#<- trying to think of a tag for this series

[eupheme]

— through the garden

logan howlett x mutant!f!reader

rated e - 2.4k

tags: mutant!f!reader, (newly) established relationship, domestic predator/prey, a chase through the grounds, two cuties in love, flowers as a physical & metaphorical symbol for love, outdoor sex, PiV, creampie

a/n: part of heat waves. a little summer blorbo series ☀️ I imagined the reader in this to be the same as from eden - back when they first met 💖

“Think you’re cute? Tryin’ to run.”

The hot exhale of breath makes you shiver, even as you smile, “Didn’t think you’d catch up so easily. Thought I lost you in the garden.”

Logan scoffs, grip tightening, “Could find you anywhere, sweetheart.”

His voice pitching lower then, something just for you.

“Can’t hide from me.”

Logan finds you in the garden.

You hoped he would. Needing the open sky above him after so many hours spent inside training - almost as much as he needs you.

Finally leaning into that pull that has been woven between you since the beginning.

Taking root, blossoming in your ribcage until you felt full to bursting. Biting back soft sentiments, knowing it was too soon to voice something your heart had known for so long.

A silhouette that starts dark against the stone walls of the mansion. The familiar white tee and worn blue jeans streaked with a sunset of pink and orange as he moves closer.

That steady pace that you had picked up on, kneeling in the dirt. Weeds yanked from the root, exchanged for fresh bulbs. Eyes flicking towards the sounds of his steps. Slowly rising, and you wait - the heavy weight of your responsibilities shed out here.

Leaving just you and your thudding heart behind.

Your gaze meet his, that pretty shade of brown and green. Close enough now that he can catch the flash of your teeth with your grin and then -

You’re running.

There’s a surprised huff behind you - you can picture his frown, that drawn-together pull of dark eyebrows. A heartbeat passing, before the thud of his boots follow.

You knew he would. Unable to help, after he saw you. Some animal part inside him let free - enticing him into the chase.

Only your knowledge of the grounds and lightness of foot keeps you a step ahead. A laugh echos in the hedge garden - the press of your feet against worn stone, weaving down the paths. Ducking around berms, flowers that spill over in shade of pink and pale cream.

Following a trail you know as well as the back of your hand. Leading you deeper, and deeper into the grounds.

Anticipation spikes, with each heavy step behind you. The thudding spike of excitement and fear blending with the hope that he will catch up.

Heat already pooling low, with that tell-tale twinge of need. Damping the fabric between your thighs, as you flit through the thick line of trees.

Goosebumps prickle across your skin, sweat beading at the nape of your neck.

Just managing to make it through to other side. The long, dirt path before you, framed with the thin, pointed junipers you’d had tended yourself.

Only the roof of the mansion visible behind you through the tall grove as you peel off to the left, and race towards the lake.

The steps behind you coming faster on open ground, as your heart inches up your throat. Unhindered by the weight he carries now, making up for the time spent winding through trees.

Finally catching you, at the old tree by the edge of the water. Arms encircling your waist, ensnaring you as you gasp with surprise and pleasure.

A nose buried in your neck, as Logan crushes your back against his chest. Ignoring the way you wiggle in his grasp, the words almost growled out.

“Think you’re cute? Tryin’ to run.”

The hot exhale of breath makes you shiver, even as you smile, “Didn’t think you’d catch up so easily. Thought I lost you in the garden.”

Logan scoffs, grip tightening, “Could find you anywhere, sweetheart.”

His voice pitching lower then, something just for you.

“Can’t hide from me.”

And you know what he means. That it’s useless to try, not with his senses.

Not with the honey-sweet stickiness between your thighs, his own personal bouquet. A reveal one he loosened during one of your early nights together.

On another evening, you might be embarrassed. Reminded again how he must have known how you felt long before you told him. Cataloging the thundering of your heart. The look in your eyes, the perfume that bloomed across your skin.

Holding himself back for weeks, waiting for you to come to him. To finally take the offers he’d been dangling, wrapped up in slick innuendo - for what they really were.

The butterflies in your stomach burst from their branches. A thrill igniting, pulsing low. Awakening that dormant part inside you, one that wouldn’t mind a chase like this again.

And he senses it - that change inside you, as you squirm to face him. The way your eyes darken when they finally meet his own blown-wide ones, that hitch in your breath.

“And what are you going to do?” You manage, “Now that you caught me?”

His own gaze turning greedy. The flash of teeth in a knowing smile, before his mouth presses to yours.

Letting you feel what the chase - what you - did to him. His tongue dips against the seam of your lips as your hand flattens over his racing heart. How he tugs you flush until it’s impossible to miss the thick bulge in his jeans, straining against the zipper.

The words growled out, with the rut of his hips.

“Gonna take what’s mine.”

Your moan is swallowed, as you’re lowered with him. Tucked against the tree where so many afternoons had been spent beneath the sprawling branches.

Turning pages and lesson plans jotted down between stolen kisses.

Thighs split to make room for him, as the setting sun is blotted out by the breath of his shoulders. Arching over you - unable to stop touching, now that he has you.

It’s almost like you glow beneath him. The pleased curl of your lips, eyes half-lidded. Soaking in the sun all afternoon, warming you down to your bones.

Turning your limbs leaden, as he molds you to fit him. Elbows braced on broad shoulders as your arms twine around. A broad hand spanning across the small of your back, as you let him steal another kiss.

And then another.

You part for him. Moaning into the lick of his tongue. Fingers twisting into thick, dark hair - mussing its careful styling.

All the while his own hands wander. Nearly as methodical as the chase - brushing over learned places that send a shiver down your spine.

Jaw and neck, the pad of his thumb running over your sternum. A knuckle teasing the curve of your breast, as your teeth press against his lip.

Lower, lower.

He cups you, then - a palm curving against your cunt. Hips shifting, as he groans in your ear. Fingers toying at the hem of your shirt, inching it up until his other palm can slip beneath.

Kneading at your breast, feeling the tight bud of your nipple beneath the thin bra.

“We should-“ The start of a protest is half-hearted.

Your game had taken you away from the garden grounds. Unlikely to be disturbed this late in the evening.

And already you’re pressing into his touch - rolling your body until the heel of the hand below grinds against your clit.

“Don’t make me wait.”

Another moan slips free at his words - half command and half plea. Your own fingers sliding from his biceps, the fabric tugged taught over them. Up to lace behind his neck, and draw his mouth down to yours again.

Hunger licks at you both - in the part of your lips, how eager he is to deepen it. Your legs close around his hips as he leans into you, the hand leaving your core so his thigh can press between yours.

His hum echoing yours as the seam of your shorts pull taut, hinting at friction as he gives you something to grind against.

Relief and the need for more twisting together, as he flexes into the roll of your hips. Another nudge and then another, until your own plea slips free.

“Please, Logan.”

There’s another hum, amusement at your impatience - only breaking the kiss long enough to hike your thighs up. The hand leaving your tits to hook around your shorts and underwear. Yanking them down as your knees press against his chest, as his other hand works at the thick, silver belt buckle at his waist.

A sigh against your lips, as he tugs himself free. Pressing you back into the cradle of strong roots as he ruts against your thigh. Hot and heavy, smearing his need against your skin until you manage to reach down.

Fingers encircling the thick shaft of his cock, tipping it until the head nudges against your slit.

Logan is already bucking forward. Knowing you can take it - could smell how ready you were the moment he brought you to the ground.

“Fuck.” It’s ground out, as your heat wraps around him. The slick slide as he sinks in one inch, and then another, “S’what you needed, isn’t it? What you were waiting for.”

“Yes.” You pant, back arching, “Yes, I need it. Need you.”

Eyes fluttering as your ankles end up braced against a shoulder. The bite of his nails against your calf as he seats himself inside you, another betrayal at how deep his need runs as well.

Enough that leaning into it. Near bending you in half in an attempt to get closer. Needing to feel every inch notched deep inside you, pressed flush until the coarse hairs at the base of his cock tease at your clit. The slick drip of your cunt sticky against the heavy sack that rests against your ass.

Stripped down to your bones, you’re just like him.

Needing this as much as he does, still basking in the open air and the sinking sun above, even if you do have to bite back your sounds.

“More.” You manage instead, when he takes too long.

A rough sound in response, almost a growl, before it’s almost becoming too much. Another sharp, single thrust has you fully split open, before he begins short snaps of his hips to keep you full.

Bliss radiates inside you - your fingers quick to drift down, across your belly. Teasing at your clit, as his hands tighten around your legs. Using the leverage to lean back - to watch - as he’s dragged half-way out. The slick sound as he thrusts back in.

How your fingers twitch and stutter. Pressing harder. Lips parting in a pant as he sets a steady rhythm, thighs smacking against the curve of your ass.

Letting your fingers fist in his shirt. Wrinkling the fabric as your hips try to move to meet his. Gasping breath each time he stokes against a spot that brings out the midnight stars early.

Winding you higher, higher. A babble of “yes” and “please”, and “oh my god, don’t stop-“, tumbling from you over and over.

The seeds planted with the first steps of your chase starting to push to the surface, as your fingers trace down to feel him. A low grunt as they tease along his shaft, only to pull more of your slick arousal back up to the throbbing between your thighs.

His gaze snaps back to yours when the words peter out - catching the way you’ve gone stiff, breath held. Eyes half-lidded as your muscles flex beneath his palm, how your fingers move faster as you tighten around his cock.

“Logan-“

“I know.” It’s gritted out.

“Know you’re right fuckin’ there with me. Wanna feel you squeeze it, honey-“

The words cut off, with his groan. The long strokes turning shallow again as he grinds himself deep. His hands dropping to the gnarled roots below, the crack of bark as he chases his own end. Another sharp rut, before he’s spilling inside you.

Your answer is a loose tumble of sounds as you follow, with the throb of his cock. Fingers rubbing soaked flesh as the feel of the warmth spreading inside you sends you over the edge.

A cry cracks through the evening light, as the pleasure bursts from you. The small peppering of buds across the roots of the tree unfurling - petals twisting open as you pulse around him. Stretching out in all directions, blooming over your skin and twisting up the trunk of the tree.

The prick of rose thorns against your wrist. The petal unfurling on the peonies beneath you, as his hips slow. Camellia and gardenia worn like a second skin.

Out of season, but not for you.

It’s lucky, that he has his claws. The punch of metal through flesh, reflecting the sharp grin as he carefully cuts you free.

You’d be one with the earth, without it. Broken down into your base needs, blanketed the emotions buried so deep inside you.

Funny that the man who caused them, would be the one to free you as well.

Silken petals twirl between blunt fingers. A flash of red before the bud is tucked behind your ear. A rose blooming against your temple.

Logan’s expression must match yours, as his arm stretches out. Leaning into this garden you’ve created, cushioned with the physical manifestation of your heart - now worn so clearly on your sleeve.

“Yours, huh?” It slips from you. A call back to earlier - those growled out words as you wriggled in his arms.

“Yeah.” It’s husked out, “That gonna be a problem?”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you grin.

“Never.”

There’s a low huff, his own laugh, as his eyes tip up to the sky.

It used to bother you. The blooms. How obvious they made you feel. Nothing hidden, in the sprout of petal across your skin.

But right now-

You don’t think you’d have it any other way.

It takes longer to move. To find your leaden legs again. Tugged to your feet, heat warming your cheeks at you fix your clothes back in place.

Still not ready for the gossip. The teasing, despite everything and the affection laced within the words.

The grounds are dark now, as your hand fits in his. Taking the slower route back home, down the path and through the forest. The mansion looming back into view, as you’re drawn back into your life, once more.

“Logan, wait.”

You almost forget.

The blissful smile faltering as your bare feet dig into the ground. Plucking at the petals that still linger in your hair, trying to rid yourself of the evidence.

Still shy, at the way he affects you. How he makes you lose control - your shared tree will surely remain adorned, until tomorrow.

Hands close around your wrists. The brush of a thumb against your pulse, where your heartbeat thrums. Halting you, drawing them back down as he takes you in.

“Don’t.” Logan husks.

“I like ‘em.”

thank you so much for reading!! 💐 it seriously means the world 💖

[satzumosupremacy]

Elite Bodyguard Series: Pt.13

Gift In Disguise

Male reader X Kwon Eunbi

Tags: Smut, not a mommy Eunbi 9.2k Words

A/N: Does mention a little blood and violence but you should be fine :)

Every movement is calm, controlled, and efficient. But you carry a kind of danger. It can serve good or evil, but make no mistake—you are dangerous, more than what people realize. It’s not something you like to show, unless you want to make a clear statement.

Someone always has to learn the hard way. Just like today, you’ll give back what they bring. Psychological mind games, manipulation, subtle pressure, controlled silence and chaos—you’ll escalate it calmly, with precision, only if it’s necessary. This is your playing field.

“Boss?” Shadow—a colleague of yours say, pausing as he looks back at you.

Eunbi glances over too with curiosity in her eyes, wondering why you stopped short just before turning around the corner toward the elevators. She tries to follow your gaze but quickly finds nothing. Shadow, on the other hand, catches the signal instantly. No words needed.

This is just one of the many things that set you apart as a bodyguard—counter-surveillance isn’t easy, and it’s not a skill anyone can easily learn. It’s more than watching your surroundings; it’s about reading people, anticipating their moves. You see someone once, there’s no need to be alarmed. Twice, maybe it’s a coincidence. But the third time, you know you’re being tailed. Easier said than done.

“I need to use the bathroom. Escort Miss Eunbi to her room, Shadow,” you say, making an excuse as you continue to stare down at the person in the lobby from afar.

“Understood, Boss” the bodyguard says and continues to walk with Eunbi following right behind.

And right after Eunbi turns the corner, you adjust your earpiece to radio your colleagues. “This is Boss. Shadow is escorting Eunbi. Ghost, do you copy?”

“Copy.”

“What did security say about the possible Tango? Over.”

“They think we’re overreacting. We can’t do nothing about it. They seem like unseasoned security guards that haven’t gotten their hands dirty before when the threat is posing as a bodyguard.”

No bodyguard should be sitting down when there’s only four that’s in the building. It’s already a red flag. An experienced security guard would have caught on.

"Should I drag him by the hair to security?" you say, half-sarcastic, but not entirely joking. At this point, the risk of something happening is unknown. Anything can happen in a moment. You're not doing this just to protect Eunbi, but to ensure the safety of everyone in the building. It’s really not your job to, but something like this is already a security risk.

The whole time, your eyes stay locked on him—the threat. Whether he knows you're watching from a distance and is just playing dumb, you don’t care. You want him to realize he’s being stalked. You want him to feel uneasy. You want him to be afraid.

“What’s Tango doing? Confirm a description, Boss. Delta is right beside me. Shadow and Miss Eunbi just got out of the elevator and are walking to the room.”

“He’s sitting pretty with a phone in his face,” you reply, still staring down the threat. “Confirming—black baseball cap, black suit jacket, white flannel, black pants, brown dress shoes.”

“Copy that. No changes. Should I drag each security guard by their hair to you, Boss?” Ghost chuckles.

“It’s a good way to hurt their pride, and I’ll be proud—but let’s not get into legal lawsuits.”

“Right. Would you like me to take your place?”

“Rendezvous at my location. Try stalking and make it super obvious. Or try hitting on him if you get bored.”

“Is that really the extent you want me to go, Boss?” Ghost laughs.

“Up to you. Just let me know so we’re on the same page.”

What you really mean is, you aren’t pressuring Ghost to do honeypotting—a form of espionage where a woman flirts with a man to gather information or lower his guard. But if you can get something useful that way, it’s a win. Minimal risk. Maximum gain.

“Eunbi just entered the room a few seconds ago. I’ll be on my way down,” Ghost says.

Once Ghost takes over your position, you step into the elevator and head up to Eunbi. You glance at everyone who passes by from the corner of your eye—head on a swivel, even as they go about their day.

When you reach the room, you tap Delta on the shoulder and motion for him to patrol the floor. No one says it out loud, but the team feels it from the change in your glare—passivity dissolving into quiet tension. The calm watchfulness sharpens. Everyone’s posture straightens, eyes narrow. Surveillance shifts into staging. You and the team aren’t just watching anymore—you’re waiting for the moment to strike.

“Hey,” Eunbi whispers, opening the door after hearing your voice from outside her room. “Oppa.”

“Yes?”

She waves you into the room, and you follow her command. Eunbi gently closes the door behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the brightly lit room while her manager is still out getting snacks.

“Oppa, is everything okay?” she asks cautiously. “You were in the bathroom for so long. Are you feeling constipated? I have some medicine if you are.”

Seriously, what’s going on in her mind? Is she always like this? You don’t even know.

“No. And stick to ‘sir’ like you did before. We aren’t close like that.”

“Alright, Boss,” she replies, which already feels bizarre to you.

“Not that either.”

“Well, you’re not the actual boss-boss, though,” she says, tilting her head slightly. “Right?”

You keep a silent smile, with just a hint of a smirk.

“Hey, you’re a little annoying. At least answer me, Sir,” Eunbi pouts.

You would say Eunbi is an oddball, because how many names is she going to call you by, and within a simple response? She already called you by your name, “Sir,” “Oppa,” “Mister bodyguard,” and an informal “Hey”, all in rotation. It’s not a big deal to you, but it is getting a little annoying when she can’t stick to one name.

“Do you know what psychological misdirection is, Miss Eunbi?”

“A what?” she says, sitting down on the chair while you stand near the door.

If she doesn’t catch on, you’ll misdirect her to another topic—just to gauge how clueless she really is. “Want to know why I told you not to say my name? Get down.”

She stands up, confused, looking around before slowly squatting in front of you with her legs together. “What’s happening?”

“Stand up,” you say, looking down and meeting Eunbi’s gaze with her cleavage in your view, which was unintentional on your end to look down at her.

She obeys silently, still confused as ever.

“Sit back on the chair, Miss Eunbi.”

“W-what are you doing?” she asks, blindly grabbing the chair and sits down.

“At least you’re obedient, Miss Eunbi. Just listen and do whatever I tell you to do. Don’t question, don’t worry. Trust me, and I’ll trust you.”

She chuckles and rolls her eyes at how easily you controlled her. “Oppa, why do you look so paranoid, though? Nothing’s going to happen,” Eunbi says with a smile.

That’s the last thing you wanted to hear—“nothing will happen.”

Even omens exist in your line of work. It’s like telling a first responder, “It’s been quiet.” Anything can happen after that. And the smile Eunbi’s giving you meant to comfort, just hits a nerve instead.

“I’m not paranoid, Miss Eunbi,” you say calmly, letting out a quiet sigh that barely masks the tension coiling in your chest.

“Um, would you like to sit down? There’s a chair right by you. Just look down, like to the left side," she says with a gentle invitation.

“No thanks, Miss,” you reply, your tone clipped but not harsh. “Not here to babysit an adult.”

She exhales, a mix of frustration and concern. “Why are you being like this? Weren’t you more friendly like thirty minutes ago? Is it because my manager’s not here that you’re acting cold to me? C’mon, it’s only been more than like one or two hours.” Her eyes search yours, trying to find a hint of the person she met earlier.

If she were sharper, she’d notice the subtle shift in your posture—the way your eyes flicker toward the door every few seconds, or how your jaw tightens when you think she’s not looking. The threat you’ve spotted more than once over these past hours isn’t visible to her. And you don’t blame her—it’s not her burden to carry.

Still, your guarded demeanor, the silence between your words, the weight in the room—it should speak volumes.

“It’s not that, Miss Eunbi. Please understand,” you say quietly, voice steady but heavy with meaning.

“Eunbi. Just call me Eunbi. Please, Oppa?”

But you don’t budge. “I get it. We met at the awards show when you got lost and couldn’t find the bathroom and talked a little, but let’s stick to professionalism.”

“I don’t like you, Sir.”

“I don’t care,” you shoot back quickly.

“Are we friends? We sure do bicker a lot.” Her smile grows wider, teasing, eyes locking with yours like she’s trying to crack the armor you wear.

You neither know nor care much about being her friend, so you shrug without saying a word.

“It’s okay to be shy and not admit we’re friends. But you should buy my album. I’ll personally include extra goodies—free of charge. I’ll even sign it. Friends should support each other, right?”

“We’ll see,” you say, not planning to spend a dime on her album. “Depends on how I feel.”

“I like this side of you now. It’s kind of hot. The cold with the soft, gentle side mixed in—very charming.”

She’s definitely hitting on you, but you act like you didn’t hear it. Neither does she really get what you’re trying to say.

“Mhmm, okay. Is that all you want to talk about? May I step outside and give you some privacy, Miss Eunbi?” Your voice is calm but carries an edge, masking the tension simmering beneath.

“No. Can you stay with me a little longer? I get kind of lonely sometimes.” Her voice drops a notch, softer, almost vulnerable, and you catch the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air.

You glance at her, the dim light casting soft shadows across her face. Reluctantly, you nod. “What else do you want to ask, Eunbi?”

Casually dropping the ‘miss’ is intentional. Psychologically, she’ll feel a lot better and let you out quicker. You’re playing it smart by controlling the situation. Not in a bad way, that is.

She shifts slightly on the chair, the subtle rustle of fabric breaking the quiet. “How does a woman become a bodyguard? I swear, I saw one standing by my door. Why is she dressed totally different from you?”

“Her call sign is ‘Ghost.’ She’s dressed as a staff member for obvious reasons.”

“And about the guy who escorted me to the room... why does he walk weird after we left you?”

You blink, caught off guard by the question. The faint hum of the air conditioning fills the pause. “What? Why are you so curious about how people walk? That’s kind of weird.”

“I can’t be curious?” she chuckles and adjust her shirt by the collar, to which, you saw a glimpse of her cleavage. “His right arm doesn’t sway much like his left.”

“Cauliflower on his left ear. A stiff right arm. What comes to your mind? He’s the scariest bodyguard here, Eunbi.”

“And you’re not the scariest?” she says, trying to sound sharp, her eyes flickering up and down your figure. “Your nickname should be ‘Little Boss’ then.”

“Unfortunately, no,” you reply. It’s actually an understatement. Some things are better left unsaid.

She shrugs, clearly unimpressed. “You’re kind of boring.”

“Yeah, sorry for getting your hopes up or something. But I have to get going out there. We can talk after everything is done, Eunbi.”

“Fine. Gosh.” Her voice trails off, a mix of disappointment and amusement.

Once you step out of the room, the cool hallway air hits your face. You catch Shadow’s steady gaze as you smooth your sleeve with a quiet sigh. “Anything from Tango?”

“Tango got up and took the staircase. Ghost is following. Should we not make a move? He’s in a secluded space that people won’t see.”

“We move on my command,” you reply firmly. “Tango isn’t an immediate threat until he does something.”

“Anything on your mind, Boss? A plan B?”

“You’re in charge if anything goes sideways. Stay with Eunbi while I’m out. Coordinate with Delta while Ghost and I handle Tango. And do me a favor—don’t tell Eunbi where I am.”

“I—yes, Boss.”

“Did you want to say something?” you ask, your tone softening.

Shadow hesitates, then nods. “I’m not sure Ghost can keep up with your pace.”

“You know her. She’s a tough fighter.” You adjust your earpiece, glancing at Shadow as he acknowledges your words. “Delta, do you Roger? Over.”

“Roger.”

“Go to the lobby and be on standby to escort Miss Eunbi’s manager when they return. Check six and twelve.”

“Roger that, Boss. But what about Tango? I don’t have a good feeling.”

“Ghost and I will handle him. I need you and Shadow to watch Eunbi closely.”

“Boss, I’m against that,” Delta says firmly. “I’ll go in your place.”

Shadow cuts in over the radio, voice sharp and unwavering. “Just listen and do what you’re told, Delta. Don’t make things harder for Boss. He’s not in the mood.”

You lean in beside Shadow and reply quietly, “Shadow…”

And things heat up quickly, out of nowhere.

“Didn’t Boss pull some strings to get you out of prison after seeing you stomping a creep nearly to death? You know damn well you would’ve done time for that. Most people don’t get a second chance after, but somehow, Boss saw something worth saving you from being locked in a cell," Delta snaps back.

“Okay, army brat. Still got that army ego, huh? Always itching for a fight, always ready to kill? Gosh, the military’s the only place you can get away with murder, isn’t it?” Shadow fires back. “Be glad Boss took you in and gave you a second chance. Otherwise, you’d be dead broke, fighting for a country that didn’t give a damn about you afterward.”

“Hey, fucking quit it,” you radio back in a not-so-friendly tone, glaring directly at Shadow with your eyes silently saying, “Don’t make me put you in check.” The radio goes silent for what feels like minutes as you close your eyes, trying to regain some calm after losing a fair bit of your cool.

“Sorry about that, Boss,” Delta finally replies over the radio.

“I’m taking full responsibility for what can happen. Understand that. Acknowledge all.”

“Roger,” delta responds back on the radio.

“Roger,” Shadow responds beside you.

You wait for one more reply—but Ghost doesn’t respond. No verbal answer, not even the faint double-tap on the earpiece that usually signals acknowledgment or silent confirmation.

“Ghost, do you copy?” you radio. “Ghost?”

Your mind races to one conclusion—something’s wrong. You glance at Shadow, who’s staring back at you, his expression darkening with concern. There’s no time to hesitate, no time to gamble on hope. Without another word, you sprint toward the stairwell, pounding down the steps two at a time while Shadow stays behind and watches Eunbi.

“Delta, be advised, Boss is engaging. Standby,” Shadow radios to Delta.

The sudden rush of footsteps draws Eunbi’s attention. She opens the door, startled to see only Shadow standing there. “Where’s… um… your boss?”

“He’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t worry. Your manager should be back any minute now. The radio show isn’t starting for another hour. Get some rest, Miss Eunbi.”

“Did your boss run to the bathroom again?”

Shadow exhales a short, quiet sigh—part amused, part tense. Her question might’ve been funny under normal circumstances, but the situation is far from that. “No, Miss.”

Meanwhile, you’ve already turned the corner, racing down three flights of stairs. As you hit the landing, your eyes lock onto Ghost against the wall, one hand clutching her stomach, her fingers slick with blood.

“Where did he go?” you ask, breath caught somewhere between panic and command.

Ghost winces, jaw clenched, and points toward the nearby stairwell door. “I’m fine. Go get him. He has a knife,” she gasps.

You catch sight of her earpiece on the floor—shattered, useless. She never got the chance to signal. Without hesitation, you pull out your phone, hit the emergency line, and hand it to her with the speaker on. You trust her holding on until help arrives and you quickly leave her to deal with the threat.

“Ghost’s been stabbed. Delta, inform the front desk to shut every door. My orders. Execute, now!” you radio and run full speed quickly after, hoping to catch the threat before anyone gets hurt.

“Lima Charlie, Boss,” Delta responds quickly.

“Going dark,” you declare, slipping your earpiece off and continue to run.

Every scream you hear only pulls you closer, feet pounding against the floor as you run. Your mind is spiraling with frustration and anger burning hot. You should’ve handled the threat earlier. Maybe none of this would’ve happened. But deep down, you know you couldn’t have moved until now.

As you reach the end of the hallway, you spot the threat—knife out, yelling at the broadcast station staffs, demanding something you can’t quite hear over the chaos. But you're past the point of negotiation. One of your own is bleeding out, and you have every right to act in defense.

The staff freeze at the sight of you charging forward. There’s no hesitation in your stride, no warning in your eyes. You’re locked on target, and nothing else matters. In one swift motion, you slam into the threat, driving him hard into the wall. The crack of impact echoes through the hallway as the side of his face smashes against the concrete. You hope the shock will dislodge the knife—but he doesn’t let go. Behind you, the staff break into screams, scattering and sprinting to safety, putting as much distance between themselves and the scene as they can.

And to what you don’t expect, he maintains his balance and grips his knife. But looking down at his knife still in his hands and how he’s holding onto the knife like an amateur, you don’t expect much. The threat takes a good look at you and points the knife right at you.

“Just give up and put it down,” you warn him.

“Scared?” he laughs and charges at you.

Being rushed at took you by surprise. And neither was calming down the situation was an option anymore as you dodge his knife attack easily from how slow he swung. It also took him by surprise. You quickly take this window as an opportunity to charge right at him as an exchange of force.

He tries to fight you off by lowering his arm down, getting the knife sideways with an intent of swinging it out once it connects to your stomach. You know this all too well in an instant as he tries to swing right at you instead after knowing that targeting your stomach was difficult. And neither did that work when you lowered yourself to punch him right in the ribcage. It worked a little too well that he stumbled and lean against the wall for a split second.

From what you just observed and did, you’re not expecting a long fight.

“Are you done?” you say, trying to provoke him, trying to get in his mind while he groans in pain.

He’s not giving up without a fight, or even worse, until you’re seriously hurt by him. Without an answer, he sees you approaching him at the corner of his eyes, and that’s where he strikes you with his knife, slashing your left outer forearm in a clean straight line from a quick defensive maneuver.

You felt every single bit of that slash despite your body fueling you with adrenaline.

But quickly and smartly, you back off and hear the sirens in the distance. To what he doesn’t expect, you stood your ground and crack the bones in your neck, smirking. He doesn’t like anything about how calm you are, even after you lowered your guard to where he got lucky to get a hit on you.

Trying to disarm him was a plan, but with how he’s waving his knife around carelessly for you to not jump back in, it’s not worth a risk. Despite reading his movements, all you can see is how vulnerable his chest was.

One big mistake from you can lead to his death from how the sharp side of the knife can be turned against him with just a strong push. This is something you want to prevent yourself from doing. Neither would it look great.

“Don’t be scared, come at me,” you say, provoking him again as he charges at you blindly, knife aimed dead-center at your stomach like it’s all he’s ever trained for. Very predictable.

You quickly counter him with a sidestep, just enough to let the blade miss, then drive a short, jab to his liver. That would definitely make anyone drop in seconds no matter how tough they are. But he still won’t let go of the knife. He twists with the momentum, swinging back at you—this time the blade grazes your side, then suddenly, you feel it sink in.

Your breath catches as the cold steel bites into your side. The pain blooms fast, hot—but your mind stays clear. You don’t pull away. Instead, you drag him with you, shoving both of you toward the wall, using every ounce of muscle to keep the blade from driving deeper as he suddenly looses all his strength and drops down. You quickly follow, pinning him to the ground before he can recover.

In the back of your mind, time is ticking. The knife isn’t lodged in you. You can already feel the warm trickle soaking onto your shirt, the sharp throb in your side growing louder with each heartbeat. You press your knee harder into his spine, just enough to make him stop squirming.

“Learn how to use a knife properly,” you say, which provokes him. He tries squirming around to get out but you apply pressure to his back, hurting him more and more.

“Ah. Ow. Ow. Ouch. Okay! Damn!” he screams in pain. His breathing is abnormal because of the liver shot delivered from you. “Get the fuck—.”

“Stay down while I’m being nice. And be glad I didn’t hit you hard,” you quietly say with a growl and look around, then back down to him. “Should I demonstrate where it would be better to kill you quickly?”

He doesn’t answer, everything you’re saying is scary when you’re in hands reach of his knife. Waves of dizziness starts to settle, the feeling of nausea kicks in as he groans from the pain, his vision starts to blur.

“It’ll be quick. You’ll feel it for about thirty seconds until your body goes into shock within a minute,”you say quickly, wanting to bring some sort of panic from him on purpose.

All you’re doing is scaring him. And neither was he good enough to put up a fight while armed with a knife. However, you did underestimated the sudden jolt of his willpower that got you hurt in the process. You’ll blame yourself for thinking he would drop the second you punched his liver without too much force.

“You’re just a thug… in a suit,” he slurs. “Another dog… for those soft, rich bastards. Leashed… till they say go.” He grunts, groaning in agony as you slam his face into the cold ground.

You didn’t like what he said one bit.

Within the moments of listening to his words, you wouldn’t say he was wrong—but being called a thug? That was over the line. You don’t want him to think he got in your head—even if he did.

“I don’t need your sympathy. I enjoy preying on people like you. And just to correct you, some hunting dogs can’t ever be controlled by a leash.”

He chokes on his cough, “you’re—fucking insane.”

“Be glad you’re still alive. Your chest looked like an easy target, the way you swung your knife around. You wouldn’t want to see your knife lodged in your heart, wouldn’t you? Especially from your own hands? How about a deep slash to your Achilles tendon? You won’t walk the same after.”

“Fucking psychopath,” he says, spitting his saliva on the ground, wheezing and groaning.

“Say it again,” you murmur and sigh. “You’re no different. You picked the wrong hunting dog and you’ll pay for it by being locked in a cage.”

Yet, despite toning down your aggression and daring him to repeat himself, he stays quiet. At the corner of your eyes, you see police officers running towards you. Slowly, you get off of the threat as he lays down exhausted, and voluntarily.

“Requesting additional medical support,” the police officer says into his radio, his calm, steady voice echoing faintly down the hallway as another officer walks alongside him.

Glancing down at the side of your stomach, you spot the wound. It doesn’t feel deep, but the moment your hand presses against it, pain flares, sharp and pulsing. Blood seeps through your shirt and fingers, faster than you expected, though it’s not the worst you’ve seen. Your grip weakens, but your face stays steady, calm and composed, like this isn’t the first time.

——

It’s the next day, a perfect day to be alone in your quiet house, resting as your injuries slowly heal. Peace settles over everything, undisturbed, until the sharp chime of the front doorbell cuts through the silence at fifteen minutes past noon. The unexpected sound piques your curiosity; you weren’t expecting anyone.

You glance at the front door camera and see Eunbi standing there. It’s completely unexpected. What surprises you even more is that she came alone with her car parked right in your driveway. With a quiet breath, you walk over and unlock the door, ready to greet her.

“Hey, so… um, I heard about yesterday,” Eunbi says, handing you a small bouquet of flowers along with her album and the extra goodies she promised. “I know men don’t usually get flowers, but I thought you might appreciate this.”

“Hi, and… thank you?” you say, a bit confused as you take the gifts from her hands. Flowers from her felt strange, beyond strange, but you appreciate the gesture. “Should I wire you the money? I’m supposed to pay for the album.”

“No, it’s alright. Please take it as a thank-you gift for watching over me yesterday. My manager made sure to send copies to your agency for your colleagues, and I personally signed each one. I promise."

“That’s nice of you, Eunbi,” you say, feeling the smooth weight of the album in your hands. A quiet moment settles between you. The sincerity of her gesture lingers in the air.

“Thank you,” she smiles softly, and a quiet silence lingers between you again for a few seconds.

The stillness feels a little heavy, as if neither of you quite knows what to say next. There’s an unspoken distance between the two of you, neither close enough to fill the silence comfortably. You glance away briefly, the awkwardness settling in as the gap lingers just a bit too long.

“How did you get my address?” you ask. It’s a simple question, but the slight hesitation in your voice betrays your curiosity, and maybe a touch of awkwardness.

“My manager contacted your agency.”

You nod slowly, acknowledging it’s reasonable. “Alright. You probably had a good explanation to get them to give out my address so easily.”

“Are you mad at me?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Why would I?”

“You know, I… I didn’t mean to bother or annoy you yesterday or today, or even jinx anything from happening, Oppa."

“Yesterday? Oh, that’s just because I just didn’t want you to know what was happening.”

“Awh, that’s sweet of you. But are you doing anything today? I got in because your gate was opened. Were you going somewhere?”

“No, someone dropped off a med kit since I was running low. And sorry, I think you should head home. Not in a mood to talk.”

She didn’t like your response one bit. She was expecting you to comply. “Please? Aren’t we friends?”

“Are we?” you reply, tilting your head slightly to the right, a hint of skepticism flickering in your eyes.

“Are we not?” she counters back. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Like what?”

“Let me in,” she says, letting out a cautious, suppressed chuckle.

You turn around, rolling your eyes in mild irritation, and walk away from the door. You’re not in the mood, but you can’t bring yourself to force her out when she hasn’t done anything wrong. “Close the door after you get in,” you call over your shoulder.

Eunbi shuts the door behind her and quickly slips off her shoes. As she moves towards you, her eyes scan the space—much bigger, more modern, and sleeker than the small apartment she’s used to. “How much are you paying for this house?”

“That’s private information,” you say, opening the med kit in the living room and pulling out a small bandage to replace the one on your left arm.

“Ah, that’s right, you’re the boss. It’s not just a nickname. I get it now,” Eunbi says, sitting down beside you on the couch, hands resting quietly in her lap. “Bet it’s paid off, right?”

“No comment.”

She’s quietly taking you in—observing how you don’t treat her like a famous celebrity and how you’re letting her make herself at home. You weren’t the first to invite her in when it’s something she’d expect, but what surprised her most was that you didn’t ask for a photo or autograph. It’s eye-opening for her. For the first time, she feels like her fame has been gently stripped away, and it’s a strangely comforting feeling.

As her gaze shifts to your arm, a flicker of sympathy crosses her face. She begins to feel bad for what you endured yesterday. The room falls silent for what feels like minutes as you carefully peel the plastic off the adhesive.

“I’m sorry, Oppa.”

You meet Eunbi’s gaze, catching the genuine regret in her eyes. You shrug lightly, a small, reassuring smile tugging at your lips. “What are you sorry for? It’s my job, Eunbi.”

“But is violence always the answer? Even when you’re not the one causing the problem?”

“It’s better to calm things down with words,” you say, pausing to press the adhesive firmly onto your arm so it won’t come loose. “But who am I to say that when my colleague got stabbed? Would you do the same as me?”

“I would.”

“I assumed so,” you murmur and reach for the med kit to tightly close as it clicks in place.

“Can I ask you something?” Eunbi says hesitantly. You lean back on the couch, catching her uncertain expression before she meets your gaze. “Uh… how does it feel, being in a situation like yesterday? Is it scary?”

“You don’t focus on how it feels. You focus on what needs to be done. Ask a firefighter, they’d say the same.”

“Were you scared, though?” she asks, glancing at you as you look down at your own hands. You take a slow breath, your fingers tightening slightly before you finally meet her gaze.

“Hmm, it feels like a Sunday night when you know you have to get up and work the next day,” you chuckle, teasing a little as you look at her. “You just gotta get used to it and deal with it, ya know?”

“You’re so annoying,” she laughs, looking away to catch your reflection alongside hers in the TV screen. “But you’re kind of hot to be annoying.”

There she goes again—flirting. But this time, Eunbi doesn’t meet your eyes, even as you watch her closely. It makes you wonder: what other creative tactics does she have up her sleeve?

“My manager told me you got stitches,” Eunbi says, glancing back at you with a curious look.

“I did. Why?”

“Can I see it?”

Should you let her see your stitches? Neither are you close to comfortably lift your shirt up for her to see. But you couldn’t stop being curious on what she’s trying to do. You’ll be more than willingly to stir something up as the tension between the two of you grows. Because what’s really the reason why she’s staying this long?

“Sure,” you say, lifting the side of your shirt to reveal the stitches beneath a gauze pad. For whatever reason, time seems to slow as Eunbi reaches toward the wound without asking. Your hand snaps up, catching her wrist. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She feels the firmness of your grip—but also the unexpected warmth in your touch. Her wrist is slender beneath your hand, your fingers overlapping with controlled pressure, restraint held just at the edge of release.

“Do you… like, feel lonely sometimes?” Eunbi murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. She looks a lot shyer now, like she’s bracing for something—your answer, maybe, or the silence that might follow. Her eyes meet your gaze, unsure if crossing the line between the two of you meant being pushed away.

You’re still gripping her wrist. The tension hasn’t broken—if anything, it’s sharpened, suspended in the space between you. Her skin is warm beneath your fingers, her pulse steady but not quite calm. You don’t speak right away, and in that pause, the weight of her question lingers—louder than either of you expected. In the stillness, your eyes lock, and the two of you stare at each other for just a little too long.

If anything can be read through her eyes, it’s not just curiosity—it’s a flicker of vulnerability, a silent plea for a sense of connection. Her gaze holds steady, soft yet unguarded, and though she doesn’t move closer, there’s a tension there—like she’s daring you to close the space between you.

“I remember you saying you get lonely sometimes, Eunbi,” you whisper. “I get it. I do too.”

She slowly leans in, close enough that you catch a faint trace of her scent. “We’re more alike than you think,” she murmurs. “Sometimes alone, sometimes in a crowd. Always on the move—city to city, country to country, barely any rest. Surrounded by people, by fans, but the loneliness creeps in when no one's around."

You see her point—there’s truth in it—but you’re not ready to buy into it. “I like the way you think, Eunbi,” you say quietly, “but no.”

Eunbi lets out a soft laugh, tilting her head. “So you’re saying no but in a really attractive way. Are you always this charming when you reject people?”

You try to stay composed, keeping your thoughts and lust in check. But it’s hard when she’s this close. The way her tits sit leaves a lot to the imagination when the line of her bra is just barely visible from her tight shirt. And that smile—the way she’s looking at you with steady eyes pulls your desire. The silence stretches with unspoken tension. Your gaze drops to her lips, then back up to her eyes. You crave her, no question. But still, you hesitate.

Your quietness lingers too long to where she adds on with a murmur, leaving her pride out, “have me today, will you?”

“Eunbi,” you say, your gaze locked onto hers, surprised as she reaches for your other hand and places it gently on her chest.

“I get a lot of messages from men. I know exactly what they want from me. But how come you’re not asking or trying to seduce me? I know my boobs are big and all, but are you more of an ass guy?”

You gulp, genuinely unsure how to respond. Part of you wants to play it cool, but another part is caught off guard—unsure whether to joke, deflect, or be honest. Honestly, what the hell are you even supposed to say in a moment like this?

“Am I not pretty enough?” she teases, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “How hard do you want to play before I have you wrapped around my finger?” She chuckles softly, leaning in just a little closer. “You’re pretty feisty. Try kissing me. Might just change your mind.”

You lean in even closer, and she closes her eyes, silently waiting for your lips wherever you dare choose to place them. But what you’re really doing is trying to read her pulse through her wrist—it’s racing faster from your playful teasing. Despite that, Eunbi gently slips her hand under your shirt, pressing her small palm against your chest, silently daring you to make the next move.

She opens her eyes with a flicker of embarrassment crossing her face for having to close them. She sighs softly, “can you stop playing hard to get? I need your help taking off my clothes, you know. Just for a while, make me feel vulnerable. Make me feel wanted.”

“What do I get in return?” you ask with a smirk, finally releasing her wrist that your right hand had been holding onto for what felt like forever.

She pushes you back against the couch’s backrest, straddling you as she leans in close. Her lips find your neck in a quick, heated kiss, and she murmurs softly, “anything.”

You slowly pull Eunbi into your embrace, your left hand sliding from her chest to rest gently at her side. Her curious lips explore you with delicate warmth, and in that quiet closeness, you both find something you’ve been needing—raw, unguarded connection. You want more. Those soft, inviting lips deserve to be kissed deeply, and her body craves the touch only you can give.

“Let me take you to my bed after,” you whisper, feeling Eunbi’s soft lips trail along the side of your neck, devouring you completely. A shiver runs down your spine, your breath catching as warmth floods your body, every nerve ignited by her touch.

“I’d love that,” she chuckles, pulling away just enough to grab both your hands. She compares them, hers noticeably smaller than yours. With a playful smile, she laughs softly, “It’s ironic how your hands were clenched into fists yesterday, but today I’m holding them like I might get manhandled.”

“Is that what you want, Eunbi?” you tease, a slow smile spreading as a playful smirk curls at the corner of your mouth.

“Well…,” she pauses, eyes softening as she glances down at your wound with a hint of playful concern. “Oppa, why don’t you just lie back and let me take care of everything?”

You like her idea—there’s something tempting about letting her take control, but you know damn well you’re not in any shape to do much with that injury to the side of your stomach. It’s a bittersweet feeling: wanting to be involved, yet needing to surrender to the moment.

“Sounds good?” she asks, her fingers lightly tracing the side of your jaw. You can’t help but appreciate the tenderness in her touch—so gentle, especially after the seriousness you showed just yesterday.

“I’m sorry that you have to do most of the work today,” you softly say.

She chuckles softly at your sincerity. “Isn’t that what friends are for? Sometimes we go out of our way just to help a little.”

“You said I can have anything from you, right? Let’s meet next time we’re both free, Eunbi. I’ll make it up.”

“Oh, so manly. You’re not going to take back those words, are you?”

You nod, tilting your head side to side. She finds the gesture way cuter than she expected. “Should we move to a more comfortable place? Your bed?”

With a quiet groan, you lift her into your arms. Eunbi can’t help but giggle, surprised by your sudden strength—and the fact she’s being carried. As you step into the bedroom, the door left slightly opened and forgotten, your eyes stay locked on her, drawn to her eyes.

“Lay down,” she urges softly, tapping your back. “I’ll take it from here.”

After Eunbi slides off, you rest your head on the pillow, eyes fixed on her curves. She slowly undresses herself by taking off her shirt to reveal the light pink bra she has on. You can’t help but admire how stunning she looks by feeling a heat rising inside you as your mind drifts to the thought of your face buried between her tits.

Eunbi grips her waistband, her knees locking in place as she bends down to slide her pants off, letting them fall softly to the floor. You lick your lips and swallow hard, eyes locked on her every move. She teases you with a small, playful sway before crawling onto the bed, settling herself gently on top.

“You’re hot. So damn hot,” you compliment her as your hand brushes against the smooth curve of her thighs up to her hips.

She lowers herself, closing her eyes as her lips part slightly before pressing softly against yours. Like the gentle tide meeting the shore, Eunbi’s touch is both tender and inevitable. You feel the warmth of her breath, the soft weight of her body pressing close. A smile tugs at her lips as she parts just enough to murmur, “may I undress you, handsome?”

Your whispered consent barely leaves your lips before her thighs wrap around you, firm yet inviting, locking you in place. As she pulls your pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, your cock springs free, catching her gaze. Eunbi lets out a slow, deep sigh— the kind that speaks of quiet relief, of tension finally easing as desire takes over.

“It’s so hard,” she chuckles, covering her mouth with one hand, a playful glint in her eyes. With her other hand, she hesitantly traces the waistband of her own panties, fingers trembling slightly as she savors the slow burn between you. There’s no rush—just the tension of anticipation, every second stretching out.

“Come back down and let me take your bra off, Eunbi,” you murmur, voice low and steady, eyes locking with hers. “Just slide your panties to the side.”

She crawls closer, leaning down so you can wrap your arms around her waist and unhook her bra with ease. Her breath brushes against your ear as she whispers, “can’t help but crave my body?”

“Whatever you say,” you murmur playfully, pulling her face closer to press a soft kiss to her lips. Your eyes close as your arms tighten around her. Your tongues dance slowly, teasing and exploring, exchanging heated breaths that mingle with the warmth of the room. Every second, you lose yourself more—the feel of her body, the taste of her lips—completely captivated by such a beauty.

But all that tenderness disappears the moment she breaks away from your lips with a heavy breath and sits upright. “I can’t wait any longer, Oppa.”

You clearly see the dark, damp spot spreading on her panties—proof enough that you’ve already stirred something deep inside her. Without even touching, you’ve got her this wet. The anticipation in Eunbi’s eyes is unmistakable as she slowly crawls back, settling on one knee while spreading the other leg wide. You reach out your hand, offering support in case she loses balance on the soft bed.

Eunbi spits on her hand and wraps it around the tip of your cock as it throbs from a touch. Then with a quick glance at you, she slides her panties to the side and slowly brushes the tip of your cock on her pussy in a teasing way before she slips it in. Both of you exchange a moan the moment you feel the tight hug and Eunbi feeling the length of your cock sliding into her slick walls.

“Fuck,” she breathes out, followed by a soft grunt. Your cock hasn’t even fully disappeared inside her, yet, Eunbi is already struggling to take every inch.

“Don’t rush it, Eunbi,” you let out a breath, feeling the warmth of her walls tighten around your cock.

Her breath catches, and a soft whimper barely escapes her lips. “Oh my gosh,” Eunbi moans, voice trembling with a mix of surprise and pleasure as she arches her back.

You gently grasp her wrist, guiding Eunbi down to lie on top of you. She exhales a heavy, shuddering breath as your bodies press close. “You feel so good, Eunbi,” you murmur, your voice thick with desire for every touch of her skin.

“You’re really stretching me out," she murmurs with her breath soft against the pillow, the warmth of her tits pressing onto your chest. Eunbi moves slowly, riding you with a measured rhythm, savoring each sensation of your cock penetrating her tight pussy—just enough to keep the pleasure building without overwhelming herself and you.

Your lips trail along her shoulders, tasting the warmth of her skin as she muffles a soft moan into the pillow. Your breaths grow heavier, syncing with the rhythm of her movements, while your hands roam freely, exploring the curve of her back before reaching down to her ass. You grab and squeeze, claiming them like it’s all yours with a gentle slap right after.

“So—,” she catches her breath, “aggressive.”

“Sounds like you enjoy it,” you reply back to her with a growl.

“I love it. A lot.”

And that was the last conversation for a few minutes. She’s not riding you hard. She takes every inch slowly, savoring the moment while your cock disappears in and out of her. You let Eunbi moan freely while hearing your own breath catch in her ear. It’s a wordless, therapeutic exchange—your bodies speaking for each other in perfect harmony.

“Eunbi,” you gulp and let a breath out, breaking the passionate silence, “hold on.”

“Can’t help it?” Eunbi murmurs, pausing as she feels your cock throbbing deep inside her. She leans close to your ear, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. “I don’t want you to cum just yet.”

Well, if she doesn’t want you to cum yet, you want her to, on your cock, from your very hands. You’ll make this Waterbomb goddess breathless with her toes curling up. “May you sit up, Eunbi? I want to see how pretty you are.”

That’s one way to make Eunbi’s heart skip a beat. She’s not used to hearing this side of you, and it catches her completely off guard.

“A little flirty, aren’t you?” she gets up slowly from the pillow, chuckling with a smile. Her smile is charming—you’ll admit it, but your attention starts shifting to her tits. She tracks your eyes and grabs your hands, guiding you to touch her tits. “I know you love them.”

“Who honestly wouldn’t?” you murmur and squeeze her tits, playing with them as she grinds on your cock. She holds onto both your forearms as grip while continuing to grind on you.

“Such big arms,” she seductively says, letting out a quiet moan and stares at you for a reply. “How lucky would a woman be to have you?”

“Extremely,” you say, teasing her. She quickly rolls her eyes, getting so annoyed of your cheeky response. It’s almost like she expected that. “What’s wrong, Eunbi?” you softly chuckle to play innocent, when you can assume she’s hating.

“Fuck you,” she chuckles along with you and pauses from grinding to guide your hands to her hips.

“But you are though,” you quickly reply, staring at each other in the eyes, which, you aren’t going to look away until she does. “Take a breath, Eunbi. Slow down if you have to. We have time.”

“Why do you stare at me like that, Oppa?” she says, brushing her thumb on your arm.

“Like… what?”

“You have charming eyes. No one told you?”

You shrug, unsure if she’s just bluffing because she’s on top of you with your cock deep inside her.

“It’s a compliment, by the way,” she murmurs and rides you slowly, not breaking eye contact. But you can clearly see how pink her cheeks have gotten. Slowly, you trace one hand down from her tits to her crotch as she lets go from your arms and place it on your chest. You slowly rub her clit as she lets out a whimper with her body quivering. “It’s sensitive, Oppa,” she moans.

Well, that just makes it a whole lot easier.

“I want you to cum, Eunbi.”

She stops riding you once the tip of your fingers rub her clit in circles. Eunbi’s moans get loud, neither are you stopping when your cock is lodged so deep that you can feel every pulsation from her walls. She struggles to even position still on top. You’re enjoying this, a lot. Just hearing the beautiful voice of hers makes you want more.

“Oppa,” she murmurs out with a groan and her body starts quivering uncontrollably, grinding gently on your cock. Eunbi’s breath turns heavier, arching her back, closing her eyes as she faces up towards the ceiling, cumming hard with her hands gripping onto your chest. It’s a sight to see her tits mashing each together with the body spasms as she continues to whimper and moan. Eunbi quickly grabs onto your hand, stopping you from rubbing her clip. She can’t handle more as she lets out a gasp, begging you to take it a little easy on her.

“Come back down, Eunbi,” you murmur, pulling her down as you’re greeted with her tits in your face. So without a single hesitation, you suck on them—both sides in respectful turns. Her breaths are still heavy as she rides out her orgasm. You burry your face between them and catch a breath, all while she smiles from all the sensitive nerves being felt from her chest and your cock.

“I told you my pussy is very sensitive,” Eunbi chuckles in between her breaths.

“Couldn’t help it,” you murmur, not a thought of stopping from feasting on her tits.

She continues to ride your cock slowly. There’s a sense of shyness from Eunbi after you made her cum. Every subtle touch and attention of yours makes her have some closure like she wanted.

You take a breath as she doesn’t stop pushing back down onto your cock. “Keep going. Just like that, Eunbi.”

“Love it that much?” she murmurs and lets out a seductive chuckle.

“Yeah,” you utter, gasping. Your hands reach to her ass for a tight, yet gentle squeeze.

Eunbi can tell you’re reaching your limit from how creamy and slick your cock’s penetrating into her. If Eunbi can make you have a memory of her, she’ll want this next moment to be for you. If she’s all smiling and laughing on your screen, Eunbi wants you to know that there’s still unfinished business the more she waits for a second time together.

“Cum,” she murmurs, kissing your neck, “cum inside this tight, little pussy.” Then she takes a quick breath, “it’s all yours, handsome.”

“Don’t slow down,” you gasp, grunting as Eunbi smiles by the way she picks up the pace. Feeling every throb, every breath onto her tits, and hearing your moans, you cum, making her feel the warmth of you cumming inside her. However deep Eunbi wanted it, you couldn’t stop cumming from how good this felt.

Eunbi pauses with your cock throbbing less and less every second. You feel her lips pressing against your neck, then up to your own. She gives you a kiss on the lips, almost like a passionate thank-you gift—another one.

“I let you cum in me for a reason, Oppa,” she murmurs, quickly pressing her lips back onto yours, intentionally not letting you speak a word. However, you’ll throw that to the side for now when her soft lips are craving more.

——

Eunbi lies beside you, her fingers gently tracing the edges of the bandage on your arm. You run your hand through her hair with slow care, both of you half-dressed, bodies still warm from the closeness. The room is quiet, wrapped in a kind of peaceful intimacy.

“Did you enjoy it?” she asks out of the blue, her voice soft and curious. Her pointer finger begins to trace slow circles over the bandage on your arm where the wound rests beneath. It’s a gentle, soft gesture—part playful, part intimate—as if she’s feeling out your answer not just in words, but through your body.

“The sex?” you reply.

“Yeah,” she chuckles shyly, unable to look at you.

“I did, Eunbi.”

She’s glad you enjoyed it, and with a smile, she giggles, “I needed that after working so hard for these past few months. I feel so… relieved.”

“It just had to be with me, wasn’t it?” you chuckle and tease her as she looks down at the side of your stomach where your stitches were.

“I couldn’t help it, Oppa. You let me in your home despite the fame I have. I’m sure I wasn’t the only woman in this bed.”

“You don’t think any less of me for that… do you, Eunbi?” you ask quietly, your gaze steady but your tone carrying the weight of curiosity.

“I get it. And I don’t think I’m the only one who’d feel this way. You didn’t treat me like some celebrity when I walked in. You weren’t chasing after anything, not my fame, not my body. It didn’t feel like you had some hidden motive. You’re… a good guy. I respect that.”

You look at Eunbi with a genuine smile, meeting each other’s eyes, “thank you.”

It’s a simple compliment, bit enough to make her heart flutter. “If anything, I should be the one saying thank you,” she murmurs with a small smile.

“Then kiss me if you mean it,” you laugh as she playfully hits you on the chest gently.

“You’re annoying,” Eunbi chuckles.

“But I’m too hot to be annoying, right?”

She’ll ignore the question, only because she doesn’t want to admit it again. “Do you want me to stay over tonight? Actually, may I? If you’re not busy?”

“I have a debriefing tomorrow in the early afternoon. Will that work for you?”

“What’s that?”

“Just going over about what happened yesterday. What went wrong, what could have been prevented, you know, those stuff. It’s required.”

“Are you there as the Boss or a colleague?”

You smirk, and teasingly chuckle in her face with no intentions of telling her.

She rolls her eyes at you with a chuckle. “Okay, yeah, I’ll leave tomorrow afternoon too. Give me your phone number before I forget.”

[midniqhtt]

part two comfort reads II 4k celebration

₊˚⊹⋆ main masterlist ꨄ︎ part one list ₊˚⊹⋆

a/n: ran out of links and tagging blogs. thus part two!

hi loves! i never do anything for celebrating but i thought i could make a big list of all my favorite fics i’ve read over the past few months/years and continue rereading. i can never get enough of showing my appreciation for writers and all their hard work, and i want them to know i think of these fics/series at least once a day ♡︎

key- A: angst II F: fluff II S: smut II C: comfort

.𖥔 HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE .𖥔

𝑺𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑼𝑺 𝑩𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑲

ꨄ︎ tulips part two II @amiableness II A + F + S

After finding out Remus Lupin has found himself a girlfriend, a devastated Y/n L/n asks Sirius Black to help her get over him. Except Sirius has feelings for her.

ꨄ︎ if you love something II @mischievousmoony II A

Your boyfriend, Sirius Black, hasn’t been faithful and you can’t stand it anymore.

𝑱𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹

ꨄ︎ time warp II @astonishment II A + F

when the time-turner breaks, you find yourself at the start of 6th year once again. the only difference? it’s 1976. stuck in a time you shouldn’t even be alive in, you do your best to blend in, anxiously awaiting to see if dumbledore can help you get home. that all goes out the window when you catch the eye of a certain bespectacled boy. and the more time you spend with him, the harder it gets to walk away. but you have to…right?

ꨄ︎ why didn’t we work out II @/astonishment II A + F

James Potter had two girlfriends in seventh year at Hogwarts. Y/N Y/L/N, who he dated for five months; and Lily Evan’s, who he dated afterwards. When he’s dared to call on of his exes, guess who’s number he dials…

ꨄ︎ i can see you II @pretty-little-mind33 II A + C

James panics when he sees what his boggart is.

ꨄ︎ i’ve got plans sorry part two II @livinginshambles II A + C

James is whipped. He adores his girlfriend so much, to the point that it starts to bother his friends. His reaction to a confrontation about it with his friends is to completely pull away from you, always finding new excuses to avoid you, leaving you to try and approach him. When you overhear him trying to be cool under peer pressure and say that you're too clingy, you also start pulling away, using the same excuses.

𝑹𝑬𝑴𝑼𝑺 𝑳𝑼𝑷𝑰𝑵

ꨄ︎ a man with a plan II @ellecdc II A + F

Remus planned to never fall in love. Moony had other plans. [link is ch8]

𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑶𝑫𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑻

ꨄ︎ peonies II @/amiableness II A + F

Reader is devastated when Mattheo gets a girlfriend and asks Theo to help her get over him.

𝑺𝑬𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑨𝑵 𝑺𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾

ꨄ︎ the night shift pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 II @writing-intheundercroft II A + S + F

You're the lead healer in the St. Mungo's intensive care unit, and a painfully familiar face ends up in your ward.

𝑮𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑯 𝑾𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑳𝑬𝒀

ꨄ︎ illicit affairs II @festivalsofmargot II A + S

Garreth thinks back on his life with you, and it was far from perfect. But he’d relive every second if he had the chance.

.𖥔 STEVE HARRINGTON .𖥔

ꨄ︎ i’d knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss II @andvys II A + S

Steve was slipping through your fingers and you desperately held onto him not realizing that his heart wasn’t yours anymore. Dealing with the aftermath of your breakup turns out to be harder than you thought. Steve’s presence still lingers and while he keeps a hold of your heart, someone else sneaks their way into it too.

ꨄ︎ second chance II @astermath II A + F

steve decides to ask out the girl who he keeps seeing around hawkins with her nose in a book. he’s a little surprised when he gets brutally rejected, only to find out his “king steve” era is haunting him more than he expected. he attempts to make it up to you and show you he’s changed, even if it takes him a couple of tries.

ꨄ︎ hot for teacher II @handful0fteeth II S

you’re going on your first date with steve harrington, and hours before he’s due to pick you up your best friend gives you some rather unsavory information.

ꨄ︎ five tickets II @slashersteve II F

Steve couldn’t pass up a chance to be able to kiss you, even if there is a price.

ꨄ︎ for a good time call II @chestharrington II S + F

In the Summer of 1985, Steve's social standing is at an all time low. In an act of sheer, pathetic desperation, he calls a phone sex hotline. Little does he know, his dream girl from the hotline is just an escalator away.

ꨄ︎ christmas affairs II @maroon-cardigan II A + S + F

your christmas turns into a chaotic mess when your boss can’t fly back home and you end up stuck in New York City with him.

ꨄ︎ maybe this christmas time II @headkiss II F

working as an elf during the holidays (which he isn’t a fan of) is not how steve would choose to spend his time, neither is doing a bucket list of your creation. you end up changing his mind.

.𖥔 PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS .𖥔

𝑫𝑰𝑵 𝑫𝑱𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑵

ꨄ︎ best kept secret II @lincolndjarin II A + S + C + F

Married off to a prince on a planet that you hate? New husband doesn't know you, and doesn't want to know you? New husband gifts you a personal Mandalorian body guard as a wedding present? Mandalorian is a wiseass who won't leave you alone? Lucky you.

ꨄ︎ in a perfect world, you love me pt2 II @theidiotwhowritesthings II A + C

On the way to visit an old friend, you and Mando find trouble. Both of you are subjected to a drug that puts you in your perfect world. But, when you can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t, how do you know what to trust?

𝑱𝑶𝑬𝑳 𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑹

ꨄ︎ somewhere to run II @punkshort II A + S + C

You move to a small town in the middle of Texas to escape your past and start over. You don't expect to fall for the town's handsome sheriff.

ꨄ︎ i know who you are II @/punkshort II A + S + C

A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.

ꨄ︎ the fisherman’s wife II @joelmama II A + S + F

The free-spirited Reader is arranged to marry a divorced Fisherman named Joel Miller. And although she protested this at first, she soon wonders if maybe she could be happy with her new husband.

ꨄ︎ we bleed together II @bubbles-for-all-of-us II A

what if the last day of humanity was different? What if instead of loosing Sarah, Joel lost you - the mother of his two children and the person who had built him up to a better man.

𝑱𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑫𝑨𝑵𝑰𝑬𝑳𝑺

ꨄ︎ cupcake II deactivated blog II F

Jack Daniels, lead used car salesman at his dealership, has a crush on you, the pretty receptionist. It's too bad he can't get out of his own way. Luckily for him, you have patience and a soft spot for shy cowboys.

ꨄ︎ hot chocolate II @/punkshort II F + S

You lead a quiet, boring life in a podunk town, but when a certain secret agent stumbles into your world needing your help to catch a criminal at the local carnival, your quiet little life changes forever.

𝑱𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 𝑷𝑬𝑵𝑨

ꨄ︎ online love II @absurdthirst and @storiesofthefandomlovers II A + S + F

Coming home after Cali, Javi finds that his dad has moved into modern times. There's a computer in the house. Unsatisfied with his reputation proceeding him, he decides to go online to find out if he can be the man he wants to be. Except the one he connects with, you, has a very complicated past together.

.𖥔 MISCELLANEOUS .𖥔

𝑷𝑶𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑵

ꨄ︎ hard landings II deactivated blog II A + F

Everybody in the kriffin galaxy seems to know you...Except for Poe.

ꨄ︎ something forgotten II @bensolosbluesaber II A + F

Poe Dameron is the love of your life, but he can’t remember you. Still, Poe finds himself drawn to you and seeing flashes of a life he has forgotten.

ꨄ︎ nine part two II @foxilayde II S

Idiots in love. You’re the idiot, mainly. You happen to hear something quite salacious about your bestie. And oooh boy, are you awful at keeping your shit together.

𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑵 𝑾𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹

ꨄ︎ impetus II @wildwestdean II A + F

dean gets targeted by a witch while working a case, and she curses him to yearn for what he secretly loves the most. it seems to have no effect, until it's pointed out that he can't seem to stay away from you - but what happens when he tries to fight it?

ꨄ︎ friends after all part 34 II @angelkurenai II A + S

Dean Winchester. Mechanic. Neighbour. Best friend. Single father. And fake boyfriend? You babysit his daughter. You’ve known him for years and you’ve been really close. Everything will be put to test though when your sister's wedding approaches and he has the brilliant idea of pretending to be your boyfriend. Nobody would have ever thought of the result. Certainly not you.

𝑨𝑨𝑹𝑶𝑵 𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑪𝑯𝑵𝑬𝑹

ꨄ︎ sick of maybe II @luveline II A + C

You worry your boyfriend is ashamed of you. This is very much not the case. Or, 5 times Hotch hid your relationship (+1 time he didn’t).

ꨄ︎ three cents II @xneens II F

you butt dial your boss during a girls night … the girls night where you told them you’d fuck aaron hotchner for three cents.

𝑻𝑶𝑴𝑴𝒀 𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑹

ꨄ︎ wrong place, right time II @hauntedhowlett-writes II S

what if joel didn’t answer tommy’s call from jail? and what if the waitress he’d been defending that night bailed him out instead?

𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑯𝑼𝑹 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑮𝑨𝑵

ꨄ︎ fakin it II @hihomeghere II S

After a botched robbery, Arthur and you take refuge in a hotel, hiding from the O'Driscolls outside your door. When they do decide to search for you two, how will you throw them off your track?

[eggshell4bones]

ive been tagged twice now (that means i have to do it) (thank you for the tags 🙏)

currently reading: nothing BUT im gonna start reading again soon i have time

last song: (i think) supercell - king gizzard and the lizard wizard

last film: BILL AND TEDS EXCELLENT ADVENTURE

last series: probably I'm Alan Partridge

sweet/savoury/salty: probs sweet

tea or coffee: tea 💪💪

working on: trying to get better at guitar and trying to get through botw (so productive)

tagging nobody as always sorry (join if you want)

TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU WANT TO GET TO KNOW MORE

tried to reblog the original post but it was gone so here we are i guess. thanks for tagging me leigh!!!!! @poemeater <3 i love you to pluto and back come kiss me now

currently reading: nothing actually. walk of shame

last song: man in the mirror — michael jackson

last film: captain america brave new world

last series: new girl season 3, mha season 2 (rewatch), wbk s2

sweet/savory/salty?: savory + salty!!! but i would give up both kidneys for some cinnamon sugar pretzels rn

tea or coffee: tea always

working on: packing to move states in july, weeding through some rough friendships that no longer serve me, picking up guitar again, and. well. kinktober ‘25

no pressure tags 🤍 @carminechrollo @admiringlove @madaqueue @cheralith @bouqette @mochiqa @mosskissed @storiesoflilies @toadba @tokeposts @hiraethwrote sorry if you’ve been tagged i tried to choose people i haven’t tagged in awhile/at all hehe

[harrywavycurly]

Worth The Fight: Not Going Anywhere

Masterlist: Here

CW: Minor language, smut, baby stuff, one moment of slight panic (Harry is always panicked about something isn’t he?) and a lot of fluff!

*smut happens in the first section if you don’t wanna read it you’ll know when it starts and then you can skip to the next bit and won’t miss anything*

A/N: Here it is, the last update for this series and lord have mercy what a ride it has been! Thank y’all for letting me take you on this journey with these two it has been an emotional rollercoaster but look how far they’ve come! I hope y’all enjoy and don’t worry this isn’t the last you’ll see of this little gang🥹✨

Word Count: 8K

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes @mads3502 @tpwkdpr @unfuckwitablenarry @itscoucouharry @latedirectionerera @ell0ra-br3kk3r @cumuluscranium @donutsandpalmtrees @silastylesswift @prettygurl-2009 @blueleonor @daphnesutton @angeldavis777 @harryssunflower17 @blckburd @tinawritesstuff @inlikea-coolway @mothersversiononly

Summary: Harry is sure Paris doesn’t think he’s a good dad, you two take the twins out for a walk and Niall and Ethan stop by for a visit✨

Harry can feel eyes on him the moment he steps into the nursery, but luckily he doesn’t need to panic because he knows exactly who it is that’s staring him down as he walks over to Nora’s crib to make sure she’s still asleep. He hears the faint thump of four paws hitting the carpet followed by a very distinct jingle of the bell on his collar and he knows he has only a few seconds before an orange ball of fur with ridiculously big green eyes is pawing at his ankle, his silent warning to back away before he is forced to use more aggressive tactics such as biting. Harry doesn’t know when Paris named himself the twins guardian but he takes his job extremely seriously especially while they are asleep, he stays perched on the rocking chair in the corner of their nursery and at every noise and weird sound they make he does a lap around their crib and if he thinks the situation calls for it he will rush off to whatever room you’re in and meow until you get the hint and follow him.

Normally Harry doesn’t mind, he actually likes knowing Paris is in there with the twins who have managed to flip his entire world upside down in the short three months since they were born. He knows Paris is a gentle soul but appreciates that he is willing to get violent if the moment calls for it and often times the moment only seems to call for it whenever Harry is involved. His ankles have gotten more bites over the last three months than they ever did when he was just simply trying to win you over and it has him convinced Paris doesn’t think he’s fit to be a dad and sometimes it bugs him to the extent he whines about it to you during your few hours of alone time at night before one of the twins wakes up for something.

“Relax mate m’just checking on things then I’ll be out of your hair.” Harry whispers to the orange cat who is right under his feet as he moves to take a quick look into Edward’s crib.

“Paris honey let daddy have a minute okay?” Your voice coming from the doorway makes Harry jump a bit causing you to place a hand over your mouth to stifle your laugh. “Come on,” Harry looks down at Paris who looks over at you with a tilted head. “Let’s go snuggle for a bit how’s that sound?” The orange cat quickly walks over to the door and rubs his head against your ankles making you smile as you bend down and pick him up.

“Thank you love.” Harry says with a smile as he watches the two of you head towards the bedroom, he already begins to prepare himself for having to fight the orange cat off of you so he can get some cuddles in himself but that’s a struggle for future Harry because right now he just wants to soak in this moment of peaceful bliss in the room with his two little bundles of pure joy and happiness as they drift deeper into dreamland.

“Sweet dreams Edward.” He whispers as he leans over and places a featherlight light kiss to the top of his head. “Daddy loves you.” He mumbles as he stands up, a little grin works its way across Harry’s face as he watches his son move the slightest bit while letting out a soft little whimper. After a few moments of staring at the little boy who is all comfy and warm in his Pooh Bear pajamas he moves over to Nora’s crib.

“I love you.” He says softly as he reaches over and runs a hand over her tummy, knowing better than to lean in and get too close because unlike her brother who can sleep through anything, Nora can always sense when one of her parents are near and will wake up with a sad little cry just to get someone to pick her up and usually it’s Harry because he can’t stand hearing her sound so upset. “Sweet dreams.” He whispers before turning and heading for the door, making sure the monitor is on and the sound machine is set to start in a few minutes and will hopefully help the two of them stay asleep.

“And our paper houses reach the stars…” Harry pauses in the doorway of the bedroom as the very familiar sound of Niall’s voice softly filters through the small speaker of your phone. He stands there and leans against the doorframe as he watches you fold the twin’s laundry while Paris is curled up near Harry’s pillow at the top of the bed, still shocked at how many outfits his two little humans go through in a single day. As you sway to the music he can’t help but smile as his eyes roam over your frame, you look so soft in your t shirt and sleep shorts he really can’t be bothered to keep his hands off you any longer.

“Paris look away I’m about to kiss on your mom.” You let out a chuckle as Harry’s arms snake around your middle from behind, pulling your back flush against his chest while he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. The sudden noise makes Paris look up and upon seeing Harry in the bedroom he is quick to leap from the bed and make his way out of the room. “He’s gonna go check on them isn’t he? I know he just thinks I’m the worst dad on the planet and-”

“Harry he doesn’t think you’re a bad dad he is just protective that’s all. How are they?” You ask cutting off his rant as you finish folding one of Nora’s onesies, tossing it into the hamper with the other folded clothes that you’ll put away later.

“Sound asleep. Nora didn’t even move when I told her goodnight.” He tells you after placing a soft kiss to the side of your neck and resting his chin on top of your shoulder.

“And how much did that hurt your feelings? I know you secretly love it when she cries for you.” Your tone is only partially teasing and Harry doesn’t need to be looking at your face to know you’re smiling, he can hear it in your voice.

“I’ll recover but it was a bit devastating I mean even Ed let out one of those sigh coo things he does but Nora? It was like I wasn’t even there and that’s just-odd.” He explains as you turn around in his hold, his mouth turns downward into a small little pout as you reach up and cup his face with your hands.

“Poor daddy.” You tease as you get on your tiptoes and place a quick kiss to his lips.

“Poor daddy indeed.” He mumbles as you pull away making you roll your eyes as his hands grab onto your hips.

“I’ll let you get her when she wakes up in a few hours how about that? You can get all the Nora and daddy time you want.”

“Oh and let you and Ed gossip about me? I think not.”

“We don’t gossip about you we just discuss the events of the day that’s all.”

“And these events always have to do with me and how I’m dressed or how many bottles I’ve dropped.”

“I mean-four in one day is a bit extreme and you used to be worried I was the clumsy one.” He rolls his eyes as he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead.

“You may not be the clumsy one but I still worry about you even when you’re just down the hall.” He admits making you fight the urge to smile as his lips place a soft kiss to the tip of your nose while your arms wrap around his neck. “We have what? At least an hour until one of them wakes up?” He mumbles between kisses down your jaw making you let out a giggle.

“Something like that yeah.” You answer as one of Harry’s hands moves to the back of your neck so he can gently lay you down on the bed, you let out a soft laugh as he hovers over you.

“Hi Cranky.” He says with a grin as he stares into your eyes, you can’t help but smile back at him as you run a hand through his hair.

“Hi Mr. Popular.” Harry lets out a breathy laugh as he leans in and presses his lips against yours for a kiss that’s full of nothing but love. Your mouth move against his slowly as his tongue teasingly swipes across your bottom lip before it slips past your parted lips. Your hands move to slide under the soft material of his shirt, roaming over the muscles of his back and gliding over his sides so you can feel the hard lines and dips of his toned stomach.

“Baby,” you pause your movements as Harry reluctantly pulls his mouth away from yours and looks down at you with lust filled eyes. “Can we please change the music?” You bite your bottom lip to hold back a laugh as Harry turns his head and moves to grab your phone that’s still playing Niall’s Flicker album on shuffle.

“You don’t find his voice sexy?” You ignore the glare Harry sends you as he turns the music off before tossing the phone over to his side of the bed.

“I do but I’d really prefer to just hear yours right now-saying my name.” And before you can respond with a snippy remark Harry’s lips are on your neck nipping at the spot below your ear earning him a soft moan as his hand grabs at the soft flesh of your thigh so he can gently bend your leg at the knee placing your foot flat against the soft comforter you have on the bed. “Tell me if it’s too much okay?” You just give him a nod when he pulls back just enough so he can get a good look at your face.

“You have to actually do something before I can tell you if it’s too-” yours words get stuck in your throat as Harry rolls his hips letting you get a feeling of just how hard he is under his shorts.

“Always so impatient.” He teases as his hand finds the waistband of your shorts but before he can slip his hand underneath the soft material you give his shoulders a soft push. “You want on top?”

“Yes it’s better that way or-you can be behind me-oh or we can be on our sides? What do you want?” Harry lets out a soft chuckle as he stares down at you with a silly looking grin on his face.

“Baby I just want you.” He answers before leaning down to place a kiss to your lips. “In whatever way is most comfortable for you.” He explains as his hand rests on the waistband of your shorts, his thumb rubbing circles on your soft skin of your hip.

“God you would say something like that right now-all sweet and nice.”

“Sorry want me to dirty it up a bit? Tell you I want you bent over and ass up?”

“You’re so annoying.” Harry doesn’t miss the smile that teases the corners of your mouth as your hands run up and down his arms.

“Just tell me what you want.” You rub your lips together and Harry can tell your thinking about what would be best and he finds himself leaning down to place a kiss to your cheek, not wanting you to get too lost in your thoughts. “I just want you to be comfortable.” He tells you before placing a kiss to your other cheek.

“Let’s-let’s try it this way and if it’s too much I’ll get on top.” You tell him as your hands slide down his back, dipping under his shorts making him let out a groan as his head ducks down to the crook of your neck as he helps you shimmy his shorts down.

“Gotta help me get these off love.” He mumbles against the sensitive skin of your neck as he tugs at your shorts, you lift your hips and move your leg so you can quickly slide your shorts down your legs until you can kick them off to the floor. “You swear you’ll tell me if it’s-oh fuck.” Your hand wrapping around Harry’s hard shaft has him letting out a choked moan, you give him a few slow strokes as you hitch one of your legs over Harry’s hip pulling him closer.

“You know I love you but please stop talking and fuck me already.” Your words have Harry letting out a small groan as you give him a few more strokes with your hand.

“Love it when you’re bossy.” His voice is deep and filled with need as you let out a gasp when you feel him tease your entrance with the tip of his cock before slowly pushing himself in. “I love you too by the way.” You let out a muffled laugh as his mouth finds yours, kissing you with an intense hunger as he continues to slowly push his thick shaft inside your wetness.

Your hands tangle into his hair as he licks into your mouth, his tongue sliding over yours as you move your lips against his. His grip on your hip tightens as you give his hair a gentle tug as you feel the familiar ache that comes before the soothing pleasure of Harry being fully tucked up inside you, the overwhelming sense of fullness that only he can give you. His lips travel down your jaw as he gives you a gentle thrust of his hips making a moan falls from your lips.

“That’s-yeah that’s good-really good.” Harry smiles against your jaw as his hips find a deliciously steady pace that has your hands griping his shoulders, it’s not nearly as rough and hard as he knows you want because even though you’re about twelve weeks out form delivering the twins you still get some soreness and discomfort if he goes too hard.

“Fuck baby m’not gonna last if you-you keep clenching me like that.” He groans as your walls clench around his length as your nails dig into the top of his shoulders while your hips rise to meet his thrusts.

“Feels so good.” Your voice is strained as you close your eyes and Harry knows you’re close already so he lets his hand slip between your two bodies until his thumb is pressing against your clit making your hips jerk. “Oh god.” Your deep moan has Harry closing his eyes and trying to compose himself so he doesn’t burst inside you right then and there, not that you’d mind because you like knowing you make I’m lose control when normally he doesn’t even think about his own release until you’ve made a mess all over him at least once.

“Shit shit-oh fuck m’gonna come-fuck baby you feel so good.” His words are rushed and muffled against the warm skin of your neck as his thrusts get sloppy and then you feel it, the warmth of his release spilling into you. With a deep moan his thumbs adds a little more pressure to your clit as he rubs tight circles to it and that’s what sends you toppling over the edge into your own pool of bliss.

“Oh fuck-I missed feeling you wrapped around me like this-shit baby you’re so tight feels so good.” He grunts as he pulls out and with a single thrust of his hips pushes all the way back in letting the tip of his cock hit the spot that has you crying out in pleasure nearly making him have to place a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound so it doesn’t wake up your sleeping babies in the next room.

“Oh yes just like that- oh Harry-Harry oh god.” His name falling from your lips has him groaning as he slowly moves his hips and works you through your release, your walls pulsing and clenching around his shaft as he coats your warm walls with his load.

“God you’re amazing-fucking love you so much.” He pants as he moves his thumb from your clit so he can grab your hip as he pulls his head back so he can look down at your flushed face, his hips going still so the two of you can catch your breath for a moment.

“I love you too.” You say breathlessly making him grin as your hands cup his face. “I’d say that was our best time yet? Only took what? Twenty minutes?” Harry playfully rolls his eyes as you pull him down for a quick kiss.

“Would’ve last longer if someone wasn’t so eager.” He teases after pulling away, you just shrug as he rolls over so he’s laying on his back next to you. “Practically had me in a vice grip the moment I slipped in so you’re actually lucky I lasted as long as I did because-”

“God you really are such a narcissist-telling me how lucky I am that you lasted as long as you did.” Harry lets out a huff as you swat his chest with the back of your hand before moving to sit up. “I think our bodies are just used to working under time constraints so we just get to the good bits quicker.” You explain making him laugh as he tucks his arms under his head while you move so you’re straddling his thighs.

“Is that so?” He asks with a quirked brow as your hands rest on his lower stomach, your thumbs running over the ink on his hips poking out under the hem of his t shirt. “Did my little librarian read that somewhere?”

“No but you want to know what I did read somewhere?”

“What?”

“That whoever finishes first is supposed to put the laundry away.” Harry can’t even get a word out before you lean down and place a kiss to his lips. “So I’ll just go take a shower while you do that.” You add as you pull away and move off of him, his hands instinctively reach out for you as a pout forms on his face.

“Oh now you’re just being mean.” You give him a shrug as you bend down to grab your shorts off the floor on your way to the bathroom. “We can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve finished first so I don’t-”

“Harry just put the laundry away and join me in the shower okay?” His eyes go wide as you look at him over your shoulder, a smirk on your lips and when you shoot him a playful wink he all but falls off the bed trying to stand up and quickly grab the twin’s clothes to begin putting them away.

“Don’t hog all the hot water.”

“Then don’t take too long.”

“Be done before you know it.”

“Oh-trust me I know how quickly you work.” That has Harry sending you a glare that makes you laugh as you turn around from where you were standing in the doorway of the bathroom, you hear him mumble something about you being mean but you ignore it and go start getting the shower ready.

You quirk a brow as you watch Harry adjust one of the straps on the infant carrier he has attached to his chest, not really sure if you fully trust the device to hold your little girl who is also currently watching her dad struggle to secure the contraption with wide eyes and drool dribbling down her chin from her spot in her bouncer. Harry lets out a satisfied huff as he places his hands on his hips before turning to face you and the baby at your feet with a proud grin on his face as if he just discovered the meaning of life, but in reality he just managed to successfully get an infant carrier on without asking for your help. You glance down at Nora who is watching her daddy with amusement written all over her little face as he makes a silly face at her but before he can reach down and grab her out of her bouncer you hold a hand up.

“We should test it with something first before we just put her in it.” Harry pauses at your words, looking up at you from where he’s crouched down in front of the happy baby.

“Test it? With what?” He questions as he stands up with a furrowed brow. You look around the living room for anything that could even remotely pass as the same size or weight as Nora or Edward but then Harry is rushing into the kitchen and before you can even ask what he’s doing he is back with a watermelon in his hands.

“This isn’t dirty dancing Harry I don’t need you to carry a watermelon.” You tease making Harry just let out a chuckle as he carefully places the melon into the carrier where one of the twins will eventually go.

“Feels pretty secure.” He informs you as he walks around with the melon strapped to his chest. You step towards him and reach out to feel how tight the restraints are, Harry smiles when you give it a small nod of approval.

“Okay now the tough question,” you take a step backwards and look down at Nora and then over at Edward who is asleep in his bouncer next to his sister. “Ed or Nora Bear?” Harry rubs his lips together as he looks between the two babies while unclipping the melon from his chest.

“Uh well Ed is asleep so I say he goes in the stroller and Nora Bear can come with me for a bit and then when she falls asleep we can switch?”

“A man with a plan.” You say with a smile as you walk over to him. “I like it.” Harry laughs as he leans down and places a kiss to your lips before rushing off to put the melon back in the kitchen while you grab the stroller from the front entryway.

A few minutes, a minor hiccup while putting Nora in the infant carrier that was due to her grabbing hold of Harry’s chain that has his cross pendant on it and one masterfully coordinated transfer of a sleeping Edward from the bouncer to the infant carrier that is clipped onto the stroller later and the four of you are down the hallway standing in front of the elevator. You smile at Nora who is happily strapped to Harry’s chest and lightly babbling to herself as you adjust the hat on his head while waiting for the elevator all while Edward is peacefully sleeping.

“Love the hat Harry it’s very-honest.” He gives you a look that lets you know he has no clue what his hat says, having just grabbed one off the coat rack by the front door.

“Honest? Oh god what’s it say?” He asks only slightly worried as the soft ding of the elevator announces its arrival before the doors slide open.

“It says unemployed and beautiful.” You answer as you push the stroller into the small space while Harry lets out an annoyed groan while shaking his head as he steps inside.

“Of course that’s what it says-naturally I pick the silliest hat you have in your collection to wear on our first little family stroll through the neighborhood.” You reach over and give his back a soothing rub as he lets out a sarcastic sounding chuckle after pressing the button for the lobby.

“Oh trust me there’s sillier ones you could’ve picked but this one is at least letting everyone know where you’re at job wise and obviously we all know how pretty you are.” You reassure him with a lightly teasing tone making him shoot you a playful glare before turning his attention to Nora who is sucking on her hand.

“Your mommy is just so funny isn’t she? Always having a laugh at daddy’s expense.”

“Can’t help it-it’s just so easy.” You tell him with a casual shrug as you look down at Edward who is still asleep. A few moments later the doors open up and Harry lets you out first, following close behind you with a hand on your lower back.

“Now remember the rules?” He asks you as the two of you stand in front of the doors that lead out into the sidewalk in front of the apartment complex. You just nod and slide your sunglasses on, he does the same before looking over at you as if he’s waiting on a verbal conformation.

“Don’t talk to strangers and always stay close.” You answer with a smile but Harry lets out a sigh as he turns so he’s fully facing you, Nora securely strapped to his chest and everything.

“Baby I’m being serious we haven’t-this is our first time out with them like this so I just want to be safe.” You can hear the hint of panic in his voice so you reach over and place a hand on his cheek.

“It’s going to be fine.” He leans into your touch letting the warmth of your hand calm his nerves down a bit before he turns his head and places a kiss to your palm. “Now let’s get this show on the road-momma needs some coffee.” And with that Harry is letting out a laugh as he reaches to open the door and hold it open for you to push the stroller through officially starting the first ‘Styles family walk’.

You let out a sigh of content as you place your iced coffee in the cup holder of the stroller, having walked to the cafe down the street that Harry once ventured to on his own during the early months of your pregnancy to get you a peace offering in the form of a donut. Naturally they recognized him, his short sleeved shirt letting his most noticeable tattoos be on display but to his surprise they didn’t say anything minus the polite hello and a sweet compliment about how adorable the twins are after taking his order. You could feel his anxiety spike when he noticed their wide eyes but when they just handed him his drinks with nothing more than a smile he let out the smallest sigh of relief.

“How’s she doing? Getting sleepy?” You ask Harry as he takes his usual place at your side with one hand loosely placed on the top of your shoulder while his other one holds his green juice that he knows you’re probably going to end up drinking the majority of.

“She’s about two big yawns away from passing out.” He informs you with a smile as he looks down at Nora who trying to nuzzle her face into the plush side of the carrier.

“Should we switch before she falls asleep then?” You question as your eyes glance down at Edward who has only been awake for a few minutes thanks to the bell on the door of the cafe, his eyes wide and looking around at the little black and white music note toys hanging from his carrier.

“That’s a good idea.” You smile at your little boy as Harry places his green juice in the cup holder opposite of yours as the two of you roll to a stop near a bench on the sidewalk. “Hello my love did you have fun walking with daddy? Gonna take a little nap now with mommy while I let brother have a turn? Yeah? Sound good?” You feel your heart turn to mush as Harry uses his softest voice while talking to Nora as he begins to unclip her from his chest. You clap your hands before opening your arms up to take her from him making her kick and let out a small excited noise causing you to grin as Harry hands her to you.

“Hi my little Nora Bear. Ready for a little nap?” Harry smiles as you bounce her a bit while he reaches into the stroller for Edward. “Oh my goodness who is that? Is that brother? What’s he doing hmm?” You hold Nora so she can see Edward who lets out a small excited noise once he sees his sister and hears your voice making Harry laugh.

“Gotta be still for a moment son or it’s gonna be all wonky and-”

“Harry.” Your voice has him instantly freezing, holding Edward close to his chest while you stand there with a half asleep Nora in your arms. “I think-I think someone is behind us.” Your voice is low but holds a seriousness that has Harry on edge because while you’re used to being photographed when out and about with Harry this is the first time it’s happened since the twins have been born seeing as this is your first time taking them out in public that’s not just a quick trip over to Anne’s or Harry’s house that usually is just them being seen getting in and out of the car in their carriers with their faces never visible.

“I’ll handle it.” You just nod and go back to placing Nora in the stroller, pulling the visor down a bit more to help block her face from the sun and any prying eyes that might want to take a chance at snapping her photo. “Hold him for a moment please sweetheart.” You don’t hesitate to grab Edward from Harry’s arms, smiling down at the little boy who is just happy to be out of the stroller and looking around.

“Hi sweet boy did you have a nice nap?” You ask as you lean down and rub your nose against him making a small little squeal leave his body as he tries to grab onto your face when you pull away. Harry turns and takes a few steps so he is blocking the view of your back from the two men that are very obviously trying to get a few photos of the four of you, and Harry understands this is their job he isn’t mad at them, annoyed yes but not mad. He really just wants to establish some boundaries before the small group of two becomes a gathering of five or six and things get a bit more hectic and possibly dangerous.

“Do you mind not getting too close? Twins have a bit of stranger danger.” He asks politely and the two men just nod and smile as they take a few steps backward. “Thanks I appreciate it.”

“Congratulations Harry.”

“Beautiful family you’ve got.”

“Thank you-thanks a lot.” You hold back a little chuckle as he awkwardly rubs his lips together and gives the two men a small nod before turning around.

“Did you hear that Eds? Your daddy has a beautiful family.” Harry rolls his eyes under his sunglasses as he holds his arms out so you can help him strap the baby into the carrier.

“It’s true though.” He says with a smile as he adjusts the straps a bit after getting Edward situated. “I do have a beautiful family.” He adds as he leans over and places a kiss to your temple, you smile as you hear the sound of camera clicks going off behind you. “I love you cranky.” You let out a little giggle at your nickname as Harry reaches over for his green juice.

“I love you too Harry.” He doesn’t even blink or make a face as you take the cup from his hands before he can even bring it up to his lips. He just watches you in amusement as you take a sip and make a face that has your nose scrunching up a bit. “You asked for carrots in your juice on purpose.” You accuse him as you hand him his cup, Harry just lets out a scoff but the corners of his mouth twitch the smallest bit letting you know he is hiding a smirk.

“Now baby why would I do that? I know how you feel about carrots in your juice.”

“You’re so annoying.” He just laughs as the two of you begin walking again, his free hand rubbing your lower back while you push the stroller that now holds a sleeping Nora.

“You’re full of shit he doesn’t look anything like you.” You rub your lips together to hide your amused grin as you watch Harry send Niall who is currently holding Edward on the couch, a glare from his spot on the loveseat.

“You having a laugh mate? He has blue eyes and-”

“Most babies are born with blue eyes you twat.”

“He has brown hair and blue eyes Harry he’s practically my twin.”

“You have lost your fucking mind if you think my son is your twin.” You let out a chuckle as you look down at Nora who is looking right at you with drool dribbling down her chin as she smiles at the sound of her daddy’s voice.

“Harry m’gonna have to ask you to watch your language in front of my little one he doesn’t need-”

“That’s it.” You let Nora grab onto your finger as you watch Harry shoot up from his seat and reach his arms across the coffee table. “Give me my son.” He snaps making Niall let out a full on belly laugh that causes Edward to make a noise of delight at the chaos going on around him.

“M’not giving him to you Harry it’s my day for cuddles you prick.” Niall argues as he looks away from Harry and down to Edward who is looking at him with his big blue eyes.

“Baby tell Niall he can’t call Edward his son anymore.” You just roll your eyes as Harry turns his head to look at you over his shoulder, as you take a seat on the edge of the armrest of the loveseat he was sitting in just a few moments ago.

“As I’ve said before-I’m not getting in the middle of this.” You tell him with a laugh as you adjust Nora in your arms, he gives you a pleading look when you finally glance up to meet his stare.

“Hello peasants I have come to see my babies.” Your eyes look away from Harry and over to your entryway as Ethan walks through the front door with a bright grin on his face as he slides his shoes off.

“I would like both of you to understand something.” Harry says with a glare aimed at Ethan as he walks past the couch and into the kitchen so he can wash his hands. “These babies aren’t yours.” He states with his hands on his hips once he realizes Niall really isn’t going to hand Edward over to him.

“Someone has their Gucci in a twist.” Ethan mumbles with a roll of his eyes as he walks into the living room with his hands out ready to take Nora from you. “What’s the old man’s deal Nora Bear?” He asks her as he carefully scoops her from you after placing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Old man?”

“Good lord Harry yer in a mood and honestly we don’t need this kinda energy right now.” Harry’s eyes go wide as he watches Niall stand up and tuck Edward close to his chest. “Come on Ethan let’s take our babies to the nursery for some peace and quiet.” You cover your mouth with your hand as Niall heads down the hall to the nursery with Ethan in tow.

“I see where Paris gets his attitude from.” Ethan whispers to Nora making Niall laugh as the two of them walk into the twin’s nursery.

“I-I can’t believe we are friends with them.” Harry says with a huff as he slowly plops back down into the loveseat.

“They just love their babies that’s all.”

“They aren’t their babies.”

“I mean maybe they aren’t their fathers but they are a big part of their lives so in a sense yes Harry-our kids are their kids.” Harry lets out a sigh as you slide down the armrest so you’re sitting in his lap with your legs laying over the armrest on the other side of the loveseat, his arms wrap around your middle as you place a hand on his cheek.

“What do you mean maybe they aren’t the father? I know for a fact you’ve never been with Niall but-”

“Harry.” Your tone has him snapping his mouth shut and his cheeks turning pink as he realizes just how silly he sounds. “You’re the only baby daddy I have and the only one I plan on ever having.”

“But more babies though right? And also can you just call me your boyfriend? I don’t like-”

“I will call you whatever you want if it makes you stop being so whiney.”

“Okay how does husband sound? That work for you?” Harry feels your body stiffen as you stare at him with a confused look on your face. “I’m not proposing-at least not right now I do plan on-”

“You-you really want to marry me?” Your voice is low and full of surprise as your hand falls from Harry’s cheek down to the side of his neck. The smile he gives you has your heart feeling as if it’s melting as his hold around your middle tightens.

“Oh cranky you really don’t get it do you?” You just continue to stare at him making him let out a little chuckle. “I want to do everything with you-the family vacations and the silly little photo shoots and the yearly Christmas cards that you’ll undoubtably make us all wear matching outfits for and yes I really do want to marry you if that’s something you’re into and if not then that’s fine just know I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

“You love the silly photo shoots.” You mumble as you feel your eyes begin to sting with the unshed tears that you’re trying so hard to keep from falling down your face.

“Yeah. I do.” He says with a smile as one of his hands comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear that managed to slip over your lash line and slide down your face.

“What if you change your mind? What if all this becomes too much and-”

“I won’t change my mind because you and those two tiny little humans we managed to make together are my whole world I can’t-I can’t imagine living without the three of you in my life so please believe me when I tell you I’m not going anywhere.”

“I believe you. I’m not going anywhere either.” Your voice is watery but Harry hears you loud and clear making him let out a small sigh of relief that he feels like he’s been holding in for months now, not being able to stop himself from constantly wondering what your future looks like and if he’s in it or not.

“Good.”

“We can discuss the marriage thing later.”

“What about the more babies thing? Can we discuss that?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you making you let out a laugh as he leans down and kisses your cheek. “Styles party of six just sounds good doesn’t it?”

“Is that including Paris because if so then sure I’ll give you one more baby in about two years.”

“Knowing us you’ll end up with triplets.” Harry lets out a groan as you give his stomach a harsh smack at the mention of triplets.

“Why would you put that into the universe Harry? I mean seriously?”

“Sorry sorry you’ll only have one baby at a time now-how’s that sound?”

“God you’re already talking about knocking her up again? Jesus Harry let the girl’s body have some rest.” Niall says as he walks into the living room with Nora now tucked close to his chest. You let out a quiet snicker as you wipe at your eyes while Harry just shoots his bestfriend the bird as he takes a seat on the couch.

“He asked me to marry him as well can you believe that?” Harry feels his face get hot as you casually let the words slip out of your mouth while getting comfortable in his lap. Niall lets out a fake gasp just as Ethan makes his way into the living room holding little Edward.

“What’s with all the gasping? It sounds like an episode of Rue Paul’s Drag Race in here.”

“Harry asked her to marry him and asked to let him get her knocked up a few more times.”

“What? We-we were gone for less than ten minutes? You really are quick huh?” Ethan says with a playful wink sent in your direction that has Harry staring at you confused but as you struggle to hold back a laugh while trying to wiggle out of his hold it all clicks for him and his eyes go wide.

“You-you told him?” He asks only mildly shocked because he knows you tell Ethan everything so of course you let him know certain things that happen between you and Harry in the bedroom, including the few times he’s managed to beat you to the finish line so to speak. You just ignore him as you try to stand up after swinging your legs over and placing your feet on the floor but Harry isn’t having it as his arms snake around your waist pulling your back flush against his chest.

“Told him what?” Niall asks as Ethan takes a seat next to him on the couch. “Why’s it Ethan always gets to know the juicy bits before me?”

“Because I live across the hall.” Ethan answers with a shrug as he looks down at Edward who is perfectly content in his uncle’s arms. “But apparently Harry has been-”

“Baby make him stop.” Harry whines as he hides his face in the crook of your neck making you giggle while Niall just rolls his eyes at his friend’s dramatics. “If you love me at all you’ll-”

“Oi! Don’t go bein a baby H let the man tell the gossip so I can share it with Amelia tonight over dinner.” Harry lets out a groan as his hold on you tightens while Ethan just turns to look at Niall.

“Harry puts the quick in quickie if you catch my drift.”

“He puts the what in-oh oh wow really? You a selfish lover now Styles?”

“Oh for fuck sake I’m not having this conversation with the two of you.” Harry snaps as he lifts his head and sends the two men on the sofa a glare as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“It’s perfectly healthy to discuss your sex life amongst friends Harry don’t be embarrassed.” You give Harry’s knee a pat as Ethan tries his best to reassure him but before anyone can respond Nora lets out a tiny whimper that has Niall’s eyes softening as he stares at the little girl in his arms.

“That’s my queue.” You smile as Harry’s arms drop from around your waist so you can stand up allowing him to get up from his seat and reach his arms out over the coffee table. “She’s due for some daddy time while she gets a bottle.” Harry explains as Niall stands up, leaning down to give the little girl’s head a kiss before handing her over to Harry.

“She just got some daddy time but it’s fine I’ll let you feed her.” Harry narrows his eyes at his bestfriend who just breaks out into a fit of laughter as he reaches over and gives Harry’s shoulder a pat. “Lighten up Harry m’just messin with you besides we all know Nora is the spitting image of her mom.”

“It’s true sweetheart she looks exactly like you.” Harry confirms with a smile as he looks at you over his shoulder. “Come on lovey let’s go get some lunch.” He whispers to Nora as he leans down and kisses her nose making a little tiny coo escape her causing Niall and Ethan to make awe sounds while Harry takes a few steps towards the kitchen.

“I still think Ed looks like Zayn.”

“For Christ sake don’t get him goin on the Zayn thing.” Niall mumbles as Harry walks into the kitchen to get Nora’s bottle ready, luckily not hearing Ethan’s little teasing comment.

“You two are horrible.” You tell them as you point at them both with as stern of a look you can muster on your face. “Edward looks just like Harry and you both know it.” You add as you place a hand on your hip, Niall just shrugs while Ethan rolls his eyes.

“Well duh-of course he looks like Harry it’s just fun to mess with him that’s all.” Ethan argues as his eyes land on the little boy in his arms that without a doubt belongs to the green eyed brunette in the kitchen.

“Well stop before he starts talking about of his kids look like him or not with his therapist.”

“Fine.” Ethan answers with a huff.

“Niall?” You quirk a brow at him making him let out a sigh.

“Fine yeah no more he’s not the daddy jokes.”

“Thank you.” You say with a smile as you walk around the back of the couch and look over Ethan’s shoulder letting Edward get a decent view of you causing his face to light up. “Hi baby-you enjoying your uncle time?” You ask in a sugary sweet voice that has his little feet moving causing Ethan and Niall to chuckle at how excited he is hearing your voice. “Daddy went to go get your lunch okay? Just a few more minutes my sweet boy.”

“He’s so obsessed with you.” Niall jokes as Edward makes happy noises as you reach over and give the tip of his nose a little boop.

“Oh yeah proper momma’s boy that one is.” Harry says as he walks back into the living room with two bottles in one hand while holding Nora tight to his chest with his other one.

“Takes one to know one.” You tease making him laugh as you take one of the bottles from him and hand it to Ethan so he can start feeding the happy little boy in his arms.

“Speaking of momma’s boys where is-” Before Ethan can get the rest of his sentence out Paris walks into the living room, stoping at the entrance and looking around and when his eyes lock on Harry who is sitting down in the loveseat with Nora to start feeding her he automatically begins walking over to him.

“He’s going to make sure I feed her properly.” Harry huffs as Paris gracefully leaps up onto the armrest of the couch. “Hi Paris before you even get to meowing at me- m’supporting her head don’t worry.” He tells the orange cat as he perches on the armrest so he can face Harry and look down at Nora who is contently sucking on the bottle in her mouth.

As you look around the living room you can’t help but smile as you watch Edward begin to happily drink his bottle while Ethan and Niall talk to him, you glance over at Harry who is smiling down at Nora while she drinks and Paris supervises and your smile turns into a full blown grin. You feel incredibly full of love for everyone in the room and you know the two little babies currently getting fed lunch are so adored by the people surrounding them it makes you wonder what it would’ve been like if you never gave Harry a chance to be in your life as more than just the father of your children. You imagine your life would look a bit different but before you can begin to slip into the never ending pool of ‘what ifs’ you look up just as Harry looks over at you with a smile and eyes that hold nothing but love in them and you know you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be and that all the tears, petty arguments, emotional rants and fights really were worth it.

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Seven) (18+) / SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 7.3k / navigation / inbox / summer of series

A/N: a second spring fling update in 2 weeks??? and a long one???? we're so back, baby. this one's juicyyy i hope you like it >:) <3 day two is finished! thank you for sticking around and being patient with me, and I hope you enjoy :) <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You hadn’t exactly tuckered yourself out while mini-golfing, but you’d certainly exhausted your brain and your emotions while thinking through the sunset with Jake, so you’re eager to get your hands on a drink. 

It’s late, past what you’d normally call dinnertime, but not late enough to sleep after getting buzzed. Your only hope is the bar food, and you wonder if you’ll be able to choke down garlic knots after downing three drinks. That’s your plan for the night- three, no more, and hopefully no less. Three is the magic number, the one that will make you forget about your inner turmoil while still leaving you conscious enough to remember the night’s events tomorrow. You’re not the biggest fan of blacking out, but you’re glad you’re with Jake if you do.

You’re snacking on appetizers during your first drink, letting Daniel hand-feed you mozzarella sticks during your second, and by the third and final drink you’d planned for the night, you’re clumsily locking hands and arms with Danica, whirling around the small square of tiles they’re calling a dance floor. You’re whooping, cheering, and laughing as each of you stumble around each other, but you’re having fun, far more thrilling fun than you’ve had thus far and it’s pleasing your buzzed brain to not be thinking.

Jake’s tried to inject some Texan flair into your dancing, seizing the opportunity to teach you what he swears up and down is a ‘simple’ line dance when Fake ID begins blaring over the speakers. 

You think he’s full of shit.

It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen Footloose, you’re no Julianne Hough.

You and Danica both decide that the footwork is too difficult in your inebriated states, and your shoes just don’t click on the floor when Jake’s do, no matter how hard you try. Although, that might have something to do with how distracting he is, swinging his hips around while turning on his heels, extra pronounced to show you how it’s done.

Not that you’ve been looking at his hips moving, and if you have, it’s totally the drinks’ fault. And it’s especially their fault that- not that, if, it looks good.

You’re enjoying the atmosphere of the bar much more tonight than you were last night, which you feel guilty for, because Daniel had been a dream not even 24 hours ago. But things seem more solid now, more real, more comfortable despite your two left feet.

You’re not sure how, because your entire perception of Jake is widening, deepening, shifting. But one of the perks of being stuck together for years in a work environment where your lives depend on each other is that you happen to trust him, at least a little. 

He might not be the first person you’d choose for this particular endeavor, or the second, or the third, and maybe he wouldn’t have even been the last, before Danica had gotten to you, but you know you can fall back on at least being his friend while you’re trying to rhythmically peel your shoes off of the sticky floor of a bar.

Your brain had been buzzing with uncertainties last night, would Daniel kiss you, when would Daniel kiss you, how would Daniel kiss you, would it be as good as it was in the elevator, but here and now, you can predict Jake’s every move, even if Danica swears there’s new meaning behind it.

“No, darlin’, that’s not- that’s not it.” Jake shakes his head, and the speakers nearly drown him out as he studies your form, “You’re trying to jump, all you need to do is pick one foot up. It looks fancy ‘cause you’re turnin’ too, but it’s just one foot up and a spin, then you’re landing on the raised foot and doing the same with the opposite side.”

He demonstrates, and you stare blankly.

“Like this.” He offers, reaching for your waist with both hands, “Right foot up, heel against the floor.”

You let him shimmy your hips into position, and prop your heel up against the linoleum.

“Good. Now step back this way with the other foot,” He instructs, tugging at your hips, “And you’re gonna turn yourself to the right. Quarter-turn-” He calls, when you give it all you’ve got and nearly end up backwards, “Just a quarter-turn, darlin’. And then you’ve gotta come back the way you came, do it all this way. Left foot now, kick-ball-change.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying!” You yell to be heard over the music, your shoe slamming against the floor when you nearly lose your balance trying to imitate Jake’s impressive footwork, “Jake, I don’t think I’m made for line dancing!”

“You’re not.” Jake concludes, his voice deepening as he watches you try to keep pace with the song, but it’s useless when the last chorus ends and the music dies down, “But that doesn't mean we can’t try again.”

“The song’s over.” You point out, out of breath and grateful for the single second of silence before the next one plays, “I guess I’ll never learn.”

“I’ve got it on my phone.” Jake informs you, “And if we aren’t gonna have sex we’ve gotta be gettin’ some other exercise. You and me, darlin’, line dance drills first thing in the morning.”

You stuff your face into Danica’s bare shoulder, the strapless cut of her dress giving you a perfect expanse of skin to groan into. She laughs and you feel it where your nose is pressed into her neck- her perfume’s really nice. Elegant but sweet, something you’d want as an air freshener hanging from your rearview mirror.

You rest there, feeling her hand make contact with your waist as she tucks you against her. You sway slowly to the much more subdued song over the speakers, something about love and marriage and babies in the carriage. 

You remember last night’s haze- as much as your brain allows, and you recall being spun in a barstool by Daniel. You’d enjoyed it at the time, but this slow dance doesn’t make you nearly as dizzy, which you give Danica a point for. 

Perhaps a scoreboard would help you figure out what to do here?

Your head’s no longer in the clouds from Daniel’s allure, but thanks to your drinks your feet aren’t firmly on the ground anymore, either.

It’s actually Danica that lists sideways, but the way you’re pressed up against her means that you lean into it instead of against it, and the both of you tumble with startled yelps. You’re not so far gone that you don’t know you’re falling, but you’re too tipsy to balance yourself, and you resign yourself to breaking your nose against the dance floor as you fall for the second time in 24 hours.

Deja vu is not being kind to you on this cruise.

Danica goes down first, and you’re both lucky that Jake is there to chase after you, because he manages to lunge and slip his hand beneath her head before she can crack it against the tile, and he winds up clutching your back to his chest, keeping you upright against his own body. He’s hovering over Danica on the floor, one hand beneath her head and the other wrapped around your middle. It seems almost effortless, the way he keeps you upright, and you find that none of your weight is resting on your feet with the way they’re limply resting on the ground between Jake’s own. You’re just- hanging there, saved by Jake’s strong arms. You can see muscles bulging in his forearms as he tries keeping his center of gravity grounded without dropping either of you, but Daniel’s made his way over by now, mere seconds too late to catch you, and takes Danica’s head from Jake’s palm.

“I got it.” Daniel mumbles, neutral as a combination of gruff to Jake and crooning to Danica. She looks just as shocked as you are at your sudden change of perspective, and she lets Daniel haul her up into a seated position, resting her weight against his side.

“Jesus. You two can’t handle the damn dance floor.” Jake pants, his breath puffing against your ear as he straightens up. He’d been crouched over, and you’re impressed that he’d been able to stay upright himself with the way he’d hung onto your languid form, practically dangling you from his chest.

“Are you okay?” Daniel ducks to meet Danica’s glassy gaze, his voice soft and his eyes concerned. 

She nods, scrubbing a hand over her eyes, “I think so. Jake- did you catch me?”

“I hope I did. Does your head hurt?” He frowns, and now that you’ve remembered how to use your feet again, you attempt to. You stand, trying to squirm out of his hold around your midsection but he doesn’t let go, only squeezing you tighter to his chest like a silent reprimand.

“Jake-” You grunt, trying to pry his hand off of your waist but he swats you away, eyes still worriedly locked on Danica.

“No, it doesn’t hurt.” She decides, “I’m just dizzy. And- um, a little sick.”

Daniel moves much quicker this time, standing and bending over to meet her instead of having his entire body in the splash zone, “Can you make it to the bathroom? Or do you want to just sit for a while and see if it passes?”

She swallows experimentally, and grimaces, “Bathroom. Please.”

“I can take her,” You offer, but Jake’s other hand flies to your waist now, and he manhandles you around to face him. You nearly lose your balance again when he spins you, and you’re so intimidated by Jake’s eyes staring directly into your own that you don’t feel steady despite your feet being on the ground.

“Wait. What about you?” He asks, peering into your eyes like he’ll find signs of a concussion in them, “Did you hit anything?”

His scrutiny reminds you of earlier in the pool, when your bikini had come untied and you’d seen genuine concern from Jake for one of the first times in your life, unmarred by amusement, scorn, or his ego. It had been raw, real, and you see the near-permanent cocky glaze clear from his eyes like clouds drifting away from the sprawling light of the sun. Underneath is Jake, really, truly Jake, and you don’t know how to act when you find yourself met with nothing but sincerity.

“I’m fine.” You manage, your protests melting into a feeble hand on his wrist, not pulling, not pushing, just holding, “Jake, you can- you can let me go, I’m okay.”

He takes a breath, then releases the pressure on your waist, but his hands don’t lower and yours doesn’t drop from his. You stay there for a moment, by choice, and then a soft groan comes from Danica and you remember there’s things going on outside of whatever vortex you and Jake had been sucked into just now. The music comes flooding back into your senses, you remember you’re standing in the sticky remains of dozens of spilled drinks on the dance floor, and Daniel’s eyes on you and Jake blaze, not warm like Jake’s sun but scorching, burning, painful.

Jake drags his hands off of your hips and your arm falls back to your side.

“Come on,” Your voice is almost shaky, something weak and frail as you let Danica drape herself over your shoulders, “It’s not that far to the bathroom. You think you can make it?”

She nods, but her response is more of a grunt than anything else. You feel for her- there’s nausea roiling in your own gut from where Jake had inadvertently squeezed your stomach.

You help her move slowly and carefully into the bathroom, trudging under her weight as she rests her face in the crook of your neck. It’s comforting, but now you’re marveling even more at how Jake had kept you both suspended, your tired limbs sluggish and struggling to hold another person’s weight.

Jake hadn’t been knocking back drinks like you had, but you have to hand it to him; he’s got military muscles.

Jake watches carefully as you and Danica cross the threshold of the bathroom, feeling the same urge to barge in as he had the night prior. This all feels like a time loop, where each day gets more confusing and complicated than the last. Same bar, same people, same drinks, but wildly different feelings in the air.

He wonders if Danica’s advice has been paying off- sure, you’d been receptive enough on the golf course, but he’s unfamiliar with doing anything but needling you, and trying to puzzle out your reactions to things while also engaging in an entirely new set of behaviors is a lot for him to handle.

He wishes he could read your mind.

This cruise gives him the opportunity of a lifetime. It’s an isolated environment that encourages sex without complications and people he’s never going to see again in his life-

Except for you.

Of course you’re here too. 

Of course he couldn’t have just taken Coyote’s advice in peace, of course he couldn’t have gotten away from all the buzz of the San Diego port and fucked his feelings out on some random woman, using her as an outlet for all of his conflicting feelings on getting older and settling down. He’s in his thirties trying to live at twenty-one, used to the bachelor life but watching all of his friends get married and have kids right before his eyes. Each one is a wake up call, and waking up to a stranger in his bed opens a chasm beneath his heart that he digs deeper every time.

And it doesn’t help that he’s found himself drawn to you. At a time he’d have called you enemies or rivals, and even just a day before this cruise he would have described your relationship as something pitted against him. But you’re his favorite to mess with, you’re the one whose side he drifts to unconsciously, even if it’s just to knock you around by your helmet, and he slides into a comfortable routine of giving you a hard time every time you work together. Perhaps it was born out of contempt or jealousy but as he’s grown, shifted, deepened, it’s become something he does by default. The actions have stayed the same but the man has changed, and Danica’s suggestion that the actions may have to change along with the man thrusts Jake into highly uncomfortable territory.

No one has ever called Jake Seresin a vulnerable man, and giving anyone the opportunity to do so now makes him feel like he’s spinning out behind the controls.

Luckily for him, an agitating snarl comes from over his left shoulder to oh-so-kindly snap him out of his reverie.

“Are you just gonna stand there and wait for them to come back?” Daniel asks, his voice rough and jagged, “You can relax- they don’t need their guard dog right now.”

Jake turns, his face hardening into the smirk he wears so often, “Well staying alert was what just saved the day, wasn’t it? I noticed you didn’t get there in time.”

Daniel’s eyes flash dangerously, something steely in them that Jake notices every time something interferes with his faux-chivalry.

“You know what else I noticed? I think you’ve got a problem with me.” Jake pushes, edging into Daniel’s space like he’s practiced with dozens of opponents before. His signature move- push just far enough to get the other person to start the fight.

“Now is it the height,” Jake inches forwards, looking down at Daniel with his shoulders squared, “Or the muscles?” He doesn’t even have to accentuate those, “Or, is it that you thought you were gonna be gettin’ it on with two women tonight, and it’s looking like you’re down to none?”

“She doesn’t like you,” Daniel seethes, “Neither of them do.”

And maybe he hits his mark, maybe it’s ‘like’ instead of ‘want’- love instead of sex - maybe it’s the way he believes what he says, the conviction in his tone and in his tensed shoulders, but Jake bristles, jaw tightening and muscles tensed.

“You’re a cocky, self-centered, arrogant douchebag,” Daniel declares, “And that persona’s a dime a dozen straight out of high school. She wants- she deserves something better than that. She deserves someone better than you. A real man, not some frat boy who thinks one smirk can win him whoever he wants. And even if you manage to ‘get her’, even if you wear her down and coerce her into giving you what you want,” Daniel exhales heavily, reminding Jake of a stubborn, vicious bull, seeing red in the apples of Jake’s cheeks, “You’ll have to live the rest of your life knowing you made hers worse.”

Jake’s only silent for a few seconds, and then his voice is lower and more dangerous than it’s ever been, “Get out of my face before I knock your teeth out, son.”

“You know I’m right. And that’s why you’re mad,” Daniel goads, unafraid of Jake even if he should be, which is infuriating to the hotheaded pilot in and of itself. Jake leans forwards, fist itching, begging to drive itself into Daniel’s jaw but he restrains himself with the last shred of his self-control as Daniel keeps running his mouth, “You’re learning for the first time ever that some women won’t spread their legs for you just ‘cause you ask, and that you might actually have to care about them.”

“I do care about her!” Jake snaps, nearly shouting now, and the last thing on his mind is whether he’s drawing a crowd or not. It’s all-out, here and now, Jake vs. Daniel, onlookers be damned.

“No you don’t. You care about sex. You care about getting laid and you care about winning.” Daniel’s chest heaves, and Jake feels that almost insatiable itch to cock a fist back and slam it into Daniel’s nose so hard it breaks, “She told me that last night. She’s too good for you, man.” Daniel warns, the sneer on his face so disgusted you’d think Jake was a slug he’d trodden on in the middle of the sidewalk, “And whether you admit it or not, it’s true. Whether she forgets it or not, it’s true. So do whatever you want, fuck her or don’t,” Daniel scoffs, “But you’ll never deserve her.”

The only reason Jake doesn’t knock his teeth loose right then and there is because Daniel’s had the good sense to step back a few feet, and compose himself like he’s not about to fight back. There’s a few wary onlookers who eye them cautiously, edging away from the pair just in case they snap, but Jake’s not stupid- he doesn’t start fights, he wins them. He falls into old habits, abandoning sight of what the ‘new Jake’ would do and goading, smirking, pushing.

“And you do? You deserve her?”

“Maybe not. But I do more than you do.” Daniel’s clenched fist comes to rest on the back of one of the barstools, “And even she knows that.”

“It don’t matter what you think we’re worth.” Jake scoffs, breathing heavily, “She decides what she wants. Now who’s trying to win?”

“I am winning!” Daniel seethes, his voice roaring over the music as his fist slams into the upholstered cushion, “Just because neither of us have had sex yet doesn’t mean we’ve lost! All you’ve done so far is stepped on people’s toes and bullied your way into every conversation Y/N has with anyone. You think that’s attractive? She wants a real man, and you’re not one.”

“For once,” Jake narrows his eyes at Daniel, slits that ooze contempt and disgust, “I ain’t trying to win. And seeing you throw another one of your little temper tantrums about it makes me glad I’m not the man I was five years ago. If that’s what I looked like,” Jake spits, “No wonder she doesn’t wanna trust me now. But the difference is, Daniel, that one of us is changin’, and the other one’s punching a hole in a barstool because he’s coming in second.”

“Stay away from her.” 

Jake laughs, a dangerous sound that he hopes Daniel takes as a warning, “No, asshole. You stay away from her. I mean it. She may deserve better than me,” Jake breathes, his jaw clenched firmly, “But whatever that is, it’s not you.”

If Danica hadn’t let out a weak, slightly wet cough from the door to the bathroom, Daniel would have lunged at Jake. But he doesn’t, and they turn to watch you shuffling out with Danica still draped over your shoulder.

“She wants to go to bed,” You glance warily at Daniel, “Just- don’t jostle her too much. Walk slow and don’t take the elevators.”

“Come here.” Daniel hums, hoisting Danica’s limp form off of your frame and cradling her in his own, “Are you feeling dizzy still?”

“Just from the drinks.” She nods, “And- sick. But nothing more than that. I should have eaten better before this.”

Jake hums sympathetically, and you feel your own near-empty stomach roil in indignation that you’d sicced liquor on it before food. Nothing sounds good now, not that you’re full of alcohol, but eating will be better than not eating, so you let yourself drift to Jake’s side and wait for him to notice you.

When he does, his entire focus shifts, and he cranes his neck downwards slightly to peer at you closer, “You okay?”

“Fine. Just- a little sick, too.” You admit, “Can we get something to eat?”

“Of course.” Jake nods, his hand flying to the small of your back whether consciously or not.

“We could all go,” Daniel offers, but the way he leans towards you makes Danica whine in discomfort as her head spins. He’s quick to correct it, but you shake your head at his offer.

“No, she needs to get to bed. Do you want us to bring you something later?” You offer, “We can ask for to-go boxes.”

“You can order room service.” Jake grins, a sneer in intention but not by looks, “Danica, honey, feel better.”

“Thank you.” She croaks, and Jake’s hand around your waist tugs you pointedly towards the door.

You try throwing Daniel and Danica apologetic looks, but you’re dragged out of the bar too quickly.

You feel irritation rising in your chest at Jake, something he’d been getting good at not triggering in you for the last couple hours. You side-eye him, but you let him continue leading you to the elevators instead of wrenching yourself out of his grasp, “That was rude, Jake.”

“He’s rude.” Jake states, his eyes forward and refusing to meet yours, “You didn’t hear what he was saying about you while you were in the bathroom.”

Your brows furrow, and when you enter the thankfully-empty elevator, you turn to face him instead of standing by his side, “About me? What did he say?”

“The kinda thing I would’ve said a few years ago.” Jake frowns, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that’s meant to come off as lazy but really just shows his tensed muscles.

“That bad?” You laugh nervously, trying to diffuse the tension while being eaten alive by your own nerves. Daniel? Sweet, perfect, caring- okay, slightly complicated and anger-prone Daniel? 

24 hours ago you’d have called Jake a liar. Now you notice the stiffness in his jaw as he gnaws on the inside of his cheek and wonder how many times he’s tried to tell you something and you’ve assumed he was messing with you.

“What do you want for dinner?” You try, and he glances carefully at you where you stand across from him. Apparently he appreciates that you’ve dropped the subject, because his shoulders deflate slightly.

“I don’t know what’s open.” He checks his watch, finding the hour a little too late if the wrinkling of his nose is any indication, “The restaurants stop taking reservations after 7. And all that’s left is fast food and ice cream. We might have to order room service.”

The thought of gorging on half-cold room service beside Jake, crammed into the same bed while trying desperately not to touch each other, makes your stomach hurt worse. There’s too many things happening, too many things to think about, and you regret having stopped yourself at three cocktails.

“I want another drink,” You groan, leaning against the wall behind you as the elevator climbs steadily towards the top decks, the ones with the most food service, “Can we go to the buffet?”

--

The buffet is closed, but the bar is not. Drink number four wasn’t planned, but neither were the revelations you’ve been having, and taking care of Danica had really sobered you up. You’re in need of a good old-fashioned margarita, and once you’ve got one in your hands you let Jake parade you around the pool’s deck, peering at menus to quick-service restaurants that are already closed for the night.

“Wings?” You ask, but the kiosk is closed.

“We could do sushi.” Jake offers, but the neon sign is no longer lit.

It’s several twists and turns to investigate every little storefront, and several sips of your margarita to bring back your buzz, but it quickly becomes apparent that there’s only one sign left lit this late at night.

“I guess it’s pizza. Again.” Jake hums, “Is that gonna be okay on your stomach?”

“It’s fine. It’s still better than room service.” You have visions of reheated buffet food, “Let’s just get different toppings and pretend we didn’t have this six hours ago.”

What you decide on is veggie, hoping that the bell peppers and greens might do something kind to your stomach even if they’re soaked in grease from the cheese and bread beneath them.

You beeline for the table you’d sat at earlier as a party of four, but Jake catches your elbow and drags you closer to the edge of the deck.

“Let’s look at the water,” He urges, “Now that the lounge chairs aren’t all taken.”

“We should-” You start unsteadily, having chugged half of your drink in order to not spill it while balancing your pizza as well, “We should get up really early tomorrow to get a spot.”

“Tomorrow we’ll be docked,” Jake reminds you, “We can go to a beach instead of a tiny swimming pool.”

“Oh, right.” You hum, cramming pizza into your mouth to soothe the ache in your stomach, “What are you gonna do once we get off the ship?”

“We can try some excursions,” Jake shrugs, folding his pizza in half so that it doesn’t droop, “The website said something about a golf cart tour, and snorkeling off the coast, if you wanna do that.”

“You don’t have to do everything with me, y’know.” You hum, onions leaving a bitter taste on your tongue, “If you want to do something you don’t have to do it with me.”

He rears back, faux-offended, “Yeah? And what if I want to?”

“Then we can,” You chuckle, “Just- don’t let me hold you back more than I already am.”

He’d been raising his pizza to his mouth to take a bite, but he stops short and watches you instead of eating. You’re turned towards the sea, stray hairs blowing around your face as the nighttime wind pushes across the deck. He’s not sure what you’re seeing in the waves, but probably something induced by your mostly-empty margarita.

“You’re not holding me back.” He hums, soft and low, “I like doing stuff with you. Remember? You’re fun sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” You nod, “Right. Well, I’m just letting you know.”

“I know.” Jake assures you, nudging his knee into yours, “And if I’m ever- y’know, too pushy? You can tell me to kick rocks and eat-”

“Dolphins!” You shriek.

“Dolphins?” Jake’s brows furrow, “Why would I eat- oh. Dolphins.”

You’re pointing frantically off the side of the deck, and Jake quickly maneuvers himself onto your lounge chair to grab you from behind before you can launch yourself over the railing. There is, in fact, a pod of dolphins beside the boat, weaving over and under each other, breaching the surface to showcase their silvery skin that glints in the moonlight. The rational part of Jake’s brain suggests that they’re feeding off of any sea life being churned up by the boat’s trajectory, but the margarita part of your brain seems to think they’ve come to show off for you. 

“Jake, look!” You gush, enthused, and then your ass is in his face.

Jake’s eyes widen when you prop yourself up on all fours, your knees now grating against the rough mesh of the lounge chair as you lean even further over the railing. It puts your ass right at eye-level, and the shorts you’re donning are loose enough that they offer him a rather salacious view of what’s beneath them. He tears his eyes away as soon as his brain comes back to him, even if he feels a rush of blood travel south. In order to stop you from tumbling he has to stand and grab you, rolling onto his own knees on instinct to grab hold of your shoulders and hoist you upright. It means that your ass is firmly, snugly flush with Jake’s crotch, and you don’t seem to notice because you’re too caught up in the dolphins swimming beside the boat.

“Jesus, please don’t fall.” He begs, his lips beside your ear as the wind blows cold against both of your faces.

“I won’t fall! But look, they’re jumping!”

Jake ensures you’re secure in his grip before peering down over the railing, and it really is a sight to behold. There must be five dolphins visible, jumping and diving through the churning water caused by the boat’s motor. They’re not vocalizing much, but every once in a while a click or a screech floats up on the ocean breeze and Jake hears you laugh the way that only someone who’s had four cocktails in a row can laugh.

As nervous as he is that you were going to plummet into the sea, he can appreciate the way you’re leaning into the wind and watching the dolphins below. You’re genuinely excited, something he hasn’t seen on this trip so far, and rarely gets to see on the tarmac. He catches a glimpse of your eyes when you turn your head to watch a dolphin to your left, and they’re shining like the moonlight is on the water. He doesn’t miss the way you melt into him, either, and he’ll take credit for this one instead of letting the liquor.

You let him hold you around the middle, though he’s sure you haven’t noticed that you’re nearly grinding against him when you stick your ass out to lean further over the railing. He’s trying really valiantly not to let himself be affected by this, but he’s fairly certain that at least half of something is going on downstairs from physical stimulation alone. Hopefully it won’t be visible when you pull away, and if it is, hopefully you won’t notice.

“This is like,” You start, your voice nearly lost to the wind as you face away from Jake, “-that scene in Titanic.”

You throw your arms out, and Jake has no problem curling his further around your belly.

“I’ve never seen it.” He admits, shouting to be heard over the noise of the ship and the whipping of the breeze.

“Me neither!” You laugh, and you fall back against him, nearly knocking him off of the chair altogether.

“Hey!” He yelps, but he’s laughing when you squirm at the way his fingers dig into your side momentarily. You’re not a fan of being tickled, and he knows this from painstakingly earned experience, (a kick to the balls), but he tests a few gentle squeezes at your side to get you giggling again.

“Stop! Stop,” You gush, laughing and panting, and he does, his fingers stilling on your waist. He’s on his butt now, with your weight against him, and he reclines the wrong way against the lounge chair to let you rest comfortably.

“That pizza was cold.” You muse, “But it did help. I don’t feel as sick anymore.”

“That’s good. Drinking on an empty stomach,” Jake scoffs, “Are you trying to black out?”

“Kind of.” You admit, your voice taking a quiet, somber turn, “I’ve had… a lot to think about, recently.”

Jake nods slowly, carefully, “Yeah. Me too.”

“And you’re not drinking about it?” You crane your neck to chance a glance back at him, that shimmer in your eyes dulled but not gone, “You’re braver than I am, Jake.”

“No, I’m smarter than you are.” He teases, “Someone has to make sure we don’t fall over the side of the deck.”

“I wasn’t gonna fall!” You whine, “You’re so dramatic. And besides, that’s not fair. I should take a turn being sober so that you can drink.”

“You should, Miss Margarita.” Jake agrees, “Just don’t let me get too smashed before snorkeling tomorrow, okay? I don’t want to try and befriend a stingray.”

You giggle at the imagery, your cheeks flushed and hot where they brush against his bicep briefly. Your grin is toothy and infectious, carefree from the liquor and- dare he say love.

Not for him, of course, or- not like that for him, it’s just that he’d like to think that eight years by your side constitutes some feelings of fondness towards him, and that maybe you could perhaps, possibly say it’s love. Even if it’s completely platonic. Just- you could use the word love, probably.

He wishes he was drunk.

“We should go to bed.” You hum, sounding almost sad, “I’m tipsy and I want to be up early tomorrow for the excursions. We can beat the morning rush and get a head start on exploring.”

“Sounds like a plan,” He lets your waist go as you stand from his grip, righting himself after you’ve proved yourself steady on your feet. You gather your trash slowly but surely, and you only miss your shot at the garbage can with one balled-up napkin stained with copious amounts of pizza grease.

Neither of you say anything about the way his hand gravitates towards your waist again while he’s walking you back towards the elevators. Maybe it’s because you’re too buzzed to have a meaningful conversation, or maybe it’s because he’s doing a good enough job at pretending it’s just so that you don’t tip over again. Whatever the reason, Jake’s grateful for it when you pass by a closed piano lounge, and the tune of your favorite song makes its muffled way through the doors.

“Jake,” You breathe, that same shining excitement in your eyes as before, “I love this song.”

“I know. You put it on in the car every time we drive somewhere,” He grins, letting the hand on your waist serve as a leader as the other grasps at one of your hands, “You’re into them cheesy love songs, aren’t’cha?”

“Not all of us can be line dancers, cowboy.” You inform him smartly, your feet a slight second out of tune with your brain as you begin a slow, clumsy waltz. You reach for his shoulder, letting your other hand melt into his own,“Some of us enjoy the quiet things in life.”

Jake’s never been quiet for a second. He’d ridden saddle bronc in rodeos since he was old enough to, and even then he’d refused to use the smaller, more tame horses that they’d offered him. No, he wanted the biggest, the meanest, the best, and he’s always tried emulating those same characteristics so that no one can ever tame him.

But here, now, you’re swirling him around outside of a closed bar, tipsy and dizzy, stumbling over his feet and your own alike. Your eyes are closed and your face is curved in a soft, serene smile, and he feels your grip on his shoulder loosen comfortably as you ease into a rhythm with him that you’d failed to achieve only hours prior.

Perhaps, like Danica had been suggesting, Jake’s fast-paced, cocky routine might have to wait for a slow dance first. Maybe you’d both be better off waltzing before grapevining, in case one of you twists an ankle or breaks a heart. 

Maybe he needs to appreciate the quiet things in life, if you’re willing to share them with him.

Your nose nestles into his neck at some point, and he feels your breath puff warm down the front of his shirt. Your arm is draped lazily over his shoulder now, not a grip but a presence all the same, your fingers ghosting feather-light over the nape of his neck. It tingles, gives him the urge to shudder but he doesn’t dare, not now that you’re sighing against him and swaying like you’re dancing at a ball animated by Disney.

He’s quiet, and so are you.

When the song ends you keep humming lazily against the collar of his shirt. It takes a solid ten seconds and the beginning of the next song to realize that you’re not harmonizing with anything anymore, and your eyes flutter open as you lift your head from his shoulder.

You’re close.

Very close. 

Your nose nearly brushes his chin, and when he angles his face subtly, almost imperceptibly downwards, your lips are on a crash course. It’s a perfect trajectory, a little down for him and a little up for you. But you’re frozen in time, your eyes locking onto his and getting lost in what they reveal.

There’s vulnerability swirling in both of your gazes, and it’s so striking to see that you’re each rendered speechless. There’s nothing to say, there’s nothing that could properly convey your feelings on what’s happening to you both, there’s only your eyes and his, and your interlocked hands.

Then Jake sees something eerily close to stone cold, sober fear flash through your stare, and you slowly detach yourself from him.

Your hand slips out of his own, you step backwards to free your waist from his grip, and your hand is no longer raking through the wispy hairs on the back of his neck.

You step away, one foot at a time, and stare at him with that almost-petrified gaze, your chest heaving visibly.

Then your face falls into something more neutral, and you back towards the elevators, “We should go.”

“Right.” Jake murmurs, following behind you with lead feet that would very much like to stay planted right where they were a minute ago, with yours stepping all over them. But he follows, because he thinks he might be magnetized to you, even if sometimes you’re oppositely charged.

The elevator ride is silent and awkward. The type of silence that you thought was gone between you and Jake, the thick, tense kind that you’d suffered for years up until just hours prior.

Despite having years of experience sitting in heavy silence with Jake, this bout makes him feel like a stranger compared to the man you’d just been slow dancing with.

You’re sobered now, from the shock of being a second away from kissing him, and from staring at the floor in the elevator until it had dinged and let you out on your cabin’s floor. It gives you enough hand-eye coordination to dig your keycard out of your pocket, and you push first into your room, Jake hesitantly, silently on your trail.

You duck into the bathroom to change and Jake doesn’t tease you like he did yesterday. He doesn’t try to break in once, which is a comforting thing, but your reality check had reminded you that eight years of irritation can’t be solved in a few hours worth of chivalry.

Still, you’d had fun tonight. And you’d felt safe, secure- happy in Jake’s company, comfortable with his arm around your waist and giddy when he’d held you in his lap by the railing. Are you caving? Are you doing the one thing you’d sworn only a day prior to not do? Are you giving in and letting him win?

That’s why you’d stopped yourself. In that moment, you’d wanted nothing more than to press your lips to his and let your fingers sink into his hair, let his hands grope at your waist. And it scared you. You’d wanted to cave, to give in, to betray yourself, and all of the fear that had been momentarily silenced by Danica’s token live advice roils fiercely in your gut like liquor has been all night.

If he’s trying to win, you can’t lose. And he’s doing a good job at convincing you he’s not trying to win anymore, but old habits die hard. How can you be sure he’s not?

You stuff yourself numbly into a nightgown, the most chaste one you’d brought, and you avoid meeting Jake’s eye when you step out of the bathroom.

You’re reminded now, standing barefoot in the walkway, that there’s only one bed. Last night had been a blur, and you hadn’t woken even when Jake had changed you into your nightclothes. You’re still mortified about that, really, and remembering that you’re going to have to crawl into bed beside Jake, who’s already there waiting for you, doesn’t help.

“Um,” You start, your voice dull, “I’ll take the couch.”

“What?” He asks, trying to tamp down some of the brashness that typically inhabits his tone, “That’s silly. There’s enough room for the both of us.”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t. I’d better-” You try, and he kicks the covers off of himself, standing and revealing that he’s once again wearing nothing but boxers.

“No, I’ll take it.” He mumbles, not surly, just subdued, “You can have the bed.”

“No, that’s not- that’s not fair.” You finally look at him, your eyes wounded and guilty, “Just- you take the bed.”

“Only if you do.” He looks similarly defeated, standing there in just his underwear, “C’mon, Y/N. You know I won’t do anything to you.”

And even despite the hesitation that had clawed at your heart only minutes ago, puncturing your lungs and making it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to stay, you do know that. Because it’s always been true of Jake; he’s cocky, but he’s not a monster. You knew it last night, and you know it tonight. So you cave, you give in, you betray yourself, and you trudge towards the side of the bed you’d been laid in last night.

You feel restless as Jake buries himself under the covers again, and you know sleep won’t come easy. So you keep yourself upright, lounging back on two pillows stacked behind your back and reaching for your book.

“Mind if I keep a light on?” You hum, and Jake shakes his head, peering at your book.

“Late-night reading?”

“Can’t sleep.” You admit, “I’m not even gonna try.”

He inhales- it’s an audible thing, not a gasp but a long, steadying breath. Then he lets it out, and you tug your book so close to your face that it obscures him from your vision.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He hums, his voice barely more than a whisper. You can’t see it, but he keeps himself turned towards you, studying the way your fingers twitch against the cover, wishing he could see the face obscured behind it.

You speak into the pages of your book, hoping your words get lost there, “Goodnight, Jake.”

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[bitters-n-sweets]

what survived the fire pt. 4 — jack abbot x ex-combat-medic!fem!reader It’s time for you to try out the day shift as a fellow. You're nervous because it's the first shift you're not with Jack, but things turned out for the better :)

warnings: none? it's a lot of fluff and no angst. still mdni, this chapter will be mostly about the reader, so not a lot of romance in the middle (more at the end!) series masterlist || main taglist: @nerdgirljen

Your hand clasps Jack’s dog tags as you stand in front of the ER entrance like it’ll give you some confidence. It’s not your first time here, obviously, but it feels different today. Usually, Jack’s by your side. Today, it’s just you. It’s 6AM. Your first mandated day shift. And somehow, it feels like your first day all over again.

Taking a deep breath, you tuck his chain into your scrubs and walk in.

Jack’s by the nurse’s station, already with his bag and ready to go when he spots you. “There you are.”

“Hi.” You offer a small smile.

He gives you a quick hug, one that wouldn’t raise any suspicion. “Ready for the day shift?”

“I guess so,” you let out a nervous laugh.

“You’ll ace it,” He says confidently. “Go find Robby. I’ll meet you after?”

You nod, letting him go. “See you after.”

You head to the lockers to drop your bag, then scan the floor until you spot Dr. Robby across the room. He smiles when he sees you.

“Hi, Dr. Robby,” You shake his hand, “I’m excited to start today.”

“It’s great to finally work with you,” He says, “I think you’ve met most of the day team during PittFest. Things run the same as nights, so just jump in where you’re comfortable.”

“Sounds great.” You nod.

“We’ve got a couple minutes—walk with me?” he offers, already turning toward the ER floor.

You said sure and follow his footsteps, walking through the ER.

“How are you doing?” He asks, his tone makes you think he’s asking a personal question, not as an attending.

You’ve crossed paths with Robby on the rooftop before—sometimes with Jack, sometimes alone. He’s heard bits of your story. You see why he’s friends with Jack and why Jack trusts him.

“Doing good,” You say, “Still trying to… figure things out, you know. Find myself and all that.”

Robby nods, “Well let me know if there’s anything I can do, alright? Jack will kill me if anything happens to you on my watch.”

You laugh at his remark.

“No, seriously.” He grins, giving you a gentle nudge, “Okay, off you go.”

The ER during the day is a lot busier than at night, but it’s way less violent. Less chaos, fewer outbursts. No drunk brawls or combative overdoses. Instead, it’s children with fevers, elderly patients struggling to breathe, worried families in every corner. And that makes it heavier, it creeps into the deepest parts of you and stays there.

You peel off your gloves, heart still pounding from the last call. Trauma 1. A woman in her thirties had jumped into the river to save her son. She didn’t remember until it was too late that she couldn’t swim herself. She coded on the way in, came back after two rounds of compressions, but it was close.

“A mother’s instinct, right?” Langdon mutters, standing next to you looking at the board.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’m gonna cherry pick something easy now.”

“That makes the two of us.” He says before going to Bay 5.

You decide to pick an easy case, a woman in her fifties, sitting upright, cradling her arm in a makeshift sling. She looks calm—bored, even. You knock lightly before stepping in.

“Hi,” You introduce yourself, “I see you’re dealing with a wrist sprain?”

She nods. “Slipped on some stairs trying to carry too many grocery bags in one go. Serves me right.”

As you start examining her wrist, her eyes narrow slightly, taking you in more carefully. Not in an accusatory way, more curious. “You served?”

Your hands pause mid-motion, glancing at her. “I… yeah,” you admit.

“I could tell.” She smiles. “The posture. The way you keep your hair. Little things most people don’t notice.”

You blink, surprised. You hadn't even thought about it—how your bun hasn't changed in years, how your tone still carries that clipped precision. It's muscle memory now. Putting your hair up in a tidy bun even when you no longer need to, it just feels… necessary. Ritualistic, even.

“No shame in that,” she replies. “Just means it left a mark. We all carry pieces of it, whether we know it or not. It’s not a bad thing. It’s just part of who you are.”

You nod, a little self-conscious. You’d spent so long trying to blend in, to start over. But maybe you never really left it behind. You continue to work on her injury, pushing the negative thoughts away.

“And you?” You ask her.

“Takes one to know one.” She smiles. “Brave of you to jump into a different kind of battlefield.”

You chuckle nervously, “Guess it’s where I belong.”

You discharge her soon after that, but her words lingered a little too long. Your hand presses Jack’s dog tags to your chest, soothing the ill-feeling climbing up your throat.

Mel is walking by when she spots you. She calls you over and says hi. “I heard you’re joining our day shift today, I’m so excited to work with you again—in better circumstances.”

“Me too, Mel!” You smile and suddenly notice her braided hair. “Hey, um, can I ask for a favor?”

Robby scans the board with a sigh. The shift’s been smooth—smoother than usual—and though he doesn’t want to jinx it, having you on the day team seems to help. He glances across the ER, but you’re not with a patient. Worry rushes to him. Jack had discreetly told him about your panic attack incident a few shifts ago, and Jack would kick his ass if he found you dealing with it alone.

Passing the break room, Robby stops short.

You're sitting in one of the chairs, posture relaxed for once, while Mel stands behind you, braiding your hair with practiced ease.

“Does this hurt?”

“Nope, not at all,” You say. “You’re so good at this.”

Mel grins. “Thanks. I braid my sister’s hair all the time—kind of muscle memory now. I can show you how to do some simple ones, if you want—”

“—Uh…” Is the only noise Robby manages to get out as he watches you two.

Mel glances up, grinning. “And we’re done. She looks great, right?” She gives your braid a final pat and heads out. “Okay, back to work!”

“Thanks, Mel!” You call out and smile awkwardly at Robby. “Sorry. Someone recognized I was military just from my hair and I—it’s not important. I’m getting back to work.”

“That’s okay,” Robby chuckles. “It suits you. Here’s to refinding ourselves, right?”

You smile appreciatively. “Yeah.”

“I’m sure Jack’ll love it too.” He whispers near your ear.

Your blush is immediate.

He laughs, satisfied that he’s not the only one around who gets beet red. “On a more serious note,” his expression changes, “Are you and Jack…?”

You blink a few times and connect the dots. “Oh. Um—no, I—I don’t… I’m not—”

“For the record, I’m asking as a friend.” Robby smiles like he already knows your answer.

You let out a nervous laugh. “We’ve talked about it. I think we’re taking it slow… I think he’s doing it for me. I’m still fighting my demons, and I don’t want to burden him any more than I already have.”

“He’s lucky to have you. Not just on shift, but… in general.” Robby says it without teasing this time. “I’ve known him a while. He doesn’t let people in easily, and I’ve never seen him like this. With anyone.”

You’re quiet, unsure what to say.

Robby smiles softly. “You deserve something good, after everything. And Jack? He’s something good. Maybe it’s okay to stop fighting that.”

You glance away, fingers instinctively brushing the dog tags under your scrubs. “Yeah. Maybe it is.”

Ding. Speak of the devil.

Jack: Doing okay with the shift? I’ll be there soon, want me to get you anything?

A smile creeps up to your face. You text him back and resume your day, following Robby to the board.

It’s late and you’re busy charting when you hear Robby, “Good job today, doc.”

“Thanks, you too.” You smile.

“So how was your first day shift, hon?” Dana asks, “Tell me you’re sticking with us?”

You laugh, “I don’t know about that…”

“Come on,” Robby persuades, “Isn’t there something we can do to get you away from Abbot’s claws?”

“Nope. Not at all.” You hear a familiar voice boom from behind you. Jack.

Dana rolls her eyes, “Can’t we all learn how to share?”

“Sorry,” Jack shrugs, “I’m not sharing her.”

Your cheeks heat instantly. Jack nods toward the hallway with a subtle tilt of his head, and without a word, you follow him—leaving Dana and Robby behind, snickering like high schoolers.

On the rooftop, Jack leans against the railing, eyes skimming the city but flicking back to you, a small smile growing when he notices your new hairstyle.

“You look nice.” He smiles, “The hair suits you.”

“Thanks.” You nudge his shoulder, “I missed you today.”

Jack raises a brow at that. “Really?”

“Yeah, I didn’t have my favorite attending hovering and micromanaging my every move.” You say.

“Micromanaging?” He sounds surprised, “And what makes you so sure I wasn’t watching? I have eyes everywhere, you know.”

You smile at him, watching his relaxed expression instead of the sunset.

“What?” He asks, a smile on his face when he realizes you’re staring.

“Nothing,” You shrug, “Just… thank you.”

Jack raises a brow, amused.

“You…Just…” You steal glances at him, “Wherever you are, it’s like I know you’re always there, and I keep wanting to run to you. You keep me going, Jack.”

Jack falters, and you can see a tinge of pink on the tips of his ears.

You step a little closer. You mean to kiss his cheek, a quiet thank you, a little tease to push your limits because of his flushed ears—but just as you lean in, Jack turns toward you.

Your lips brush.

You freeze, both of you surprised, but neither of you pulls away.

His hand comes up gently, resting against your cheek. You draw back slightly, just enough to look at him. Your eyes meet. Jack’s searching your face, like asking for permission, like asking if you’re sure. And you’ve never been more sure.

You give the faintest nod.

His thumb brushes your side, and this time, when he kisses you, it’s slower—gentle, but searing. A beautiful mess of tongues, hands everywhere, and soft, breathless moans you can't help but let slip. You have to tear yourselves apart just to remember how to breathe.

Jack rests his forehead against yours, chest rising and falling, his voice hoarse when he speaks.

“Fuck,” he murmurs with a soft laugh. “Don’t think I can last this shift without you.”

You laugh too, still clinging to his scrubs like they’re the only thing keeping you upright.

“You free tomorrow?” he asks.

“Mm-hm.” You nod. “Why?”

Jack smiles, like he’s already planning it out. “We’re going on a date.”

[zerocoded]

summary: what is like to date idol!txt.

author's note: i wish i could turn this into an idol!series where i portray them as our boyfies because i have SO MANY ideas like this but i'm can't tell if anyone would enjoy this lol. also, not me writing this while i'm studying for my finals and trying not to die from burnout. but hey! at least my winter break is close teehee. txt is here to help me with my delulu and ALSO I'M SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT COMEBACK, I FEEL LIKE IT'S GOING TO BE BIG. this work is part of our moa net here on tumblr, you should check it out! @onedreamnet.

warnings and tags: sfw content • ot5!separate x reader • fem!reader in mind • fluff • domestic txt • est. relationship • the boys are so soft here i want to cuddle them • one kissy kiss scene on taehyun's.

word count: 3.1k (500~700 per member).

my kpop masterlist: here.

★˚๑🎐％﹒choi yeonjun﹕ᘏᘏ୭₊˚

the duality drives you insane.

in public — on stage, in photos, under the lights — he’s confident in a way that borders on unfair. head tilted, eyes half-lidded, body moving like he owns the air around him. no hesitation. no nerves. just pure, deliberate charisma.

but offstage?

you catch him sulking in the kitchen because he dropped his dumpling on the floor and “no one will ever understand that kind of grief.”

you’ve learned his patterns by now.

the morning of a performance, he’s quiet. not because he’s nervous — not exactly — but because he’s already thinking about the camera angles. the formations. the fans. the five-second part where he gets to smirk like a villain and cause cardiac arrest on a national scale.

you sip your coffee across from him in the early morning silence. he’s still in pajama pants, hair pushed back with a headband, eyes unfocused as he mumbles his lines under his breath between bites of toast.

“you’re going to burn a hole through the table,” you say softly.

he looks up, blinking. “was i being weird again?”

you nod.

he smiles.

and when he gets up, he kisses your forehead like it’s the one part of him not too busy to love.

later, you visit the music show set.

he’s already in full styling when you arrive — velvet jacket, smoky liner, lip tint sharp enough to cut. he looks nothing like the boy who fell asleep face down on your laundry pile two nights ago.

“don’t look at me like that,” he says as you approach. “you’re going to make me trip on stage.”

you hold up the bag you brought. “you forgot your vitamins.”

he blinks. you raise a brow.

he pouts.

“thank you, baby,” he says, voice soft and dramatic all at once, like he’s the main character in a romance film. he holds your hand for half a second too long. “will you cheer for me?”

you smirk. “only if you wink during your center part.”

“that’s illegal.”

“do it.”

he does.

after the show, you find him sitting on a folding chair in the corner of the dressing room, head tipped back, chest rising and falling with exertion.

you crouch beside him, hands gently brushing his thighs. “hey.”

his eyes flutter open. “did i do okay?”

you almost laugh. “you’re joking, right?”

he smiles sleepily. “just wanted to hear you say it.”

you press a kiss to his shoulder. “you killed it.”

he leans into your touch, the heat of performance slowly melting into something tender.

“can we go home?” he murmurs.

“you still have a fan call.”

he groans, flopping dramatically. “they don’t let me rest.”

“i’ll wait,” you say. “we’ll eat after.”

his eyes light up. “can i pick the place?”

you roll your eyes. “you always do.”

that night, you fall asleep with him tucked into your side — his hair damp from a late shower, his breathing slow, one arm curled around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

he always wants to be babied after a stage. wants back rubs and snacks and quiet praise whispered into his hair.

“you were perfect,” you murmur against his temple, fingers tracing his spine. “i’m proud of you.”

he exhales, almost asleep now, and whispers:

“you make it all feel worth it.”

and you hold him a little tighter.

★˚๑🎐％﹒choi soobin﹕ᘏᘏ୭₊˚

you didn’t expect soobin to be this… domestic.

the first time he spends the night at your place after promotions end, he shows up at your door with a tub of strawberries, three different types of cereal, and a full-size body pillow he carries like a briefcase. no suitcase, no overnight bag. just snacks and sleep gear.

“don’t judge,” he says, stepping out of his shoes. “my brain is too tired to pack properly.”

he immediately lies down on your floor like his bones have dissolved. doesn’t even make it to the bed. you poke him with your foot. “you good?”

“i live here now,” he mumbles.

being with soobin means you never know what version of him you’re going to get.

sometimes he’s the shy, blushing leader who asks “can i hold your hand?” even after months of dating. other times he wraps himself around you on the couch like a weighted blanket and says “you’re mine now” while chewing crackers like a menace.

he kisses the top of your head when he’s proud. gives you a thumbs up when he’s too shy to say “you look beautiful.” and tries to act cool when he walks into a door frame because he still forgets how tall he is.

idol life with soobin is not as glamorous as you thought.

he practices so hard his neck sounds like bubble wrap when he turns it. sometimes you massage his shoulders while he’s half-asleep on your lap and he lets out a noise so pained you almost cry laughing.

he loses his phone in the fridge. he forgets to eat. he falls asleep mid-conversation, still holding his chopsticks, because rehearsals went until 2am. and you tuck him in, clean up, and never say a word.

when he wakes up the next morning, guilt in his eyes, you just hand him a warm can of coffee and say, “don’t even start.”

he hugs you for five full minutes.

when you visit him on set, he pretends not to notice you at first. just nods politely, like you’re staff. until you pass by his chair and whisper, “your mic pack is crooked.”

then he turns pink. very pink. and immediately fixes his posture. his members don’t say a word—but they’re smirking. especially beomgyu.

later, during a break, he sneaks over to where you’re sitting behind the monitors and plops down beside you with a sigh.

“missed you,” he whispers, forehead bumping your shoulder.

you pull out a protein bar. he lights up like a golden retriever. “you know me so well.”

“you only like this one because it tastes like cookies.”

“exactly. healthy cookies. it’s good for my image.”

you raise a brow. “your image?”

he leans in, voice low and teasing. “you mean my boyfriend image? the one where i’m tall, sweet, and snack-efficient?”

on tour, he texts you only when it’s quiet.

after the stages, the chaos, the screaming fans and interviews, he always finds a few minutes in the hotel room to send you something real.

sometimes it’s a photo of the ceiling with “i wish you were here.” sometimes it’s “what if we just lived in a cabin and raised rabbits.” sometimes it’s just “i’m tired. but i love you.”

you never pressure him to call. you know his body hurts. you know the silence is sacred after giving so much of himself away.

so you send back things like “drink water, stretch your legs, think about my face.” and he replies with a sleepy selfie and a peace sign.

he gets back after two weeks on the road and the first thing he says when you open the door is:

“do you still have the cereal i left here?”

you do. and he kisses your cheek like it’s the biggest act of devotion he’s capable of.

★˚๑🎐％﹒choi beomgyu﹕ᘏᘏ୭₊˚

dating beomgyu is like having a cat that bullies you all day but sleeps curled into your side every night.

he says things like “you’re obsessed with me” when you ask if he’s eaten, and then posts your shared playlist on his story with no caption. he makes fun of your hair when you wake up, then ties his hoodie around your waist if you ever mention feeling self-conscious.

he flirts like he’s joking, but stares like he means it.

the first time you visit his dorm (unofficially, when the members are out), he spends the entire afternoon pretending he doesn’t care.

“this place is nothing special,” he says while literally dusting the keyboard of his PC with a microfiber cloth. “i didn’t clean for you,” he adds, minutes after you catch him color-coding his sock drawer. “and that candle was already lit. it’s not for ambience or anything.”

you raise a brow. “is that… a cheese board?”

“shut up.”

idol life with beomgyu is unpredictable. one day he’s writing songs with raw vulnerability. the next he’s sticking googly eyes on the studio whiteboard and pretending they’re his A&R team.

you’ve seen both versions.

you’ve seen him hold a guitar like it’s a shield. you’ve seen him nearly cry because a take wasn’t perfect. you’ve seen him rip his in-ears out after a recording and say, voice flat: “i’m not good enough.”

you sat with him on the floor, forehead to his shoulder, and said nothing.

he doesn’t need cheering up. he just needs to know you’re there.

later, when he’s back in his element, screaming about a pizza discount code, he throws himself onto your lap and says, “you always bring me luck. you know that, right?”

he texts you like a menace.

🧍‍♂️: i saw a dog today and thought of u 🧍‍♂️: but in a cute way 🧍‍♂️: actually nvm i take it back 🧍‍♂️: are you free tmrw or do you hate me

he also sends you voice memos where he sings badly on purpose just to make you laugh.

but sometimes, right before bed, he’ll send a 12-second clip of a guitar riff he’s working on. no words. just sound. soft, warm, intimate.

you save every single one.

when you visit him backstage during promotions, he tries to act unfazed—but his entire face lights up when he spots you. he’s mid-hair touch-up, blush still fresh on his cheeks, mic taped to his jaw.

“you came,” he says like he didn’t remind you of the schedule twice and send a location pin.

you hand him a snack. he looks at it like it’s priceless. “you get me.”

“it’s literally just a peach tea.”

“and yet… from your hand?”

you roll your eyes. but when he walks back to the dressing room, he takes the tea with him. drinks it in every behind-the-scenes video. holds it like it’s good luck.

you don’t realize how much he talks about you until taehyun tells you, deadpan: “if i hear one more ‘my baby did this cute thing’ story i’m blocking him.”

“you’re just jealous,” beomgyu says. “my baby has rizz.”

he calls you that too—my baby. unironically. constantly. even in front of staff.

but then you catch him watching fancams of you (he took them himself) on the couch, face soft and unguarded, and he quickly shuts the screen. “wasn’t even watching anything,” he lies.

you don’t bring it up.

he buys you matching keychains. he “accidentally” leaves a stuffed animal on your bed. he begs you to stream his comeback and then says “actually don’t, it’s cringe,” even though he secretly checks if you listened.

he pulls you onto his lap when you’re sitting too far. he tucks your hair behind your ear when you’re ranting. and when you cry—really cry—he doesn’t joke. doesn’t speak.

he just wraps his arms around you and says, “i’ve got you, baby.”

and for once, you believe him completely.

★˚๑🎐％﹒kang taehyun﹕ᘏᘏ୭₊˚

you don’t remember when exactly it happened, but somewhere along the way, you started treating taehyun like gravity.

he doesn’t ask for your attention — doesn’t need to. he’s just there. solid, steady, magnetic. he listens more than he talks, watches more than he reacts, and loves in the way most people overlook — in water bottles handed to you without a word, phone batteries at 78% because he charged them while you slept, and texts that say “lock your door tonight. i saw the news.”

he doesn’t say “i love you” that often. but he acts like it constantly.

he wakes up at 6am even when he doesn’t have schedules. works out in silence. tracks his reps on a crumpled post-it you keep trying to replace with an app. tells you, deadpan, “the gym is my therapy,” and then does squats to BLACKPINK like it’s nothing.

and he’s hot. obviously. but not in the loud, performative way — more in the how is your side profile even legal way.

he ties his hair back and opens water bottles with one hand. stares at contracts on his laptop like he’s about to buy out the company. walks around shirtless after practice like it’s your fault for looking.

you once called him “CEO boyfriend” as a joke. now he uses it to get his way.

“i can’t carry your groceries today,” you mutter. “would a ceo let you lift things?” “…you’re holding an iced americano with two straws.” “exactly. for us.”

idol taehyun is a different beast.

you see it when you visit the studio — the switch. he nods at staff, reviews choreography videos, calls out adjustments to their stage formations like a perfectionist who knows he’s right. and he is. he always is.

he’s not cold. just focused. a little intimidating.

okay, a lot.

you sit in the back, thumbing your phone, and watch him work like he was born for it. no wasted words. no wasted moves. the others tease him for being a robot, but you know the truth.

he just doesn’t half-ass anything.

and that includes you.

he’s the kind of boyfriend who remembers your schedule better than you do. who texts “wear a jacket” before the weather even shifts. who watches your reactions when you eat something new because he wants to know if you like it before you say anything.

he brings you home vitamin packets and high-protein snacks. then lies with his head in your lap for two hours while you scroll through reels and read fan comments out loud. he pretends he doesn’t care. but every time you read one that says “taehyun’s the boyfriend type fr,” he smiles. just a little.

after performances, he’s quiet.

not in a moody way. just… cooling off. energy still simmering under his skin. you help him undo his mic tape. he watches your hands like they’re fragile things, even though you’re tugging pretty hard.

“good show,” you murmur.

he shrugs. “i messed up the angle on the chorus.”

you raise a brow. “literally no one noticed.”

he looks at you then — really looks at you — and it’s like the whole room stills.

“you did,” he says. softly. honestly.

your breath catches. “i’m not a critic.”

“you’re my person,” he replies. “it matters.”

he doesn’t do PDA in front of staff. never kisses you in dressing rooms. rarely even holds your hand where others can see. but every now and then — in the hallway, behind the black curtain before a show, in the elevator after press — he’ll lean down and whisper, “come here.”

and when he kisses you?

it’s slow. confident. the kind of kiss that says i’m not afraid of anyone knowing you’re mine — i just like keeping it between us.

when he’s away, he never says “i miss you.” he says things like:

“don’t forget to eat protein.” “i’ll call after the shoot.” “send me a picture. just you. no filters.”

and when he comes back?

he pulls you into his arms like he never wants to let go. buries his face in your neck. sighs like home is finally real.

“missed you,” he says, once. “i know,” you say back. and he smiles.

★˚๑🎐％﹒huening kai﹕ᘏᘏ୭₊˚

you realize you love him the day he apologizes for looking at you too long.

“sorry,” he mumbles. “i didn’t mean to stare.”

you’re sitting across from each other, legs tangled under the kotatsu table. his hoodie sleeves are pulled over his palms. his cheeks are pink. and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon and forgot to tell anyone.

you blink. “kai,” you say, gently. “you’re allowed to look.”

he shrinks a little, but he nods.

he doesn’t know what to do with attention — not really. not when it’s personal. not when it’s you.

you’ve heard it in passing before — in interviews, old livestreams, articles that fans have archived and translated — that kai has always been quietly unsure about his looks.

it doesn’t make sense to you. he’s so striking in person it almost hurts. luminous eyes. impossible bone structure. a smile that feels like finding your favorite song after a bad day.

but insecurity isn’t about logic. and kai isn’t the kind of person who wants praise just to hear it.

he wants to feel seen.

you learn how to love him in his language.

you send voice notes when he’s on tour — your voice soft, half-asleep, saying “i’m proud of you.”

you leave sticky notes in his backpack with doodles and stupid puns and reminders to stretch.

you call him pretty only when no one else is around. and he smiles every time like he’s hearing it for the first time.

his love language?

unlabeled. sideways. soft.

he leaves you little things: guitar picks in your coat pocket (“that one’s lucky”), a folded napkin with your name written in tiny hearts and a playlist titled “for when it rains but you still have to smile”

he doesn’t like big declarations. but he’ll hug you from behind when you’re brushing your teeth. hum into your neck when you’re washing dishes. whisper “i dreamed about you again” like he’s sharing a secret.

and then there’s the stage.

you never get used to that version of him — the one with a guitar strapped across his chest, a reed in his mouth, eyes glittering under the lights.

it’s not that he becomes someone else. it’s more like he steps into himself.

his body moves differently. his presence shifts. there’s this subtle confidence — not arrogant, just rooted. he plants his feet. commands the space. owns the note. and you, watching from the side curtain or through a screen, forget to breathe.

he finishes with the reed between his lips, hair slicked to his temples, and walks off like he didn’t just rearrange the earth’s axis.

you stare at him, stunned.

he looks back at you and says, in the softest voice:

“did i look weird?”

when he comes home, he doesn’t talk much. he curls into you on the couch, hoodie zipped all the way up, and plays chords on an unplugged electric guitar while you read. every once in a while, he’ll glance up — make a face — and go back to playing.

sometimes he lets you sit in his lap while he composes. sometimes he dozes off mid-layer, one headphone in, fingers still resting on the frets.

you kiss his forehead and tuck a blanket over him. he murmurs something you don’t catch. and you think — if this is love, then it’s the kind that doesn’t need to shout.

check out more works like this on here @onedreamnet !

author's note: first time writing for other members except soobin kinda nervous lol. send me a request • my masterpost

[loveyouprongs]

bringing up baby part 5

remus lupin x whimsical fem!reader | Buttoned-up grad student Remus Lupin has the rare chance to work under one of the top scholars in the country. But his carefully laid plans keep getting derailed by the scholar's free-spirited whirlwind of a daughter who seems determined to unravel both his plans and his sanity.

upcoming content: fluff, alcohol mention, food mention, minor fire

authors note: part 5 baby!!! i really tried to take it back to the beginning with their dynamic! this was so much fun to write!!! i hope you all love it :")

word count: 3.6k

series masterlist | masterlist

tagging (pls send me an ask to be added or taken off): @wrenisrad @daydreamandforget @jamesweather @oldhollywoodniall @sillygirlantics @shipwreckedlor @slutfortheblog @rulesareshadesofgrey @lettertovera @knew-better-forever-girl-three @siriusement @detmarmalade @turnmeintoaflower @soulshaped @lilians17 @rhettsluvr

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Sirius let out a low whistle from the living room, not even having to look back to know that Remus was scurrying around their kitchen like a man on the brink of collapse.

“How’s it going, Rem?” James asked overly enthusiastically, and it reminded Remus of how his primary school teacher would talk to him when he would present a craft that was just a mess of glue and ripped up construction paper.

Remus looked up at him, hands on his hips, which only smeared more tomato sauce onto his trousers. It had already splattered across his shirt while he was stirring, and when he’d tried switching to the blender, the lid popped off and sprayed sauce everywhere. He panicked and tried to cover the top with his hands, which only left the sauce coating his arms and dripping down to his elbows.

Egg and breadcrumbs were stuck in his hair from when he’d dragged his hands through it in a fit of frustration, completely forgetting they were still coated in gunk. And the final straw was when the oil in the frying pan snapped with a hiss and spit directly into his eyes.

“How’s it going? Pretty bad, Prongs! Pretty bad!”

“Don’t say that!”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, “Mate, look at him!”

“Alright, that’s it-”

“Don’t listen to Sirius,” James began, “i-it’s not as bad as you think it is!”

Any other time Remus would’ve appreciated his friend’s never ending support, but considering the fact that you were supposed to arrive for dinner in less than an hour and there was no food he wasn’t exactly in the mood.

“Oh, shut up!” Remus groaned, tossing the spoon into the sink with a loud clatter.

“The plan was to impress her. You know, look like a functioning adult who can cook a nice meal and use an oven! I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face and smearing sauce across his cheek.

Sirius wandered into the kitchen, arms crossed as he looked down into the surrendered pot. “Was this the egg thing or the pasta thing?”

“Yes,” Remus deadpanned.

Sirius gave it a slow stir, then quickly pulled back. “Alright, yeah, that’s- don’t serve that.”

Remus sighed. “I should just cancel.”

“No, you are not bailing,” James said firmly, steering him away from the stove before he could injure himself further. “You’re just overwhelmed. You always get like this when you care.”

“Which is funny,” Sirius added, “because you clearly do. Like, a lot.”

“Out. Both of you,” Remus snapped, pointing to the living room. “You’re not helping.”

“On the contrary,” Sirius said, already backing away with a grin, “I personally think we’re doing great.”

“Just ignore, Pads, he’s being annoying,”

“Oi!”

“and just clean up and start again, yeah? Come on Remus, you know how to make pasta. Just try one more time.”

Remus took a look at the sauce-covered blender, the trail of breadcrumbs across the counter, the smoking pan, and the slightly crooked stack of plates he’d meant to set. The whole scene seemed beyond repair.

And his defeat must have shown on his face because Sirius sighed and rested his hand on his friend’s back. “Listen Moons, think about who you’re seeing, yeah?”

“What do you mean by that?” Remus asked, a tad too defensive. He was less careful with hiding how he felt about you these days.

“I mean, do you really think she’s going to care about any of this? You could go put on your Gandalf costume and she wouldn’t care-”

“I don’t still have that.” Remus said, stiffly and both James and Remus gave him matching looks that they weren’t buying it.

“Yes you do. But, she wouldn’t care, hell, she’d probably prefer it, yeah? She’s fun like that!”

“Exactly Rem, you’ve finally got what you wanted, just have fun with it, okay?” James added.

“Yeah,” he sighed, and then again, with less doom and more determination, “yeah, yeah, you’re right. She’ll be here soon. And that’s enough.”

Sirius grinned. “That’s the spirit! Now go wash your face, and you have to change your clothes, you look like a butcher just back from the slaughter, dear GOD!”

“Alright, just get out!”

“Let us know when we can come back, if at all,” James quipped as he put on his jacket, waggling his eyebrows.

“Bye!”

Remus stepped out of the shower, freshly scrubbed and finally free of tomato splatter, breadcrumbs, and shame. A clean pair of trousers and a soft jumper were laid out for him on the couch, and the ingredients he hadn’t ruined were now neatly lined up on the kitchen counter, like little soldiers ready for round two.

He’d just begun to chop the tomatoes when there was a rhythmic knock on his front door.

Remus froze. His eyes darted to the clock on the wall. Eight o’clock. On the dot.

“This can’t be happening.”

He scrambled, hopping on one foot as he yanked on his jumper and fumbled to pull up his slacks. “Um! One second!” he called out, voice slightly strangled as he tripped over his own trainers on the floor.

“Remmy! It’s me!” You sang through the door.

“I- I know, love, I’m, oh damnit,” he swore under his breath, trying to not fall flat on his face as his long legs got tangled in his pants.

His hair was still damp and sticking up at odd angles, but he made it to the door in one piece.

He swung it open, slightly out of breath.

And there you were.

Remus looked down at you as the hall light tinged you in an orange glow. You donned a faded orange flowy dress, decorated in lavender stalks. A long necklace trailed between your torso, golden charms of shamrocks, berries, and stars hung off it. You looked like a comet that dropped from the sky and right there on his doorstep.

He blinked at you, a little dazed. “You’re early,” he said, though it wasn’t true. You were right on time. He was just very, very not ready.

You tilted your head with a smile, taking in the man before you. His sweater looked so soft you wanted to forgo dinner all together and just rest your head on his chest, and his sandy hair fell just before his rich eyes, and his neck was flushed from his soft, panthing breaths.

“You okay?” You asked softly.

“Me? Yes! Yes, totally,” he said, stepping aside to let you in. “Please, come in! Sorry.”

You giggled lightly, biting your lip at how nervous he was. Even though these past two weeks had been filled with the two of you kissing in corners, and whispering jokes and stories to each other over the phone late at night, he still reminded you of the first time you met, and how you thought you couldn’t wait to ruin him.

You walked past him, slipping off your shoes and taking in the scene with bright eyes. The apartment was tidy enough, candles flickering on the coffee table, the stack of plates now somewhat centered—but the dining table was bare, and there was a conspicuous lack of food.

Your eyes landed on the counter, where ingredients sat untouched beside a suspiciously shiny blender that looked like it had recently been hosed down.

“Oh,” you said, blinking. “Nothing’s cooking yet?”

Remus ran a hand through his still-damp hair, only making it worse. “Right, about that—”

You gasped.

“What, what, what?” Remus asked, panicked.

“Oh my god! Are we going to cook together!”

Remus hesitated. “Is… is that something that sounds fun to y-”

“YES!” You exclaimed, cutting him off and throwing your arms around him.

An oomf escaped him as your bodies collided. “Well then, good thing that was my plan all along, isn’t it.”

“What?”

“Nothing! Let’s get started, shall we?”

You clapped your hands and Remus swore he saw your shoulders vibrate a little.

“Remus, this is adorable!”

He blinked again. “It is?”

“Obviously,” you said, already heading toward the kitchen and rolling up your sleeves. “You get to show off your domestic skills and I get to boss you around. It’s perfect.”

Remus laughed, a wave of happiness all day washing over him for the first time all day. “My domestic skills?”

“Well yeah! I have to see how much your dowry should be. Cooking is worth at least ten goats!.”

“Ten?” Remus repeated, reaching for a chopping board. “That’s steep.”

“Well, I’d say five for personality alone, but you haven’t even chopped an onion yet.”

“I’m being bartered for livestock and you haven’t even seen my knife skills,” he said, sliding her a look.

“Go on then, show me,” you challenged, nudging the onion toward him.

Remus smirked and began to peel. “You know,” he said as he worked, “in some medieval Welsh traditions, dowries included things like wool cloaks and cows, not goats.”

“Wool cloaks? That’s so strange! Like, here’s my child and also a cape.”

Remus laughed, and decided not to comment on the fact that you were so excited about cooking with him, yet now you sat on the counter, a glass of fizzy strawberry wine in your hand. “Essentially, yes. The cloaks were a sign of status. And cows, obviously, meant wealth. Milk, meat, land labor and the like.”

“That’s so interesting that you know that, Remmy. What else?” You asked, popping a cube of cheese in your mouth. Watching him move around his kitchen, 

Remus brightened, clearly thrilled by the interest. “Well, it depended on the region, but there were all sorts of specifics. Like, in some cases, the number of cows a woman brought into the marriage could determine how much legal say she had in household disputes. And the cloaks—those weren’t just practical, they were dyed specific colors to represent family status. Deep blue was especially prized, because the dye was expensive to make.”

“Wow,” you said, genuinely. “So she’d walk in like, ‘I brought you my finest cow and also I’m wearing blue, so you better listen to me’?”

He laughed. “In a way, yes. Oh! And there was something called the amber, stir this for me, love? A kind of fee paid to the lord when a woman married. It was meant to symbolize her transition from one household to another, but in practice it was basically just a tax.”

You nodded, stirring the sauce absentmindedly. “Fascinating. Do you think anyone ever said no to the girl but kept the cow?”

Remus blinked. “What?”

“I’m just saying, if she brought a really nice cow—like top-tier, shiny coat, good attitude—I feel like someone might’ve gone, ‘No thank you to the marriage, but I’ll be keeping the cow.”

“Wh—no, that’s—what are you talking about?”

“I’m just curious about the logistics. Would there be a court for that? Like ‘Your Honor, I already emotionally bonded with the cow. I named her. She knows my scent!”

Remus dropped the spoon on the counter. “I’m trying to tell you about medieval economics and you’re running off with some custody battle over a cow!”

You beamed. “You love it, Mr. Lupin”

He narrowed his eyes at you, trying not to smile. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, but now you’re picturing the cow in a little witness box, aren’t you?”

Remus shook his head, reaching for the pasta. “Absolutely not. And she’s wearing blue, too, isn’t she?”

You gasped. “You are picturing it!”

He sighed through a grin. “We are never getting through this dinner.”

Before he could say anything else, you hopped down from the counter, your bare feet making a soft sound against the tile as you stepped toward him, tilting your head like you were studying something behind his eyes.

“I don’t really care if we do,” you said airily, blinking up at him. “Your eyes look like tea left out in the sun. Did you know that?”

Remus blinked, ignoring your question. “What? What do you mean you don’t care? We’ve already started cooking! I planned this!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, he got hung up so easily. 

You reached out and ran your fingers lightly over the edge of his sleeve, grounding him and also entirely ungrounding him. “I mean, I’d still be happy even if all we had was… I don’t know, burnt toast or something.” How much longer would you two have to talk before he kissed you?!

Remus stared at you like you’d spoken in Parseltongue. “Why would we have burnt toast?”

“You’re missing the point.”

“I made a whole menu!”

You smiled, stepping a little closer. “And I think you’re lovely. With or without your timeline.”

Remus let out a breath that hitched somewhere halfway between exasperation and surrender. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“No,” you said sweetly, “I’m trying to kiss you.”

“Oh,” he breathed, very intelligently. “Well. In that case—”

And you were finally kissing again, smiling against his mouth as he pulled you in with more confidence this time. Your hands wound into his shirt and his fingers found the small of your back, gripping you in a way that made electricity shoot up your legs.

Lost in each other, and Remus growing rapidly fond of the honey lipgloss you wore, neither of you noticed the slow creep of smoke of the dish towel beginning to curl on the burner.

Remus leaned into you, his hips slowly pushing yours against the counter, with all the intention of pushing you back atop it, his mind clear of anything else but your warm body under his. His hands fumbled at your waist—warm, careful—before one reached out to steady himself on the counter behind you.

Clink.

His fingers knocked into the half-full bottle of white wine, sending it teetering, then tipping.

You both barely had time to react before it spilled, the liquid splashing across the burner where the dishtowel had already begun to smoke.

WHOOSH.

A sudden rush of flame flared to life, licking up the side of the stovetop and devouring the corner of the towel in seconds.

“Shit-!” Remus jumped back.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, scrambling for the dishcloth, but it was already half blackened.

“No, don’t touch it!” He grabbed a nearby pot lid and tried to smother the flame. It only made the fire sputter angrily, then grow.

“Why is it doing that?!”

“I don’t know!” Remus yelled, waving a wooden spoon helplessly.

Remus darted for the nearest pan, fumbling to get it under the tap.

But the second his fingers wrapped around the metal handle, 

“Shit!” he yelped, yanking his hand back like it had stung him. Which, to be fair, it had.

Right then, the smoke detector let out a piercing shriek overhead. From outside the door, a rising murmur began, footsteps, voices, the slam of a door. Then another. Then another. The boys’ building was quite small, only 30 flats or so, so the smoke quickly alerted everyone.

“Remus…” you said carefully, watching the smoke coil toward the ceiling. “I think we have to go.”

He whipped around to face you, a little wild-eyed. “Just wait- wait, one second-!”

Before you could argue, he bolted into the hallway, nearly tripping, as he disappeared around the corner. You stood frozen, blinking against the sting in your eyes and nose, until he reappeared, clutching a bright red fire extinguisher.

With a hiss and a pathetic wheeze, the flames gave up. The pan was scorched, the towel was history, and the alcohol bottle had rolled somewhere under the fridge—but the kitchen was, technically, no longer on fire.

You stared.

Remus coughed once, setting the extinguisher on the ground with a wheeze of his own.

“Alright,” he said, blinking through the fog. “Crisis managed.”

But the alarm was still blaring overhead, and out the window, you heard the low, ominous wail of a fire truck approaching.

You gave him a flat look. “Remus.”

“I know,” he groaned. “We still have to evacuate.”

He reached for your hand without thinking, lacing your fingers together as the two of you made your way toward the door. The hall outside was already filled with neighbors filing out, most of them in pajamas, one in a towel, and someone else carrying what looked like a fish tank.

“Lovely,” Remus muttered.

You studied the side of his face as he led you both down the stairs and through his neighbors. The carefree smile that had graced his face all evening had now morphed into a disgruntled frown, his eyebrows furrowed harshly and his shoulders drooped. Your heart ached in your chest, having gotten so used to loved-up Remus, who would giggle when your fingers trailed under his shirt, just above his waistband. You hated seeing him so put out.

When you stepped outside, blinking in the flashing red lights, the usual crew was already gathered—Mrs. Ellison from 3A with her twin chihuahuas, the very stressed man from 1C holding two laptops and a half-eaten bowl of cereal, and a mom with her son who was crying his eyes out over clearly being woken up. 

Remus stared at everyone, his face looking like a puppy that’s just been kicked. And that just wouldn’t do.

“Come on, Rem!” you said, tugging gently on his hand.

He blinked as you guided him away from the cluster of blinking lights and confused neighbors and over to the brick wall lining the front of the building. You dropped down first, tugging him down beside you, and he followed with a tired sigh, knees folding up as he leaned back against the cool stone.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just stared straight ahead at the firetruck with a dazed look on his face, like he wasn’t entirely convinced this wasn’t still part of some stress dream.

Then he let out a long breath. “I’m so sorry.”

You turned to him, frowning. “What? Why?”

“Oh, come on,” he muttered, tipping his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. “This was a disaster. I wanted tonight to be nice.” His arms rested on his knees, his eyes focused on the dirty sidewalk.

“It was nice!”

Remus snorted, but it was a quiet, sad sound. “You deserved better than this.”

You shifted to face him more fully, your knee knocking gently against his. “Hey. Look at me.”

He hesitated before opening his eyes.

“I had fun,” you said simply, voice soft but certain. “You opened the door looking like you just survived a food fight. We made a mess, you gave me a very passionate speech about Celtic cattle cloaks, we almost died kissing! Do you know how romantic that is?”

Remus gave a choked laugh.

“And, I haven’t stopped smiling since I got here. I like you, Remus.”

His eyes searched your face for a long moment. And then, finally, that sweet, lopsided smile returned.

“You like me even though I set things on fire?”

“I especially like you because you set things on fire!”

That earned a real laugh, one that shook his shoulders and softened every sharp line on his face. He leaned his head against yours and squeezed your hand.

“You’re the weirdest person I’ve ever met,” he murmured.

Before you could respond, a loud, “REMUS!” echoed from down the block.

You both turned to see James sprinting toward you, hair flying, eyes wild.

“Oh no,” Remus muttered.

“REMUS ARE YOU OKAY!?” James shouted again, skidding to his knees dramatically in front of him and throwing his arms around his shoulders. “I swear to God, if you died, I would never forgive you!”

“I’m fine, James, bloody hell,” Remus groaned, patting him stiffly on the back. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” James sniffled. “You scared me! What happened?”

Sirius strolled up a few moments later, hands in his pockets, eyes flicking to the flashing lights behind you. “You okay, doll?” he asked you casually, like this was any ordinary evening.

You grinned. “I’m great! Who knew Rem was such a bad boy?”

“Ha! You’re responsible for this, Moony? No fucking way.”

“It was just a kitchen fire. And we put it out before the fire truck got here.”

“With what? The fire extinguisher?” James asked, still breathing heavily.

“Of course,” Remus rolled his eyes.

“Good! Good! And you didn’t have any trouble with it like last time?”

“Prongs!” Remus hissed under his breath.

“What happened last time?” You asked.

“Nothing-” Remus started.

“I made us all practice using it during one of our roommate meetings, and Remus had the nozzle facing himself by accident,” James said, cupping Remus’ head.

Remus just buried his face in his hands. “I hate all of you.”

“I’ve been so scared ever since!”

“James,” Sirius winced, this was getting too embarrassing for Remus, even for him.

“But look at how he held his own!!” James cried, shaking Remus by the shoulders.

“He had a lot to drink at the pub,” Sirius added dryly.

James threw his hands up. “Let’s go back! All four of us!”

You jumped up, “I would love that! Remus and I still haven’t had dinner!”

“This is perfect!” James grinned. “I can get more Sangrias!”

Sirius turned, already walking. “If we’re not ordering cheesy chips, I’m not coming.”

The four of you began heading down the street, still lit red from the lights behind you.

“I never thought our first date would be a pub dinner,” Remus murmured beside you, leaning in close enough that your arms brushed.

You looked up at him with a mischievous smile, “Let’s make a scene there too!”

<- part four

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

no doubt!jakeyn are my fav cuties. Could you please write a little something about the first time Jake had to leave for tour after they started dating? bonus points if it’s right after he said I love you for the first time just to throw the brick a little harder.

Pls👉🏼👈🏼

HIIIII heheh thank uuuu jakeyn nation rise up fr <3 and omg this one is PAIN . but i do love how realistic this is!!! switched it up a bit so it's more so enha leaving for only a monthish—like when they had to tour in japan (only bc it makes more sense following the nodoubt!universe timeline LOL) hope you like it <333 also this one made me wanna cry. wow i need a jake so bad guys . & here's a little throwback to when jake tells yn he loves her for the first time :')))

──── EVERY TIME ZONE ✈️ 💌 ☁️ ↳ requested // part of the no doubt series !

You’re trying so hard to be good about it. 

Trying to smile, trying to joke—trying to hold onto that soft, golden feeling that wraps around you both when you’re with one another. 

Even if your boyfriend is currently standing in front of you at the airport. Hoodie up, suitcase in hand, eyes locked on yours like he’s not entirely sure how to walk away. 

Jake reaches for your hand again, intertwining your fingers. Even though it’s the fifth time he’s done it in the last ten minutes. 

“I’m chill. I’m cool. Normal.” His voice is low, like he’s trying to convince himself more than you, hands squeezing yours a little too tight. 

You raise a brow, glancing down, “I think my fingers are about to fall off, Jake.” 

He blinks. Looks down at your hands. Doesn’t loosen his grip. 

“Okay, well. Maybe a little less cool.” 

You giggle—but it breaks halfway through. 

Jake’s smile falters. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he says gently, his arms moving up your arms, rubbing up and down instinctively.

You nod. 

Because you believe him. That’s not the hard part. 

The hard part is that you just got him. 

Not just as yours—he’s always been yours. But in this deeper way. 

In the way his words from just a few nights ago still echo in your chest.

I love you. 

In the way he softly whispered it to you for the first time. 

And now he’s leaving. 

You press your lips together, trying to fight off the emotions, “I feel like…I feel like I barely got to live in it.” 

Jake tilts his head, stepping closer, his hands still moving up and down your arms absentmindedly, “Live in what?” 

“This,” you whisper, “Us. You loving me.” 

Jake’s expression crumples. In the softest, most devastating way. 

“Hey. Don’t say that.” 

You look up at him. He’s so close—you can feel the warmth of his breath. His hand lifts to your cheek, thumb brushing gently, softly along your skin like he’s memorizing you. 

And your heart aches. 

He swallows, then makes sure he’s really looking at you—

“I loved you yesterday.” His voice is thick, breath catching onto his words. “I love you today. I’ll love you every second I’m away, and I’ll love you the second I land back here a month from now. And every second after that, too.” 

You bite your lip, blinking fast. “You promise?” 

Jake nods, pulling you into his chest, arms curling around your shoulders as he tucks you into him perfectly. 

“I’d choose you in every city. Every time zone. Every night, every morning, every second.” 

You press your cheek to his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. Matching yours.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” you whisper, voice cracking slightly. 

“I already miss you,” he murmurs into your hair. “But this part’s temporary. You and me? We’re not.” 

You nod, eyes squeezing shut. 

And then Jake does what he does best, what he always does—he kisses you like it’s a promise. A map back home. 

And when he finally walks away—he doesn’t look back. 

Because he knows he doesn’t have to. 

You’re his home. 

And he’s already on his way back. 

no doubt m. list

tag list pt 1!: @bluxjun @ki2rins @why-did-i-just-do-this @favoritten @lovialymisc @xylatox @vivimura @leehsngs @puma-riki @lezzleeferguson-120 @enhaprettystars @laurradoesloveu @sievenderz @somuchdard @kristynaah @hinryh @ltfirecracker @lov4hoon @taeheexx @niyzu @chunkzdeluluwife @jakeflvrz @fangirl125reader @0429jw @dreamy-carat @yuons @thestarinstarbucks @miszes @llearlert @ppeachyttae @hoomin10 @teddybeartaetae @tanisha2060 @therealmrsbahng @beomgyu-bears @ikeulove @jiyeons-closet @youngheejay @wxnderingthoughts @fuevrois @soobundle1009 @isoobie @enhypenova @zoemeltigloos @lizdevorak @deluluscenarios @bloomiize @hasuyv @ijustwannareadstuff20 @heekolazz @dreamiestay @jakeyyyjakexoxo

[solarstranger]

CHAPTER 1 | I HOPE YOU SEE (RIGHT THROUGH ME)

w.c. 1.2k

tags. minors dni. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (23), some cussing (it's not bakugou's internal monologue if there aren't any), suicide-related deaths (see series synopsis for more details), discussions of suicide, canon-typical descriptions of violence

a/n. welcome to another series by yours truly!!!! i know i still have that body swap one in the queue, and while i am planning on working on that, this series' premise just spoke to me and i was emboldened to write it as soon as i could. i'm writing this as i go, though, so the posting schedule is likely gonna be erratic, but i promise i'll try to write this consistently. anyway, i'd absolutely love to hear what you think throughout the process, so please don't be a stranger and talk to me!

links. masterlist, ao3

Somehow, he’s wound up in the emergency room of Musutafu’s highly renowned Central Hospital.

Which, if he had the energy left to really think about it, is not particularly an unusual occurrence. He’s been here—and other similar hospitals—enough to have a general blueprint of the corridors etched in his mind, as well as the basic rules they shared and protocols that were strictly followed. Stuff like how phone calls are prohibited, fatigued doctors specializing in emergency medicine are perpetually present, and how—for a place supposedly and rightfully dubbed with the ‘emergency’ title—the staff sure don’t seem to have a whole lot of sense of urgency.

Although he supposes he’d rather have that than be in a room teeming with frantic energy. Maybe they’re doing it on purpose, actually, for the sake of the patients who get rolled in.

Except right now, he was not a patient.

He was technically not a guardian, either, though the disheveled-looking middle-aged man blatantly staring at him from a few rows up front is most definitely thinking otherwise.

Well, then.

Acutely aware of the unwanted attention, Bakugou shifts uncomfortably in his seat, wincing ever so slightly when the connected metal chairs to his right creak loudly with the motion. It doesn’t help that he’s still in his hero clothes—although he’s aware there’s no point in mulling over it now; after all, he didn’t exactly have the time to do a costume change with all the shit that went down.

Not that he’s exactly sure what that ‘shit’ even was.

It all happened too fast.

One minute, he was walking down his regular patrol route down Shizuoka’s famous tallest bridge—cursing the unbearable summer heat and the dehydration-induced headaches that it brought with it; the next, he was jumping off of it.

He even boosted himself with his quirk to aid gravity in his free fall, but to no avail.

Your body had already collided with the ground by the time he could grab your wrist.

The moments that passed after that are even more of a blur now. He doesn’t know how he did it, but after what seemed like an eternity of merely staring at your limp, bloody body, Bakugou was able to pull out his phone and call 119. The medics arrived shortly after, maybe in a span of five minutes, but to him it felt like more.

It took everything within him not to just haul your body and propel you to the nearest hospital.

Because if someone died under his watch…

“Mr. Dynamight?”

Bakugou startles, looking up from where he was blankly staring at his intertwined, scarred hands. At the sight of a white coat-clad woman, the pro-hero immediately stands up, nodding, turning to face the brunette with his full attention.

“Hi,” the doctor greets, “It’s come to my understanding that you’re the one who called in regarding Patient—” she trails off, looking down at her clipboard to double-check, before saying your name in a question. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” Bakugou rasps roughly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “Uh, yes, doc.”

The doctor nods. “Were you on patrol when you found her?”

Close, the voice in Bakugou’s head retorts without missing a beat. I saw her fucking jump.

Instead of saying all that out loud, however, the ash-blonde only nods wordlessly.

The woman hums. “Okay, then. Well, her parents are still on the way here, and normally we’d let them know first, but given the nature of your involvement and your occupation, I might as well inform you.”

Instantly, Bakugou finds himself bracing for what’s next.

The doctor presses her lips in a thin line.

“I’m sorry,” she starts, shaking her head solemnly. “She didn’t make it.”

Dead on arrival.

You were dead on arrival.

At least, that’s what the doctors told him when he pressed them for more. He couldn’t tell if they were hesitant about divulging further information about you aside from the basics or just simply in the dark themselves, seeing as how they only had your wallet that they found on your person to go from. Either way, Bakugou decided it didn’t matter as soon as an older couple burst through the doors of the emergency room—a good half hour later—whom he immediately identified as your parents.

Needless to say, he hightailed it out of there.

The last thing he needed was to be the unfortunate bearer of bad news, or worse, be recognized as the reason why their daughter is currently lying lifeless in one of the hospital’s private rooms.

After that, he couldn’t remember much of his actions, only that he somehow decided to head to the agency. The entire flight down to his office, he stuck his good ear out for any signs of ringing from his phone, which surprisingly—or unsurprisingly—didn’t come.

Which makes sense.

He’s heard stories before. Exchanged in hushed whispers back in the UA dormitory, and uttered in low voices in the agencies he worked at as a sidekick. About how suicide cases in the country are criminally underreported—not just because of the stigma surrounding the act, but because the police allegedly make it a point to conceal such cases, away from the media’s prying eyes and before it gets blown out of proportion by the public.

Hakamada told him it was most likely to prevent the occurrence of suicide clusters, to which Bakugou scoffed instinctively, granting him a reprimanding look from his mentor.

But really, could anyone blame him?

The idea seemed stupid then.

If he killed himself for whatever reason, he sure didn’t want his death to be treated as some sort of curse, talked about only when people think no one’s watching.

There’s nothing more pitiful than fading away without leaving a single trace, after all.

But now, as he sits in the quiet dark of his agency’s office—the building silent if not for the gentle whirring of his air conditioner—Bakugou finds himself oddly grateful.

Because…

Because.

He wouldn’t know what he’d do if he had to face the press about what just happened.

He’s not sure how long he sat spaced out in his office, but by the time he’s inserting his lone copy of his key into the door knob, it’s already two hours past midnight, and the exhaustion from the day’s events has finally made itself known in the form of muscle aches and a throbbing migraine.

Bakugou doesn’t try to fight the sigh of relief that wracks his body the second he hears the lock click, his movements automatic as he pushes the door open with his side, left hand reaching out in the dark until it lands on and presses against the switch.

As if on cue, light floods the living room slash kitchen of Bakugou’s apartment unit, a sight so mundanely familiar that he doesn’t even blink at first.

Just—drags his aching feet towards the foyer where he toes off his sneakers and drops his duffel bag, which he swears he’ll collect the first thing tomorrow morning.

But then that’s when it happens.

Bakugou barely catches it—the movement at the corner of his eye—but he does.

And when he does—glance to look at it—he blanches.

Because sitting on his sofa is no other than a ghost.

˗ˏˋ while likes are appreciated, they don’t do much on tumblr! if you want to support me and writers in general, reblogs, replies, and tags are the way to go. feel free to drop an ask, too—i’d love to chat. have a nice day! ´ˎ

[ludrift]

❝ SEMI-CHARMED LIFE. ❞ s. geto.

TRACK TWO . . . "this charming man"

𝄞 "i would go out tonight, but i haven't got a stitch to wear." - the smiths.

synopsis . . . both you and your friends seem confused by suguru's sudden interactions with you. brushing it aside, you try to continue on with your life. until satoru forces you to go to their show, where suguru is the lead guitarist. not only does he occupy your thoughts, but that picture of him is still sitting in that special folder on your laptop.

contents . . . 18+ content, minors dni. fem! reader. non-canon compliant. high school au. skaterboy! suguru. 2006. fluff (ish). very very minor satoru x reader. suguru is a little awkward. satoru is giving mixed feelings?

a/n . . . hi! this might feel rushed but its bc i was trying to get this out to you guys as soon as possible. decided last minute to put them in a band bc its 2006 and they're grungey freaks? as always lmk what u think (and hit up the spotify playlist) wc: 2k

★ series masterlist

𝄞 playlist

tag list: open! comment to be added!

“But it was like, completely out of nowhere.” You say, your back on the mattress, head facing the ceiling. Lazy string lights hung from the walls, spanning across Shoko’s bedroom like a spiderweb.

“I mean, yeah. That is odd.” Shoko agrees, her fingers fiddling with the necklace that she was unsuccessfully trying to untangle. “But, maybe he just thought to introduce himself because you guys are in the same class now?”

You shake your head. “No, no. It was weirder than that.” You murmur, thinking back on the conversation you shared with Suguru this morning in photography. After that class, your whole day seemed to pass by in a blur, your mind scrambled. The conversation felt casual, but it also felt like it came out of nowhere. It was almost as if he had rehearsed the conversation before actually having it. You couldn’t tell whether that was a good thing or not. 

“He was like… I’ve seen you around with Shoko and Satoru before.” You scoff. “No fucking duh.” You roll your head to the side to look at Shoko. “I’ve literally only hung out with the two of you the entire time I’ve lived here.” You shrug, your fingers twirling in the end of your braid. “And then he was all like, oh I can help you with your shots and stuff but they’re really good.” You try to imitate him, failing miserably. You keep rambling on. “And I was thinking, like, obviously my shots are good. Have you ever met me?” You groan. 

“Well, newsflash,” Shoko starts, her words ending abruptly with a giggle after you glare at her. 

“Shut up.” You mumble. “I mean yeah, sure, he’s cool. And I’m glad we’re talking to each other for once instead of just pretending the other doesn’t exist. But.. why now?” You squint, your thoughts getting jumbled up. “We graduate in, like, 9 months.” You scoff, trying to think. 

“Maybe that’s why?” Shoko starts. “I don’t know. I mean, I know Suguru, but he isn’t usually very open with his emotions and everything.” She shrugs, a soft sigh falling from your lips. 

“Whatever.” You say, dropping the subject.

By the time you were walking back home, it was dark. The warm lights illuminated the streets as the sounds of crickets and distant wind filled your ears. It was warm and humid. It was peaceful.

Your front door opened with a creak, the old wood slamming into the door frame as it shut behind you. Your wooden steps whined as you climbed upstairs. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you shut your bedroom door behind you, safe in the sanctuary of your room. The air conditioning buzzed in your ears, a constant background noise that you had learned to tune out. 

The USB inserted into the side of your laptop with a click as you logged in and started going through the rest of your photos from this week. Your personal favorite was the one of Shoko walking along the old train tracks last Saturday night. Her arms out to balance herself and the flash shining on her back and the metal of the tracks beneath her feet. The dark sky above her was flooded with stars. 

Your adoring trance is broken by a light “ding” coming from your cell. You flip it open and see one new message from Satoru.

“Want to tell me why Suguru suddenly wants your number?”

It dings again. 

“Is there something you’re not telling me? ;)”

You groan, pressing the call button. You did not have the energy to type out a full explanation for him.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He purrs in that insufferable tone he uses every time he tries to helplessly flirt.

“Satoru. Shut up.” You quickly shut him down. “What was your text about?”

“Someone’s grumpy.” He mumbles before continuing. “Nothing. Just the fact that Suguru was talking about you all of a sudden. Said something about photography class, your number, blah blah blah… I kind of tuned him out after I heard your name.” You swear you can hear his smirk through the phone.

“Did you give it to him?” You ask, leaning back in your chair.

“Give him what?” You groan at his stupidity.

“My number, idiot.” You yell through the phone.

“Obviously not.” He says plainly.

“Why?!” You whine, more pissed off than you had been originally.

“Because.” He replies, immediately changing the subject. “So, are you guys friends now? You and Suguru?”

You think. “I mean, I don’t know. We spoke to each other in class, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Fucking finally, jeez.” He sighs. “I swear you guys have known about each other for years and you have never spoken. Pretty weird if you ask me. Plus..” He trails off, mumbling something you couldn’t hear. 

“What?” You ask, almost yelling into the phone again. 

“Nothing. Just glad you guys are… friends?” He laughs. “Anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow. Make sure you bring that jacket I let you borrow last week.”

You sigh, glancing back at the brown, worn, jacket that Satoru had let you borrow when you went to his band’s show downtown. The band that Suguru also happened to be in. It was like you couldn’t escape him recently.

“Okay. Bye.” You say as you flip your phone shut. 

You make your way to the corner of your room and grab the jacket off of the edge of your standing mirror. You hold it in your hands, the worn fabric rippling beneath the touch of your fingers. Bringing it up to your face, it smells of cologne and smoke, hints of your perfume scattered through the scent. Basically, it smelled like Satoru. The scent that would flood your senses when he pulled you in for a hug or put his arm around you. Shaking off the weird feeling that overcame you, you throw the jacket over your backpack so you remember it in the morning and get yourself ready for bed. 

The morning is a constant routine. Soft music plays from your CD player as you finish dusting on your blush and start glossing your lips. Your fingers curl into the sectioned pieces of your hair as you braid it back, pulling a few strands loose in the front. Your tight cable-knit long sleeve was pulled over your white tank, the hem reaching your hips, a jean skirt on the top of your legs. The smell of your perfume is quickly enveloped by the scent of Satoru’s jacket as you scoop it in your arms and throw your bag over your shoulder. 

“Hey.” Shoko greets you with a yawn as you shut the door to her Civic. An easy routine that you quickly fell into. You sigh and place Satoru’s jacket on your lap as you buckle yourself in. 

“That Satoru’s?” She asks, her eyes on the road as she pulls out of the driveway. 

“Yeah. He let me borrow it last week for their show.” You hum, Shoko nodding out of your peripheral. The smell of her car was nostalgic and comfy, discarded cigarettes and papers scattered around the back. The familiar turn into the school lot jolts you out of your tired trance, a groan falling from your lips as Sho parks. You two exchange easy conversation as you walk up to Satoru, Suguru, and a few of the other people they hung out with. 

“Toru!” You yell, walking up to the group. The head of white hair turns to you with a smile as you approach him.

“Hey, thanks.” He takes the jacket from your hands. “I would’ve let you keep it, but it’s my favorite.” He says with a wink. You scoff and roll your eyes, about to walk away before you see Suguru walk up beside him, his board under his arm.

“Hey, Y/N.” He says smoothly, his eyes gliding along your frame. You shoot him a small smile. 

“Hi, Suguru.” You glance at his shirt. A worn graphic tee with “The Smiths” printed on it. “Nice shirt.” You gesture toward it nonchalantly, meeting his gaze again, Satoru seeming like a character in the background. 

“Thanks.” He says, almost surprised. “You like The Smiths?” He quirks a brow before you giggle softly. 

“I love them. They’re one of my favorites.” A smile stays on your lips as you try to continue the conversation, Satoru’s loud voice cutting you off. 

“Sorry to break this up, but we do have a show tomorrow night. Don’t we, Suguru?” He jabs his elbow into his gut, eliciting a groan from the dark-haired teen’s mouth. He seems to come to his senses before going off of Satoru’s words.

“Yeah, we do.” 

“Andddd, you’re coming.” Satoru pokes at your shoulder as you groan. “You don’t have a choice!” He says, his stare almost lethal. 

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” You huff at him. “You too, Suguru.” You smile softly before heading inside and making your way to English, not missing Satoru’s irritated look toward his best friend.

You spend your Friday night at home editing your pictures on your laptop. The slow software was making you almost rip your hair out as the soft sounds of crickets and whistling trees echoed outside your window. After a long while of tweaking and changing the exposure and the lighting of your photos to perfection, you force yourself to sleep. Not without feeling a strange excitement bubble in yourself for the show tomorrow night. It’s weird. You never really felt like this before. Was it Satoru? Maybe it was the thought that Suguru would be there. But he’s always there. He’s literally the lead guitarist. Things just felt different lately. You force your eyes shut and shove away your thoughts. 

Getting ready for the show is a blur. Loud music playing through your room as you squeeze a low rise mini skirt over your thighs and pull a dark blue top onto yourself. You smear your eyeliner and cover your lashes in mascara, glossing your lips as Shoko continues to blare her horn from your drive way. You groan and spray an unhealthy amount of perfume on yourself, coughing as the strong scent invades your throat. You grab your camera bag and take one last look at yourself before padding down the stairs quickly, not bothering to shut your door or turn off your music. You grab a worn leather jacket and shrug it over your shoulders as you walk out of the house.

Shoko gives you a look as you fall into the passenger seat, a huff of air shoving itself from your lungs. 

“Who you looking this good for?” She smiles and glances along your figure. 

“Nobody.” You shrug, looking out the window as Sho laughs and turns up her music, a lit cigarette smoking between her fingers. You watch as her glossed lips purse around the cigarette, smoke flooding from her lips and out of the open driver’s seat window. The drive is relatively quick, the cramped lots downtown irritating Shoko as she tries to find parking. 

The dingy venue is filled with people, a handful you recognized from school. You and Shoko make your way through the dense crowd, the dim lighting not helping as you gripped onto her hand for support. The crowds always surprise you, considering they were just some amateur cover band. As the two of you shoved your way to the front, closest to the stage, you saw them. Satoru was adjusting his mic stand, Suguru was tuning his guitar, someone who you knew as Choso was on drums, toying with his wooden sticks idly, and that big guy with the pink hair was grumbling about something as he clutched his bass to his torso. Sukuna? You had heard his name in passing, and you were sure you had a class or two with his younger brother. 

You and Shoko talk mindlessly before Satoru steps up to the mic and speaks. Your mind filters it out as your eyes follow Suguru, who was looking at his best friend tiredly. As they begin playing, you immediately recognize the opening guitar line. You meet eyes with Suguru and you smile brightly. It’s as if he knew. 

“This Charming Man” by The Smiths.

⤷ last track ⟶ next track

taglist: @nanamisbbygirl

© all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to lurelics. please refrain from copying, stealing, or profiting from my works. none of my works are to be used or adapted in any manner without my permission.

[tangledupinyellow]

Lakehouse | Chapter Three: Monday | DBF!Joel x F!Reader

authors note: chapter three!! chapter four is already on the way!

series summary: A week at your family's lake house was supposed to be a fun and relaxing vacation for you... But when your fathers good friend, Joel, tags along, you come to find that this one week will be a lot more fun than you thought.

warnings/tags: 18+, no use of y/n, divorced joel, dbf!joel, girthy age gap (reader is 23, joel is 56), no outbreak au, language, sneaky touches, subtle handjob, dom!joel, oral (m!receiving), hair pulling, joel calling reader “good girl”, facefucking, deepthroating, nicknames (sweetheart, darling), mentions of alcohol, dealing with blood, minor injury, soft!joel

chapter summary: Joel comes so close to cracking and is craving you more than ever, but he’s still making it difficult giving you what you want.

word count: 9k

You craved him. You craved his lips, his touch. You wanted to drown in his dark brown eyes over and over again. You could still feel his breath on your lips, inching closer and closer to yours, just desperate to meet your own. 

But that moment never came. Instead, he pulled away, scared of what may happen if he dived in too deep.

He left you cold, empty and wondering. Wondering what could have happened if he had made that one simple move. If your lips had touched, wondering if he would end things there or take things a level further. Those all remained questions, for Joel never gave you the answers you wanted.

Joanna was popping a movie into the old DVD player when you walked into the living room, the fireplace already lighting up the area. The sun had already set, the sky now a jet black with visible stars being the only source of light outside.

You could hear your father popping up some popcorn in the kitchen, the buttery aroma hitting you instantly when you walked into the room.

The couch was covered in blankets and pillows, just like how you and your sister would have it when you were kids. You chuckled quietly to yourself when you saw the set up. Some old traditions really didn’t die off, did they?

Joel wasn’t anywhere in sight. You didn’t see him or hear him talking with your dad in the kitchen, for those two were able to yap away with one another to the point where you could hear them from the other room. 

The couch was empty except for the blankets and cushions. You had to admit that you were disappointed when you didn’t see Joel. But you put on a smile anyway as you sat down on the couch, claiming your spot and fluffy pink blanket.

If Joel wanted to be pissy at you and ignore you, then so be it. He was the one that almost kissed you, not the other way around. If he was too scared to be around you for the rest of the night, you’d find a way to deal with it and just confront him in the morning. But for now, all you wanted to do was watch some shitty cheesy movies with your family while eating endless bowls of salty popcorn, hoping that would take your mind off of Joel.

You leaned back against the couch while your sister put on Napoleon Dynamite, skipping through the ads in the beginning. You held your blanket close to you as you watched her, trying your best to relax. But you couldn’t stop thinking about Joel, about the way he almost kissed you. It was driving you insane. And the fact that he wasn’t in the living room with everyone else was just making it worse. He was proving to you that he was trying to ignore you.

With an excited grin on her face, Joanna sat next to you on the couch, grabbing her favorite blue blanket.

You yawned quietly as you held onto your blanket, the television light illuminating your face as the movie began to play.

“Tired already?” Joanna laughed and shook her head, smirking over in your direction. 

“Shut up. It's been a long day, and I can finally relax now.” You mumble and hold back a laugh while repositioning yourself on the couch.

“Oh yes, because spending the day on a lake is oh so exhausting.” Joanna mocked and rolled her eyes playfully.

You sighed and rolled your eyes back at her, rethinking your decision to come up to this lake house to begin with. Joel was being distant, and your family was annoying. Maybe partying it up with your friends would have been a better route to go for spending your summer.

“Movie started yet?” Your dad smiled and set the big bowl of hot popcorn down on the coffee table in the middle of the room before plopping himself down in his armchair.

You nodded but stayed silent. Without Joel here, you felt like you were still just a little teenage girl spending time with her family, all grumpy and irritated.

Being the youngest, your dad still treated you like you were 12 years old. And Joanna was still the typical big sister that you’ve always looked up to and loved dearly but annoyed you every damn chance she got.

You selfishly only wanted to be here because of Joel, to tie up loose ends and get the closure you had wanted since you were 21, with that preferably being him giving in to the temptation of being with you. But there was always that one obstacle in the way, your father. Even if he did want you as much as you wanted him, Joel would be hesitant to cross that boundary.

You found yourself bored halfway through the first movie. You wanted to go back into your room and finish your book or go and see what Joel was up to.

But when you heard the sound of heavy footsteps heading into the living room, you immediately looked up to see Joel. His hair was messy. His grey sweatpants and tight white shirt showed off all the right parts of his body.

“Decided to join us for a family movie night, Joel?” Your dad teased, grabbing another handful of popcorn for himself.

Joel chuckled and ran a hand through his hair before shaking his head in protest, “Nah, I was just comin’ to grab some water from the kitchen. Was about to head to bed here pretty soon anyways.”

“Please? Just one movie?” You smiled over at him, trying to give him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster. After all, the main reason you were here was to spend time with him.

Joel looked over at you with a warning glare, but he quickly replaced it with a smile when he remembered that your father and sister were sitting right there. He could already tell what you were trying to do.

“Alright, fine, just one movie.” Joel hesitantly gave in and nodded before striding over to the couch and taking his seat right next to you.

Your heart leaped in your chest the moment his thigh grazed yours over the blanket. Looking over at him, you gave him a small and gentle smile before offering the blanket to him as well. “It gets pretty cold here at night.” You whispered.

Joel looked down at the pink blanket and, much to your surprise, covered his legs and the bottom half of his torso without hesitation. He did have to admit that he was freezing and spent the past two hours in the spare bedroom, covered up in the bed sheets while doing some light reading.

Although, he had a hard time actually getting any reading done. He kept re-reading the same page again and again. It was difficult to concentrate when all he could think about was the way he almost kissed you.

His cheeks burned hot whenever he would think about it, reminiscing about the way your breath hit his lips, how his lips tingled as they yearned to touch yours.

He knew it was wrong, so damn wrong. He hated ever thinking about you in such a way; you were Peter’s daughter for crying out loud. But every time he saw you, he couldn’t stop his cheeks from growing red and his cock from twitching in his pants, just imagining the things he wanted to do to you.

He could only imagine how he would touch you, kiss you, fuck you… but he always had to hold himself back. It was killing him, but he didn’t dare let you know that. God only knows what you would do if you knew he was having these inappropriate thoughts about you, his best friend’s daughter.

Joel exhaled deeply, trying to distract himself from the fact that you were sitting right next to him by watching the movie, hoping that would do the trick.

The movie was nearly over, only about half an hour left. You were cuddled up close to Joel. No one batted an eye as you snuggled up close to him and rested your head on his strong chest, the two of you sharing one blanket. Not even Joel questioned it or pulled away, much to your surprise. Other than a gentle glance down at you, he didn’t say or do anything to acknowledge your close proximity.

You have already checked out of the movie. All you could focus on was how close Joel was to you. Your heart would go frantic whenever he would brush his hand over your thigh, or he would shift in his seat to subtly get closer to you.

He could deny it all he wanted, but both you and Joel knew how badly he wanted you deep down. If it wasn’t for your father, you were sure Joel wouldn’t be holding himself back this much.

But he still kept his eyes on the movie, almost as if he was purposefully trying his best to ignore you. 

The night wasn’t getting any younger, and you weren’t sure if you would even have an opportunity to be this close to Joel any time soon. You wanted to take advantage of this situation and not take it for granted. You needed to be bold.

Slowly and cautiously, you slid your hand down his thigh, making sure that your hand was still underneath the blanket.

Joel’s breath hitched when he felt you moving your hand down dangerously close to his crotch. He tried not to make his reaction too obvious, considering that your father and sister were still in the same room as you two.

Without taking your eyes off him, you slipped your hand into his pants, caressing the outprint of his cock through his boxers. Joel tensed up slightly, but he didn’t move a muscle. You moved your eyes back over to the movie to not raise any suspicion. All the while, you sneakily moved your hand into his boxers, grabbing the base of his hard cock.

It was hard for him to deny how badly he wanted you, mainly because the way his body reacted to your touch gave that away.

His breath got caught in his chest as you squeezed the base, slowly inching your way down to his tip. Your thumb swirled through the pre cum that gathered at the tip. 

Joel gasped quietly and bit down on his lip to suppress a moan, trying his best to just focus on the movie and not how good your small hand felt around his cock.

“Everything alright over there, Joel?” Your father asked, taking a moment away from the movie to look at him.

Joel cleared his throat and nodded quickly as he looked at him, painting a fast smile on his face, “Just enjoyin’ the movie. Ain’t you ever taught not to speak during one?” He teased with a light chuckle.

Peter rolled his eyes playfully and laughed along with him before continuing to watch the movie as if nothing happened. Because, to his knowledge, nothing was happening.

Little did he know that his daughter was subtly stroking his best friend's cock underneath the blanket.

Joel’s dick throbbed in your hand, and you could only imagine what it looked like wrapped around your fingers.

You moved your hand up and down slowly through his boxers, your nails teasing the sensitive and delicate skin.

Joel was biting hard on his lip as he looked down at you with a warning stare. While the two of you kept eye contact, Joel never stopped you as you stroked his cock. He didn’t want you to stop. There was already even more pre cum leaking down his tip as you palmed him gently.

He didn’t know why he was so turned on. You were a beautiful young lady. That was a given. But the thrill of it all, being so secretive, he felt like he was a sneaky little teenager all over again. You brought that excitement back into his life. He knew it was wrong. He knew it was so damn wrong. But there wasn’t a single part of him that wanted to stop you. If anything, all he wanted was for you to keep going.

You took glances at Joel from time to time, watching how his cheeks would burn up while he tried to hold back any moans or groans. Your hand felt too damn good. He came to realize why he always cracked every time he was near you. It was too hard to say no to you. He felt like a fool. Less than 24 hours, and he was already melting under your touch.

Right when you squeezed his shaft, Joel cleared his throat and quickly sat up in his seat. You moved your hand out of his boxers and into your lap, watching as he stood up from the couch.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows as he watched Joel in confusion. “You sure you’re feeling alright?” He asked with a hint of worry.

Joel ran a hand through his hair and nodded, pressing his lips into a smile as he looked over at him. He was just praying that the bulge in his pants wasn’t noticeable, “Just tired s’all. Gonna head to bed early.” He spoke quicker than he had intended to.

Peter nodded and returned the smile, “Just trying to get out of movie night. I see how it is.” He teased with a chuckle.

Joel laughed along and rolled his eyes playfully. If only he knew the real reason why he was cutting the night so short.

Before he left, Joel gave you a knowing look that had your heart soaring in your chest. He wasn’t done with you yet, not even close. Without a word, he walked into the spare bedroom, leaving you alone with your family and your devilish fantasies.

You let a few minutes go by, not wanting to be too obvious. If you had left right away, your father would have been suspicious. You were sure Joanna would have some sort of idea, but you trusted her enough to stay hushed.

Not even ten minutes later, you stood up from the couch and announced you had to go use the restroom. You quickly strided your way into the spare bedroom, closing the door behind you.

The moment you stepped in, you saw Joel pacing back and forth around the room, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. You could still see the prominent bulge in his sweatpants, just dying to be released.

When he heard the door close, Joel took a halt to his pacing and looked straight at you. It reminded you of a wild animal staring at its prey. Hungry and starved. 

His dark brown eyes were full of lust, a look that made you warm and tingly all over. He didn’t say a word as he grabbed onto your hips, pulling you in close to him. You could feel his hard cock pressed up against your thigh. 

“You’re drivin’ me fucking insane, y’know that?” He held onto your hips tightly, making damn sure that you wouldn’t be going anywhere.

His cock throbbed desperately in his pants. Pre cum was already staining his boxers, and his tip was red and burning with need.

He hated himself for how easily he cracked after just one night. But there was something about you that made him this way. Now, all that Joel cared about was you helping him cum after playing that little game in front of your father.

“Am I?” You whispered dangerously close to his lips before grabbing his hard cock through his pants, giving it a light squeeze.

Joel let out an animalistic groan before grabbing your hand and leading you over to the bed with him. He hated giving in to you this easily, but there was no way he was going to be able to fall asleep without you fixing the problem you had caused.

His hand was large around your wrist, his fingers wrapped easily all the way. You knew that he was large all around, and you couldn’t wait for what he had in mind for you.

Joel sat down on the edge of the bed and stopped you right in between his legs, “On your knees. Better make this quick before your ol’ man starts wonderin’ where ya are.”

You didn’t hesitate before kneeling down right in front of him, his crotch directly in your face. You were quick to undo his belt, just as eager as he was. Your mouth was already salivating at the thought of having his dick in your mouth.

Two years, you have been waiting for this moment, desperate to take anything he was willing to give you.

“You’re so pretty like this, on your knees. So needy to suck my cock.” Joel cooed while caressing your hair with his hand, watching you unbuckle his belt and pulling down his jeans with haste.

Joel was the only man you were ever so desperate for. He was the only man, in fact, that you even wanted like this. You never had the desire to suck any other man’s dick. The thought disgusted you. But with Joel, it was so much different. You were so eager to have him in your mouth. You craved the sweet and salty taste of his cum. 

Your hands moved with haste as you pushed his boxers down to his ankles, his hard dick popping out as you did so. Just as you imagined, it was red and dripping with precum, desperately needing its release.

It was the same you had remembered from two years ago. It was large, girthy, veiny… just perfect to fill you up any way you’d like.

Joel wrapped his other hand around the base of his shaft, slowly rubbing his dick up and down while petting your hair with the other.

“This is what you wanted, hm? Wanted my dick in that pretty little mouth of yours?” Joel groaned as he stroked his cock, his voice laced with lust.

Pre cum was dripping down his tip, and you were just dying to get a taste.

You looked up at him with pleading eyes, wanting his dick in your mouth more than anything. Joel stared into your eyes as he continued to stroke his cock. You licked your lips, careful not to break eye contact with him.

“Suck.” He demanded, pulling at your hair slightly.

Without hesitation, you closed your eyes and moved your mouth down to his cock. You started off on his tip, swirling your tongue around. You moaned quietly against him at the salty taste of his pre cum, already craving more.

“Fuckkk, that’s it,” Joel growled lowly in his chest, being careful as your family was still in the living room. And these walls weren’t the thickest.

Your hand met his at the base, squeezing his cock as you continued to tease his tip with your tongue. You craved to have more of him in your mouth, but you could already tell by his size that you wouldn’t be able to take him into your mouth all at once.

Your eyes closed as you carefully bobbed your head up and down on his cock, getting a little bit deeper each time. Your throat was already relaxed, and you wanted nothing more than to make him finish in your mouth. You wanted to be the one to make him feel good.

Each time you took more of him into your warm mouth, Joel would grip onto your hair a little tighter and let out a quiet groan. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you worked your magic on his cock.

With all of your prior teasing, he could already feel himself getting close. But he didn’t want to finish, not yet. He didn’t want this to be over, especially not so soon. The moment your mouth met his dick, he felt an instant relief from all the tension you had built up in the living room. It was as if your mouth was a warm blanket when he was freezing to death. This was just what he needed. You were just what he needed.

Joel’s fingers laced in your hair, guiding you up and down his cock. He started off slow, watching you intently as you gradually got deeper on his cock. Spit was gathering around your lips and dribbling down his cock. Just the sight alone made Joel want to go insane. You were so damn sexy without even trying. 

Joel hummed quietly as he pet your hair. You gagged quietly when you went a little too deep before pulling away slightly to catch your breath. You licked your lips and looked up at Joel with big eyes, meeting his lust-filled eyes that never left yours.

“Keep goin’,” Joel mumbled, his breathing getting more ragged. He vigorously stroked his wet cock when you moved away, “Didn’t tell ya to stop now, did I?” He whispered, his strong hand still wrapped around his girthy cock.

You giggled quietly and shrugged your shoulders while looking up at him, “I just think it’s funny.” You whispered, rubbing his bare thighs and biting your lip.

Joel furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at you. He was getting more and more frustrated the longer his dick wasn’t in your mouth, “What’re you talking ‘bout?”

“It’s been less than a day, and you’re already so eager to have my mouth wrapped around your cock.” You smirked, never breaking eye contact with him.

Joel took a deep, slow breath. You could see his chest slowly rise as he gripped onto your hair. He couldn’t deny it. You weren’t wrong. It was embarrassing for him to admit, but it was the truth. He was a weak man when it came to you. He wasn’t going to deny it, but he wasn’t going to admit it in front of you either, “Be a good girl and stay quiet.” He mumbled before tugging your hair, pulling you back down on his dick.

You gagged in surprise but moaned quickly after, squeezing his thighs as he pushed your head back onto his dick. You loved seeing him so needy just for you. Your panties grew wet, knowing that you were the one who was able to make him lose control like that.

Joel held your head down, his large hand remaining in your hair as he continuously bucked his hips up into your mouth, chasing his release.

“Such a perfect mouth. Fuck.” Joel groaned, his movements getting more hasty as he felt himself get closer and closer to his climax.

You moaned against his dick as you allowed him to face fuck you. He grunted quietly, struggling to stay silent as he watched his cock disappear into your mouth over and over again.

“Takin’ me so well, such a good fuckin’ girl.” Joel moaned and held your hair to keep you in place as he fucked your mouth.

You hummed at all his praises, wanting to be a good girl just for him. You wanted to please him more than anything. You wanted to prove to him that you could be perfect for him.

Joel gasped when you squeezed his thighs and gently scratched his bare skin. He loved the feeling of your nails on his skin just as much as he loved the feeling of your mouth on his dick. It drove him insane.

His mind went cloudy as he thrusted his hips faster and deeper into your throat, desperate to cum. His breathing was strangled, getting closer and closer to his release.

You let out a quiet sob against him, his cock going deeper into your throat with each of his thrusts. Tears formed in the corner of your eyes as he fucked your throat. You focused on his hand petting your hair soothingly and listened to him whisper sweet nothings about how good you were doing for him.

“Fuck. Shit..” Joel groaned and leaned his head back, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he released in your mouth.

He gripped onto your hair tightly, his cock throbbing in your mouth as strings of warm cum shot on your tongue and down your throat. You slowly pulled your mouth away from his dick and rested your head down on his inner thigh. His pubes tickled your nose as you laid your head down on him, taking the moment to catch your breath. You coughed quietly, the drunken smile never leaving your lips.

Joel was doing the same as he slowly opened his eyes to look back over at you. The second he laid his eyes on you, he felt a pang of guilt hit his chest. You looked so calm and innocent as you lay on his lap, your mouth pink and plump from sucking him off.

He swallowed hard, the logical part of his mind slowly coming back to him. You were his best friend’s daughter, for crying out loud. He had a weak moment, and the regret hit him instantly. Not only were you Peter's daughter, but you were still so young and so innocent. You were only 23 years old. You still had so much life to experience. You shouldn’t be wasting away these years with a man who was already in his mid fifties.

He felt terrible watching you smile and relax on his lap. The two of you sat in silence. While you were full of peace and serenity, Joel’s mind was racing at a million miles an hour. All the while, you seemed to have no care in the world.

Reality hit Joel like a truck. Here you were, cuddled up between his legs while your family was out in the living room watching a movie.

He tore his eyes away from you to stare at the door in front of him, trying to process his thoughts. He continued to pet your hair gently, a frown forming on the corner of his lips. His touch was soft and gentle. It was a touch that could put you to sleep.

“I should head to bed,” Joel mumbled and cleared his throat, hesitantly looking back down at you. He helped you stand back up before he pulled his boxers and sweatpants back up, his hands shaking as he did so.

You looked at him with disappointment in your eyes. But before you could say anything, Joel kissed your cheek and spoke up again.

“I’m sure your dad and sister are wonderin’ where you ran off to. You should go back out there and watch some movies with ‘em. It’ll be fun.” He put on an evidently fake smile. His lips were pursed, and he shoved his thumbs in the front pocket of his pants. He hated ending the night like this, but he didn’t have any other option.

“But Joel-”

“Goodnight,” He cut you off, “I’ll see you in the morning, alright?” Joel whispered softly and laid down in the bed.

You watched him as he covered himself up in the duvet, laying down on his side and closing his eyes. He was done with this conversation. He was done with the night.

You stared at him for a moment, wanting to say something more. You didn’t want to end the night like this, but Joel wasn’t giving you much of a choice.

“Joel?” You started, not wanting the night to end. Not like this, at least.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He muttered, not turning or looking over in your direction. He laid as still as a statue.

You blinked a couple of times and sighed before turning around, grudgingly going back into the living room to end the night watching movies. But the whole time, you knew you weren’t going to be able to keep your mind off of what just happened between you and Joel.

┉┉┉

It was a long night. You were restless, tossing and turning in your bed. It wasn’t until nearly three in the morning that you finally managed to go to sleep.

You were even more annoyed when seven rolled around, and you woke up, unable to fall back asleep. You laid there for an extra half an hour with your eyes closed, trying to force yourself to go back into a dream-filled state. But, no matter how hard you tried, sleep never came back your way.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Joel and what had happened between the two of you the previous night. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see the way he looked down at you with lust and pleasure, praising how good you were sucking his cock and how wonderful your mouth felt.

And you couldn’t shake off the way he brushed you off so quickly after. It was as if he was trying to act like nothing happened between you two seconds after it happened.

Your mind was racing, and you eventually came to the realization that sleep wasn’t going to come back your way. You were annoyed and exhausted when you rolled out of bed. While it was your summer vacation, it was still a typical Monday morning.

You glanced over at a sleeping Joanna in the bed across from yours, jealous that she was actually in a deep sleep. Trying to be as quiet as you possibly could, you walked out of the bedroom and closed the creaky door behind you.

The morning sun was already up and shining, the brightness almost too much for you with all the open windows. You rubbed your eyes and yawned tiredly, making your way into the kitchen.

A couple of the windows were open, letting in a light breeze. It was strangely quiet other than the birds singing a merry tune outside. Looking out the window, you saw your dad outside working on the fishing boat, determined to get that old thing working again. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had been out there since five in the morning. He was always an early bird, and unfortunately, he had passed that trait down to you. Even though you wanted more sleep, you were never able to sleep past eight on a good day.

You watched out the window for a second longer, noticing that Joel wasn’t outside there with him. You assumed that he was probably still fast asleep.

Walking over to the coffee pot, you started brewing up some fresh coffee in hopes that it could begin to wake you up so you wouldn’t feel like you were half asleep for the rest of the day. You reached up into the cabinet to grab a coffee mug, holding it close to your chest. You kept your eyes on the coffee machine, watching the hot liquid dribble down into the pot like a child would eagerly stare at the oven baking fresh chocolate chip cookies.

You rubbed your eyes once more and leaned back against the counter when you heard the sound of a door creaking open. Assuming that it was just Joanna, you didn’t pay it any attention and kept your focus on getting your first cup of coffee of the morning.

“Mornin’.” Joel’s deep voice came up from behind you, reaching over to grab his own mug. His arm brushed yours as he reached over you. You tensed up slightly and stared down at your mug.

“Morning,” You responded quietly, “How’d you sleep?”

“Slept fine.” He kept his answer short. His voice was tired and groggy, and he spoke extremely low in his chest. He sounded like he had gotten just as much sleep as you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he spent all night tossing and turning like you had, unable to stop thinking about what happened that night.

You stayed silent, waiting for him to say something, anything else. But he just leaned against the counter alongside you, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.

Looking over at him, you could see the bags underneath his eyes. It made you wonder if he had even gotten any sleep at all. You wanted to feel guilty, but you didn’t regret what happened. If anything, it only made you want even more of him. You wanted to hear him moaning your name and telling you how good you felt again. You craved for him to touch you like he did and more so.

Every time you thought about it, you got excited and warm all over. Even just looking at him had the same effect. He even looked sexy in the morning with his messy hair and sweatpants. You wanted to go down on him again more than anything. It was incredibly hard to hold yourself back.

But as you kept your eyes on Joel, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Joel was a man who was always good at hiding his emotions behind a stone cold face. His face was tired as he stared at the coffee machine, caressing the ceramic mug in his hands.

You were itching to bring up the night before, but you didn’t want to be the one to start the conversation. You were waiting for Joel to do that. But he kept silent, not even looking over at you.

You tapped your mug as you continued to lean back against the counter, close to Joel. His arm brushed yours lightly, but he pulled away quickly, clearing his throat. Joel glanced over at you for a quick second and sighed before turning away once more.

There was nothing he wanted more than to wrap his arms around you from behind and hold you close. You always had a special place in his heart, and that soft spot only grew since last night. All because of one weak moment he had, he wanted your touch even more. He wanted to pull you in close to him and spend a lazy morning in bed with you.

But of course, he couldn’t. He couldn’t even be thinking in such a way, and that was the hardest part; trying to deter his mind away from you. But each time you would even walk his way, he would find his exterior cracking and cracking even more, threatening to break completely.

And you were nearly successful with that the other night. He didn’t want to push you away. He wanted nothing more than to have you stay with him in bed, cuddled up in his arms and sleeping on his chest. But he had to do what was right, no matter how difficult it was for him to do so.

You kept taking glances over at Joel as you waited on your coffee, just waiting for him to say anything. But that moment never came.

He ran a hand through his hair and stepped over to the coffee machine when the coffee finished brewing, pouring himself a cup. He blew the steam from the mug before taking a sip of the piping hot black beverage.

He looked over at you from over his mug and gave you a small smile. He wanted to reassure you that he wasn’t mad or upset with you. He wasn’t at all. If anything, he was angry at himself for allowing things to go as far as they did. And he was mad that he wanted more of you. He was even more upset with himself because he didn’t regret what happened.

“Oat milk in your coffee, right?” Joel finally spoke up as he walked over to the fridge. It was something, but nothing close to what you wanted. It was clear now to you that you wouldn’t be talking about last night's activities any time soon.

You gave him a quick nod and a slight smile, “Yeah, thanks.”

Joel nodded and pulled out the carton of oat milk from the fridge, setting it down on the counter beside you. You thanked him and prepared your coffee the way you liked it. 

He stayed silent as he looked around before looking back over at you, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your cheek, “‘Course.” He mumbled before going out the front door to meet your father out on the dock.

Your cheeks immediately turned a dark shade of pink when his lips met your skin. That was the last thing you were expecting from him. It made your heart race in your chest. You watched as he walked back outside and bit your lip, failing to hold back a smile.

┉┉┉

By early afternoon, everyone was up and out by the lake, taking advantage of the warm summer weather. You were in your favorite baby blue bikini, one that you knew for a fact would catch Joel’s eye without fail.

Joanna was out in the water, floating on her back in the lake and letting the sun beat down on her skin while you sat out on the edge of the dock, dipping your toes in the water. Your sister had already begged you to come out in the water with her, but you were very adamant that you didn’t want to get your hair wet.

Right out by the dock, Joel and your dad were leaning back in some lawn chairs with a bottle of cold beer in their hands, casually sipping and relaxing as they made small talk.

You took your feet out of the water and laid back down on the dock, feeling the warm sun all over your body. It was calm and relaxing, just what you needed after your confusing morning with Joel.

Every time you would look over at Joel, he would immediately turn away as if he was already staring at you when you weren’t looking. You smirked to yourself as you watched him talk to your dad in an attempt to distract himself from you.

You had just as much of a hard time taking your eyes away from him. He always looked so good, especially with his tight tee shirt and sunglasses that covered his dark eyes. He had to be aware that the effect he had on you was just as powerful as the one you had on him.

You reluctantly looked away from him to bring your attention over to Joanna when you heard her calling out your name.

“What?” You called back out to her, standing up on the dock and facing her. Your ass was in Joel’s view, and you could feel his eyes on you.

“Are you going to join me in the water now, or are you just gonna lay there and burn in the sun?” She teased in her typical big sister manner.

You rolled your eyes and sighed before walking down the dock to get off and to the shore. You were getting pretty hot, and your sister was making the sparkling blue water seem very appealing. After all, it was never a successful vacation to the lake house if you didn’t spend at least an hour in the water every day.

When you were younger, you may have jumped off the dock and dived into the water. But now, walking into the water slowly and easing into it seemed more pleasing. Plus, it gave Joel more of an opportunity to stare at you and your ass as you walked into the water.

You glanced over your shoulder, and just as expected, Joel was staring at you through his sunglasses, his grip tight on his beer bottle. You chuckled quietly as you stared at him for a moment, feeling the cool water on your bare feet as you stepped into the lake.

You only took a couple of steps in before you had to stop immediately. An instant pain shot through your foot, and you cursed, grabbing onto your foot.

Joanna watched you and furrowed her eyebrows before standing up in the water, “Are you alright?”

You pressed your lips together and looked down at your hand to see the blood mixing in with the water, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.” You sighed, not wanting to bring attention to yourself.

Just your luck, you had to step on the sharpest rock in the lake that sliced a clean cut into your foot. It stung, and your foot and hand were now covered in blood. Just great.

You limped back out to the shore, grabbing your flip flops so you didn’t have to walk barefoot on the ground with an open wound on the sole of your foot.

Your father looked over at you as you walked back over to the house, dragging your injured foot behind you.

“Everything alright there, sweet pea?” He called out to you with a slight frown on his face, his body turned in his lawn chair to look at you.

When Joel heard him, he turned his attention over to you, an immediate concern washing over him.

“Yeah, I already told Joanna that I’m fine.” You told him, not wanting to bring much attention to yourself. All you wanted to do now was to just go inside and take care of this.

Peter seemed satisfied by your answer, unlike Joel. Joel stood up from his lawn chair and sighed, setting his beer in the cup holder, “I’ll take care of it.” He told Peter before walking over to your side and gently grabbing onto your arm.

“I said I was fine, Joel. I can take care of it myself.”

Joel shook his head, not listening to your claims that you were alright. He could see the blood that was on your shoe and the way you were limping all the way back to the house. He could tell you were bullshitting him, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“I ain’t letting you tell me that bullshit, c’mon now.” He demanded gently, keeping his soft grip on your arm as he dragged you inside the lake house and immediately into his bedroom, “Sit.” He motioned over to his bed before walking out of the room.

You sighed quietly as you watched him before sitting down on the edge of the bed. You took off your flip flops, holding onto your injured foot. The bleeding seemed to be dying out by now, but it was still covered in dirt and dried blood. This was something you definitely could have taken care of by yourself. You weren’t a child. You didn’t need Joel’s help. But he wasn’t going to allow you to deal with this on your own. That itself was clear.

Less than two minutes later, Joel came back into the bedroom, holding a box of bandages and a wet towel.

“Does it hurt?” Joel asked gently and kneeled down in front of you, grabbing onto your ankle to take a better look at the cut.

You shrugged, watching as he cleaned your foot with the wet rag, “Not really anymore.” You mumbled, keeping your eyes on him.

You were a bit surprised that he was so adamant about helping you, especially after the other night and this morning. He seemed like he wanted to just avoid you ever since last night.

He barely even talked to you this morning and has been giving you nothing but confusing signals that you struggled to make any sense of. And now, he was insistent on bandaging up your little wound that you could have easily done yourself.

His touch was soft and gentle, as if he had done this a million times before. He didn’t put too much pressure on the sole of your foot as he cleaned up the blood and sand before carefully bandaging it. Running a hand through his hair when he finished, Joel looked up at you with a small smile before standing up, growing three feet, “Should be as good as new.”

You chuckled quietly and rolled your eyes, leaning back on the bed while keeping your eyes on him, “Thanks, Joel. I could have done it myself, y’know. It didn’t hurt all that bad.”

Joel shrugged his shoulders before taking the seat down next to you on the bed, his hand just barely brushing against yours, “Yeah, I figured. But those cuts can get real nasty if you don’t take care of ‘em right. Wanted to make sure you got proper treatment.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh a little more when you heard him and smirked, shaking your head, “It sounds to me like you just wanted some alone time. Is that true, Dr. Miller?”

The corners of Joel’s lips upturned into a grin as he shook his head, “Not my intention, but I ain’t complain ‘bout it either.”

The curtains were closed, and everyone else was outside by the lake. It was one of the few times you were alone with him, other than the other night and the morning after.

“Seems like you’ve been going out of your way to get me all to yourself.” You pointed out.

Joel chuckled softly and held onto your hand, making your heart skip a beat. His calloused fingers caressed the top of your hand as his eyes bore into yours, “M’afraid I can’t confirm or deny that.” He whispered.

That wasn’t the response you were expecting from him. You had assumed that he was wanting to avoid you ever since the previous night.

“I’m feeling better already.” You smiled warmly, squeezing his hand gently, watching as he didn’t pull away.  

He actually wanted to hold your hand, to be close to you. He wasn’t saying anything, just staring into your eyes with such care that you haven’t seen from any man your age before.

It was much different than the lustful look he was giving you the night before. His eyes were soft and gentle as they stared into yours. He didn’t want to be the first to look away, and neither did you.

Joel took the other hand that wasn’t holding onto yours and gently reached up to caress your cheek, his rough hand contrasting against your smooth skin. Instinctively, you leaned into his touch, your cheek fitting perfectly into his hand.

“You’re so beautiful,” Joel whispered, letting the forbidden words leave his mouth. He hated himself for allowing him to feel such a way for you, but it was torture trying to deny it.

He caressed your cheek with his thumb, his finger slowly brushing past your lower lip. Your lips parted slightly, your eyes never leaving his.

Slowly, you stood up from the bed, and his hand moved down to wrap around your waist. He pulled you in closer to him with one swift movement, barely an inch between the two of you.

Your eyes glanced down at his lips, wanting to press them against yours more than anything. The butterflies came flying back into your lower stomach when you noticed him doing the same. You were waiting for him to make the first move. His grip on your waist tightened as he held you close to him.

Joel licked his dry lips, massaging your hips as he stared into your deep eyes, “Y’know, we really can’t be doing this.” He whispered lowly, barely audible enough for you to hear him.

“But we both want this.” You whisper, moving your hands up to his chest. He tensed up under your hands as you caressed his chest gently, your touch causing unexplainable things to him.

Joel looked down and sighed heavily, shaking his head in defeat, “Don’t mean it’s right.” He muttered and ran a hand over his face before looking at you.

His eyes were sunken in, and you took notice of the dark bags underneath his eyes. It was clear he was losing sleep because of this. He spent the night tossing and turning, unable to stop thinking about you and how good your mouth felt against his cock. He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted more of you. He didn’t get a blink of sleep, all because of you. 

He was in a conflict with himself. He was unsure what to do. He didn’t know whether he should follow his head that repeatedly told him how wrong all of this was, or his beating heart that would race every time he would lay eyes on you. 

You never tore your eyes away from him, trying to read him. But you were unsuccessful. He was always a hard man to read, but now more so than ever. 

“Fuck me.” Joel sighed heavily and shook his head.

You furrowed your eyebrows, and before you could even get a word in, Joel’s lips met yours in a surprisingly soft and gentle kiss. His large hands held onto your waist as his lips danced with yours.

You hummed quietly against his lips as you kissed him back instantly, closing your eyes. Just like you had imagined, his lips were warm and soft, contrary to his rough hands that held you close to him.

Your fingers found their way into his hair, tugging and pulling at the dark strands gently as your lips met his over and over again. Slowly, your hands snaked down to his chest, to his stomach, and almost made their way down to his lower stomach before Joel stopped the kiss, grabbing onto your hand gently.

He shook his head. You could still feel his hot breath beating down on your kiss stained lips.

You looked up at him in confusion, your lips slowly turning downwards into a frown. You wanted to ask him if you did anything wrong, but you were scared that you already knew the answer.

“Look, darlin’…” He began. You already didn’t like where this was headed, “You know I have a soft spot for you, always have an’ probably always will if I ain’t careful,” he ran a hand up his face and through his hair, struggling to find the right words to say. He wanted to make things clear, but he didn’t want to unintentionally hurt you, either. That would probably just break his heart even more.

There was a brief moment of silence before Joel held onto your hand once more as a way to reassure you, “But whatever this is, it can't continue. It’ll be damn hard, that’s for sure,” he scoffed quietly. He smirked, shaking his head, mostly to himself, “But it can’t. I care a lot about you and your family. You understand that, don’t ya?”

You didn’t want to, but you nodded your head.

“And I care about your dad a lot. One of my closest friends. And I’d be damned if I ever hurt the man who helped me through hell and back,” Joel explained, “And you’re still young. Still so damn young…” he exhaled, almost like the realization just hit him.

You remained silent, for once willing to keep quiet and listen.

“You deserve someone your own age who can treat you right, who wouldn’t have to keep you a secret and feel guilty every time he gets you alone. You are a beautiful young woman who can get any man she wants. But I can’t be that man for you.”

You wanted to interrupt him and demand that he was the only man you wanted, the only man that you ever truly wanted. Everyone else you’ve ever tried to date were nothing but assholes. But Joel was different. Not only was he mature and sexy, but he was soft and kind hearted, something you have never received from any other man before.

Joel tucked a piece of hair behind your ear while staring into your eyes, “You should get some rest.” He whispered gently.

You remained silent and nodded slowly. The one-sided conversation was a hard one to get through, and it was a lot for you to process. You wanted nothing more than to lay in bed and fall asleep, escape from the reality that you currently didn’t want to be in.

“You can lay in my bed. I don’t mind.” Joel offered and gently held onto your arm to help you lie down.

You didn’t need the help, but you didn’t push him away. He was so soft with you, and you wanted to hold onto this side of Joel for as long as you could.

With a quiet yawn, you laid down on the bed and let him drape the covers over you. He wanted to take care of you, and you wanted to allow him to do so. He brushed your hair out of your face and smiled softly, “You rest up now.”

You looked up at him as he gently rubbed your shoulder, “Can you stay here with me for a little while?” You asked him, your quiet voice tired.

The small smile on Joel’s face grew before he nodded slowly. He always had a hard time saying no to you, “Scooch over.” He mumbled.

You moved further over on the bed to make room for him, and Joel moved underneath the covers, laying right beside you.

“C’mere.” He whispered and wrapped his arm around you to bring you in closer to him. His body was warm and cozy as you rested your head on top of his chest. You focused on his beating heart and rhythmic breathing. It was almost enough to lull you to sleep.

The two of you stayed silent. There was a lot that could be said, but nothing that either of you wanted to bring up. You knew that pursuing any kind of romantic relationship with Joel was going to be near impossible, no matter how much you both craved each other. But at the same time, you were cuddling up to him in his bed.

It was clear that you both wanted more of something that you couldn’t have. All this was now, was a waiting game. Waiting to see how long it was going to take him to fully crack and not go back on his word. You knew what you wanted, and he knew that too. Now, it was all up to him to admit to himself how much he wanted you.

You listened to his steady breathing and yawned quietly once more, the sound of his soft snores lulling you to sleep.

┉┉┉

taglist♡: @umadirectioner @glitterspark

[sgartiste]

I need to put this out there now or else I’ll never put it to words. A month or so back, I gave my recommendation for A Tale Of Ice And Smoke by SooperSara while I was in the middle of reading it. Back then I was on Chapter Twenty-Something and at this point I’ve finished it and

OH MY GOSH THIS FIC IS AMAAAAZIIIIIING!!!

First of all, Book 1 of the series is complete and has been adapted into an audiobook narrated by the author herself. Barring a few overlaps in the voice clips (;P), it’s incredibly well put together and the author represents and distinguishes the cast incredibly. If you’re interested and willing, please, please, PLEASE give it a listen.

Imma start talking about the plot itself now, so spoilers if you wanna check the fic out yourself.

So, a friend of mine introduced the concept of podfics to me a little over a year ago, and decided to check a decently sized one out to explore the genre. I chose ATOIAS because, one, it was a fandom I was familiar with, and two, it was my favorite subgenre of fics, that being girlboss roleswap AUs. (my beloved) To put it very simply, it’s basically ‘what if Katara was the Avatar?’. The story revolves around her perspective and her experience as the Avatar throughout all of Book 1, and makes damn well sure to differentiate what this role means to her from Aang. Who is also in the fic, to be clear. And also the Avatar. 

EH!? TWO AVATARS!? EHHHHHH!? So basically Aang died in the iceberg after 84 years and Katara became the Avatar, and then she encountered him in the North, and accidentally used some Avatar mumbo jumbo to bring him back to life. It was an interesting, and admittedly off-putting idea. I originally felt it detracted from the main premise, but SooperSara makes sure to both take full advantage of this plot point and ensure that this story is still very much Katara’s. It’s important to remember that a very important part of a good fic that readapts the original’s plot is to make the bits distinguishable enough to truly make their story their own, and as — especially as — the plot progresses, the author does that very well.

Let’s talk about Zuko. Zuko, Zuko, Zuko. The author ships Zutara HARD. Don’t blame her, it’s peak. Katara/Zuko was a relationship mentioned in the tags, and I was totally fine with it, but little did I know at the time, the fun girlboss roleswap AU fic was just a poorly disguised Zutara fic! To be clear, there is NOTHING wrong with that. At all. I don’t usually go for slow burn fics  barring a handful of ships I fixate on. Zutara is not one of them. That didn’t stop me from growing addicted to the relationship. 🫠 

For starters, Katara’s role as the Avatar is unknown to most of the population, as most people think it’s just Aang. The only ones who know it outside the Gaang and a couple of characters who catch her in the act, are Zuko and Iroh. So Zuko now has to both capture Aang AND Katara to complete his mission and return his honor and yadda yadda yadda and he has to do all of this without stirring suspicion lest a certain Zhao spread the news and try to take over his mission. So Zuko immediately has a strong and unique connection to Katara compared to canon which is the real basis behind the butterfly that leads to the growing relationship. He focuses his pursuits on her and her responses are muuuuuch different than Aang’s, usually by giving him an earful or the occasional fistful whilst the latter would usually attempt to disengage. That’s another thing. SooperSara really knows how to make the cast feel like the kids they are. The squabbles, sputters and scowls (:P) by all of the Gaang make them all feel so natural and in character and it really strengthens their character, especially in Katara and Zuko’s sense. The former is petty and the latter is grumpy and the dynamic between the two of them is just so, SO endearing. Anyway, Zuko ends up being as much of a protagonist as Katara as the perspective constantly changes to his and much of the most important emotional beats involve his time with the reader. Aang and Sokka also get some focus, and their characters are certainly not ignored, but Zuko and Katara are the backbone of what makes this fic so good.

The first quarter of the fic is a retelling of the first half of Book 1, while taking some creative liberties to alter certain plot points, and that was all fine and dandy and exactly what I expected, but the plot takes a BIG change during the adaptation of Episode 15 where Aang and the group have their falling out over the map to Hakoda except Zuko and June actually succeed in their mission to catch the Avatar mainly because the fight with Aang has increased meaning for Katara and Katara is actually Zuko’s primary target. The augmented drama ends up with Katara stuck on a Fire Nation ship for… quite a while. Like… for weeks. Like… the second quarter of the 80-chapter fic is in this boat, mainly in this cell. It’s a very small, tight setting. And I was initially very impatient as to when this chunk would be over, wanting to go back to ‘episodes of avatar but katara is the mc’. What I didn’t realize was how this new setting would be the perfect place for the relationship between Zuko and Katara, as well as Iroh and Katara for that matter. The way she’s so self-defeatingly and dangerously defensive in the beginning and the efforts Zuko went to make sure she didn’t end up killing herself in the cell — by keeping her in Iroh’s company — were admirable. And Katara slowly comes to realize that Zuko, despite himself and his own feelings, is, at the very least, a very decent and complicated person. And Zuko is constantly conflicted by how much he finds he cares about not only his prisoner, but the other people around him as Katara constantly calls him out and gets on his nerves in their verbal skirmishes while still showing each other respect. In the end, they’re both kids, and they were thankfully raised on good morals despite their actions. Katara’s animosity between him for his actions, calling him just as bad as Zhao, remains until he ends up saving her life when Zhao blows up Zuko’s ship. I was initially a little detached from this change, constantly wondering which chapter would be the end of this tangent, but the growing bond between these two seemingly incompatible kids had somehow snared me sometime within. The chapter where Zuko returns Katara’s necklace was the first time I have EVER cried during a fanfic, and that was only enhanced by listening to the audiobook. (Another reason to go listen to it >:[)

So, yeah. About that. Preceding The Siege of The North, Zhao dismisses Zuko’s crew and basically destroys his mission to capture the Avatar all in his father’s name, and after attempting to blow the prince up as well as his newfound doubts of his mission via Katara being herself (in the most annoying way possible) Zuko is practically broken. He survives the explosion and stows away on Zhao’s ship with Iroh and when the plans to attack the North become apparent, Zuko, good-natured, guilty, and disillusioned by Katara’s constant questions feels a responsibility to protect and prepare the Avatar for the oncoming invasion. Not necessarily because he likes her or anything… o_o …but because his own conscience, now clearer than ever, recognizes that this attack is wrong and he has to do something about it.

The entire second half of the 80-chapter fic is in the Northern Water Tribe, which I was actually happy with, especially after how my feelings changed after the Fire Nation ship. It meant we’d get to spend more time with Yue and see Katara grow as a waterbender, and it would help strengthen the character and relationships between the rest of the Gaang. It takes a bit for Katara to actually get to train, Pakku being Pakku, but it really feels as if it pays off by the end. And Zuko. Zuko, Zuko, Zuko. He shows up much earlier than in canon to warn Katara, albeit with no real plan past that… because he’s Zuko. So when he’s found, which is thankfully very quickly, Katara drags him by the ear and sticks him in an ice pit for the next twenty chapters. In that time he becomes acquainted with the Gaang and soon gets dismissed as a threat. They talk, they bond, they spar once Zuko is allowed out and the relationships get plenty of time to develop and solidify in ways that never could’ve been possible in 20 minute episodes while still maintaining an enjoyable pace, which is impressive considering this is 40 chapters that represent 2 episodes. Zuko and Katara’s relationship carries the whole thing. Zuko’s awkward, angsty and bad with feelings, and Katara’s ill-tempered, spiteful and wears her emotions on her sleeve. They’re kind of perfect for each other. The perfect people to talk to — read ���argue with’. Seeing them feel so much responsibility and connection for each other (though, not quite love [yet]) more and more is an addicting feeling.  While I won’t spoil the ending with the Siege, I will say that everything that’s happened wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for Zhao being an asshole. So thank him for the Zutarany goodness.

But seriously, this is one of the best fics I’ve indulged in, and certainly the best one I’ve ever listened to. Author’s in the middle of Book 2 right now, which I have admittedly not begun, but I’m really looking forward to reading it.

tl;dr, came for the girlboss, stayed for the zutara. 

also sokka says fuck. 10/10 would recommend.

[voie-lacte3]

the boy on the cruise—

02 The Drink and The Boy...

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you were curled into one of the lounge chairs by the railing, shaded under a striped umbrella. sunglasses perched on your head, legs tucked under you, oversized t-shirt hanging loose over your swimsuit. you weren’t trying to impress anyone, just relax and disappear into fiction.

you were only a few pages into chapter five when someone stood over you, "the fuck..." you mumble, looking up slowly, squinting from behind the glare on your lenses.

a boy, maybe your age? slightly taller, warm brown curls, brown eyes that felt almost fake in the sunlight, stood there, holding out a cold plastic cup toward you. lime wedge. pink swirly straw.

“not to to be weird or creepy,” he starts, “but i had an extra one of these. and you looked like you could use something cold.”

you blink. “and you just happen to have an extra drink?” he smiles, sheepishly. “okay, maybe i grabbed two on purpose.”

you stare at him for a second. he didn’t seem like a weirdo, a little flustered, maybe, but not threatening. you raise an eyebrow. “didnt peg you as the kind to offer random strangers a drink while they’re reading”

“only the ones who look like they might ignore me if i don’t show up with something.”

you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you reach out and accept the cup. it was cold. condensation immediately dampening your fingers.

“impressive. so your flirting strategy is hydration?”

he laughs, short and kind of surprised. “is it working?”

“mmm,” you say, pretending to think. “not bad. definitely smoother than anything i've experienced before.”

“i'll take that as a win,” he says, sliding his hands into his pockets.

you then glance over his shoulder, instinctively curious, and see her, his grandmother, maybe? she was a petite woman in a bright pink visor, sunglasses, and a colorful sundress. she was reclining in a lounger not far away, sipping from her own drink and watching this exact interaction with a knowing smile.

“she's with you?” you ask, gesturing. he turns, “oh, yeah. that's my grandma.”

“she's definitely judging your flirting.”

“she's definitely not, she's encouraging it.”

you laugh, “well, she looks fun.” “she is. she won this cruise at a charity auction.”

you lean back into your chair, sipping the drink he brought you. it was really good. cold and sweet with the tiniest kick of pineapple. you raise your eyebrows, “okay. points for the drink.”

“good. i was banking on it.”

“do you always hand out drinks to strangers on vacation?” you tease. he scratches the back of his neck. “not really. this is kinda new.”

you smile behind your straw. he was cute. like… really cute, and awkward in a boyish way that wasn’t fake or forced. you could tell he was trying to keep cool and failing miserably.

you nod towards the chair next to you. “sit, hydration boy.” he lets out a breathy laugh and drops into the lounger beside you.

“so, how'd you land yourself on this cruise?”

“parents. they surprised me with it for completing the most hellish school year to exist”

“that's actually really sweet, my grandma wanted me to tag along to take a break from everything.”

“well, i'm glad you took the break. otherwise, i'd be sitting here drinking warm lemonade and reading in silence.”

he bumps your shoulder with his lightly. “and now you’re drinking cold juice and talking to a strange boy.”

“exactly.”

“and you still haven’t run away screaming.”

you gave him a look. “not yet.”

he laughs again, soft and genuine.

and you didn’t realize it then, but that would be the first of many laughs you’d hear from him over the next couple of days.

a/n: lmk yalls thoughts!!

tags: @bluebvrriee @v4mpire-bit3s @neroloops @m-e-m06 @icollectrubberduckies @tuttifrutt1 @unsaidjaelinrose @sorry-for-party-rocking-rah @courta13 @thegr8estpuff @thamesbunni @user168537 @katie-the-bookworm @cecedelove

[rkiveslibrary]

Chapter 4

Summary: You finally achieved your dream of writing and publishing a book and it goes well. It goes so well, your publisher wants you to write a second book. The only problem is the fans want it to be spicier and you have only had one very lackluster sexual partner in your life. Enter Kim Taehyung the cocky fuckboy of your past who is willing to lend a hand to a “friend” in need

Word Count: 7.3K

Paring: Taehyung/Reader (Side Jikook)

Rating: 18+ MDNI!!

Tags: Porn with plot, POV switch, slow building friendship, FWB situationship, blooming feelings??, playful banter between friends, there was only one very small couch... oh darn, cuddling, massages that turn sensual, erections, jerking off over clothes, kissing, Kim Taehyung has a big dick, handjobs, blowjobs, cum shots, cum eating.

Authors Note: I picked the nickname BabyBlue for a reason and this chapter explains why hehehhe

Thank you for reading! Likes and Reblogs are appreciated.

Series Masterlist

-------

“Oh, I am so excited to see my wedding dress again!” Mira chirped happily as she parked her car downtown.

The sky was clear blue, with big, wispy clouds that made it look like something out of a cartoon. The air was warm and bright, and everything was finally blooming after the long winter.

Today was Mira’s second wedding dress fitting, and as her Maid of Honour, you offered to go with her after your morning shift at the café.

You quickly went home to change in between, and just as you were tying your wet hair back, the doorbell rang. Mira showed up with a big smile and some croissants she had baked.

You ate as she drove you both to her appointment, filling you in on her morning so far as the windows were rolled down and the wind and sunshine felt nice on your skin.

You had yet to tell her about Taehyung; it wasn’t that you didn’t want to, it was that things had gotten busy, and between working and wedding planning, you didn’t have a whole lot of time to talk about yourself.

You weren’t mad or annoyed; you knew when the time was right, you would tell her all about it.

Mira shot you a smile as she looped her arm through yours, and you both walked into the small boutique where she purchased her wedding dress.

Mira was one of the easiest brides you had ever seen. She seemed to be chill about almost everything about her wedding, and it only took her two hours to find her dress, and she picked your dress in under an hour.

“Ah, Mira, come here, my beautiful bride!” A voice rang out, and you both turned to see Mrs. Hana walk towards you with arms outstretched and a smile lighting up her face.

Mrs. Hana was a friend of Mira’s grandmother, and when she found out Mira was getting married, she insisted she shop at her boutique.

Today, the store was quiet, but people were milling about as Mrs. Hana took you to the private dressing rooms, and you sat on one of the plush grey chairs as Mira disappeared behind a curtain to try on her dress.

As you waited, you pulled out your phone and saw a couple of texts from Taehyung, and you couldn’t help but grin.

It had been over a week since that night you showed up, soaking wet on his doorstep, and things had taken quite a turn.

You went from thinking he was a stuck-up jerk to him becoming someone you may…eventually…consider a friend.

After the steamy makeout session, you ate and talked things out, coming up with more of a solid game plan as to how to go about this.

Taehyung was surprisingly thoughtful as you came up with a sort of lesson plan to follow, so you didn’t get sidetracked or accidentally jump too far ahead.

It seemed jumping too quickly could become a problem, especially after that kiss.

Especially after how hard his cock felt under you as you straddled his lap

And especially how badly you wanted to get on your knees that night and suck him off.

Though you would never admit that to him

His ego was big enough.

And so was his-

Anyway

You stuck to an easy friendship for now. Taehyung sending you occasional memes and funny videos. You're sending some back. Asking about each other’s day

You know

The things friends do

Tonight was his monthly movie night, and this time he pleaded that you show up.

It had to be moved to monthly because everyone had responsibilities now, but Taehyung told you it was still important for his friends to get together at least once a month or more.

“We can’t get lost as zombies in the workforce. We have to remember how to have fun.” He told you that night after you set ground rules for how this would work.

Tonight would be your first night going since University and you were nervous, but you didn’t know why. It would be the regular group, though you guessed things were different now that you and Taehyung were friends-with-benefits.

The curtain slid open, and you stared in awe as Mira stepped out, looking like she belonged in a wedding magazine, as Mrs. Hana cooed and helped her to stand on the platform so she could get to work pinning her dress.

“God Mira, you look incredible.” You gushed as your best friend smiled at you, and Mrs. Hana agreed.

You quickly texted Taehyung back, telling him that yes, you are still coming tonight and yes, you and Mira would pick up snacks.

With that, you shoved your phone into your purse so your focus would be solely on Mira.

“I think I can take in a little more on the sides, dear.” Mrs. Hana said as she expertly pinned the dress up, and Mira nodded.

“Oh, and why don’t you get in your dress too, so we can see how it fits, dearie?” She asks, looking at you with a soft smile as you nod and head to the dressing room next to Mira’s where your dress is already hanging.

You pull the curtain closed, but something seems to stop you in your tracks.

You stare at the dress longer, trying to figure out what it is, until the light bulb goes off and you let out an audible groan.

“What’s wrong?” Mira asks. She must still be getting her dress altered, as her voice sounds far away.

“Mira. Did you pick the colour of this dress on purpose?” You ask, carefully taking off your clothes and sliding the dress off the hanger.

“Well, yeah. You know how the saying goes. Something old, something new, something borrowed, and you, my best friend, are my something blue!” She says as Mrs. Hana coos at how sweet that was.

And it was sweet.

Except the shade of blue she picked reminds you of a certain nickname a boy with fluffy hair and a mischievous smile gave you all those years ago.

How did you not notice during your first dress fitting?

You carefully step into the dress and pull the straps over your bare shoulders. You smooth everything down and stare at the shade with distaste as you pull the curtain open and Mira gushes.

“Oh, it’s so pretty on you!” She says as she steps down from the pedestal to let you have your turn.

“What’s wrong with the colour? It looks wonderful on you.” Mrs. Hana asks innocently as she begins to bunch up the fabric and play around with the length of the dress.

“Baby blue, Mira. Really?” You deadpan as her eyes widen, and she can’t help but throw her head back and laugh.

Oh, you are never going to be living this one down.

“He’s going to have a field day with this.” You hiss as Mira continues to cackle, and Mrs. Hana is still pinning your dress, oblivious to what is going on.

“It’s—I didn’t even think of… Oh my God, that’s hilarious.” She giggles, still standing in her dress as you jut your bottom lip out in a pout and sigh.

“He’s never going to let me live this down.” You whine as Mrs. Hana stands up and stares at you in the mirror.

“Does this have something to do with a boy? I can always tell when it’s about a boy.” She says as she begins to play with the fabric of the straps, as Mira is grinning behind you.

“Yes, it’s about a very infuriating boy.” You sigh as Mrs. Hana pats your arm sympathetically, but Mira isn’t about to let it go so easily.

“You know, you never did tell me what happened that night. Imagine my surprise when he is the one to call me and tell me you showed up at his door. After this, we are sitting down, and you are telling me the full story. All I know is he was willing to help you. There’s more to it than that.” She accuses you with a playful finger wag as you stand there and feel your face heat up.

Because yeah…there was more to it.

The kiss was….electric and made something awaken inside you that seemed to be dormant for years.

And now you were…kind of…sort of…friends.

Fate was so strange sometimes.

“What happened with this boy?” Mrs. Hana asked as Mira raised an eyebrow.

“To make a very long story short, we went to University together and he gave me the nickname BabyBlue after an unfortunate incident with a drink staining a top. Mira here decided that this dress should be almost the same shade of blue because she likes to torture me.” You respond as Mrs. Hana hums and is still working on pinning the straps.

“I didn’t even think about it. I mean, yeah, he’s invited to the wedding, but it’s not like he’s standing up there with you. It will be Jimin, and you know he won’t tease you about it.” Mira points out that you grit your teeth.

Because yeah, Jimin would never.

But he was also Taehyung’s best friend.

“Please don’t tell him about this. I don’t think I can take months of teasing. One day of teasing, sure. But three months. I’ll die.” You plead as Mira giggles at your dramatics.

“I think it’s more of a blue and grey myself, dearie.” Mrs. Hana adds helpfully as Mira snickers behind you, and you fight the urge to shoot her the finger.

Lovingly, of course.

“If he says anything, we are telling him it’s blue-grey.” You snap as Mira is still giggling behind you and luckily for you, the pins are all in place and you can step down and get changed.

Before you know it, you are bowing to Mrs. Hana and exiting the shop back out into the sunshine as you make your way to Mira’s car.

You still have two hours until you have to meet Taehyung and the others, and you tell Mira the boys want you to pick up snacks on the way.

“Fine, we will pick up snacks, but first, we are getting coffee, and you are telling me what the hell happened with you and Taehyung. He’s texting you now? You guys are….friends?” She asks as she puts the car in drive, and you feel yourself blush and play with your fingers.

"Uh, kind of.” You say as Mira gives you a hard stare at a red light.

“Spill.” She says

And you do.

-------

Taehyung double-checked that his place was clean as he waited for everyone to show up.

He had plenty of movie nights with his friends, but this one was making him especially nervous because you were going to be showing up.

And well

Things were going well with the two of you.

Like, really well.

Most of Taehyung’s friends-with-benefits had just been girls on the side who he texted when he was horny or bored, but with you, he wanted to get to know you. He wanted the friendship part, so he started to send you memes.

You both eased into a sort of friendship, and he found he was enjoying your company.

Taehyung never had a friend who was a girl before….and he kind of liked it.

Nothing else had happened since that night you showed up on his doorstep, soaking wet, and tonight would be the first night he would see you since.

So yeah.

He was nervous.

He decided to wear his comfy black pants that almost looked like dress pants and a tucked-in white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off his arms.

He wanted to look nice but not look like he was trying too hard, as he knew his friends would call him out on it right away.

Speaking of his friends, the group chat had been bombarding him with notifications ever since he told them you were his new friends-with-benefits.

Hoseok was weary and wanted to know what the hell had happened.

Jimin was overjoyed and already planning out your dates.

Jungkook was cocky and said he knew the two of you would get together all along.

Taehyung had to explain that no, you two were not dating; he was just helping you write your book, and that was it.

And after much teasing and joking, it seemed his friends finally got it all out of their systems and told him they were happy he finally found someone good.

Taehyung gave up trying to convince them that you both were not a thing, so he muted the chat and went to the gym instead.

He also needed a distraction because that kiss was….

Electric

Hot

Sexual in a way he had never felt before.

Taehyung had never gotten so close to cumming from just a kiss and it kind of scared him.

He didn’t want to mess this up with you. With your vulnerability around sex, with the wedding coming up, he knew there was too much at stake to overthink this, so he would treat it like every other situationship he had.

Keep it cool and chill.

The doorbell ringing made him jump, and he answered it to see Hoseok standing there holding up two giant pizza boxes.

It was always the same.

Taehyung hosted

One of the other boys brought food.

The others brought drinks.

And this time, you and Mira were bringing snacks.

“Hey! Help me with these, will you?” Hoseok asked as Taehyung helped take a box and brought it to the already cleared-off coffee table.

The door opened again, and Jungkook and Jimin entered with drinks in hand as they shucked off their shoes and helped get everything set up.

“So when is your lover arriving?” Jungkook teased Taehyung as he wiggled his eyebrows, and Jimin giggled next to him.

“She’s not my lover; it’s just a friend helping a friend.” He explained as Jungkook’s eyes grew wide and a bigger smile appeared on his face.

“I was talking to Hoseokie. No need to get defensive, Taetae.” He sang almost gleefully as Jimin giggled beside his boyfriend.

“This is her first movie night, so can you all at least try to be on your best behaviour and not scare her away?” Taehyung pleads as the doorbell rings, and he feels his heart start to race under his shirt.

“Ooo, better go answer it, lover boy.” Jimin sings this time as Taehyung shoots him the finger and ruffles his hair before answering the door.

Mira was standing there with bags of snacks in her hands, but Taehyung hardly looked her way as he was too focused on you.

The memory of your kiss plays in his mind.

Shit.

He couldn’t think of that right now, or he would get hard.

You looked nice in a short-sleeved shirt and tight leggings as you smiled softly at him.

“Ah, you did bring snacks, thank you!” He said politely as he moved out of the way to let you in and tried to shoot his friend’s warning looks without getting caught.

Mira handed you the snacks and walked over to Hoseok to wrap him in a kiss, and Taehyung averted his eyes just in time to see Jimin and Jungkook already claiming the main couch by grabbing blankets and tangling up in each other.

“Well, I guess we are the fifth wheel, huh?” He whispers to you as you crack a smile.

“Come on, lovebirds, break it up or the food will get cold,” Taehyung called out as Mira and Hoseok broke from each other, and Hoseok shot Taehyung a glare.

“You guys are going to be together forever; you can kiss whenever you want. This pizza, however, will not last forever so let’s dig in, yeah?” He says as he watches Hoseok bring Mira to the love seat on the left, which means you and Taehyung will be cuddled up in the small recliner.

He grits his teeth.

His friends definitely did this on purpose.

“What about you two? You going to kiss or what?” Jungkook asks, as Jimin covered his mouth with his hands to try to muffle his giggles.

Taehyung rounded the couch and smacked the boy on the back of the head, but you decided to take it a step further and respond with, "You wish Jungkook.” Which caused everyone to burst out into joyous laughter and for Jungkook to blush.

“Kookie, be quiet and pick the movie. I think it’s your turn, which means buckle in, people; we are going to be watching a very boring action flick.” Hoseok said as Jungkook stuck his tongue out at his friend and grabbed the remote.

The recliner was too small to eat comfortably on, so you and Taehyung chose to sit on the floor until you were finished eating.

The lights were dimmed, and the action movie started as the couples all got tangled up in each other, and Taehyung tried his best not to focus on how close you would be sitting to him once the food was done.

After eating, you both made your way to the recliner. Taehyung sat down first, and you had no choice but to lie on your side with your head against his chest and your leg thrown over his. He could see Jimin giving you both heart eyes, and he shooed his friend off as Jimin giggled against Jungkook’s shoulder.

It was nice to have you in his arms.

Taehyung was so used to hard and fast fucking he forgot how nice casual intimacy could be and this was…nice.

About an hour into the movie, Taehyung moved from the recliner to get everyone drinks, and to his surprise, Mira joined him in the kitchen.

“What are your intentions with my best friend?” She asked sharply as Taehyung got to work getting out water bottles for everyone.

“Uh, what?” He asked as the fight scene seemed to be picking up speed, and his walls almost shook from the sound.

“You heard me. What are your intentions with her?” Mira asked with arms crossed and shot Taehyung a sharp look.

He swallowed hard.

“Uh. I mean, she was the one to come to me. I’m helping her with her book.” He stammered, suddenly feeling like a little kid who was in trouble under Mira’s sharp gaze.

“You better not hurt her, Taehyung, or I have the honour of chopping your balls off. It’s in the friendship code.” Mira says as she takes some of the water bottles from his hands.

“I-uh? Did she say the same thing to Hoseok when you two started…?”

“Yes, she did. Again, it’s friendship code.” Mira points out.

“You told me to go easy on her over the phone, and I am. Promise.” Taehyung replied as Mira sent him a curt nod and turned on her heel, heading to the living room with water in hand.

Girls were so weird sometimes.

By the time Taehyung got back, Mira was snuggled into Hoseok’s side, acting like that strange conversation never happened, and Taehyung took his place back on the recliner, grabbing a blanket to throw over both of you as the movie dragged on.

Halfway through the movie, you began to get antsy in his arms and Taehyung watched as you squirmed and looked bored.

“You okay?” He asked lowly as you looked up at him and jut out your bottom lip in an adorable way.

“This movie is so boring. I’m bored.” You whine as Taehyung chuckles.

“Jungkook always picks the worst movies. We all just kind of sit through it.” He assures you as you giggle and bury your face into his chest.

Can you hear how fast his heart is beating?

He hopes not because that would be embarrassing.

You grow silent and stop squirming, so he turns his attention back to the movie, but not for long when he feels the hand across his stomach start to move in slow, soothing circles.

You were massaging his lower stomach where the top of his pants sat, and Taehyung felt oddly comforted by it. You took your time skimming your fingers along his skin, which made the hairs on his arms stand and a shiver run down his spine.

Whatever plan you had, Taehyung sat back and let you do it as the movie seemed to finally get sort of interesting. Though he was having a hard time following the plot when your hand was running across his body like that.

Your sneaky hand slipped into the top of his pants, and Taehyung’s whole body went rigid as you played with his neatly trimmed pubic hair.

You weren’t doing much, just massaging a little lower but it caused his cock to stir under his pants and he gritted his teeth as he tried to stop himself from getting hard around all his friends.

“Is this okay?” You asked softly as you stared up at him with innocent eyes, and he nodded as his teeth dug into his lip because, yup, your hand in his pants was making him hard.

Embarrassingly, achingly hard

He tried to concentrate on the movie… Or that his friends were sitting mere feet away, but when your hand slipped out of his pants to cup his bulge, Taehyung found that he was laser-focused on everything you were doing.

You were innocent in your touches, just taking your time and exploring him as his cock fully hardened under your warm touch.

You looked up at him again, and Taehyung nodded again as you rubbed him from root to tip softly; then, when you seemed to get the hang of that, you applied more pressure, making his eyes nearly roll in the back of his head.

You applied extra pressure to the sensitive head of his cock, which made it leak precum and twitch under your skilled fingers.

What was it about you that turned him into a horny teenage version of himself?

He had many girls put their hands on his cock but it never felt like this.

You continued to rub him through his pants innocently as the movie ended, and when the credits rolled, you pulled your hand away and smiled up at him as if you hadn’t kept him on edge for the last ten minutes.

Taehyung quickly flipped his cock up so it was trapped in his waistband as everyone hopped up and started cleaning.

The sun had set hours ago. Taehyung watched as everyone left, and he was disappointed to see you leaving with Mira giggling at something she said.

Once the door closed, Taehyung grabbed his phone and raced to his room to jerk off.

His cock felt too hot, too hard to go down on its own and fuck… he had to cum.

He closed the door and shoved his pants to his ankles when his phone dinged.

He stared at the message from you with a groan.

You: Made Mira drive me home so she didn’t suspect anything. Is it okay if I come back and we work on some stuff for my book? The movie was just a warm-up.

Taehyung’s heavy cock twitched as he typed out a reply and threw his phone on his bed.

Fuck you were going to jerk him off tonight.

And if he was this hard from some light touches, he knew he would be fucked.

Taehyung placed one hand on the wall and with the other, he fisted his cock. If he didn’t cum now, he knew he would cum the second you got your hand around him. He was too pent-up for this.

Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut and just the memory of your body on top of him, grinding into his cock as the prettiest moans left your lips and the way you felt so fucking wet on top of him had hot ropes of cum spurting from his cock as he worked himself through his high.

Thank fuck he jerked off ahead of time because he had not cum that fast since he was a teenager.

Taehyung quickly cleaned himself off as he saw the text, You were on your way.

-------

He was putting away the blankets when you rang the doorbell, and he quickly straightened up his shirt as he raced to answer the door.

You smiled at him as he let you in, and you took off your shoes as Taehyung stood there awkwardly awaiting the next move.

“Long time no see.” He teased as you grinned and made your way to his couch, but his hand closed around your wrist, stopping your movements.

“The bedroom might be more comfortable.” He states, raising an eyebrow as you nod and follow him through his house, turning off lights as you go.

Taehyung turns on his bedside lamp, which casts everything in a warm glow, and he takes his time rolling down his sheets.

He feels slightly on edge as you enter the room and place your small notebook on his side table.

You asked him if he would be okay with you taking notes as you went, and Taehyung agreed at the time, but now, seeing the notebook with little yellow smiley faces on the cover, it was making him nervous.

“So you survived movie night.” He said softly as he sat on the bed, and you followed his lead.

The air was thick with tension, and Taehyung felt anticipation in the air.

“Yeah, it was good. The movie was awful, though.” You pointed out as Taehyung giggled, and you smiled at him.

“See, hanging out with me isn’t so bad.” He teased.

“The jury is still out on that one, you know.” You tease back, and both of you fall into a comfortable silence.

“How did it go with Mira today?” He asked after a while.

“It went well. She got her dress altered. I also got mine altered.” You explain, looking up at him with a happy smile on your face.

“I know her dress is white but what colour is yours?” He questions as a pretty blush coats your cheeks.

“Did Mira talk to you or something?” You ask suspiciously.

“No. I mean. Yes. But she cornered me in the kitchen and wanted to know my intentions with you. Told me she would chop my balls off if I hurt you,” he explained dramatically, cupping his balls and loving the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed.

“So she gave you the talk. I figured it would happen when I told her what was going on between us.” You explain as you tell Taehyung how, after the dress fitting, you and Mira went out for coffee and she got the story out of you.

You both fell into a silence again, and Taehyung knew he should get to the point of the night, but he didn’t want to just yet. He liked sitting here and talking to you. It was the same feeling he got when you were in his arms; it was just…nice.

“So, how did the kissing scene go? Did your editor like it? I put a lot of work into that, you know.” He says, shooting you a goofy smile.

Your eyes light up, and you begin to babble about how much your editor liked it and how she thought it would change your entire story. You told him how you felt better about writing spicier things and how you were working on some plot for the story, so you had some time before you were thrown into the fire of writing spice again.

Taehyung cocked an eyebrow.

“So why did you want to come over again tonight? Couldn’t get enough of Captain Kim Taehyung?” He puffed out his chest in pride, and you rolled your eyes and playfully pushed him down on the bed, climbing on his lap in a way that made his body light up.

“You know it.” You deadpanned as he sat up against the pillows, keeping you on his lap as he got comfortable.

“No, really, why did you come back tonight? I mean, I have a hot girl in my lap, so I’m not complaining; I’m just…curious.” He asked as his hands were drawn once again to your hips, and he held you steady against him.

“I have a little bit of time before the couple in the book starts something sexual; I just don’t want to wait till the last minute and show up at your door soaking wet and begging you to help me, you know.” You say with a grin.

“It did work out for you last time, you know. From what I remember.” He teases, eyes purposely flicking down to your lips.

“Mhmm, was it that memorable for you?” You ask, batting your eyelashes playfully at him.

“Maybe. I don’t know; you might have to remind me.” He says as you waste no time in capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

-------

Taehyung’s lips feel heavenly against yours, and you take your time savouring the way he tastes faintly like pizza as you move your lips in time with his.

This time you don’t hesitate to rest your core against his cock as you tangle your hands in his hair and kiss him.

Still electric

Still hot

This time, you break away first and take your time exploring his jawline and the spot under his ear that makes his breath hitch and his eyes roll back.

Your hands playfully run down his chest through his shirt, and he shivers as you touch him.

His hands help you rock against the hard ridge of his erection, and you whine when you feel its fullness against your core.

You had to admit touching him during the movie got you a little hot and bothered and you didn’t want to wait to see him again or to finally see his cock, which was why you offered to come back after the movie.

Taehyung moans, bringing you back to reality as you continue to swivel your hips against him, loving the friction.

“Thank fuck I jerked off before you came over. Jesus, the things you do to me.” He whispers as your lips trail down his neck to suck at his collarbones and Taehyung softly pushes you away for a moment so he can take his shirt off.

Your eyes widen when they are met with toned and tanned skin. All those hours of playing soccer gave Taehyung a body that was lean and strong. His chest was defined, his stomach was taut, and you nearly moaned when you saw the small patch of hair that led into his pants.

“I’m magnificent. I know.” He chuckles as you run your hands down his chest and stomach, letting your blunt nails trace over his skin and leave goosebumps in their wake.

“You jerked off before this?” You asked softly as your eyes met his, and you saw the shy blush paint his cheeks and neck as he nodded.

“I, uh, I wanted to last for you. And touching me during the movie. I mean. Fuck.” He explains as you snicker.

“You were going to blow your load from some light touches? The Taehyung I know would never fall so easily.” You tease.

You are desperate to taste his skin so you don’t wait for his reply as you dip your head down and begin to trail kisses down his chest and stomach, making him suck in a breath and grip the sheets.

“I—sh-shut up.” He stammers as you giggle against his skin.

You slowly move off of his cock to kneel beside him and really take him in. The light from the lamp casts his skin in a warm glow, and you can’t help but run your hands down his body again.

God, he is so attractive it’s insane.

And kind of annoying at the same time.

How the hell does he get to walk around looking like this?

You see his cock standing proudly under his pants and the tent it makes is quite impressive.

You felt confident during the movie, even a little powerful but now that the time had come to actually see his cock and make him cum, you had to admit you were a little hesitant.

“Talk to me, what’s going on?” He coaxed as your eyes snapped to his, and you ran your hands down your lap in nervousness.

“I’m…nervous.” You whisper as Taehyung smiles softly at you and grabs your wrist, rubbing soothing circles against your heated skin.

“What changed? You were fine during the movie.” He asks as you close your eyes and let out a shaky breath.

The truth was you weren’t sure about how good you were at giving handjobs. Anytime you tried to initiate anything sexual with Simon, he usually shut you down. When you actually did have sex with him, he hurried through most of it, almost as if to get it done and over with.

You had made him cum through hand jobs and blow jobs but it was so rare that you weren’t even sure if you had been doing it right.

What if you didn’t do it right?

What if you were awful at it?

What if Taehyung laughed at you?

“Want to do it together?” He asks, snapping you from your thoughts as you nod, and Taehyung calmly grabs your hand.

He brings your hand to his clothed cock and helps you stroke him through the material of his pants.

When you get in a groove, he pulls his hand away and lets you explore.

Just as he did during the movie, he feels hot and hard under your palm. When you rub the head of his cock, you feel it twitch under your fingers and knowing you affect him like that gives you a surge of confidence.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” He moans, throwing his head back against his pillows as his lips part and his tongue darts out to lick them.

You take your time exploring, and when you run a finger up and down his length, Taehyung’s hips jerk into your touch, causing you to giggle.

“I think you were playing me before. You’re a natural.” He praises you as you smile and begin to jerk him while kissing his stomach and chest.

You can feel slight wetness coating your palm and when you look down, you see him leaking through his pants where his cockhead sits and fuck if that doesn’t send a shot of arousal through you.

You stop your movements, which makes Taehyung’s head shoot up as his eyes lock on yours.

“I think. I think we should take your pants off. Before we ruin them, you know.” You explain as Taehyung nods and sits up, looping his fingers through his pants and pulling them down.

-------

You are staring at his cock.

His very erect, very wet cock and you gasp.

Taehyung knew he could tease you a bit and pull his pants down slowly; girls usually loved it when he did that, but he also could feel the nervousness radiating off of you, so he decided to pull his pants down quickly.

His cock smacked against his stomach, smearing it with precum, which made him wince as you studied him.

You gasped, and Taehyung’s eyes snapped to yours to see you staring at his size with shock written all over your face.

“You—holy fuck, no way is that going to fit inside me. You’re huge!” You exclaim, staring down at his length like it was a venomous snake, and Taehyung fights the urge to laugh.

“Already thinking about me fucking you. Kinky.” He teases as you lightly nudge his arm, and Taehyung doesn’t miss the way you squeeze your legs together.

You are trying to be subtle, but he notices.

You’re turned on by the sight of his cock.

God, he can’t wait until you’re comfortable enough to let him get his hands on you.

“No, I just—I mean—I know I felt it; I just didn’t think it was that—you know what? I’m going to shut up now.” You stammer, smacking a hand over your mouth, which causes his lips to twitch.

You were so damn cute when you got all red and flustered.

Which was why he loved teasing you so much.

“You can touch it, you know. It doesn’t bite.” He reminds you as you shoot him a hard stare and uncover your mouth.

You don’t make any moves to touch him, so Taehyung takes matters into his own hands. Literally.

He grabs his shaft and begins to stroke himself slowly, letting you watch how he does it. Hoping it will make you more comfortable with getting your hands on him.

Because the only thing he wants in the world right now is to feel your hand jerking him off.

“It's easy, Babyblue. Just up and down. Slight pressure. I personally like it when the girl plays with the head of my dick but every guy is different.” He coaches as you seem to finally gain the courage you need to circle your fingers around the base of his cock.

Taehyung knows he is bigger than average. He also knows that some girls went after him simply because he was big. However, seeing your small hand wrapped around his base was making him harder than he had ever been.

You slowly and carefully jerked him off as Taehyung let out breathy moans and small encouragements to help you with your confidence.

Every swipe of your hand from root to tip was sending sparks of arousal down his spine, and he could feel his stomach coiling in pleasure.

Eventually, you grew bolder as you began to jerk him faster and apply more pressure. You took the precum that was leaking out of his slit and dragged it down his cock, making his back arch off the bed and moans leave his lips.

You brought your other hand down to lightly cup his balls and his cock twitched and throbbed in your hand as you grinned wickedly at him.

Yeah, you were getting the hang of it now.

And yeah, it was turning Taehyung on more and more.

You waste no time in jerking him and once again bringing your lips to kiss his warm skin. The combination of your hand and lips sends Taehyung arching off the bed again, and he tightens his hands into the sheets.

He needed something to anchor himself, or else he was convinced he would float away in space.

That’s how good you were making him feel.

Your hot kisses continued down his stomach and when you kissed the root of his cock, he nearly cried out at how good it felt.

You remove your hand to kiss up his length, and when you suckle the head, he hisses, and you pull back in shock, but he grabs your arm to stop you.

“Teeth. Just be careful… don’t stop. Please.” He almost begs as you nod and bring your lips to his cockhead.

This time you focus on light kisses and small sucks as Taehyung is losing his mind under your ministrations.

You grow bolder as you suck his cock head into your mouth, being careful of your teeth as you hollow out your cheeks and make him cry out and thrust into your mouth.

You don’t seem to mind as you bring your hand back to his shaft and jerk him off in time with your sucks.

Taehyung gets the hint as he continues to lightly fuck your mouth as you work him faster, making the coil in his stomach tighten even more.

Oh god, it feels so good.

Oh god, he’s going to cum.

He doesn’t want to. He wants it to last forever.

If somehow he ever got the death penalty, the last thing he would want before he goes is your wet mouth against his cock.

It feels like heaven.

“Gonna-fu-fuck. Close.” He warns as you gather your spit and coat his cockhead with it before pulling your mouth away and jerking him off.

The wet noises echo through his room and Taehyung grips the sheets harder as you twist your wrist in the right way, and he loses it, back shooting off the bed as he throbs and coats your fist in warm, sticky cum.

Taehyung’s breathing is ragged.

His body is coated with a sheen of sweat and when he finally opens his eyes, you are removing your hand and slowly licking the cum off your fist.

Oh, fuck.

His cock gives a pathetic twitch against his stomach as he swallows hard.

“Stay here; I’ll get something to clean up.” You say to him as you lightly pat his thigh and head to the bathroom.

Taehyung closes his eyes and puts a hand over his heart in an attempt to slow it down. That was incredible. And wonderful. And he wants it again.

Maybe not right away.

But in the future, for sure.

You come back into the room with a damp washcloth and you take your time wiping at his cock and his pubes. You hum lightly under your breath, which he finds cute.

You put the washcloth back in the bathroom and make your way over to him.

Taehyung slips under the covers, and you do the same as you grab your notepad and begin to scribble everything down.

Taehyung reaches for his phone and rolls his eyes when he sees the group chat is still going on about you and him being a thing.

He doesn’t bother responding as he sees you close the notebook and place it on his bedside table.

“You okay?” He asks softly as you curl into his side and place your head on his chest. His arms encircle you and hold your body against his.

“I think I should be the one asking you that.” You giggle as your hair tickles his bare skin, and he runs his fingers up and down your arm.

“I meant what I said earlier. I think you were playing me. You’re incredible.” He compliments you as he kisses your temple, and you sigh happily in his arms.

“I don’t have a whole lot of experience, but I’m glad you liked it, and it’s really helping with my book and my confidence, so thank you.” You say as Taehyung suddenly feels crestfallen.

Right

This was for your book.

The wedding was in three months, and even though you still had more learning to do, he felt like the end was fast approaching. He didn’t want it to end yet. He liked hanging out with you.

Taehyung didn’t know what to do with these feelings because usually, he was the one to want situations like this to end. The girls became stale or wanted more, and he had to end it.

With you, though.

He was growing sad even thinking about it ending.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” You tease, bringing him back to reality as he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair.

If he told you what he was thinking about, it might scare you away, so Taehyung fell back on his old tactic of deflection and teasing.

“Just thinking about how I can’t wait to get my hands on you.” He jokes, playfully twirling your hair in his fingers.

“If you think I was nervous tonight, you're in for it when it’s my turn. I’m going to be a wreck.” You warn.

He smiles and presses another kiss to your temple.

“Just like we did tonight, we will take it slow. Gotta prep you for my cock. I think I remember you saying it was huge.”

You groan against his chest as his laughter rings out through the room.

“It was a heat-of-the-moment thing!” You defend.

“Sure, Babyblue. Whatever you say.” He teases.

“Want to watch another episode of your show? I think you got me hooked from last time.” You ask as he grins and reaches for the remote, loving the feeling of being home on a Saturday night with you curled up in his arms.

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