminine features– pretty legs, cute ass, round tits. Where the fuck did you get sundresses anyway? Who kept that shit around in this world? 
He didn’t know that when he avoided you, you took note of him. When he took glances of your features, you memorized his for later in the night when you buried your head in your pillow and pushed your fingers inside your pussy to simulate what it must be like to be with a man. 
He was older. That much you knew from his grey hair, sun-damaged skin, and gait that exuded bone-deep weariness. You knew Tommy had just turned fifty. Hard to miss occasions that meant a free slice of cake from the canteen. Joel had to be in his mid-fifties at the very least. At first glance, he wasn’t what you’d consider handsome. There were younger men in town. Fit and muscular. Didn’t groan and scrunch up their faces when they got up. Didn’t have lines on their foreheads. No bags under their eyes. 
Yet there was something about Joel that was more entrancing. 
After your first meeting when you offered him lemonade, you made sure to visit under the guise of worship. You didn’t know much about religion and were conflicted about embracing a god. The only faith you had rested in your medical instruments and the medicines the town’s chemist concocted. But it was a nice place to meet people, to check on healing patients.
The visits were worth it for a glimpse of Joel’s large hands wrapped around his carpentry tools. When the sun was the hottest, he sometimes stripped down to his tank top, giving you a show better than any film played in the community theater. His broad back looked masculine enough in his flannel shirts. But you didn’t know desire like the first time you saw him in a white tank, showing off his muscular arms as sweat dripped down his tan skin.
When you pleasured yourself in your room, it took time, imagination, your fingers, and a lot of effort to make slick pool in your pussy. That day, all it took was the sight of Joel Miller working. You sat with your thighs pressed together, rubbing them against each other in the most inconspicuous little movements. 
Could it be blasphemy if the God who was supposedly orchestrating everything made this man take his shirt off in front of you?
It made no fucking sense. Joel was old. He looked like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed every goddamn day. He had been chewed up and spat out by whatever the fuck was outside Jackson these days. Hardened expressions, graying patchy beard, hands calloused from carpentry and decades of using weaponry. Features that only indicated a long life lived, not attractiveness.
You were supposed to be attracted to the soft, sweet ones like the guys in the worn out copies of romance stories that the previous inhabitant of your house stashed in the basement. Even his little brother would be a more reasonable target for your lust. Younger, taller, softer, head full of dark, silky hair with few grays. But you wanted Joel Miller with his rough graying beard that would prick your skin were you to cup his cheek like the women on the novel covers. 
Something about him just screamed Man. Something that none of the other guys in town had. There was nothing wrong with any of the other Jackson men, but none of them made you want to take the plunge and lose your virginity. It wasn’t the lack of offers, per se. You’d gotten looks from many eligible Jackson bachelors. You had drinks with a few of them. Dinner with fewer and shared a kiss with more than one. Alright, two. But anything beyond that had you trembling in anxiety. 
It wasn’t anything precious to you, virginity. But you’d waited so long. Focused so long only on survival and then helping to build this town and now training to become a doctor. Whatever passed for doctor these days. With all your life dedicated to everything but your love life, you simply had no experience. What if you messed up and they laughed? You knew anatomy, but that didn’t translate to practical stuff. What if you couldn’t make them feel good? You’d have to see the guy all the damn time in the small town. There would be no escaping the awkwardness.
Sure it was counterintuitive to keep pushing away sexual encounters because you had no experience. But you didn’t know what else to do. You were too old already to not have done anything. But each day that passed with you rejecting perfectly nice men meant you were getting even older for your first time. 
You didn’t know where Joel fit into your need for exploring your sexuality, but it didn’t hurt to stare. God knew everyone else in Jackson did. 
So you stared. Work with his carpentry tools. Riding on horseback into Jackson after patrol. Helping with the fucking sheep. Walking around with Tommy. Carrying his nephew around town. It should be inappropriate to be fantasizing about a man when he was doing something as innocent as carrying a baby. But seeing his large hand cradling the baby’s little head made you want to scream into your pillow and kick your legs. 
“You alright, sweetheart?” 
Your heart fluttered and you let out a nervous laugh at being caught. You smoothed out the wrinkles on your clothes just to make it look like you were alright. Unfortunately you were wearing a pair of fucking jeans. You didn’t even want to know how awkward you looked. 
“‘m alright, Mister Miller.” 
“Joel’s fine,” he said, rocking his nephew in his arms.
Oh fuck, his fucking arms!
“Oh I don’t know,” you said, fidgeting with a belt loop on your jeans. “Wouldn’t want to be impolite addressing you by your first name like that.”
He smiled, recalling your conversation from the house of worship when you called him Sir and had him fucking himself in the shower to the memory. “Ah. ‘cause I’m an old man,” he said, more as a reminder to himself to fucking behave. 
“You’re not that old…” you trailed, looking him over in a way that set fire to every inch of skin that you laid eyes on.
Behave, Miller. You’re out with your nephew. 
“That so?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 
“Mhmm. You don’t look a day over seventy.” 
He snorted, making Miles stir in his arms just a little. That stung a little. It shouldn’t. Your estimation of his age, whether you were serious or not, was reminder enough that he was too old to be lusting after you.
“Thanks. I’m actually eighty-two.” 
You giggled your pretty little giggle, lowering your gaze to the ground and looking back up only when it had turned into a wide grin. “How old are you actually?”
“Old. Fifty six.” 
“Fifty-six isn’t that old…” you trailed as you brought a hand up to his bicep. Joel gulped, praying to the non-existent God that you would stop before praying to the same God that you would keep your hand right there. God answered his second prayer. You squeezed, licked your lips and looked up at him with your doe eyes.
“Checking if the hardware is still working, Doctor?” 
“I’m not a doctor yet.” 
“When do you become one then? Ain’t no Harvard handing out medical degrees in this town.”
“Howard?” you asked, squinting at him. Ah, of course you didn’t know. Harvard didn’t mean the same thing to you. Now it was just like every other building in Boston. Run over by infected. These ones were just the nerdy kind with glasses on.
“That was a thing, too. But I said Harvard. They were big universities back then.”
“Ah. Did you go there?” You asked, with no malice or bite. Oh, bless your heart. No one expected a dummy like him to have gone to university at all, much less Harvard. No one in his family had gone. Sarah was meant to be the first.
“Yeah. Traded some oxy and threw molotovs at clickers in the campus.” 
You rewarded him with a giggle and that was incentive enough for him to keep going. “Guys like me didn’t get into Harvard. Or Howard. Didn’t even go to community college. I finished high school and got a job in construction.” 
“You didn’t go to uh…construction college?” You asked, cocking your head and raising an eyebrow as though testing out the term.
“No such thing. Well, there were civil engineering programs, but I just learned on the job.” 
“Like me.” 
“Guess so. I see you reading from all those fat medical books. But there’s no need to study any books in construction. ‘cept if you wanna be an engineer or architect or something, which I’m not.” 
“Maybe you should write one. We could all do with some knowledge from before. It’s important to document it, pass it on to Ellie and little Miles over there.” 
“I ain’t writing books, sweetheart. Don’t think I even remember how to write much. I’ll just keep to fixing things up in this town. So, if you need some help with your place…I’m happy to help.” It was the least he could do. Maybe as some kind of penance for having impure thoughts about you. Or as a fucked up trade for starring in the mental images he conjured to jack off in the shower.
“There is something, actually. But I don’t have anything to trade for, so I’ll wait until I do,” you said, clasping your hands behind your back and swaying in place in an endearing manner.
“Nonsense. You patched me up just last week. You’ve done enough for the town’s health to not have to trade for anything ever again.” 
“Well, no. That’s not how it should be… It’s people’s health. Can’t put a price on that.”
“Believe it or not, health had a steep price back in the day. Cost four thousand something just to give birth. Double that if they had to cut you open.” And that was just how much it cost when Sarah was born. He was sure it had only gone up by 2003. If he hadn’t worked his ass off, there was no way he could’ve escaped debt. It helped that his Ma and his then wife’s parents helped with childcare. Would’ve been even more expensive without that.
“Damn. I don’t know how much that is, since…y’know we don’t have money now. But that sounds like a big number. It shouldn’t cost anything just to be born.” 
“Tell me about it,” he said, shaking his head. “But listen. Anything you want fixed, I’ll help out. You can give me something later if you’re worried. I know Ellie’s always on the look for new books to read and you seem to have a lot of them.” 
“Nothing Ellie would like. Not like the special limited edition of Savage Starlight or anything. Just medical textbooks and romance novels.” 
“We could trade for the lemonade from that afternoon,” he insisted, desperate to do something for you. Take care of you as you took care of everyone who walked into the clinic be it papercuts or a fucking knife in their abdomen. 
“Alright. Trade for the lemonade it is then,” you said, giving in to his pressure.
“Now tell me. What d’ya need fixed?” 
⌘⌘⌘
It had been a few days since Joel promised to fix your shower for you. Each time he came by and rang your doorbell, you hid somewhere away from your windows. When he caught sight of you in public, you quickly walked away or engaged in conversation with someone else. You didn’t need shit fixed. Everything in your house was perfectly alright. Tommy and his guys had given the place a complete makeover just a couple months before Joel and Ellie arrived. 
You were no paragon of honesty, but you didn’t make lying a habit. There were a few white lies here and there and this was meant to be one of them. It just didn’t fucking hit you that if you lied to a contractor that your shower was broken, he would eventually come over to fucking fix it. All your desperate sex starved brain wanted that day was for Joel Miller to come use his tools in your room and flex those muscles while at it.
So invested were you in that particular fantasy that as you unwound after a long shift at the clinic, it was with Joel’s beefy arms in mind. You stood in front of your mirror, taking in your reflection. One of the magazines you’d found in a box under your bed laid open on the dressing table. Playboy. Entertainment for Men. Each had a scantily clad woman on the cover. And many more inside. 
You made comparisons to yourself and the woman in the center page of the issue.
She stood in front of a dressing table too, but much different from how you stood. Her legs were on either side of her dressing table chair and her hands on the top of it. Between her arms were breasts, big and round and with smooth skin. They didn’t have any marks on them like yours. No moles, no stretch marks. Just plain. And she just stood there, soft brown hair down, tickling the top of her breasts and her lips parted as she gazed at you. No, at the men she was meant to entertain in this men’s entertainment magazine. All she had on was panties that went high up to her flat belly that connected to high transparent socks.
You reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, wishing that you had something nicer like the woman on the cover of another one of the magazines. Bright red and showing off her breasts wonderfully, but pulled down to reveal almost everything. What was the point of a bra then if it didn’t cover or support anything? Entertainment, you decided. Men seemed to be very entertained by breasts. 
Many a man had stared at yours even though you had them behind layers of fabric unlike the naked women of the magazines. Many had conversations with them instead of your face. Some brushed up against them ‘accidentally’. Joel thought he was being covert, but you felt his brown eyes rove all over them. You thought maybe that he too would brush up against it sometime, but he never did. Maybe entertainment stopped at just looking, as in the magazines. 
You wondered if Joel sought out men’s entertainment magazines like this. He was from before everything went to shit, so it was very possible that he did. Did he like the women in these pages, sticking their asses out and looking through the pages at him? Would he be entertained if he saw you like this? 
You didn’t know that if you turned your head to your bedroom door, you would have your answer. Joel’s cock strained against his already tight jeans as he stood awestruck by your figure. He swallowed as you held on to the top of the chair and lifted your knees, one after the other and placed them on the plush seat. You arched your back, a little too much at first before reducing the curve. Your ass stuck out enticingly and he didn’t know whether to grab, squeeze, slap, or spread your cheeks apart and fuck your ass. 
He should leave. 
It was stupid of him to walk into your house with a box of plumbing tools to fix your shower when you hadn’t yet given him a date or time for it. Plus you were avoiding him. Running away with your little friends and picking up stuff to hide your face from his view. He was plenty sure that when he’d rung your doorbell, you weren’t always away from home. 
He should leave. 
Fixing the shower could wait. He could confront you some other day. 
But you were putting on such a pretty little show in nothing but your panties and he was only a man. A bad one. 
His boots stayed put on your hardwood floors as you enjoyed yourself in front of the mirror. You spread your knees and let your fingers between your thighs, eyes closed, lips parted and low whines escaping your lips in just a few minutes. He palmed his growing erection over his jeans, consequences of being caught be damned. He was a foul beast already. What bad was another sin on the list? Besides, you were the one who’d left the fucking door open. 
Your soft whimpers grew into moans as you brought yourself closer and he forced his feet to stay put despite their urge to walk up to you and give you something to really moan about. 
“Fuu– mmm Joel, pleeease.”
He let out a gasp, all his restraint flying out the window as soon as he heard his name from your lips. You couldn’t actually be doing this… There had to be another Joel in town. Younger, better looking, smarter.
Your voice grew needy and the pitch higher as you kept at it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gimme it, Sir.” 
No, it couldn’t be anyone else. 
Joel toed his boots off and took quiet steps towards you, emboldened by the filth that spilled from your lips. If this old man was what you wanted, he wouldn’t stop himself from reaping the benefits. He wasn’t a goddamn saint. Never was. 
He stopped in front of you, surprised you still hadn’t sensed his presence. As though the universe heard his thoughts, it had you open your eyes. You gasped as soon as you saw him and buckled off the chair, but Joel caught you. You shuddered, unable to cope with the sudden touch. 
“J-Joel?” 
“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, touching your cheek with the back of his hand. You whined, your body molding itself against his chest. You brought a hand to his arm, feeling the rock hard muscles underneath his sleeves and your other hand worked between your legs.  
Your fingers no longer felt adequate as you felt his large fingers on your cheek. “Want you, please,” you whined, desperate to return to the edge where you had been right before you saw him. 
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me…” he spoke dangerously, soft brown eyes clouded with a kind of desire you had longed to see in him for weeks. 
“Want you…want you to be with me,” you repeated stupidly, your desperation clouding your senses too much for you to say anything else. While in the past you only wanted to get rid of your virginity, your goals had become more specific with his arrival. You wanted him. You wanted his big hands and broad shoulders, to hold on to them as you rode him. To watch his grumpy expressions turn to ecstasy under you. 
“Tell me not to touch you,” he said, his tone low and almost threatening. Any other threat from him, you would’ve heeded. But not this one. 
“Touch me!” 
It was as though something in him snapped at your words. While darkness only loomed over him before, it now completely took over.The hand that previously only caressed your cheek now wrapped itself around your neck. Before you could completely process the move, his other hand slapped yours away. He replaced two of your puny fingers with his middle finger, eliciting a strained moan from you. 
“Touching yourself to a Playboy magazine, huh?” 
You only nodded, unable to form words now that a fantasy of yours had finally come to life.
“Dirty little thing…Thought you were a nice girl and all. Helpin’ out at the clinic, head buried in books all the time. Turns out you actually got your head in dirty magazines.” 
You whined, your pussy clenching and gushing around his finger at the way he was speaking to you. The same man who insisted on calling you Ma’am despite your protests was calling you a dirty girl now. The veil of respectability seemed to have floated away at the sight of you naked and pleasuring yourself. Had you known that this was all you needed to get Joel Miller to touch you, you would’ve done it much sooner.
He added another finger, the girth of him enough to stretch you more than you had done for yourself. You brought a hand up to his shoulder and fisted his shirt, needing something to anchor yourself to. 
“You ever been taken by a man, sweetheart?” He asked, his tone too cool and casual for what he was doing to you. You shuddered, partly from his phrasing– taken, he said. Taken. Like you were a thing. Like the women in the magazines positioned so uncomfortably just so their breasts could look a certain way for the picture. Printed on the cover page with the words Entertainment for Men written on top. You shook your head, feeling small as you confessed it for the first time. 
“Any man?” 
“N-no,” you managed to breathe out, whimpering at the way the bulge beneath his jeans twitched at your simple answer. He took a step to position himself behind you, letting you lean your back against his chest. The angle at which he touched your pussy changed, opening your world up to a wonderful new kind of pleasure. 
“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me,” he whispered in your neck, making you shiver. His thumb roamed between your legs as far as they could reach, caressed you gently, his softness with you contradicting his warning about men like him. The hand around your neck slithered down your torso, cold air forcing you to face your new desire of having your breath kept hostage. 
He took your left breast in hand, squeezing the flesh like someone starved would hold on to a piece of bread. It felt more like a punctuation to the warning he issued than a part of sex. Just then, his thumb between your legs stopped its search, stopping a little above the fingers inside you.
A moan you didn’t recognize as yours at first filled the room and you buckled forward. Blunt nails sunk into the flesh of your breast as he saved you before you could fall. He hauled you back up, making you collide against his chest. 
You gasped and quickly grabbed the hand between your legs, the sensation too intense for you to know what to do with. His thumb kept on, rolling over something there that set your person on fire. 
“Fuuuck! Joel– I– I– hnnng–”
“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned, keeping at whatever the hell he was doing to make you feel this way. 
“Please… I don’t– what was that?” 
You felt his chest rumble before you heard his laughter. Heat rose to your face and your throat felt strained though there was no hand around it anymore. 
“Never touched your clit? Do you even know what that is?” He mocked, the cruelty somehow not repelling you from him. He forced you to look up at him. Your heart lurched at how close you were to his face. You could see every gray hair, every minute blemish and line.
“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man? You don’t know what you’re handing me on a silver platter. I ain’t like the other guys in town. I walked across the fucking country and lemme tell ya, there’s no pretty things like you out there. I’m starved.” 
“Take me, then,” you begged, using his own words from earlier. “Please. Whatever you– a-aaah!” 
He ramped up the pressure on that spot– your clit– and with it, took your ability to speak coherently. It was as though he’d done it on purpose. You hated it. To be so bereft of control. To be a puppet in someone’s hand. For someone to acquaint themselves with parts of you that you didn’t know of. But it was too much to fight, so you let go. Let him play with you. Take you. Like a thing.
You renounced control of your lips too, his name slipping out effortlessly like it did when he caught you. Then you renounced what was left of your dignity and began begging relentlessly. For what, you didn’t know. In his hand, you’d gone from woman to pupper, your strings pulled by a man, your voice now his. Sounds that would be indiscernible from that of a wounded animal emanated from somewhere deep within you. 
Perhaps none of this was real. Why else did your own voice grow so distant from you? Why did your vision become blurry? Your thighs shook uncontrollably and your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. Your eyes clenched shut, depriving you of your blurred vision. Your toes curled. You wanted to shrink into yourself, shrink away from all this goodness. You went higher and higher, soaring like a bird. Every nerve ending in your body felt electrified, awoken like one switch turned on every light on last winter’s Christmas tree. 
You let out a loud cry, the soaring bird in you reaching its peak before beginning its fall to the ground. You could hear your breaths again, labored but doing everything to stabilize itself. Your thighs still shook. Your chest rose and fell. A hand caressed your hand. Behind you, something strong supported your back. Kept you from falling backward. 
“Joel…” 
“I know, I know…” he whispered into your head. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, surprised to see a softer visage. He picked you up off the chair like you’d seen him lift giant logs before. With ease. You didn’t protest as he carried you. Didn’t protest when he laid you out on your bed. 
He bent down and picked something up. No questions, no instructions. He simply spread your leg away from the other. Cold air touched the gushing mess dripping out of you and you shivered, feeling a sudden need to cover yourself but unable to defy him. His hand was on your pussy again. His hardened, calloused fingers behind a soft fabric this time. He wiped upwards, collecting the mess he made out of you. When he lifted the fabric up, you realized it was your panties. 
He tucked it into the pocket of his jeans and then looked back at your face, the intensity of his gaze making you want to run. Problem was your weak legs wouldn’t take you anywhere. You didn’t screw your eyes shut. You didn’t pull your blanket to conceal yourself. You looked back at him, defiant. Like you were trying to prove something. I can handle a man like you. 
“Be a good girl from now.” 
That and a condescending pat on your pussy and he was gone.
Part 2
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5sospenguinqueen · 1 month
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Post Space Tension | Charles Leclerc x McLaren! Reader
Summary: Struggling with the new frame of her relationship, Y/N decides a visit to her sister is in order. Charles realises that not having you close is even worse than you beating him.
Warnings: Swearing. Female reader. Verstappen! Reader.
I know you guys wanted angst but the doe eyes got to me.
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 4
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YourUserName a lovely visit with my favourite sibling @ victoriaverstappen, and an even lovelier surprise (p.s. Max already knew so no, I'm not spoiling it for him)
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User 1 charles in the likes but not in the comments
maxverstappen1 stop trying to get our nephews to like you more than me
→ YourUserName they already do (even the unborn one)
maxverstappen1 also, how am i not the favourite sibling. i listen to all your boy troubles
→ User 2 boy troubles!!!
→ User 3 all??? how many boys are there 😒
landonorris can't believe you had lunch without me
→ georgerussell63 really don't help yourself, mate
lance_stroll not the burger a week before a race
→ YourUserName don't tell my trainer
→ lance_stroll too late
mclaren future papaya racer
→ maxverstappen1 no.
User 4 so, are you and charles still together? the world is dying to know if he was caught cheating or not
→ User 5 apparently they're still together but taking time apart
→ User 6 source: trust me bro
victoriaverstappen we loved seeing you but he keeps asking for uncy sha so maybe bring a visitor next time?? 🤍
liked by charles_leclerc
→ YourUserName can't believe i'm not enough :( but at least i'm introducing him to disappointment early on
→ User 7 not her sister spilling the tea
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User 8 so, does this mean LeStappen are back in the same country?
User 9 how's he going to keep his distance when they're on the same track
User 10 i feel tension brewing
User 11 anyone see arthur's latest tweet?
→ User 9 no why?
→ User 11 he posted that pic of charles and that woman but from another angle. arthur was with them that day and it looks like arthur's holding the woman's hand?
→ User 8 so charles wasn't on a date with that woman?!?! chay/n shippers rise!
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by lilymhe, alex_albon and others
YourUserName 'cause i'm back in the saddle again tagged: landonorris, danielricciardo
6,456 comments
danielricciardo alternate caption was 'me and pookies' but lando and i talked her down from that
→ landonorris you're just jealous that i'm pookie #1
landonorris 🔥🔥
redbullracing we still think you'd look better in navy
→ mclaren back, back, i say 🤺
→ scuderiaferrari please, we all know red is her colour
liked by charles_leclerc
→ User 12 we see you charles
landonorris @ redbullracing stop trying to steal my teammate
→ arthur_leclerc stop trying to steal my brother's girlfriend
(comment deleted)
→ User 13 we saw that, arthur
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skysportsf1 just posted
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liked by YourUserName, maxverstappen1 and others
skysportsf1 read the latest interview from the Verstappen twins, and how racing helped strengthen their bond
tagged: YourUserName, maxverstappen1
7,905 comments
f1 our favourite twins
YourUserName wow, we look good. thanks for having us, it was so nice to be able to hype each other up and get paid for it
maxverstappen1 can't believe they left out the part where i said i only like you because i beat you
→ YourUserName because you told them not to? stop trying to make out like you hate me so people think you're tough. everyone saw you cry when i won
danielricciardo alternate caption was 'join us as we chat with racer, y/n verstappen and her lesser-known brother, max'
→ YourUserName he threatened to sue if they used that title
→ maxverstappen1 i hate you both
lance_stroll only read for y/n
alex_albon love how they tried to make max sound good at padel
georgerussell63 does anyone know who either of these people are? it's amazing who they class as celebrities these days
User 13 living for the grid picking on them (max)
mclaren going to need these pics blown up and hung in my living room
→ charles_leclerc agreed
→ redbullracing charles is all of us
User 14 not charles trying to hide in the comments
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Part 4 will be the final part. Thank you for coming on the journey of self-indulgent fics x
Tag list: @mehrmonga @luvsforme @lemon-lav @missenclod @halleest @formula1mount @k4marina @evie-119 @letmeseeyougotowork @sleepybrokenmelle @eiaaasamantha @tinyhrry @janeholt3 @allywthsr @callsignwidow @raizelchrysanderoctavius @prudyhoo @valentinanappipage @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @delululeclerc @e-nonsense @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @thecubanator2 @butterfliesflyaroundmymind @kqliie @sweate-r-weathe-r @lifeless-firefly @woozarts @silverxxs-world @personwhoisther @eugene-emt-roe @anthonykatebridgerton @entr4p3 @carpediem241108 @forevercaffeinated-lee @youre-on-your-ownkid @xyzstar
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kisses4kaia · 3 months
Text
mdni. 18+ content. another installment of this au.
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college!luke castellan doesn’t care about hickies.
of course, his frat brothers tease them relentlessly, but he does nothing to rebate the suggestions from most that they were from you. it wasn’t any secret that you and him had been fucking—casually, of course, he didn’t have time for relationships—for some time now, but it always left you a little jarred when he would be so open to the display of red bites left splayed on his neck.
“won’t they see?” you ask a bit dumbly after luke asks you to mark him through passionate kisses. rudely—your friends thought—he’d pulled you away from the dining hall with no explanation other than ‘needing you’.
“what?” he says, slightly breathless from kissing. the question had taken him aback because, had he not made it clear by now?
“won’t your friends see the… you know?” the sheepish tone in your voice elicits a deep chuckle from luke before he presses his lips against your neck, not hard enough to create hickies just yet, but not exactly gently either. “you want the truth, princess?” your eyebrows furrow a little dumbly but you nod with curiosity. “i think you love seeing ‘em on me, and you love when people know they’re from you,” he says. “and you know i don’t care if anyone sees. i know you know me better than that, don’t you, baby?” luke’s timbre is so low, so arousing and you can hardly keep the needy whimper in.
you just nod, no more doubt within you as you trail kisses down his scar, to his jaw, down to his neck and collarbone. the satisfied groans you elicit from him as you find that spot on his throat sends you in a daze almost immediately. his lips catch yours again before he flips the both of you over, settling on his knees in front of you.
luke’s mouth is everywhere, nibbing at the surface of your skin, laving his tongue over the fresh ache. his strong hands pulling your shorts and panties down in one go. “gonna mark you here,” he says, catching the plush flesh of your inner thigh between his teeth, sucking on the area and conjuring a livid stain on your skin.
he forges more and more red marks onto your skin before he finally puts his mouth on your neediest place. luke’s suctions his lips around your clit, forcing a choked gasp from you and a hand flying down onto his head. he groans against you as your back arches and your fingers tangle in his hair, tightening and tugging. he works hard, like he’s being paid to eat you out, but really, he knows he would pay to die between your thighs.
just as luke’s tongue pushes it’s way into your sopping hole, you feel that blissfully hot, white, sensation swim over and past you. your thighs are most likely suffocating luke, but he doesn’t seem to mind, or even notice really.
his tongue fucks you through your orgasm, and upon coming down from your high, luke’s head rises from your middle.
“we’re still casual, though?”
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zephyrchama · 25 days
Text
“Don’t,” you warned Lucifer. You saw that self-assured grin on his face. You knew what he was planning.
“What? I just came to see what you were doing.” He leaned on your shoulder with enough weight to tilt you several inches sideways, no matter how much you pushed back. “Don’t mind me, carry on.”
“Don’t you have more important things to do?” you retorted, but it was too late. The others were catching on.
“Hey, hey! What’s going on?” Mammon came over and pushed against your other shoulder, tilting you back upright. “What are two of my favorite people doin’?”
You tried to shrug them both off, to no avail. “We’re not doing anything. We can stop this.”
You couldn’t stop it. Asmodeus was on his way and wasted no time crossing his arms over your back, happily leaning into you from behind. You tilted forward. “Hey! What’s happening here?”
You sighed, “we’re not doing this again.”
Asmodeus teased you with honeyed innocence, “doing what, hon? Something on your mind?”
These three demons thought they were so funny.
A passing Satan made eye contact with you. In that exact moment, you used every bit of imaginary telepathy you could muster. Surely Satan would understand. He could save you. He could free you before it really was too late.
He observed what his brothers were doing, nodded, and approached with a congenial grin. Mission failed.
“Traitor!” You regretted ever agreeing to join this exchange program as Satan slowly fell back into you. You didn’t even try to catch him, you were too busy trying to remain upright under the combined weight of four demons. They were hardly even holding back.
You couldn’t see who was running up, being too busy blowing Satan’s blonde hair out of your face, but at this point it didn’t matter. They were all coming for you.
“Let me in on this!” Leviathan said cheerily.
“Yeah!” “Come on!” Asmodeus and Mammon gladly made some room for Leviathan, which was difficult because you were sinking lower and lower, and you felt another weight pile onto your back as Levi cozied up to your torso. This scenario had played out enough times now that the brothers could somehow keep you from falling over like a Jenga tower, but it was still only a matter of time.
Belphegor squeezed his way in between Satan and Lucifer and wordlessly collapsed onto you as if overcome with narcolepsy. He sure looked cozy. He smirked while you lamented, “I’m never forgiving any of you, ever.”
“Beel? Are you coming?” Lucifer summoned the cherry on top of this ridiculous parfait. You braced as Beelzebub licked the crumbs off his fingers in preparation. He knew what had to be done.
“Are you ready?” At least he had the decency to ask, unlike six other degenerates. The six lumps of dead weight each grabbed a part of your body, shifting from leans to awkward hugs. There was no way to run.
With an exaggerated “hah!”, Beelzebub’s weight and outstretched arms were enough to send everyone crashing down. You were protected from any real damage by the shell of demon brothers, but they soon had you pinned down against someone’s chest in the world’s most embarrassing cuddle pile.
“Aren’t you guys too old for this?” you asked. “By like, ten thousand years?”
“We were just checking up on you,” Lucifer said.
“Yeah, how did this happen? Hmm..!” Asmodeus’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
Satan draped his leg over yours and not-so-accidentally kicked Lucifer. “You should have told us what you were doing.”
“I think it’s fun.” Belphegor was the only one to admit the truth.
Hands were running through your hair and over your stomach. Somebody was pushing the edge of your mouth up into a smile with their finger. If these guy were so touch-starved, they could have just said so, like sane people.
“My! What do we have here?”
You groaned, partially because everybody was really heavy and partially because you really didn’t need Diavolo to arrive just then.
“My lord, it appears we have walked in on something quite interesting.” Et tu, Barbatos?
”Indeed! Is there room for two more?”
Your “no!” was drowned out by seven resounding yeses.
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vroomvroomwee · 10 months
Text
Crowley is Lucifer
(Ok I know some of you don't believe this theory but I highly suggest you give this a quick read anyway. I tried to make it short and easy and I'll be going chronologically, from s1 all through s2)
- First, let's get this out of the way, Lucifer and Satan aren't neccesarilly the same person. Even in the show the devil that appeared in s1 has only ever been reffered to as Satan, not even once as Lucifer.
- In the bible Lucifer was the one to tempt Eve with the apple, and who do we know that does that in the show. Crowley is literally THE snake from Eden.
- An obvious one perhaps, but the red hair is also a giveaway
- In the bible Jesus was tempted by the devil for 30 days, in the show Crowley says "I showed him all the kingdoms of the world", so that's another role Lucifer has that Crowley had in the show
- It's well known (even mentioned in the Sandman) that Lucifer was the most beautiful of all angels, and our demon is played by no other than David Tennant
Now on to season 2 because there's a LOT to unpack here
- He litterally started the engine of the universe which was one of Lucifers roles
- He's the first to say "let there be light", which is pretty fucking huge since that is Gods line
- "I worked closely with upstairs on it" even in the first scene they're telling us Crowley is an angel of very very high rank
- He fell for asking questions, which is litterally what Lucifer fell for, for questioning God. This in and of itself should be a pretty big indicator. "I only ever asked questions"
- Shax: "a miracle of enourmous power only the mightiest of archangels can perform"
Crowley: "How do you know I didn't do it"
And Shax just... doesn't counter that. She looks even skeptical, as if it COULD be a possibility, unlike Uriel who says to Aziraphale don't excpect us to believe you did it. Shax litterally doesn't shut the option down which confirms Crowley has the power not only of an archangel but of the mightiest kind
- In the bookshop with Gabriel/Jim he says "I don't remember. It [gravity] seemed like a good idea when we were all talking about it"
- "You're welcome to come in, you might even spot an archangel" don't tell me this was Crowley just egging Shax on and not being sneaky
- The fact that he could sense the demons coming. "Somethings wrong""It's coming in waves", when Aziraphale couldn't. It could be a demon thing but we saw Sandalphon, an archangel of lower rank, in the first season mention "something smells evil" so obviously angels can sense demons too, they just have to be powerful enough. And keep in mind Sandalphon was already in the book shop for quite some time, Crowley sensed them even before they had arrived (he also sensed the hell hound who was some fucking miles away)
- The.fucking.folder. "You have to be a throne or dominion above" and this dude opens these clasified documents like it's nothing. If this isn't an indicator of his high position as an angel I don't know what is.
- He's worked with Saraqael, another very high ranking angel
- "I'm the only first order archangel in the room"... and the camera imediately pans to Crowley, and for anyone who's read the book and watched the show you know that rarely anything is coincidental
- When the Metatron says they can't lose another prince of heaven. This... this fucking line. So it's relatively well known that Gabriel and Lucifer are brothers, and if Gabriel is one of the princes of heaven I wonder who the other one could be. "Two princes of heaven". And the Metatrons words were very careful, he doesn't say lost as in heaven can't find him, he says it in the context that they won't be sending Gabriel to hell since they won't lose another prince to downstairs
- In the bookshop when no one can identify the Metatron he turns to Crowley who imediately recognises him. Now you have this dude, who's literally on top of the angel hierarchy and is responsible for running heaven and the connection to God themself, surrounded by archangels and a principality you spoke to face to face with just a few years ago and... none of them can tell who you are, the only one who does is the literal demon. That tells us that Crowley has not only seen him in this form, but has probably worked with the Metaron himself personally. "Always asking damn fool questions", 10 million angels and he remembers what this one particular angel was like 6000 years ago
- Crowley is also very reluctant to reveal his identity as an angel. Now if he were just an ordinary angel of no real significance he wouldn't have a problem revealing his name, but... if his name was one that's the literal representation of all evil in this world, then it is understandable he keeps it a secret, in fear he might scare Aziraphale away
- And I wanted to leave the best for last. So you remember in the book when Crowley has to sign his name to start Armaggedon, and Hastur tells him "no, your real name" after which he reluctantly writes it. Now in the book we never see him write anything, but in the show we see him write a sygil, something that looks very mich like an L. An L... A FUCKING L. And now I wonder how this theory didn't come up sooner.
(Also he can fucking stop time, like dafuq)
Edit:
- "Oh looky here it's Lucifer and the guys" we all thought he was talking about someone else, he's just refferencing things other angels have said about HIM. FUCK
- I keep seing people saying Crowleys memories were wiped because he couldn't remember Saraqael and Furfur. But I think people forget, demons lie. He's lying to make them think he's not that angel they worked with, that he's not Lucifer. (In season 1 we hear him a few times refferencing his life as an angel, so he does remember most of it)
- Also saying if the Raphael theory were true then as showrunners they would have mentioned him somewhere for those not that familiar with the bible (or don't read much fanfiction). The refferences for Crowleys past are so so vague that it would be too sudden and confusing if he were Raphael. But there is one name that everyone is familiar with, no matter who you are how old you are or where you're from, a name that needs no introduction.
Edit 2:
- Back to him being the most beautiful angel, I don't think it was ever quite explained how every single demon when they're in hell looks... awful, but Crowley doesn't. Beelzebub has the spores all over their face, Hastur the maggots and the sh-, Dagon the scales etc. But Crowley doesn't, not even when he's in hell, he's always just so, well, pretty.
- I saw a few people asking about how Lucifer started the rebellion and Crowley wouldn't do that. I think it's the same Crowley who wouldn't get stuck in traffic after creating the M25, or the same Crowley that wanted to call Aziraphale after bringing down the entire London network, "you told them you invented the spanish inquisition, and started the second world war""so the humans beat me to it that's not my fault", "so all this is your demonic work?""no, the humans thought it up themselves nothing to do with me"
- Also I think Satan's in charge of hell not Crowley the same way the Metatron's in charge of heaven and not Gabriel (and who can very easily demote angels if he so wishes)
Edit 3:
- like some of you pointed out Lucifer is also known/means Light-bringer. And Crowley was the first to say "let there be light."
- The file he opens with Muriel is Gabriels file, a class A archangel, so if he knows the password to that it means that either he's on the same level as Gabriel, or above him.
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mammonsrockstargf · 2 months
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It starts small. You honestly don't think much of it. Crows begin leaving you gifts in your window frame. It's pretty rocks. It's a small screw. It's coins and grimm, it's a button from a shirt, it's shiny beads.
You bring it up to Mammon randomly one day. He stares at you wide-eyed. "What, you mean crowns leave ya gifts? Sound ridiculous," he says and you shrug.
"I mean, I've heard about crows leaving gifts for humans before. It's not that unusual, but usually, the humans give something to the crows in return," you say, thinking aloud. "That's the part that confuses me. I haven't given anything to the crows, so why do they like me so much?" Mammon's cheeks are bright red by now, the blush going all the way down his neck. Your brows furrow with concern.
"Hey, are you okay?" you ask and he nods quickly. "Yeah, 'm fine, gotta-go-see-ya! " he stutters and quickly leaves you, practically running away. You look after him in confusion. Weren't you both just supposed to be headed home?
The gifts continue. You get a single earring. At one point you get a small bone and at another time you get a tooth which leaves you a bit unsettled but also intrigued. You treasure every single gift, keeping it in a small box by your desk. You begin to leave the crows gifts in return. You find that they like peanuts and berries. One time you experimentally leave a big piece of watermelon, only to find it devoured within minutes.
The next day there's a pretty locket with what looks like a flower engraved in it. You gape at the locket and instantly put it on, proudly wearing it around your neck. You make sure to leave the crows a feast that day.
Satan is the first brother to notice it when it slips out from the collar of your uniform one day. "Is that new?" he asks. "Oh yeah, I've befriended a bunch of crows." Satan stops in his tracks and stares at you.
"You've befriended crows?" He repeats and you nod. "Yes. Why is everyone so weird about this?" A knowing smile creeps onto his face and he shakes his head.
"Why do you think the crows like you so much?" he asks. You hum, considering it for a second. Eventually, you have to draw a blank and look at Satan in defeat. His smile only grows wider.
"Ask Mammon. He might know."
You find Mammon in his room, lying in his bed. He smiles when he sees you and pats the bed, motioning you to come over. "Come here," he says and you do, lying down next to him. He huffs and pulls at you so you're lying on his chest. You can feel his heart beating and you look up at him through your lashes.
"Hey, Mamms," you say and he runs his hand down your back, rubbing circles into it. "Hey, treasure," he says and grins.
"Satan says you might know the cause of my new friendships." His cheeks turn crimson in an instant and he lets out something akin to a nervous laugh. "Oh, the crows, you mean?" you huff and playfully roll your eyes. "Come on, big guy, spill the beans," you say and Mammon sighs.
"So, the crows like you, because, well, I told them about you," he says and a grin spreads across your face. "Go on," you say.
"Okay, I have crow familiars, you know what a familiar is, right?" he says and looks at you expectantly. You rake your brain, remembering briefly having about it in one of your classes. "Yeah, it's like witches with black cats, right?" you say and Mammon hums.
"Yeah, kind of, but anyone can have a familiar and it can be any animal. The whole black cat thing is just something the catholic church made up." You nod in understanding while Mammon continues to rub patterns into your back. The beating of his heart seems to have become louder underneath you. "So what you're saying is you can't shut up about how awesome I am and now a bunch of crows are obsessed with me?" you say and Mammon hides his face in his hands. You giggle and pry his hands away, smiling at him adoringly.
"Please don't make fun of me," he huffs and you pout at his antics. "I could never tease my lovely little bird boy," you coo and Mammon groans while pushing you off him. He turns his back to you and you laugh manically. "Come on, Mamms, It's cute," you say and press soft kisses to the nape of his neck. "you're cute," you say and throw an arm and a leg over him, attempting to spoon him. You feel him instantly melting to your touch, completely unable to keep his resolve. It's almost too easy when he turns around again to face you. You smile at his pink face.
"I really like the gifts the crows gave me," you reassure him because you genuinely do. It's become something you look forward to when you open your window.
"You do?"
"Yeah, absolutely," you affirm and he smiles sheepishly. "I once tried to train them to steal money for me, but it didn't work."
part two
a/n: thanks for reading! find my other stuff here <3
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jaylaxies · 8 months
Text
THE ONLY EXCEPTION
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PAIRING: haechan × fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, brother’s best friend trope, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cunnilingus, penetration, breeding, usage of nicknames, themes of jealousy, mentions of mark (brother) and other dreamies, mentions of yunjin from le sserafim, Imk if i missed anything!
WORD COUNT: 10k words
SYNOPSIS: mark was an overprotective brother and he didn’t fail to show it, warning all the guys to stay away from you, his best friends were no exception. so, how will you make it work when you return back after graduating school, only to find that your crush is paying more attention to you than ever? it most certainly doesn’t help that it’s lee donghyuck, to whom, you are strictly off limits.
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, my loves <3 i finally wrote a fic for the loml hyuckie <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33
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The music blasting from the speakers, reverberating around the room full of university students, the wretched smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes lingered in the air as your sharp eyes adorned with perfectly winged liner focused around the room, greeting everyone who was shocked to find you at the party. 
It felt good to be back. 
Leaving for a boarding school wasn’t on your bucket list, yet it was an opportunity you couldn’t miss, the school being a prestigious one with a degree that would only be helpful in the future, which left you no choice but to disappear for three years, only to suddenly reappear today, straight making an appearance at the party. 
“Told you, your celebrity status is still intact,” Yunjin winked at you, her being the only friend who was stubborn enough to not break contact with you, and you loved her for the same. 
Raising your brow at her, you took another swing of beer which you had loosely gripped in your hand, “it’s not mine, it all belongs to my brother,” you said, “I don’t want this attention, especially when it’s only valid because I’m Mark’s sister who had a glow up over my time of not being in the town.”
Your brother was well known in the university—the same university which you’d be attending soon along with the people who also attended the same middle school as you, however, his reputation preceded him as he, along with his friends, had turned into the group all girls desired to be with, yet they never let anyone stick around for long. 
Settling down wasn’t their forte. 
People snogging around every corner of the house wasn’t a sight you were willing to witness, granted you had a long flight and were tired. Not having any ride back home was another factor which made you approach your brother—who wasn’t locked up in a room with some girl for once. 
“I wanna go home,” you huffed, standing next to Mark, who was quick to excuse himself from the conversation he was having. 
“I can’t drive you back, I’m buzzed dude,” he says, “my baby sis is all grown up,” he looks your way, patting your head before you step back, disgusted at his overly affectionate big brother act. 
He acted as if everything was normal when in reality, he was the one who always deprived you of every single thing, not allowing you to go out, not allowing you to meet boys, and most importantly, not letting his friends interact with you.
“Ew, drink this and sober up.” You passed on the water bottle in your hand to him, “how am I supposed to go back? Should I take a cab?” 
“No, that’s not safe. You wait here, I’ll get my friend to drop you off,” he asked you to wait by the front door. 
The shock on your face was evident, yet it was better to get a ride with one of his friends rather than fending for yourself this late at night. With a nonchalant nod, you walked away, waiting by the door. 
It wasn’t hard for Mark to find his group, they were sprawled across the sofa as if they owned it, surrounded by girls sitting around them; or on their lap. 
“Who’s not drunk here?” He asked, straight up eliminating Jeno from the list, who was taking big gulps from his can, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “minus Jeno.”
Haechan was quick to ignore the girl who was leaning down to kiss him, eyes tired yet lined with the perfect amount of eyeliner—a look he went for whenever a party was concerned. 
“I am sober. Driver duties, why?” He asked. 
Even though there was nothing but truth in his words, it would be hard to accept it, provided that his eyes were the perfect shade of brown which harboured the ideal amount of brightness during the day, and just the exact amount of intoxication at night. 
“I had one beer,” Jaemin said, sitting with a bored expression on his face, probably not in the mood to entertain the girls at the given moment, unlike Jeno and Renjun, who basked in the attention of them. 
“Y/n wants to go back home,” Mark explained, grabbing another can of beer, “and I obviously can’t go to drop her off.”
“Y/n? Is she back?” Hyuck asked, playing with his silver rings before unbuttoning the top of his black button up, exposing his chain clad neck and clavicle, which was valid given how hot the room was. 
“Yeah, she came back in the afternoon today. Jaem can you drop her back home?” Jaemin chuckles at the offended look Haechan threw his way. 
“Of course man,” Jaemin agreed. 
“He’s drunk too, in case you overlooked that, I’m the sober one right now,” Hyuck said, pointing out the obvious. 
“Yeah, dude there’s no way I’m letting you go alone with my sister,” Mark laughed, “lord knows you can’t keep it in your pants,” he added. 
Hyuck was quick to raise his eyebrow, scoffing, pushing his tongue inside his cheek, “and he can?” He asked, pointing at Jaemin. 
“He knows where to draw a line, unlike you, and she’s my baby sister, I’m not risking anything,” Mark explained enthusiastically, as if it was a joke, because it caused an uproar of laughter, which only infuriated Hyuck more. 
“I know when to stop,” he said, annoyed. 
“You didn’t know that when you fucked principal’s daughter,” Jeno provided. 
“And when you did so in his office, with cameras installed,” Renjun not so helpfully added. 
Hyuck agrees that they were right to a certain extent, but their lack of trust was always something that bothered him. If there was someone who actually didn’t know where to stop, that would be them, because he did not appreciate the insults thrown his way. 
It also didn’t help how he genuinely wanted to see you, but now his mood was ruined, courtesy of Mark. 
Mark then proceeded to list out a few more things as to prove that Hyuck wasn’t fit for being anywhere close to his sister, “I don’t trust you with her,” he shrugged, asking Jaemin to drop you off and ending the conversation. 
Meanwhile, it had been a solid seven minutes and twenty six seconds since you started waiting for Mark’s friend to come and pick you up, and you made sure to put the time into good use by observing your surroundings yet again. 
In the farther right corner, you spotted your old crush, Park Sunghoon, who was in your ethics class. He never paid attention to you, granted your brother made sure to warn the whole school population that you were off limits. 
You couldn’t deny, it was good to see him happy and you swore you noticed him giggling too, talking to your old classmate, who you remember, was called Moon—one of the beauties of your school, before he pulled her into a sweet kiss. 
Your observation was cut short when one of Mark’s friends, whom you had not seen in the past three years appeared in front of you with a small smile. Na Jaemin, he was charming from the bottom to the top. 
“Welcome back, Y/n,” he smiled, voice slutry, which came naturally to him. 
You offered him a smile in return, shamelessly checking him out, he had gotten buff. You were not expecting him to come here, but then again, your subconscious wanted to see that one boy whose eyes reminded you of honey. 
You wondered how he looked now. Does he even remember you? A sigh left your glossy lips as you admitted that you still might have a teeny tiny crush on Lee Haechan after all this while, and deep inside, you wished to see him again. 
With a smile, you followed him to the car as he engaged you in a conversation. It was probably the first time he had been given the permission to interact with you, and even he couldn’t deny, he loved to see the development, the confidence that you had come back with. 
While you were getting back home, Haechan was fuming with anger, kicking the pavement as he had left the party, his mind formulating ideas for a plausible revenge against everyone. He was rebellious, he’d give himself that, yet in the depth of his heart, he meant well, not wanting to hurt anyone intentionally, only for the sake of having unharmed fun. 
It wasn’t as if his friends were any different, so why should he be the one who’s labelled to be the worst of them all? This time, he wanted to hurt someone on purpose, the someone being Mark Lee. 
Solution? Get as close to you as humanly possible—which would also mean that he’d have to work to get a place in your heart. But he didn’t mind it, especially when he had liked you all this while. 
Mark wanted him to stay away? Tough luck because Hyuck wanted you. 
Thinking about you reminded him of when you first met through Mark, he had priorly informed everyone to stay away from you, despite the fact you were in fifth grade, almost isolating you from the world. However, it wasn’t enough for Hyuck to stop greeting you with his gummy smiles, which caused you to smile back at him too. 
That’s the most exchange you guys have had over these years. Hyuck was gonna change that, and so, he found himself walking towards your house, knowing well that Mark won’t be around to stop him, and your parents would be deep asleep given that it was past midnight. 
Climbing up your room wasn’t hard, especially when he was aware of the ladder kept in your backyard, but being silent after entering your room through a window was tough. 
The lights were dim, just how you liked it when you slept. With a few steps, Hyuck reached your bed, eyes fixated on your sleeping figure. 
A small, genuine smile graced his face when he noticed the small pout on your moisturized lips. Adorable—that’s how he perceived you, yet there was no denying how much you had grown up to be prettier than ever, and he couldn’t help but caress your cheek with his thumb, even the slightest touch making you stir in your sleep, causing him to chuckle. 
He had to have you. 
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You weren’t sure if it was a dream or had Hyuck actually visited you at night, though, the latter idea seemed nothing less than a delusion. Maybe it was your brain playing tricks with you, but it wasn’t your biggest concern at the given moment as you wanted nothing more than to freshen up and eat. 
What you did not expect was to see your mom catering the four boys sprawled across your living room, the guy in your dream wasn’t anywhere to be seen still. 
“Good morning, sweetheart,” your mom sweetly pulled you in her embrace, gaining the attention of your brother and his friends, who were sitting together playing some video games. 
“Good morning, mum,” you smiled, having missed her while you were away for school. 
“Yo, I almost forgot you were back for a second,” Mark commented as your mom asked everyone to sit down. 
You looked at him with a sour expression, “yeah, right. Cause there was no one to tell you that you’re wearing two different designs of socks,” you pointed out, getting a snigger out of Jeno, who passed you a sweet smile when you looked his way, averting his gaze within a second, a habit of all his friends who weren’t allowed to stare at you. 
“Or that you’re wearing your T-shirt inside out,” you scrunch your nose as others see a very clueless Mark trying to get everything in order, your mom also amused by the sudden liveliness in the home, “no, but how are you this unaware about yourself?” You mused. 
Mark didn’t get to reply or whine when the front door opened to reveal the guy of your dreams, quite literally. 
Lee Haechan came into the room as if he owned the place, your eyes fixated on his messy hair as he said hello to your mother, who was more than happy to see him here. 
Hyuck was her favourite out of all Mark’s friends. 
Other guys were quick to apologize to Hyuck, you wondered why, and Mark had apparently apologized on text last night for crossing the line. 
He looked carefree and unbothered, so you didn’t ponder upon it much till he sat down next to you for breakfast, finally looking in your eyes. 
You blinked once, focusing on his eyes which looked like they had honey swirling around them, his skin was tanned to the prettiest shade as he passed you a small smile, “hey, Y/n,” he acknowledged your presence, lips almost upturned into what seemed to be a smirk. 
For a second, you couldn’t quite focus as you were too enthralled observing the beauty marks scattered across his face, his plump pink lips—
Yeah, that thought shook you awake, “hey, Haechan,” you greeted back, thinking that calling him Hyuck might just be too friendly. 
“So, are we on for our trip tomorrow?” Jaemin asked, cutting your interaction short. 
“Wait, what trip?” You asked, knowing that your parents were gonna be out for a business trip too, and you weren’t one to enjoy being home alone in such a big house. 
“Didn’t Mark tell you?” Your mom asked and shook your head, throwing an accusatory look his way, “They all are having a stay in at Hyuck’s beach house.”
“And me? Am I supposed to be staying alone for what—how many days?” You asked. 
“A week,” Mark informed, unaffected. 
“I’m not staying home alone for a whole week, mum, this isn’t fair.” The distress was clear on your face. 
“Call your friends over then,” your mom suggested. 
“For a week? We’d rather go out for vacation too,” you pouted, not noticing the stare of two boys. 
“Join the trip with Mark then,” she recommended, placing the fluffy pancake on your plate. 
“What? Why? No,” Mark protested and the room bursted into a web of chaos with everyone discussing it. 
Only Hyuck was silent, his eyes still on your face, admiring your side view shamelessly, but also careful not to give out his intentions in front of Mark. 
“It’s a boys trip, mom. Y’know? Boy stuff,” he winced, trying to explain without explaining that all they planned on doing was drink, smoke and invite girls over, “guys, tell them?”
“Yeah—he’s right,” they all agreed, not maintaining eye contact, looking at each other awkwardly. 
“Okay, since the beach house is Hyuck’s, why don’t we let him decide?” Your mom sighs, looking at Hyuck. 
Now that the sole attention is on him, he tries to act clueless with a helpless look on his face, especially when you are looking at him with big eyes, lower lip jutting out in a pout. 
Then he looked back at his friends, who clearly wanted the girl to go, minus Mark at least. Lastly, he looked at your mom, who only smiled, and that was enough of an excuse for Hyuck to say with the sweetest smile—
“Of course, Y/n and her friend are always invited.”
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“He said yes,” you were on the phone, explaining the whole situation to Yunjin, knowing well that she’d be more than ready to accompany you for your rendezvous. 
“He what?” She exclaimed, knowing that the boys would never take your side, especially in front of Mark. 
“I know, mom sorta helped cause Haechan never says no to mom, it’s like he’s her favourite child or something,” a humorous laugh left your lips. 
“Well, he will be once he becomes your boyfriend,” Yunjin gushed, “we’ll make sure he notices you this time, we’ve got a whole week to make it work.” 
You had rushed up the stairs and into your room as soon as the decision had been made, followed by the loud complaints of Mark—which you did not bother to hear, calling Yunjin to fill her in with the situation instead. 
She was packing as you were speaking. 
In all honesty, it never crossed your mind that you would actually want to seduce Haechan, provided that he was Mark’s friend, which would lead to fights you definitely didn’t wish to be a part of, but you were an adult, so Mark held no authority over you. 
There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun after all. 
“I’m not giving you a ride,” Mark deadpanned when you got back downstairs, your mother looking at him with disappointment. 
“I’ll take a cab then,” you rolled your eyes. 
“No need, you’re taking two cars and it’s enough to fit you all,” your mom finally said, “who’s driving?” 
“Me and Mark,” Hyuck replied, voice innocent as you turned to look his way, “Mark is taking the bigger one.”
“Is that so? All boys can go with Mark then. Won’t you give a lift to Y/n and Yunjin, Hyuck?” Your mom asked, knowing he won’t say no. 
She was good at persuasion, unknowingly giving Haechan the full opportunity to be with you, which is exactly what he was aiming for in the first place. 
Haechan only nodded earnestly, eyes almost shining as he looked back at you, “of course, you can ride with me,” he said, ignoring the glare thrown his way by Mark as your name rolled off his tongue, “Y/n.”
As if his voice and gaze wasn’t enough for you to stop breathing in a room full of people, the subtle smirk on his lips successfully had your knees buckling with anticipation. 
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Never in a million years you had thought that you’d be riding shotgun in Hyuck’s car, with him driving and humming along to songs under his breath. You had worn the shortest skirt you managed to find in your closet and the little trick had worked as you saw him staring at your legs when you first came downstairs, announcing that you and Yunjin were ready to leave for the trip. 
Not only did it grab the attention of the boy you had been targeting, but also it garnered attention of Jaemin, who at least tried to act respectful by gulping and looking away. 
Hyuck on the other hand believed that he should blatantly stare at the things which are to be admired, including your legs. 
It didn’t take long for you guys to load your bags into his car, as the other one left ten minutes before you guys. Yunjin wasn’t a fan of long drives—two hours in your case, so she put on her AirPods and closed her eyes the second she got into the back seat, also to give you privacy with Haechan. 
He drove with one hand, the other resting on his thigh. The rings and chain adorning his body caught your attention for a second too long. His hands were definitely bigger than yours, veins popping out whenever he gripped the steering wheel. 
The aura around him was too strong, as if he was a magnet ready to pull everyone towards him, you were no exception. 
“Like the rings, darling?” He asked, eyes on the road with the corner of his lip upturned. 
The question successfully broke your train of thoughts. It was probably the first conversation you had with him, excluding the usual greetings. 
And he kick-started it by calling you darling. 
“They’re pretty,” you replied, not letting the nickname phase you, despite heat creeping up your neck. 
His smile widened at your answer and he swiftly got a ring off his finger, passing it to you—again, without even looking your way. 
“They’ll look prettier on you,” he says ever so smoothly, and you bite your lips, trying to stop the smile from widening as your fingers brush against his, taking the ring and inspecting the design, “don’t wear that in front of the boys though, they’ll flip.”
An amused chuckle left your lips, something which Haechan did not expect, “why? Still scared of Mark and his empty threats?” You asked. 
He pissed you off too much with his don’t come near my sister or I’ll make your life a living hell threat to others, and you were bitter about it. 
“Now, why would I be scared of Mark?” He scoffed. 
“Because you’re one of his friends who aren’t even allowed to look my way,” you said as a matter of fact, breath hitching the second you felt his fingers on your thigh, the warmth of his palm juxtaposing the cold metal of his rings. 
The car was stopped at the red light, “I’ve always looked you in the eye, sweetheart,” he whispered, confirming his statement by turning his head and staring right into your eyes, the tension palpable as your gazes locked, the look being too alluring for you to break the eye contact. 
His whole demeanour changed in a second when his serious expression morphed into a sweet smile, the kind that makes you melt right before he shifted his focus back on the road as if he hadn’t just provided you a sliver of hope about him being interested in you. 
He, however, didn’t bother moving his hand which was gripping your thigh lightly, his fingers were long and looked exceptionally pretty on your skin. You couldn’t help but look out of the window, trying not to let your thoughts get out of hand. 
It certainly didn’t help that he was singing explicit romantic songs with all his might while your best friend was sleeping peacefully in the backseat. 
Haechan loved every single reaction he got out of you, your little shivers when he caressed your thigh, your breath hitching for the very same reason midway a conversation, and your sweet blabber as you he initiated a conversation. 
“How was school?” He asked after a while. 
The conversation flowed smoothly after, the ride wasn’t long after all, his hand caressing your thigh throughout the journey, and you wished for it to be longer. 
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The beach house wasn’t a house apparently, but a mansion with how grand it was. Meaning, everyone would easily get their own rooms. Mark’s car was already parked as they reached earlier, but you saw Jaemin coming out when he heard the sound of Hyuck’s car, helping you take the bags inside with his ever so charming smile while Yunjin and you silently gushed about the beach view. 
Others were busy preparing for the party that was to be held at night—which was news to you. 
The interior was in the shades of black, white, and greys, matching Haechan’s personality in a peculiar manner, given that he was filled with colours of all sorts. 
You and Yunjin selected the adjacent rooms on the first floor, the balcony giving you a pretty view wasn’t something you’d want to miss out on. Haechan occupying the room which was right in front of your room is another thing which boosted your excitement. 
The next few hours flew by as you rested on the beach with Yunjin, soaking up warmth of the sand with the cold ocean waves reaching your toes. It felt peaceful. 
“So, what are you gonna wear to woo Haechan today?” Yunjin asked, sipping on her iced beverage. 
The sun was about to set, your eyes never leaving the sky which displayed all shades of red, yellow and orange, “what do you mean?”
“I mean that there’s no way they won’t be inviting girls, it was supposed to be a boys trip after all to get their dicks wet,” she said as a matter of fact. 
You winced again, not having it in you to watch your brother surrounded by girls. 
“And if Haechan was flirting with you, then it’s your chance to flirt back now, given that Mark would be drunk beyond the point of recovery. Not to mention how you’ll have to do something so he doesn’t stray off and give attention to other girls,” Yunjin listed out. 
She was right, it wasn’t like you were going to get this chance again, “red dress or black dress?” You asked with a playful smile and she squealed, rushing you into your room to help you get ready. 
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The music was blaring by the time you applied the last swatch of lipstick, smacking your lips for the colour to blend in perfectly, complementing your skin tone ever so perfectly. Yunjin doing the same beside you. 
You weren’t sure how they managed to gather all this crowd for a party, granted you guys didn’t even live here, yet who would question these boys, an online invite and people would come running to attend their parties. 
Which was the case at the given moment as well. The second you stepped out from your assorted room, you found Jeno practically eating a girl’s face off with how passionately they were kissing  right beside the door, the music blaring in the background as you tried to overcome the initial shock of seeing your brother’s friend going what you’d consider wild. 
Making your way downstairs, you put on your best confident expression, your eyes immediately looking around, trying to find a certain black haired guy. 
Yunjin stopped you, pointing at the corner of the room where Hyuck was sitting with girls surrounding him, Renjun right next to him, a scoff of disbelief leaving your lips when one of them oh so comfortably sat down on his lap, his arm wrapping around her waist so naturally. 
Yet you couldn’t deny just how effortlessly attractive he looked in that black button up, the first few buttons undone to reveal his chest. The eyeshadow enhancing the look of his eyes to appear more slutry than they already seemed to be. 
Great. This is what you came on this trip for—to see Hyuck tilting the chin of a random girl, shoving his tongue inside her mouth. 
This won’t do, you averted your gaze, going straight to get alcohol, any kind would do, you just needed a boost of confidence to work upon your plan. Yunjin knew exactly what you were up to, winking at you before wandering off in the crowd. 
“Not dancing tonight?” Jaemin asked, standing right next to you as he poured himself a drink. 
His presence made your job easier, especially when he looked so good tonight. His dark hair was a little messy, sleeves rolled up as he was clad in all black, a simple chain adorning his slender neck. 
Perfect bait to get a reaction out of Haechan. 
If he’d bother to look your way, that is. 
“Talking to me tonight? Not scared of my brother anymore?” Your lips curled up, amused. 
That earned a laugh out of him, “he’s locked up in a room as we speak,” he said over the music. Translation: he was busy fucking someone and he won’t be here to monitor your moves. 
Your nose scrunched, not wanting to think about your brother doing the deed. Jaemin walked alongside you as you took up his offer to dance, but also made sure that you could see Haechan clearly with your spot. 
His eyes turned your way for the first time tonight the second you started moving your body along to the rhythm. The distance was fair, yet it felt as if you were the only person in this room and he was the only spectator to your actions. 
Jaemin’s hand came to rest on your waist, your body in sync with his moves, the proximity close and a blissful expression on your face. 
Again, you subtly looked Hyuck’s way, only to find his eyes darker than ever, not straying away from you for even a second, the girl on his lap long forgotten as he couldn’t find a reason to give her his attention anymore. 
Not when you were dancing with Jaemin, not when your dress rode up, revealing your thighs, not when Jaemin whispered in your ear and you giggled, getting closer to him. 
He couldn’t stand it, the muscle in his jaw clenched, his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek with annoyance bubbling up in his body. 
You turned around, only to find Haechan missing from the spot he was sitting at. All of a sudden, you excused yourself from Jaemin and made your way around the room, to find him again and you failed to do so. 
The room’s atmosphere got stuffy as the night progressed and you made your way upstairs to your room in need of fresh air which was very well provided by the grand balcony. 
Just as you twisted the door knob, getting inside the room, you gasped as Hyuck closed the door behind you, pushing you against the wooden surface of the door, his scent taking over your senses seamlessly as you breathed in deeply. 
“Hyuck—” you whispered, hyper aware of how close he was to you, his body pressed against yours in a way you could feel his torso muscles. His face tilted ever so slightly, just enough for your noses to brush against each other. 
The position alone sent you into a state of frenzy, and he didn’t even let you finish speaking out his name as he chuckled darkly. 
“Didn’t know you were into Jaemin, darling,” he whispered, causing you to gulp down the nervousness, which was of no use as your knees felt even weaker with his slender finger tracing your cheek, stopping right by your lips, “dancing with him while wearing the ring that I gave you.” His thumb caressing your bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly, “doesn’t really sound fair to me now, does it, baby?” He asked, stopping his actions and looking your right in the eye. 
You couldn’t show him how affected you were with possessiveness laced tone, “I don’t see how it’s unfair, Haechan,” you smiled sweetly, keeping your hand on his chest. 
“Wrong,” he said in a beat, “his intentions aren’t pure,” he provided. 
You chuckled, turning your face to the side for a second, “what about your intentions?” You dared to ask. 
His hold on you tightened, “you wanna know my intentions?” He asked, voice so low it gave you goosebumps as he moved even closer to you, his lips on the verge of touching yours. 
They never fully touched, your hand becoming a barrier between you two, “maybe some other day,” you whispered, the expression in his eyes unreadable, “someday when you don’t come here with tainted lips after kissing god knows how many girls,” you smiled tightly, pushing him aside, the alcohol only providing you with unadulterated courage. 
He pulled you back, hand wrapped around your wrist so his torso was pressed against your back, which vibrated with his chuckles, “didn’t know it bothered you that much, pretty,” his lips touched your earlobe. 
“It doesn’t,” you seethed out, trying not to sound breathless as you shrugged out of his hold, “besides, we mean nothing to each other. I won’t stop you from snogging anyone and you can’t stop me from dancing with anyone.”
That’s all you said before slipping out of his grasp, rushing in and closing the bathroom door behind you and breathing in deeply. The feeling of his touch still lingering on your body, he was jealous as you were and he was so close. 
So close to kissing you. 
Hyuck leaned against the door on the opposite side of you, “we mean nothing to each other?” He scoffed under his breath, the image of Jaemin’s hands on your waist coming back to his mind. He was wrong to pay attention to someone else, he admits, but now he was determined to give you all his attention. 
“You’re mine, you just don’t know that yet,” he says, knowing you won’t be able to hear him, “all mine,” his tone was possessive still as he walked out of the room. 
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The boys woke up all hungover the next morning, while you and Yunjin snuck out of the mansion before others woke up, only to avoid Hyuck, which was almost funny given that you were here to get his attention. 
Regardless, you sat in this cute cafe you found nearby, explaining the whole situation to your best friend. The slight smirk on her face gave away the fact that she was proud of you for not giving him attention last night. It’ll only make him want you more, she had said. 
Mark called you right after you finished your meal, “where are you?” He asked, panicked, “don’t tell me you got kidnapped,” the horror was clear in his voice and you rolled your eyes, not understanding how his brain worked. 
“I literally left a note on the fridge that I’ll be out for lunch and shopping, Mark,” you explained, almost laughing when you heard him say oh. He was standing right in front of the fridge apparently. 
“Right, have fun,” he said, hanging up the call. 
He wasn’t the best brother but he did care. At times, more than he needed to. 
“Okay so here’s the plan,” Yunjin started to explain. She loved giving out ideas and they always worked, which is why you found yourself in the swimsuit store, purchasing the one which flattered your body in the best manner. 
“And don’t lock your room at night. Knowing Haechan, he would definitely give you a little visit after seeing you pull that stunt.” 
The sun was setting and you were almost back at the mansion. You enjoyed the day and it was a great plan to get Hyuck out of your head, even though it wasn’t possible despite the fact that it had been only two days since you came back and met him again. 
Tonight’s plan was to have a bonfire by the beach, grill meat and have a good time. Mark had finally accepted and asked everyone to tone down and make the trip more family friendly, hence the bonfire.  
The place was empty when you got back in, and you saw the boys setting up the barbecue when you changed into your dress before making your way to join them. 
“Remember the plan?” Yunjin asked and you nodded, loving the feel of cold sand beneath your foot. 
Hyuck was the first one to notice your presence, his dark eyes fixated on your figure as you walked towards them, Jaemin being the second one as he smiled your way, to which you smiled back sweetly. 
You still had Hyuck’s ring on as you approached the place where Hyuck and Jaemin were grilling the meat, Mark was sitting down and playing his guitar while Jeno and Renjun sang along to the song, Yunjin being a great singer also joined those three. 
“Can I have a taste?” You asked, looking at Jaemin with hopeful eyes. 
The weather was cold yet the burning stare of a certain someone had you feeling all kinds of warmth, yet you didn’t look his way. 
“Of course, say ah,” Jaemin said, eyes shining as he held the piece of meat for you and you gladly accepted it, your lips touching his fingers in a caress, the juicy taste making you hum out in pleasure. 
In a second, you were turned around, “there’s something on your lips,” Hyuck muttered, expression stoic as he brushed his thumb on your lower lip, “all cleaned.”
You would have laughed at the jealousy had his action not been so intimidating, as if he was warning you not to do this. 
“Thanks,” you said, voice extra sweet before you looked back at Jaemin who was confused at the exchange, “can I have more?” You asked. 
“Here.” Hyuck shoved a plate in your hands before Jaemin could even reply, “enjoy your food,” he said, smiling but his eye twitched in the process, making you bite your lower lip to contain your laugh yet again and you sat down finally. 
“Do you think the water would be cold right now?” Jeno asked no one in general, his intrusive thoughts winning.  
“Why? Wanna take a dip?” Mark asked with a laugh, eyebrows raising once he realized that Jeno was serious about it. 
“It’ll be fun,” he said as everyone laughed around him. 
“There’s no light out here, Jeno,” Renjun said. 
“It’ll be fun.”
“The waves are strong too,” Mark reasoned.
“It’ll be fun.”
“Okay, his vocabulary is limited,” Hyuck said, sitting by you as Jaemin handed over the plates to everyone, Mark sparing a glance to make sure Hyuck didn’t sit too close to you. 
“We can go one hour after eating, just dip our toes in,” Yunjin suggested and you guys agreed as Mark resumed playing his guitar. 
“Have more, Y/n.” Jaemin smiled, giving you more pieces to eat from his own plate. 
Haechan didn’t remember the last time he felt so pissed over something this small, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It had been two whole days since you made your comeback in his life but those two days were enough for him to want you, granted he did have a crush on you for the longest time, only now it wasn’t just your sweetness he was attracted to. 
“Thank you, nana,” you beamed, the nickname only infuriating Hyuck more while you could see Jaemin blush faintly and you truly wondered how all these goofballs pulled girls so easily. 
“Nana,” Hyuck mocked under his breath, Yunjin noticing the atmosphere and slightly pushing you towards him. 
“You’re doing brilliantly,” she whispered, “he looks like he’ll blow up anytime now.”
It felt nice, sitting in front of the bonfire while listening to others singing. You knew you were trying to make Hyuck jealous yet it was hard not to stare at his face, which basked in the glow of fire. He was already looking your way, noticing how you still had his ring on, which only tempted him to pull you on his lap, yet he knew it was impossible with your brother monitoring his every move. 
“Let’s go into the water,” Jeno repeated, as Mark smirked. 
“On the count of one, two,” he said, and didn’t even finish before your eyes widened as your brother came to pick you up in hopes of throwing you into the cold water. 
Mark was escapable. Jeno on the other hand, not so much and it didn’t help how they both had lifted you up despite your thrashing and whining and ran towards the water. 
“Mark I swear I’ll kill you—” you warned and Yunjin had the time of her life recording this whole scene. 
Renjun continuously reminded the boys to stay safe while also doing god’s work by providing you with the flashlight set on the highest setting from his phone. 
Within a second, you were screaming and thrashing as the boys dropped you into the cold water, laughing and doing the same with a horrified Renjun before rushing towards the mansion, especially Mark, leaving you all cold. 
Hyuck rushed to close the flashlight. 
You were wearing white, and the water only made your clothes look transparent, which is why Hyuck was taking his jacket off, but yet again, Jaemin was quick to wrap his leather jacket around your shivering frame. 
He was glad that you were covered but the annoyance was clear on his face, the amusement long gone even with you muttering and plotting Mark and Jeno’s murder with Renjun. 
Nor did he enjoy the sight of Jaemin taking you back to the villa, acting all protective as if he was your knight in shining armour. 
“You’re making it so obvious that you’re jealous,” Yunjin quipped, noticing how everyone walked ahead of them, rushing to the mansion. 
He laughed out, ending it with a scoff, “I have no reason to be,” he said, voice calm, “she’s mine anyways,” he shrugged, determination clear in his eyes. 
“Wow, you’re not even scared to admit it out loud? What if Mark hears?” She asks and Hyuck’s expression sours. 
“He wouldn’t approve. That’s a given but that’s not enough to stop me,” he shrugged yet again. 
“Okay Mr. Someone is stealing your girl as we speak though,” Yunjin pointed out, a fake sympathetic scowl on her face. 
Haechan hated feeling this way, the feeling where things do not go his way. He hadn’t felt this way since—forever. He had everything he wanted, but not you. Mark being a hindrance is something he considered to be normal till some extent, but Jaemin? That’s unacceptable. 
“I’ll take care of it.”
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It was one in the morning and you were wrapped up in a blanket, sitting down near the balcony to observe the spectrum of stars which you could have sworn were shining. 
Being thrown into the water wasn’t the best experience per se, but you knew it would soon turn into a funny memory you guys would look back at someday in the future. Yet, it wasn’t something you were thinking about much, granted you had better things to ponder about. 
Lee Haechan. 
You well expected him to show at least a sliver of reaction, some sort of outburst during the evening, however it never came. Either he was plotting revenge or he simply didn’t care enough. Or he was trying to keep it in, your mind tried to reason with you. 
You sighed, getting up and closing the sliding doors of the big balcony in hopes of getting a cozy sleep. You needed that warmth after all. Just as you dropped the blanket on the bed, the door swung open—which shouldn’t have happened, given that you were sure you had locked it.
Haechan entered the room, closing the door behind him and you couldn’t help but stand at your place, shocked at his sudden appearance, “how did you—” 
“It’s my place, I can get in and out anytime I want,” he replied, voice smooth, giving you goosebumps as he walked closer to you. 
He was clad in sweatpants and a white T-shirt, the attire was simple, yet he made it look a hundred times more attractive than the usual. 
“Oh,” you breathed out, the dim lights of the room caused his skin to glow a beautiful shade of golden. 
There wasn’t a single ounce of jealousy on his face, rather, he looked content with the setting, settling down and sitting on the corner of the bed, his dark eyes staring at you, the silence louder than ever. 
“Uhm, so—did you want something?” You asked, wincing at your tone as you suddenly felt conscious under his gaze, slightly aroused too, not knowing what he was actually here for. 
He clicked his tongue, looking away for a second before his eyes settled on you for the second time. 
Hyuck gave you no time to process anything as his hands grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him in a single hard tug, which had your body stumbling forward and right on his lap. 
He held on to your waist, helping you stabilize your balance, “what’s wrong, princess? You were so confident, getting cozy with Jaemin, huh?” He raise his brow, letting the possessiveness show on his face, the I don’t give a fuck facade disappearing. 
Your breath hitched with the movement of his fingers on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on the part where your top had ridden up to expose your skin. 
“He was just being nice,” you breathed out, shivering slightly. 
He rolled his eyes at your statement, a scoff leaving his lips before he leaned in, earning a gasp out of you. His nose caressed yours, and you were scared to move, his lips hovering above yours. 
“Just being nice my ass,” he clicked his tongue yet again, and suddenly you were hyper aware about the fact that you were breathing in the same air, “you wanted to know my intentions, right, princess?” He asked, “then listen, I want you all to myself,” his tone was raspy, your fingers digging into his shoulders for support, “don’t think I didn’t notice your subtle glances towards me, especially when you were with Jaemin,” he chuckled and you gulped, looking elsewhere. 
He was quick to grab your chin, making you look right in his eyes, “trying to get me jealous, darling? Well, good for you, it fucking worked.”
“Hyuck—” you whimper, your body heating up as you realized you were sitting right on his crotch. 
“Shh, bad girls don’t get to talk,” he shook his head, disappointed, “now what do we do about this? Maybe I’ll just have to claim your body to make you understand that you don’t need to make me jealous to have all my attention,” he suggested. 
You could feel the wetness down in your lacy panties and he hadn’t even touched you. Something about the way his voice came out so luscious, something about the way his touch made you feel like putty, something about his eyes made you feel mesmerized. 
“Tell me, baby. Can I mark you mine?” He asked and you felt your heart flutter, his voice was gentle when he asked for your consent, and you couldn’t hold back from wanting him anymore, nodding gently, “use your words, love,” he urged, lips parted. 
“Yes,” you whispered, grabbing on to him as he bit your lip, eliciting another gasp out of you, a teasing smirk on his face. 
“Yeah? You sure you can handle it?” He asked and you tugged on to his collar, impatiently pulling you to him. 
“Let’s find out,” you mumbled. 
Without any more delay, you closed the distance between you both, his hand coming to rest on your nape, tilting your head to kiss you passionately, his tongue brushing over your lips, parting them with ease for your tongue to graze the tip of his own. 
The room felt misty as you continued to kiss, his kisses getting more possessive by second, thinking about how no one else should have you, that you belong to him. He picked you up with ease, putting you underneath him on the bed, his kisses trailing down as you took a deep breath. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled midway kisses, some were long, especially the ones around your clavicle and neck region while the others were feather soft, driving you insane to the point of no return. It only ascended when his fingers finally lifted up your top, exploring the expanse of your skin with teasing touches. 
Your back arched as soon as he caresses the area under your tits, before cupping them fully, leaning back to get rid of your top altogether. You couldn’t shy under his gaze, the way he looked at you only boosted your confidence, as if he was a predator hungry for a meal and you were his precious prey, all ready to be devoured. 
He had no time to waste, his mouth working fast to lean down, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, noticing how you react to his each touch, fondling your other tit, hearing you whimper and beg for more, his name chanting on your lips out of sheer pleasure. 
“It’s so fucking cute how your body reacts to every little touch of mine,” he whispered, biting your earlobe in the process, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he stuffed his pretty fingers inside your shorts, chuckling when he realizes how soiled your lacy panties had gotten, “fuck, I wanna taste that pretty cunt,” he says, taking off his T-shirt before doing the same to your shorts, dragging your panties down alongside it. 
You found yourself drooling at the sight of Hyuck’s muscles, he had started going to the gym and the results were clearly visible on his body, but you were ripped out of your thought train when he bit your inner thigh, causing you to clench around nothing, giving you kisses and licks all over, but not touching the part where you needed him the most. 
“P—please,” you cried out of frustration, and he immersed himself, licking a big stripe of your wet cunt, genuinely loving the taste as he hummed with satisfaction, holding your thighs open with his strong arms, “oh god,” you moaned out, causing him to smirk against your wetness, pressing sweet kisses to your clit. 
It felt like heaven when you were being destroyed by the demon himself. 
Hyuck was hard, his thick cock barely containing itself from splitting your pussy into two, but he wanted to see you fall apart on his tongue first, “your cunt,” he said, licking it to make a point, “belongs to me,” he whispered and you nodded. 
“It’s yours—all yours!”
“That’s my good fucking girl, you’re all mine,” he said, his tongue prodding at your entrance, fucking your pussy, which gave you more pleasure than you had ever felt through your life. 
It didn’t take long for you to feel your lower abdomen tightening, your fingers tugging on his silky black roots as he ate you out like a madman, as if he was drunk in the essence of your pussy. With a cry, you found yourself falling apart all over his tongue and he lapped it up, coming to kiss you right after, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. He knew you’d be overstimulated, but that’s exactly what he was aiming for when he finally pulled out his cock. You knew he’d be thick, but you underestimated him still, knowing well his cock wouldn’t fit in your cunt. 
“Gonna claim you mine,” he whispered, intertwining his fingers with yours as he positioned himself on your entrance, “fuck, you’re all mine,” he said, kissing you deeply to absorb all yours moans as he pushed himself inside you. 
Your wetness helped him, yet he had to thrust in a few times to bottom out and could feel yourself clenching around him uncontrollably, loving the stretch and also the fact that he was twitching inside of you. 
His fingers grabbed your hips in a tight hold as he started pistoning into you at a pace which you hadn’t expected, and you were sure you looked crazy with how your eyes were teary, your hair a mess and your lips swollen, courtesy of the boy who groaned and slapped your cunt, fucking you deeper. 
“That’s it, baby, you’re taking me so well,” he praised and you let out broken sentences which he couldn’t comprehend, you were too gone, pushed into your subspace to the point you simply let Hyuck do all the work, moaning and whimpering for him, trying to keep your noises at bay in case anyone wakes up. 
Just when you both were about to read your high, he stopped fucking you, making you whimper out in distress, only to have you flipped with your ass up and head down on the pillow. 
It didn’t take him a second before he was entering your cunt again, fucking you from behind in hopes of giving you the brutal backshots you deserved, to fuck you in a way that you’ll be ruined forever, not even wanting to go back to another guy for their cock. 
This also gave him the perfect opportunity to spank your ass, the hurt only making you clench around him harder. 
“Fuck—I’m so—so close,” you sobbed, voice coming out muffled and Hyuck rubbed your clit to stimulate you further. 
“Go on, baby. Give me everything,” he urged and you both finally let go, groaning and whining as he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with your juices.
It felt as if the universe had blessed you with the highest amount of unadulterated pleasure one could have, and your eyes closed shut as Hyuck lay down next to you, breathing in and out just as quick as you to regain his strength to breathe properly. 
“Y/n,” he whispered, more gently this time, pulling you into a sweet kiss as you smiled into it, finding it amusing that he was the same guy who brutally fucked you not even a few minutes back, “you really are mine, yeah?” He said, caressing your cheek. 
“Yeah?” You asked in a whisper and he nodded earnestly, getting a washcloth and helping you into the bathroom, feeling proud when you couldn’t stand up properly. 
He was sweet. Sweeter than you had ever expected him to be and that’s why you found yourself kissing him again, and again as you both washed up in the shower, turning it to the point you both couldn’t help but giggle, his forehead resting against yours. 
“I really do like you, baby,” he whispered. 
“I really like you too, Hyuck,” you replied, feeling happier than you had ever felt, spending a while in his embrace, talking and kissing and eventually, falling asleep in his arms as you both smiled faintly, even in your deep slumber. 
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Hurt. 
That’s what your body felt the second you blinked open your eyes. Images from last night revisiting you as a montage, a small smile lingered on your face, discarding the fact that you were disappointed, not having Hyuck by your side when you woke up, but then again, it was still better than getting caught by Mark. 
With the support of the bedside tables, you managed to stand up on your wobbly feet, stablizing yourself before going into the bathroom to freshen up, you needed that long bath to soothe down your muscles. 
Now wrapped up in your bath robe, you passed by the door, only to hear the sound of someone arguing. Curiosity got the best of you as you walked back, twisting the knob to open it just the right amount for it to not be noticeable, gladly the door opened seamlessly. 
“Stop playing with her feelings,” Jaemin whisper-yelled, and your heartbeat rose when you saw how it was directed towards Hyuck. 
“Who the fuck even said I’m playing with her?” Hyuck asked, his voice full of exasperation and anger. 
Jaemin scoffed, you hadn’t seen that expression on his face, ever. “So you’re just gonna go around fucking her right after Mark told you, specifically might I add, to stay away from her. What are you trying to do here? Take revenge by proving a point?” 
Your heart dropped hearing that sentence. Sneaking around made sense because Mark would, without any doubts, be against this setting, but what revenge was Jaemin talking about? When did Mark ask Hyuck to stay away from her, specifically at that? 
“That’s none of your business,” Hyuck replied, teeth gritted, “besides, weren’t you the one begging for her attention by putting up your good boy act? We aren’t that different, Jaemin,” he mocked, “you only want her cause she’s Mark’s sister.”
Your lip wobbled at his confession, he hadn’t agreed to Jaemin’s claims yet he hadn’t denied it either and suddenly you didn’t feel comfortable, all the positive energy drained as you rushed to get dressed, to get out. 
You trusted Hyuck too easily, and you knew you’d have to confront him about this, but you didn’t feel like doing it now. You wanted to go back home, alone, to deal with your inconvenience which would bother you for a while now. 
So you did what you had to do: run away from your problems. 
You texted Mark that you’d be taking his car, also mentioning it to Yunjin that you’ll be going back home, as you rushed to get dressed up and sneak out of the place without Hyuck knowing, and you were successful in doing so, sighing as soon as you started driving back. 
Hyuck thought you were sleeping in, and he couldn’t enter your room with everyone being awake and roaming around, especially when Jaemin knew what you two had done last night. 
The reminder only made him smile, as cliche as it sounds, he had never felt this way with other girls, your little confession only made his heart beat faster. You liked him back, and that’s all that mattered. 
“Yo, why did Y/n leave? She’s not picking up the calls either?” Hyuck heard Mark ask Yunjin, who knew exactly what was up. 
“She’s got some work to take care of, you don’t have to worry about it,” Yunjin patted his shoulder before making her way out to the beach to call you again. She knows you want space, but she also knows you like it when she checks up on you. 
Now, that was news to Hyuck, his eyes widening as he rushed to open the door to your room, only to find you weren’t actually there. 
“Fuck,” he mumbled, getting his phone out and calling you, only for it to get declined, “no, fuck,” he groaned, thinking about if he upset you in any way, yet he couldn’t understand why you’d leave, especially when you were so happy when you went to sleep. 
Or maybe she heard you talking to Jaemin, his subconscious spoke up, making him lose his mind and punch the wall next to him, running down the stairs to follow Yunjin, calling out her name which caused her to pause and remove her sunglasses. 
“Where is Y/n?” He asked, breathing heavily. 
“Are you playing with her feelings?” She asked instead of replying to his question, “cause if that’s the case then I don’t care if we’re staying at your mansion, I’ll have to kick and break your baby making machine.” Her smile was threatening. 
“Oh god, that’s not it!” Hyuck was frustrated, “I’ve liked her since we were kids, I'm not joking around,” he said earnestly, “is she upset, why did she leave?” 
Yunjin watched the boy with amusement in her eyes, “you’re so dumb actually. If you like her enough then why aren’t you running after her right now? Get in your car and get your girl, shoo,” she dismissed him and Hyuck didn’t wait to chat about how she shouldn’t shoo him away, rather, he ran to grab his car keys, not paying attention to Renjun who asked why he was in such a hurry. 
Hyuck didn’t want any miscommunications whatsoever, it had been an hour since you had left, and it’ll probably be impossible to cover that distance in a short while so he decided to drive faster and get to your place. 
“Y/n, baby, please listen to me,” he muttered to himself, trying to call you again. 
You weren’t dating. It had barely been a week since you came back, a few days since he had started to get to know this new side of you and he didn’t want it to stop, not when he’s genuinely liked you for so long, minus his fuckboy ways of course. 
Mark had tried to call him a few times too, sensing that something was up, yet Hyuck didn’t pick up those calls, focusing on driving till he finally reached your place, relieved to see Mark’s car parked there. 
He knew there was an extra key under the third potted plant on the entrance, and that’s exactly what he took and opened the door. The living room was empty, which caused him to rush up the stairs to find you in your room, his chest heaving up and down. 
The sudden voice startled you, your mouth going dry at the sight of Hyuck. 
You couldn’t avoid him after all. 
“Hyuck, is everything okay? What are you doing here—why are you here?” You asked, pretending to be okay. 
“Did you hear us in the morning?” He asked, eyes softer than you had ever seen. 
You opened your mouth to speak, but stopped, gulping down your emotions before staring at your feet, “I did,” you whispered, “but it’s fine, Hyuck. The sex was great—”
You didn’t look up while rambling, and it was cut short when Hyuck pulled you into his embrace, warmth spreading all over your body with how he held you close to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so broken seeing someone’s face, and he couldn’t handle that it was because of him that you felt this hurt. 
“That’s not true,” he whispered, holding you tighter, you could feel tears forming in your eyes. 
“N—no one’s ever approached me because of Mark,” your voice came out muffled, and Hyuck leaned back slightly just to look at your face, his thumb wiping the stray tear that cascaded down your cheek, “i felt like no one wanted to befriend me for me, all girls wanted to get to him through me and all the boys were so scared,” you laughed pathetically, knowing that your story wasn’t even sob worthy, “but you were the only one who still talked to me, even if it was just greeting me, asking me about my day,” you let out your breath. 
“Baby,” Hyuck cupped your cheeks. 
“You were the only exception, Hyuck. Maybe that’s the reason I’ve always liked you so much. So tell me, was it all a joke?” You asked, eyes serious. 
“It wasn’t,” he shook his head, gulping down before explaining it to you, “it happened at the party when I offered to drop you home but Mark was against it, thinking that I would use you to only fuck you, but that was not my intention I swear,” he says with a frown. 
“So that’s what you did,” your voice barely came out, it sounded broken. 
“God—no. No. I could never do that to you,” he felt helpless, trying to word his sentence properly, “I’ve liked you since we were kids, and I was heartbroken when you switched schools and cities. But I just got so excited when Mark told us that you were back—I wanted to see you, talk to you, but Mark only gave me a reminder that I couldn’t have you.”
You listened to him, your heart undoubtedly fluttering with how earnest his eyes looked, how the distress of being denied of you flashed clearly on his face. 
You really wanted to kiss him. 
“And when he gave all those permissions to Jaemin, I couldn’t help it. I never had revenge in my mind Y/n. I like you too much to hurt you, and I know we’re not even dating right now, but I don’t want anyone to ruin it for us even before our story starts and I swear to god I’ll fight Mark if it means that I can have you,” he breathed out, cheeks flushed as he had confessed to someone for the very first time.
You broke into a smile despite the tears in your eyes, “you promise?” You held up your pinky finger. 
He laced his pinky finger with yours, tugging it so you stumble slightly, and he takes it as an opportunity to pull you into a deep kiss, his soft lips caressing yours in a possessive hold, promising that he’ll take care of you. 
“Good, cause I was going to be really upset if you didn’t,” you mumbled against his lips. 
He chuckled before saying, “don’t ever run away from me, yeah?” 
You nodded, hugging him back tighter as you felt your anxiety calming down, your smile widening as he kissed your forehead, easing out your worries and you were sure you wanted to give it a try—you wanted to give you both a try. 
Yet another problem lingered in your mind. 
“So, about Mark,” you winced, knowing it’ll be disastrous.
“Shh, we’ll think about him later,” he mumbled, but the peacefulness wasn’t here to stay for long as a loud voice boomed up, indicating that Jaemin had snitched. 
“Lee fucking Donghyuck, I told you to stay away from my sister!” Mark shouted, your eyes widening as you both looked at each other. 
“Fuck, hide!”
Despite the chaos of hiding in your closet, you knew that Hyuck would always be your exception. 
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