#pink fic

[netherfeildren]

Pink : Part II: I See Your Father as My Father

Series Masterlist : Part I

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; Welcome to the father-in-law suck and fuck extravaganza; Fix-it-fic but the thing that needs fixing is a person; Daddy issues; Daddy kink; Divorce; DD/lg dynamics; Older man/Younger woman; Inappropriate relationships; Self esteem issues; Discussions of emotional and mental abuse; Unhealthy coping mechanisms; Ass play lite; Unprotected sex; Creampie; Praise kink; Aftercare; Size kink; Spitting; Come eating; Thigh fucking; Oral sex

A/N: Check the tags on the masterlist, as well!

Word Count: 12.3K

Rating: Explicit 18+

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

2. I See Your Father as My Father

When he swings the door open, he’s still half pulling a t-shirt over his curl messed head, faded gray, rust orange longhorn across the front, a flash of hair sprinkled belly. All man, man, man. It stretches over his broad shoulders so the holes strewn there stretch and gape wide making your face heat unbearably. And he’s struck silent for a second, realizing it’s you taking up space on his front porch, trying to hide against the shadow of the wooden beam at your back, ringing his bell in the middle of the night like the Devil’s on your heels. Brow pulled low, he steps out onto the porch, into the shadows with you, his gaze flashing back and forth between your eyes. He says your name, and you hate it. “Did somethin’ happen? Are you alright?” And you want to say no, that nothing is alright. That you know you shouldn’t be here, but you’re here anyways now, and so he needs to tell you what’s going to happen next because this is as far as you’d planned. The sound of his voice, the sight of him, that’s as far as you’d planned. The rest is up to him now, even if he doesn’t know it. Your eyes fall down the long, broad length of him. Rumpled jeans, hastily pulled on, and his bare feet, oddly erotic. They’re paler than the rest of him, sun deprived, and briefly, ridiculously, you wonder if he has that funny sock tan men get around their ankles. The skin stretched over strong tendon and bone, beautifully arched. You give a tiny shake of your head, something like a whimper slipping up your throat. And you think he must realize or understand because he sighs, long and drawn out, dragging his palm over his mouth as he watches you struggle. You think that’s his tell, that dragging hand; he does it when he’s thinking, confused, worried, upset which leads you to worry that maybe he’s upset you’re here now, but it’s done, you’ve come. There’s nothing either of you can do to undo it now. Your eyes move back up to his face, and he’s taking stock of you now also. The soft, loose jersey shorts, too big pullover almost covering them entirely, the sleeves twisted around your clenched fingers. “You gotta tell me what you’re doin’ here, sweetheart. You gotta say it out loud.” You let out a rough, frustrated sound through your clenched teeth, looking away from him for a second. 

“We never talked about it,” you say instead because you want to hear him acknowledge it, you want that to be said out loud. 

He understands immediately, “You never gave me a chance to.”

You look back at him, he’s taken a step closer, and you wrap your arms back behind the beam, trying to meld yourself to the wood, keep yourself away from him.

“What else was I supposed to do? If we talked about it, it would’ve happened again.”

“Well, then that’s why – that’s why we never talked about it.”

“But did you want to?” And your voice breaks a little at the end, “Did you want to talk about it?”

He sighs again, a muttered curse under his breath. He isn’t going to give you the easy way out. “Tell me why he left you,” and you flinch. He, his son. It’s the truth, no reason to cower. You were left. You have to look away again, unable to confess this when looking into the kinder version of eyes that never loved you. 

“I think you know. I think you could tell from the very first moment you saw us together.” He hums his agreement, and the sound fucking hurts. “He never loved me. He never even really liked me, I don’t think. But that became okay after a while.” A tear falls, and you listen to the sound of him suck in a sharp breath; it makes you smile just a little, that small sound. You look back at his face, “I don’t want you to think I’m not okay with that now because I really am. It made me realize that he’d never been what I wanted or needed either. That he couldn’t ever give me what I wanted either.”

“And what’s that?” His voice sounds gentle, but you know that it’s put on. You know there isn’t going to be anything gentle about this. 

You choose to ignore that, “You know he said once, that I’d lied to him about who I was. But I didn’t– I really didn’t, Joel,” and you say it with such panic, or fervor, or something that’s desperate to ensure that he doesn’t think the same of you. That he doesn’t take you for a liar also. “He just couldn’t understand that this is the only way I know how to be. Being scared all the time makes you a liar. It makes you what the moment needs you to be no matter what that is. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I know what you mean,” but he looks nervous, the truth of him too close to the surface, and it soothes you. The two of you are the same, you knew it. 

You peek down at your twisted fingers, nails gnawed raw and bloody and disgusting. “I don’t think he ever loved me and that made me sad. But now, I don't think I ever loved him either, and that makes me sadder. It was all for nothing, I let him turn me into that thing for nothing, and I was always waiting for him to treat me better, different. But a person who can treat you badly once usually finds it quite easy to do it again.” You look back up at him, shocked for a moment at your sharp honesty. “I’m sorry. He’s your son. I shouldn’t say these things to you,” even thought it sounds like hypocrisy, for look at where you’re standing in the middle of the night.

“And you’re you.”

And the sober way he says it sobers you, recenters you. “Yes. I’ve always been only myself.” And it’s the truth, the most difficult one. That despite Sam’s claims that you’d made him believe you to be someone you weren’t, despite the sick desire for complacency, to please all those around you, you have always been only you. Even when they’d tried to force you to be something you weren’t, you were still always only yourself. You say it again, just to hear the sound of the words. 

“You gotta tell me what you’re doing here then. You want to talk about that? About what happened that night? Is that it?”

“Yes.”

He sighs, that telling gesture over his stern mouth again. “If we do this, there’s no goin’ back, and I–”

“There already is no going back for me. I can’t forget. I can’t stop remembering.”

“It would be different– if we– if I take you, it’ll be different. You get me? I won’t be able to stop. I know myself well enough to know that. I won’t be able to stay away from you after.”

“I don’t care.”

“So that’s what you want?” But you can’t say the words out loud, you can’t, you can’t. You’re ashamed, embarrassed, humiliated by your own desire, small and slanted. Despite all your progress, and as much as you want it, you still know you shouldn’t. “I gotta fuckin’ hear it, sweetheart. Is that what you want?” You shake your head a little, another tear, wrapping your arms around yourself. You can see the fight in his eyes, trying to hold you off from the inside out. I don’t know, another tear. He makes a frustrated noise, turning to pace to the opposite end of the porch, hand fisted in his hair. When he turns back he seems to deflate, eyes going cool and steady and then, suddenly, like a ricochet, bright and light, a flash fire. Once more: “What do you want?” To be wanted. To be good. “You want me to kiss you? You want me to fuck you?”

And your eyes flutter closed in relief, there it is, finally, the hard part’s over. It’s been said out loud. “Yes, that’s what I want.” He’s on you in three ground eating strides, big hand wrapping around the contours of your jaw, the other fisting in the hair at the back of your head, pulling you up so that you’re balanced on the tips of your toes. Your eyes fall shut, mouth parting embarrassingly ready for him to kiss you, but he gives your head a little shake between his palms. “You’re supposed to belong to my son, goddamnit. I’m not supposed to want you like this. This is wrong.”

“I never belonged to him,” and then bitter truth, honesty laminated in humiliation, “And I don’t care if it’s wrong.” Followed by a thought, a wash of shyness, held in his hands as you are, large strong hands: there is a part of me that feels very innocent still, naive, experienced hands that will finally teach you how to be good. You watch the bob of his Adam's apple beneath the sun roughened skin of his throat, and when you look back up at his eyes, there is nothing like innocence, nothing like naivety in them, only the reflection of something complex, something more. He goes very still, almost vibrational with restraint, his fingers clench around you once, and then, with unbearable control, his hands flex open, releasing you. 

“Get in the house,” he says very, very quietly. You cup your own palm around the space of your chin where he’d gripped you and turn on your toes, scampering inside, into the home of the man who would have remained your father-in-law for the rest of your life had his son ever decided to love you. The door slams shut behind him. 

-

He steps into the dark restroom with a staying hand out and ready, as if approaching a wounded, rabid animal. 

His son, his son is a cruel and small man. Joel is coming to realize this with something like horror running in currents beneath his skin. Quick to anger, quick to aggression. And you, his daughter-in-law, no one knows this better than you do. He’d naively thought, when his fully grown son had appeared at his door steps all those months ago, that the question Joel had carried on the tip of his tongue for half of his adult life had finally been answered. Alone but never necessarily lonely, something like a film of boredom and monotony over his life. He was content with the place he’d made for himself; he had his business and his brother and friends, and Joel was fine. But a child of his own, he’d never expected it, never even considered it a possibility. And what he’d come to discover: his son, who shouldn’t still be a child, but in many ways, was. 

He licks at the groove of his molar as he watches the tremble of your back, trying to hide your weeping face in the shadows of the bathroom wall. A small, anxious thing that had been, out of everything, perhaps the biggest shock of all. To learn that he had a son, an entire life lost to time, and that there was someone in the world that his son should have loved enough to tie himself to – it was shocking. To discover that his son was married when Joel was not, disorienting. 

He says your name softly and watches the jerk of your frame, that vein of anxiety he’d sensed in you from the get go that he was fairly certain Sam had a large part in sowing. You’d shown up with your hair picked up today, only the second time you’ve ever worn it so. Piled messy at the top of your head, a few strands laying against the nape of your neck, the vulnerable slope of your shoulder. He feels strangely afraid of you, afraid for you. Unsure of what to say, heart beating out of his chest, rebounding against his ribcage so hard he’s sure you can hear it. “I’m sorry. He didn’t mean it. He–”

“Please, don’t apologize for him.” A tiny sniffle. “Don’t apologize for him,” you say again, and there’s a hum of exhaustion in your voice, brokenness, it makes Joel go from afraid to entirely terrified, but then angry too… angry too. He takes a step forward, another, he’s an arms length away from you now. He could touch you if he was brave enough. If the intent behind it wasn’t as wrong as it is. Angry because he’s looking at that vulnerable nape, imagining the fit of his palm molded over the delicate column, and you’re something to be taken care of. Something like a gift. Even though he doesn’t know you well enough to say such a thing yet, even though he shouldn’t be thinking such a thing about his daughter-in-law. Even though you hold yourself with a hard rigidness most of the time, quiet dignity and cold vulnerability that seem almost impossible to get through. And yet he suspects that with enough care and patience you could become immediately soft, easily penetrated. He should see his son as a gift, and he does, he does, he does, he swears he does. If Joel repeats it enough times in his mind surely he’ll come to believe it with his whole heart, but what he sees more than the gift of a child that was kept from him, is nothing but a boy beating down a creature that was not taught to defend itself. And that makes him angry beyond belief. 

Joel can be a hard man. He is a hard man. Perhaps, a large part of the reason why he’s still alone, why nothing more than a quick fuck ever seems to work out for him. Women like him, they enjoy his company, they come to bed with him easily. But Joel is hard and cold, and he’s never much minded his aloneness, a difficult thing to sell to a woman, the reality that he doesn’t really care to need anyone else. And so perhaps, this is his son’s inherited vice, that coldness, but despite Joel’s preference for solitude, for the fact that he doesn’t care about making a person stick around, he tries to never be cruel, and he is sure to never hurt those that are more easily hurt than himself. He doesn’t think there’s any worse sort of sin, and so he knows that this cruelty he’s witnessing didn’t come from him. But then he thinks that if it didn’t come from him, then it surely came as a consequence of him, of his absence, and so he is just as responsible for it. So he can’t help himself when, instead of more platitudes in favor of his gift of a son, he says: “You should leave him.” You let out a bitter sound of a laugh, something that pokes at that wound of fear of his. 

“Should I? I don’t think that’s what you’re supposed to say.”

“Isn’t it? It’s the truth. It’s what you need to hear right now,” The sweetheart he adds at the end has a tiny shiver moving down the length of your spine that his own vertebrae can’t help but imitate. You hang your head, bearing more of that lovely nape, head seemingly bowed in supplication for something gentler than what his son can offer you, and he can’t help himself again. He wants to sink his teeth into that soft expanse of skin. You’re too pretty, pretty in all the ways a perfect thing can be, and Joel is a hard man, not a weak one, but he feels weak now. He feels brought to his knees, heavy stone of guilt weighing in his gut as he lays his palm on the back of your bared neck. Don’t touch, don’t touch, don’t touch, this doesn’t belong to you. He tightens his hand, grips the column, presses the calluses of his palm to the soft skin. “Look at me–” he gruffs, turns you by the pressure of his hand, a kitten gripped by the scruff and made to listen. “You deserve more than that shit.” That shit being his son, his blood. Joel is two feet tall and so ashamed he’s nauseous. But your eyes, they look up at him, tear filled and so lost, and he wants to show you how it should be. “You deserve more,” he says again. Later, he’ll tell himself he surely must have said the words out loud, asked for it with teeth and tongue. The blame can only be his, he provoked it, he soothed the wound, incited it, because you’re surging up and against him, fingers clawing at his shoulders and throat and pressing your mouth to his, clumsy and tear stained and open so that the first thing he tastes is your breath on his tongue, then your tongue on his tongue, and then absolution tinged with shame, gross desire like desperation. He groans like a dying man, clutching at you immediately, unthinking, pulling you into himself, soft, full tits against hard chest so that he feels like he’s burning and dying and coming back to life all with the taste of your spit and tears in his mouth. He holds you steady, hand still clamped to the back of your neck and thinks that if he’s going to commit a sin he might as well take his fill. He eats at you. Head held in place, knees bent and arm banded around your waist to bring you level with each other, he pulls your head back, mouth open and tries to swallow you whole. And Joel doesn’t think of his son, not for a single second, while he kisses his daughter-in-law.

His lips slide to your throat, hunting for your pulse, tasting the tiny flutter, going weak at the knees at the whimpered sound you make, cock harder than it’s been in years, a noise like begging, like more. He sucks hard at that thrum, but your noises shift to frightened, protesting, fingers digging into his shoulders to warn him. He can’t leave marks, he can’t leave marks on something that belongs to another. His erection is an iron band down the leg of his jeans, and he has to force himself not to thrust the aching cock into the soft apex of your thighs, feel your warmth there. He has to stop, he has to– to what? To let you go back to a boy that mistreats you? Even if that boy is his son, it’s wrong, it goes against everything Joel is as a man. He presses his face into the blistering heat of your throat, a muttered fuck under the ledge of your little chin. A rattling shiver has started up in you, teeth chattering with the force of it, and he bands his arms around you tightly, pressing the air out of your lungs, hand smoothing up to twist in the back of your hair and force you entirely still. “Don’t,” his voice is so deep he almost doesn’t recognize it coming out of his own mouth, “Don’t be afraid.” The sound of his popping knees as he unbends to his full height, your weight still in his arms. He lets you go in increments, slowly so as not to jar you further, hands holding tight until the last moment when he forces them to unclench, let you go. “Don’t be afraid,” he says again. “You did nothing wrong. This was all me.” Your eyes are huge, but you’re not crying anymore, and that feels like victory to Joel, despite the rest, the only thing that matters.

You run from him after that, because of course you do. What’s the other option? That he’d keep you there in that dark restroom, from his son and your marriage and the world, forever? He clutches at his chest and is swallowed whole by his shame and his guilt, the terrible fear that he isn’t the sort of parent that can blindly see past their child’s faults, love them despite everything else, not the type of man who can keep himself from wanting something he shouldn’t, he hadn’t felt so when he’d kissed you with that sick desperation on his tongue. And once he hears the sound of a slamming car door, and Sam’s truck peeling out of the drive and speeding away, he takes out his hard cock and fucks his fist until the heat of his semen is sliding over his skin, a handful of pathetic strokes and the sound of your name almost like a sob in the dark.

-

You listen to the sound of his bare feet padding across the wooden floor, and your head feels like it’s breaking water, seeing clearly for the first time in years. It’s a rich parquet, gleaming in the dim light of the street lamp glow. You wonder if he installed it himself, like the wallpaper, proof of the care and attention to detail in his home. You think you would like to be cared for as such also. There’s a soft green throw draped over the back of the chocolate leather couch, and you dig your fingers into it, twisting amidst the knitted weave as you turn to face him, and he has that look in his eyes again, the one from before. The one like too much, too much, the one like fear and want. Stopping just in front of you, the tips of his bare toes meet the front of your shoes, and he reaches to drag the pad of his thumb over the high slope of your cheekbone, the fine skin catching beneath his calluses. “You’re too beautiful,” he says, and you wish it sounded like an accusation, but it doesn't, and you want to tell him you don’t believe him, just to be difficult, just to be contrary, but you know he’s not the sort of man that lies. It only sounds like praise. His eyes are so dark in the shadow of the house, the green and brown and caramel striations gone away in the night, and he’s shifting his jaw, chewing on a thought before he spits it out. His other hand comes up to gently, so gently cup the other side of your face, and he holds you there, just so, angling you this way and that, appraising you, chewing, chewing slowly. “Too beautiful – I never even stood a chance,” he says more to himself than to you. This is a man that does things with intention. This is a man that sees you as a complexity, as something more. This is a man. “He told me something – last time we saw each other.” Your heart beats painfully in your chest, you can feel it in your eyes and ears and the backs of your knees.

“What’s that?”

“That the two of you were havin’ problems. In– in the bedroom. That–”

You try and jerk away, but he holds you trapped. “Stop. Please. Don’t–”

“Is that all this is? Older man – want me to teach you somethin’?”

Cradled as you are, you close your eyes, brow folding in a frown, unable to refute him with a shake for the way he’s captured you. You bring your own hand up to circle his thick wrist, fingers not meeting around it. He has hair here, your palm slides further down, hair here too. All man, man, man. No longer in the hands of a boy, and you’re touching him. Now you’re touching him too. “That very first time I met you– I wondered what you’d taste like. How heavy you’d be inside of me. If you’d be rough, leave marks, or gentle. You know I– I wanted– If he hadn’t been there, if–” Now he’s the one that begs you to stop. 

His hands on you are tighter now, almost strangling, squeezing a moan out of you. “Are you going to tell him?” His grip goes loose again, caressing. “ If we do this– are you going to use this against him? It’s yours to do with as you will, I just want to know beforehand. It won't change the way I have you tonight.”

“Only tonight?” Your voice sounding strange, hungry. 

His eyes move entirely around your face, taking you in, held as you are. His gaze is manic, fevered, but his words are slow, stacked one on top of the other for you. “No. No, I don’t think it’ll only be tonight.”

“I’m not going to use this against him.” For the first time in two years, what you’re doing, the decisions you’re making, have nothing to do with your ex-husband. This is only for you. Joel is only for you. 

“Tell me what you want,” he asks for the last time. 

“To be good,” you finally say, and the rough sound he makes, the flush you can faintly see crawling up the column of his throat, it has a painful knot of want tightening your cunt, the wet drip of slick pooling in your panties, all hot and bruised feeling on the inside. 

He lets his hands slide slowly from your face to hang loosely by his sides, and you take it as your invitation to touch him as you like now. He’s so much taller than you, your neck craning back to look up at his face. You start there, the crest of his cheek, the strong, curved nose, plush mouth that looks specifically made for kissing a cunt until it cries. He makes your thoughts feel savage, he makes you feel like something you’ve never been before. “You’re just a little girl, aren’t you?” He says softly. Your hands move down to his thick neck, and you try and cage him there, hands too small to circle him entirely, the insinuation of a strangling. Too small, too small, too small. You shake your head, mesmerized by the contradiction of your small fragility trying to capture all that strength held inside of him. You look up at his eyes, holding him around the throat as you are, and shake your head. You’re not. “Then what are you?”

“I don’t know. I want you to show me.” And that does something to him. You see the change come over him in that very moment, something chimeral in the change your words provoke. He’s made of nothing but vibrational restraint, giving you your moment of peace to explore him as you need to before he takes you for himself. You’re almost certain you can hear the sound of him grinding his molars to dust inside his mouth. And you want him to show you, it’s the truth. As wrong or whatever it is that it may be, it’s your truth. You’d always felt like you’d done being a woman the wrong way, a grating way, an unappealing way, but you didn’t want to be unappealing or wrong. You only wanted to be yourself. And worst of all, you’d been made to feel like that, over and over again, by the man who should have done nothing but the opposite. And you know it might be bad now, to want to be shown or that there was no right way, but still, but still, you want it. You would still like for someone, for Joel, to teach you how to be better, how to be good. Was that really so bad?

Your hands slide down to the thick muscles of his chest, thumbs dipping into the dents of his collarbones, lower to the soft of his belly, the edge of his jeans. The both of you are trembling now, you in lust, desperation, him in restraint maybe. There are beads of sweat dampening the curls at his temples. “We shouldn’t do this.”

“Do you think so?”

He nods, but he’s cupping your elbows in his big hands anyway, pulling you towards him so that your breasts graze the top of his belly. “But we’re doin’ it anyway.” You go up on your tiptoes, hand cupping the sharp edge of his jaw to pull him down towards you, and he’s like a leashed wolf; heavy, hot breaths fanning across your face, and he slowly does as you bid, mint, mixed with something sharp like whiskey. He’s watching you so intently, watching to see what you’ll do with him, but your eyes are only on that soft wet mouth. You want his tongue inside of you, and that first press is so, so soft, barely there. A sound like dying, you can’t tell who it comes from, another soft brush, and you’re taking his top lip between both of yours, sucking on it lightly, hands snaking over his thick shoulders to bring yourself up closer so that he’s finally wrapping his arms around you, pressing you tightly to himself, belly to belly. He still hasn’t closed his eyes, he’s still watching you, and your heart is beating so fast and so hard and you want this so much that you’re sure he can feel it reverberating into his own chest cavity, spurring his own beating muscle on. You press another tiny kiss to his full, open mouth. “I’m scared,” you whisper onto his tongue, and he smoothes a staying hand down your spine, settling over the curve of your ass and squeezing there, holding you in his snare. He’s barely even touched you, and yet, you already know that no one else has ever been like this. 

“That’s alright. Got nothin’ to be scared of – I’m gonna be so gentle with you, baby.”

“I’m not your baby,” hint of an obstinate, provoking whine in your voice.

“But that’s what you are.” He changes the angle of his descent, and now he’s the one moving in for another tiny kiss. “Just a little baby.”

“And I don’t want it gentle.”

“You’ll take it how I say. How ‘bout that?” Another kiss, and now the taste of his tongue. You’d never forgotten it, the slick, hot slide of it, from that other time. He licks into you, takes away your ability to talk. In a single blink of an eye, less than a second’s thought, he’s taken all control from you, made the game his own, and now you’ve finally gotten what you’d come here for. Now you can finally say it out loud. He wraps a massive fist around the length of your hair and eats at your mouth, makes it his more than it’s ever been yours. All tongue and teeth and wet spit, the sound of his pleasure for you vibrating in your ears, and there is it, the pressure of his hard cock as he slides his hand lower, between your legs to feel the heat and damp of the pussy that’s wet only for him, pulls you further into himself. The heft of the bulge has you whining and squirming in his hold, clawing at his shoulders and the skin of his neck to climb up the length of him, get closer, get more. You want that cock, you want it inside of you, filling you with its weight and its come. You’ve wanted it from the first time you’d met him as his daughter-in-law, standing beside his son in the place of his wife. You’d wanted his cock more than you’d ever wanted his sons, and you’re only ashamed that you’re not ashamed at all. And he tastes that desperation on you, nips at your lip with a gruff settle, a little yank of your hair to tug your head back and unlatch his mouth from yours, sliding in a wet trail to your neck, settle, settle. He bites at the line of your throat, hard. Sucks even harder, leaves a mark, leaves a claim he wasn’t able to last time. The deeply rumbled sound that comes from him attests to his intention and your answering, whimpered mewl is nothing but a cry for more; I know, baby, I know, he whispers into your ear. His mouth moves down your chest, pulling the already stretched neck of your pullover wider to nuzzle at the deep groove of your cleavage. You want to ask him if he’s worried, guilty, if he’s wanted you for as long as you wanted him, if he was hard when you kissed him that night in his little wallpapered restroom, but then the heat of his mouth is clamping around your nipple and sucking, wetting the fabric of your top with his tongue, biting down at your breast, the sharp of his teeth clamping down around your sensitive flesh, nothing but your soft sleep bra beneath to protect you. You yank hard at his messy curls, trying to pull his punishing teeth away and pull yourself closer, all at the same time. His eyes flash up to yours, mouth latched at your breast, cheeks hollowing as he takes a hard, wet pull and there’s laughter in his gaze, hot and bright and infectious. “I’ll be gentle, but I’m not gonna be nice, baby.” He nuzzles into the wet spot left behind, presses another kiss, soft and conciliatory now over your throbbing nipple. “You want me to be nice? Want me to be nice to this little pussy?” He rubs the flat of his fingers over that desperate place between your legs as he turns to walk the two of you back towards the front of the sofa. There’s no response to be given, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. He turns to sit, pulling you to remain standing between his spread thighs, hands wrapped around your hips. “Gotta use your words, pretty baby. I wanna hear what you want.”

“I want whatever you want. I want it however you want it,” you say through your flush and your shyness. You want to be honest, not a liar here in this moment with him. 

He lets his head fall forward to rest against your lower belly, nuzzles there, and you hear his whispered, Jesus, fuck, before he pulls back to look up at you, drags his palms down the back of your legs all the way to your ankles, nudging your shoes and socks off, and then sliding all the way back up, scratchy calluses making you shiver until he reaches the edge of your shorts and tucks the tips of his fingers there. “Take your shirt off,” he says gently, and you only pause for a second of timidity before you’re pulling it over your head, left only in your soft pink sleep bra not intended for the eyes of ex-father-in-law’s you’ve come to seduce. Your shyness flushes higher, burning your face, sprouting beads of embarrassed sweat at the nape of your neck. He untucks his fingers from the waistband of your shorts, smoothing his palms up the slopes of your curves, thumbs dragging up the plane of your belly, dipping into the dent of your navel to reach up and squeeze your breasts tight in his big hands, then pulls the straps down over your shoulders, the bra down over the curves of your breasts to leave them bare and heavy. And his eyes never leave yours as he gets you naked for himself, fingers sliding down your sides now to pull your shorts and panties and the scrunched bra down, the flush in his face deepening, heightening even though he’s yet to look at you. Don’t be scared, he whispers again, shaking his head a little when you wrap your arms around your breasts, trying to hide yourself away from him. When he’s taken your shorts from you, gripping each ankle to help you step out of their circle, he finally looks at you, takes in the entire bare expanse of your naked body, gently prying your arms from your breasts. “Lemme see, lemme see, you’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby.” He runs his hands all over you, the slope of your belly, lifts the weights of your tits in his palms to let them fall and sway heavily, down the outsides of your thighs and back up and around to squeeze the lush of your ass. He pulls you further towards him with that clutch on you and presses his nose into the apex of your thighs, nuzzles at the soft thatch of curls there, brings his thumb up to pet at it and breathes deep. “I like this – so pretty,” he tells you again. If it was possible for a person to die of shyness you surely would in this moment, but this was what you’d come here for, this was what you hadn’t been able to say out loud. He presses his nose there again, takes another deep breath, and then starts to mouth wetly, pressing soft kisses and then the wet of his tongue, licking and parting at your slick seam. He groans so deep it sends you to shivering, hands coming up to cover your face, to hide away from that sound of lust, the feral look in his eyes when he looks up at you with the taste of your cunt in his mouth. He starts to lap at you in earnest, closing his eyes in sheer enjoyment as he pets at your clit with his tongue, shifting his angle this way and that to get at you more deeply. He pulls one of your feet up onto the edge of the sofa to open you, and you’re jostled forward, catching yourself on his broad shoulder as he spreads and eats you. His hand on your ass shifts lower, searching for your opening from behind and starts to pet at you there too so that he’s coming at you from the front and the back, and it’s too much, his sucking mouth and probing fingers. Your standing leg buckles, and he’s forced to pull his mouth from you, steady you. You let your knees give out slowly, coming to a folded kneel between his legs. He leans forward, mouth glossy with your slick and pulls your face to his, chin pinched between his fingers to kiss you, and the taste of you on his tongue sets something off within you.

Suddenly, your shy insecurity doesn't really matter as much with the flavor of your pussy on his tongue. You surge up on your knees, pressing closer to him, pulling him to you with your arms twisted around his neck, moaning into his mouth as you taste the sweet muskiness on his tongue. Like kindling catching fire in your veins you start to claw at him, pulling at his clothes, his hair, scratching at his skin. He half pulls you up and on top of him, your steaming hot form, entirely bare and naked on top of his clothed one. You can feel the heft of his cock against your belly, grinding there, trying to find whatever friction possible, and he makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat, pushing you back down onto the floor and pulling back to open his jeans. He’s panting and sweating, chest heaving and cheeks flushed a bright red. He wants you just as much as you want him. And it’s bad, it’s bad and wrong to compare, God knows, but when he finally pulls his cock out, he’s not wearing anything beneath his jeans, you know that this is a man unlike your husband ever was; long and thick, fucking big, swollen, flushed tip peaking out from soft surrounding skin, leaking a clear slick of drool. He takes it out and sits back, pushing his hips forward to settle into his seat and stretches his long legs on either side of you. You listen to the sound of the scooting coffee table as he shoves it back with his foot. His cock arches obscenely from his open jeans, and you reach up slowly, a little intimidated, to circle it with your fingers delicately. “You’re so hard,” you whisper. 

He drags a gentle hand over the crown of your head, pulling the hair tie from your ponytail as he goes. “This is how much I want you. This is all you.” He circles his big hand around your much smaller one, squeezes his big cock tighter with both of your hands, and you flush with a pleasure so intense it’s almost painful. You can make a man hard, the proof is right here in front of you. 

He’s uncut, and that’s doubly intimidating. “I’ve never seen one like that,” he pulls your hand up slowly with his, squeezes and twists hard at the sticky wet tip. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he croons, looking down at you with a maniacal sort of glint in his eyes. “Just open your mouth,” he wraps his other hand around your jaw, “You don’t need to see it if it’s inside you,” wedges his fingers between your molars over the skin of your cheeks, prying your mouth open. You bend your head forward, tongue hanging out, and he taps the heavy weight of his cock there, jostles the wet tip slightly from side to side, the wet sticky sound of it has your pussy clenching around terrible emptiness. He slides his hand up your cheek, twists his fingers through your hair and directs you how he wants you, slides his cock further back on your tongue, and you wrap your lips around him, give him your first real suck, tongue swirling gently around the fat head. Pulling back with a sharp hollowing of your cheeks, he squeezes his fist around yours almost painfully, and you press an open mouthed kiss at the spongey tip, gently tonguing the slit, lapping at it with the flat of your tongue like a little kitten. The sight of you licking his dick has him groaning, bearing the white line of his teeth at you. 

“You taste so good,” you say up at him with big wet eyes, “Like I always imagined you would.”

“Fuck–” he snarls, “Killin’ me,” and he’s jerking you up off the floor roughly, pulling your knees apart to settle you in a straddle on his lap, pressing you close with a hand on your ass so that the wet heat of your cunt is meeting the heat of his cock. The both of you groan like it hurts, like you’ve been waiting for this for longer than is right, and he pulls your mouth back to his, wet and messy, sucking on your tongue, gripping your hair so tightly, your eyes smart and water. You claw at his shirt, pulling it up, trying to get at his skin, and he pulls back suddenly, frustratedly ripping it over his head, and then coming back to your mouth, single minded in his dedication to having the taste of you on his tongue. You try and grind down on him, but he hitches you up higher so your breasts are level with his face. “This’ll be over ‘fore it’s even begun if we’re not careful,” he laughs as he settles you, cunt leaking against his stomach and turning the hair there sticky sweet with your slick, and slots his hand between your thighs, gives you something to rub yourself against while he kisses you. “Oh, baby, you’ve got the wettest little cunt,” he says between kisses, lips sliding down to suck at your neck, lifting your breast to his mouth to lick and bite at your swollen nipple. 

And past sense, past restraint, you beg: “I want your cock, please, I want it so badly.” 

“Nuh uh,” he grunts, “Not yet. You’re not ready.”

You whine and beg that you are, you promise you are, but he only sucks at your tits harder, presses his hand harder between your thighs, and you can literally hear the wet squelch of your pussy as you ride his palm, your clit grinding against his belly on the forward slide as you work yourself up into a frenzy, wet whimpers and a pathetic little tear or two slipping out in your frustration to come. Need you nice and soft to take me, sweetheart, he murmurs into the tender skin beneath your chin, but he decides to be kind, crooking his finger just so that it brushes up against your clit, setting off a shivery little orgasm fluttering through your belly. He laughs softly, humoring the silly little thing wiggling around in his lap that’s so desperate to come, decides to be kinder halfway through your orgasm and starts to slowly press a single thick finger into your hungry, clenching hole. Shit, you hear his curse, while you moan and cry into his shoulder, mouthing and biting at the sun freckled golden skin there, gnawing on him like some rabid thing. And then he says, a little teasing: “Just from this, huh? Just from a little wiggling around on daddy’s lap?” sending a wash of agonized relief through you as he wedges a second one of those thick, thick fingers inside to stretch you further. It’s what you’d wanted to call him from the first moment. Just one more thing said out loud. You nod your head against his shoulder, a whine and a breath and daddy, daddy, daddy, as he stretches you; make that sound again, he begs and pets and coos at you, yes, yes, I could come from that sound alone, gives you all the patience you’d always needed. “Look at all this slick you’ve made to take my big cock in your little cunt, baby. What a good girl you are.” He twists his wrist, fucks space into you with his fingers, “You’re so fuckin’ tiny – how’re you gonna take me in this little thing, huh?” He bites down on your soft breast, encourages the sway of your hips with his fingers hooked inside of you. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit,” presses a kiss to your forehead, scratchy beard against the sensitive skin there, gently stroking you into another orgasm around his fingers, petting at something raw and bruised feeling inside of you, sending you to tears. 

He pulls his fingers from you slowly once you’re done, leaving your body to tighten and gape around terrible emptiness, and you feel the wet smear of your come on your asscheek where he grips you, searches and pets your asshole to slick it with your wet. “You want daddy to fix you?” He says then, “Want me to make you all better? S’what you want, right?”

You nod slowly, sniffle, “Make me good,” you mumble into his neck. 

“But you’re already good,” and he takes away all your choices, the ability to argue or refute, “You’re already so good. A perfect, gorgeous girl.” Kindling in your veins, madness, something more desperate than anything else you’ve ever felt in your entire life, true hunger. Worse than your desire for your father to understand you, to love you, to not be angry, your fight to keep a husband that would have never stayed. You reach for his cock, trying to impale yourself on it blindly, shifting to press the hot, blunt head at your wet opening. He moans like a dying man, “Wait– wait, lemme get a condom.” He sounds like he’s begging. 

“No, please, now.”

“Fuck– fuck, you’re so eager to jump on my bare cock without a rubber or anything.” But it’s only because no one has ever touched you like this, and when he grips the thick root of his cock and notches it as your cunt, pushes inside slowly, you realize he’s doing it in a way that makes you understand the difference between the man and the boy. 

“I need to feel your skin,” you sound like you’re begging now too. Sighing in relief when he starts to stretch you, when it starts to hurt. It’s slow going, fitting the largeness of his body into your much smaller one. But his hands are steady and soothing as he works you down another inch, another, let’s you fuck yourself on his cock. Murmured praises and all of his desire for you and yeah, just like that, take daddy’s cock, until he’s fully seated inside of you, holds you down, presses and grinds there, thick tip made fatter by his foreskin kissing your cervix. Finally, he pulls you back by the hair, and your father-in-law’s cock is inside of you. “Want you to look at me while I teach you how to fuck– how to take a cock,” because he knows, because he’s always known, had the gross ability to read you exactly as you are. He shifts his hips back, presses up, up, up, inside of you, and his eyes are so beautiful, and he teaches you how to take a cock, not a little girl now, only a woman. You wrap your arms around his neck, kiss his face, lick his tongue, nibble on his ears, feel him all over, he’s all over and everywhere, and it should maybe be humiliating, riding the cock that made the man that was your husband, it should feel wrong or something like a sin, but it only feels, instead, like it was made for you. Like this is where you should have been all along. Once you’ve adjusted, he grips your hips tight and harsh, makes your skin smart enough you know you’ll have bruises in the shapes of his fingers and pounds up into you, the slick slide of your cunt sucking him deeper, taking him as hard as he wants to give it to you, swollen and sensitive, squeezes your ass and grunts and moans and says, yeah, baby, bounce on this fat cock, like it’s the only thing you’d ever have to do for the rest of your life. You wish it was. And the sounds he makes, that’s what really makes you come again, what sets off your orgasm while you’re riding him – the desperate, rough sounds of a man fucking up into a tight, hot cunt that’s wet only for him. It coils in you so tight it hurts, it hurts, and then goes loose and fluttery, pussy flooding around his thrusting length. You can’t even moan, mouth hanging open, proably drooling a little, probably crying a little, nothing but hot air and wet and not a little girl anymore, only a woman, and he doesn’t gentle, fucks you harder, rougher, squeezes your ass and chases his own orgasm. His thrusts going sloppy and uneven, his moans turning to cracked whimpers. 

“I’m not on birth control… but– but my period’s soon,” you whisper into his ear, and he makes a noise not wholly human, going still for a moment, throbbing inside you, thinking, thinking of the risk, decides he doesn’t give a fuck by the murmured,  fuck it, I have to, and starts to move again, harder, hurting on every punch up against the mouth of your womb. I have to, is what he says, and that settles something inside of you. “Gonna come in this pretty, tight cunt. Gonna make it all mine.” You decide you don’t really give a fuck either. “Make daddy come. Squeeze down on daddy’s cock – yeah, just like that. You wanted to play at being the big girl? Now m’gonna treat you like one – gonna fuck you full, baby.” And you’re nothing but want and yes and please and thank you, daddy. And that first spurt, that hurts too, burns you, changes something inside of you that you know will never go back to the way it was before. You’ll want that hurt for the rest of your life, and you won’t ever be able to forget it, and it might be the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, but the heat of it spurs on another small orgasm of your own, jars you with the swell and throb of his cock, fills you till the come from your cunt is leaking down onto his slick balls and the leather beneath. And he holds you through the whole thing, stroking and squeezing and tasting, taking sips of your mouth, pressing his breath back into you, breathing life into you. No longer a ghoul in the night either. You feel him go soft and yet still heavy inside, a muted bruise against your womb, sighing frequently as you settle, little kittenish sounds that have his spent cock stirring lazily inside of you while you leak and leak and leak and go drowsy and then just on this side of fully asleep. 

“Are you okay?” You remember to ask in a small voice while his fingers play gently in the wet where you’re connected. 

He makes a soft sound, like he’s humoring you, like you’ve surprised him. “Course I’m okay,” presses a kiss to your forehead. 

When he shifts you off of him to stand, a protesting whine at the back of your throat, he shucks his jeans off with a soft grunt, finally as naked as you’ve been the whole time, and his cock hangs heavy between his legs, shiny with your cunt as you stare up at him while he looks down at you. Afraid for a brief uncertain second before he’s lifting you in his arms, and when he carries you to his bed after, you feel terribly like a child. Again that naivety, that hope, but it isn't a bad thing, here and now with him. Not something to be used against you, not a bruise or a wound or a lost limb, and you haven’t failed at being good because he’s already made you so. 

-

You’re pressed right up beneath his chin when he wakes up. Your soft, warm form all along his side, lush tits and the vulnerable slope of your belly against his skin, and it feels so intimate, entirely twined around him as you are. He brings his palm up to cup the small bowl of your skull, and in the hushed morning light, your mistake breathes life into the world. Joel has always been a hard man. Joel has always been a hard man, but never weak, and certainly, not good, per se, but never cruel. But there’s something like weakness, there’s something that should be like cruelty here, waking up with you bare, still leaking his spend in his bed, and Joel can’t tell if that weakness, that cruelty is his, born of him or of his own making, he only knows that it should be here, probably is here. It’s difficult to gauge the moral acumen of what he should or should not be feeling when he has you like this beside him. And most confusing of all, that it actually feels nothing like a mistake. Only like it was always meant to happen, and now it finally has. 

He’d come inside of you, worst of all, sense gone away in the night, couldn’t claim exemption from weakness now, filled you until you’d leaked down his balls, the woman who’d been the wife of his son, and he should feel guilty, he should feel disgusted with himself. A betrayer of his own child. But all he feels is that he needs it again. That he needs you again. That if he could, he’d keep you. 

Joel had never wanted children. The thought or desire had never really crossed his mind… and yet– You make a sweet little keening sound in your throat right before you open your eyes, and he feels the stretch and wiggle of your little toes against his shins, the flutter of your long lashes against the tip of his chin. “Good morning.” Soft hand coming up to cover his mouth, hold him in place while you wiggle and slither all over him. 

“How do you feel?” He’d expected you to be shy, regretful, nervous waking up, and to find you entirely not, to get to wake up to you like this, soft and warm and lovely in his bed smelling of his come and his sweat, smiling that pretty little smile; it’s the mightiest sort of victory. You drape yourself on top of him, all soft limbs and softer tits, and the heat of your cunt pressed against his belly as you nuzzle into his chest hair. You’re different now, compared to before, that exhaustion he’d sensed is closer to the surface now, more easily visible, as if your body’s been collecting it, pulling it from the depths of you, getting ready to finally expel it. But there’s a clarity about you now too, you’re tired, but you’re also more yourself. Or on your way there. So lovely it hurts, vulnerable and fragile but entirely yourself. Afraid too, he can tell, because it’s your right to be afraid, because it’s normal, because we’re all afraid sometimes. “Sore?” Another nuzzle, and then, settling on your cheek to look up at him with those gorgeous eyes that’d damned him from the very first moment. 

“Just a little.”

“You did so well last night,” he pets your hair slowly. “You took me so well. I’m so proud of you.” And oh, you like that. Blooming, the temperature in your body seeming to spike suddenly, suffusing all your limbs, radiating from your belly. Shifting and squirming on top of him. His half hard erection, trapped between the two of you, aching already, and you try and rub yourself all along its length, hitching a knee up by his hip to open yourself. He gives you a rough sound to settle, but you want something from him now, trying to rub your wet pussy all over him. If he was younger, a man of less control, he’d be fucking into you already and without thought. “It’s time for listening now, little girl.” He grips your hair tightly, tilting your face up to look at him, uncurls his fingers to cup the small bowl of your skull and hold you in place. “Sometimes people need time, sometimes they need us to be patient with them, wait for them. That’s what you needed, and there ain’t anything wrong with that. And you’re not gonna feel bad or less for getting there a little more slowly than others. Everything comes in its due time, and that’s okay.” You’re staring up at him, wide eyed, something like fear or panic, but you’re going to listen to him if it’s the last thing he does. He fists your hair again, gently forces your head into a nod. “Agree with me now. Say yes.”

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper very softly, pressing up to peck him lightly on the mouth. He catches you by the nape, a kitten picked up by the scruff, and holds you there, immediately turns the kiss wet and savage. You feel, so much, like you’re his, and this terrifies Joel. You aren’t his to keep, he knows this. He is not unaware of what’s happening here, of the consequences. He is not delusional about how this will end. But still, but still, you feel like his. 

You’re back to you’re squirming now, whines and pleading moans as you try and rub yourself against his cock, and he reaches down to cup you, gently fingering at your folds, feeling the havoc he’d wrought on your pussy last night. “You’re so swollen, baby. Can’t fuck you again so soon.”

“Please, daddy, please, please. I can take it, I promise.”

“Not gonna hurt my soft little cunt.” The start of another whine, but he cuts you off, gives you a staying look, cranes his neck to lick into your mouth. “I’m not.”

“I want you so badly. I want you to make me come.” Tiny kisses and kitten licks to his jaw and throat. There’s fire in his belly, cock throbbing something fierce. He grips beneath your knee, opens your leg and pulls back to slot his cock between your thighs, up against your slick, swollen cunt, then presses your thighs closed back together tightly. 

“Just like this – how ‘bout that?” He says as he starts to thrust up slowly against your pussy, trying to keep his movements gentle, careful not to hurt you. He runs his palms along the length of you, squeezes your tits and pinches and plucks at your swollen, sucked dark nipples. The signs of him are all over your body, and it makes him something like wild, infuses him with something like madness. Joel has never felt like this about any woman, ever. And to have it be you – to have this happen to him with you, there is something like weakness and like cruelty here. He needs to keep his head on straight. Remember what can and cannot be. He squeezes your ass tightly, digs his short-shorn fingernails into your soft cheeks, brings one hand up to get his fingertips spit slick, and then pulls your cheeks apart again to pet at your asshole. His gut goes tight and fire hot, he wants to fuck you here too. He wants all of you to be only his, his, fucking his. You hitch your hips in a desperate little arc as he presses gently on the tight ring of muscle, teasing you. “You like that?” He gruffs. “Want me to fill your little ass too, sweet girl?”

Yes, daddy, and he’s sure those must be the greatest words ever uttered to any man in all history. 

“You make the prettiest sounds,” he says while you sing and moan for him. “When I touch you like this,” he moves down to the wet mouth of your cunt, taps on it gently, “And like this,” further, a flutter at your clit while he fucks between your thighs, “And the way you cry when you come for me,” back up to press at your asshole again. “Will you do it for me again?” Christ, he’s going to end up taking you if he doesn’t stop, and he will not hurt you. With a rough sound of frustration, he flips the two of you over suddenly, laying you flat, kneeing your thighs open wide and spread for him. He shakes his head down at you, squeezes his eyes shut because the sight of your bare tits and messy hair and swollen lips, cock hungry blurry eyes, isn’t helping his restraint. “Gotta stop provokin’ me.”

“But it’s so fun, daddy,” you whine, arching to brush your breasts up against his chest. He lets his head fall, opens his mouth wide and takes the whole, heavy weight of your tit into his mouth, sucks hard, bites soft, switches to the other one, gives it the opposite. He pulls back then, going to his knees between your spread thighs and holds you open for inspection. Cunt all red and swollen and shiny with slick just for him. He’s sure if he pressed his fingers inside he’d be able to feel the slippery slide of his semen still. Another shake of his head, and he runs his palms down the soft of your thighs, cups the round of your knees in his palms. You jerk the right one back when he squeezes you there, and he fingers the sore spot, “What’s this from?” bends forward to press a soft kiss to the small hurt. 

“I was in a rush last night,” you say shyly. 

“Rush for what, silly girl? I was right here waitin’ for ya.” Your face does a little spasm at that, confused and vulnerable and then maybe even a little hurt, brow crumpling, and you squeeze your eyes shut. When they spring open again, they’re feverish, “Please, please, fuck me, Joel. Please, I don’t care if it hurts. I don’t–”

“Quit.” He pinches the inner slope of your thigh. “Not gonna convince me to hurt you.” You moan, frustrated and wanton, on the verge of tears, petulant and trying to twist away from him, but he traps you in place, stretches himself over you, propped up by one thick arm, and you drag your palms all down the length of his chest and belly. He squeezes your jaw with his other hand, pries you wide, “Open, lemme see.” He tilts your face this way and that, inspecting the wet gleam of your mouth, your little tongue and shiny, white teeth. 

“Wha’re y’lookin’ for?” You mumble with your jaw wedged open, eyes comically large. 

“Hmm, wonderin’ what it’d look like filled with my come,” he says with a laugh. He feels like a teenage boy, all the excitement of discovering sex with a woman for the first time. And it makes his stomach hurt a little bit, his heart pinch in fear. He sticks his fingers in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, widening the angle, “You think my cock’ll fit in that little throat?” And you moan, eyes fluttering shut, writhing beneath him, begging for it, a garbled groan that sounds something like please, let’s find out. “Dunno… should we?” He let’s go of your face, goes back to his kneeling position between your legs, and finally gives his aching cock the relief of his fist squeezing tightly around it. He could come just from the sight of you, he’s sure, is just there on the edge already. He squeezes hard, almost painful at the root, sliding up dry, scratchy calluses catching at the soft skin around his head to make it hurt and sting, strangling the heat he feels pooling at the base of his spine and in his balls. He smiles at the memory of your wide, comically shocked eyes when you’d realized he was uncircumcised. I’ve never seen one like that before, and all he’d stupidly wanted to say was that you’d never see any other ever again. Ridiculous. 

He drags his thumb over the head of his cock, through the sticky drool of precum there, then reaches to pet through your slick soaked folds, parting you down the middle. You watch him with wide, wet eyes, as he pops his thumb into his mouth, humming around your combined tastes. “You wanna taste how good we are?” All you’re able to manage is an open mouthed nod. He leans forward and over you again, “Open,” he orders, and spits onto your waiting tongue, hand clamped around her jaw. “Close now – swallow. How’s that taste?” He asks when you obey so nicely. Your eyes flutter shut, jaw shifting from side to side as you savor the taste of your shared want for each other. 

“S’good. Want more.” You look back up at him, mouth open, and nothing in his whole life has been scarier than this. Not even a twenty something year old son, who should have been a man, but was still nothing but a child in such desperate need of his father, showing up on his doorstep one day out of the blue. There should be guilt in that Sam-shaped spot inside his chest, he’s sure of it, and maybe there is, maybe there’s a bitter ribbon of guilt threaded all the way through him, but it’s also entirely overpowered, overshadowed by the desire he feels for the little girl splayed out beneath him. He pulls back again, tries to temper the rising heat in his core, takes hold of his cock again and starts to slowly jack himself. “Finger that little pussy, lemme see. Be gentle with her.” But he grips your hand right as your fingertips are about to make contact with your glossy folds and brings them to his mouth, spit slicking them, there you go, before giving them back. You play in your wet, watching mesmerized as he slowly jerks himself off to the sight of you, circling your swollen clit, thrumming at it gentle, gentle, be soft with her, petting at the leaking mouth, winking at him, begging to be filled. He shifts closer, squeezing and twisting at his tip, pulling the skin back to make the bulbous dark head bulge. He wants it to hurt, he deserves for it to hurt. You watch the rough handling of himself like you’ve never seen anything like it before, head tilted on your neck so your cheek is squished against your shoulder to get a clear view of what he’s doing to himself. “You want it so bad,” he teases, and you nod, looking back up at his eyes. He shifts forward a little closer so that the backs of his knuckles are brushing up against your sex now, wet and sticky, and you let your fingers trail up his wrist, his forearm, while he quickens his pace, moves against you, over himself. You spread yourself a little wider, bringing your knees up higher to your chest, opening yourself for him, and he pulls his hips back a little, you want to come, he can see it in your eyes, you’re almost there, presses the tip to your wet clit, slides down the to the hungry mouth, circles, circles there, presses just a tiny bit. You’re nodding your head up at him, goading him on, please, please, just do it, please. “Not gonna,” he gruffs. “Not gonna convince me.”

“You’re so mean,” you cry, arching your hips, writhing, trying to find firmer pressure. 

“Didn’t I tell ya last night I wasn’t gonna be nice?” But he takes pity on you, presses the fat head just a little harder, gives you just the tip, grinding breathlessly against it, popping it in and out of your hot little cunt. “Better?” His whole body feels like one boiling vat of hot blood, sweaty and desperate, grunting, more animal than a man. “Gotta come just like this.” He quickens the jerk of his fist, bumping it into your clit on the slide forward, watches the stretch of your cunt taking just the first inch of him. He feels unhinged, thinks for one second of just fucking all the way in, hearing the sound of your cry as you take the hurt. He has to be able to do this all again, entirely, have you again the whole way “God, baby,” he groans, “You’re gonna let me fuck this tiny little pussy again, right? Tell me you’re going to let me fill it with my cock again?”

Please, please, daddy. Please. “Just do it now.” Joel doesn’t think he’s ever heard anything like the sound of you begging for his cock, anything as pretty, ever. “I– I need to–”

“I know what you need, baby. Just let daddy put his come in you, and then I’ll take care of you.” He’s just there, one last harsh squeeze and twist, and there’s warmth flooding his cock and balls as he starts to come for you, covering the entirety of your sex with his white milky spend, groaning like he’s dying. He pulls his hand from his spent cock, smearing his semen into your skin, little begging whimpers of his name and daddy, please from your mouth, and he spreads your legs and lowers his mouth to your swollen sex, eats his own come out of your cunt, pressing two fingers inside, slow and gentle as he can, to give you something to bear down on. He laps softly at your clit, soothing the ache, eats you until you’re going tight as a fist, cunt sucking his fingers as deep as it can and gushing all over his face, slick pooling in his palm where he laps and slurps at it when he’s unlatched his mouth from your pulsing clit. 

“I don’t think I can stay away from you,” he tells you later, while he dresses you slowly, sits you on the bathroom counter and brushes your teeth for you with his own toothbrush and combs the knots and gnarls out of your hair. Holds your cheek cupped in the palm of his hand as he drags a warm washcloth over your sweaty face. 

“Don’t want you to stay away,” you say in a small voice as you paw at his chest, twisting his t-shirt in little grabby fingers, pulling him into the cradle of your hips with sharp heels at the small of his back; needy, needy, needy thing. And worst of all, a sick part of him, something bitter sitting heavily on his tongue, wants to be the thing you need, the thing you’re desperate for, the thing you cry those pretty tears for. He’s weak now, he is. Joel finds in himself that he does have the capacity to be a weak man when the moment demands it of him. He shucks the washcloth into the sink, cups your face in his hands like something precious. He’d said once you were a gift, he’s sure of this now more than ever. 

And he tells you, because he knows he must: “We can fuck, but we’re not allowed to fall in love,” and tells himself that he only imagines the glint of defiance in your eyes when he says it. 

- That meeting in the dark had stayed with you, the sound of his voice telling you to leave his son, that you deserved better. The sound of his kindness, you’d stretched toward it like a flower seeking the light, the singular attention of a man like that. You’d gone over the memory of it over and over again in your mind, worn the edges of it until it was faded and worn. And when Sam had served you the divorce papers, and you’d all but gotten on your knees and begged him to please, please, stay, please, don’t leave me alone, that sound of kindness had been what you’d clung to through all the rest. That terrible clamor of failure and abandonment and not good enough, his kindness had remained, and you’re sure now, that it had brought you here too, to his home, to his bed, into his arms. This was where you’d always been meant to end up, perhaps, even from that first moment you’d met Sam all those years ago on the college green, in the arms of his father. Nothing could feel wrong after kismet like that, even if you weren’t allowed to fall in love.

Part III

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[manicplank]

The Color Pink (Noise x Noisette FanFic) (Part 1)

Hi ok so for starters, this is just my interpretation of how Noise and Noisette came to be. This is based off my headcanons and such, NO PART OF THIS IS CANON. This is fan fiction, so be prepared to be cringe. I am cringe, but I am free. Please be patient on updates and grammar/punctuation corrections. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Hazel grumbled as the sound of her alarm ringing woke her up. She sat up and stretched, rubbing her dry, tired eyes. She lived alone in a small house, but the emptiness made it seem so big. She reluctantly crawled out of bed and walked to the bathroom to brush her teeth. It was four in the morning, earlier than most people can even think of waking up. She brushed her hair as she hummed. Slowly but surely she felt more awake. She put on a white t-shirt and topped it with her favorite pink skirt with overalls. She slipped on her favorite pair of red heels, but they weren't the tallest as to not squish her toes. Finally, she slipped on her pink bunny mask to finish her look. She left her home and locked the door behind her.

The sun was starting to rise and shone through the windows of the tower. She couldn't see all of it, but the tiny amount of clouds colored pink and purple by the sunlight was enough to make her smile. Hazel clutched her purse tightly as she walked through the slum. She hated the location of her cafe, but she was still so grateful to have one. She swiftly unlocked the front door, the bell above it rang as she walked in. She sighed in relief. Another day, another dollar, she thought, as she turned on the lights. She readied the coffee makers with clean filters and freshly ground coffee. The aroma of such filled the air. The bell rang as someone walked in the door.

"Mornin', Hazel!" The Vigilante slithered in with a smile on his face. He made his way to the counter and lifted himself up on the stool. "Morning, Vigi!" She greeted him enthusiastically. "You're up early today!"

"Yep," he responded, "it's hay day. Cuttin' down the field and shuffling the hay so it can dry... It sure does take a while. By the time I finish, it'll be sundown."

"So what can I get'cha today?"

"The usual."

She grabbed a mug from the shelves beneath the counter and poured the dark silky coffee, leaving a little room for a couple of sugar cubes. She handed it to The Vigilante, and he immediately took a sip before the coffee could even cool.

He sighed happily, "Just how I like it. Thank ya kindly."

Hazel smiled in reply. "I've been thinking about serving food in here."

"Oh yeah?" He smiled. "Like what?"

"I don't know," she hummed with thought. "I want to do something unique. I feel like every cafe does the same thing, I want to be different. It's always donuts, sandwiches, blah blah blah."

"Hmph... Maybe somethin' like pastries?"

"Uhhh... Maybe. I don't know, that's not super special. I want to do something you've never heard of. Something like... Peas and cherries!"

The Vigilante silently stared at her in horror.

"Get it? Like peas and carrots, but instead of carrots, it's cherries!"

He smiled hesitantly. "Yeah, uh... How about something... different."

She frowned. "You're right, that idea stinks! I'll think of something better."

While she took out a small notepad and took inventory, The Vigilante sipped on his coffee quietly while he read the newspaper. Hazel was a bit disgruntled, she hated doing inventory. It was so boring to her. Even being a small business had its tolls. She always dreamed of having her own cafe that was more unique than the big corporate ones, but she dreaded the side work that didn't involve making coffee and chatting with costumers. Even worse, business was slow. Days were long and grating. She hoped that maybe food would bring in more customers, but she feared that some of the questionable gangs from The Pig City nearby would put her business at stake. The Vigilante always insisted that he would be there if anything happened, but she didn't like depending on him. What if it took him too long to get up to the fourth floor? The thugs would've been long gone before he even stepped out of the elevator.

The Vigilante put his empty mug on the counter. "Well, dear," he spoke, "I better get goin'. Fields ain't gonna harvest 'emselves."

"Alright, Vigi. Thanks for stopping in!"

He tipped his hat as he walked out the door. "Anytime."

She sighed and rested her head in her arms on the counter. Once again, the cafe was empty and quiet, too quiet for her liking. She flipped on the T.V. in the lobby. PTV was on with those BORING shows about the history of pizza and pizza people. It hadn't had any new content in so long, but it was good background noise as she attempted to scrub those stubborn stains on the counter. Those stains were there before she was, and no matter how hard she tried, they stayed. They were so frustrating for her. She felt that they made her look lazy and dirty, but that couldn't be farther from the truth.

The bell rang again as the Pig City police force entered the cafe. "Morning, fellas," she greeted them. One tipped his hat at her while the others went to the booths. She walked over and handed them the small menus. The size of the menus haunted her as she felt that her cafe was lacking something. The Piggy Police quickly gazed over the menus as they found what they wanted. One by one they handed the menus back to her. "Y'know, ma'am," one spoke, "NTV has a crazy new show going on."

"Oh," she aired, "which one? I know they've got a few projects in the works."

"Ahhh, I think it's the one where he plays as the detective."

"Noise of the Unknown?"

"Yeah, that one! I think it premieres a couple times today."

"I'll change the channel," she tapped the menus on the table to straighten them out. "I'm sick of this PTV channel, anyways"

Hazel headed back behind the counter, quickly changing the channel to NTV before she began to work on the cops' orders. One coffee with frothy cold foam atop, another coffee with cream and two shots of espresso, an extra sweet cappuccino, an iced coffee with vanilla syrup. She was slightly swamped with orders, but she was happy to finally be doing something. She served those coffees to the first booth then headed to another booth to take their orders. She rushed back to the counter to work on the new orders. The bell rang as yet another customer walked in. "Be with you in one minute," she called out. She was focused intensely on her work that her surroundings disappeared. A hot black coffee with six sugars, a coffee with milk and mocha sauce, another cappuccino with hazelnut syrup and sugar. She collected the empty dishes from the first booth and rushed back to the counter. "That's a familiar face on T.V.," said the stranger at the counter.

"Well, yea, that's The-" she was struck with awe as she turned around see the tower's biggest celebrity sitting right in front of her. "-Noise... Hahhhahhh... hi."

"Hey," The Noise spoke as a smirk grew across his face.

"You, that's uh... That's you." She grinned from ear to ear, completely flustered as her celebrity crush gazed into her eyes.

"Yeah, that's me."

"..."

"..."

"So, uh," she cleared her throat. "What can I get'cha?"

"I don't know yet, first time here."

"Oh, right, um-" she handed him a menu, "here. I'll come back to you in a minute."

She went over to the second booth, her heart now racing. She could feel the blood rushing to her face as she was suddenly nervous. She collected the dishes from the second booth and then the first, putting them in the sink behind the counter. She printed out their receipts and handed it to them. The Piggy Police continued to sit and chat in their booths. She hastily made her way back behind the counter and approached The Noise, her heart still fluttering. "Anything catch your eye," she asked him. He looked up from the menu and winked at her. It took every bit of self control she had not to squeal.

"I'll have an iced coffee," he said, "shot of espresso, sweet cream, three sugar."

"Got it!"

Hazel rushed over to the freshest pot of coffee and poured it over ice. The Piggy Police came up to the counter to pay their bills as she quickly finished up The Noise's drink and handed it to him. They all paid but didn't tip, to her disappointment. A few cops tried to chat with The Noise, but he put his hand up and spoke, "Sorry fellas, I'm off the clock right now. Business only happens on the clock." They nodded to him and went on their way, their radios suddenly beeping in emergency. Hazel tried not to stare at Noise and kept her focus on washing the dishes. He finally took a sip of his drink, and his eyes widened. "Holy shit," he exclaimed. Hazel turned around in panic. "This coffee is amazing!"

"Oh, please," she smiled, "you're just saying that."

"No, seriously! This is the best coffee I've had in this tower." He took another sip. "I mean, a lot of the coffee you get in this place is pizza-flavored... I usually brew my own, but I have that little machine with the cups."

"I used to have one of those. Ironically, of course, heh..."

"It isn't the best, but it gets me going when we film early in the mornings... Or afternoons." He chuckled.

Hazel went back to doing the dishes and tried to give The Noise some space.

"Ya know," he started again, "I wanted to ask you something."

Hazel's heart dropped and her eyes grew wide. What was he going to ask? "Yeah? What's up?"

"The name of your cafe... what's up with that?"

"Oh... Oh! It's French for hazelnut! It's pronounced, 'nwa-zett', but everybody thinks it's 'Noise-ett'... I promise it's not named after you, no offense."

"That's..."

Her heart started racing again. Oh, god, is he mad, she thought.

"Hilarious!" The Noise laughed. "I can't believe people thought your cafe was named after me!"

She giggled with him, "Yeah! I thought it was silly. I corrected a few people, but it gets tiring."

"I can imagine." He drank his coffee. "You serve food here?"

"No. Not yet, actually. I'm hoping to serve food here soon enough, but I'm still debating what to put on the menu."

"You thinkin' pastries or somethin'?"

"No. Well, maybe. I want something unique. I don't know, though. I'm completely stumped. I mean, what hasn't been done?"

He listened to her as he continued to sip his coffee as if he hadn't drank anything in days.

"Funkin' Donuts and Farbucks have pastries and sandwiches," she rambled, "but I don't want to be like the big corporations! I want to do something different. I want my cafe to have a catch!"

The Noise's phone began to rang. "Sorry to interrupt you," he apologized as he answered the call. "Yeah, what's up? ... Ugh, really? I haven't even eaten anything yet... Alright, fine. I'll be there in ten minutes." He sighed in frustration. "Sorry to rush, but it looks like we're starting early today. What do I owe you?"

"Oh, don't worry about it. It's on the house!"

"No, please, I have the money, let me pay you."

"Alright," she handed him the receipt, and he paid her in cash. "Thanks for stopping in!"

"I'll be back eventually." He winked at her, and she giggled.

"I'll be here." She turned grabbed his glass and took it over to the sink to be washed with the rest of the dishes. The bell rang as he walked out.

-

With all the coffee pots washed and the machines cleaned, it was finally time to end her day at work. Hazel sighed as she went over to count the cash in the register. She glanced at the tip jar quickly, expecting it to be empty as usual, but... "Oh, my GOSH!!!" She exclaimed loud enough to echo through the cafe. A $100 bill sat in the jar, it was the only tip in there. She squealed as she took the money out of the jar. It made no sense to her; none of the police tipped. Hold on... That tip had to be from The Noise! She squeaked and hopped around. While her day wasn't close to ending, it was just made whole and complete.

[payasita]

two-step

[saradika-graphics]

— valentine’s day 💌💕

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please consider liking or reblogging if you use 💕

[sheerakk]

[ghostbsuter]

Water drips down in the corner, the steady dop drop drop— does wonders for the bat.

Batman has been taken, tied up, and undressed of his utility belt. It takes him a second to figure out who took him, by the large but empty and run down warehouse, the sound of the shore not far away.

The docks. He shuffles, bound and comm off.

Then, the steel enforced door slams open and Joker enters.

"Batsy!" He calls, overjoyed. The man walks to the bound vigilante and crouches to his height.

"It's been so long, hasn't it been?"

The vigilante grunts. "Joker."

"Today will be different." He goes on, "today, we have," the crime Prince drums his fingers on Batman's thigh. "A guest!"

He freezes at that, Joker has a civilian.

(Oracle sends out the message, her voice firm, and the coords are shared to the rest of the clan in seconds as she looks at her monitor. Batman's red dot at the harbour bright.)

"I'm a guest now?" The voice of a child asks, it brings slight confusion that the boy wasn't tied nor harmed in any way.

It's relief that he seems okay, but the danger of standing next to the Joker has Batman wiggling in his restrains.

"Is that a promotion or demotion for son?"

A brief look of annoyance enters Joker before being smoothed out, the boy is dealing with a delicate time bomb. Uncomfortably close to the madman.

(He hurries in the process of breaking free.)

"My son! My blood!" Sings the clown, throwing his hands around the boy's shoulders and prancing around.

Which brings another question.

Son?

Cool lighting hits the boy's head and the tuffs of pink, blue and green become more obvious, hidden beneath black hair previously.

Joker and Harley have a child. A son.

He will visit harley later. The boy comes first.

"Dante! Danyal! Daniel?" Joker croons, shaking the boy. "What was it again?" He stops, turning his son toward him with a grin.

(Robin drops down behind him, hiding, katana ready to be swung.)

"Danny, actually," the child— Danny– shrugs off the hands and steps back. Unflinching from the judging stare, simply waving off the hands creeping to his throat.

"Danny," the name is tested, and the Prince of Crime hums to himself. "We can always replace it as Joker Jr! It fits you better than Danny."

(Red Robin and Spoiler get on position above them, ready to pounce from the construction pillars.)

"Yeah, I don't know about that." He chuckles nervous, catching Batman's eyes and—

His eyes alone scream of fear, scared– scared—!!

"We will get you an acid flower, a new suit as well, the hoodie looks horrible on you." The man notes, humming.

"I prefer hammers." Danny replies with tense shoulders.

Joker clicks his tongue, "You always went after your mother." he hisses, outright glaring at his son now. His hand tightened around the crowbar he'd gathered not long ago.

"I mean," he hesitates, eye trailing off the Joker and over his shoulder. "I did come out of her."

The sound of a loaded gun shatters the silence, and Joker is pulling Danny, switching their positions and pushing him right in front of the gun in Red Hood's hand.

"Always a coward, hiding behind others, aren't you." Danny stops himself from squealing. That's the Red Hood!

(Escrima sticks light up with electricity as Red Hood speaks.)

Joker is ticked off, party ruined and surrounded now that he looks around.

Oh well, he can get his son on his villain path another day.

Cackling, he evades the escrimas, dodging the wonder boy and evading the twin attacks from above.

He pulls out a trigger and presses the bright red Button.

"Have fun bats and birds!"

The warehouse is completely flooded with fear gas, scarecrow wouldn't be mad he sacrificed one of his warehouses, will he?

It's all blurry. In one moment, his view is shrouded, and he's coughing. In another, he gets picked up and brought outside, the Joker gone.

An oxygen mask is placed on him by a paramedic, being handed off to an ambulance that had been called.

Peeking around, he sees Red Hood (!) still lingering around. Danny catches his eye and with a wave, the man is walking towards him.

He simply crosses his arms and tilts his head, waiting.

"Could I get a picture?" Danny blurts out, flushing after and coughing, holding the oxygen mask in his lap.

Red Hood makes a show of his shoulder sagging before crouching down and leaning toward him.

Later, Danny will look at the picture with a boyish grin, crooked and charming.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

A continuation

[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

we saw oppenheimer at 12:00 with a black coffee and barbie at 4:30 with a diet coke like the lord intended

[roosterforme]

Pink Christmas Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Flying in the annual holiday air show dressed as Santa Claus was just something Bradley considered to be part of his job. But when he meets an inquisitive little girl and her beautiful mom, suddenly he wants to make all of their Christmas wishes come true. The only problem is, your daughter actually believes he's Santa, and he's not sure how he's going to keep up the charade when he wants to pursue you as just Bradley.

Warnings: Fluff, language, single mom reader, mentions of loss of spouse

Length: 8000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Pink Christmas masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32. Written for @bellaireland1981 Winter RomCom Challenge

You sat on a beach towel in the grass with your face tilted up toward the warm sun and your five year old daughter on your lap. Never would you have imagined wearing short sleeves and enjoying this kind of warmth in December, but your life had turned unpredictable in the past twelve months. And that included leaving a city that was currently buried in snow for the perpetual summer of southern California. 

"Mommy! Look!" your daughter shouted unnecessarily loudly, making you laugh. She turned around with wide eyes to make sure you were looking where she was pointing as she adjusted her pink noise canceling headphones. "It's Santa!"

You slid her headphones off since it wasn't loud at the moment, and you looked out across the runway at the Miramar Air Show to see a tall pilot dressed as Santa Claus walking toward his fighter jet with a group of other pilots dressed as elves right behind him. "I see him," you told her, kissing her cheek as she bounced with excitement. "It looks like he's going to fly one of the airplanes."

"Why does Santa have an airplane?" she asked. "And where are his reindeer? And why are the elves getting in airplanes, too?"

You were saved from having to answer her questions as the aircraft engines fired to life for the finale of the show, and you put her ear protection back in place before putting your own earplugs back in. Honestly, you didn't know how to explain to your child who still believed in the magic of Christmas why Santa was taking off in a jet that said ROOSTER on the side of it. Frankly there were a lot of things you didn't know how to explain to her.

She clapped her hands when the jets swooped overhead in an impossible looking formation before looping back around and doing it again. Your heart melted as you watched her wave to the lead jet and shout, "Hi, Santa!" The planes roared overhead and shot upwards before coming back one by one to the land on the runway with such incredible looking ease.

When she whipped her headphones off herself this time, your daughter jumped to her feet with a huge smile on her face. "Let's go talk to Santa," she said, reaching back for your hand. 

But you already had your eyes glued on the pilot who quickly replaced his helmet with a white beard and Saint Nick hat. You couldn't help but watch him, enjoying that distant glimpse of him before he went into full Santa character again. He looked tall and strong as he climbed down the ladder in his bright red flight suit, and you had to look away as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. He waved to everyone in the crowd, and it felt like he was waving right at the two of you.

"Mommy!"

You knew she wasn't going to be deterred from this mission, so you got to your feet and let her tug you along as you tried to fold the towel one handed. "Sweetheart, Santa and his elves might be too busy to talk to us right now," you warned her as the group of six elves in bright green flight suits started fist bumping Santa Claus. And your steps faltered, because Santa somehow just got more attractive the closer you got.

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

"Who let you be Santa anyway?" Jake asked, tugging on his red and green striped hat with enormous elf ears attached to the sides. "This elf bullshit is a damn disgrace."

"I volunteered to be Santa before the rest of you got a chance. Do I look like I'd make a good elf?" Bradley asked, and Jake rolled his eyes. "No. I do not." He was the tallest one in the group, and luckily he was able to sweet talk Maverick into letting him be the one to don the beard and the red flight suit for today's Miramar for the Holidays event they all volunteered to fly for. 

"Maverick should have mixed things up and made me Santa," Nat said with her chin in the air. 

"But you're the cutest little elf I've ever seen," Bradley told her, earning a smack on the back of his arm from her helmet. "Ow!"

"Wait, are we complaining?" Mickey asked. "I like being an elf. And apparently we get free food and hot cocoa in the volunteers tent."

"Oh, shit. Really?" Reuben asked, craning his neck to look toward the tent in question.

Bradley was about to remind everyone that they were obligated to pose for photos with kids when he heard a voice calling out, "Santa! Hey, Santa!" He turned toward the four foot tall chain link fence as an adorable little girl dragged a grown woman in his direction. 

"Hey guys, we got company," he told the others as he adjusted his white beard and red hat. When he waved toward the child, she squealed in delight, and Bradley couldn't help but laugh. As she and the woman he assumed was her mom approached the fence, Bradley leaned on the top of it. 

"Ho, Ho, Ho! What's your name, Kiddo?" he asked her with a bright smile. But his gaze inadvertently shifted to how gorgeous you looked as you held her hand, and he gave you a wink. He wouldn't mind learning your name, too.

But the little girl was eyeing him skeptically. "Shouldn't you already know my name? My mom said I'm on the nice list!" she exclaimed, gesturing up toward you.

Oh. Shit. "Uh, well, you see..."

Luckily you bailed him out with an apologetic look. "Ellie, don't be rude to Santa. He probably didn't update our names to our new address yet."

"Oh. Yeah," Bradley said, nodding in agreement and smiling. "Of course now I recognize you, Ellie. And your mom, too. Rest assured, you're both on the nice list."

But the girl wasn't convinced. "Why aren't you fatter?"

You brought your hand up to cover your face and groaned as Bradley laughed. "I needed to be able to fit in my jet."

"Why do you have a jet? Where's your sleigh?"

Bradley jerked his thumb toward the others milling around behind him. "My elves and I are trying out our jets this year. Something new."

"What about your reindeer?" she asked, undeterred. You were looking at Bradley and half smiling, half grimacing as you mouthed I'm sorry. But he didn't mind at all. Ellie was keeping him on his toes. 

"Uh... they have the year off, per their union contracts. You certainly have a lot of questions, Ellie."

She nodded up at him with her hands on her hips. "I just want to make sure you're the real Santa. I've seen a lot of impostors at the mall."

Bradley had to stifle his laughter as you said, "I had no idea she was going to be like this. I'm so sorry, Santa."

"It's fine," he reassured you, noting that you weren't wearing any rings before he returned his attention to your daughter. "Okay, Ellie. What's it going to take for you to believe I'm really Santa?"

Her brow scrunched as she contemplated his question, and Bradley used the time to check you out. It was useless, he knew that, since he looked like an idiot in his fake beard at the moment. But damn, you were pretty. And your daughter was like a tiny, inquisitive version of you.

"Well," Ellie said with a little smirk, "you should know how old I am if you're the real Santa."

You quickly held your hand up over her head to help him out, and he counted your fingers. "Of course I know that you're five years old."

Ellie's eyes softened a bit as she said, "That's right! And what's my favorite color?"

This time you juggled the items you were holding and lifted up a set of noise canceling headphones. "That's easy," Bradley replied. "I know you love pink." 

Now Ellie was smiling up at Bradley as she said, "And if you still need to update our new address, then you must know where we moved here from."

Bradley glanced up to see you pretending to shiver and rub your hands along your arms. "You moved here from somewhere cold."

"That's right!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "It's you! You're Santa!"

"It's really me," Bradley said, sending her a wink and nodding at you as you bit your lip and grinned. "And don't you worry, I'll have my elves take care of getting your new address straightened out. But first, I need you to prove that you're the real Ellie."

She nodded in excitement. "Ask me anything!"

"What grade are you in?"

"Kindergarten," she said, eyes filled with joy.

"Yep, that's right. Only the real Ellie would know that." You were laughing now, and Bradley loved the way it sounded. "And what's your favorite animal?"

"Pandas!" 

"Mmhmm," he hummed, pretending he was impressed that she was passing this quiz with flying colors. "I'm almost convinced it's really you."

"Seriously," she told him. "Ask me anything, because I'm sure I'm not an impostor."

Bradley glanced up at you and smirked before leaning on the fence again, and then asked Ellie, "Tell me, Kiddo. What's your mom's name?"

She blurted it out immediately, and Bradley committed it to memory. When he looked up at you again, your gaze was focused on the ground, but you looked pleased if not a little sad. He wanted to know why. 

"Would the two of you like to come in here and look at the North Pole jets?" he asked, and Ellie started bouncing up and down immediately. 

"We don't want to waste any more of your time, Santa," you told him with an apologetic look. 

"You wouldn't be," he promised, and when he said your name, you smiled and looked off to the side like you were embarrassed. "Come around the fence. You can meet my elves." He pointed to the gate a ways down where a security guard was standing. Bradley waved to him and gave him a thumbs up which the guard returned. "Santa gets special privileges."

"Fine," you said softly. "We'll just come around and meet you then?"

"Looking forward to it," he replied, and then Ellie was taking off for the fence opening with you right behind her. Bradley turned toward the others and clapped his hands. "Listen up. This little girl, Ellie, thinks I'm really Santa," he informed them. "And she thinks you're all my elves."

"Fuck," Jake groaned. 

"I'm really hungry," Bob whispered. 

"I refuse to be nice to you, even in front of a child," Nat said blandly.

"Whatever," Reuben and Javy said in unison.

"I'm so excited!" Mickey giggled, adjusting his elf ears. 

"Just be nice, okay? Here she comes... with her mom," Bradley said, really enjoying the sight of you headed his way. He cleared his throat and knelt down as Ellie streaked toward him. 

"Can I sit in one of the North Pole jets?" Ellie asked while you shook your head apologetically. 

"Really, feel free to tell her no."

But Bradley just smiled and adjusted his white beard before he scooped the child up and stood. You looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and intrigue as he said, "Sure, Kiddo, if you think you can climb that ladder? It's really tall."

"Yeah, I can do it!" Ellie said, looking past him at his F/A-18 and clapping.

"Sound okay, Mom?" he asked you, and you bit your lip and smiled. 

"Great. While Ellie and I are up there talking about what's on her Christmas list, why don't you give your information to my sweetest and most loyal elf, Phoenix."

Nat rolled her eyes at him so hard before she turned to you with a smile, and Bradley had to walk away before he started laughing too hard to stay in character. 

"Your elf is named Phoenix?" Ellie asked as he carried her toward the ladder. "What are the other ones named?"

Bradley chuckled. "They're all pretty silly sounding," he said as he set her down a few rungs from the bottom. "The big one is Payback. The one who can't stop smiling is Fanboy. The one that's yawning is Coyote. Bob is the one with glasses. And the cranky one is Hangman."

"He looks like he could use a candy cane," she said as she started to climb. 

"I think you're probably right. I should feed all of them more sweets." 

Once they reached the top, he hoisted her over the edge and climbed onto the seat behind her. "Do you want to talk about what's on your Christmas list?"

"Yeah," she said with a sigh as she plopped down on his knee and looked at him with concern. "We didn't bring most of our decorations and stuff when we moved, because there were already too many boxes."

"Oh," Bradley grunted, patting her on the shoulder. Now he was even more curious than before about where the two of you had moved from and why as his gaze met yours where you stood below with Phoenix. "Well you'll need a Christmas tree for your presents to go under."

She nodded and finally smiled when Bradley looked at her again. "The only thing I really want is a pink one!"

He blinked at her a few times. "A pink tree?"

"Yeah!  A pink Christmas tree! And an art set with pink paint."

Bradley nodded, figuring he could probably make that happen. "Sounds monochromatic but fun. Anything else?"

Ellie looked down at you and waved. Your brilliant smile for your daughter was so lovely, Bradley found himself waving too, which made you laugh. "Nothing else for me," Ellie whispered. "But something for my mom."

"Oh yeah?" he grunted when you blew a kiss up to them. Damn. He knew it was for your daughter, but he kind of wanted one of his own. "What do you think Santa should bring for your mom?"

"A boyfriend."

His gaze jerked back to Ellie's, but she looked completely serious. "You want me to get your mom a boyfriend?"

She nodded and said, "One that's tall and will play dolls with me sometimes and eat dinner at our new house. And he has to be really nice. Just like my dad was."

Bradley leaned in a little closer and wrapped his arm around her narrow shoulders. "What happened to your dad?"

"He died last year," she said matter-of-factly. "But I'm sure you knew him, because he was definitely on the nice list."s

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

You watched as your daughter gave the naval aviator she was convinced was Santa Claus a big hug. He actually looked a bit ridiculous in the bright red flight suit and hat with the white beard, but Ellie seemed to have bonded with him in some way. They were laughing together about something she whispered to him, and then he was patting her head. 

"I'll see what I can do for you, okay Ellie?" he told her, and you wondered if his voice really was that deep all the time. 

"Thanks, Santa!" She came trotting over to you and took you by the hand. "I'm ready to go home now," she told you with a smile as the 'elves' waved goodbye. A startled laugh escaped you, because the entire afternoon felt very surreal. You just gave your phone number and your new address to someone named Phoenix who was dressed as an elf even though she was definitely also a naval pilot. And now you were waving to Santa Claus who you were left to assume was named Bradley Bradshaw based on what was painted on the side of his jet. 

"Did you have a fun time with Santa?" you asked as you walked back toward the opening in the gate, chuckling at your own words. 

"Yeah. He's really nice. I could have probably stayed and talked to him all night," she replied, and when you turned back he was still looking at you. The casual wave of his hand made your heart skip a beat. You really wanted this again. That familiarity with another person. The ease. The perpetually happy child next to you.

"Yeah... he seems pretty great."

But you were really annoyed with yourself when you spent nearly a full hour after you got Ellie in bed imagining what his face might look like without the fake beard. It had barely been three months since you stopped wearing your wedding rings. It was just over a year ago that your husband died unexpectedly. You were decidedly not in the market for dating anyone while Ellie was this young, because she deserved all of your attention. So why were you thinking about this Bradley guy and how sweet he was with your daughter?

You collapsed onto your bed and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. You didn't do the wordle yet for today, and you still needed to check the weather for tomorrow. But you got distracted by a text from a number you didn't recognize. 

Hey, it's Bradley Bradshaw. I mean Santa. I hope you don't mind me texting you.

You sat up in your bed so quickly. Your stomach lurched as butterflies took up residence, and your fingers quivered a little bit as you gripped your phone. What were you supposed to do? "Text him back," you muttered to yourself. "Get a grip." 

You looked across the room at your wedding photo on your dresser. It had been in one of the few moving boxes you managed to unpack already, and it made you smile every time you looked at it. Right now was no exception; that was one of the best days of your life. But when you looked back down at your phone, you didn't feel a pang of sadness or regret. You felt intrigued. So you saved Bradley's number and then texted him back.

I don't mind one bit. I'm happy to have the chance to thank you again for earlier. You made Ellie's day! Mine, too!

And then you waited with your phone in your hand, half embarrassed and half excited by the idea of getting another text from him.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Your daughter is a bit of a spitfire. I was very entertained by her. And there's no need to thank me. It was the highlight of my day.

Dealing with your sassy five year old was the highlight of his day? You squealed and had to set your phone down while you walked around your room for a few minutes. The highlight of his day? He was a fighter pilot! He flew a jet around at the air show!

"Oh god," you groaned, crawling back across your bed to your phone. You were already a lost cause. Over a man who had been dressed as Santa Claus? Ridiculous.

But now you were scrambling over what to type back to him. Send him a Santa emoji? No. You were flustered as you sent him the first random thing that came to your mind.

You make a great Santa. You know, in case you ever contemplate a career change.

You looked at the words on your phone screen and cringed. You glanced back at your wedding photo and sighed. If that was your best attempt at flirting, then it was amazing you'd ever been married at all. And this man you met today didn't even seem bothered that you had a kid. That was a miracle in itself. You got ready to toss your phone aside for the night when he sent back a smiling emoji and another text.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I'll keep that in mind as a potential retirement gig. 

You wanted to tell him he looked pretty good in a fake beard. You wanted to tell him you were curious what he looked like without it. You wanted to keep him talking a little bit longer, because you could feel the adrenaline fueled blood pumping through your body, and it felt exciting. But before you could even say anything else, Bradley had you burying your face in your pillow so you could scream without waking Ellie up.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: But here's the thing. I'm an absolute sucker for cute girls. When can I see the two of you again?

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

Bradley had to wait a little bit for a response from you, and he was sweating. He didn't want to push too hard, especially after Ellie told him her dad died, but he was intrigued. Plus, he was already googling pink Christmas trees. 

Ellie's Mom: Ellie and I are kind of suckers for sweet Santas. What did you have in mind?

He lounged back in his bed with a smile on his face. Was he about to drop five hundred bucks on an eight foot tall pink tree? Hell yes. Especially since you just called him sweet. 

Ellie asked Santa for a pink Christmas tree. I want to order it tonight if you can confirm it will fit in your house. And then I'd love to come by and set it up one day.

You wrote back almost immediately after he sent the link to the tree. 

Ellie's Mom: You don't have to buy that for her! It's so expensive! Honestly, you don't need to buy her anything!

Bradley sighed. The kid thought he was really Santa Claus, so there was no way she wasn't getting a pink tree and a pink art kit. It was the boyfriend request that made him chuckle, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested in the idea of seeing you again. 

But I want to. Any chance you can measure the space for me?

He had to wait a little bit longer again for you to answer, but this time he was rewarded with photos that had him sitting up in bed and staring at his phone. 

Ellie's Mom: I can't find a measuring tape in all these moving boxes, but here's the spot where a tree could go. And here I am for reference.

You were smiling in the selfies, looking a little shy but just as pretty as earlier today, and you had on a shirt that looked so soft, he wanted to touch it. "God damn it," he grunted, already tapping out a response. 

I think Santa should stop by in person and check the measurements, just to be on the safe side. Also, you're gorgeous.

"Oh fuck," groaned after he hit send. He really didn't mean to come on so strong, especially since he just met you. He busied himself with ordering the pink tree that he was sure would fit in that spot along with some colorful ornaments and tried not to count the minutes until you wrote back.

Ellie's Mom: We'll be home on Monday evening. I'm sure Ellie would love another visit from Santa. And so would I.

Bradley wrote back letting you know roughly what time he could stop by, and then he started to formulate a plan. 

On Monday, in the locker room after work, he changed out of his regular flight suit and showered before zipping himself into his bright red one. His measuring tape, beard and Santa hat were already waiting in the Bronco, and he swung by his favorite bakeshop on his way out of Coronado. The place was packed with customers placing orders for Christmas goodies, so he was happy he decided to call ahead. He grabbed the box he already paid for and got back on the road, following his GPS across the city to the outskirts of town.

Your place was a cute town home with a pink Christmas wreath on the door and the windows lit with a warm glow as the sun set. Bradley got his Santa beard and hat situated using his rearview mirror, and then he grabbed the box and the measuring tape and made his way up to the front porch. As soon as he knocked, his heart beat a little faster, and a few seconds later, you were opening the door for him with a smile. 

"Hey, Santa," you said softly with a crooked little smile. Bradley took you in from head to toe, his eyes catching on your lips and your pink sweater as he heard Ellie come bounding down the stairs. 

"Santa!"

He looked past you just in time to see your daughter come streaking toward him wearing a pink dress and launching herself into his arms. He bent and caught her a little awkwardly as he laughed. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she hugged him. 

"Came to make sure you're still on the good list." Bradley grinned up at you where you stood biting your lip. "Well, Mom? Has she been listening and behaving?"

You nodded. "Yes, Santa. She's been very well behaved."

"Excellent," he replied, releasing Ellie and handing her the box which she opened right away.

She gasped and looked up at him. "Pink Christmas cookies?"

"Yeah, I just thought the two of you might like something sweet."

You were looking at him with softly parted lips, and then you said, "Aren't we supposed to be leaving cookies out for you later this month?"

"I wouldn't complain if you did," he replied as Ellie handed you a pink snowflake cookie. He watched you bite into it, and he realized he was staring. 

"Want one?" Ellie asked, tugging on his hand. 

"No, those are for the two of you, Kiddo. I'm really here to measure the room for your pink tree. I want to drop it off before Christmas so there's something for your presents to go under."

Ellie screeched and nearly dropped the cookies all over the floor as you took the box from her. She pulled Bradley into the living room and showed him where she wanted her tree to go, and then she helped him measure the space while she asked him what he wanted for Christmas.

"Does Mrs. Claus get you something every year?" she asked, eyes wide and focused on him. 

He wasn't sure how to answer her as he knelt on the floor with the measuring tape in his hand. So he decided to just be honest. "I actually don't have a Mrs. Claus yet."

When Ellie's eyes drifted from him up to you where you stood a few feet away, Bradley couldn't help but follow suit. "Mommy," she whispered. "We need to get something for Santa."

"Okay," you whispered back, barely glancing at Bradley before looking back at your daughter. "We can do that."

Ellie turned back to him and asked, "If I leave a present under the tree on Christmas Eve, will you know it's for you when you get here?"

"Of course. Just write my name on it so I know it's mine." Then she kissed him on his cheek right above his white beard, and Bradley melted a little bit inside. 

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

You and your daughter waved from your front door as Santa left with his tape measure and one of the pink cookies. Ellie insisted he take the one that was decorated like a reindeer with him, and you watched as he ate it while he started up his vintage blue Bronco. When he honked and waved goodbye, Ellie jumped up and down. 

"Santa's bringing me a pink tree!" she gushed, and honestly, you were feeling a little silly over that man, too. Your skin tingled as you closed the door and looked at the rest of the cookies. You felt like he was spoiling the two of you even though you barely knew him. 

"Let's go get ready for bed," you whispered, ushering her toward the stairs before you took the cookies to your kitchen to have a moment to yourself. Last Christmas had been a nightmare as it was just a few weeks after you lost your husband, and now you'd moved to San Diego to have a fresh start with a new job and a new school and a new city. You couldn't handle another holiday in the house that the three of you had shared. 

California was warm and welcoming, but the last thing you had expected to find here right away was a man that made your heart skip a beat. You knew your husband wouldn't want you to give up the idea of dating someone else, but you'd convinced yourself that nobody would want the two of you even though Ellie was a sweet kid. 

You set the pretty cookies down on the counter and sighed. Bradley didn't seem to mind that Ellie was around. If anything, he seemed to really like her. He was buying her a tree even though you told him he didn't have to do that. You were more than capable of getting one, but he wasn't going to be deterred. 

And Ellie definitely liked him, helped in part by the fact that she seemed completely convinced he was actually Santa. 

"You don't even really know what his face looks like," you groaned as you closed the box and headed upstairs. It didn't even matter though, because you could still tell he was handsome with the kind of brown eyes you just wanted to keep looking at. But how embarrassing were you? Crushing on him like this.

After you got Ellie in bed, you texted Bradley to say thank you, and he wrote back immediately. 

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: It was my pleasure.

You imagined him saying those words in his deep voice in person, and you were still thinking about him the next morning when you woke up. You picked up your framed wedding photo and sighed in exasperation. "He reminds me a bit of you, honestly," you told your deceased husband who smiled back from the frame. "He's funny and kind of sweet. Maybe I just miss you. I don't know."

But you found yourself unable to get much work done from your home office while Ellie was at school. You kept sneaking down to the kitchen to get pink cookies, and by late afternoon, you caved like a house of cards and texted Bradley.

I can't stop thinking about what you might look like without your Santa beard and hat.

You set your phone down on your desk and stared at it. What were you, fucking insane or something? You must be. After twenty minutes with no response, you grabbed a sweatshirt and went for a walk around the block without your phone. You had forgotten how to flirt. That had to be what was going on here. You no longer knew how to be normal or subtle in any way, because it had been so long since you needed to be. When you moved to San Diego to start over again, you must have forgotten to pack your ability to act chill in front of men you were attracted to. 

You stood on your front porch and took a deep breath before heading back inside. You needed to stop this. After Bradley came back with the pink tree for Ellie, he wasn't going to want to keep hanging out anyway. It was better to just stop this thing in its tracks right now. You ran back upstairs to your desk and grabbed your phone. He probably hadn't responded yet, which was great, because you could text him again and tell him you were just joking.

"Haha," you muttered as you sat down. "Just kidding, Santa."

But he had already replied. Oh. And he sent a selfie. Oh my. "Oh my god." He was even hotter than you imagined. He had a mustache. A real one, not the white one. He wasn't wearing the red hat either, and as a result, you got to see how soft his light brown curls looked. And he was smiling, his lips and his eyes already familiar to you. Then you made a small, strangled sound as you read the accompanying text.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Greetings from North Island... I mean, the North Pole. And by the way, I can't stop thinking about you either.

You literally melted out of your chair and onto the spare bedroom floor. You thought about reaching for your computer to put up your out of office message, but you couldn't stop looking at the photo long enough to focus on anything else. You were laying on your back looking at your phone, and you nearly dropped it on your face when he wrote back again.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: The tree should arrive on Thursday. I was thinking I could take a half day at work and come over to set it up on Friday afternoon while Ellie is at school? Then I could see you again, too...

You rolled onto your front and started typing. Of course you wanted him to come back on Friday. You hit send before you realized that you'd be here alone with him. You'd have no five year old to buffer yourself from almost certain embarrassment.

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

Everyone else was picking out poinsettias or red and green blooms, but when Bradley got to the florist, he asked for a big bouquet of pink flowers as well as a smaller one. Just pink flowers. Nothing else. He paid and left with both of them in one hand and ran back across the street to his Bronco. 

He was running late. He told you he'd be there around one o'clock, but it was already half past. Of course he needed to shower before he left work at noon, since he smelled like jet fuel, and then he had to stop back at home and load the tree and everything else into the Bronco before he could head to your place. 

The last thing he wanted was for you to think he didn't want to spend as much time with you and Ellie as possible right now. Frankly he was looking forward to spending a little time alone with you, even if it was just while he was putting the tree up. When he finally made it across town, he checked the time and winced before running up the sidewalk and knocking. And if he was already a little bit out of breath, it only got worse when you opened the door and smiled at him. 

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I realized on my way here that I must have been overzealous when I told you I would be here by one."

You grinned and shrugged. "It's okay. Come on in." You closed the door behind him and asked, "Are those for Ellie?" You were gesturing at the flowers he forgot he was holding. 

"Oh," he said, pulling the bouquets apart. "One's for you." Your eyes went wide as he held the bigger bunch out, and your fingers brushed his when you took it. "The little one's for Ellie."

You were looking up at him in surprise and your voice was soft as you said, "Thank you." 

"Yeah, well, I didn't know what your favorite color was, so I went all in on the pink."

You were grinning again as you buried your nose in one of the fuchsia colored roses. "It's pink. Good job, Santa."

Bradley laughed. "I should have known. The two of you have me seeing pink everywhere now."

"I'm not sorry about that," you said, reaching for the other bouquet. "I'll put these in the kitchen."

He handed it over and said, "And I'll bring the tree inside." He watched you turn away from him, and he kept his eyes on you until you were almost out of sight which resulted in you turning around and catching him staring. He didn't mind. 

Bradley made two trips inside with the tree and all of the lights and ornaments, but you must have still been in the kitchen. Or maybe you went upstairs or something. He'd been hoping you wanted to hang out a little bit and chat, but he already had the enormous tree box open with pink branches spilling out of it when you returned with two mugs. 

"I made you some hot chocolate." 

Nobody had made him a mug of hot chocolate since he was a kid himself. "You did?"

"Yeah. But if you don't want it, that's fine." You looked a little shy now, so he stood and reached for the pink mug you were offering to him. 

"I love hot chocolate. I just don't drink it much now that I live where it's usually warm."

"Where are you from?" you asked before you pursed your pretty lips and blew on your drink.

Bradley smirked. "Would I be remiss if I told you I'm actually from Virginia and not the North Pole?"

Your bright laughter had him taking a step closer to you. "Not at all. Just don't tell Ellie that. She's already working on a Christmas present for you. I mean for Santa."

"Is she really?" he asked, suddenly unable to stop smiling. When you nodded, he asked, "What is it?

"I can't tell you! That would ruin the surprise."

"Yeah... don't tell me. I wouldn't want to disappoint her." Bradley took a sip before setting his mug down on a coaster and kneeling in front of the tree box. 

You cleared your throat as he started pulling branches out. "How long have you been living in San Diego?"

"About six years. I finally got a permanent station at North Island after moving around. A lot." He lined all of the pieces up on the floor as you took a few steps closer. 

"How old are you?" you asked him. When he glanced up, you added, "If you don't mind me asking."

He smiled. "I don't mind you asking me anything you want to ask me. I'm thirty seven."

"How are you possibly single?" you blurted out before hiding your mug in front of your mouth. "I'm sorry." You paced back and forth across the living room a few times as you said, "I'm so bad at this. Like epically bad at it. Because I haven't had to do it in so long."

"Do what?" he asked, trying not to laugh as you came to a stop right in front of him. 

You made a cute little sound before you whispered, "I have forgotten how to even attempt to flirt with a man."

He had to press his lips together to hold his laughter in. You were actually serious right now. "I thought you were doing alright."

"You did?" you asked, gaping up at him. 

"Yeah. I mean, you sent me those cute selfies when you didn't have a measuring tape."

You licked your lips and took a step away from him. "No one has called me cute since my husband died."

Bradley could feel his lungs deflating. He hated that you had to live through that. He was also selfishly a little afraid you were going to tell him you weren't looking to date again. This was really the only reason he hadn't asked you out already. Well, that and the fact that your daughter was currently convinced he was Santa Claus. 

But he thought he should try his luck. "Someone should be calling you cute every day. You and Ellie both. Like I said, I'm a complete sucker for cute girls."

You looked a little flustered now as you sipped your hot chocolate, so Bradley returned to his mission of putting the massive tree together in the corner of your living room. When he paused to drink from his own mug, you came over to help him. Wordlessly, the two of you assembled it until it was too tall for you to reach. 

When you handed the top part of the tree to him, he whispered, "Thanks." Your hand seemed to linger on his. Or maybe he imagined it. 

"It's nice having someone so tall around," you said. "You must have no problems putting your own tree up."

"Nah," he said, sliding the last piece into place. "I don't even put one up at home. Seems like a waste when it's just for me."

"You don't have a tree?" you asked, and your hand came to rest on his forearm. Bradley's eyes snapped to yours as you said, "If you can continue to handle all the pink... maybe you'd want to come back over and enjoy this one with us?"

"As Santa?" he asked. "I really got myself into a mess with Ellie, didn't I?"

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. "Yeah... she's kind of attached to Santa now."

Bradley was fighting the urge to just kiss you, because you were right there. And you probably tasted like hot chocolate. And the closer you got, the prettier you looked. 

"Should we add the lights?" you asked softly, your hand still on his left arm. "Before Ellie gets home?"

Very slowly, he raised his right hand so there would be no doubt in your mind what was coming. He traced your cheek with his fingertips as your eyes fluttered closed. "Yeah. Let's do the lights and the decorations before she gets back. I didn't bring my beard and my hat today."

"Okay," you breathed, leaning into his touch for a beat before you released his arm and pulled away. "I'll... get the lights ready." You turned and started to open some of the boxes of white twinkle lights while Bradley got the ornaments opened up.

He took out the pink and silver star, and when he reached up toward the top branches, you wrapped the lights around him and the tree at the same time. "If you want to keep me here with you, just say so. You don't need to tie me up."

You laughed. "I couldn't keep you even if I wanted to. You're Santa Claus, remember? You have a million toys to deliver next week."

Bradley caught you gently by the arm as you looped the lights around his back again. "To be crystal clear, I'm only doing this for you and Ellie. Nobody else."

You wrapped the lights a little tighter and said, "To be crystal clear, I like the way that sounds."

Bradley smirked as you finally loosened the strand and freed him. "Listen," he said as he followed you slowly around the tree as you put the lights on correctly this time. "Santa doesn't have time to play games before Christmas. He's very busy."

"Really?" you asked, looking back at him as you strung the lights higher and higher on the pink tree. "This kind of feels like a game to me, Santa."

He took over with the strand once it got too high for you to reach, and when he was done, he watched you pick up one of the boxes of ornaments. There were a bunch of pink and blue hearts and stars, and you smiled up at him. So he decided to go for it. Because he knew this was a rare opportunity he'd been given. "Santa is actually pretty serious right now. About you."

When you immediately returned your gaze to the box in your hands, Bradley ran his hands through his hair. You looked a little flustered again, just like you had when you claimed you forgot how to flirt. Whatever you were doing to him, he liked it. He liked how it felt to be around you and Ellie, too. He ducked behind the tree to plug the lights in, illuminating everything in a soft, pink glow, and then he tried to find the energy to help you finish the tree without pushing this any further.

"Hey, Santa?"

"Yeah?" he replied, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached for an ornament from the box you were holding. 

You seemed to weigh your words before you said them which had Bradley's heart beating a little faster before you even spoke. "I wasn't planning on anything serious. Not really ever again."

"Oh." Serious was the kind of thing he was looking for now. Serious was actually what he wanted. He hung the pretty blue heart shaped ornament and then let his hand fall to his side. His heart felt heavy like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake as you reached up in front of his face to hang a pink and white heart next to his blue one.

"At least that's what I thought before we moved here," you added.

He looked at you with one raised eyebrow. "Something changed your mind?"

"More like someone," you whispered, handing him another pink heart ornament which he carefully hung just above the other two. He wanted to know for sure if he was the one that changed your mind, but you pulled your phone out of your pocket and gasped. 

"Ellie's bus should be here in a couple minutes."

"Right," he said softly. You and he finished decorating the tree, not so subtly stealing glances at each other the whole time. If there was even a chance with you, he wanted to take it, but he didn't want to press any harder today. 

When he reached for his empty mug, you shook your head and said, "You can leave it. I'll clean up later."

"Okay." With nothing else keeping him at your house he started to head for the front door, but you caught his hand in yours. 

"Wait." Your eyes were wide and a little hesitant, but when you tugged gently, he went willingly, slowly closing the distance between you body and his. "Thank you. For the tree and the ornaments. And the cookies. And the flowers."

He shook his head. "It's my pleasure. You don't have to thank me again."

"But I want to," you whispered, running your thumb along the back of his hand. "I want to do a lot of things. But they feel a little scary." When you paused, he didn't rush you. Your eyes were taking in every detail of his face, and you were smiling softly. "Things I haven't done in a long time. Things I never anticipated I'd be doing again. At least not while Ellie is so young."

Bradley opened his mouth, intending to tell you he could wait a few weeks or months to ask you out if that would make things easier for you, but you tugged gently on his hand again, rendering him silent. When your other hand came to rest on his chest, he held his breath. Your gaze stayed locked on your hand as you slowly guided it up along his shoulder and collarbone until it came to rest gently on the scars on the side of his neck. 

The soft stroke of your thumb and even the gentle flex of your fingers could have brought him to his knees. And then you finally met his eyes. "I really want to," you murmured as you stood on tiptoes, your chest brushing his. Bradley's brain took a beat longer to respond than his heart did, but when you tilted your face up to his and let your eyes flutter shut, he closed the distance to your lips with his. 

And it was perfect. The softest kiss of his life, but he could feel his entire body responding to you. With a soft gasp, you released his lips, but you didn't go far. When you met his eyes, you must have liked what you saw there, because you kissed him again. And again. And when Bradley guided your other hand around his neck, you kissed him a little deeper. 

"Oh," you gasped, running your nose along his cheek as your fingers teased the back of his neck. When your lips met his again, he held you close with his hands on your lower back, and Bradley decided he could do this forever. All of it. The pink flowers and decorating the tree and the perfect kisses. 

Then the front door knob rattled, and you broke away from his lips. Your eyes looked hazy at first, and you had the prettiest smile on your face before you pulled yourself out of his grasp as Ellie came inside. Your daughter looked back and forth between the two of you as you pressed your fingertips to your lips, and Bradley winced as Ellie asked him, "Who are you?"

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

Bradley! I mean, Santa! Where is your beard?! I hope you loved part one! Part two is coming soon. This one took a village so thank you to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @cherrycola27

PART 2

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@bradshawsbitch

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

[elix8r]

Pink Whitney (psh) 

PAIRING: park sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRES: smut, fluff, crack, college au, friends to lovers au, brother’s best friend au, frat au 

WARNINGS: profanity, alcohol, mentions of birth control and Plan B, niki and jungwon causing chaos, one night stands, american college experience, unprotected sex (pls be safe!), mentions of pregnancy, drunk sex, frat parties, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, face-fucking, facial, and overall cuteness :)))))

SUMMARY: You had always trusted the beautiful bottle of Pink Whitney to deliver crazy fun nights with little to no hangovers in the morning. It was almost a sacred bond between you and your go-to drink. But that trust was shattered after a night that should have been like any other. Instead, you found yourself waking up in bed with your younger brother's frat bro, and worse, narrowly avoiding pregnancy. Now, as you navigate the awkward aftermath of it all, you feel betrayed by Pink Whitney, the drink that had never let you down before. But even as you mourn the loss of that trust, you find yourself more worked up over the boy who shattered it. 

Fuck Park Sunghoon for ruining Pink Whitney for you or better yet fuck Pink Whitney for making you fall in love with Park Sunghoon.

WORD COUNT: 19k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is definitely the fastest i’ve ever written but it’s because i had literally so much fun writing this! So many moments in this story are inspired by real life events and i have loads more of insane college stories that i will definitely be adding on to my upcoming series set in this same universe: The Frat Diaries! I really really hope you guys enjoy reading this and i love hearing feedback so feel free to send them my way! thanks for all the love so far and i’ll see you soon! 

GLOSSARY LINK  

THE FRAT DIARIES MASTERLIST

Of course, you would much rather be anywhere on a Thursday night (which was still a school night btw!) than at Epsilon Nu’s notorious welcome back party, but a promise was a promise and you couldn’t back out on it. Especially when it was a promise you made to your brother. Jungwon was a relatively easy sibling that rarely asked for much from you so when he came running across campus to you with a request, you couldn’t turn him away. 

“I promise it’ll be the best night of your life!” You doubted it but you let him continue rambling as it was becoming almost entertaining with how desperate your younger brother was becoming. 

As a first-year and a pledge, he was automatically sent to the bottom of the food chain and in the hierarchy of a fraternity if he didn’t bring anything to the frat, then he could wave his membership goodbye. 

“You know I never ask you for anything but if you and your sisters could come then it would help me out and by that, I mean like reaaaaaallly help me out!” His eyes were wide and shimmering towards you. 

“Ok fine, I’ll be there. I’ll probably be able to bring a couple of us but I can’t assure you anything.” You finally give in and before you can even finish your sentence, Jungwon was already pulling you into a tight side hug while jumping in glee. 

Each pledge was tasked with inviting girls to the party and the more that came under their name would be awarded more points and your brother was aiming to be on the top of that list. He was smart for reaching out for your help as you had the connections to help him out as you were also involved in Greek life. It wouldn’t be hard to convince your sisters to go as you knew many of them were already planning on going but it was the fact that you personally weren’t planning on going until now. 

“You won’t regret it! I promise I’ll make sure we’re stocked up on that Pink Whitney shit you like so much and I can even see if Heeseung hyung would be able to pick you and the girls up so you guys won’t have to worry about driving!” 

Seeing how excited he was also brought a smile to your face but if you knew what Thursday night had in store for you then you would have most definitely declined and stuck with your original plans of staying back at your sorority house lounging in the new pajama set you bought at Target while starting on assignments you were already given. But you were no fortune-teller and also weak to your brother’s puppy eyes how could you have known? 

Winter stood in front of the full-length mirror, frowning as she analyzed her outfit. "Is this cute enough that it gives off the vibe that I’m hot and fun while still being classy or is it giving try-hard slut?" she asked, mostly muttering to herself though. You stood beside her, admiring her fashion sense. Winter was a fashion design major and her exceptional understanding of style always showed in her outfits. The two of you were roommates at the Alpha Epsilon Sigma house and were lucky to have gotten a two-person room, unlike some of your other sisters who had to move into four-girl rooms. 

"Don't worry, Winter. You look absolutely gorgeous! You do this every time we go out, but I've never seen you dress bad," you reassured her. Winter's outfit was stunning: a sexy black dress with strategic cutouts that accentuated her figure. You, on the other hand, had opted for a more classic look with a corset top and jeans. 

Just then, your phone buzzed with a message from Heeseung saying that he had arrived and before you could even text the other three girls in your group of friends, they burst into the room. Times like this made you wonder if the five of you actually ran on the same brainwave. Without hesitation, everyone ran downstairs and piled into Heeseung's car, Winter sitting on top of Giselle (her big), while Karina and Ningning scrambled to find their seatbelts in the back. 

"Hey Heeseung, thanks for this!" you greeted him with a smile, giving him a quick hug. The other girls echoed your sentiment from the backseat. You could say that you were pretty good friends with EpNu's president, as he ran in the same friend group as you not to mention you shared a few classes (and maybe even a few smooches) with him in the past.

"Seriously, don't mention it. It's honestly my pleasure. Plus, I couldn't say no to Jungwon when he asked. I don't know how he does it, but that kid is really good at making you want to do anything for him," Heeseung said, crinkling a warm smile as he navigated the car out onto the road. 

"Oh, I know. He's literally so cute! You boys did really good with rush this semester," Karina chimed in from the back. Your big was the VP of Recruitment this year, so she knew exactly how impressive it was to have a successful recruitment. 

"They always do. I mean, EpNu's always top tier, which is why I'm even more looking forward to tonight," Ningning's grin widens as she chimes in. 

"Damn, now you've got all the pressure on us to deliver to your expectations." Heeseung laughed, playfully acknowledging the challenge, "Well, seriously thanks. And it seems like AES also had no issues getting their top choice in PNMs. A bunch of us drove by all the houses on bid day, and it wasn't a surprise, but you guys definitely did the best." 

"Well, you boys better behave tonight because most of our new girls are coming, and they better be treated well. Wonyoung texted me earlier that she, Yujin, and Liz were gonna pre-game before," you informed the group as you approached a familiar house, already bustling with people. 

"Thanks, again Heeseung!" you and the girls chimed as he parked, and everyone started getting out. As the group walked towards the door, you spotted a tall boy with a baby face standing in front, obviously on door duty to make sure no guys other than the EpNu brothers were coming in. "Hey, Niki," Heeseung nodded in acknowledgment, and the younger boy reached out for a high-five. 

"Welcome in, ladies! Enjoy yourselves and let any of us know if you need anything. You are our guests tonight!" The young pledge, Niki, said with a big smile as he turned to you and the girls. He was obviously full of excitement with the greeting he gave you all. 

"Aww, he's so sweet!" Giselle gave the younger boy one of her award-winning smiles, and you and the girls laughed as you could see Niki blushing furiously at the interaction. 

Heeseung shook his head, laughing along. "Well, I'm gonna go find the rest of the guys, and like Niki said, find me if you guys need anything. Have fun!" He gave you a small wink before leaving you and the girls in the foyer.

As Heeseung walked away, Winter leaned into you with a mischievous look on her face and poked your side. "Man, Heeseung's so cute, Y/N. I don't know why you've never done anything with him. I mean, he's obviously interested," she whispered. 

You playfully rolled your eyes before replying, "I don't know, I think my crush on him just kinda wore off but if you want him, then go ahead." 

You then took the opportunity to grab the girls and lead them to the kitchen, eager to get the party started. You knew that’s where they kept the good stuff. And by good stuff, you meant alcohol. You hoped Jungwon wasn't lying about the Pink Whitney.

As you entered the kitchen, you see a few EpNu brothers that you recognized, already drinking and having a good time. They waved at you and the girls, inviting you to join them. You spotted the promised bottle of Pink Whitney sitting in all its glory on the island with a sticky note specifically with your name on it so you didn’t hesitate to reach for it and take a swig. The sweet, tangy taste hit your tongue, and you could feel the alcohol warming you up from the inside. 

"Ah, I was wondering when you guys would show up," Jay greeted the group with his usual confident demeanor, reaching for the Pink Whitney bottle on the counter to pour himself a shot. You swatted at his hand, but he was already successful in pouring and knocking back the alcohol. You gave him a glare and punched his arm, but he didn’t even spare you a look as he pretended as if nothing had happened. 

"No, Jay, you were wondering when Ningning would come," Karina interjected with a smirk. 

"Yeah, you're not very subtle," Giselle added, and you and Winter couldn’t help but giggle as Ningning's cheeks turned pink. 

Jake, standing next to Jay, let out a loud cackle. "Damn, bro, they're already on your ass!" He reached over to fist-bump Karina and Giselle, and you all join in on the friendly teasing. Jay always seemed to become the target of everyone's jokes, but his reactions make it all worth it. 

"Alright, alright, you girls are ruthless," Jay shook his head sheepishly but didn't try to hide his arms wrapping around Ningning's shoulders. 

"Looks like Ningning and I are gonna have to find somewhere else to hang out where there’s more friendlier company. See ya, losers!" he playfully jabbed before leading Ningning out of the kitchen.  

You all laugh at his response, waving goodbye to your friends. Despite all the teasing, you couldn't help but think that the two were adorable. While they weren't officially together, everyone knew they were seeing each other semi-seriously, so none of this was a surprise and in fact, you were very much in support of the relationship.

As soon as Jake took a step closer to you, your instincts kicked in and you held the pink bottle closer to yourself. "So Y/N, you're cradling that bottle like it's your baby or something. Not thinking of sharing it anytime soon?" he teased, raising an eyebrow in your direction. 

"Oh hell no. If you know Y/N, then you know how precious Pink Whitney is to her," Winter shook her head before adding, "You'll probably have an easier time getting into her pants than getting her to share." 

You all chuckle at her remark, but deep down, you knew it was true. Pink Whitney was your absolute favorite drink - a perfect mix of sweetness and potency that always left you having the best night of your life.

"Is that a challenge?" Jake raised an eyebrow in your direction, but you were quick to react in disgust. 

"No chance Jake. Get the hell away from me. I don't know what kind of diseases you have with the way you sleep around!" Sure, Jake was attractive - but he was also a notorious womanizer who liked to sleep with anything that moved. You weren’t interested. 

"Yeah, get away from her, you horny bastard," Giselle added, teasingly holding you in her arms like a protective mother. 

Offended, Jake let out a loud and playful scoff. "Whatever, it's your loss," he said before pouring out four shots of Tito's for himself, Karina, Giselle, and Winter. "None for you, Y/N, since you're not willing to share. Neither am I."

As you watched the three throw their heads back and wince at the afterburn that came with the vodka your eyes started wandering around seeing who else was at the party. You couldn’t seem to locate any of your new sisters and frowned a bit as you were looking forward to seeing the girls. Like Heeseung mentioned earlier, AES definitely got the top picks in PNMs and you really enjoyed this year’s class. You were even hoping on picking up Wonyoung as your little and just at the thought a smile appeared on your face so you decided to shoot the younger girl a text asking if she was here yet.

Another swig from your bottle and you realized that the usual EpNu trio was missing one member. 

"Hey, where's your triplet?" you asked Jake, who was now making a concoction for Karina that you knew she would regret tomorrow.

"Why? Wanna fuck Sunghoon instead?" Jake quipped back playfully, and you played along.

"I mean, he has a better chance than you," you joked, "but seriously, you three always go everywhere together. I wouldn't be surprised if you go to the restroom together."

Karina winced as she took a drink from Jake's concoction (you knew it was gonna be bad) before giggling. "Well, actually, we’ve caught them all in the bathroom together before. Do you guys remember--" she started to say before Jake covered her mouth with his hand.

You're flooded with memories of witnessing Sunghoon and Jay holding Jake up, watching as Sunghoon lost a game of rock-paper-scissors to Jay and ended up having to pull the trigger for his friend. It was a cringe-worthy moment that Jake clearly didn’t want to relive, and you couldn’t blame him. 

The girls erupted in laughter at the memory, their cackles echoing through the kitchen. Sunghoon's face, twisted in a mix of disgust and determination, before he plunged his fingers down his best friend's throat in a desperate attempt to induce vomiting, was unforgettable. The mere thought of it made him scrub his hands with industrial soap for weeks. 

Giselle, struggling to catch her breath between bouts of laughter, managed to gasp out, "That's one of the funniest things I've ever seen!" She turned to Jake, wagging her finger, "Better be careful with your drinks, don't want you to traumatize Jay and Sunghoon again." 

Winter, seizing the opportunity, snatched the vodka bottle out of his hand, chuckling to herself. "Speaking of restrooms, I need to go. Anyone else want to follow?" 

Without a second thought, Giselle grabbed Winter's hand and dragged her out of the kitchen, blowing kisses and waving to the remaining guests. 

Left alone with your big and a pouty Jake, you were about to respond when you felt a sudden force collide with your back. Your brother had arrived, his giddy self already a couple of drinks in. You hugged him back, unable to resist his infectious energy. 

"Karina noona, you're here too!" he exclaimed, rushing over to her and hugging her as well. Jake had to pry Jungwon off Karina, holding him still. "Hey, kid, how much have you had? You gotta pace yourself," Jake said, ruffling his hair. 

Jungwon hummed, "Seriously, not that much, I promise. I think it's actually the edible finally kicking in." He paused, then added, "Anyways, you don't have to worry. I'm not a lightweight like you, hyung." Jake was left with his mouth agape, stunned by the younger boy's audacity. 

"What is this, gang up on Jake day?" he muttered incredulously. “Whatever I’m gonna go find Sunghoon, you guys deal with his drunk ass,” Jake then gave Jungwon a final pinch on the cheek before leaving.

“What’s up his ass?” You and Karina laughed while Jungwon frowned obviously oblivious to all that had happened before his arrival. 

Karina once again winced after finishing her drink. "Don't worry about it, baby Yang. Anyways, where've you been?" she asked. You took her cup and grabbed the cranberry juice to make her another drink, confident that your vodka cran would be much easier to handle than whatever Jake had given her. 

"Just around with Yeonjun hyung," you heard Jungwon say and from your peripheral you caught your friend becoming much more interested in what Jungwon was saying after the older boy’s name was brought up. 

"Where's he at?" you asked, to which your brother pointed vaguely in a direction outside the kitchen.

"Well, I haven't seen him in a bit, so I'm gonna go and see if he wants to catch up," Karina said which leads to you and Jungwon sharing a snicker as the two of you knew this was her way of saying she was going to go and see if he wanted to hook up. 

"Use protection, babe!" your brother giggled as you shouted out at her. She flipped you off, but you knew it was all in good fun. 

"So, Jungwon, what about you? Anyone on your radar?" you asked, feeling it was your duty to keep tabs on your brother's love life. Who else would protect him from crazy girls if not you, his older sister? 

"I mean, I'm not really looking for anything, but..." Jungwon trailed off, and you knew that meant he definitely had someone in mind. So, you decided to probe him further, after all, you were a nosy bitch. 

You snaked your arm around his shoulders to pull him closer to you, "C'mon Wonie, you gotta let me in on what's going on! You're always up in my business, so consider this me returning the favor." 

"Well..." he began drifting off again, but you gave him a small pinch. "Okay, okay, fine! I don't know, I mean, Wonyoung’s kinda cute," he shyly revealed, his eyes not meeting yours. 

Your mouth widened. This was news to you, but you weren't mad at all with his confession. In fact, millions of thoughts on how to bring the two together were flying through your mind. Now that he mentioned it, you thought the two would be absolutely adorable together, and it got you excited. 

"Oh my gosh, you have a crush!" you basically screamed out to everyone in the kitchen, and your brother panicked while shushing you. 

"Y/N! Shut up!" He attempted to calm you down and unfortunately failed.

"She's coming tonight! Wait, she might already be here!" you quickly checked your phone, and you were right. The younger girl had texted you that she was at the house about 15 minutes ago, and this instantly kick-started your body to go hunt her down. 

"Let's go," you said with determination as you dragged Jungwon out of the kitchen, with one arm linked with his and the other still cradling your beloved bottle. 

The party was at full force by now, and the sheer number of people was jaw-dropping. But to you, finding your future little was the only thing on your mind. 

Outside, Ningning and Jay could be seen conversing with one another on the couch, and you only spared them a small wave. Your brother, on the other hand, mouthed "help" quite dramatically  to them, but his cries went unnoticed. Realistically, finding the girl was going to be a challenge, but you were once a freshman like Wonyoung was, so you roughly knew how her mind worked. At least how a freshman sorority girl’s party-hungry mind worked. At a frat party like this, if you weren't by where all the drinks were, then you were most likely where all the dancing was happening. At the EpNu's house, this would be in the basement.

"Y/N, hold on, you don't even know where she is!" You rolled your eyes at your brother's lack of faith in your ability to locate Wonyoung. He seemed to forget that you had a talent for finding people in crowded spaces. But you didn't waste your breath arguing with him. 

Descending the stairs to the basement, the music blasted through the speaker system, and the smell of sweat filled your nostrils. You knew that EpNu's parties were always wild, but tonight's was on another level. Bodies swayed and bumped into each other as they danced to the latest pop hit you vaguely remembered hearing from TikTok.

Your brother's complaints by now had faded away, and you both scanned the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Wonyoung. Suddenly, as if luck was on your side, you spotted Yujin, one of your sorority’s new members and Wonyoung's best friend, dancing with some other familiar faces. You tighten your grip on Jungwon's arm before leading him through the crowd towards your target. 

As you approached the group of girls, they greeted you with warm smiles and even a few hugs. It was clear that they were all having a good time, most of them with drinks in their hands. You remembered how you were during your first few parties as a freshman. Those were definitely some of the wildest nights of your life.

"Hey, girls! It's so great to see everyone! I hope you all mentioned Jungwon's name at the front," you said, pushing your brother forward. He awkwardly waved and thanked them, clearly grateful for you coming through in getting him so many names. 

"Well I just wanted to stop by and say hi. Have so much fun you guys and stay safe! Oh, and by the way, did any of you come with Wonyoung? I have something of hers that I'd like to return." Your small fib got Yujin to point towards the area where the kegs were located, and you thanked her and waved goodbye to the girls before taking Jungwon's arm once again to move towards your goal. 

"Wonyoung! I finally found you!" You hugged her tightly, feeling happy to see her again. 

"Oh my gosh, Y/N. I was just about to text you!" Wonyoung exclaimed before noticing the figure behind you. 

"Hey, you guys have met before, right?" You tried to introduce Jungwon into the conversation, as naturally as possible. 

"Yeah, Jungwon. Nice to see you again!" Wonyoung reached out to give him a small hug, and you could tell even with the dark lighting that he was blushing. 

"Hey, Wonyoung! Glad to see you here. Are you having fun?" Jungwon asked shyly. You couldn't help but feel proud of your matchmaking skills. This was already going so well.

"Oh no, babe. You can't have any of that. It's horrible!" You decided to give the two the final push in getting closer and pointed at the keg before turning to Jungwon. "You need to show her where you keep the good stuff." You nudged your brother closer to Wonyoung, and before he could say anything, you walked away, feeling like a successful wingwoman. He definitely owed you one.

As you walked out of the crowd, the smile on your face had you completely distracted, until you suddenly collided with a figure. Your feet failed to find their footing and you dropped straight to the floor, feeling wetness all over your back. Fuck, your Pink Whitney. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry! Wait Y/N, fuck are you okay?” The figure quickly picked you up from the floor, but you were too absorbed in mourning the loss of your favorite drink to even register who you ran into. 

As you turned your face towards the person with an angry expression, you were ready to cuss them out until you realized it was a face you recognized. 

“Oh, Sunghoon,” you awkwardly let out, all the previous expressions leaving your face. 

Park Sunghoon was a frequent figure in your life, but you couldn't really say he was one of your closest friends. You were much closer to Jake and Jay than you were to him. The two of you shared many mutual friends and had seen each other at loads of Greek functions and classes, yet moments of just the two of you were next to none. It was always shared with other people, so you could say he was the last person you were expecting. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going. You fell kind of hard, are you okay?” His thick brows furrowed in genuine concern as he gave you a once-over to make sure you weren't sporting any immediate damage.

“It’s okay Sunghoon, I wasn’t looking where I was going either. I think I’m okay, just my bottle of Pink Whitney…” You trailed off, looking back down at the bottle now fully emptied out on the grimy floors of the basement. 

Sunghoon clearly didn’t even notice this before, as his eyes widened at the sight. “Ugh, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he reached down to pick the bottle back up when he realized your entire backside was drenched. 

“Jesus, it’s all on your hair and back, come on,” and with that, he didn’t hesitate to grab your hand and lead you back up the stairs. 

You had never held his hands before, but they were soft and big. Your hands were being dwarfed in his, and you blushed at the realization. 

Lost in your thoughts, you failed to recognize what was happening until you found yourself already upstairs with Sunghoon leading the way towards the fraternity's dorms. You notice Karina sitting on Yeonjun's lap, and she shot you a wink while yelling, "make sure to use protection, babe!" Your face turned red with embarrassment as you realized everyone thought you and Sunghoon were heading upstairs to hook up, which was very much not the case. Wait, why was he leading you upstairs in the first place? 

"Sunghoon, where are we going?" you finally asked as you reach the top of the stairs. 

"My room, duh. You need to change," he responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He takes you to a room far down the left side of the house. 

The room took you aback. Firstly, it smelled amazing, like someone has baked fresh cinnamon buns or something, and secondly, it was clean—really clean, considering it was a frat boy's room. The walls were adorned with posters of bands and movies you liked, and the bed was neatly made, with a warm-looking comforter and fluffy pillows. You couldn’t help but feel a little surprised that Sunghoon has kept his room so tidy. 

"Wow, your room is really nice," you commented, still taking in the neatness. Sunghoon shrugged as he rummaged through his drawers, searching for something. 

"Yeah, I like to keep things tidy. Plus, my mom would kill me if she saw my room in a mess." He chuckled, finally pulling out a t-shirt and a pair of sweats. "Here, you can change into these. The bathroom’s across the hall.”

As you made your way to the bathroom, you couldn't help but smile at the thought of Sunghoon getting scolded by his mom. Unlike the bathroom on the main floor, which was borderline a health hazard, the one that the boys actually used wasn't that bad at all. Of course, it couldn't compare to the amenities of your recently renovated sorority house, but it was surprisingly clean and even had Bath and Body Works foam soap. 

As you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you couldn't help but let out a laugh. Your hair was sticking to your body, and your once-white corset top was stained pink with your favorite drink. You cursed at the sight but quickly got undressed to see if you could at least clean yourself up a little bit. 

Sunghoon had given you an EpNu formal shirt that smelled like him and a pair of sweatpants that were way too big for you. With your hair pulled up into a messy bun and the oversized shirt and rolled-up sweatpants, you looked a little funky, but it was definitely better than being in your sticky, wet clothes.

When you returned to Sunghoon's room, you found him sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone, waiting for you to return. 

"Hey, seriously sorry about everything," he apologized sheepishly once again. But before he could continue, you cut him off. 

"Sunghoon, it's alright. You lent me your clothes, so it's fine. Seriously, stop apologizing," you giggled at his wide-eyed expression. 

"Well, I suppose you don't want to go downstairs wearing that, right?" You nodded, not wanting to face your friends looking like a hot mess. Your urge to party was out the window.

"Oh wait, I forgot! Hold on, wait here," Sunghoon suddenly jumped up and ran out of the room, leaving you puzzled. But before you could even step out to see where he went, he returned, holding something in his hand. 

Wait, is that...? 

"Pink Whitney!" Your face instantly lit up at the sight of your beloved drink, and Sunghoon let out a small laugh at your reaction. The way your entire demeanor changed at the sight of a single bottle of alcohol made him find you even more endearing.

"Wait, where did you get this from?" While not an expensive drink, Pink Whitney wasn't a common item at a frat house. It was stereotypically a sorority girl's drink, which made sense since that's what you were. 

"I remembered that one of our pledges, Niki, brought some bottles of alcohol back to the house a couple of days ago, and this was one of them." Ah, Niki was the cute boy you remembered being on door duty. 

"I don't want to steal from him!" You shook your head and offered to give the bottle back, but Sunghoon laughed and pushed it back into your arms. 

"It's fine, we'll consider it as him providing drinks to a cute girl." You blushed at his words and quickly thanked him. 

The room was filled with silence as you sat on his bed and he leaned against his desk. This was probably the longest you've talked to Sunghoon one-on-one, and the awkward tension was palpable. 

"Uhm, well, do you want to share?" You finally broke the silence, surprising Sunghoon, who looked confused. He remembered the last time he saw you nursing a bottle of Pink Whitney; you almost beat Jay with the bottle itself for drinking half of it when you weren't looking.

“Are you sure? I mean you’re known for not sharing… I don’t wanna get my ass kicked like Jay,” you rolled your eyes. 

With a playful grin, you open the bottle and took a swig of the vodka and pink lemonade straight from the bottle, the sweet and tangy aroma instantly filling the room. "Well, I think I can make an exception for you," you said, passing the bottle to him, who reciprocated your action. As he took a sip, he turned to you in surprise. 

"Wait, that actually goes down really easy. You can barely taste the vodka," he exclaimed, finally understanding why you favored the drink so much. 

"See, you get it now!" You reached out to take another swig, as Sunghoon moved to sit on his bed next to you. 

Suddenly, he asked, "Wanna watch a movie?" It wasn't a bad idea, considering you wanted to drink and didn't feel like going downstairs. You easily agreed and adjusted yourself underneath his cozy duvet, as he reached for the remote. 

Netflix popped up on the screen, and the two of you debated over some of the options that were presented to you until something caught both of your attentions. 

"Boss Baby?"

You woke up to a dry mouth and a blinding light that made it hard for your eyes to adjust. As you tried to take in your surroundings, confusion only intensified. Where were you? This wasn’t your usual room with your roommate across from you in her pink sheets; instead, you were met with a desk, clothes on the ground, and an empty bottle of Pink Whitney nearby. 

Suddenly, a groan came from next to you and an arm tugging your bare waist interrupted your thoughts, making you realize that you were naked next to another nude body. You panic and widened your eyes as you tried to recall how this could've happened. Unlike you, Sunghoon, your friend and now bedmate, was still sound asleep, cuddled up to you with soft snores escaping his lips. The last thing you remember was friendly exchanges and laughter while watching Boss Baby on the screen. How did it end up with you naked in his bed? The thought of you fucking while Boss Baby played in the background made you want to hurl, and you quickly stood up wincing in pain as you felt the tightness in your inner thighs confirming that you did indeed have sex. Nevertheless, you tried your best to ignore the burn and reached for your clothes (well, technically, his) on the floor. 

Sunghoon woke up to your movements, letting out a low groan before he realized the situation and sat up in a panic, his face filled with horror. You were half-dressed, wearing only his shirt, when your eyes met. It was as if the two of you were frozen in time, neither knowing how to approach the situation. Fortunately, the awkward tension was broken when the door opened. 

“Hey hyung do–” Niki's eyes widened as he took in the scene, and it was as if none of you knew how to move. Before you could say anything to the pledge, his mouth opened, and he screamed out, “Jungwon! Hey Jungwon, come over here quick!” That little shit. 

As if on cue, your younger sibling sauntered in with a toothbrush in his mouth, looking barely awake. But as soon as he took in the scene, his mouth immediately widened and toothpaste dropped from his mouth and onto the floor.

“What the fuck!” The scream Jungwon let out was the loudest you think you’ve ever heard your brother being. 

By now, Niki could be seen cackling behind Jungwon. The boy you had once thought was a cutie was officially on your shit list. You regretted ever complimenting Heeseung on his group of pledges. 

“Why are you naked?” Your brother shrieked out as you struggled to form any words. 

“Well they obviously fucked,” Niki once again added more fuel to the fire that he had started not giving a shit about the mess.

“Get out! The both of you!” Sunghoon was finally able to yell out as you walked over to push your brother out and shut the door on the two pledges. Protests from your brother could be heard but your quick reflexes kicked in as you quickly locked the door. Slowly you turned back around to face Sunghoon.

“Shit Sunghoon I don’t remember anything,” you softly said to the boy who had yet to have moved from his bed. 

“I don’t either other than fucking Boss Baby.” If this was any other situation, you would be laughing but you weren’t. Obviously, neither of you planned on sleeping with one another so how did you end up like this? 

The only culprit your eyes could find was the empty bottle of Pink Whitney lying on the ground. Never once had Miss Whitney done you dirty but here you were with more than half of the night missing from your memories.

You quickly reached down to throw Sunghoon his clothes as you searched for your panties which seemed to be missing. 

“What do we do now?” Sunghoon broke the awkward silence. You had no idea I mean you’ve never slept with any of your brother’s friends before and one-night-stands were not really your thing so you were lost for words.

As you tried to gather your mind to respond you realized something that made you freeze. Karina’s words echoed in your mind. “Make sure to use protection babe!” 

You quickly scrambled to the small trashcan next to his desk and rummaged around. Out of confusion of your action, Sunghoon moved to hover over you in hopes to figure out what you were doing. He inquired about your actions but you ignored him. There was no evidence of any protection used and you whipped your head towards him.

“Did we use a condom?” Your frantic eyes took Sunghoon aback but he tried his best to remember. 

“Uhm I’m not sure… But I’m clean so it’s fine.” No sir, it was indeed not fine as you were recently taken off your birth control as it was giving you lots of hormonal troubles. 

“Sunghoon I’m not on birth control!” You screamed out as the color from his face completely drained.

As if a bucket of ice-cold water was poured over you, panic set in as soon as you realized the gravity of the situation. Your heart raced faster than ever before, and adrenaline pumped through your veins like a rushing river. You frantically began putting the sweatpants on, and with a speed you never knew you were capable of, you finished dressing and yanked Sunghoon out of the room. The two of you ran down the stairs, passing by a couple of Sunghoon's bewildered brothers, who looked at the two of you with confusion etched on their faces. 

The house was a complete mess, but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you spotted your brother still in shock on the couch, with Niki and Jake flanking him on either side. He got up, ready to confront the both of you, but instead, you pushed him aside and made a beeline for the door. 

"Where are you going?" He screamed out, trying to chase after you. 

"She's not on birth control!" Was all Sunghoon could yell out before he followed you to his car, and you both quickly got in.

“What the fuck! You got my sister pregnant?!” Was what most of the EpNu brothers woke up to that lovely Friday morning. 

You have always been an advocate for safe sex yet here you were sitting on the hood of Sunghoon’s car reading the directions on how to take Plan B. He was peering intensely at you with the bottle of water clenched tightly in his hands. 

You gingerly popped the pill out of its package and said a little prayer before popping it and chugging the water that Sunghoon was holding. The $50 pill had better work, or you'd be suing. 

Sunghoon looked at you with concern still present on his face. The two of you had run into the pharmacy demanding the morning-after pill, looking like a couple of hot messes. “Are we good now?” he asked tentatively.

“I mean, probably. If not, I'm actually going to sue Plan B," you responded with a stern tone, making Sunghoon wonder whether you were serious or not. He wisely chose not to question you and nodded in agreement.

As you drove back to the house, the silence was palpable, but the panic had subsided. You were still reeling from the fact that you had slept with Sunghoon.

“You think Jungwon’s gonna kill me?” Sunghoon's question made you chuckle, despite the tension that lingered in the air. You knew your brother Jungwon didn't have a violent bone in his body, but then again you had also never been in any situation like this before so you really didn’t know. 

"I mean, he can try, but I doubt it'll be fatal. You've got a good couple of inches over him, you'll be fine," you reassured Sunghoon, but this didn’t do much to ease the boy. 

He did bring up a good point though as you knew that dealing with Jungwon was going to be a pain in the ass. While he had never had issues pertaining to your love life, it had also never involved a friend of his before. The fact that he was present to witness the aftermath of you and Sunghoon's drunken hookup made your head pound with worry. As Sunghoon parked the car back at the house, you braced yourself for the inevitable confrontation with your brother.

“You gotta hold me back if we see Niki, I might actually go after him,” you grumbled while walking up to the door. 

"Go ahead, I'm not gonna hold you back. He deserves it," Sunghoon laughed, momentarily easing the anxiety in your chest. But as soon as you entered the house, the anxiety came back with a vengeance.

The two of you were met with multiple pairs of eyes staring straight at you. It was as if everyone was waiting on the couch for the two of you to get back. Then out of nowhere, you see Ningning running up to you and giving you a tight hug.

“Jake ran around the whole house screaming that Sunghoon got you pregnant!” She cupped (more like squished) your cheeks together as she harbored wide eyes. 

Your face wrinkled at what she said and you quickly whipped your body to the said boy who seemed to be looking around at everything but your eyes. 

“Jake, what the fuck? I’m not pregnant!” He still had a hard time meeting your eyes indicating guilt. 

“I’m sorry Y/N! You know how dramatic I get! I just couldn’t believe something like this was happening to someone else for once and not me!” His pathetic excuse caused a couple of his brothers to shake their heads in hopes to distance themselves from the Australian’s failed attempts at justifying his actions. 

This group of boys was certainly going to take you to an early grave, and you could do nothing but roll your eyes and let out a sigh before searching for your brother. Surprisingly, he was not present in the group of people (hyenas) waiting at the door for you and Sunghoon's return.

“Where’s Jungwon?” You asked the group and Jay pointed up towards Jungwon’s room.

“I think he’s lowkey traumatized. It’s fine though, Heeseung hyung is with him.” You nodded at Jay and turned around marching up to his room.

You knocked on the door, but there was no immediate response. As you raised your hand to try again, the door opened, and Heeseung greeted you. "Oh, hey Y/N," he scratched his head awkwardly. There was a moment a silence before he spoke again. "Well, I have to get to class, so I'll leave you two to it. Bye, Jungwon. See you later," he said and before you could even say anything back, he left leaving you alone with your brother. 

Unlike Sunghoon, Jungwon had a roommate, probably Niki, making his living space cramped and messy. A small moment of silence passed between the two of you before you decided to speak up. 

"Sorry for this morning," you said, unsure of how he would respond. But instead of being upset, Jungwon looked genuinely confused. 

"What are you sorry for?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. You were taken aback by his response, as you had expected tension between the two of you after the scene he made earlier that morning. 

You paused for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. "I thought you were upset with me for...what happened," you said, not wanting to bring up the embarrassing details of the previous night. 

Jungwon's expression softened. "Oh, no, I was just...surprised, I guess. I mean yeah I was kinda mad that you slept with one of the guys that I was hoping would be my big, well now thinking of it I don’t know if I want my big to be someone who’s been inside of my sister–" you quickly cut him off before he was able to continue on further.

“Ok, I get it no need to go into details!” You protested waving your hands at him as if that would immediately erase what he had just said. Your brother seemed more nonchalant than you though as he just shruged.

“I mean, you were the one doing stuff with Sunghoon hyung, not me! But anyways, I’m probably more mad at him than you. Maybe I’ll drag it along a little further with him. Make him my bitch for a little bit,” he said with an almost mischievous look in his eyes, clearly relishing the idea of getting revenge on his fraternity brother. You couldn’t help but raise an incredulous eyebrow at your brother's words and made a mental note to keep him away from Niki, who you were sure was making an influence on him. 

“Like it’s fine though. Well, not really. It’s gross but whatever I’m not going to judge you for who you sleep with 'cause you don’t do that to me.” You couldn’t help but feel grateful for your brother's words as it was clear that he didn’t want to make things awkward between the two of you. 

“Actually, I do judge you, but I just don't say it out loud all the time,” you teased, hoping to ease the tension. Your brother rolled his eyes at you, but he couldn’t hide the small smile forming on his face. 

“But seriously, neither of us planned this, and we don't remember what happened. So it's almost as if it didn't actually happen,” you explained, hoping to put the situation to rest. “You can forget about all of this because I promise you, I won't be sleeping with Sunghoon, or any of your fraternity brothers anytime soon.” 

You meant what you said. Sunghoon was a mistake, and you blamed it solely on Pink Whitney (and maybe Boss Baby).

“So, I’m guessing you took care of the whole potential pregnancy situation? Because I don’t think I’m ready to be an uncle,” Jungwon asked, his expression serious. You had completely forgotten about that whole part of the ordeal as your stress about Jungwon overpowered everything else. 

“Yeah, we were quick to do a fetus deletus. Plan B was fucking expensive, but I made Sunghoon pay,” you said with a slight shrug. The thought of raising a child right now was terrifying. After all, you were just starting your second year in college. 

Jungwon shook his head before piping up in a much less serious tone. “Have you seen those TikToks of people showing how they were raised by frats and sororities because their parents got knocked up in college? They’re kinda wholesome. Like EpNu could've had your kid as a mascot or something.” 

You rolled your eyes, thinking about the idea of your non-existent child being raised by the Epsilon Nu brothers (specifically Jake). “Not happening, at least not to me. So, you can let go of that fantasy of yours,” you said firmly before standing up and heading downstairs, with Jungwon following closely behind.

To say the week after the party was unremarkable was an understatement. In fact, you were surprised at how fast people got over what had happened seeing as they made such a big deal out of it on Friday morning, but you weren’t complaining. Sure the rumor of you being knocked up by Sunghoon (once again, thanks Jake) was passed around like a disease with the amount of YikYak posts talking about how you were getting kicked out of your sorority for being pregnant but as soon as you showed up to class on Monday in your letters, everyone went quiet realizing that none of it was true. Plus, the glares that Karina shot at the new members during chapter the second she saw anyone whisper or point at you was quite effective. 

“So are your parents coming down for the weekend?” Winter asked out of nowhere while she plucked her eyebrows. You on the other hand was furiously typing away on ChatGPT to see if it could help you obtain sources for an upcoming paper so her question failed to register in your mind.

“Huh?” Your fingers still continued to type as you slowly peeled your eyes away from your screen to face your best friend.

“Parent’s Weekend? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten I mean both of your parents’ kids are in Greek so I’m guessing they’re both coming at least for the game.” To be honest, you had in fact totally forgotten about reminding your parents about coming but you were sure that your brother at least would have brought it up to them.

“Shit, I totally forgot. Thanks for reminding me I’m gonna call Mom right now,” you thanked her before grabbing your phone and running downstairs to go outside on the porch. 

It took a couple of rings before your mother answered and you were met with her familiar sweet voice, “Hey honey!” A smile instantly lit up on your face.

“Hey Mom, sorry it’s been a while since I’ve called,” you started the conversation, guilt creeping in for not keeping in touch with your parents as much as you should have. “I was just wondering if you and Dad were gonna come down this weekend? Jungwon probably already told you Parent’s Weekend and the game, but I know the both of us would really love having the two of you guys here.” 

As your parents were big fans of football, you knew that your parents were most likely coming. Your mom's response confirmed your assumption, "Yes, your brother did actually call a few days ago. He specifically emphasized Epsilon Nu’s tailgate and how it was going to be amazing. Of course, your father is much more thrilled about that than I am, but I’m just happy to see both my babies." 

You grinned at her words. It was nice to hear her voice again. You missed her and your dad. “That's great to hear, Mom. I can’t wait for you guys to meet some of the new girls. I know the girls would love to see you guys again. Oh, and you have to meet Wonyoung! Jungwon’s got a major crush one her,” you gushed out to her.  

As soon as she heard you, you could feel your mother’s excitement at what you had just said, “Oh my goodness, of course, he didn’t mention anything! What’s she like? Is she an AES girl?” 

You laughed at her eagerness, “She’s such a sweetie and she’s in the pledge class below me so I’ve actually been eyeing her as a potential little. I’ve been really hoping she felt the same way. You’d really like her.” It was as if you had the Midas touch as ever since you forced Jungwon to get closer to Wonyoung, they’ve actually been hitting it off well. He even texted you earlier today asking if you knew her schedule as he wanted to go pick her up after class.

“Wow, that’s wonderful!” Your mom exclaimed. “I can’t wait to meet her. It sounds like your brother is adjusting well to HybeU. How about you, honey? How’s your second year going so far? Any special boys catch your eye?” At her question, your mind instantly went to Sunghoon. 

Wait what the fuck. You were taken aback at what you had just done, but you did your best to brush it off and get back to answering your mom. 

“It’s going great, Mom. Classes are good, and the house is amazing. No boys, though. Well, anyways I actually have to go back to working on my paper, but I can’t wait to see you this weekend. Love you and tell Dad I love him too. Bye!” As your mother bid you goodbye and you ended the call, your mind went back to Sunghoon. Why did he pop back into your mind out of nowhere? You were definitely confused but decided not to probe your mind further and tried your best to focus back on your paper. 

As Saturday quickly arrived, you found yourself sitting in front of your vanity, carefully adding finishing touches to your makeup. Ningning and Giselle were stationed on the floor, equally focused on getting their makeup just right. On the other hand, like always, Winter was furiously debating over her clothing choices for the day. The last of your group, Karina, was probably somewhere downstairs running around and putting final touches on the house as she was tasked with making sure the sorority house looked flawless for the parents. 

“Where are you guys tailgating?” Giselle asked the group. You knew that you were obviously going to head over to the Epsilon Nu house with your parents to see your brother. You also assumed Ningning would probably be going there as well as she previously mentioned wanting to introduce Jay to her parents. 

“Well, I was actually thinking about stopping by the SKZ house just cause I heard there was going to be a mechanic bull,” Winter said while finally deciding on a scarf top and a fringed bottom. 

“Wait I heard that too! My lab partner, Felix was talking about it the other day,” added Giselle, fully convinced by the idea of a mechanical bull.

“That honestly sounds like so much fun, but surprise surprise, I’ll be over at EpNu for obvious reasons,” you said and Ningning shot you an agreeing smile before spraying her face down with an excessive amount of setting spray. 

“What, to introduce your baby daddy to your parents or for Jungwon,” at Winter’s playful remark you quickly threw one of your decorative pillows at her head which she ducked to avoid just in time. You rolled your eyes at the three who were giggling but you knew that the small jokes that your friends had been making all week were all out of fun and harmless so you didn’t actually mind at all.  

“I swear if you guys say anything like that in front of my parents, I will actually kill you,” to which the girls laughed out loud again. You were of course joking as you knew they wouldn’t do anything like that to make you actually uncomfortable. These were your girls and though you had known them for roughly a year, they already felt like lifelong friends to you. 

As if on cue, your phone vibrated, alerting you of a text message from your parents, informing you of their arrival. Hastily, you got up, grabbing your clear purse that was stuffed with your essentials - a small case of Advil, sunglasses, your beloved Dior lip oil, and your sorority stickers and pin. "C’mon, girls. My parents are here. They want to say hi before we head out to see Jungwon," you said and everyone followed suit, grabbing their belongings, and heading down to the foyer. 

As you made your way downstairs, the house was already abuzz with parents. You easily spotted your parents as your mother's recognizable laugh drew you to them. Karina could already be seen giving them a warm welcome, and you saw your mother continuing to laugh while your dad smiled at whatever your big was telling them. 

"Mom, Dad!" you rushed over to give them each a hug. The girls followed suit as they were already well acquainted with your parents. 

"Oh, all you girls look so lovely today!" Your mother beamed at the five of you. It was no secret that your parents deeply approved of your group of friends that you made at HybeU, even inviting them over to your place for a month over the summer. 

"Yes, and the house also looks amazing. I'm guessing Miss Karina had something to do with that?" Your father added, winking at Karina. He was right; while the house always looked great with its marble floor and chandelier, Karina's touch with peonies all over the place elevated it even more. As your friends continue conversing with your parents, you heard someone call your name. 

"Y/N!" You turned around to see Wonyoung waving at you with her parents next to her, looking at you with warm smiles. You had already met them before on bid day. "Oh, hey Wonyoung," you greeted her and you could see lights go off in your mother's mind as she heard her name. "Hey guys, this is Wonyoung. I've told you guys about her," you introduced her and her parents to your own. 

Soon enough, the rest of your friends' parents also found their daughters, and the group all seemed to be getting along well as small talk was shared between everyone. Suddenly, a text from Jungwon interrupted the friendly conversation, reminding you and your parents that you had a place to be. With this, everyone bid your family goodbye before the three of you headed out making your way towards your brother’s frat house. 

The drive to your Jungwon's frat house was short, a mere 7-minute ride away from your sorority's house. As you approached the house, you saw the lawn full of friends and family alike, all sporting a drink in their hands while enjoying whatever was on the grill. Jungwon was easy to spot and as soon as he saw you and your parents walking towards him, his face lit up with excitement. He greeted your parents with a warm hug equally enthusiastic to the one you gave them, and didn’t hesitate to lead your dad to meet the other dads by the grill. You and your mom followed closely behind. 

As you made your way through the crowd, someone offered you a freshly grilled hotdog, which you eagerly accepted. You savored the juicy flavors, when your mother nudged you before saying, "So Jungwon, we just met Wonyoung and she seems like such a lovely young woman. I can see why you’re so fond of her." 

Jungwon, who was in the middle of taking a sip of his White Claw, choked and coughed, trying to regain his composure. His face turned red, and your dad had to pat his back a few times to help him breathe. You couldn’t help but laugh at your brother's discomfort, while your mother feigned ignorance to his reaction and gave him a wink indicating that she knew all about their relationship already, courtesy of you.

"Uh, yeah, Wonyoung's great," Jungwon finally managed to say. "I'm glad you guys got to meet her." 

You could sense your brother sending you a look of annoyance at you for bringing Wonyoung up to your parents before he could have had a chance to, but you ignored him and continued to laugh with your parents. 

You went in to take another bite of the hotdog when you heard your brother say, “Oh, yeah Mom, Dad you have to meet Sunghoon hyung, I’m hoping for him to be my big,” and with that, he turned around and called an unsuspecting Sunghoon over. “Hyung come and meet my parents!” Now it was your turn to choke on your food. You couldn’t believe that your little shit of a brother just Uno reversed you. Touché Jungwon touché.

Sunghoon was taken aback when Jungwon's voice called him over. He was enjoying a drink with Heeseung, their parents engaged in conversation nearby. Jungwon motioned for Sunghoon to join them, and he quickly informed his parents and Heeseung of his departure before making his way towards the group. As he approached, he noticed the two individuals standing beside Jungwon, whom he assumed were your parents. And there you were behind them, seemingly coughing furiously.

As you were recovering from choking, you realized that this was the first time you’d seen Sunghoon since Friday morning. You couldn’t help but check him out. Fuck, he looked real good with his black hair flopping perfectly down his face and school jersey that fit him perfectly. The single gold chain that he was sporting around his neck alone was about to send you into a frenzy.

Sunghoon also noted how pretty you looked however, his thoughts were quickly overtaken by his skepticism of this whole thing. Jungwon had been making him do every little task imaginable during the past week. It started innocently enough, with Jungwon asking for a cup of water or help with assignments from his introductory classes. But the requests escalated, reaching a point where Jungwon even made him go on an alcohol run, a duty specifically assigned to pledges. When Sunghoon tried to protest, Jungwon guilt-tripped him with a dramatic monologue about his traumatized state after witnessing his sister half-naked in Sunghoon's room. Before he knew it, Sunghoon found himself already halfway on his way to the liquor store. Jungwon was diabolical, and Sunghoon couldn't help but think this was his punishment from the heavens for having unprotected sex.

“This is Sunghoon hyung! He’s been one of the guys that took me in with open arms and showed me the ropes around campus and the frat when the semester first started,” Jungwon tightly wrapped his arms around Sunghoon’s shoulder while excitedly introducing him to your parents.

Secretly in Jungwon’s mind, he was laughing his ass off relishing in this. Jungwon was killing two birds with one stone as he was not only getting back at you for telling Mom about Wonyoung and also just messing with Sunghoon for sleeping with you.

"Actually, Sunghoon and Y/N are really close too," Jungwon added with a sly grin. "I believe he even bought her a nice gift last week, worth around $50 or something." He pretended to ponder the details.

Your parents remained oblivious as they greeted Sunghoon, but both he and you were taken aback by Jungwon's audacity. Sunghoon found it difficult to meet your parents' eyes, especially your father's, but he mustered his composure and extended his hand for a handshake.

"Oh, you sound like such a sweetheart!" Your mother exclaimed, already won over by the boy and clearly proud of the company her two children were keeping at school.

"Absolutely, son. It's a pleasure to meet you," your father chimed in a wide grin on his face. He even reached down from the cooler to hand Sunghoon a can of beer, a gesture symbolizing his gratitude.

Out of nowhere, Sunghoon felt a hand come down his shoulders and as he turned around he saw that his parents had joined him. 

A sigh of relief escaped Sunghoon as he sensed your own tension easing upon the arrival of his parents. Your eyes met, conveying a shared feeling of relief, before diverting your attention back to his parents, warmly introducing yourself to them.

"I can already tell how well-behaved your son is, not to mention how handsome!" your mother complimented Sunghoon to his mother. The two women giggled, clearly getting along and enjoying each other's company. The topic swiftly shifted to the upcoming game, with your fathers also having no trouble engaging in a discussion about their predictions. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they failed to notice you harshly slapping the back of your brother's head.

“You fuckhead, you’re such a little shit. I actually hate you so much, I can’t believe you actually did that,” you uttered in a low voice, ensuring none of the parents could overhear. However, the anger in your tone was evident to your brother, and Jungwon started to feel a twinge of fear under the intense gazes both you and Sunghoon were directing at him.

Fortunately (at least for Jungwon), your dad spoke up, extending an invitation to the Parks inviting them to join your family in the stands if they didn't have any other plans. Sunghoon's parents gratefully accepted the offer without hesitation, and as the group made their way toward the school's stadium, you caught sight of a familiar figure across the lawn. It was Ningning, accompanied by Jay and both sets of parents. They all appeared to be getting along well, which made you smile, and you started waving at Ningning, who returned the gesture. However, her expression shifted to one of confusion before a sly smile took over as she noticed the company you were in. She nudged Jay, drawing his attention to you, and the two of them burst into laughter, clearly finding amusement in your current situation. Sunghoon also notices their behavior and sends them a quick finger while rolling his eyes at their antics before guiding you back toward the stadium.

The sun beat down mercilessly as your group finally found a good spot in the stands. Your mom and Sunghoon's mom decided to go to the restrooms while also offering to fetch some water for everyone before the game began. Meanwhile, your dads continued their conversation, and Jungwon appeared engrossed in something on his phone, most likely Wonyoung, you presumed. Silently, you and Sunghoon sat next to each other.

As you were about to say something, he beat you to it, “Think you got enough in there to spare me one?” His smile was playful as he pointed at the plethora of gameday stickers in your bag which reminded you that you had yet to fully decorate everyone in them. 

“Yes, of course! I totally forgot about these,” you quickly said before taking them out and handing him one. You proceeded to put one on your brother and offered them to your dad and even to Sunghoon's dad as well. 

Everyone gladly accepted the stickers, eager to represent your sorority. Your brother, however, delved further into your bag, searching for more to wear.

"Here, take this," he said suddenly, passing what seemed like a spare pin you had in your bag to Sunghoon. The pins were not as readily distributed as the stickers since they were typically worn by sorority members or their significant others. You knew what Jungwon was up to when he handed a pin to Sunghoon, but before you could say anything, Sunghoon didn't hesitate to accept it and pin it to his shirt.

The nonchalant way in which he accepted one of your pins caught you off guard and caused a blush to rise to your cheeks. While Sunghoon was undeniably one of the most attractive guys you had ever met and always kind, he had never really captured your attention before. So, what had changed now to make you feel this way toward him?

Lost in your thoughts, you were snapped back to reality by the return of Sunghoon's mother and your own, carrying cold and refreshing drinks. Gratefully, you accepted one and gulped down the water, hoping it would quell the butterflies fluttering in your stomach because of the boy sitting next to you.

"Oh, you guys look so cute with the matching pins! Perfect for the game. Come on, let me get a quick photo of you two before it starts," Sunghoon's mom exclaimed excitedly as she noticed the pin that had previously not been on her son's shirt, swiftly grabbing her phone.

"Mom, I think we're fine. You don't—" Sunghoon tried to protest, but his mother paid no heed, cutting him off and insisting on taking a picture. Following suit, your mother pulled out her phone, eager to capture the moment as well.

Unable to resist their wishes, you and Sunghoon obliged, striking a pose. His arm draped effortlessly around your waist as you leaned closer to him, both of you wearing beaming smiles. Soon after, your brother was ushered to join, and the parents took turns capturing photos of the three of you before the game finally started.

During the kickoff, your phone buzzed with a text notification from your mom. Opening it, you found that she had sent over the pictures taken moments ago. Another text arrived, causing you to look up at your mother, who gave you a subtle wink.

“No boys my ass. He’s a cute one.” 

Anticipation had filled the air as everyone gathered for the game, confident that your school would emerge victorious. As the final whistle blew and the outcome proved them right, the festive mood carried on well into the night. However, the time had come for you and your parents to bid farewell to the group and make your way to the sorority's dinner, specially arranged for Parent's Weekend. Parting ways with the rest of the group, you couldn't help but appreciate the sight of everyone getting along. Surprisingly, even Sunghoon appeared less tense around your dad, their bond strengthened through the shared excitement of the game. Your parents even exchanged contact information before saying their goodbyes, showering your brother with warm hugs before he joined Sunghoon and his parents, who kindly offered him a ride back to the frat house.

The remainder of the night unfolded smoothly as your parents enjoyed their dinner, engrossed in conversations with other parents at the table. The topic of Sunghoon didn't resurface for the rest of the evening, as everyone was caught up in socializing and making connections. Even you, for a brief moment, managed to forget that you had spent nearly the entire day in Sunghoon's presence. However, that respite of course vanished the second you walked into your room.

To your surprise, Ningning and Giselle were seated on Winter's bed, sharing a bag of chips when you walked in. Their unexpected presence caught you off guard, especially since your actual roommate wasn't even around. As soon as they laid eyes on you, they bombarded you with a barrage of questions, eager for all the details.

"What happened? Ningning told me she saw you with Sunghoon and his parents!" Giselle quickly ushered you to sit between her and Ningning, the latter's hand freezing mid-air as she pulled it back from the chip bag, eager to not miss a single detail of your story.

"It was all Jungwon. I spilled the beans to Mom about him and Wonyoung, so he decided to get back at me by introducing Sunghoon to our parents," Ningning snickered, earning a disapproving look from you before you continued. "It was so fucking awkward, I swear I thought I was going to strangle Jungwon right then and there. He even mentioned how Sunghoon supposedly 'bought me a $50 gift,' and Sunghoon looked like he was going to pass out next to my dad." At this, neither could contain their giggles which in turn transformed into full-fledged cackles with Giselle even seeming to be sporting tears. 

"Hold on a sec, Karina needs to be here for this," Ningning exclaimed before rushing out the door to find your big.

"Where's Winter?" you asked Giselle, as her laughter started to subside.

Giselle wiped at her teary eyes. "Oh, I introduced her to Felix, the SKZ lab partner I mentioned earlier, at the tailgate and they hit it off really well. Like she was with him the whole day and is at the SKZ house right now. She’s probably partying with him."

You noded, at least your roommate was having fun living her best life. The door then slammed open, as Ningning returned hand in hand with Karina. Karina swiftly took a seat on the ottoman next to Winter's bed, eagerly requesting you to recount what she had just heard from Ningning. Unsurprisingly, she joined in the chorus of laughter as you told her exactly what you told the other two, "Fuck, Y/N your little brother is an absolute legend!"

"Whatever. If my dad ever found out what those fifty dollars were actually spent on, Sunghoon would probably be six feet under by now," you muttered, silently grateful that your brother didn't delve further into the specifics.

You decided to shift the focus away from yourself and directed it towards Ningning, who seemed to have had an eventful day as well. "Hey, how did your parents like Jay?" you inquired, and her face immediately lit up. She eagerly delved into how her parents adored Jay and even extended an invitation for him to come visit their home one day. Ningning also revealed that she and Jay discussed taking their relationship to the next level and making it official, prompting squeals of joy from you and the other girls. Finally, you thought, it took them long enough. 

Suddenly, Karina gasped, capturing everyone's attention to her phone. "Y/N, look at what Sunghoon just posted on Instagram!" She thrusted her phone in front of your face, revealing the photo that was taken by your moms posted with the caption, "Thanks, Mom, for this one! Also, peep the matching pins :)"

Your jaw dropped in astonishment, and you instinctively reached for your phone to confirm the post's existence. More squeals fill the room as the other girls examined the post. Your notifications confirmed that Sunghoon indeed shared the photo, as Instagram alerted you that you were tagged in a post.

"Y/N, he definitely likes you! There's no way he would post you on his main if he wasn't interested," Giselle exclaimed, her eyes brimming with excitement as she swiftly liked the post and contemplated a comment.

Ningning fervently nodded in agreement. "The caption says it all!"

However, you were too shocked to respond to the girls' remarks. Could they be right? Did Sunghoon actually have feelings for you? 

"Not just a sticker, but a pin," Karina wiggled her eyebrows while nudging you. "You sly girl, it's like you were claiming him."

"No, that was Jungwon’s doing again," you rolled your eyes, yet deep down, you wondered if Jungwon's mischievous act inadvertently worked in your favor. Was this his way of paying you back for what you had done for him with Wonyoung on Thursday night? 

"All right, but the real question is: Do you like Sunghoon?" Giselle's question hung in the air, causing the room to fall silent as all eyes focused on you.

"Um, I'm not sure," you pondered, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Honestly, I've never really paid much attention to Sunghoon before this semester like he’s just been one of the guys in our friend group, but after the party, he keeps coming up in my thoughts. I'm not sure if that means I like him, but maybe?" Your answer seemed to have left the girls satisfied as they enveloped you in tight hugs.

"Oh my gosh, my baby's in love!" Karina dramatically exclaimed, pretending to wipe away tears.

"I never said I was in love with him!" you retorted playfully, though a smile graced your face as the realization that you might have a crush on Sunghoon sank in.

"You have to text him right now!" Ningning insisted, passing your phone to you and urging you to open the messaging app swiftly.

"What am I supposed to say? Don't you think it's weird for me to text him out of the blue?" You felt a hint of apprehension, unsure about taking the plunge. 

"Babe, you literally spent the whole day with him, and he just posted a picture with you! He practically made the first move and is begging you to react!" Giselle interjected, snatching your phone from your hand and swiftly typing something, with the other girls huddled by her side, nodding in approval.

"Here, send this," she said, and as you read the message she wrote, you were impressed. It sounded natural and confident: 

"Just saw the post. Feeling honored to have made it to the main, but you do realize this means you won't be able to rep any other sorority from now on?"

"You have to send it, Y/N. It's perfect," Karina pleaded, her excitement palpable. Your finger hovered over the send button, contemplating whether to go through with it or not. Saying a small prayer, you took a deep breath and pressed the button, unleashing a wave of anticipation.

You gasped in excitement as you saw the typing indicator appear instantly, and the room filled with a collective hush as everyone gathered around the phone, their eyes fixed on the screen, waiting anxiously for Sunghoon's response. And then, the message appeared: 

"Wouldn't dream of it ;)" 

In an instant, everyone in the Alpha Epsilon Sigma house could hear screams of joy erupting from your room. 

The following two weeks breezed by, filled with steady and playful exchanges between you and Sunghoon. You were pleasantly surprised by how genuinely funny he was, as his late-night texts consistently left you in fits of laughter, desperately trying to stifle your giggles so as not to wake up Winter. It was remarkable to think that you and Sunghoon hadn't had much one-on-one interaction before this semester because his personality complemented yours so perfectly. The two of you were quick to make a habit of walking to classes together and you even found yourself going over to his every other night to watch Love Island. Spending time with him suddenly became the highlight of your days. Even your friends were picking up on how well the relationship was developing based on your mood. Just last night, Jungwon (who was also still upset with the fact that Sunghoon only posted the photo of you two and none that included him) even texted you, telling you to stop distracting Sunghoon from their big/little bonding dinner. He even went as far as to complain about how he felt like a third wheel. It was safe to say that the both of you were completely smitten with each other.

While your social life seemed to be thriving, school on the other hand was not as kind to you.  You were really struggling with a couple of the assignments, specifically a 12-page sociology paper that you were only halfway done with that was due tomorrow. Clearly, procrastination was something you struggled with. Determined to find a conducive environment that could fuel you to stay concentrated on finishing it by tonight, you decided to head to the library. As you typed away on your computer, nodding your head to the rhythm of the music flowing through your headphones, a cup of iced coffee suddenly materialized before you.

You whipped your head around to be greeted with Sunghoon's familiar dimpled smile. He was casually dressed in an EpNu shirt and gray sweatpants with his backpack lazily hung over one shoulder, but he looked effortlessly attractive like it was borderline criminal that it caused an immediate smile to spread across your face.

"It's for you," he said, his smile still beaming. "I noticed you were here and thought you could use a little pick-me-up." He was absolutely right, and you gratefully reach over to take a sip of the coffee, feeling already an instant rejuvenation and you let out a sigh of relief.

"You're an angel, Park Sunghoon, I swear," you exclaimed, to which he chuckled. "Wanna join me?" You gestured to the empty space in front of you, and he nodded before settling down across from you and unpacking his belongings.

"Studying for an upcoming exam?" he questioned, gesturing towards the open book beside your computer.

"No, it's a paper, but it's sucking all the energy out of me. I have to write 12 pages by tomorrow, and it's been a struggle. So, expect me to be here all night," you admited, feeling the stress weigh on you. However, deep down, you knew you were more than capable if you just focused hard enough.

He exhaled audibly upon hearing your plans before offering, "I could keep you company until you finish. If you're okay with that, of course."

His response caught you off guard, and your eyes widened. "Oh, no, seriously, you don't have to do that. I don't want you to waste your night here with me when you probably have better things to do," you quickly dismissed his offer, feeling that it would be too unfair to accept.

"Y/N, you do realize that I'm also a student, right?" he chuckled lightly before adding, "I have an anatomy test next week that I've been putting off, so this will help me out too."

Although you still felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that he had his own studying to do eased your mind. "Okay, well, in that case, you're more than welcome. But seriously, don't feel obligated to wait for me to finish. If you're done studying and want to leave, go ahead!"

With a nod of agreement, he retrieved his computer and textbook. Hours slipped by unnoticed as you delved deeper into your essay, your focus unwavering. It was only when you by chance took a glance outside that you realized the sun had long disappeared, leaving behind the blanket of a starry night sky. You now only had a couple of pages left before you would be able to submit your assignment. Sunghoon, too, has been deep in concentration, his handsome face displaying a serious expression. Though you exchanged words from time to time, you both managed to dive back into your work seamlessly. If you had known that studying with Sunghoon could be so enjoyable and productive, you would have made him your study buddy much earlier. 

"Wanna take a break?" he broke the silence as you finished a sentence, and you looked up to see him stretching his back.

"Yeah, I think we're way overdue for one. Wanna check out what they have at the vending machines?" you suggested. With that, you and Sunghoon left your belongings at the desk and made your way towards the front of the library, where an array of snacks and drinks awaited you.

After contemplating for a moment, you decided to grab a bag of chips and a Gatorade from the vending machines. Sunghoon followed suit, opting for a bottle of Gatorade and a candy bar. Back at your table, the two of you munched away on your chosen snacks.

"You know anything about what the upcoming social is going to be about?" Sunghoon asked, finishing his candy bar. Your sorority and Sunghoon's fraternity were organizing a joint social event this weekend, but unlike previous occasions, they've kept the theme a secret.

"No idea, but I could probably get Karina to spill the beans since she’s on exec, so she probably already knows what’s going on. It's unusual for them to be so secretive," you replied, puzzled by the lack of details. Typically, you would have known about upcoming events months in advance.

"I saw Yeji noona at the house doing something with Heeseung hyung the other day, so I'm guessing they were planning the social. And Jake mentioned that he thinks it's going to be a really big one," Sunghoon shared. The news of your sorority president meeting with EpNu's president caught you off guard. Usually, the planning was left to the social chairs, so their involvement suggested that something significant was in the works.

"I can't even think of a reason why they would need to be involved," you chuckled, a humorous thought crossing your mind. "Imagine if it's a frat wedding."

Sunghoon joins in the laughter. "Can you imagine? I mean it would be a big thing to plan, but there's no way!"

Little did you know... 

"What?" you exclaimed, mouth agape in shock, as Yeji revealed to you on Thursday as soon as you return to the house from your morning class.  

"Yup! I'm going to announce it in the GroupMe tonight, but I wanted to let you know first. EpNu and our sorority decided it would be fun to host a fake wedding since we haven't had one in a couple of years," Yeji explained, confirming the absurd notion you mentioned to Sunghoon earlier in the week. The idea of a fake wedding between the two houses was actually coming to fruition.

"Oh, and I'm giving you an early heads up because we've chosen you and Sunghoon to be our bride and groom," she casually added, causing you to lose all words. "He and his frat are coming over later tonight so that he can 'propose,' and I want you to dress up and look cute. Everyone will probably be taking photos—it's going to be a blast."

You were still processing the news that you and Sunghoon would be the ones tying the fake knot.

"Why us?" you finally managed to ask, feeling a mix of confusion and embarrassment.

"Well, everyone knows there's something going on between the two of you, ever since, you know..." Yeji began, a mischievous smile forming on her face. "Initially, we thought Jay and Ningning would make a good bride and groom, but they're like too in love and would actually make the whole thing like an actual wedding so we decided that it wouldn’t be as fun as having you and Sunghoon. We're even planning to have Jungwon walk you down the aisle, with Niki and Sunoo as the flower girl and ring bearer! And, of course, you'll have the father-daughter dance with Heeseung since he's Sunghoon's big, and vice versa with Sunghoon and Karina, as she's yours. Jake will officiate it cause Lord knows that boy can run his mouth. All you need to do is find an outfit and write your vows!" It became clear why Yeji was involved in the planning with EpNu—they had thought of every detail.

As the shock and apprehension settled in, you found yourself caught between conflicting emotions. The idea of being the center of attention and having an entire night dedicated to you made you nervous, considering you had never experienced anything like it before. And then there was the fact that you would be fake marrying the boy you had a crush on, adding a whole new layer of complexity to the situation. However, amidst the uncertainty, there was an undeniable sense of excitement bubbling within you.

The thought of spending the entire night with Sunghoon, dancing, and even sharing kisses sent a thrill through your veins. Deep down, you couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation that accompanied the idea. With these conflicting thoughts swirling in your mind, all you could manage was a small nod before quickly retreating to your room. 

As the night fell, the anticipation grew, and the house became a flurry of activity. Word had spread quickly, and girls from your sorority kept coming in and out of your and Winter's room, eager to be part of the preparations for tonight's fake proposal. Yujin skillfully curled your hair, while Wonyoung and Winter engaged in a debate over the perfect outfit. Ningning added the final touches to your makeup, and outside, Karina and Giselle scattered rose petals onto the lawn. It seemed like the entire sorority had gathered at the house, each person eager to witness the spectacle. You couldn't help but wonder if a similar scene was unfolding at EpNu.

“They’ll be here in 10 minutes!” Yeji bursted through your room with Lia, another member on exec, excitedly telling everyone.

“Ok, I think we finally got an outfit!” Wonyoung said as she handed you a cute pink dress that had sheer sleeves. You figured it was something of Winter’s since you had never seen this piece ever in your life but you didn’t mind as you put it on carefully trying not to mess Ningning and Yujin’s work. 

Winter then gasped at the sight of you, “You look like such a pretty princess! I can’t believe you’re getting married!” Everyone laughed at your best friend’s dramatic statement. You couldn’t help but agree that you did look really pretty but anxiety was coursing through your body. 

"They're here! Take her to the balcony!" Karina's voice boomed throughout the house, signaling the boys' arrival. Lia swiftly ushered you to the balcony, and as you stepped outside, a sight greeted you that brought forth laughter. 

Roses were scattered everywhere, and the boys of EpNu were standing dressed handsomely. Word had spread like wildfire throughout Greek Row, attracting the attention of other sororities who eagerly gathered to witness the spectacle with their phones out ready to record. Heeseung gestured for the boys to form a semicircle around the balcony, and their melodic voices filled the air as they serenaded you with Taylor Swift's "Love Story." Their harmonies were surprisingly impressive, and Jay's exaggerated riff at the end elicited laughter from the crowd. Then, Sunghoon emerged, wearing a radiant smile and holding a box that presumably contained the fake ring. He approached you, and as he went down on one knee, your heart threatened to burst. He looked absolutely breathtaking as he opened the box, revealing an obnoxious sparkling ring that perfectly fit the occasion. 

"My beloved Y/N, I know this may come as a surprise," Sunghoon began, eliciting laughter from the crowd, due to the irony. "But this morning, I realized that I couldn't envision a future without you. So, if you're willing, would you make me the happiest man at HybeU by saying 'yes' and marrying me this Saturday?" Phones were raised, capturing the moment between you and Sunghoon. With a nod, you set off a resounding cheer that rippled through Greek Row. You quickly went downstairs to join the excited crowd. Sunghoon enveloped you in a warm embrace before sliding the ring onto your finger. The cheers continued, and amidst the flurry of photographs, your brother emerged from the crowd, lifting you off the ground in jubilation.

“My sister’s getting married!” 

Later that night, the video capturing this enchanting moment found its way to your unsuspecting father, plunging him into a state of panic, resulting in a frantic midnight phone call that left you laughing and reassuring him of the truth.

As Yeji had mentioned on Thursday, you only had two tasks to complete before the wedding: finding a dress with a veil and writing your vows. Luckily, Wonyoung came to the rescue, lending you the dress she had planned to wear for initiation. The white, flowing gown was a perfect fit, and to complete the ensemble, your Amazon delivery with your veil came just in time. However, the task of writing your vows proved to be more challenging. Unlike traditional wedding vows, frat wedding vows usually consisted of much more playful banter, which you found incessantly difficult to come up with.

"Stop stressing, Y/N. It's actually quite funny, trust me!" The room was filled with your friends once again as you all prepared for the social. Ningning skillfully applied your makeup, and you couldn't help but admire how stunning you looked.

"Yeah, and by the time of the actual ceremony, everyone will be drunk, so no one will remember if it’s bad," Winter chimed in, carefully adjusting the veil atop your head.

"Ugh, I just don’t like being the center of attention," you confessed. Presenting in front of a crowd had always made you uneasy, so the thought of so many eyes on you tonight was daunting.

"Just take a few shots before we go in, and you'll feel better," Winter suggested with a knowing smile. You had already planned to do just that as being the only sober person at your own wedding was not an option.

"Alright, are we ready to go?" With everyone seemingly prepared, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself before heading out. If the fake wedding was making you feel this way, you couldn't even fathom the emotions that would accompany your real wedding day.

Jay offered to drive you all to the house where the social would be held. It was no surprise that Ningning had convinced him to do so. Squeezing into the sedan as best as you could, Ningning handed something to you from the front seat. The unopened bottle of tequila felt weighty in your hands as you opened it and took a much-needed swig. You passed it on to Karina, whose lap you were currently on, and she did the same before the bottle made its way around the car.

Arriving at the house, it seemed that you were among the last to arrive. The place was already bustling with your sorority sisters and the EpNu brothers. Taking one final gulp from the bottle, you handed it off to Giselle before stepping out of the car.

"She's here! The bride has arrived!" A pledge (Sunoo maybe?) shouted excitedly, igniting cheers from the crowd. As you and the girls you chose to be your ‘bridesmaids’ were escorted to the kitchen to wait, you were met with the rest of the wedding party which consisted of Yeonjun, Jay, and Beomgyu as they eagerly passed everyone shots before pairing up to walk. Your brother was also present as he greeted you with a big hug and you could tell he was already drunk. The doors then opened signaling everyone to start walking down, then the familiar sound of the Bride's March then blared through the speakers, cueing Jungwon to offer his arm.

As you made your way down the aisle, the air was filled with screams and shouts of excitement. The backyard had undergone a shocking transformation, adorned with white chairs and a beautifully decorated altar surrounded by flowers. Sunghoon stood at the end of the aisle, looking dashing in a perfectly fitted tuxedo, and next to him stood Jake, dressed as a priest. Whoever had assigned him the role of officiating the ceremony deserved an applause as you were laughing at how silly he looked. As you approached the end of the aisle, you were met with Sunghoon’s smile radiating warmth, instantly putting you at ease.

"Alright, alright everyone, settle down!" Jake's voice boomed through the microphone, commanding the attention of the crowd. "Today, we have gathered here to witness the union of our dearly beloved brother and sister," Jake continued, interweaving jokes and witty remarks that ignited waves of laughter among the guests. However, your focus was solely on the man standing before you. Whether it was the lingering effects of the tequila or something more profound, a burning sensation swelled within you. The way Sunghoon looked at you, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion you had never experienced before, leaving you breathless. Despite the fact that the two weren’t even dating, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it felt like to be in love.

Lost in your thoughts, you were abruptly brought back to the present as Jake passed you the microphone, signaling that it was time for you and Sunghoon to exchange vows. From behind, Winter handed you the piece of paper you were previously meticulously writing on. Taking a deep breath, you grasped the microphone.

"Hi Sunghoon," you began with a bashful smile, setting off laughter among both Sunghoon and the crowd. "To be honest, when we first became friends during our freshman year, you weren't the one who immediately caught my eye. In fact, I think I had a thing for Heeseung, which I'm sure everyone already knew of," you playfully winked at Heeseung, who joined in on the laughter, seated at the front row with the rest of the audience. "I’m sorry to say, but the only remarkable thing you did that gave me a lasting impression last year was when you stuck your finger down Jake’s throat and he threw up all over your arm. Like that’s a sight I’m never going to forget, but that all changed in an instant, sorry Heeseung, when you accidentally made me drop my beloved Pink Whitney bottle at the EpNu back-to-school party a couple of months ago. Now, for those who know me, know just how much I adore Pink Whitney, so I should have been furious with you. However, you won me over in that very moment when you not only swiftly snagged a replacement from a pledge to appease me, thanks Niki, but also had the audacity to put on 'Boss Baby.' Yes, you heard it right."

A collective chuckle ripples through the crowd as memories of that night resurfaced. Sunghoon joined in on the laughter, his eyes fixed on you with affectionate amusement. "But, of course, the enchantment of that moment quickly faded the morning after when I discovered that you had let 'Boss Baby' be the soundtrack to our fucking. Let me tell you, Sunghoon, I truly believe you've forever tarnished 'Boss Baby' for me. So, thanks for that," you teased, earning another round of laughter. "And to make matters worse, you almost got me pregnant! I think it's safe to say that you left quite an impression on me, enough to make up for the lack of one that you gave me during our freshman year." 

Pausing for a moment, you let the lightheartedness settle before continuing, "Now, while your dad jokes can sometimes be horrible, and your obsession with 'Love Island' occasionally turns me off, I can honestly say that I wouldn't be happier than being fake married to you. So, here's to hoping that our one-day marriage surpasses all expectations!" The room immediately erupts with cheers, hoots, and applause, celebrating the witty and heartfelt vows you've just delivered.

Sunghoon was genuinely impressed, even honored, by your heartfelt and humorous vows. Now, the pressure was on him as he took the mic from your hands and retrieved his own set of vows. "Well, well, well, Y/N," he began, adopting a playful tone that draws laughter from the crowd as he mimics the tone of your introduction. "During our freshman year on bid day, I was cruising down Greek Row with the boys when my eyes landed on a girl at the AES house, passionately air-guitaring with a broom in hand alone. I thought to myself, 'Wow that’s interesting,' before continuing on with my day. Little did I know that fate had a different plan in store for me, because the following week, I was introduced to you at a party. And let me tell you, it was a surprise that surpassed all expectations because my initial impression of you was spot on. You're a bit of a weird girl, but hey, that's not necessarily a bad thing."

Sunghoon let out a little laugh before he continued, "Honestly, you kind of scared me just a tad from then on, and it didn't help that I witnessed you taking down Jay," he glanced behind him, catching Jay pointing a finger at you as he shook his head at the resurfacing memory. "So, when I accidentally knocked you over at that party, let me tell you, I was scared shitless so that's why I was so quick to steal from Niki. Thank you, by the way," he added with a grin."I was also shitting my pants when you informed me that you weren't on birth control, and let's not forget the time your lovely asshat of a brother forced me into meeting your parents. I'm still grateful that your dad remains oblivious to the Plan B incident, but I must admit, I'm glad my first gift to you turned out to be a rather expensive one.

Pausing for a moment to let the laughter subside, Sunghoon continued with a touch of sincerity, "I have to give a shout-out to Jungwon for bringing us closer together though. And while you still maintain your status as the wonderfully weird girl I first saw on bid day, especially with your unconventional milk-before-cereal habit, I'm relieved to admit that I'm no longer as scared of you as I once was. That fear has now been transferred to your father, but maybe I'll work on overcoming that too." 

Sunghoon's playful and heartfelt vows reached their crescendo, leaving you unable to wipe the radiant smile off your face. "I genuinely hope that our marriage exceeds all your expectations, fulfilling every hope and dream you've ever had. Oh, and I made sure to come prepared this time," he concluded with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he reached into his pocket before whipping out a condom, drawing cheers from the crowd. 

As the playful energy infused every word of your vows, a deeper, sincere emotion lingered beneath the surface. Both you and Sunghoon couldn't help but feel the genuine affection woven into the words you exchanged. 

"I can't hold back the tears, you guys. That was incredibly touching," Jake exclaimed, taking charge of the ceremony again. "Well, it seems there's only one final thing to do before you two lovebirds become officially married," he said mischievously, reaching down and producing a bottle that was way too familiar to you.

"Take a shot, seal it with a kiss, and then make your grand escape, my dear sweetlings," Jake declared, passing the Pink Whitney to you. Without a moment's hesitation, you brought it to your lips, savoring a sip of its contents, before passing it to Sunghoon, who followed suit with a generous gulp. The room fills with cheers as the anticipation around the kiss builds.

Locked in each other's gazes, you and Sunghoon shared an unspoken understanding. His hand tenderly reaches to cup your face, and with a gentle touch, your lips meet. The kiss was pure magic, his softness melding seamlessly with yours in a dance of perfect harmony. The air becomes electric, charged with the palpable energy of love and celebration. The sounds of friends whistling in delight further amplified the moment as Sunghoon concluded the kiss by dipping you ever so gracefully. With a burst of shared exhilaration, you take each other's hands and make a swift, joyous dash down the aisle. 

As the clock struck midnight, the EpNu house transformed into a haven of intoxication and euphoria, with every single person succumbing to the infectious celebratory vibes permeating the air. Sunghoon's arms remained firmly wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to his side with an unwavering grip, unwilling to let you wander off into the chaotic crowd. Your bodies melded together intimately as you swayed to the rhythm of the music, caught up in the enchantment of the moment. Glancing around, you witnessed your friends engaging in similar fervor, each lost in their own uninhibited dance of revelry.

A soft whisper then caressed your ears. "Wanna get out of here?" Sunghoon's words instantly intrigued you as you understood the implications behind his words. You nodded subtly before playfully tugging him towards the front door.

Confusion flickered across his face as he questioned your actions, "Shouldn't we just go upstairs to my room?" 

You clearly had something else in mind though. "The house is empty," you revealed. "How do you feel about fucking in my room?" The knowledge that boys were forbidden upstairs in your sorority house made this offer even more enticing. After all, this was your wedding night. Who would catch the two of you when everyone was here?

Sunghoon considered the implications, obviously intrigued. "But what about Winter?" he asked, his desire quickly taken as he remembered that you didn’t live alone.

In response, you retrieved your phone, unveiling a message you had received earlier from Winter. "Look," you told him, displaying the words before him. "Leaving for the SKZ house tonight! Room's free—have the best wedding night, Mrs. Park!" A radiant smile spread across his face, and laughter bubbled forth as you both ran out of the house.

As expected, your sorority house was dead silent indicating that there was no one home. You still made sure to be quiet though as you could never be too careful and quickly dragged an eager Sunghoon up the stairs.

He took a moment to admire the elegance of your room, finding it far more luxurious than his own. But his focus quickly returned to the purpose of his visit. This time, you took charge, pulling him in and initiating a passionate kiss. His lips pressed against yours with a hunger that contrasted the gentle tenderness of your previous encounter at the altar. As your lips part, you invite his tongue inside, while your hands move down his body to skillfully undress him.

His jacket slips off effortlessly, and you eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt, planting kisses along his neck. The intoxicating scent of his skin drove you to emit a soft moan.

"God, you sound so pretty," he whispered, causing a blush to creep up on your cheeks. Emboldened by his words, you decided to push the boundaries further. Stepping back slightly, you reached for the zipper of your dress, conveniently located at the side. Without hesitation, you unzipped it and let the dress gracefully slide down, revealing your bare breasts standing proudly. The sight instantly got him hard. This was beyond even his wildest fantasies, and he was silently kicking himself for not remembering the night you two first had sex.

As you stepped out of your dress, you were left in just a white, lacy thong. You didn’t hesitate to drop to your knees and Sunghoon wondered what he had done in the past life to be able to deserve this as you looked like an angel on your knees.

Your fingers worked nimbly to undo the button on his pants and you slightly teased him as you dragged the zipper down slowly instigating a groan out of him. You could tell he was already hard as his bulge was visible through his boxers and you spared him a look before reaching to fully undress him. 

As his cock released, your jaw dropped. No wonder you were so sore after the first time as he was obviously the biggest you’ve ever been with. The tip was furiously red and you could see his pre-cum glistening. He was absolutely beautiful and your mouth watered. 

Quickly you spit on your hands before wrapping them around his length and groans instantly filled the room. 

“You’re so big babe, the biggest I’ve ever been with,” you marveled further at him while slowly starting to move your hands.

“You feel so good, can you use your mouth,” you eagerly obliged at his request leaning forward to wrap your mouth around him. You start sucking at just the tip while still moving your hands slowly around the rest of his length. As you started to slowly descend your mouth you could feel his fingers softly weaving into your hair.

“Just like that. Fuck, you’re so warm,” his groans were heavenly and you could feel yourself getting wet just at the noises he was making. 

You decided to take him further as you tried your best to g as far down as you could before you felt him hit the back of your throat. Determined to fit him all, you pushed yourself to go further and you could feel the tears pricking at your eyes as you gagged. This didn’t deter you though as you start to bob around his length at a slow pace, getting yourself adjusted before attempting to go faster. At this, his hand became tighter around the back of your head guiding you up and down his cock. Spit slowly drips down your mouth and to your neck as you furiously worked on making Sunghoon feel good. By now, he was basically fucking your face as you heard his pants get louder. 

“I’m almost there, just a little more.” At this, you felt even more motivated to see him reach his climax and you continued to maintain your pace. Then all of a sudden you felt him twitch inside your mouth. Quickly you released him from your mouth as your hands took over. 

“I want you to cum on my face,” and at your request, he does just that as you felt the ropes of his cum painting your tear-streaked face. It was a sight that made Sunghoon wonder if he was in heaven. You were absolutely breathtaking as his cum slowly dripped down your face and you caught some of it with your fingers before putting it in your mouth. God, at that sight, he almost came again. 

“You’re such a little minx aren’t you,” he quickly pulled you up and threw you onto the bed inciting a giggle from you. Now it was his turn to return the favor. 

Your panties were quickly ripped off and he didn’t hesitate to go straight for your core. You were absolutely drenched and he couldn’t help but feel proud that you were in this state because of him. He quickly inserted a finger and had you instantly moaning. 

“You’re so wet pretty girl, all this for me?” You nodded while biting your lips. His finger was thick and long and felt so amazing as he slowly started to move them in and out. 

“You get wet like this all the time or is it just for me?” He grinned at your reaction to him fingering you and decides to slowly insert another one.

“Fuck, Sunghoon just you. Just you,” You answered him eagerly pawing at his wrists to feel him deeper. 

Then without warning, he lowered his tongue to your clit and you almost screamed from the pleasure. He was already hard again just from seeing you writhe under him. He continued to use both his tongue and fingers and your hands desperately latched onto his hair, pulling him closer to your core. The tightness coiling within your lower stomach intensified before you felt yourself overcome with blinding pleasure. He continued his assaults on your pussy as you rode out your orgasm. No one has ever eaten you out like Sunghoon had just done and you were lost for words panting as he looked up at you, mouth sheen, covered in your release. 

He then climbed up over you and leaned down for a kiss and you could feel his dick hot against your thighs. As you dove deeper into the kiss you could feel him adjusting himself to enter you. His tip rested at your entrance making you beg to feel more of him. Your core was throbbing for him.

“Please Sunghoon,” and that was all he needed to hear before he fully sheathed himself inside of you. There was an obvious discomfort from the unfamiliar stretch, but it quickly it faded as it turned into pleasure. 

“Shit babe, you’re so fucking tight. You’re like sucking me in.” Sunghoon felt almost unworthy of your pussy as it molded perfectly around his length as if you were made for him. He slowly started to move and your hands moved to grasp onto his back pulling him closer. The pace the started to pick up as he moved in and out of you with more force and moans and pants were all that filled your room. Then all of a sudden you felt him grab you by your waist and turn you around. Without warning, he entered you from behind and the position allowed you to feel him deeper hitting the spot. 

“It feels so good Hoon, fuck you’re so deep in me,” you moan out as he pushes your head deep into the mattress. Your hands clawed around you, desperate to hold onto anything. His hands then find your shoulders as he uses them to get leverage to thrust into you harder and within seconds you could feel the warmness reappearing in your lower belly.

“I’m almost there please don’t stop, keep going!” You screamed out holding your sheets tightly as you could also hear him grunting over you. And then it came as all you could see was a blinding white light and your eyes roll to the back of your head. It was so good that you couldn’t even seem to form any sounds and you felt him continuing to thrust in you until you felt warm spurts of his cum painting your insides. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he says while he collapses on top of you, not pulling out. Sounds of heavy breathing are all that you could hear for a while as the two of you attempted to catch your breaths.

As he finally moves off of you and pulls out, you could feel his cum slowly dripping out of you. He reached for the box of tissues beside your bed and gently cleans you up before tugging you in his arms.

"I honestly think that was the best sex I’ve ever had," you confessed, a mixture of satisfaction and amusement in your voice. He bursted into laughter, clearly pleased with your response.

"Well, I'm glad I could meet your expectations, Mrs. Park," he replied, his remark reminding you of the fake marriage you both had just gone through. You couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation.

"So, are you available tomorrow?" you asked, curiosity tinged in your voice. He erupted into laughter, playing up the moment dramatically.

"Wait, is Y/N asking me out on a date right now?" he exclaimed, pretending to be taken aback. Rolling your eyes, you knew he was teasing, but he quickly shifted to a more genuine tone. "Yes, I am free. Down to grab breakfast and finish Love Island together?" And you eagerly nodded.

The two of you continued conversing throughout the night while deciding to go for another round  before you finally decide to sleep. 

Like a déjà vu, you wake up in a familiar state as you did a couple of months ago, bathed in sunlight as you heard the soft snores emanating from the boy beside you. Smiling, you admired him for a moment, reaching out to touch his hair, before abruptly stopping as a realization hit you. 

Fuck, you once again forgot to use a condom.

Bonus:

You found yourself seated quietly in one of the meeting rooms of your sorority house, a sense of unease washing over you. Your gaze was fixated on the two individuals standing before you. Lia, the standards chair, had called you earlier, and whenever that happened, it usually meant trouble. To make matters worse, Yeji was also present, indicating that your offense must have been quite severe to warrant both of their attention.

"I'll get straight to the point. Unfortunately, I have to inform you that you will be fined," Lia spoke briskly, leaving no room for anticipation. Your mind raced, trying to recall all the things you might have done in the past week that could have led to this reprimand.

"Um, okay, but I'm not exactly sure what I'm being fined for," you revealed hesitantly.

Yeji cleared her throat and offered you a small, sympathetic smile before speaking, "Well, the house mom was reviewing the security footage and noticed you bringing Sunghoon into the house. And, well, we also saw you sneaking him out in the morning, so we know he was in your room."

Oh fuck, you had completely forgotten about cameras being all over the house. You really thought you had successfully managed to have Sunghoon over without anyone knowing. The realization that you were caught red-handed, captured in literally in 4k, flooded you with embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry. I completely forgot about the cameras," you sheepishly confessed, unable to meet their eyes.

"I understand that it was your 'wedding night' and you two are in love," Lia said, empathetically. "But please remember not to do this again. I don't want you getting into trouble repeatedly." She then proceeded to inform you of the amount of the fine.

As you walked out, still filled with embarrassment over being caught sneaking your boyfriend (yes, boyfriend!) out of the house, your friends wasted no time in questioning you about the situation the moment you reached your room.

"What did you do to get in trouble?" they eagerly asked.

"I forgot about the cameras and snuck Sunghoon in," you confessed, causing everyone to burst into laughter

"Don't worry about it. I got in trouble last year for trying to let Yeonjun in, but I found a way to avoid getting caught," Karina shared, piquing your interest.

“Wait how?” Giselle asks deeply interested too.

"The backdoor cameras haven't been functioning since the summer. Take that information as you will," Karina revealed mischievously, and with that, you didn’t hesitate to send your boyfriend a text with a smile on your face.

“Wanna come over tonight?”

taglist: @cha0thicpisces @abdiitcryy​  @moonlighthoon @franknsteinn​ @sjakewrld 

[sweetsreverie]

I absolutely love the Ghost x Pink!Reader fic you wrote! Could you write a sequel? Maybe a breakfast next morning + cute and fluffy waking up with Simon. Those two were apart from each other for a while I assume so being a bit clingy is understandable.

summary: pt. 2 of this opposites attract fic. you and simon spend the morning together before he leaves once more.

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x female reader

wc: 1,147

Simon and the rest of 141 slept soundly that night. Simon was glad to be at home with you, in his own bed, and the others were glad to not be sleeping on the ground and in a proper house. You’d also given Soap a sherpa-lined blanket to sleep under, and he definitely enjoyed that.

As happy as you were to have Simon home for the night, you knew it was going to be just that: for the night. He would probably be leaving as soon as the sun came up, and it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary for you to wake up to his side of the bed empty and cold.

But when you woke up the next morning and opened your eyes, he was still beside you. He wasn’t asleep, but rather just resting beside you as you did.

“You guys haven’t left yet?” You ask him softly, and you stretch your arms out towards him, which he welcomes. You lean over and put your head on his chest, with your arm around his waist. Simon isn’t always one for cuddling, but he always lets you rest against him.

“We should probably be gone by now. But I don’t hear Price making a fuss so we must be fine.” Simon says softly in his gravelly morning voice that you’d come to love so much. His hair is tousled and his eyes are droopy, and it just makes you want to tuck him in once more.

“Let him make a fuss in my house. He’ll see.” You mumble against him, and you feel the small chuckle that leaves Simon.

“Yeah. you’ll give him hell, won’t you.”

“That’s right.”

Simon gives the top of your head a little tap of his fingertips, and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and brushes some hair away from your face once you turn and look up at him. 

His touch is featherlight as always.

“We should get up though. Don’t want those bums to think they can stay here forever.” Simon murmurs, and when he moves to try and sit up, your grip around his middle tightens.

“Five more minutes?” You ask him hopefully, and he settles back down in his spot on the bed.

You and Simon spend a few more minutes in the bed before you get up, and you make your way to the kitchen after freshening up in the bathroom, and Simon stays behind to brush his teeth.

The three other men are awake by the time you enter the room, and Price was already working on folding the blankets and cleaning up the pillows and things.

“Are you guys hungry? I can make some tea or coffee- I think we have some biscuits too?” You offer them, and honestly you don’t have a ton in the kitchen, considering you weren’t expecting to be feeding guests any time soon.

“That would be wonderful, thank you very much Y/N. We’ll be out of your hair shortly. Thank you for letting us stay the night here.” Price says while he takes a seat on the couch, and Soap sits down at the kitchen table while you start warming up a kettle of water.

“You know, I think Ghost is real lucky to have a woman like you in his life.” Soap says, and not even a second later, Simon steps in, clad in his gear and some clean clothes.

“And why is that?” He asks, and while you could barely contain the giggle that left you, Soap was quick to shut up. Simon’s hand brushes against your waist while he passes by you in the kitchen, and that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. 

The five of you sip on tea and munch on biscuits, and you know that shortly after, Simon is going to pack up his things and head out again.

Simon hates having to leave you. He hates not being able to tell you where he is, or when he’ll be home. That is.. if he comes home.

So while Price, Soap, and Gaz start to pack their things into the truck they came here in, Simon takes you back to the bedroom and sits on the bed with you. He sits with you on his lap, and one of your arms is around his neck while you lean against him.

“You know I’ll be back soon, love. I always come back to you, don’t I?” Simon asks you, and he reaches up to tuck some hair behind your ear. You nod, though you still always fear the worst while he’s away.

“You do. But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you while you’re gone.” You tell him softly, and he puts his hand on your knee and gives it an assuring squeeze.

“I don’t want you to worry yourself sick over me, Y/N. You know that.” Simon says while he rests his chin on top of your head. Simon doesn’t want to imagine you worrying about him while he’s away. He wants you to just take care of yourself, and he’ll return in due time. 

“Meeting your team makes me feel better, you know.” You tell him, and Simon lets out a quiet chuckle while he shifts on the bed, and gives you a gentle nudge so you stand up, and he stands up also.

“C’mon. I gotta get going” Simon says while he leads you out of the bedroom, and he slips his mask over his head during the short walk outside. You take his hand as you walk, and as the two of you exit the house, Soap grins at the sight of Ghost holding hands with someone.

“Alright, you guys be safe, okay? And you take care of my Simon.” You tell them, and Gaz lets out a quiet chuckle while Price gets in the truck.

“We all look out for each other, so don’t you worry. He’s in good hands. Mostly.” Gaz says while he looks over at Soap, who narrows his eyes at the man briefly.

“Alright, you two say your goodbyes then.” Soap says, and he glances at Gaz before the two of them climb in the truck.

Simon turns to you then, and he brushes a gloved finger over your cheek carefully. 

“I love you. I’ll see you soon, yeah?” He says in a hushed voice, as if the guys in the truck could hear him.

“I love you too. Take care of yourself and them. Come back home to me, Simon.” You return, and you stand up on your toes slightly to kiss his cheek over the mask before he gives you a wave, and he climbs in the car with the rest of 141.

You watch as they pull away from the house, and you and Simon share a glance before the truck disappears over the hill.

tag list: @ho3forghost @juggernaunt @shellfishb34ch @redpool

[netherfeildren]

Pink : Part I : Humanist Seeking Person in Love

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Humanism: an outlook or system of thought attaching prime importance to human rather than divine or supernatural matters. Humanist beliefs stress the potential value and goodness of human beings, emphasize common human needs, and seek solely rational ways of solving human problems.

The story of a son who won’t love you, and his father, who will.

-OR-

the father-in-law AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; Fix-it-fic but the thing that needs fixing is a person; Daddy issues; Daddy kink; Divorce; Welcome to the father-in-law suck and fuck extravaganza; Possessive behavior; Jealousy; Slow burn but like not really; DD/lg dynamics; Older man/Younger woman; Self esteem issues; Discussions of emotional and mental abuse; Unhealthy coping mechanisms

A/N: Check the tags on the masterlist, as well!

Word Count: 7.4K

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

1. Humanist Seeking Person in Love

The video you’d watched had said that the differences between a jamb nut and a coupling nut should have been obvious. A jamb nut, which was what you were currently looking for, was typically half as tall as a standard nut, or a coupling nut, and would be of a small, stouter shape compared to the other options. As you stare at the wall of overwhelming stock, the incomprehensible mess of steel, PVC, aluminum and plastic hardware you feel, a little bit, like you’d like to start screaming as loud as you possibly can, for as long as you possibly can. Just a rip roaring and rageful, top of your lungs, screech. Maybe it’d scare the leering men around you. Maybe they’d desist from the ogling of your ass in the tight confines of your ratty leggings, or the mildly pitying glances as your frustration and confusion becomes more and more obvious.

You try and take a deep breath, glancing down at your phone again and the screenshots you’d taken of the parts you need to fix your leaky kitchen sink. Zooming in, you hold the picture up next to the pipeware currently gripped in your sweaty hand and wonder again if what you’ve chosen is the right piece. You don’t understand why the hardware store, a local business, isn’t as neatly and efficiently organized as the larger chains, and why they make it so damn hard for someone without experience to come in and shop. You don’t want to buy the wrong thing and waste the money you already don’t have, you don’t want to have to make the trek back to this God awful fucking place. You hate the hardware store, you hate the way it smells, dusty and wooden, the cavernous hollow echo of it, the leering gazes of the men shopping, looking at you as if you’re some helpless child, something soft and easy to snap up and eat. You hate the memory of following your father around on many a Sunday morning after he’d forced you to come with him in some false attempt at bonding, at spending time together when really all it was, was another instance of you cowering behind him, trying to make yourself as silent and small as possible so as to avoid his anger and irritation. 

You look back down at the piece of PVC in your clutch, at the picture of what you’re supposed to be buying again, back at the other option, a copper bolt you think might look right but can’t really tell the difference, and you feel the backs of your eyes pinch and go hot and achy. A sharp, throbbing pain starting up behind your left eye and spiraling out like a stain to cover your forehead. You want to go home. You want your kitchen sink to stop leaking. You want the past year to never have happened. For your marriage to not have so irrevocably unraveled that the husband you’d so desperately fought to keep had left you out in the cold, divorced, very nearly penniless in a new apartment that you couldn’t make feel like home no matter how many fall scented candles and throw pillows you stuffed into every nook and cranny. You want to not have to make decisions like these and take care of things like this. You want very, very badly for someone else to come and take care of you, help you, make the choices that seem very hard in the moment but that, in the grand scheme of things, aren’t really so difficult, but that still sometimes call for a second opinion, wiser, more experienced hands. 

And in that next blink, in a soft, deep voice that should not be as easily recognizable in your mind as it is given the handful of times you’ve actually heard it, your name, being murmured from behind you. The lilt of a question, the gruff of shock coating the syllables as it pushes against your bare nape. Soft as a sledgehammer, like ice water down your naked back, your shoulders hitch up to your ears, going tense and frightened, a hot flush of shame spilling through you, the keenest desire to run away from that soft voice as fast as your stupidly October flip flopped feet’ll take you. You hiccup the half sound of his name, not turning around, lashes fluttering quickly to prevent the dry heat of your eyes from spilling over, nerveless fingers going listless around the plastic nut. You don’t want to turn around. This is a cursed place, this hardware store, and you should never have come, and you really do hate it here. Deep breath, deep breath. Be polite, be succinct. You don’t need to talk to him. You don’t need to think about the past. Fuck the sink, fuck the pipes. You’ll just move apartments. You let a long stream of air out of your mouth, and then turn on the ball of your foot to face him. 

“Mr. Miller,” you breathe with a limp smile you know isn’t going to fool anyone. 

He frowns, the line of his mouth wavering as he tries to contain his displeasure. “We really back to that?” You shake your head, looking away from him as the last shopper in the aisle you’re inhabiting walks away, leaving the two of you alone. The store suddenly seems to exist in a vacuum echo, all other patrons seeming to disappear, all sound going out. You even feel the imitation of a hollow pop in your ear drums. When you look back at him, he’s really scowling now. His strong brow pulled down over those too pretty, thickly lashed hazel eyes that you know so well on another man, a younger version of him. 

It was the first thing you’d noticed about him, the first time Sam had introduced you to his father, they have the same eyes. The same but different. There was a coldness to Sam’s gaze that you hadn’t recognized until it was too late for you, but you recognized it now, with a painful sort of awareness, recognized the lack thereof in his father’s eyes, how different they were even in their similarity. 

He raises his brows at you, a pressing gesture, “Joel.” His name feels like salt on an open sore in your mouth. “What are you doing here?” And he looks at you, just a little bit, like you’re an idiot, or maybe that’s only you, for his voice is gentle when he says, “Pickin’ up supplies with some of the boys on my crew. What’re you doin’ here, sweetheart? Sam with you?” Your heart beats like that of a small and hunted creature, pounding painfully against the confines of your ribs while a hot, humiliated flush washes through your entire body, heat suffusing your face so intensely there’s probably steam rising off the surface of your skin. You shake your head quickly, a barely there jerk. You’re suddenly trembling so hard your throat aches as if it’s been pierced by a lancet straight through. Another sharp jerk, and he steps forward a concerned look marring his face. 

“You haven’t spoken to him.” It isn’t a question. 

“He’s been feildin’ my calls for months. Assumed I’d done something– something else, last time to piss him off again. What’s wrong? Everything okay?” He pauses, head tilting, and you can’t look him in the face as you say it, gaze falling to your fingers twisted around the nut. 

“We’re not together anymore. He– he left me. We got divorced six months ago.”

Shocked into silence he takes another step towards you, the toe of his heavy boot coming into your eye line. The ends are thick and rounded, and you wonder if there’s a casing of steel within, how much a kick in the ribs would hurt delivered by a boot like that, and the violent thought startles you, your eyes going wide, shooting up to his face as if worried he could read your thoughts. Ashamed that something like that in reference to him would even cross your mind, for looking at him, the gentleness in his gaze, the utter concern, a man like this would never hurt a creature softer than him, you know that. 

It’s funny, or strange, or a phenomena not easily understandable or explainable unless you’d had a certain type of experience with a certain type of man, but there was a sort of sixth sense instilled in a person who’d dealt with cruel men that made it easy to recognize when one had the capacity to hurt you and when he didn’t. There were, of course, those who were good at masking it, but there was always something, a way they held themselves or moved around others, the cadence of their voices, clues that spoke of the sort of man he was. And from the first moment you’d met him, you’d thought Joel had something that spoke only of gentleness. Despite his size and seemingly rough aspect, there was something about his voice, and the way he carried himself, the way he moved around those who were smaller or weaker or less, less alive, less potent than him, that was always careful and always aware. 

“What?” He moves as if he’s going to reach for you, and you flinch back, the curve of your spine bumping into the framing of the shelves behind you, face turning away quickly. He goes tense, forcing himself into stillness, the white of his teeth flashing in a grimace, but he puts his palms up in a staying gesture, it’s alright, easy, he murmurs, I won’t touch you, hands lowering to fist in the pockets of his jeans into tight balls of false restraint. As if he’s afraid of what they might do of their own volition otherwise. “What do you mean he left you? What happened? He–”

“I don’t want to discuss this with you. Call him again or– or I don’t know. It’s not my business anymore. He was never happy with me,” you stupidly add, finally braving a look back at his eyes again, a bitter laugh scratching up your throat, “You know this. Call your son, Joel.”

You move to leave, to get away from him, but he shifts, blocking your escape, sending your heart up into your throat. “Honey, wait–” but you’re spinning on your heel the other way, stumbling in your flip flops, and you think he says something about the wrong way, but you’re rushing, blindly trying to get away from him down the aisle as fast as you can. You’re going to cry, you can feel it, any second now. You weren’t expecting to see him, the reminder of everything that had happened, your marriage and its failure and the part Joel had played in it. A painful and jarring shock to your nervous system that you’d not been prepared to receive. You blindly scramble through the aisles of the hardware store, losing yourself to the gloom of the dimly lit back rows where plywood and carpeting are stocked, that detested dusty hollow smell intensifying. You take another blind turn, another, until the sounds of the store have gone faint and then a frightening pressurized silence. Bracing your palms against one of the eye level shelves you let your head fall between your shoulders, your bag sliding down your arm to hang and sway at the bend of your elbow. You watch the slow back and forth pendulous movement, eyes wide and blurred. If you don’t blink, you won’t cry, and you’re so fucking tired of crying over this. 

“If you were tryn’a get away from me, exit was in the opposite direction,” comes his voice again. Your eyes flutter shut, a single tear drips from the line of your lashes onto the dusty concrete floor. 

“Please, go away,” you croak.

“Tell me what happened.”

“What do you think happened? Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“He– he’s a fuckin’ idiot, sweetheart–”

Your stomach lurches, “Don’t call me that.”

But he doesn’t listen, continues on unheeded. “There’s gotta be something we can do. I’ll– I’ll talk to him. I’ll make him see that–” You let your head fall back the opposite way now, looking up at the high, cavernous ceiling of the store, another bitter laugh. It’s the only kind left to you now. 

“I don’t want him back, Joel. Be serious.”

“He needs you–” And oh, that makes you angry. 

“Fuck you.” You spin around to spit the words at him, rushing forward to shove at his rock solid chest. He doesn’t budge even half an inch. You shove again, again, a humiliating sob making its way up your chest. You blink then, you can’t help it, the tears fall unrestrained. It’s a specific type of humiliating, facing the estranged father of the man who you’d been married to, who’d been unable to love you, who’d abandoned you. 

Sam and Joel had been unaware of each other’s existence for almost twenty eight years, but two years ago, Sam’s mother had finally told him about his father, his name, where he lived, how they’d gotten together when they were too young, and how she’d split, scared and vulnerable, without telling him a thing. The two of you’d gone looking for the man, and you’d both been varying degrees of shocked at what you’d found. Sam, faced with a man so unlike himself he’d immediately resented him more than he already had for the fact of his absence his entire life. You, as well, faced with a man so unlike your husband that it had made you resent your marriage even more. Immediately welcoming, loving, patient, gracious and generous and forgiving of the fact that a son had been kept from him for almost three decades. Despite the severity of his character, his serious reservedness, he’d done everything in his power to open himself to this long lost son. Not once had the news been met with cruel anger or outrage. Joel had accepted his son immediately and without question, listening to his mother’s reasoning, accepting the fact that a mistake had been made, forgiving, willing to move on and embrace Sam in all the ways he’d been denied for so long. Sam hadn’t been able to fathom it. He’d been mistrustful, hostile, angry, all the things he always was but compounded and heightened to a terrible degree he eventually started taking out on you. 

And it was funny because the fraught, or lack thereof, relationships with your fathers had been the thing that had initially bonded the two of you. Too young and alone and without direction, you’d met him in your last year of college. The relationship had immediately developed without boundaries or reason, you’d been obsessed, a little desperate, unquestioning, and then married a few short months later. Two too young, too lost people, burdened with daddy issues. A terribly sad cliche. You’d never had a chance. You never should have been. And there’s a part of you now, looking up at this man, your ex-husband’s father, that wants to feel angry at him, that wants to spit in his face and say this is all your fault, everything that happened to me, everything that was done to me was in your name, and I blame you for all of it, but you know it’s without reason or countenance. And worst of all, anger, blame, resentment, it’s not anything near to the things you feel when you look at him. The memory of a small, dark restroom flashes in your mind’s eye, his eyes gleaming above your face, the thick slope of his shoulder, the patterned wallpaper behind him, sickening comfort. 

You go still and frozen, fingers twisting in the front of his shirt, jerking with a painful shiver from the top of your head, down the length of your vertebrae, to the tips of your toes that cramp and spasm. Looking up at his face, you can feel a pulse throbbing in the muscle beneath your right eye, and the way he looks down at you, as if he’s never felt as sorry for any other creature in his entire life as he does for you in this moment, so embarrassing. You let your head fall forward again, landing with a soft thump against his chest, an uncontrollable tremble moving like fire through your frame. “Fuck you,” you say again, whispered, soft and weak and without any sort of force behind it. “How dare you say that to me,” another tear. “He’s always needed you. It was never me he wanted, never me he needed. It was always you.” You watch as one hand withdraws from its pocket cage, lifting to push a soft tendril of hair back behind your ear. And there’s fire left in the wake of the brush of his skin at the hollow there. Another shiver of a worse kind, one of desire, one of lust, moves through you. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it – I’m sorry, honey.” Stupid southern charm and their stupid pet names. You clutch at his shirtfront more tightly, press your forehead harder into his sternum, and he brings his hand to your shoulder, tucking you into himself more securely. He’s huge and warm and smells faintly of salt and sweat and laundry detergent. Something clean and fresh and masculine. He smells alive. His other hand comes up to the back of your head, moving through your hair. Fucking, Sam, he murmurs above you, and you’re sure he’s shaking his head in that disappointed fatherly way. “Tell me what you were looking for. What had you lookin’ so confused and irritated in the plumbing aisle?” You’d laugh if you could, a non bitter sort, but you don’t have the ability anymore, and that makes you so angry. Angry and irrational.

“My sink’s leaking, and I can’t afford a plumber because your son divorced me and left me with no money and no house and nothing for myself, and I hate this stupid place. I hate the way it smells, and I hate that nothing’s labeled clearly, and I hate the way you men,” you shove at his chest a little bit again, “look at me like I’m some dumb little girl who doesn’t know left from right.” Even if that’s what you kind of feel like, a dumb little girl who doesn’t know left from right anymore. Slightly out of breath, you go limp and exhausted against him. His palm flattens at the center of your spine, supporting you, and it’s so fucking inappropriate. You should move away. You don’t know him well enough for this, he’s your ex-father-in-law, you shouldn't let him touch you, but should and should not and right and wrong and inappropriate or not has never really mattered to you where Joel Miller is concerned. “This is the worst place in the whole world,” you mumble, voice muffled from where your face is squished against the annoyingly hard and delicious muscles of his chest. You feel, keenly, like you’re being a little bit ridiculous, a little bit embarrassing, but his big hand is slowly moving up and down the length of your spine, soothing and comforting, and you can’t bring yourself to care. He’d been kind from the first second you’d met him, and then, at the worst moment, he’d been understanding, and you’d never really stood a chance against him either. 

You’d never had a chance with the son, you’d never stood a chance against the father, there had never really been much choice or possibility for you as a whole where either of them were concerned.

I was such a little person. Tiny in my insignificance, naivety, hope. Desperate to be as good as I could be, and pathetic in my failure to make myself into what I thought the world wanted of me. 

“You can’t afford–” He breathes out roughly through his nose, stopping himself from continuing. “Do y’know what it is you’re looking for? What part?” And you nod your head, still buried against him, unable or unwilling to pull away. “Let me help you,” and he says it so, so gently that it makes you want to stomp your foot and cry and throw a fit at the unfairness of it all. 

“Don’t want your help,” you can’t help the muffled whine it comes out as. All you want is for someone to help you. 

“Of course you don’t, sweetheart,” he soothes. “But let me anyway. S’the least I can do for talkin’ out of my ass.” You finally pull back, looking up at him, and he brings his thumb up to catch the wetness at the fine skin beneath your eye. “Please, don’t cry,” he whispers like it hurts him. 

And even though he’s currently catching the salt of your eyes with his fingers, you lie obstinately, “I’m not,” whispered back just as quiet. 

After he helps you find the correct piece for your sink, finally, which ends up being neither of the options you’d been previously weighing, a fact that almost sends you over the deep end again, and paying for it at his aggravating and overbearing insistence, he walks you to your car. 

“Is he still in Austin?” He asks as he holds your door open for you, your shopping bag still clutched in his hand. One of the guys on his crew had come to find him while you were checking out, but he’d sent him away with a shake of his head, said he had something to take care of. 

“I don’t know, but he sold our house.”

“Fuck– Where’re you living?” The sound of his spit curse has a wet flutter moving through you, shame following bitterly in its wake. 

“I got an apartment in the East Side.”

“And he just left you to fend for yourself? Took your fucking house?” He’s getting angry, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get angry. Something foreign like excitement jumps within you. 

“Well, that’s the point of divorce, Joel. You separate and are left to your own devices.” You reach for the little plastic bag, but he jerks it out of your reach. 

“He has a responsibility to you. He–”

“Again… the point of divorce.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, that boy,” he mutters, shaking his head. And that’s the thing of it, you think, that’s always been the crux of the issue. Sam was always a boy, has always been just a boy… there had never been any chance. “Let me come help you with the sink. Let me fix it for you.” Something to take care of, that’s what he’d said, that’s what he’d called you, what he sees you as. 

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish getting the words out, full of regret, and a wish that it could have all been different from the very start. “You know that isn’t a good idea,” and he goes silent because he does, he does know, he’d known since the first time probably. It had been obvious in the way that a secret thing can only be between the two people involved in the unsaid. “I can do it myself. Don’t worry. I’ll find a way.”

“You still got the same number?” He asks.

“Please, don’t call me. Call Sam. He’s the one that needs you. He’s the one that–”

“And who’s taking care of you? Who’s gonna take care of you, sweetheart? You need someone too, we all do.”

A flash of that earlier anger again, and you reach forward to rip the bag out of his clutch now, angry because he’s right. Because he’d always seemed to have a grossly misplaced ability to read you exactly as you are. He’d read you for what you were from the first second he’d laid eyes on you, naive and hopeful and falsely in love with a son who’d never loved either of you in return. “Maybe,” you tell him, “But that can’t be you.” He looks away from you, gruff sound of irritation passing through his clenched teeth, and he drags a heavy palm down his bearded mouth. Fuck, again that provoking spit curse. The wallpaper in that dark restroom had been covered in little blue motifs, butter yellow details sparsed throughout. It had surprised you, the pretty and delicate design in the home of a, for all intents and purposes, bachelor. It spoke of intention and attention to detail, to his space, to care of his home. That dim moment was, strangely, sickly, the brightest memory of the entire two years of your marriage. 

“You still got my number?” He presses anyways. Unheeded or uncaring of you trying to push him away, and there’s something about that, that’s pleasurable, his inability to let a thing go where you’re concerned, his unwillingness to allow you to hold him at arms length. Like he doesnt care to be kept away from you, and so he won’t. You nod your head once, face burning, molars grinding to keep yourself still and in place. You’d felt, for two years, trapped, running in place, and now left limp and exhausted and colorless, and you hope that he can’t read that exhaustion in you. For some reason, that would be more embarrassing than everything else, for him to see just how defeated you’d been left. He gives you one of those looks, those direct, piercing, aggravating looks that you’ve seen from him before, aggravating in a way that is inciting, like a relentless tongue against a slick swollen cunt, God. Your hands are shaking, and he bends his head down to your level to look at your directly, “You promise me that if you need anything, anything at all, doesn’t matter what it is – that you’ll call me. No matter the hour, no matter what it is. Promise me.” Another sharp jerk of your chin, if you talk you’ll scream or make a sound not wholly belonging to the body of a girl, woman, whatever you are. Another nod, the mute shape of an okay passing through your lips. And his face is so concerned, his hand almost lifted in the imitation of what you have to tell yourself, as a form of self preservation, is an ill intentioned caress or hug, but that you know he’d mean as nothing more than genuine comfort. You deflate in relief when he doesn’t touch you, right here, out in the open for the whole world to bear witness to. Things like that, after all, are only meant for dark, wallpapered bathrooms. He’d already taught you this. 

-

The relationship had not been what either of them had expected, Sam and Joel, from the get go. There was a smallness to his son, a pettiness and a cruelty and a spoiled rotten vein through the core of him that was incongruous with who Joel was as a man, something that was glaringly obvious to all involved. And try as he might, in those early days, they could not overcome the disparity in their personalities. The attempts from Joel at closeness had been fraught with tension and unsaid resentments, and eventually Sam had given up, stopped answering his father’s calls, evading his attempts to connect. Your marriage had spiraled into dissolution shortly after that. As if the failure to find whatever it was he’d for so long hoped for in a relationship with his father had highlighted all of the things you yourself lacked, all the ways in which you were so specifically dissatisfying to him and always would be. 

The marriage had not ended up being what either of you had hoped for, the honeymoon phase quashed and dead early on, no brightly lit halcyon. Reality had set in quickly when confronted with the disjointedness of your pairing, a bone out of place, your specific inability to please him in the ways he’d thought you would when he’d first met you. There was something about you that had always been a little bit lacking, something ascetic and cold natured about your personality at times. Since you were a child, trying to appease an unappeasable father, to emulate a singular mother. Always impossible, always falling just short of utter failure. Not so terrible that you were outwardly obvious in your mediocrity, but never everything you could be. Painfully, succinctly average. Sam had come to realize this quickly. Perhaps, unaware prior to tying himself to you because the only thing you’d ever been not average at, was being a little bit of a liar, of being placatingly complacent when the moment necessitated, manipulative in a way that you found protecting. But you see, that’s what happened when you had a cruel father who always needed appeasing, something Sam, in his abject fatherlessness, couldn't understand. Funny, you’d said that to him once, near the end, called him abjectly fatherless, his weakness a consequence of his lack of a paternal role model, and oh, how he’d hated that. Endings could bring out such cruelty in people, you’d found. 

But the manipulation of a moment had become, in some ways, your only talent. The art of superficial gratification at a moment's notice as a way to keep the people around you falsely happy and calm. Like all small and frightened creatures, you’d learned your strengths well, but as all truths do, yours had eventually surfaced. The fact that you weren’t really so appeasing in the ways he desired, not so nice, not so perfect, not so subservient. That the persona was all just a way to keep him happy as a means of getting someone to love you, to stay because you didn’t know how else to be. 

Your mother always said you could’ve been nicer to him. She was a kind, soft, patient thing. Quiet and easy and always, always, above everything else, understanding. It was the worst thing about her. A detriment, a weakness, and she resented you for your resentment, for seeing her as such, but you could never help it. Always asking you why you couldn’t just be a nice girl, a good girl. 

You didn’t think you had not been nice, not been good. You had only been yourself.

Your father had always hated that about you, you being yourself. The man you’d chosen to marry didn’t seem to like it very much either. And she’d tried to instill her better qualities in you, your mother, so you weren’t all bad all the time. There could be a brightness and a lightness and a sweetness to you sometimes, it’s true. You weren’t always all bad. But there was – is still – also a bitterness and a resentment and an anger, a screaming that you could not quell no matter how hard you tried. And so you’d attepted to give him everything you could, your husband, everything you had at your disposal in all ways, to do and be all he could have ever asked of you during those two small years of marriage. Because truly, they had felt so very small, made you even smaller. 

Everything except for sex. You’d never been able to give him that the way he’d wanted. 

At first, it had been normal, sweet, soft missionary in the darkness, tepid insinuations of orgasms, always hushed, always exactly how he wanted it. But eventually, when the other parts of you began to fail, he got mean and callous and casually cruel. And as you pulled away physically, he called you frigid, a prude, boring, cold, bad in bed, didn't know how to make a man hard. And it had made you so agonizingly insecure, already a sensitive and anxious thing when it came to your physical form, he’d beaten you down, embarrassed you, belittled you.

With time, you’d realized the truth of it which had been nothing more than that you’d never really wanted him. He had never made you desperate, he had never made you wet. It was his character, his attitude, yes, but it was also him. He just wasn’t it for you, and it wasnt that you were a prude or frigid at all, only that you needed patience and understanding and care, gentleness. Things he possessed none of. 

You just needed a little time to warm up and someone who wanted to give you that time. 

The reality that your life had not been full of varied and foolish adventures, and that time had seemed to simply slip away like an echo in the brain from one moment to the next was duly painful. A handful of months of wan and false lust, two years of cold, bitter marriage, and now, six months of barren aloneness. Too many mistakes had been made, too many regrets, three big ones that could be held like stones scorched to burn by the sun in the palm of your hand so that even if you let them go eventually, their imprint would still be scarred into your flesh afterwards forever.

So, perhaps the divorce had been painful in the moment. Or not perhaps, there was nothing uncertain about it, you’d fought tooth and nail to make it work, to keep him with you. Prostrated and humiliated and debased yourself. But with time, it became obvious that it was a fantasy you decided you should finally cast aside, as all children do childish things at a certain age. And then, it had been the easiest thing in the world. After all, and let’s be honest now for a moment, the reckoning had come in the shape of his father. That is, at the end of it, the reason you’re really here. 

Sat now, before the open cabinet below your kitchen sink, leaky pipe drip, drip, dripping monotonously in front of your glazed over eyes, you think of him. He’s a large man, intimidating and dark and stoic. Taller and broader than his son. Lush, mahogany curls streaked with silver that speak of age and experience like the smile lines around his eyes. Deeply grooved when he laughs that beautiful laugh of his. He looks exactly like the opposite of whatever his son is, like he’d have the ability to make the opposite of you, to pull out of you whatever the antithesis is of what his son was able to. It had been immediate, the nature of your thoughts towards him. The desire, the desire, the desire, you had wanted like you’d never wanted before — like an illness, like dying. 

Your marriage had been circling the drain, and then you’d met him, and it should have been innocuous. He’d been kind and polite and welcoming, but also, aloof. Holding himself at a distance, something afraid that he carried within himself, like he didn't want to hope, like he was just a little bit scared of what it meant now to have a son, something to lose. You knew a little bit about that, the worst part of it all is never the cruelty, it’s the hopelessness. Everything had become so much worse after meeting him. An unbearable sort of awareness of something that your listless, frigid self recognized as man, man, man, something like hunger. Something slanted about the desire, wrong, sure, for he was your husband's father, and yet, you wanted him. You wanted to know what he smelled and tasted like, and what the weight of his cock on your tongue would feel like. If it was bigger than his sons, you were almost positive of that, if it would stretch the corners of your mouth to near splitting, the hinges of your jaw to aching. 

You’d met your husband's father, and had realized, painfully, with uncompromising clarity, all that your husband could be, all that he was not, all that he would never be. There was no comparison between the boy and the man, and it made you hurt. 

Your eyes flit back to the screen of your open laptop and the instructional video there, popping another fuzzy peach gummy onto the flat of your tongue, mouth full of sucking sugar. You’re going to fix this sink if it’s the last thing you do, and you’re not going to think about him again. But tomorrow, you’ll start not thinking about him tomorrow. The talent of a liar never really wanes.

The apartment is quiet, nothing but the cheerful crackling of your sweet pumpkin candle and the mocking splish splash of the drain pipe. You had, in recent weeks, come to think of your abandonment as something of an accomplishment. Perhaps, your loneliness is a good thing, you’ll tell yourself as a comfort, a sort of friend; you can’t be used against yourself again in this solitude, and oh, how you’d been used. That anemia in your character, the ascetic thread of your personality had been weaponized and wielded against you until you couldn’t tell up from down and left from right. You were certain there’d been cheating, even if you’d never had any proof to confirm it, merely grateful you’d never gotten sick as way of evidence. But you knew. And it could've been so much worse for you, of course, of course it could have. But he’d left your mind so off kilter, broken and confused and not yourself. Utterly damaged in a way that was humiliating and devastating when you thought of the way you’d been, such a little person. So often, not a woman, just a little girl. 

And then his father. Joel. Seeing him today – you had never felt the way you should have felt towards him. Like your eyes were open, awake for the first time in your entire life. A man like that – he was changing. And you wanted, needed very much to be changed. Seeing him today, being presented with that reminder of what he was, how he made you feel, how he’d always made you feel. There’s something ghoulish about you concerning him – about this desire. That ascetic or anemic or under-grown, illformed thing about you, exterminated in the thrum of how alive he is. How unlike his son. You’d never known what it specifically was, never been able to categorize it, and then there had been that moment, brought so low, six feet beneath the ground sort of debased, and he’d been there and you had been – unburdened from the weight of his own son, by him, and you’re not even sure he knew the extent of it. The power he’d wielded over you in that moment in the dark. And you can’t say it out loud, what it is you’d want from him, you can’t even say out loud what it is about him that changes you as it does – not a woman, just a little girl – but you think that if you could just see him, then you’d know, or maybe you could be brave. You don’t know what it is, but you’d know it then, with him in front of you, you’d have the answer to this question that’s plagued you for so long – how to be yourself in a way that is good.

You’re pushing yourself to your feet, fueled by the thought, fingers gripped over the ledge of the counter to pull yourself up, sink forgotten, stumbling to your front door, shoving your feet into your shoes and fumbling for your keys. How to be yourself in a way that is good. 

When you were seventeen, your father had been at his angriest. Angry in that way that all angry father’s are. Loud and brutish – an anger that is cowing, a sign of true weakness. Brute force in the shape of the man who gave you life. When you think of it now, even as a grown woman, you still feel that phantom limb of fear, and you know that it isn’t normal for a grown woman to be afraid of her father, and yet you are. And then to think that you’d gone from your parents home directly to the bed of the same sort of man, one even crueler, if possible. You’re forced to laugh your singular terrible, self deprecating laugh at the irony of it – even worse, if possible. For what’s worse than a person who constantly needs to be soothed into kindness and patience and calm? 

Once, in that terrible seventeenth year, funny and strange and unknowingly perfect, you’d been gifted the Farmer’s Almanac by your elderly neighbor. She’d said that she’d read it since she was a girl, liked the peace in knowing that the year had been predicted by experts and put down on paper. It made life seem more secure, more in control in a small way. You’d needed that during that turbulent time, locked in your teenage bedroom, lulled to sleep by the sound of your father’s anger and the year’s long-range weather predictions before your blurry eyes. It was so comforting to be able to read the future in text, catastrophe or sunshine, at least it was there. You still read it to this day. And there’s no congruity to the thought now, as you crawl into your car, a ghoul in the night, banging your knee on the hastily opened car door, sprouting gooseflesh in the cold; this desire, desire, desire that is the worst thing you’ve ever felt in your whole life, and yet, you can’t bring yourself to stop because there is something about control in this moment also. Control like knowing what the future will be like on paper, control like a man who is entirely grown into himself, who knows who he is and who he is not and is not uncertain, who will not yell, who will not hurt you. He has this – your husband’s father – you know he does. There is something about control, there is something about knowing how a thing will be, there is something about being yourself in a way that is good. 

-

You’d picked up the wrong wine on your way here. Rushing, trying to fix your makeup in the car, you’d gotten confused, chosen the one he didn’t want instead of the one he did. And it was nothing, or an accident, surely nothing to incite his ire, but he’s so fucking angry hovering in front of you. He looks at you, now sometimes, like he hates you, like you’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. He said you’d humiliated him in front of his father. That he was going to think he didn’t have good taste, couldn’t afford a decent bottle of wine. And you don’t know Joel very well, but he doesn’t seem like the type of man to care about such things. Calling you an idiot in that poisoned shrill tone he takes on when he’s delivering a set down, and you’re trying to tell him to please, please keep your voice down, Sam, your father is going to hear you. You’d heard someone say once that a truly powerful man never feels the need to raise his voice, it simply isn’t necessary for him, and you’re reminded, terribly, of your father, with the sight of your shrill and seething husband in front of you.  And then a low toned that’s enough, son from the mouth of the kitchen, and it’s so much worse, entirely catastrophic in a way, and you’re rushing away so humiliated, face on fire, tear caught over the trough of your lower lid, trying the doors in the hallway for the nearest restroom. You hear the murmur of voices, one struggling to maintain composure, the other, cool and steady, then the slam of the front door, and finally, the silent din of his house settling around the two of you as you find a restroom to hide in. Your heart beats so fast it makes you nauseous, knees strangely aching, listening to the heavy steps of Joel’s boots, as if he’s trying to warn you with those measured, weighted thuds that he’s coming, coming, coming for you. Turning to face the far corner of the restroom, you press your palm over your mouth, face slippery and burning and so stupid, the soft swoosh of the opening door, a paused breath as he takes in your form huddled into the wallpaper, and then the muted snick of the door closing behind him, shutting the two of you away together.

Part II

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[manicplank]

The Color Pink (Part 3)

Noisecouple noisecouple noisecouple noisecouplenoisecouple NOISECOUPLE NOISECOUPLE NOISECOUPLE

NOISE COUPLE

N O I S E C O U P L E

This one is loooong. I have no regrets.

Another morning, another alarm, another tired Hazel. As much as she loved her career, she wished she chose something that happened a little later in the day. She did her morning routine as usual. She was a bit more motivated lately on account of her last encounter with The Noise. Every day she hoped and hoped that he would come in again. The last time they spoke, it was more than just small talk. She really felt a connection with him. She got extra dolled up and pretty each day. She was taking extra good care of herself. She didn't want to get in her own head, but... She had a bit of a crush on The Noise. The next time she saw him, she wanted to impress him. Unfortunately, she took her sweet time and ended up being late!

She rushed over to the cafe. The Vigilante and a couple of The Pig City police were waiting for her at the door. "Hazel," The Vigilante greeted her cheerfully. "You look bright and awake." She smiled as she unlocked the door. "Thanks," she said, "I accidentally took my time this morning. Sorry for being so late!" She hurried back behind the counter and started the brews. She scattered around try to ready mugs. She went to hand menus to the cops that had sat down, but they denied the menus and said they wanted their usuals. She headed back to the counter. "Vigi, want your usual, too," she asked him. He nodded, "Mhm!" She settled a little as she didn't want to mess up any of the orders. She served out the coffees and apologized again for being so late.

It was still early morning when the piggy police got up and left. They paid, but as usual, left no tip. The bell rang as they left. She sighed, finally coming down from her anxious rush. "Doing alright, today," The Vigilante asked.

"I'm doing okay," she responded. "I'm just feeling... different, lately."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I... Well, it's hard to explain. I feel like... something is waiting for me. Something good, something nice."

"That must be a good thing."

"Yeah. At least, I hope."

---

It had been a few days since he went to the cafe, but The Noise was still feeling a bit energetic and spry. He kept thinking about going back. He figured it was just his caffeine addiction kicking in again. It had been so long since he had good coffee. He thought about that girl and how sweet she was. He couldn't remember her name... Yet he couldn't get her out of his mind. She was so blunt with him. She didn't treat him like some godly celebrity like everyone else did. He was starting to think he liked her. But only as a friend, totally just a friend. Or maybe she was just displaying good customer service...

He was too picky and stubborn to drink the pizza-flavored coffee. His sluggishness in the morning was definitely an obstacle when it came to early morning filming. He yawned. He had completely slept through his alarm, but thankfully, he set it earlier than need be. He knew he would oversleep. He absolutely despised early mornings. He got out of bed hesitantly. He groaned as he stretched out. He sighed. He swished some mouthwash around his teeth and spit it out. He quickly got dressed in costume and headed out. He still had some extra time, so he figured he'd stop by the cafe.

The bell rang as he walked through the door. The Vigilante turned around on the stool and stared. It was The Noise. The Vigilante wasn't a big fan of him. He knew he was a criminal in The Pig City, and he wasn't too keen of him being around Hazel. She turned around to face the door. She gasped and clasped her hands together when she saw that The Noise was back in her cafe. "Hey," she greeted excitedly. "Hey," he spoke softly.

"You're here real early!"

"Yeah, early morning on the set today."

"Well, what can I get you?"

He yawned and sat down at the counter. The Vigilante's eyes followed him the entire time. The Noise stared back. "I don't know, yet," he said.

"Here," she handed him a menu, "this should help."

He read the menu for a few minutes. "Ehh, I think I'll do a hot coffee, dark brew, half n' half, caramel syrup, and three sugar."

"I'm on it!"

The Vigilante stared The Noise down. Noise stared back with a grimace. If looks could kill, they'd both be dead. Hazel went to make his coffee but stopped in her tracks. "Oh, I forgot to ask," she aired, "was this for here or to go?" Originally, The Noise was going to order to go, but the way The Vigilante looked made him want to stay just to piss him off. "You know what," The Noise said as he stared The Vigilante in the eye, "I think I'll stay here." He smiled deviously. His face switched as he looked over to her.

"I hate to ask this," he laughed a bit, "but what was your name again?"

She handed his coffee to him. "My name's Hazel." She looked at him and smiled.

"Sorry, my memory isn't the best." He sipped his coffee and rested his chin on his hand. He gave The Vigilante the side eye then looked back to her.

"So, have you been doing any better?"

"A little bit, actually. I've been trying my best to make it better, you know?"

"How so?"

"For starters, I've been taking better care of myself. Stopped drinking as much. Been getting more sleep."

"Oh, yeah? That sounds much better for you."

"Yeah. How about you?"

"I've been doing the same. Well, the taking care of myself part, not the drinking." She giggled nervously.

He chuckled. "So, you're drinking more?"

"No, no! I meant-"

He laughed again. "Kidding! I'm kidding!"

She sighed in relief and laughed with him. "Oh, my gosh, you're ridiculous.

The two stopped laughing and the room fell silent. "You know," The Noise cleared his throat, "this might sound crazy, but..." He looked down at the counter and twirled his finger in a circle.

"What is it?"

"Would you, uh... be willing to go to lunch with me, sometime?"

The Vigilante gasped in disbelief, and Hazel gasped in excitement. "Are you serious?!"

The Noise looked up at her. "Dead serious."

"Of course! I mean- yeah, sure, whatever."

The Noise laughed. "Playing it cool, huh? You got a pen and paper?"

"Yeah, here." She handed him a pen and a small notepad from her apron.

He stuck his tongue out as he wrote on the paper. "Here," he tore the paper off and handed it to her, "this is my number. Give me a call, and we can make some plans." The Noise's phone began to ring. "Speaking of phone calls... That's one of the people on set. I'm running a bit late, so I gotta go." He stood up and took out his wallet. "What do I owe ya?"

"Oh, uh, hold on, I have to ring you up."

"You know what, just take this." He pulled out $100 and handed it to her. "Keep the change."

Hazel was completely shocked. "What?! No, I can't take this!" She tried to hand it back to him.

"Please," he grabbed her hand gently, and she blushed. "Keep it. Think of it as a tip."

He winked and headed off out of the door. The Vigilante was still staring in complete shock. "The HELL just happened," he shouted. Hazel was still starstruck. Her brain was still processing the fact that The Noise just gave her his number. Her heart was racing.

"HAZEL!"

"Whaa?!" She shouted as she snapped back to reality. "Oh, sorry, Vigi."

"Why the hell would you wanna go out with a crook like him?"

"Are you kidding me? I have, like, the biggest crush on him!"

"He's a criminal!"

Hazel immediately got defensive. "Vigi, I'm sure you've done some bad things in your life, too."

"You'll be in danger!"

She gave The Vigilante a look and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Do you want a refill or not?"

"Nah, I gotta get going, too." He slowly lowered himself from the stool. "And stop lookin' at me like that. I'm just worried for your safety."

"And if I need you, I will call you." She rang him up, and he paid her. "Rest assured, Vigi. I'll be fine. Here's your receipt."

--

The Noise lit a cigarette as he walked down to the third floor. He was shaking and his heart was racing. He couldn't believe he just asked her out. He exhaled smoke and took a deep breath. His phone rang again, but he sent it to voicemail. He took his time walking to the NTV building as thoughts raced through his head. What did I just do?! Why did I do that?! I didn't even think it through! I mean, I keep thinking about her... No! It's fine, it's fine... Everything will be fine.

[gomzdrawfr]

what's good party peeps i bring u nothing but more bear!Price

i made him larger...

check out part 1 | part 2

[saradika-graphics]

hello i love your dividers so much!! if you haven't already, could i request for a pink tulip-themed one?

hi, thank you so much! this sound so cute, I can definitely do some tulips for you! 🌷💕 Hope you like them!

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please consider liking or reblogging if you use 💕

[lexosaurus]

So here's a question I've been wondering:

In the Danny Phantom canon we accept that ectoplasm is green, and it's shown to be green in liquid and gaseous forms. With this piece of information in place, then why in the following state of matter, plasma, does it turn pink?

[spencerslover-blog]

He got that boyish look that I like in a man, i am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans. It's like I'm seventeen, nobody understands, no one understands.