#did a spearmint on this one | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

freedomfireflies · 1 year ago

Text

You Again*

Summary: The one where Harry is your sister's ex-boyfriend and you finally get to see him again after 5 years.

Word Count: 11.4k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, age gap (6 years), sir kink, choking, use of a toy, exhibitionism if you squint!

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Your eyes widen as you look up toward the man making his way into the diner. You'd recognize him anywhere. The dark curly hair. The tattoos that bleed through the fabric of his light shirt. The rings on his fingers.

Just like that, years' worth of memories come flooding back to you all at once.

"Harry," you shriek, sliding off the stool before practically flinging yourself into his arms.

He smells exactly the same. Like teakwood and spearmint. A rather odd mix, yet subtle enough to remind you of home.

Of him.

His chest vibrates with a deep laugh as his arms wrap around your frame to keep you against him, prolonging the hug a minute or two longer than socially acceptable.

And when you finally lean back to see him, your cheeks begin to warm.

It's been...four years? Five? Since you last saw him? Just days before he and your sister broke up, effectively removing him from your life for good.

It had been a hard time. You wanted to be there for your sister. To comfort her through the grief of losing such a long and meaningful relationship.

But you wanted to be there for him, too. After all, he was one of your best friends, age difference or not. He had always been the comforting, influential figure in your life that you relied on. That you counted on to get through different hardships in your life.

He had picked you up after your first day at your new job. Had held you in his arms as you cried over your first break-up. He had even listened to you talk about the boy you had fallen in love with.

Losing him felt like losing a part of yourself.

And now, five years later...that part of you has come home.

"Hi, Dot," he beams, reaching out to take hold of your chin and squeeze. "Shit, look at you. When did this happen?"

His eyes rake over your figure and you feel your skin grown hot under his appreciative gaze. "Stop, it hasn't been that long."

"The last time I saw you, I was helping you move into your new apartment across town,” he recalls, arms crossing in thought. "And now...now what? You’re still at your job, I assume?"

"I am. I just got a promotion, actually. I’m an assistant editor now.”

His eyes seem to light up, that soft green sending chills up the back of your neck as you glance down at your feet. "Dot...that's amazing. I'm so proud of you."

You wave the compliment away. "Thanks."

"Really," he insists before following you back to the counter where you'd previously been sitting. "I know how badly you wanted to pursue a career in publishing, and this...this is really amazing. Do you like it?"

"I do," you tell him as you settle back onto your stool. "Yeah, it's really nice. The people are great, the work is fun. Plus, the promotion came with a raise."

"That's amazing," he sighs, head shaking like he can't believe it. "Really, that's so...I honestly can't believe it. I can't believe it’s been so long. You’re so…adult now.”

You snort to yourself as you twirl your straw around your milkshake. "Yeah, I know. Though I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.”

"You should." He smiles, and it's big and beautiful. "You’ve always been grown up. Even before, you were mature for your age.”

“Well…yeah. I was twenty-three. That does make me an adult.”

“And now you’re twenty-eight.” He shakes his head again. “I can’t fucking believe it.”

You glance down at the rim of your glass. He’s right, it almost doesn’t seem possible. It feels like only last week that you were following him and your sister around town, begging to be included. Traipsing after them to bars, the mini golf course, and to any and all dates. Even though you knew your sister couldn’t stand it.

But Harry was nice and always inclusive. After all, he was your friend before he was your sister’s boyfriend. And he was determined to make sure that didn’t change, no matter how many times Atta rolled her eyes.

"I don't know how you put up with me," you finally admit. "God, I was so annoying. Atta used to get so mad at me for never leaving you alone."

He shrugs one shoulder up. "You weren't annoying to me. I liked it. I mean, I liked that you still felt so...safe? Around me? I guess?"

"Yeah, I did.” You smile. “Honestly, I think you were my best friend.”

He laughs as he looks back over. "I better have been.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Cause you were mine.”

"Good."

He smirks. "Remember how you used to fall asleep on my shoulder every time we watched a movie?”

"That's right," you groan, burying your face into the palm of your hand. "See? Annoying."

"Not annoying. Cute."

"It was not cute, it was annoying. And you know she hated it.”

“I don’t care. She fell asleep on my shoulder, too. It was nice.”

You snort. “It was weird, let’s face it. But I swear I've outgrown such habits."

He seems to hesitate for only a moment, eyes flicking between yours. "Too bad."

A beat.

You feel your stomach flip as you look away, breaking you both free of the tension. "So...what, um...what brings you to town? I was a little surprised to hear from you."

He takes the cup of coffee the waitress had poured him and slides it closer. "Oh, yeah, I'm...I'm here on business. And I remembered you lived here, so...I thought I’d reach out.”

"I see."

"Yeah.” He hesitates again. "And...I missed you."

You can’t fight the flutter in your chest. "I missed you, too, Har."

The conversation lulls as the busy diner continues to bustle around you. And despite how glad you are to see him, something feels...off. Different.

You aren't sure what. Can't quite put your finger on it. It almost feels like it used to, but something has changed. He looks like your Harry. He sounds like your Harry. He feels like your Harry. And yet, he feels like a stranger.

Maybe it's because it's been so long since you've seen him. Maybe it's because you aren't twenty-three anymore. Or maybe it’s because now he’s no longer Harry, your sister’s boyfriend.

Now he’s just…Harry. Your old friend.

When you notice the way he’s staring, your eyes narrow. “What?”

"Nothing." He shrugs again before chuckling under his breath. "No, nothing. Sorry, I just...I don't know. It's just...so strange to see you again. Like this."

"Like...this?"

"Yeah. Just us. Alone. No Atta.”

“Ah.” You swallow. “Right.”

“It’s not…weird, is it? I mean, it is weird but it’s not…uncomfortable, right?”

“No,” you rush to assure him. “No, I wanted to meet you. What happened with you two has nothing to do with me.”

He glances down at his lap. “Right.”

There’s an edge to the memory that wasn’t there before, yet despite your curiosity, you bite your tongue.

“What about you?” you say instead. “What have you been up to in the last five years?”

He smirks. “Oh, not much.”

“Uh-huh. You think I’ve grown up, you’re basically an old man now.”

“Yeah, yeah, all right. I’m only 34.”

“That’s still six years older than me, which makes you old.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m serious. You're not that idiot on a motorcycle anymore. Now you say things like, 'I'm in town on business,” and you wear expensive suits, and ridiculous watches."

He glances down at the aforementioned object on his wrist. "In my defense, this was a gift.”

“Sure.”

“It was,” he insists. His eyes flick over your face. “Look, I would have reached out sooner, but…after we broke up, I figured you wouldn’t want me to. I mean, you had just started your new job, and I knew it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to be a side, so…”

“There were no sides,” you argue softly. “You both just…grew apart. You wanted different things.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a sigh. “But I know it hurt her. It hurt me, too. And it was weird having to say goodbye to all of you. And leave all those memories behind. You were both such a huge part of my life."

"Yeah," you whisper. "You were a huge part of mine, too."

"Does Atta know you're meeting me?"

"No. Didn't really think it was any of her business. This is about us, not her."

His brow raises. "Would she be mad if she did?"

"I don't know,” you admit. “Probably not, but...would it really matter?"

"Of course it would. I'd never want to get in the way of your relationship."

"You aren't," you insist. "Look, she's dating somebody anyway. And I'm sure you are, too. You've both moved on. We're just...old friends catching up, and she'd have to understand that."

He seems to consider this before saying, "Yeah. I'm not, though."

"You're not...what?"

"Seeing anybody," he clarifies, tongue coming out to swipe across his bottom lip. "Haven't really dated anybody since she and I broke up."

"Oh, Harry," you murmur. "I'm...I'm sorry—"

"No. No, don't be," he insists. "It wasn't...I've just been busy. Working at the firm and renovating my house. I've gone on some dates but nothing serious. I just...haven't met the right person, I guess."

"The right person, huh?" you muse teasingly as you take a sip of your drink. "Okay, and what does Harry Styles' right person look like?"

He exhales an amused chuckle. "God, I don't know. I don't really think I'm that picky. Just...anybody I can get along with, I suppose."

"That's it? No, 'They need a fat ass and the ability to make me a sandwich?'"

He grins so big, the corners of his eyes crinkle. "For fuck's sake. No, nothing like that. Look, I don't know. Call me old fashioned, but...I think sometimes you meet somebody, and you can just...tell. You know? There's this energy, this shift. You look at them...and it all just makes sense.”

And as he looks you, waiting for you to consider this…the air shifts.

"Yeah," you agree quietly, allowing your attention to fall down his features and land on his lips. "Yeah, that's...you're right."

He seems to notice the way your focus has wandered because he quickly clears his throat and looks back down at his mug. "What, um...what about you? I'm assuming you're seeing somebody."

You look away as well, willing yourself to calm. "Oh? And why do you assume that?"

"Come on," he nearly snorts, eyebrow cocking. "Look at you. You're beautiful and you're smart and you have this effortless ability to make anyone around you feel good. Who wouldn't want to date you?"

"Well...pretty much every male in the city," you retort. "I don't know. I've tried dating but...there's always something missing. It never really feels quite right."

"Yeah. I know what you mean," he hums. "There's this...disconnect. Like you're forcing something that you know isn't right."

"Exactly! It's not that I don't want to find somebody, I just...haven't. It's not as easy as it is with you."

His head tilts. "With me?"

"Yeah, you know," you sigh, hands waving about the air as you try to explain your point. "I haven't seen you in five years but we still, just...picked right back up, you know? As if no time had passed. We're still just us. We can talk, and we can laugh, and we don't have to force anything."

He nods. "Right."

"I mean, honestly? Sometimes I think it would be easier to date somebody I already know. The problem is that all the guys I know are assholes. And too immature, I guess. They've got no sense of purpose, no drive. And it’s not like I need to be taken care of, but…it’d be nice to know they could. You know?”

"Yeah. You need someone with a good head on their shoulders."

"Exactly. I need someone who feels more like an equal than this thing I need to take care. I want to date a man, not a Tamagotchi."

He laughs again and the sound brings the butterflies back to your stomach. You feel proud to have amused him. And even more proud of the way he casually places a hand on your arm as he takes a deep breath.

When he lets go, you look down at the spot on your skin as if you can still see outline of his fingers.

"You'll find somebody," he tells you, and you do your best to ignore the sparks dancing up the back of your neck. "You will. And they'll be perfect for you. Old enough to know better and wise enough to do it right."

You place your palm over the spot he once touched, squeezing it gently. "Yeah. Hey, and you, too. Anybody would be lucky to have you."

His eyes linger on yours. "Yeah?"

You smile. "Yeah."

The next few minutes are devoted to sharing stories about your families. He asks how your parents are, you ask about his. He tells you about his job and you tell him about your roommate. You recall every detail of the past five years, and once you've finally caught up to today, he pays for your drinks, and offers to walk you home.

You make your way along the busy streets of the city as Harry tells you that he's thinking about getting a cat. You laugh and tell him that he'd make a wonderful cat dad, and he seems to flush.

You wonder why.

Fifteen minutes later, you're walking up the steps to your building, already apologizing for the messy state of your apartment before he's even stepped foot inside.

He snorts the implication away, assuring you that no matter what, it can't be worse than how Atta used to keep her place.

And the mention of your sister breeds an odd feeling in your chest. Unease, and this strange tinge of jealousy. Like you're almost peeved at him for bringing her up. For reminding you that he's seen the inside of her room before.

But you shake it away as you push the door open, refusing to linger on the thought.

"Well...this is it," you declare, stepping aside to let him enter. "Probably looks smaller than you remember, but…it does the trick.”

He takes a moment to glance over your knickknacks and decor before he grins. “I love it.”

"Really?"

"Yeah." He shoves his hands into his expensive coat pockets and nods. "Yeah, really. It feels...fitting."

"What do you mean?"

"I don’t know. It just feels like you.”

Your teeth gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you walk to the kitchen. "Well...thanks. I think."

You offer him a glass of water, to which he declines, before you join him back by the door. You're not sure that you’re quite ready to say goodbye, but you know he can't stay forever.

You wonder if you actually want him to.

You wonder if it would be so bad if you did.

"This was…really nice," he says as he takes a half-step through the doorframe. "Really, Dot. I'm proud of you. And everything you’ve done. And I'm really glad that I can still call you my friend after everything."

Your heart starts to pound a little harder inside your chest. "Yeah, me too. I really missed you, Har. I hope we can catch up again soon."

The side of his mouth curls up as his eyes soften. "I'd like that."

With that, he moves into the hall, and you close the door behind him.

The feeling that follows is...strange. Overwhelming. Like something is wrong. Like something has just been ripped away from you.

Like something is missing.

You feel on edge. Off-balance. Confused and unsure and you have no idea why. There’s a pain in your stomach that wasn’t there before and a hollowness in your heart that didn’t exist before you saw him.

Suddenly, there's a sharp knock on your door. "Dot?"

He's back.

Confused and slightly excited, you swing it back open to find him braced against your frame. He’s quiet as he studies you, brows woven together in what appears to be deep thought before he strides back inside your apartment and begins to pace your floor.

"Okay," he begins. Strained. "Okay, tell me...tell me this isn't just me. Tell me this isn't just in my head."

You shut the door. "What do you mean?”

He looks at you before frantically gesturing between your two bodies. "This. This thing we’ve been doing all afternoon. Tell me it's not just me. Tell me you feel it.”

And you're almost certain you know what he means, but the implication of it scares the shit out of you.

So, you simply tilt your head. "Har...feel what? I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Us.” He stares at you. “Us, there's something...there's something different here. Something that wasn't here before."

"Like...?"

"Like...like the way you look at me," he says, eyes on yours as you feel your heart begin to race. "You never used to look at me that way."

Your lashes flutter, and suddenly, you feel acutely aware of the way you've begun to gawk at him. Have you been looking at him differently?

"And the way you speak to me," he continues. "Talking about needing someone to take care of you. Someone older. Someone...more mature."

You swallow.

He takes a step closer. "And all day, you've just...you’ve found a way to brush your hand against mine. Or your arm. And you laugh at everything I say, even when it isn't funny. And I know you. I know this can't be what I think it is, but...you gotta tell me I'm not going crazy. You have to tell me it's not just...me."

And you realize now that you have an easy way out. You could brush off the accusation and tell him that it is just in his head. That he's your sister's ex-boyfriend, and he's your friend, and that you would never make a pass at him.

But then you say, "…what if it wasn't just you?"

He goes still, lips parting as he leans back. Almost as if struggling to understand what you've just said.

Truth be told, you're struggling to understand it yourself. You hadn't realized just how differently you'd been acting toward him. Or that you’d begun to wonder what would happen if he was your Harry instead of hers.

Because he’s not hers anymore. He’s just a man. A very attractive man. With a job, and a house, and enough emotional maturity not to make a fart joke every three minutes.

And it's not your fault that you're starting to see him in a different light. It's been years. Five whole years since you've spoken to him and you're both adults now. Completely different people, and would it really be the worst thing if you wondered what could have been?

"Dot…" he begins slowly, clearly wrestling with what he wants to say, "…you don't…I don't think you really know what you're doing."

You take a step as well, challenging him. "What am I doing?"

"You're...you're—" His fingers find the bridge of his nose as he squeezes. Hard. "Fuck, Dot. Don't…don't do this—"

"Do what? Flirt with you?"

His palms fly to his ears with a wince. "Stop. No, you didn't...you didn't say that. You're not flirting with me. You're not flirting with me—"

"What if I am?" you retort, following after him with a surge of confidence you didn’t realize you had. "Why would that be so wrong?"

"Because,” he scoffs, shooting a stern look your way. "You’re Atta’s little sister. And we’re friends. And you’re basically a child—"

"I'm not a child," you remind him. "I'm twenty-eight. I've been making capable decisions for quite some time now—"

"But not this," he hisses, the muscles in his neck straining. "Not…shit. You can't do this. You can't—”

"Why not? You said it yourself, there's something different here—"

"But not this—"

"Why not?"

"Because…you're you," he huffs. "You're...you're my best friend, and my ex’s little sister, and I’m…I’m just this big, bad man come to ruin you.”

And somehow, the idea goes straight to your cunt.

"You're not ruining me, Harry," you say, even though you wish he would. "We’re adults. Old friends catching up and realizing that maybe things can be different now."

He takes in a breath. "But they can't be. They can't be different—"

"Why—"

"Because it's not right—"

"What's not right? What?" you argue. "Is it just the age difference? Is it Atta? Is it that you aren't attracted to me, because I know you were flirting with me, too—"

His entire face twists into a grimace as he inhales sharply and presses his hands back over his ears. "God. Don't say that—"

"You were," you insist. "Like it or not, I'm not the little girl you used to know. All right, and there's...there's nothing wrong with us testing the waters—"

He steels himself, arms dropping back to his sides. "We can't."

"Why?" you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. "Why can't we? Huh? We're not breaking any rules. We're not doing anything illegal. I don't see what's so wrong with just trying—"

"I'd ruin you," he says again, with so much conviction that it makes your stomach drop. "I would ruin any chance you had at a normal relationship—a normal life. All right, being with me...it would complicate everything. And I'd never do that to you—"

"I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm just asking you to try—"

"Try what?"

"Try seeing." You take another step, making sure you have his full attention. "Just…try seeing if what we think is here is actually here. If maybe we were meant to find each other again after all this time. If this is where it all finally makes sense."

He considers this for a moment. Considers you. And you aren't sure when you suddenly became so enamored by the thought of Harry, but you’re here now. And he’s here. And there’s a shift.

And it feels right.

Then, his head begins to shake. "No. No, I know better. I have to know better. I have to do better than this. I can't...God, I can't believe I'm even...no. No, you mean too much to me for me to ruin this."

You feel your chest deflate as your lips press into a thin line. And you stare at him. You stare and you see the indecision and anguish on his face. You see the way he wrestles with the idea you've given him. The way he wrestles with himself.

The way he wrestles with you.

You don't want to push him. Because you know this is something you can never take back. And maybe there's just too much adrenaline in your veins right now. Maybe you aren't thinking straight, and once he leaves and the moment passes, you’ll wonder what you were so worked up about anyway.

But right now, all you feel is disappointment.

"Fine," you whisper, and his eyes soften. "No, fine. You're right. You're right, this is...I never should have said anything. I was…confused. I was just happy to see you again and I thought it was something else, but…you're right. It's nothing. And I don't wanna be your mid-life crisis. I just want us to be friends again.”

Your tiny apartment falls silent as you both settle onto this conclusion. As you let your heartbreak dangle in the air.

Then, his fingers between to flex and his teeth begin to grit, and watch in real time as he starts to change his mind.

Then, he murmurs, “Oh, fuck it.”

Next thing you know, he's closing the gap between you, taking hold of your face and kissing you hard.

You don’t have time to process it. Don’t even care to process it. But you don’t care. Because everything makes sense now.

So, you feel him. Surrender to him. Indulge in the dominate pull of his hands on your jaw as he takes a taste of you on his tongue. As he presses his hips so hard into yours that you feel your knees go weak.

You make a noise in your throat as he goes deeper, and he growls. Like he's fighting himself. Fighting the urge to take as he begins roughly walking you back until you’re slammed against the wall.

He knows exactly what he's doing in a way that younger men never have. He makes you feel both taken care of and somehow, still completely helpless. You don't have to think about anything with him because he does everything.

He presses his strong, tall frame into yours until he practically disappears into you. His large hand grips onto the back of your neck as you whimper, taking control of the moment—of you—until the only thought left in your head is just more.

And you don't doubt that he'd give you more if you asked, but before you can, he pulls back, and puts the moment on pause.

You feel breathless. Dejected. Wilting in his hold as he meets your eye and looks for your reaction.

But he won’t find it. And you bite back a whine as you wait for him to come back.

He sweeps his thumbs along your cheek before sighing to himself. "Dot..."

You feel your stomach turn at the nickname. At the way it comes out raspy and desperate. "Don’t say it."

But he does, anyway. "We shouldn't do this."

"I know," you murmur, fingers disappearing into his hair while he seems to nestle into your touch. "I know, but I want to. I want to, Har. So…please don’t make me lose you again.”

Another beat passes before he groans and presses his forehead to yours. “God,” he nearly growls, and the sound makes your thighs squeeze together. “Dot—”

"I won't tell," you promise while his jaw clenches. "I won't, I swear. I'll be your secret."

Just like that, the hand he placed on your thigh tightens. Squeezing until you're squirming beneath him. He’s losing his conviction and you’re losing your patience.

"This is wrong," he mumbles. "S'wrong, Dot. I can't do this to you. Can't do this with you...I can't...I know better. I have to do better.”

You tug on his hair as you straighten up, whining beneath a strained breath. "I don’t want you to do better. I want you to do me.”

He exhales deeply with this, nose running down the side of your face as his lips travel to your neck. He seems to take refuge there, subtly pressing kisses to your throat as he thinks. "I want to," he tells you softly. "You have no idea how badly I want to. How badly I want to do everything for you. Show you how a real man fucks. Until you see stars.”

"Har," you just about gasp, anxious to have him do just that. "Please...please—"

"Fuck." His thigh slots between the both of yours and you writhe against him, searching for anything you might find. "Be so easy to take you. Be so easy to show you what you're missing. To wreck you until you’re begging for more—"

"So do it," you plead, pulling on him until his mouth meets yours. "Do it, Har. Please. Just once. Just once, and I promise I'll be so good. Be so good for you. Won't ever ask you again—"

His hold on you grows more determined before he's ripping you away from the wall and slinging you toward your bed a few feet away.

He’s on you in seconds, hovering about where you lie as you greedily grab for him. "Promise me," he hisses as his palm slips beneath your shirt, and a needy whimper bleeds from your throat. "Promise me that this is what you want."

"I promise," you repeat quickly, arching into his touch. "Promise—"

"Promise me...that you'll be good," he says next, fingers brushing over the material of your bra. "That you'll behave. That you'll do exactly what I tell you."

"Yes," you breathe, eyes falling shut.

"Fucking promise me..." he continues as he scratches down your chest, "...that you won't tell. That you'll be my dirty little secret. That you'll be mine. That you'll let me ruin you and that you'll fucking thank me for doing it—"

The last domino falls. Crashes to the ground as you tug him down to you so you can kiss him. So, you can prove your loyalty. Prove that this is everything you’ve ever wanted.

You feel him smile.

"You little fucking minx,” he purrs.

Your skin warms as Harry's stunned but unceasingly enthralled gaze lingers on the red lace of your underwear. However, his fingers move instead for your hips. His hauntingly empty touch ghosting across the fabric of your underwear as you anxiously await contact.

But he doesn't give it to you. Not quite, not yet. He just wants to look at you. Wants to drink you in. Allow himself the privilege of seeing what he never has before.

"Did you wear these just for me, little one?" he asks in a gravely drawl, eyes flicking up to yours from where he lays between your thighs.

You swallow as you look across your stomach at him. You're not sure why you picked out this particular set today. Perhaps it was a subconscious choice or perhaps destiny was simply on your side.

"Maybe," you murmur, nails curling into your palm as you work in shallow breaths. God, you need him to touch you. Need him to do something about the mess that's sitting two inches in front of his face.

The very same mess he's pretending he doesn't notice.

Your response encourages a smirk as he hums and glances back down at the little white bow placed delicately in the center. "S'cute, Dot," he says softly, pinching the ribbon between his thumb and forefinger. "Fucking precious, actually. Knowing you got yourself all dolled up. Just to see me."

He pulls his lip between his teeth and glances back over your face. He's amused by the weary and desperate expression you wear and you're two seconds away from groaning.

His touch moves down. Down, down, down until the pad of his finger brushes over your clit.

You tense before releasing a shaky exhale.

Satisfied with this reaction, he moves even lower. Until he finds that growing wet patch that's beginning to hurt.

"What's this?" he coos, looking down toward the darkened red fabric. "Oh, darling...s'this for me, too?"

You're not sure where your quippy attitude from before has gone because now you can do nothing but nod mutely as you shift beneath his hand.

"Yeah?" His eyebrow raises as he grins at you. "Is this what has you so anxious?"

You give him another nod.

He hums. "Think I need to see for myself, hm?" He smirks and pats his palms against your hips. "Take these off for me."

You quickly reach down to hook your fingers around the hem of your underwear and drag them down your thighs. Once they've been pulled from your body, you get ready to toss them onto the other side of the bed. But before they can be flicked from the tips of your fingers, Harry snatches them with his fist.

"Uh-uh," he tuts as he tucks them into his suit's breast pocket. "These are mine now."

You suck in a sharp, eager pant. "Har—"

"Shh." He settles back onto his stomach, hands curling around your thighs to guide them apart and allow him a better visual. "M'busy, little one."

But it’s nearly impossible to stay quiet as his warm breath fans across your pussy, making the mess that much more obvious to you both. In fact, you can practically see the glistening reflection in his eye as he studies your cunt in the most intimate of ways.

You're not sure what he wants. What he's doing or planning or thinking. And you don't know why, but the way he stares at you does more for the apprehensive coil in your gut than him actually touching you has.

Finally, he makes another satisfied noise deep within the back of his throat before he brings his fingers back to you.

Two are placed just above your clit before he teasingly drags them down. However, when your hips buck up, he merely shoves them back down with a tsk.

Once you’re still, he starts again. Easing himself through your folds as he spreads you with the utmost glee. Fascinated by the way your body feels, the way it reacts to him.

His tongue sits between his lips as he ventures down, and the moment he finds the pooling of arousal waiting for him...you see the muscles in his neck contract.

"Darling…" The nickname is whispered across your body as he scoots closer. "Bet this hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes," you reply instantaneously, straining around the singular word as you resist the urge to whimper.

He circles the tip of his finger around your aching hole, almost as if to test you. "Oh, precious girl...how long, hm? How long have you been in so much pain?"

Truthfully, since you hugged him at the diner.

"All day," you say aloud, hands gripping onto the duvet beneath you. "All day, Har. Been thinking about you all day."

And that is the honest answer. You'd been anxiously awaiting your meeting from the moment you woke up.

But he smiles as if he knows better, despite the way he seems to bask in your response. "All day, hm? And what were you gonna do if I never came back? Were you just gonna sit here and rub your pretty thighs together?"

Your heart skips while your hands gather atop of your stomach.

His brow raises. "No? Well then how were you gonna take care of it, hm?"

For a moment, you think this is simply rhetorical, but the longer the silence stretches, the more obvious it becomes that he expects an answer.

You swallow the odd lump in your throat. "How do you think?"

"Uh-uh," he chastises again. "I wanna hear you say it. Want you to tell me exactly how you were gonna fix this little problem of yours had I not been here."

Your head flops back against the pillows as you glare at the ceiling. He's always been rather infuriating but now he's a menace.

"Dot..." He's warning you. Calling you back. Urging you not to be so bratty.

With a tentative sigh, you look back at him. "My...vibrator."

He perks up. "Yeah?"

You nod faintly.

"Tell me how," he instructs next, jutting his chin toward you. "Better yet...show me. Show me how you've been taking care of yourself all these years."

Feeling rather embarrassed under the spotlight of such an intimate request, you shyly look over toward your nightstand and outstretch a hand. After pulling the drawer open, you slip inside and find the purple wand that's just small enough to fit snugly inside your palm.

And Harry watches with a certain wonder in his eye as you bring the dainty toy closer. Yet, he says nothing while you slowly guide it toward your stomach and down to your thighs.

But he does, however, shift in order to make room, scooting back by a hair to allow you the space you need to place the head right above your aching clit.

For some reason, doing something so private in front of him feels...odd. Strange and almost unsettling. And perhaps that's just nerves, but you can't deny the heat that rushes to your face as he looks between you and the vibrator.

"S'this it, then?" he murmurs, a hint of teasing laced within the remark. "Don't even have to turn it on?"

Your thumb taps against the power button, a nervous tic, although you refrain from switching the toy on just yet. "No..."

His smirk is borderline haughty. "Then what do you do, little one? How do you use it?"

You say nothing. You hold his stare, and you hold a deep breath, and you hold the wand to your glistening cunt.

Then...you flip the switch.

The soft, dainty vibrations echo across the room, across your bodies, and across your clit as it's met with the instant stimulation of the pulsating wand.

You choke on a gasp as you return your eyes to the ceiling, allowing for the feeling to take control of each remaining sense.

And as you do, Harry's hands make themselves known to you as they begin to smooth up your legs, helping guide your thighs further apart once again.

There's an ever-so-slight stretch that follows as your muscles are pulled, and the distinctive burn makes your lashes flutter shut.

"There you go," he whispers. "So pretty, darling. God, could watch you do this all day."

Truthfully, you imagine you’re quite a sight. After all, you’ve watched yourself before. You know how it looks. Know exactly the kind of visual fantasy Harry is witness to right now.

So, you play it up, give him a show. After all...he's got a front row seat.

You rotate the head slowly, circling down and around your hole before retreating and dragging the object back up and through.

And you shiver every time it brushes against that particular sweet spot. Every time the pulses slow just to speed up once more. It's almost torturous the way your body is being bent to such salacious desires. And cruel the way you're forced to do this while he only watches.

A whimper slips free, and you arch off the bed, pressing the toy as tight against your body as you can stand.

You hear Harry chuckle.

"Easy," he warns before you feel his fingers curl around your wrist, encouraging your grip to relax. "Take it slow, Dot. Not in a hurry, are you?"

"No," you breathe, head shaking zealously. "No, m'just...feels good."

"Does it?" He almost sounds surprised. "Hm. Interesting. Seeing as you're doing it wrong."

Your head lifts.

He glances toward the vibrator. "May I?"

You nod.

Pleased, he slips the toy free from between your fingers and clears his throat. Focused eyes landing on your body as he readies the bullet.

Then...he begins.

It meets your clit—an innocent, familiar touch—before it's instantly being dragged down. He's slow with it. Giving you enough time to feel each particular flutter and twitch.

Your soft gasps and grateful sighs carry him further, until the tiny head of the toy is swimming through your arousal. You fall still, attention locked on the man by your knees.

But he’s still focused. Soft, green eyebrows weaving together as his pretty cherry lips stretch into a smile.

Something changes—everything changes—when he slips the head inside. Your entire body ripples from the vibrations as you stumble over his name and squirm across the mattress.

He only laughs before placing his arm overtop your stomach to keep you cemented to the bed. "None of that. Stay still for me."

"Har," you whisper, depleted of any strength. "Please..."

"What, little one? What do you want?"

"I need...please, I'm..."

"What? Does it feel good?"

"Yes. Yes...yes, feels so good. Please..."

"Please what? What do you want, sugar?"

More. Everything. Anything. "Fuck, I'm—don't stop. Please don't stop."

"Oh, darling," he breathes. "I'd never dream of it."

He takes the toy out and moves it back to your clit, circling gently a few times before pressing down hard.

And you almost miss the full feeling it provided as it was eased into you, but before you can dwell for too long...Harry's extending his fingers and slipping them into your cunt.

Not one, but two of those beautiful digits push past your walls and begin to stretch you, ripping a gasp from your throat at the simultaneous stimulation.

"Attagirl," he murmurs from below, and you can hear the smug undertone. "That's what you wanted, hm? Needed something to fill you."

Your chest heaves, the red lace of your bra lifting and falling as you roll your head back. "God, Har—"

"Tell me, darling," he continues, easing himself out just to push back in. "Were you gonna use your own fingers? If I wasn't here? Gonna ride your pretty little hand?"

You can't tell if he already knows the answer or if he just wants to picture your hand between your thighs.

Either way, you pant out, "Mhm."

"Yeah? How many, honey? How many were you gonna use?"

"...two."

He tsks, seemingly disappointed with this answer. "Just two? Hm. And would it have felt like this, darling? Would they be able to do it for you the way mine can?"

To accompany this ask, he curls upward, nearly yanking the pleasure out of you as you choke on a cry and writhe away from him.

"Fuck—" Your teeth tug on your bottom lip. "Shit, Har—"

"Is that a no, then?" He thrusts his fingers out and back in again. "Would you have gotten yourself this wet...with just your own hand?"

The sound of him slipping through your arousal meets your ear as you groan and look down.

"No?" He adds a third finger while making sure to keep the wand of the vibrator exactly where it needs to be. "What about when you thought of me? Would that have done it for you, sugar? Thinking of me while you soaked your sheets? While you dripped down your knuckles as you fucked yourself?"

You've never heard a man talk to you this way. You already knew his experience superseded that of any man you'd been with before but this. None of those other boys ever knew how. But Harry...God. He knows just what to say. Knows exactly what you need to hear, and it overwhelms you.

"Har...Har—"

"Need an answer," he reminds you, but when you refuse to offer him one, he takes himself away. His fingers, the toy, his body. Leaning away completely as your pussy goes completely quiet.

"Harry," you just about moan, pushing up onto your elbows to leverage the playing field. "You...I'm...I was just—"

"Disobeying," he answers for you. "That's what you were doing. And I don't think that's fair, do you?"

You frown. You know this tone he's taking with you. Authoritative and condescending. It makes you huff. "Fine. I'll try again."

"Good girl," he murmurs, nodding at you as if to encourage confidence.

"I...wait, what was the question again?"

He smiles at this, releasing an amused chuckle beneath his breath before crawling back to you. His hands find the mattress beside your hips and he settles between your parted thighs, lips dangerously closer now.

And you can smell him. Smell his cologne, and his aftershave, and his shampoo. Can feel the heat radiating off his body, even through the expensive suit. Can see how much he wants to take care of you—ruin you. As promised.

"Do you get yourself this wet...when I'm not around?" he repeats, and the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

Your breath hitches. "No."

The answer was always obvious, but you know he needed to hear you say it.

"Do you touch yourself...the way I touch you?"

"No."

"Can you make yourself come the way I can?"

"God, no—" you gasp before taking hold of his face and smashing his mouth against yours.

His lips are perfect and his kiss is perfect and the two of you are perfect together. A connection so seamless, so effortless...it's as if you were always meant to be.

A ridiculous notion, you think to yourself, but right now...it's quite nice.

He pulls himself back just enough to meet your eye and offer a devious grin. "Then let’s find out, hm?"

Rough fingertips travel up the length of your inner thigh, forming goosebumps in the wake. You shiver, ready to receive his touch once again before he dances right past your cunt, and up your hip.

He moves for the lace on your chest, tugging on the wire between your breasts with a disappointed tsk.

"I want this gone," he decides, plucking it from your skin. "Need to see all of you, Dot."

And before you can even reach back to undo the hook, he's looping an arm underneath your back, lifting you up, and flicking the clasp free.

Once done, he yanks the bra down your arms and body before flinging it somewhere behind him.

Your eyes shut as your naked chest is revealed to him, heart hammering against your ribcage.

But then, you feel those lips again. He wraps his mouth around your left nipple before you can even whisper his name, sucking on you as though he's determined to make you see stars.

Which you do the moment his teeth pull on the sensitive skin. And you can't help but mewl as his tongue flicks cruel and merciless patterns against before moving for your collarbone.

He groans as he goes, situating his knee between your legs and pressing it directly against your cunt. His other hand gropes at your right breast, kneading at the tender flesh until his mouth reaches your neck. He nips at a vein just below your jaw and you arch up into him, chest knocking into his.

He sucks sweet bruises into the curve of your throat before licking apologies over the newly ruined skin. It's slow and painful and beautifully good.

Everything about him is beautiful and good.

His entire body seems to cater to yours as he cages you to the mattress and easily pulls whimpers from your throat. As he touches you, and pleases you, and knows you in a way nobody else ever has.

You grind yourself against his leg before glancing down. And that’s when you notice the way your arousal has begun to soak through his nice pants. The way a dark little patch seeps into the fancy—and expensive—material. A sight both erotic and humiliating.

Your whimper forces his eyes to where yours reside, and he smirks when he sees your mess.

"What's the matter, little one?" he asks, taking his hand from your tit and using it to grab onto your jaw. "Are you embarrassed?"

You nod, despite his hold.

"Oh, my dirty little girl,” he hums. “I don't mind you soaking my trousers. But I'd rather you soak my cock."

You'd rather that, too, and you're more than grateful when he leans back to undo his belt. You don't know where this will lead you. If you’ll fuck him and then lose contact for another five years.

Or if you’ll fuck him and change everything.

But right now, you don't mind. You'll happily exist in this moment with him. In these bad decisions until you're coming so hard, you forget your own name.

He leans back to begin ridding himself of his clothes and you scramble upward to help him along. Your greedy hands grab at his jacket and his shirt, wrestling them down his arms and off his broad chest. Wanting to see him the way he can see you.

You nearly moan when his inked skin is revealed to you. You knew he'd gotten a few tattoos in college, and even some a bit after. But seeing them now, painted across such a tan, toned canvas makes your head spin.

"Easy," he laughs, reaching out to swipe his thumb beside your mouth to collect the pooling drool. "Save some for me, hm?"

But you can't. Instead, you take his finger between your lips and bury it beside your tongue.

Surprised, his lashes flutter. But once you realize he won’t be able to undo his pants without both hands, you regretfully pop his digit free. Allowing him to slip out of his briefs until his cock springs free.

He’s…perfect. Still. Somehow. Red and swollen and leaking just for you. And you clench from the mere thought of having something so beautiful inside you.

You crawl closer, eager for a taste, but Harry simply grabs hold of your chin.

"Yes, little one?" he murmurs, using his other hand to hold his cock. "Did you want something?"

You nod and lean forward another inch.

"All right," he concedes, pumping himself before subtly tugging you down. "Just a taste, honey. Since you've been so good."

He leads your mouth to him and without a moment's hesitation, you outstretch your tongue, and drag it along the underside.

You revel in the way you feel him twitch. In the way he exhales a deep breath through parted lips while moving his fingers to your hair, guiding you closer but not too close. Just enough to get him on your tastebuds.

You hum when you reach the tip, eager to indulge in the pre-cum already beading in pearly drops. And the vibrations from your eager appreciation make the muscles in his stomach quiver as he curses your name.

However, you barely get the chance to wrap your mouth around him before he's yanking on your hair, and straightening you back up.

"What did I say?" he hisses. "Don't be greedy, Dot."

"I'm sorry," you whisper, swallowing the bit of him still lingering in your mouth. "M'sorry, won't do it again."

"No, you won't. Or I'll go back on my promise."

"No," you whine, needy fingers wrapping around his wrist to keep him close. "No, won't do it again. I promise."

You know he’s amused with your desperation, and even though you're slipping fast, he can't help but be entertained. "We'll see, little one."

With a fervent motion of your head, you scramble back to the pillows to lay down, legs spreading as if to invite him in.

He smirks as he strokes his cock a time or two more while settling himself between your thighs. You imagine he could have you in a number of ways, a plethora of positions. But he chooses this. He chooses to see your face this first time. To see every ounce of pleasure etched within your features.

And truth be told, you don't mind. You could stare at him forever.

"Do you have any condoms?" he asks next, dipping down to press his lips to yours for only a second. "Or would you prefer to go without?"

You consider this. You're on birth control and you do have a bit of a creampie kink, so you shake your head.

"Without," you answer quickly before lifting an eyebrow. "Unless you'd like to?"

"No," he chuckles, placing a kiss to your nose this time. "Just wanted to make sure. Promised to take care of you, and that's what I plan to do."

Your heart flutters.

"Okay, gonna need you to be good, honey," he tells you now, large palm landing on your hip to steady you. "Gonna need you to take me and do as I say, all right? And I'll make it worth it."

"I will," you agree quickly, fingers traveling up the dips in his arms, ghosting over each muscle until you reach his shoulders. "Be so good, Har, promise."

"Uh-uh." His hand smacks against your inner thigh in warning before his thick eyebrow cocks up. "S'not my name, darling. Not right now."

Curious as to what he might mean, you study him for only a moment before you realize.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

Just like that, something in his demeanor switches.

Truth be told, the name doesn't do much for you. But you revel in the way he feeds off it. Find absolute euphoria in the way he lights up at your obedience until you want nothing more than to please him again. To call him anything he wants as long as he keeps looking at you like that.

"Good girl," he growls beneath a deep breath before he's bringing his cock closer.

He starts by dragging it along your clit, making you jolt and buck before his hand splays across your stomach to force you back down.

"No," he says simply, eyes fixated on the torture he's currently implementing.

He does it again, letting your swollen, puffy clit jump from the slight brush of his tip while he drags it through your arousal and shifts forward.

"Breathe," he orders next, stealing a quick glance at your puckered lips and wide eyes. “All right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He slides in slowly, pushing past your tight walls, coaxing the muscles to stretch to his size.

At first, it's nothing more than a soft, easy sensation. Relaxing, in a sense as it aids the ache and fills the void his fingers left behind.

Then...he goes deeper.

And this is what you'd been waiting for. The slight tension and subtle burn as your body is forced to accommodate him. You're thankful he goes slow. Not just because of the pain. But because you both want to watch.

You want to watch the way he pulls your body apart. Wanna watch him disappear into your tight hole that pulls him in. Wanna watch the way you flutter and clench and claim him the way he’s claiming you.

"Oh, that's my fucking girl," he groans to himself. "Fucking hell, Dot. Didn’t think you’d be so tight."

"Yeah, well…never had someone like you before," you tease, gauging your body's reaction by slowly rolling your hips up.

"Yeah?" His hand lands on your throat, smoothing up the sides of your neck until he can squeeze a gasp from your lips. “Never, huh?”

You shake your head and with one quick thrust, he bottoms out, forcing a strangled cry as you arch into him.

“Never had someone stretch this pretty pussy the way it deserves, yeah?” He tsks again. “What a fucking shame.”

He rears back, and the pain and the pleasure that follow him out make your chest cave in.

However, he’s quickly driving himself back in before you can complain, pushing past the fluttering muscles once more as you keen and rake your nails down the blanket.

"Harry," you breathe, his name like a lifeline as you drown in his sin.

But it earns you another firm smack to your outer thigh as he grunts his disapproval into your neck. "No," he warns before nipping just below your jaw. "You know better."

But really…you don’t. "Sir...please," you amend.

"Hm. S'a good girl," he praises. "Knew you'd behave for me, yeah? My perfect little toy—"

A rather debauched moan rips from between your gritted teeth as his hips ram into yours. You can feel him everywhere. In your stomach, in your head, in your heart. His legs against yours, his chest against yours, his entire body against yours until you're almost convinced he's gonna become one with your bloodstream.

Not that you'd mind.

His arm slips beneath you once more in order to lift you up and provide him with a new angle. Then, he thrusts himself into you again as your mouth hangs open in a silent gasp for air.

"There she is, that's what you needed. Yeah, little one?' He does it again, brushing against that one spot that makes your toes curl. "The other boys never did it, did they?"

You whine, knees bending besides his hips as you attempt to follow after him when he pulls back.

But he's quick to tut and knock you back down onto your ass. "No. You don't rush me, darling. We do this my way. On my time. If I wanna stay here and fuck you nice and slow, then you’ll behave, and you’ll fucking take me.”

You’d like to agree, but he’s thrusting himself back in before you can.

"You will thank me for taking my time," he continues in a coarse cadence that seems to reverberate from his chest. "You will thank me...for being so goddamn good to you. And you will thank me…for doing it right."

"Harry, please—" you just about wail, hands finding his arms as you grasp on for dear life.

But the fingers around your throat tighten until the edges of your vision begin to blur.

"There you fucking go again," he growls, stilling his rhythmic attacks as he meets your eye. He seems to enjoy watching your focus go fuzzy. "Starting to think you like to be punished, hm? And here I thought you had a praise kink."

You clutch onto his wrist, nails scratching along the veins in his arm as he pounds into you at a harder pace.

But you don't mind. You enjoy watching him give into the voices inside his head. Enjoy the way his chocolate brown curls sweep across his forehead, the way his eyebrows weave together and the muscles in his jaw constrict.

For a 34-year-old man, he seems to possess quite a bit of stamina. He'd mentioned earlier his enjoyment for running and exercising, detailing his rather excessive and diligent routine.

And you'd smirked because you'd assumed he was showing off or because he was trying to stay ahead of the inevitable "dad-bod" in his future.

But now you understand why he's really so meticulous. He's a long way from looking his age. Apart from some subtle, but soft crinkles near his eyes and a few gray hairs that peek through the auburn waves, he looks rather youthful.

And his body. You swallow another noise as you let your hungry gaze trail over every inch, every muscle, every quiver in his thighs as he braces himself above you.

Sir feels like a more appropriate title to you now. Because he is. He is your superior in this moment A man to be respected and revered. Someone who not only knows better,.but knows you. Knows your body and how to play it like an instrument.

There's something exciting about submitting to him. Something tantalizing about being at his mercy. Most of the other men you've been with have felt more like your equals than anything else. Which you haven't minded in the least bit.

But the way Harry has managed to fit you into the submissive, subservient role so quickly suggests that perhaps...this is where you were always meant to be.

Beneath him.

"Oh, honey," he coos, a mix of condescension and amusement. "Can feel you squeezin' me. Need it so bad, don't you? Need to come, hm?"

"Yes. Yes," you whisper, nuzzling your face into his neck, lips eagerly pressing into the salty skin at your disposal. "Please, Ha—Sir. Please let me come. Can't...can't hold it—"

"You will,” he says before he’s grabbing hold of your wrist and hosting it above your head. Burying into the pillow and preventing you from reaching for your clit. “Forget it, Princess. Told you to take me. So you will. Exactly how I tell you.”

"Sir—"

"I said no. I plan to keep you here for quite some time. Plan to feel you coming around my cock as many times as I see fit. And I expect you to behave for me the way you promised. Can you do that? Or do I need to stop?"

"No," you gasp, tears springing to your eyes at the very thought. "No, no, please—"

"Then what are you going to do?"

You swallow a moan and lift your chin proudly. "Take it."

A pleased smile crawls across his face as he hums and dips down to press his mouth to yours. "There she is," he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip. "My good girl. Try to remember that, yeah? Or I'll keep you here all day."

However, that’s something else you wouldn't exactly mind, and you shiver as he pushes your knee into your chest.

"Fucking hell, Dot," he mumbles, eyes falling back down to where you're coating his cock. "Oh, my perfect toy. Look at the way you treat me, honey. Treat me so well, fucking soaking me, aren't you—"

"Yes, Yes, please…"

"I know. I know, little one. Feels so good to be filled, yeah? To be fucked the right way—"

"God, yes. More...please—"

"More, huh? Need more? Need me to make it better? Need me to fucking take—"

Suddenly, your phone rings.

The soft, melodic chime cuts through Harry’s vulgar response, bringing the moment to a close as his thrusts falter and he glances over.

God, you hate that stupid, evil, sadistic machine. Right now, you wish you'd never bought it. You wish you could throw it again the wall until it shatters into a thousand fucking pieces so as long as he just keeps going.

Instead, he searches your nightstand for the small device before he's releasing your leg in order to reach for it.

"No, Har," you plead, attempting to grab onto his hand. "Just let it go to voicemail, it's fine—"

"But that wouldn't be very polite, now, would it?" he tuts, glancing over the screen. "And I think you need to take this, darling."

"Harry, please—"

"Shh," he says sharply. “You're gonna take this phone call and you're gonna use your word. And then, and you're gonna come for me."

His thumb hovers over the green button and he guides the phone to your ear.

"And you're not gonna make a fucking sound," he adds, dropping his voice to a threatening hiss before pressing the receiver to your ear. "Or I fucking stop. Do you understand?"

You do your best to nod, and he smiles before tapping the screen.

Through a slight quiver, you say, "Hello?"

"Hey! Long time no talk, babe. How are you?"

Your eyes just about pop out of your head.

Atta.

Her cheerful tone and eager greeting make the blood drain from your face as you look up at the man hovering above you.

"Speak," he mouths with a wicked grin while nodding his chin at you.

But you can't. You physically cannot get the words to come out of your mouth as Harry keeps the device glued to the side of your head.

"H...hi," you stammer, forcing a more confident cadence. "I'm...good. How...how are you?"

"Oh, I'm good. Good, yeah," your sister replies, and you hear a bit of shuffling. "Been working a lot. Got today off, which is nice. God, you'd never believe how much shit we have to go through since we changed our filing system—"

"Mhm," you reply right as Harry rams his hips into yours.

You gasp and quickly turn your head away from the phone in an attempt to keep the excitable noise from making it into the microphone.

However, he uses his other hand to grasp onto your jaw and force you back. "No," he whispers, shooting you a stern look of warning. "You know better."

"—which is wild because we've been using the same program since '08," Atta is saying, although you can hardly hear her over the imminent pleasure rushing through your veins. "But...whatever. Once we're done, it'll make things so much easier. Which will be nice. I can cut back on my hours—"

"Yeah, mhm," you repeat, and it's outrageously strained as Harry pulls himself out, leaving you depraved and so goddamn empty.

You have to fight the urge to cry out for him, glancing down at the string of arousal that follows his cock. And it's almost too much for you to handle as you greedily reach for him once more.

However, he bats your hands away and brings his free fingers from your chin to your clit, rubbing into the sensitive nerves until you arch up.

"—so, yeah. What about you?"

Your eyes squeeze shut as that tightly wound ball of pleasure in your stomach expands. "I'm...I...good. I'm...good. You know, not...not a lot going on. At the moment."

Harry smirks to himself before sinking all the way back in and thrusting up.

Your lip fights its way between your teeth and you writhe beneath his chest while praying for the strength to stay quiet.

"Well...I guess no news is good news, yeah?" she chuckles. "Oh, hey, speaking of which...I heard that Harry's in town."

That's not the only thing he's in.

"Oh?" you squeak, placing a palm on Harry's chest almost as if in retaliation. "He is?"

"Yeah. Saw it on Facebook," she answers, and you hear her move around. "Figured he might try to reach out. I know you guys are still on good terms, right?"

"Me and Harry?" you repeat pointedly, garnering a curious look from the aforementioned man. "Uh...we're...yeah. I guess. But we’re not…that close."

He grins.

"Well...I just thought I'd let you know in case he does," she says, and your lashes flutter shut as the guilt begins to find you.

"Would it be weird...if he did?" you ask before the patterns being traced against your clit make you whimper.

Terrified, you quickly cough in an attempt at burying the sound, but Atta doesn't seem to hear.

"I mean...maybe? I don't know. He and I are fine, I think. And I know you two were friends. I guess you could at least...check on him. Make sure he's doing okay."

"Yeah," you breathe, sneaking a glance up. "I'm...I'm sure he's doing just fine."

Harry smiles once more before moving his palm to your thigh and pressing it into the bed to spread you at a different angle.

"I hope," Atta sighs. "Anyway, I wanted to call and check in. Just to make sure everything is going okay for you—"

"Mhm, yeah. I'm...I'm glad you did," you blubber while attempting to send Harry a pointed look. You're close. So fucking close, and if he keeps going...

"Are you sure you're all right? You sound a bit flustered—"

"Yes. Yes, yes, I'm..." Your head shakes quickly, nails scratching down Harry's chest in warning. He needs to stop. He needs to stop or you won't make it. "I'm fine. I'm...a little under the weather, but I'm—"

Suddenly, he sheathes himself inside your cunt, face burying in your neck with a groan as your entire body shivers.

"Are you sure? You kind of sound like you're in pain—"

"Listen, Atta, I...I gotta go—" you gasp, so close to your orgasm that you can practically taste it. “I’m sorry—”

"Oh, yeah. Hey, text me, okay? Just let me know that you're all right—"

"Mhm, yeah, I will—fuck—"

It happens before you can stop it. Ripping through every muscle and fiber in your body as you rake your fingers down Harry's back and choke on a moan.

Thankfully for you, Harry has already ended the call and thrown the phone to the other side of the room so he can loop his arm beneath your hips and tug you up into his body.

"Go," he breathes. "Give it to me. Come on, little one. Just like that. Good fucking girl, just like that. Let me feel you—"

Your room fills with the sound of his name, dancing effortlessly between the whimpers that follow.

It feels like you've touched heaven. A sensation so overwhelming and euphoric that you don't even realize his hand has returned to your throat. Don't realize he's squeezing your neck in his tight fist as he comes, filling your cunt with everything he has to give you.

You don't even realize you can't breathe, but you love it. Love the way he presses his teeth into your shoulder and presses his body into your chest. Until you're trapped against the mattress while you live through the high.

Every joint in your body aches. Radiating pain and pleasure all at once as you hook your leg over his hip and snake your arms around his neck.

And you keep him inside of you for what feels like hours. Even after you've regained a bit of consciousness. And a bit of common sense.

Perhaps the moment he pulls out, you'll realize the mistake you've made. You’ll realize that this isn't a secret you can keep. Or a choice that you can ever choose again. And maybe he’ll realize it, too.

But until then…

You’re happy to have your Harry back.

~ Masterlist

Taglist: @littlenatilda @prettythingsworld @heartateasee @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @monicaalexandraaa

@cinnamonone @triski73 @lemoncrushh @vamprry @lady-lamb21

@lillefroe @kirstiea05 @ribbonknives @lunaharrygurl @harringtonhundreds

@swiftmendeshoran @sundresstyles @eldahae @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs

@hannahdressedasabanana @sykostyles @lukesaprince @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus

@lovrave @nuggetdean @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @babegoals @lc-fics

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smileysuh · 8 months ago

Text

model cowboy

🌙 starring. Jeong Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You maintain eye contact until the moment your lips meet, and then, you do your best to just relax, to forget about the cameras pointed at you. You allow yourself to melt into the kiss, following Jaehyun's motions, following the gentle notes that soon become more heated. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and on instinct, you open your mouth for him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. You try to convince yourself that you’re leaning into this for the sake of the scene, that you’re just being good actors together, but there’s something underneath it all. There’s a desperation. You can almost taste it below the spearmint on his tongue.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, dry humping, breast worship, slow and adequate foreplay/pussy stretching/prepping, pussy eating, fingering, praise, slight switchy power dynamic but Jae is generally the dom/top, slight overstim, face riding, slight hair pulling, precum (jae is horny), dirty talk, sappy sex, alcohol, etc… I pet names: (hers) superstar.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.2k

🍭 aus.actor!Jaehyun, singer!y/n, fake dating au, enemies to lovers au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. it was actually so fun to have small clips of TMZ style gossip reporting- loved that I was able to try different things with this fic :)

Prologue

In this week's news, our favorite kids' show alumni are back on the scene together. Beloved model and actor Jung Jaehyun teams up with childhood costar (y/n) (l/n) for her new single Model Cowboy. This song will mark the kick-off of her third album, and the music video is set to start production sometime early next month, with the song coming out on iTunes and other streaming platforms sometime in the new year.

There’s a lot of buzz on social media about this pairing, as the two stars were ‘shipped’ incessantly in their teen years, with one user commenting, “It’s like Britney and Justin Timberlake all over again! Ah!!!!!”

While Jaehyun has had a string of relationships over the years, our favorite girl power singer y/n has only recently ended a long-term relationship with football player Lee Jeno. When asked how this separation would affect her new album, y/n had this to say: “I want to draw on the pain of a breakup because that feeling is so universal, but at the same time, I want the album to be fun. It’s about ending one cycle, and sure, giving yourself the space and grace to mourn that loss, but also looking forward at the future and other opportunities that come your way when you go through something like that.”

When asked about the new single Model Cowboy, y/n noted, “It’s about going back to your roots and finding that cowboy, blue-collar man. I think the trades are kind of in vogue right now, for all of the best reasons. We want salt of the earth, we want a man who will provide and take care of us- not everything is luxury and partying. There’s such peace in stability, and I want to honor the simplicity of good relationships, which we all deserve to experience.”

Despite all of this, when our reporters enquired about Jaehyun as the star of the music video, who, to us and many fans on social media, doesn’t scream ‘salt of the earth, cowboy, or stability’ our singer simply responded with “No comment.”

Yikes.

However, there may be hope for this fan-favorite couple yet. When Jaehyun was asked about his role in the music video at a recent film premiere for his new action movie ‘Home Grown’ he had this to say: “I did a few music videos in my early twenties, but never with anyone I really knew or admired. I’ve been focused on movies and fashion recently, but I’m excited to do a shorter-form art piece. y/n and her team are very creative, and I can’t wait to see the finished result.”

I can safely say that we can’t wait either.

Back when y/n was just eighteen, putting out her first album, there was one song that everyone thought she wrote about Jaehyun. We couldn’t help but bring this up to the actor. When questioned if he’d inspired y/n’s first hit single, ‘Forget About Him’, Jaehyun said, “That’s not for me to say, you’ll have to ask her.” This response revived years of conspiracy on social media, and we’re all still itching for the truth.

Production for Model Cowboy is set for the end of the month, and permits have been granted for shooting in California’s Joshua Tree National Park. We’ll all be on the edge of our seats waiting for promo pictures and behind-the-scenes photos.

Stay tuned for all things celebrity drama and news on our website, or follow us on Instagram and Snapchat for daily updates.

One:

You’re in your trailer with your assistant, Mark, waiting for your call time, and you can’t help the irritation that’s filling you. It’s the first day of shooting for Model Cowboy, and every other time you’ve filmed a music video, you’ve been excited about the creative journey of turning a song into a visual expression- but not today, and there’s one huge reason for your angst.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” you groan. “Jaehyun wasn’t my first choice for this, and he’ll never be my first choice for this- it takes away from the meaning of the song to have him starring with me!”

Mark frowns. “I mean, he’s not exactly a model cowboy-”

“More like a model pretending to be a cowboy,” you scoff.

Your assistant sighs. “Management just wants you two to do this, fake date for a while, promote your music and his upcoming projects, draw intrigue-”

“I know it’s what management wants, I was forced to sign the contract,” you snap. Then you release a breath, getting control of yourself. This isn’t Mark’s fault, in fact, he argued your side in the meeting about this two months ago. “I just… I’m not a huge fan of Jaehyun.”

“You always said he was the most overly confident, smug, pretty boy that came out of your kids’ show,” Mark nods. He’s very good at summing up your difficulties, as he’s your most trusted confidant. You’d never dream of being vocal about your personal opinions of Jaehyun to anyone else, your PR training has taught you not to be fully honest, to prioritize your reputation as a ‘good girl’- but Mark, he gets you.

“At the end of the day,” you sigh, “sure, Jae might be a better actor, but I’m the better singer.”

“I know you won’t want to hear this-”

“Then don’t say it.”

Mark sends you a pointed look. “He did do that cover of ‘I Like Me Better When I’m With You,’ and everyone loved it.”

“Well, Jaehyun doesn’t have three albums and a Grammy. He did a cover. It’s not like that’s difficult.”

Before Mark can say anything else, there’s a knock on your trailer. You jump up, ready to start the day of shooting, but when you open your door, it’s not a PA standing there to take you to location, it’s Jaehyun.

He’s dressed in a cowboy-style outfit, however, it’s more runway than practical, and he’s also wearing the same smug smile he always used to have on when you were working together as kids and young adults.

“Long time no see,” Jaehyun muses.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t pretend you’re happy to see me.”

You know your dislike for Jaehyun is shared with his own disdain for you, and you’d noted that to your managers. How are either of you going to pretend to be in love when this general dissatisfaction with each other is evident every time you’re in the same room?

“Thought I’d come to discuss the whole fake dating script with you, you know, kind of like running lines.”

“There aren’t any lines for our fake dating scenario yet, it’s improv,” you remind him.

“Then, how about boundaries?”

You release a groan. “Fuck it, let’s go find my PA, get in a car to go to location, and we can talk during the drive.”

Two:

There’s a tension in the SUV. With you on his left, your assistant behind you, and Jaehyun’s own manager, Johnny, behind him, everything anyone says will be noted. In fact, Jaehyun’s been listening to Johnny argue on the phone about a brand deal for the past ten minutes.

You’d said you’d discuss the whole fake dating thing, but instead, your eyes are glued to your iPad as you look over the music video notes.

Jaehyun has always found you to be a very focused woman, he might go so far as to say you have a stick up your ass. Your rigidity is a stark contrast to his own ‘go with the flow’ type of way of doing things, and it’s one of the reasons you’d never gotten along well on sets.

When he’d come to your trailer to discuss PR lines, it had been because he was trying to meet you where you’re at. He thought you’d want to plan. In fact, he’d found it almost laughable when you’d told him it would be improv because out of the two of you, he’s the one that’s always excelled in that area.

You have this face you put on for others, but Jaehyun’s always seen through it. You lack confidence in yourself, and that’s why you overcompensate by being anal about details, about practicing so you never fail when the time comes.

Jaehyun leans closer to you, getting a look at the music video notes. The aesthetic board is very desert, horses, sand, sparkles, disco balls, and mirrors- for someone who said Model Cowboy was about finding someone who wasn’t all luxury, there are definitely luxury items in the music video notes.

“So… tell me again what the song’s about?” Jaehyun asks.

You sigh. “Mark sent you a sound clip, didn’t he? Did you even bother to listen to the song?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun shrugs, “but I wanted to hear the details from you.”

You take an exasperated deep breath, putting your iPad down on your lap. “It’s about falling in love with someone who’s very salt of the Earth-”

“What do you mean by that?”

Your lips part in shock and annoyance. “It means a man who’s salt of the Earth.”

“Yeah, you said that, but like…” Jaehyun lets out a small laugh at how bad you’re fumbling this, “what does that mean, to you.”

Mark shifts in the seat behind you, leaning forward to join the conversation. “It means someone who is honest, and reasonable. Someone who doesn’t think they’re special or better than others.”

You flash Jaehyun a pointed look. “So basically, not you.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “Baby, neither of us are salt of the earth if that’s your definition.”

He can see how annoyed you are, can pick up the micro movements, the way your fingers are tapping on the edge of the iPad. It’s a rhythmic thing, something you do to calm yourself, and he’d noticed that pattern in you when you were much younger.

“This whole fake dating thing was not my idea,” you snap finally.

“Yeah, wasn’t mine either. We both have PR managers.”

You roll your eyes, letting out another exasperated sound of annoyance.

Jaehyun kind of likes poking at you like this. He’d been worried that you’d be super anal about this whole project, and while you’re definitely fighting for control, he likes to jab you where your guard is down. It feels like a win to him, and deep in Jaehyun’s core, he knows it’s not a nice thing to do, but he simply can’t help himself.

You have a history, years of interactions and bickering- he hasn’t seen you in a long time, but getting on your nerves is as easy as it’s always been, and that schoolboy enjoyment from picking on you is as potent as it ever was.

Three:

You’re a couple of hours into your day, and you’re doing some shots with horses now. You’d chosen Hwasa as your director, she’s a visionary in the type of aesthetic you want, and you’ve worked with her numerous times before. She’s very girl power, which is what you love, and you also enjoy the fact that she sees this as a collaboration.

You’ve worked with male directors in the past who think your music video is about showing their vision, and in your early days as a teen, you hadn’t been able to find your voice. Now, as an adult, you have the final say on everything, and Hwasa is the best partner you could think of for a project like this.

The two of you are by the cameras, making sure the shot will be good. The horses are just hanging out with their trainers, and Jaehyun’s a few meters away under the sun tent, waiting for direction.

“So… I’m thinking…” you look at Jaehyun, then at the saddles on the horses, “What if we try a shot with bareback.”

Hwasa casts you a sideways glance. “I mean… visually, I think that would be nicer, it would encapsulate freedom, but at the same time… is Jaehyun skilled enough to mount while bareback?”

“He’s an actor isn’t he?” You turn to look at Jaehyun. God, you can’t wait for him to fall off the horse and eat shit. “Jae!”

He’s sitting in a chair, his head tipped back, cowboy hat obscuring his face. The sound of your voice makes him sit up, his fingers pushing the rim of the hat up so he can look at you.

“Come over here!” Hwasa calls.

He nods, standing then swaggering over to you. He’s having way too much fun in his little cowboy outfit for your liking. “What’s up?”

“How do you feel about trying this scene on bareback?” Hwasa asks.

Jaehyun looks at the two of you, then over at the horse. “We can give it a go.”

You try to hide your smile, God, this is going to be so satisfying.

Hwasa goes to consult with the safety guys and trainers, who take off the saddle, then talk Jaehyun through how to mount a horse without the aid of stirrups. He nods nonchalantly, as smug as ever.

The scene gets ready, with you and Hwasa behind the camera. “Action!” she calls.

Jaehyun approaches the horse. He stops next to it, stroking it’s hair. You watch him get a gentle grip, and then, in one fluid motion, he hoists himself up, swinging his leg over the horse’s back before steadying himself into a seated position. He guides the horse by its hair to make a neat circle, looking like the most skilled cowboy ever, then he turns and flashes you that smug smile of his as Hwasa yells “cut!”

“That was amazing,” Hwasa tells you. “God, Jaehyun was such a good choice for this.”

“Really? How so?” you ask.

“Just, I know he’s not a stereotypical salt of the earth man. He’s not all American, he’s not a cowboy with a five o'clock shadow- this… dichotomy of visuals versus lyrical interpretation, how any man can be the right man if given the chance, despite all these stereotypes-”

You can feel your expression fall. Sometimes you hate how artsy Hwasa is, with her bachelor's in English and her way with words and interpretations. You can’t argue with her analysis, because if that’s what she gets out of the visual of Jaehyun flawlessly mounting a horse bareback, then that’s her view of it.

“Do you want to try to mount bareback too?” Hwasa asks, drawing herself out of her musings to focus on the scenes she wants in the time allotted.

You release a sigh. “I guess we can give it a try.”

“If it’s too dangerous-”

“If Jae can do it, I can too,” you insist, not wanting to be one-upped by him.

You’re in a long flowy silver dress with a slit up the thigh, and you remove your white overcoat. Jenni, your makeup artist double-checks you, and you’re handed your flashy disco-ball-styled cowboy hat.

The safety team and trainers give you a talk about how to mount the horse, and after listening carefully, you feel ready to take on the task.

Your horse is black, and your outfit is meant to be a contrast. It’s a beautiful horse, and when Hwasa calls ‘Action!’ you approach it carefully. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, and you stop next to the large animal, stroking it for a moment while you gain the courage to try to mount it.

As you make the leap, hoisting yourself up- Jaehyun calls out, “Don’t slip!”

And of course, that’s exactly what happens. Your leg can’t get a grip over the horse, you trip up a little with the silky material of your dress, and just like that, you’re back on the ground with two feet, sending a death glare over your shoulder at Jaehyun.

“It was a nice effort!” Hwasa encourages you.

“Not many people get it on their first try,” a trainer agrees.

You watch Jaehyun smile smugly, and an annoyance unlike any you’ve ever experienced fills you as he meticulously watches you try to complete the scene.

Four:

It’s near the end of your first day of filming. Hwasa had decided on a one day permit for the horses in the desert, opting to get all the scenes involving the large, beautiful animals done in one big go, and now, she’s explaining the final shots she needs to you and Jaehyun.

“So, we’re skipping through the linear timeline a little right now,” your director explains. “This is one of the final shots of the music video, so we’re going to imagine that at this point, the two of you are completely in love.” You and Jaehyun exchange a look. “You’re riding on horseback in the desert. We want bliss, joy, a comfortable kind of peace that comes when you can truly be yourself with another person, a freedom.”

She gazes pointedly at you and Jaehyun.

“I think we can manage,” you scene partner says, but there’s an edge of hesitation in his voice.

“We’re thinking ‘Ride’ by Lana Del Rey, but instead of motorcycles, you’re on horses. Think about how effortless she looked, how devil-may-care,” Hwasa, ever the Lana Del Rey enthusiast, explains. “You know her song ‘Young and Beautiful?’ There’s a line, ‘Hot summer nights, mid July, when you and I were forever wild.’ Do you guys have that?”

You love that Hwasa enjoys poetic music, it’s one of the reasons you’d been so drawn to her when you wanted to shift out of your role as a child star turned pop icon. Hwasa had been adamant about the Lana Del Rey stylings that she wanted to influence ‘Model Cowboy,’ the American Dream, wild and poetic love.

However, with all that said, you’d never imagined Lana Del Rey would be tainted by the imaginings of Jaehyun as your lover, and it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

You’ve already gone over blocking, and Hwasa’s explained the drones and cameras set up to take the shots, so now, all that’s left to do, is get through the day.

Jaehyun can tell you’re lost in thought, he can see the dissatisfied look on your face, but before he can call you on it, Johnny pulls him to the side.

“Good luck with this one,” Johnny muses, patting him on the shoulder. “And don’t fall off your horse, you’ve got to be in Milan in a couple of days for the big Prada show.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jaehyun brushes his manager off. “I’ve got this.”

“That’s my little go-getter actor,” Johnny grins, having scored a goldmine when he landed Jaehyun as his client, despite being a very young and new manager in the industry. “Be the Model Cowboy you always wanted to be.”

Jaehyun takes a deep breath before joining you. “You ready?” he asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh.

“Okay guys, we’re in love!” Hwasa bellows. “We’ve got this! And… action!”

Your expression immediately changes, suddenly, you’re grinning, in fact, you’re glowing. It takes a second for Jaehyun to follow your lead, but then, the two of you are playfighting and tickling, laughing like young lovers who are tasting what it feels like to have found their soulmate for the very first time.

Jaehyun knows the blocking, he knows when to wrap his arms around you after a few feet of chasing, when to lift you up and spin you as you laugh and gently kick. He knows when to set you down, going in for a kiss only for you to break free and dart to your horse, effortlessly swinging yourself up onto the black stallion and taking off.

Jaehyun is right behind you, mounting his own white horse and following.

He does his best to keep an easy going, loving expression, and at first, it’s a little difficult. But, as more seconds of the two of you riding through the desert go by, Jaehyun remembers the way he felt about you when you first met.

You’d been just kids then. Two young teens still growing into your bodies, into your personalities. He remembers how beautiful you’d been, even then, how your smile had lit up the room, as it does now when you turn your head to look over your shoulder at him, making sure the distance between you is still correct.

Of course it’s correct, if you want to be anal, Jaehyun can be anal too, and he’s not going to give you any reason to nitpick after the day he’s had.

No, Jaehyun’s an actor. He’s a professional.

In fact, he’s a Model Cowboy as he chases you through the desert on horseback.

God, the way you’re looking back at him- you’ve really grown into your looks, and Jaehyun’s not making things up when he says you’re glowing. The golden hour sun is hitting you just right, and suddenly, Jaehyun’s heart is racing. He feels alive, he feels- as if this whole thing is real. He forgets the cameras for just a few moments, getting lost in the experience of being young, wild, and free, with you.

Something shifts inside of him, although, Jaehyun’s so enthralled with you that he can’t quite pin what’s just taken place.

The scene is over all too quickly, the two of you making your blocking mark at the bottom of one of the rocky cliff faces that litter Joshua Tree National Park. You slow your horse, coming to a stop, your expression falling.

Jaehyun feels his own smile drop as he stops next to you. He swallows thickly, not knowing quite what to say, so, he decides to note, “Wow, your acting has really improved!”

He means it as a compliment, but your expression turns even more sour, and he knows he’s messed up.

“Well that’s a back handed compliment if I’ve ever heard one,” you scowl.

“I-” Jaehyun’s words get caught in his throat, and he has to swallow a lump just to continue, “I meant it in a good way, I was trying to be nice.”

“If that was you trying to be nice, it makes sense why you can’t keep a girlfriend for more than a month or so,” you snap.

Jaehyun’s chest hurts, and he stares at you in shock. It’s all the more painful, because in some ways, what you’ve just said is true. He’s used to only dating models, people in the industry who aren’t as successful as he is. He’s only ever entered relationships where there’s a power imbalance, and he supposes in a situation like that, any negative feedback could be biting- yet, it’s different with you.

You’re the one with the power here, and it’s clear you won’t take any criticisms from him. You stand up for yourself, in a way no woman ever has around Jaehyun.

As he watches you lead your horse away, signaling the end of the interaction, Jaehyun realizes maybe he kind of likes that you’re very powerful in your own right. Maybe he likes a woman who can defend herself and doesn’t just take what the world throws at her.

Maybe… just maybe, after all this time, he likes you.

Five:

The locations crew had found a really cool oldstyle cowboy motel for everyone to stay at. It had been relatively inexpensive compared to other filming location lodgings in the past, and renting the whole place, including the mess hall, for four days had been the obvious choice.

You’re sitting with Mark and Hwasa, all three of you have trays of food from the buffet, but none of you are focused on eating. Hwasa has her iPad out, and she’s going through the shots of the day with Mark. You remind yourself when you peak at the screen that there’s still a lot of editing to do, but so far, it’s looking quite good.

Your stylist, Jenni, is also with you, and she’s capturing the majority of your attention as she shows you pictures of the costumes set for tomorrow. Your long silver dress is being swapped out for a pink palette upscale cowgirl aesthetic, with Jaehyun in creams and blues to match the lighter blush colours.

You notice Jaehyun walk into the large dining area. He and his manager, Johnny, head straight for the food, and they tilt their heads together, thick as thieves out of ear shot.

When they’re done filling their trays, they begin to head to a table, and that’s when Hwasa calls them over. “Rough shots,” she explains. “Jae, you sit next to y/n and I’ll show you both some of the details.”

You flash Jenni a look, hating that she has to move over for the model to sit.

Jaehyun is awkward as he does so, apologizing to Jenni, which is his only saving grace.

When he settles, your shoulders are touching, and he leans closer to get a look at the iPad that Hwasa is holding. Hwasa doesn’t show all the shots, just her favourites, and you have to admit, the visuals are stunning even before any editing for light and colour.

Then, Hwasa shows you all the footage from the last scene you’d shot, the one with you and Jaehyun playfighting then leaping on horses.

“This is so good,” Hwasa tells you. “You both look so natural on horses, the drone shots are perfect, and the golden hour? Stunning.”

While all of that is true, you’re more focused on how in love you and Jaehyun look. It’s weird to be seeing you and Jaehyun like this. It’s almost out of body, or doppleganger realm, because how the heck did you manage to look so happy and in love with Jeong Jaehyun of all people?

You feel the actor shift next to you, and you get the sense that he’s uncomfortable with it as well… however, out of the two of you, he has way more experience on screen. You guess you shouldn’t be shocked that he looks very much in love, he gets paid big money to sell those emotions.

“Anyways,” Hwasa sighs, “y/n, tomorrow morning, we shoot sunrise and into the afternoon, then Jaehyun, the latter half of the day is us at the ranch for some more ‘classic’ cowboy scenes.”

“Sounds good,” Jaehyun mumbles. With one last nod of appreciation, he stands up, and it’s as if he can’t get to another table fast enough.

Six:

They’ve been shooting Jaehyun’s cowboy scenes for a couple of hours when he notices your arrival on set. You’re not in the pink costume he’d heard about you wearing this morning, and you’re not all dolled up either.

You’re in a light jacket and jean shorts, a more relaxed look, and yet, you’re still stunning.

You’re next to Hwasa, looking at camera angles and shots, and while you seem to be making a few notes to the director, Jaehyun appreciates that you aren’t trying to micromanage him yourself.

Shooting continues for another hour, and Hwasa calls a short break so she can figure out what else needs to be done today while they have the ranch.

At first, Jaehyun just goes and grabs a water. Johnny is hyping him up, but the actor is hardly paying attention, his gaze focused on you instead.

Jaehyun can’t help himself, he walks over to you. You look up from Hwasa like a deer in headlights, and something about it is very endearing. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, can I uh… talk to you for a sec?” Jaehyun asks.

“You know what? Yeah, that’s a good idea,” you nod, “come with me.”

You grab his arm, dragging him away. Jaehyun’s a little confused as to where you’re taking him, and when he finds himself in the privacy of a secluded location behind his trailer, he’s even more confounded.

“Uh….” he starts, wetting his lips.

“What did you need?”

“I was just… guess I was wondering what you were doing here? Didn’t your shoot finish a couple of hours ago? Figured you’d be getting some rest at the motel.”

“It’s my music video,” you remind him. “Also… management thought it would be good to let tabloids get some shots of us shooting today, that’s why I pulled you over here, we allowed them the field of view to your trailer.”

“So that’s why you took me to such a secluded spot,” Jaehyun grins.

“It’s the only reason I touched your arm,” you retort.

“Careful, don’t look so angry,” Jaehyun warns you, his hands reaching out to grab your hips and pull you closer. “Wouldn’t want to mess up your tabloid shots.”

You roll your eyes. “Tabloid won’t be on the property till after your last take in an hour or so. Don’t jump the gun, cowboy. After your next scene, you can be as much of a little model slut as you’d like.”

“You think I’m a slut?” Jaehyun asks, shocked that you’re talking to him in this way.

“Am I wrong?”

Jaehyun stands there for a moment, and then, he releases his grip on your hips. “Guess not.”

“So, after you’re done the next scene, we come here, and see if we can pretend to like each other,” you instruct.

“We just have to be as convincing as we were yesterday,” Jaehyun muses.

You open your mouth to respond, but then you shut it, and Jaehyun’s left wondering what you would have said for the next hour.

He wonders how far you’ll let him take things, and part of him wishes you’d answered his question about boundaries yesterday. This feels like uncharted waters, and his heart is racing when he finally meets you behind his trailer again.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Do your worst.”

Jaehyun feels himself begin to salivate, and he swallows thickly. There’s no way he’ll do his worst. His worst, would be throwing you against the trailer and having his way with you right here and now- asserting his dominance and seeing if you push back in any way- he suspects you like him more than you let on, after all, Jaehyun’s never met a girl he couldn’t tame.

Life’s hard when you have a stunning face and a hot body to match.

Jaehyun reaches for your hips, pulling you closer. His skin is tingling with excitement. “I’m going to say something funny, and you should laugh,” he whispers.

You grin broadly, but the expression doesn’t meet your eyes. “Depends on if what you say is funny or not,” you counter.

Jaehyun’s mind suddenly goes blank. His pick-up lines, his jokes- they all fly out the proverbial window. He doesn’t know what to say, so instead, he begins to lean in-

You turn your head at the last second and Jaehyun’s lips graze past your cheek. He’s a little taken aback at first, but he leans into it, reminding himself that you’d told him to improv. “Is this okay?” he whispers in your ear, still wanting to double-check with you although every fiber of his being is telling him to just do what he wants.

“It’s okay,” you respond, wrapping your arms loosely around the back of his neck. “You’re the actor.”

For some reason, it feels like a compliment that you’re making the distinction between the two of you. You’re right, he’s the actor, and you’re the Grammy award-winning singer.

His lips continue softly on your cheek, and then he adjusts, pressing kisses down to your throat. You shift in his embrace, tilting your head to the side to give him more access.

“Jae-” you warn.

“Just a few more, for the tabloids,” he whispers, nuzzling into your neck moreso than kissing now.

You release a sigh, and with your chests pressed together, Jaehyun can feel your heart racing.

He wonders if you can feel his going a mile a minute too.

Seven:

You eat in your room with Mark, too shaken up by your interaction with Jaehyun earlier to dare enter the mess hall yourself.

“So, I was just sent the tabloid pictures for final approval,” Mark sighs, joining you on the bed so you can see his phone. “They’ll be up in the morning.”

“Just choose your favourites,” you murmur.

“Uh…” Mark blinks at you. “I really think you should look at them with me.”

You take a deep breath. “Fine.”

Shifting your gaze to Mark’s phone, he scrolls through the shots, and you hate how natural they look. You and Jaehyun just look good together, and it sets your teeth on edge.

“The cheek kissing is cute,” Mark says thoughtfully. “The way you’re holding each other looks real.”

It looks too real, in fact.

“I’m just happy we have opposing shoot schedules tomorrow,” you admit with another deep breath. You can see Mark side-eying you, and you hold up a hand before he can respond. “Don’t say a word.”

“It’s just…” Mark struggles at times to surpass your commands. He’s your assistant first and foremost, but your company also expects him to have somewhat of a managerial role over you, and you know it’s a fight for him to find balance at times. “Everyone has shipped the two of you since you were younger. People say it’s like Britney and Justin in the Mickey Mouse Club House show- then you were teenagers, and you went different directions-”

“Well, Britney and Justin didn’t end up together, did they?” It’s a rhetorical question, and from the way Mark sighs, he knows it.

“You’re missing the point,” he struggles.

You turn your gaze to him. “Am I?”

Mark releases a breath, dropping the issue. You feel bad shutting him down like this, but at the same time, you don’t want to open the can of ‘Jaehyun’ worms, if you will. No, you’d much rather ignore it for right now.

You’re filming a music video for your new album, and you have much bigger fish to fry.

Eight:

If Jaehyun wasn’t needed for business calls with Johnny today, he might be on set watching you, and Jaehyun can’t get it out of his head as he chills in his motel room and listens to his manager working.

It’s three hours into calls and details before Johnny is able to take a break, and he sets down his phone with a pointed look on his face. “You’re being weird.”

“Am I?” Jaehyun lets out a small laugh, but there’s little humor in it.

“Talk to me,” Johnny says lightly, giving an air of friendship despite the fact that he’s still in his role as manager. “Talk to me about this whole PR, fake dating thing.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “What’s there to talk about?”

“Those fake tabloid pictures of you and y/n from yesterday on set dropped an hour ago, they’re trending on Twitter,” Johnny points out.

“It’s called ‘X’ now, actually.”

Johnny narrows his eyes. “I’m never going to call it ‘X.’ It’s fucking Twitter.”

Jaehyun can’t help but laugh, for real this time. He loves Johnny, loves him for all of his little millennial quirks.

“Honestly?” Jaehyun sighs, feeling his energy sift again. “Y/N’s super uptight, but… she can act like she’s not, and that’s a different side of her that I wasn’t really expecting.”

Johnny is quiet for a few moments. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.”

“That song from her first album, ‘Forget About Him,’ was that written about you? Is there a past here?”

“Nah, it wasn’t about me,” Jaehyun assures his manager. “As far as I know, she’s never been interested in me like that. We had this other costar, Haechan-”

“Lee Donghyuck?”

“Yeah, him. They uh, I think there was something there between them, for a little while at least.”

Jaehyun can feel Johnny’s assessing gaze, and he averts his own eyes.

“It almost seems like you’re jealous, Jae.”

“Yeah, well, Haechan never went on to become a brand ambassador for Prada or star in movies, he was just some little child star.” Jaehyun can taste the bitterness in his words, but he can’t help himself.

“You know who’s not just a child star?” Johnny asks. “Y/N. You two are, without argument, the most successful people to come out of the show you were in when you were younger.”

“We’re both very driven,” Jaehyun admits. “I do admire that about her, she has a Grammy for fucks sake.”

“What I’m getting from this,” Johnny concludes, “is that you’re completely fine with this whole fake dating arrangement.”

“Well, as my manager, you should know I’m a good actor,” Jaehyun counters.

Johnny laughs. “Sure you are. Tomorrow is the last day of shooting, you’ve got that big kissing scene, I guess we’ll all see how good of an actor you are then.”

Nine:

There’s something comical about the fact that both you and Jaehyun are chewing gum in preparation for your kissing scene. Together, you’re with Hwasa as she goes over the vision for the shot.

“So, we’re thinking Jae’s going to grab your neck,” Hwasa starts, “gently, of course. More of a cupping the nape of your neck than a grab, actually. It’s going to be slow, a slow exploration of moving closer. Lots of close-ups of the two of you gazing into each other’s eyes. It’s about breaking the distance, about two worlds colliding and connecting in a way that feels natural, unrushed, and just, electric.”

Jaehyun nods, looking at you. “We can do this.” You wish you were as sure as he sounds right now.

Jaehyun takes out a tissue, and the two of you spit out your gum, disposing the trash before moving into position.

The shot is on the edge of a cliff, with the desert and sunset stretching out like a vast, yellowy-orange ocean behind you.

It’s as you approach your marked spot that you remember something. “Jae,” you ask softly, “are you still afraid of heights?”

You watch him take a deep breath, and he nods, standing a few feet from the drop-off. You notice he’s looking everywhere but down, and something inside of you softens for him.

Here you are, worried about the kiss, and here this man is, worried about falling off the edge of a cliff and dying.

“We’ve got some space between us and the edge,” you tell him, stepping closer. “Here, grab my hips, we’re both steady, we’re not going to fall.”

Jaehyun’s lips part, and you can see the confusion on his face.

You suppose you’ve never been nurturing to him, but you can’t help yourself with this. You don’t mean to be a bitch, in fact, you’d argue adamantly that you’re not a malicious person. Jaehyun just pisses you off a lot, and his behavior generally merits a reaction- but right now, he deserves a bit of peace of mind, and you can see him relax a little as his hands grab your waist.

“Feels more steady?” you double-check.

“Yeah.” He swallows thickly, nodding.

“We’ve got this,” you assure him.

“Are we ready!?” Hwasa calls.

You flash a thumbs up, turning your attention back to Jaehyun.

“And… action!”

The two of you simply stare at each other for a moment. Hwasa had said she wanted this to be slow. You’re shocked at how exposed you feel looking up into Jaehyun’s eyes. He really is a very handsome man, and he looks so extremely vulnerable right now.

His gaze shifts to your lips, and you allow him to take the lead. One of his hands moves up your body, cupping the back of your neck gently. You can smell the spearmint on his breath, as he moves closer.

You maintain eye contact until the moment your lips meet, and then, you do your best to just relax, to forget about the cameras pointed at you. You allow yourself to melt into the kiss, following Jaehyun’s motions, following the gentle notes that soon become more heated.

His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and on instinct, you open your mouth for him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer.

You try to convince yourself that you’re leaning into this for the sake of the scene, that you’re just being good actors together, but there’s something underneath it all. There’s a desperation. You can almost taste it below the spearmint on his tongue.

It feels good to be kissing Jaehyun, and the realization makes you break the kiss, opening your eyes and blinking in an effort to get yourself out of the daze that’s come over you.

“That was amazing!” Hwasa’s voice is like a slap. “I’ve got some shots, but I’ll need you guys to do it one more time.”

Jesus.

“You good?” Jaehyun asks.

You nod, swallowing thickly. “Let’s just go again.”

You’re kissing him again all too soon, and this time, it’s like fireworks. Your heart is racing in your chest, your skin electrified as you cling to Jaehyun, diving deeper into the feeling of him.

This time, he’s the one to break the kiss, and he looks away immediately. You notice him breathing heavily, but before you can say anything, Hwasa’s approaching again.

“Okay, that was amazing, and I hate to be that person, but I’ve decided I want drone shots too, so… third time is the charm?” She looks between you and Jaehyun and both of you are quick to nod, although, neither of you has yet found your voice.

“You good?” you ask him as Hwasa goes back to her spot, her main drone lifting into the sky with an electric thrum.

“Yeah, just one more,” Jaehyun says, voice wavering.

The two of you get back into position, and you study Jaehyun carefully. You’re looking at him, truly looking at him, and he’s looking at you with the same fierceness. You can tell something has shifted between the two of you, but at this time, you’re unsure how deep it really is.

He kisses you again on Hwasa’s direction, and you wonder how normal it is to feel this way during a kissing scene with a fellow acting partner.

You’ve never had to do this before, but you know Jaehyun has. He’s been in two or three rom-coms, there must be a way to stay professional after kissing a costar, right?

But God, he still feels so good.

You’d thought - or maybe hoped - that the first kiss would be a one-off. That the second wouldn’t be as great, and by now, maybe the butterflies would have escaped the cage in your tummy, but no, the feeling surging through you is as powerful and electric as it had been with the first meeting of your lips.

He leaves you breathless.

Standing on the edge of the cliff with Jaehyun, you realize you’re in deep shit.

Ten:

Jaehyun notices you in the mess hall. You’re looking over food, plating up your dinner, and he decides now is as good a time as any to talk to you.

He doesn’t mean to be a quiet, sneaky sort of guy, but he can’t help the lightness of his walk. When he goes to stand next to you, saying “Hi,” you practically jump, your food stray scrambling a little as you compose yourself.

“Jesus,” you cuss. “You scared me!”

“Sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “So… uh, the shoot is over, I head to Milan tomorrow-”

“Yup, I know your schedule,” you nod, sighing. “It’s in our contract that I come to your show and be front row to watch you, remember?”

“Right, yeah.” Jaehyun swallows thickly. “So… reporters are going to be asking a lot of questions about us.”

“Uh huh, that was the point of the paparazzi pics.” You continue filling your tray with food, so unbothered and cool in your movements that it makes Jaehyun’s heart beat faster. Are you unaffected by your kiss from earlier? Because Jaehyun can’t get the feeling of your lips out of his mind.

“I just uh, wanted to say, you can trust me to give the right answers and stuff. I’m PR trained.”

God, Jaehyun wants to strangle himself. He feels so nervous, and the look you give him tells him that you think he’s being a dork. He’s definitely being a dork-

“Okay?” you laugh. “I’m PR trained too, we both took classes when we were kids, remember?”

“Right,” he’s such an idiot, “yeah. Anyways, I guess… I guess I’ll see you in Milan in a couple of days.”

“Sounds good.”

With one final nod, Jaehyun leaves you be, and he beats himself up about the awkwardness of the conversation for the rest of the night.

Eleven:

In this week's news, our favourite kids’ show alumni were spotted getting close on set. y/n’s new music video, Model Cowboy, is set to be one of the videos of the summer, starring Prada ambassador Jung Jaehyun. The two have a long history, and while there have been rumors about their romantic connection in the past, nothing has ever been confirmed… until now.

TMZ dropped a photo of the two embracing outside Jaehyun’s trailer, and the internet officially broke. #modelcowboy has been going absolutely wild on X. One user wrote: “all my dreams are finally coming true! Thank you mama e papa!” While another took to X to say this: “At first, I didn’t love Jaehyun as the whole ‘model cowboy’ trope. He just doesn’t fit it for me. But I don’t know, something about the pictures of him and y/n just feels right- guess you don’t need a history as a rancher to be a cowboy, he’s definitely lassoed my heart.“

So far, the general consensus around our new ‘It Couple’ is that it’s been a long time coming. While there’s no official confirmation about their relationship, one of our reporters caught Jaehyun after a show in Milan last night. When asked about their time shooting the music video together, the actor/Prada ambassador had this to say about y/n: “She was amazing. The whole experience [filming Model Cowboy] went without a hitch. She’s super talented, one of the most driven women I know, and I can’t wait to see how this music video pans out for her.”

When asked about the pictures of the two of them that have been trending, Jaehyun said: “I mean, she’s beautiful, she’s an icon- who wouldn’t want a chance with her?” When the reporter clarified by asking if they’re dating, Jaehyun noted, “You’ll have to ask y/n, I’d never be ‘that’ guy who would speak for a powerful woman like her.”

All we can say is damn, that’s a green flag if we’ve ever seen one.

Stay tuned for all things celebrity drama and news on our website, or follow us on Instagram and Snapchat for daily updates.

Twelve:

There’s nothing like the closing night of a show. Jaehyun feels elated, he feels on the top of his game, like nothing could bring him down.

“You were amazing,” another model tells him, fluffing her hair up with her hand as the two of them decompress backstage.

“You were amazing, Vivienne,” he retorts, never feeling more giddy and boyish than he does now.

“I’m good, but I’m not model of the year good,” she grins.

“You’re still new,” Jaehyun assures her, although, pride is swelling through him.

He sees her skin flush, her eye lashes fluttering at him-

“Jae?” your voice draws him out of his assessment of Vivienne, and he turns in shock to find you standing there.

You look stunning, your stylist team has really outdone themselves with your looks for the past couple of days- but there’s a sour set to your lips that immediately tells him something is wrong.

“Y/N?” he asks.

“Am I… interrupting something?” your gaze shifts to Vivienne, and Jaehyun immediately understands what’s going on.

“Excuse us,” he says to Vivienne, grabbing your hand to tug you a few feet away. His voice lowers when he asks, “Are you jealous right now?”

“No,” you retort immediately. “What reason would I have to be jealous?”

You’re making a big show about the notion of jealousy being ridiculous, but Jaehyun knows he’s hit the nail on the head.

“No reason at all,” Jaehyun assures you, and he truly means it. He knows this whole dating this is a PR move, but he hasn’t been able to get you out of his head all week. Every time he’s walked past you sitting front row at the shows- well, he’s been feeling butterflies in a way that he’s hardly been able to admit to himself. “Hey, listen-”

“No, you listen,” you cut him off. “Your show is over, we both fly different places tomorrow morning, management will set our schedules to keep up this whole fake dating thing, I just wanted to say goodbye before I go back to my hotel.”

“Oh, right.” Jaehyun can feel his heart sink in his chest. “Uh… where are you staying?”

“I’m at the Four Seasons.”

“Do you maybe want to get drinks later or something?” he asks.

“I’m sure you have after parties to go to with your… model friends.” Your gaze shifts to Vivienne again, and that same sour twist to your lips appears.

Jaehyun wants to reassure you, but- the words just aren’t coming. Besides, what would he even say? We’re fake dating but I’ve been rethinking our entire dynamic since we kissed and now I’m not so sure I want it to be fake, because I’m actually really into you, and all of our bickering in the past has been because I’m jealous of your driven nature and I’ve seen you as competition but now I see that we can do more together than apart?

It feels like a lot of word vomit, and Jaehyun’s not about to projectile all of that at you right now. He doesn’t want to look stupid again, doesn’t want to feel like an idiot. He’s scared of rejection, in a way he’s never been scared of it before.

Instead, dejected, he just nods. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay, so you go have fun, I’m going back to my hotel, and like I said, I’ll see you when I see you.”

Jaehyun watches you leave, and suddenly, the high from the fashion show has depleted. No one has ever had this kind of hold on his emotions before, and Jaehyun knows he’s going to have to do something about it, he just doesn’t know what.

Thirteen:

“Jeeze, Mark, I told you, I’m going to bed-” Your words cut off as you open your hotel door and find Jaehyun, not Mark, standing there.

“Uh… Hi?” Jaehyun smile sheepishly, and you look him up and down.

He’s in a form fitting suit, but it looks somewhat ragged. His shirt is unbuttoned haphazardly, his hair a little fussed, and his cheeks are flushed pink.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Well, I went to the afterparty, like you told me to, but… I don’t know, I just felt bad about how we left things.”

You’re shocked at how candid he’s being, and you don’t see a hint of dishonestly in his body language. “Have… have you been drinking?” you question next.

“Just a little,” he admits. “Can I…” Jaehyun looks around the hallway outside. “Can I come in?”

“I should really be going to sleep soon-”

“Yeah, I heard, Mark’s been on your ass,” Jaehyun nods, swallowing, “but uh…” he leans forward, voice lowering, “What’s that pipsqueak going to do about you staying up just a little later? I mean, you can sleep on your flight tomorrow, can’t you?”

Yeah, Jaehyun is drunk. “Did you just call Mark a pipsqueak?” you ask in shock.

“So what if I did?” He grins lazily.

“Jae-”

“y/n.”

You sigh. “Come in, sit down, and let me grab you some water.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His smile is much too large for your liking as he enters your hotel room, going to the couch like a good boy.

You can feel his eyes on you as you get him a bottle of water from the fridge, moving to join him. “Here.”

“Thanks.” He unscrews the cap as you sit down, taking a large gulp.

“So… what’s this about?”

He’s still drinking the water, like a child after a marathon, just drinking and drinking with small stops to gasp for air- you can’t help but laugh a little, watching with amusement.

Jaehyun finishes the entire bottle. “So-” He takes a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“Making you jealous earlier.”

“What?” You’re in shock. “I was not jealous.”

“You were, and it’s okay.” He places his hand on your knee and you look down at it then up at him questioningly. “I was jealous of you and Haechan back in the day, but the difference is, I wasn’t hitting on Vivienne, I was just trying to be nice to her, you know, as male model of the year and everything.”

“Jae-”

“I wasn’t hitting on her,” he says again, expression turning firm. “You’re my girlfriend and I’d never, ever do that to you.”

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Contractually, you are,” Jaehyun insists. “I can be a good boyfriend to you, if you let me try.”

He’s leaning in now, and you grab a pillow, haphazardly shoving it between the two of you so he can kiss that instead.

“Jae!” You hop off of the couch, heart racing.

“Shit, sorry, you’re just- God, have I ever told you that you glow?” Jaehyun looks up at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him, it’s almost like admiration.

“What are you even saying?”

“You glow. You light up the room. You just- you sparkle, even without disco balls and diamonds.”

You wrap your silky night robe tighter around your body, feeling self conscious. “I don’t glow.”

“You do,” he insists. “Even when we were younger. I think- I think part of me always worried your glow would diminish mine, if that makes sense- but, but after seeing some of the footage from the music video, I see that, now that we’re older, when we do stuff together, when we’re not competing, we can glow together.”

So he’s like… very drunk.

But… haven’t you always heard that drunk words are sober thoughts?

You look down at him, and it feels like you’re seeing him in a new light.

“Jae?” you question.

“Yes?”

“What’s going on?”

“When we kissed that day on set, I felt something.”

“Are you… not used to feeling things?” you ask.

“Not feeling things like that,” Jaehyun corrects. “I mean, butterflies, sparks, you know, corny rom com shit.”

Your stomach flips, heart beginning to beat faster in your chest- so he’d felt the connection too.

“Look, okay, this is going to be embarrassing if you reject me, but, fuck it, I want to get this all off my chest.” Jaehyun takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his silky hair to steady himself. “I like you. I think, a part of me has always liked you, but, I also used to see you as competition. Now that we’re older, now that we’re both successful, I don’t see you that way anymore- and before you think that’s another backhanded compliment, I just mean, you’ve won Grammys. You’re- a fucking star. And I think… maybe I’ve grown to the point where I can accept other people’s successes without seeing it as a diminishment on my own.”

You’re surprised he can speak this well and use big words while clearly feeling the effects of alcohol, and even more than that, you’re surprised by the context of what he’s saying.

Jeong Jaehyun thinks you’re a star. He recognizes your hard work and your success. He’s not just some smug asshole looking down at you, he’s actually seeing you, and maybe… maybe you’re beginning to see him.

“I appreciate the compliment of what you’re saying,” you tell him, picking your own words carefully.

“There’s that PR training,” Jaehyun winks. “You’re cute. Glowy, little, cute, superstar. Maybe that’s what I should call you, my little superstar, the media would eat it up.”

“That’s your PR training,” you laugh.

“We can’t help it,” he smiles up at you.

“Can I say something without you getting upset?”

“I’ll do my best,” Jaehyun promises solemnly.

“I want to start by saying this isn’t a rejection,” you clarify, “I just wish you would have told me all of this while sober, instead of showing up at my apartment near midnight before we both fly out of town in the morning.”

“I can see that,” Jaehyun nods. “I guess, you kind of scare me.”

“I scare you?” you laugh.

“Uh huh.” He swallows thickly. “Like heights.”

He’s so adorably dorky for a famous actor and Prada brand ambassador.

“But- on that cliff that day, when we kissed, and you reassured me, and you let me hold your hips- I don’t know, it was nice. I- thanks, thanks for doing that.”

“I can be quite nurturing if I think someone deserves it,” you tell him. “Which, speaking of, you’re still drunk, and you downed that whole bottle of water, I think I should get you another, and maybe we can move somewhere more comfortable.”

“Like.. the bedroom?” There’s a glint in his eye, and it makes you scoff.

“Get your mind out of the gutter Jae, you can stay on this couch for all I care.”

“I’ll be good,” he promises, crossing his heart haphazardly.

“Come on.” You hold your hand out for him and Jaehyun takes it, allowing you to help him to his feet. You go get another bottle of water and the two of you move to the bedroom. The mattress is substantially more comfortable than the couch, and Jaehyun releases an audible moan as he clammers down onto it.

You get situated, moing under the covers so you feel less exposed.

“I like it when you’re nice like this,” Jaehyun sighs.

“I’d be nicer if you didn’t always tease me.”

“You like it when I tease.”

“I actually hated it when you told me not to slip as I was getting onto the horse during the shoot, and it completely made me mess up and slip,” you point out, still irritated by that ordeal.

“Okay, to be fair, yes, I’m sorry, but also, your dress was silky as fuck, you were going to slip even if I didn’t say anything, and that’s not your fault, it’s Jenni’s for not giving you better clothes to actually ride a horse with.”

He has a point there.

“So…” Jaehyun switches topic, his demeanor getting more anxious, “back on the couch, you said you weren’t rejecting me… can you… can you explain what that meant.”

“It meant I’m not rejecting you.”

“And salt of the earth means salt of the earth,” Jaehyun retorts, rolling his eyes. “Can you give me a Mark style explanation on what you meant.”

“I meant…” you think about it for a second. “I like you too, I think you might be more into me than I’m into you at the moment-”

“Oh yeah?” he counters, crossing his arms over his chest and getting pouty.

“Yeah,” you laugh.

“Fine, okay, maybe,” Jaehyun concedes. “But?”

“But… I’m willing to explore something with you.”

“Yeah?” His expression brightens. “Really?”

“We’d just have to sort out details, you know- we’re on contract for three or so months, so, if we gave it a real go, and things ended before our contract, how would that even work? There are limitations to having a relationship with someone you work with.”

Jaehyun looks down at the water bottle in his hands, clearly thinking it through. “We can… take it slow? I mean, we’d have to, since we both have different schedules and will be in different countries tomorrow.”

“Slow could work,” you agree.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, and you almost think he’s going to lean in for a kiss again, and then he asks, “What did happen with you and Haechan? Your first single was about him, right?”

You release a laugh, if this is really a can of worms he wants to open, then you suppose you can let him open it.

You begin to explain to him your history with Haechan, and Jaehyun listens intently. Somehow, he gets the ball rolling on your recent relationship with Lee Jeno, and before you know it, two hours have passed with the two of you just discussing past relationships.

Jaehyun tells you about his own ex’s, about his lack of accountability and emotional maturity. He gives voice to all the trouble spots you’ve identified about him in the past, and clarity on his hopes for being better in the future.

He also noticeably sobers up, which makes you feel a lot better about having this sort of intimate conversation with him.

Soon, you’re both just laying in bed facing each other, talking about everything and anything. “Do you remember that time the catering company on set changed?” Jaehyun asks.

“Oh my god, yeah, when the higher ups wanted more vegan and vegetarian options, and it was just like, raw fruit and veggies with store bought hummus?”

“Jaemin wasn’t used to eating anything that wasn’t carbs or meat and in the middle of a take he had to run to the bathroom?” Jaehyun adds.

“Shat his pants and everything, pissed wardrobe off in a way I’ve never seen,” you giggle. “What ever happened to him?”

“I don’t keep up with many of our old castmates,” Jaehyun admits. “But I think he’s some radio show host or something now, has a segment about embarrassing first dates and stuff.”

“He always loved messy gossip,” you sigh, happy to be reminiscing in this way.

There are only a handful of people who can understand what it was like to be on a kids show in your early teens, only a few others in the world you could possibly have this conversation with.

Despite your differences, you and Jaehyun come from the same place, and it makes it easy to talk to him.

Jaehyun’s staring at you, and he pushes a strand of hair out of your face. “Should I let you sleep?” he asks. “It’s two AM.”

You’re hardly tired at this point, and now that Jae’s sober… and in your bed… your own mind has found its way into the gutter, and you’re not quite sure what to do about that.

“Can I be honest with you?” you ask.

“Always.”

“I haven’t gotten laid in a long time,” you sigh. “And… we’re flying to different places tomorrow, so maybe it’s not the best idea I’ve ever had-”

“It is,” Jaehyun interrupts you. “The best idea you’ve ever had.” You shoot him a look and Jaehyun laughs, back tracking. “I mean, your lyrics and albums are great ideas too- but I just mean… If you’re horny, then you’re horny, and I’m, well, here.”

“I just don’t want you to feel taken advantage of.”

“Even if you’d tried to fuck me when I first walked in here, all drunk and being stupid, it still wouldn’t have been taking advantage of me.”

“I think fucking someone while they’re drunk is one of the most obvious scenarios of taking advantage of someone,” you counter.

“Okay, true, but- you know what I’m saying.” Jaehyun flashes you a knowing look. “If you want me to fuck you, I’ll fuck you.”

“That’s so romantic,” you roll your eyes.

Jaehyun laughs, and then he sits up, looking down at you. “If you want romance, we can go shower together or something. I could… romantically wash your body, and tell you how perfect you are-”

“It’s two am, fuck that. Just kiss me.”

Jaehyun grins, then he leans over you, staring into your eyes. He’s moving slower than you thought he would, and part of you wishes he’d just ravage you like some primal animal- but no, he’s acting like he did in your music video. You can practically see adoration in his eyes, and his hand comes up to cup your cheek in a way that’s almost loving.

“I meant it when I said that you glow,” Jaehyun says softly.

“I know you did,” you breathe, grabbing the back of his neck to draw his lips to yours.

It’s odd how familiar the two of you already are. The kiss isn’t awkward at all, but then again, your first kiss hadn’t been either.

Neither of you are trying to dominate it, you’re moving slowly, reading each other’s body language and cues.

When his tongue gently licks your lip, you open your mouth for him, drawing him closer as the kiss deepens.

Jaehyun shifts in your embrace, and then he’s moving to be between your legs, which spread for him. He’s on top of you now, elbows digging into the pillows while you make out like teenagers in love for the first time.

He just feels so good.

For a long time, you’ve felt like an anxious person. You have a lot of weight on your shoulders, but when you’re kissing Jaehyun, that pressure feels lifted. Your mind goes blank as the two of you make out, your body at the forefront instead of your thoughts.

Jaehyun slowly begins to grind down against you, and the gentle pressure on your clit has you groaning against his lips.

You feel him smirk, and then he begins to kiss down your throat, taking his time to suck gently on your skin.

One of his hands slides up your thigh, teasing the waistband of your sleeping shorts before moving back down again. He’s so warm, and you hips push up for more stimulus.

“Jae-” you whimper, threading your fingers in his hair.

“Slow, or fast?” he asks, pulling away from your throat to look down at you.

“A bit of both.”

He cocks his head to the side.

“Fast to get my clothes off, slow to explore, then make me cum,” you clarify.

Jaehyun laughs. “Whatever you want, superstar.”

Your skin tingles at the nickname, and your pussy throbs as Jaehyun begins to remove his clothes. Each button feels like an eternity to get undone, but when he slips the fabric off, you find yourself practically drooling.

He has such a perfect body, not too lean, not too muscled, just perfect.

Then, Jaehyun begins to take off your robe and you sit up to help him. Soon, your shirt is being tugged over your head, and your nipples immediately pebble at the cool air of your hotel room.

You lay back down, staring up at him while Jaehyun takes in your body.

“Glowing,” he whispers, cupping your breast and rubbing his thumb across your nipple.

You whimper at the sensation, and his eyes move up to your face. He’s grinning at you. “Sensitive?” he asks, gently pinching the bud.

You groan, shifting against the bed. “Yeah.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Jaehyun promises, leaning down to kiss you again.

He begins to descend to your throat again, but this time, he goes even farther down, making it to your chest. The first flick of his tongue against your nipple has you whining, and you thread your fingers through his hair again, closing your eyes to enjoy the sensation.

He continues to suck on your breasts, paying attention to both nipples. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second, and you’re torn between loving the feeling of this and wanting something more.

It’s as if he reads you, because he pulls away from your chest, hooking his fingers in your shorts. You both adjust to allow him to get you fully naked, and then he lays down between your legs. He presses kisses along the sensitive flesh of your thighs, looking up at you.

There’d been a time in your life when you hadn’t loved eye contact during pussy eating, but there’s something so erotic about the way Jaehyun’s watching you as he brings his mouth to your core.

He kisses your clit gently, and you watch as his eyes close, his tongue swiping up your folds to taste the wet that has accumulated there.

He groans, delving deeper with his tongue, his large hands grabbing your thighs as an anchor as he begins to devour you.

Has anyone ever eaten you out like this? Jeno wasn’t much of a giver unfortunately, and it feels like forever since you’ve had someone doing to you what Jaehyun is currently doing.

Your entire body feels alive, with each flick and suck- You’re clutching at the blankets now, moaning desperately as he works you up faster than any man before him ever has.

You guess you hadn’t put a time limit on making you cum. You’d told him fast to undress, which he did, slow to explore, which he also did- and now, it seems he’s intent on making you cum on his tongue, which is something you have no issues with.

“Jae-” you whimper, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair.

He looks up at you and you begin to move your hips, riding his face. He stays still, letting you use him, and you can tell from the groan he releases that he kind of likes you taking control in this way.

“I’m close,” you tell him. “Please make me cum.”

Jaehyun’s fingers dig into your thighs, and then he’s back at it. He takes lead again, sucking your clit into his mouth while you cry out and grab the sheets with your free hand.

Your eyes close, your back arching a little as he works you closer and closer to the edge.

It’s a steady build of pleasure, and then, you’re tipping over. You release a strangled gasp as ecstasy courses through you like electric shocks from the tip of your head down to your toes and fingers.

You can feel your pussy contracting with pleasure, a steady rhythm that prolongs the sensation. Jaehyun continues to suck on your clit, helping you through everything until you’re a gasping mess.

He relents, and you can hear him sit up. Your eyes are still closed, one hand now haphazardly thrown across your eyes as you try to catch your breath.

The sound of Jaehyun’s pants hitting the floor draws your attention, and you look up to find Jaehyun standing there in all his glory.

“Still want to do this?” he asks.

“Get over here,” you command, opening your arms for him.

Jaehyun flashes you a grin, then he rejoins you on the bed.

Your lips are meeting a moment later. It’s not a gentle slow exploration anymore, but a hungry, lust fuelled haze. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it turns you even more. You wrap your legs around his hips, tugging him closer.

His cock rubs between your pussy lips and you whimper, reaching between yourselves to line him up- Jaehyun takes your hand, moving it aside. Then, two fingers enter your soaked core and you groan against his lips.

“Gotta prep you,” Jaehyun muses. “You said you haven’t been fucked in a while.”

“Don’t tease though,” you warn gently, looking up at him.

“Never.” He kisses you again, drowning out the anxious thoughts as he finger fucks you, spreading his fingers and working you open in preparation for his cock.

Jaehyun begins to curl his digits, hitting the sensitive spot inside of you that has you groaning. You break the kiss to burrow your face against his throat, panting as he draws more and more pleasure out of your already exhausted body.

You feel something drip on your upper thigh, and you look down to see the precum leaking out of Jaehyun’s tip. “Sorry,” he groans, “I’m just, super turned on right now.”

“Then fuck me,” you insist, biting at his earlobe. “I’m prepped now.”

“You sure?”

“We’re both dripping, Jae, just fuck me.”

“You got it, superstar.” Jaehyun grins as he kisses you. He finger fucks you a little more and then he pulls his digits out of your wet core. You watch him sit up, licking his fingers clean, then he grabs the base of his cock.

He presses the tip into you, looking up to watch your reaction. When you release a moan, Jaehyun grins. He steadies over you again, his biceps bulging as his lips meet your own. He pushes deeper inside of you, taking it slow until his hips are flush against yours.

You both groan at the feeling.

“See?” you gasp. “Told you I could take you.”

“Taking me so well,” Jaehyun agrees, his breath hot against your throat as he begins to pepper your skin with kisses.

Jaehyun’s hips start to move, and he fucks you gently at first, allowing your inner walls to get used to the size of him. His kisses distract you as he opens you up, his pace increasing.

You release a loud moan when the tip of his cock hits a deep spot inside of you, and you can feel Jaehyun grin against your throat. “Right there?” he asks, doing the motion again. “Is that the place?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, nodding. “Right there.”

Jaehyun brings his lips to your own, and he kisses you deeply as he continues to abuse that special spot. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, keeping him close as he fucks you. God, you’re so lost in him, in the best possible way.

You never miss out on beauty sleep, but Jaehyun is more than worth it.

“Superstar?”

“Yeah?” you ask, half delirious.

“Would it be bad if I asked you to ride me?”

“Huh?”

“I just- I could still fuck up into you, but I don’t know, I kind of want to see you on top.”

“Really?” you look up at him in shock. “You strike me as a man who likes to have control.”

“Says the woman who likes to have control,” he counters with a grin. “Or… do you just want to be my pillow princess?”

You consider it for a moment. “You know what, yeah, let me get on top, I want to watch you when you cum.”

Jaehyun physically shivers from your words, and you watch his pupils dilate with interest. “Fuck,” he groans. “Yeah, get on top.”

It’s a quick adjustment, with Jaehyun dragging you onto his lap. You sit down on his cock and both of you groan at the feeling. He’s completely inside of you like this, and you press your hands to his chest, steadying yourself for a moment.

Then, you begin to bounce.

Jaehyun throws his head back against the pillows, moaning deeply.

Fuck, he’s so hot like this.

There’s something so erotic about being on top, on knowing that you’re going to be riding him when he cums.

Your whole relationship has been about competing for power, and now, in the midst of one of the most vulnerable exchanges of power, Jaehyun had stopped from his position on top to give you the opportunity to be in control.

You like that. You like it a lot.

It shows he hadn’t been lying when he’d talked about the two of you glowing together, and it gives you a newfound kind of hope for whatever relationship is budding between the two of you.

You ride him harder at the thought, and his hands find your hips, helping you bounce.

“Fuck, fuck-” Jaehyun groans, his fingers digging into your skin. “Feels so good.”

In all honesty, the first position had felt better for you, when he was doing all the work, but you’d never admit that to him, especially not while deep in the throes of passion like this. He’d already made you cum, and now, you want to return the favour.

You ignore the burning in your thighs, fucking Jaehyun in a way you’ve never fucked a man before. You can feel the power of it bubbling inside of you, and you focus on his expression, on the pleasure that’s written all over him.

“Jae,” you groan, “want you to cum for me.”

“Don’t-” he swallows thickly. “Don’t you want me to hold out a little longer?”

“It’s our first time, we have flights tomorrow,” you retort. “Just let go, I wanna feel it.”

“You and your scheduling,” Jaehyun laughs, but it quickly turns into a groan, his eyes closing again. “Fuck, okay, but you have to let me make it up to you sometime.”

“Next time we see each other we can spend hours fucking,” you tell him.

“Promise?”

“I promise, now be good and cum for me, yeah?”

Jaehyun shivers again, and there’s a slight look of confusion on his face. You get the sense that he’s not used to being talked down to like this- but it’s clear it turns him on in a new, foreign sort of way.

“Okay, yeah.” Jaehyun anchors himself against the bed, and then he begins fucking up into you, his muscles rippling under his perfect skin. “Shit, fuck-”

You watch the pleasure build in him, until he reaches his peak. The tension clearly snaps, and he lets out a deep groan that goes straight to your core.

You continue to ride him, intent on helping him through it-

Jaehyun grabs you and pulls you down to his chest, holding you still as he shoots his load deep in your pussy. He’s groaning in your ear, hips twitching-

God, you love the way you’re pinned like this, the way he’s cumming so hard he needed you to just stop.

You allow him to finish, and his grip slowly lets up on you. He’s no longer using his strength to keep you still, he’s just holding you, the two of you panting desperately.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” you mumble.

“That day, behind my trailer, the first time I held you,” Jaehyun clears his throat, “could you feel my heart racing the way it is now?”

“I was more focused on my own heart,” you admit.

“Yeah?”

“It was going pretty fast.”

Jaehyun releases a laugh, holding you tighter. “Guess we were both in for it, huh?”

“Guess so.”

Jaehyun holds you a little while longer, and then he sighs. “I should let you get your beauty sleep.”

“Yeah, but you can stay over if you want.”

“Really?”

“Could you imagine how much people would react if the paparazzi got a picture of you leaving my hotel tomorrow morning?”

Another chuckle escapes him. “You and your PR training.”

“You love it,” you insist.

Jaehyun releases a sigh, burying his face closer to your throat. “I do love it.”

You’re from the same world, the same industry, and no one has ever understood you or your job the way Jaehyun does.

Wrapped in his arms, the two of you set to fly to different countries in just a couple of hours, something about him just feels so right.

You’ve spent your whole life trying to be someone else for other people, for your management team, for your fans- but with Jaehyun, maybe you can just be exactly who you are, professional obligations and all.

He’d said it himself, he’d seen your glow from the moment you met, even as awkward kids on a tv show trying to make names for yourself. He’d seen your sparkle before you’d even seen it in yourself, and now, maybe he’s right. Maybe you can learn to glow together.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I kind of loved working on this au, I know it's not classical 'he's an actual cowboy' but I really loved working with Jae as this character

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🔮 preview. You’ve been in love before, but it was always different. You were always with men who saw you as a prize. They put you on a pedestal, and it was often one sided with genuine empathy. You were a support in their lives, as opposed to a form of mutual understanding.But Jaehyun understands you, so you can confidently say he’s the sweetest love you’ve had.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, worship kink, substantial foreplay/prep, fingering, squirting, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, dirty talk, praise, man handling, anal (thumb in the butt), etc… I petnames. (hers) superstar.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.4k I teaser wc. 180

🌙 starring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

bonus

“Wow,” you breathe, staring out at the crowd as you clutch the Grammy in your hand. “I can honestly say, I never expected this award. To win Best Music Video, I just- I’m in shock. I want to thank my parents, my label, my team of wonderful people, production, styling, Hwasa, who directed the video, and Mark, my manager. I want to thank my fans especially, I wouldn’t be anywhere without you. And, I also want to thank my amazing scene partner, Jaehyun. I know a lot of people were confused about Jae being the Model Cowboy, but he showed up to set, and something just clicked. We made magic with this one, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Thanks again, wow, thanks.”

You’re practically shaking as you make your way off the stage to go rejoin your group of people in the audience. Hwasa and Mark both give you a hug, and Johnny pats you on the back. When you reach Jaehyun, he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight as he presses kisses along your face.

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lucymmiller · 22 days ago

Text

Check Me Out

Two stressed souls meet in the check-out lane of a grocery store.

Pre/no-outbreak AU. Single-dad!Joel x fem!Reader.

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags: meet-cute, no reader description, reader uses she/her, Joel and his Southern manners, fluff, slice-of-life, ooh Joel Miller has a crush, mentions of Sarah Miller, mentions of Tommy Miller if you squint, shitty puns, profanity, no y/n, Joel is kinda smug, but also mildly-insecure!Joel, dinner party chaos, missing watch batteries, alcohol, slow-burnish?

Author’s Note: I had so much fun writing this!!! Inspired by an interaction I had yesterday at the store lol. I’m thinking of writing their date in a different part, maybe I make this into a mini-series, who knows. Let me know what you guys think :)

—-------

“Yes, I know she’s vegan, that’s why I’m swapping out the- what? You told me she was vegan last week, what do you-” You sigh, stopping in the middle of the produce section, hand hovering over a block of tofu.

“Well, if your fiancée makes another dietary decision between now and when I leave the store, just give me another call.” You hang up on Chris, your dearest friend from college, just a tad too quickly, already frustrated with the last-minute shopping you have to do for your dinner party tonight.

Technically, your fault, considering you’ve had this planned out since last month.

It’s fine, though. You have the last of the things you need in your basket and a bottle of wine waiting for you when you get home.

The grocery store is fairly busy today, riddled with tired parents stopping by to get groceries after work and older folks armed with their coupon books. All of the check-out lanes have a line of at least three shoppers in each. Fucking perfect, of course, when your dinner party guests arrive in just a little over two hours.

You wait anxiously at the end of one of the lanes, the line you’re in long enough to bleed into the baby formula aisle. You feel yourself start to stare off into space when, in your periphery, the light on Lane 4 flicks on.

You melt with relief and start to march over, piling your items onto the conveyor as the cashier, a middle-aged woman named Linda with her hair up to God, greets you. You expect the worst to happen as she reaches for the first item to scan, as if Chris is going to call and tell you his fiancée actually prefers the tempeh from some pricey fucking organic store across town, or the register somehow stops working, or-

“S’cuse me, ma’am.”

You don’t expect this.

You whip your head up to look at the source of the voice. Tall, scruffy, clearly exhausted. There’s a bunch of bananas balanced atop a container of formula in his left hand, his right reaching up to palm at the back of his neck.

“Mind if I uh-” He gestures to the display of gum that stands tall next to the conveyor belt. You let out a little oh before you step aside, letting him reach over and grab a packet of sugar-free spearmint.

Your eyes dart down to his left hand again. No ring, you notice. You look back up at his tired face.

“Did you wanna go ahead of me? You’ve only got a couple items.”

You should be in a rush. You should be ignoring this ruggedly handsome man with the bananas and the formula and the gum and be speeding home right now, throwing your groceries onto the counter and pre-heating your oven to 375°. You’re not evil, though.

“You sure? Seemed like you were in a rush, earlier.”

He’s observant. Cute.

“It’s fine, really. I’m sure you’ve got more important places to be.” You give him a polite smile and step aside, your lower back pressing into a rack of candy bars as he squeezes by. He smells a bit like coffee and sawdust and baby powder.

“S’real nice of you, miss. Thank you.” He nods, mirroring your smile as he sets down his items.

“Came here looking for watch batteries. Left with stuff for the baby, as always.” He lets out an awkward breath of a laugh, right hand coming down to slap the face of his watch on the left. When you glance at it, its hands remain still, and there’s a peek of paler skin beneath its green straps.

“None in that uh- shelf near the gift cards?” You inquire. “No ma’am.” He mumbles. He steps forward to collect his bag of items.

You expect him to thank you again, give you a curt nod and be on his way. But he stays. Stands there and watches as Linda scans your plethora of items.

“What type’a batteries are they?” You sputter out when you realize he isn’t leaving. Why in the world would you ask him, as if you’d know where the hell you’d find watch batt-

When he reaches into his pocket and fishes out the tiny coin cell battery, you realize that you in-fact do know where to find his watch batteries. Because you fucking have them.

“Shit, wait- I have those. Bought ‘em a while ago when my nephew’s robot thingy needed a replacement, but I still have the rest of them, if you wanted.” You shrug.

“Oh, no, that’d be askin’ for too much from you-” He starts to shake his head, and the threads of silver hair near his temple sparkle against the harsh overhead lights.

“You didn’t ask,” you retort. “I offered.”

“Hmph.” He gives you a once-over, seemingly amused by your kind stubbornness.

“This has been real cute to watch, but I need y’all to move. Got a line.” Linda interrupts your stare-off with the man, prompting you to look behind you. You’re met with the unpleasant scowls of three coupon-wielding seniors with full shopping carts. “Sorry,” you chirp, quickly paying and reaching over to gather your bags, only to realize that Mister Watch-Battery already took them for you. He nods his head sideways towards the exit, already walking ahead of you.

“Never got your name.” He says as you lead him toward your car.

You give him your first name, then ask for his.

“Joel. Miller.”

“‘Kay, Joel Miller, listen-” You rummage through your purse for your car keys, popping open the trunk and watching as he hauls your groceries into it like they weigh nothing. “I’ve got people coming over for dinner in about two hours, so I can’t get your watch battery to you right this instant…”

“Oh, s’okay, really, I’m in no rush to find-”

“What time is it?” You tilt your head as you ask him the question.

He straightens his left arm, knocking the cuff of his flannel out of the way before lifting it up to read his watchface… which is still frozen in time.

His face drops and you can’t help but giggle.

“Not gonna know when you need to get home to feed your baby bananas ‘n’ formula f’you don’t got a watch, Mr. Miller.” You glance up at his sulking figure with a smirk as you scribble something down onto the back of your grocery list.

You hand the crumpled paper to him. “My address. Stop by later and I’ll give you your battery.”

“Shouldn’t be giving your address out to strangers.” He chides.

You shrug. “My apartment’s about to be full of tipsy psychos so… it’s your call.”

He hovers by the car door once you get into the driver’s seat, pocketing the paper before leaning a hand against the roof of your car. “Good luck cookin’ for your uh- dinner party.” He leans down, eyes darting around the interior of your car, looking at anything but your face through the rolled-down window.

“Thank you, Joel. Hopefully you’ll get there before the food’s gone.” You smile.

“We’ll see.” He grumbles before knocking on the roof and taking a step back.

When you back up and honk to say goodbye, clicking your blinker to merge onto the main road, you see him in the rearview mirror. He hasn’t moved from your parking spot yet.

—-------

Your tiny dinner table is packed, everyone’s three glasses of wine in, and your friend Aubrey put a record on your player in the living room and cranked the volume to the max about thirty minutes ago.

You’re too busy trying to portion leftover tofu stir-fry into take-home tubs to notice someone knocking at your door.

Chris had excused himself to the bathroom not too long ago, so when he hollers your name loud enough to break through the stringy rhythms of Steve Earle, you jump a little.

“There’s a… guy. At the door.” He says as you approach him with a concerned look.

You peek past his tall stature, expecting the “guy” to be your divorced-dad of a neighbor frowning and asking you to turn the music down.

To your surprise, it’s not your neighbor.

It’s Joel Miller.

“You actually came,” you breathe, eyes widening.

“You offered.” He says smugly. Asshole.

He clears his throat, then awkwardly lifts a bottle of wine you hadn’t noticed he was holding. “Brought this as payment for the battery.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to-” You start, but before you can even finish your sentence, Chris is taking the bottle from Joel and sauntering off back to the table with a lazy smile. Your lips fall into a flat line.

You step aside to let him in, leading him through your narrow foyer before taking a sharp turn right into your kitchen.

“Steve Earle.” He hums, barely audible over the music that’s somehow gotten louder.

“It’s one of my dad’s old records. Was my favorite as a kid. Stole it before I moved out.” You smile, reminiscing as you search through your junk drawer for the batteries.

“You got good taste.” Joel nudges your shoulder with his. Flannel against skin.

Your apartment starts to feel a little warmer.

“Who is this?” You hear a sing-songy voice glide in next to you. It’s your friend Bea in all of her tipsy, curly-haired glory. She’s eyeing him like you would a stranger at a bar.

“This is Joel, met him in the check-out line today. He’s lookin’ for batteries that I should have but can’t seem to find.” You grumble, slightly panicked as you continue to sift through a box of spare metal bits from an IKEA shelf you assembled the other month.

“Hmph,” Bea bumps her hip with yours, and you already know where this is going. “Wish he would check me out.” She mumbles, and you nearly knock the wine glass out of her hand. Before you get the chance to actually do that, she scurries away with a giggle.

“Sorry about that.” You mumble, shooting Joel an apologetic look.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about,” his lips curl up into a gentle smile, “You warned me about ‘em earlier, didn’t you? Tipsy psychos.”

“I did.” You concede. “Sorry this is taking so long, I swear I have them.”

“You apologize a lot,” Joel notes, his eyebrows furrowed with amusement, “been here all of five minutes, sweetheart. Take your time.”

While you continue your search in a different area, the linen closet turned storage closet near your bedroom, you ask him about himself.

“I’m assuming the uh- baby formula wasn’t for you to consume. You got a kid?”

He laughs and nods, leaning against the wall next to the closet. “Mhm. Sarah. Curls for days,” he shakes his head, and when you look up at his face, there’s clear admiration for his kid. “Turnin’ six months soon, thought we’d give bananas a shot today.”

“What’s the verdict?”

“Loved ‘em. Started mushin’ ‘em up in her hands and just-” He cuts himself off, mimicking his little girl’s movements with his own hands and a chomping mouth. It makes you throw your head back in laughter. His grin grows wider.

You eventually stop searching completely, too engrossed in Joel’s stories about his almost-six-month old, finding yourself admiring his admiration for his baby.

Halfway through a story about spit-up, you’re reminded of why he’s here in the first place. “Shit, let me find your batteries. Get you out of here and back to the wife and kid.” You test the waters. No ring, you know, but that could be for any reason. You’re not even sure why you’re questioning it.

He’s quiet for a moment, simply watching as you find a box with an Energizer logo half-ripped.

“Just the kid. My brother’s watchin’ her right now.”

You fight back a smile.

You nod, too afraid to look at him, worried you’re going to say something stupid if you do.

“Ha, here they are.” You lift up the flimsy cardboard sheet up victoriously, two of the coin cell batteries gone from the plastic packaging. You pop two of them out, lifting your hand to drop them into Joel’s.

“Take one for the road too.” You joke. He smiles.

“Can’t thank you enough.” He mumbles as he takes his watch off, popping the back panel off and slotting the battery in. He flips it back over, and you both breathe with relief when the hands start tick tick ticking away.

He secures the green straps back onto his wrist before dropping his hand, looking at you as if he has more to say.

“Let me walk you out.” You nod your head in the vague direction of your front door.

“BYE JOE!” You hear Bea shout over the scratchy record and shake your head with a chuckle. Joel lifts his hand with a polite goodbye, stepping over the threshold of your door. You lean against the doorframe with crossed arms.

“Can I repay you?” He asks, shoving his hands into his jean pockets.

You’re immediately shaking your head no. “It’s just a couple batteries that I forgot I even had before you showed me which ones you needed, you don’t have-”

“Dinner.” He blurts.

“What?” Your eyes narrow with confusion.

“Let me take you out to dinner.” He breathes, like he’s been holding onto those words this entire time.

You freeze, still in disbelief that you even managed to convince him to even stop by to retrieve his fucking batteries. When he raises his eyebrows expectantly, you manage a few words.

“That uhm- sure, I mean, yes, dinner sounds.. great.” You both stare each other down. You expect him to bail, to realize how ridiculous it is to ask you out, just because you did him a favor. He expects you to bail out on him, because he took you away from your friends at your own dinner party, because he’s an exhausted single dad whose hamper is filled with spit-up stained shirts.

But neither of you do.

“Next Friday okay?” He looks at you with hopeful eyes.

You nod. “Next Friday is okay.”

“Okay. G’night.” He smiles.

“Goodnight, Joel.”

When you close your door, you nearly collapse in your foyer. Just as your heart rate starts to slow down, your friends pop out from the corner leading into your kitchen, all wide-eyes and toothy grins.

“Our girl’s got a date!” Aubrey yells, prompting the rest of them to cheer.

“You guys are so stupid,” You mutter, masking your bashful smile by pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes.

When you turn to circle next Friday on your calendar in the kitchen, you’re met with a surprise.

Thick handwriting, undeniably Bea’s, scrawled onto the date a week from today with Sharpie:

CHECK HER OUT!!!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller headcanons #the last of us #pedro pascal #tlou hbo #tlou #meet cute #slow burn #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel x reader

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kajibunny · 1 year ago

Text

.⋆｡🍓࿔˚what their kisses taste like...⊹ ࣪˖🍰˚⊹♡ w/ wind breaker boys

✿ featuring: ren kaji, haruka sakura, hajime umemiya, hayato suo, jo togame, mitsuki kiryu ✿ contains: fluffy fluff fluff, looots of kissing, descriptions of the way they taste ✿ a/n: i honestly think they would all taste really good (•ᴗ<˶)✧₊ ⊹ that's it, that's the post i guess! happy reading, cuties! ♥︎ ✿ wc: 1.5k

ʚɞ kaji -

kaji asked you to hold his lollipop for him, entrusting you with his half-eaten candy in your hands while he went to buy a drink from the vending machine.

you pop the sweet sucker into your mouth, an unconscious habit. ever since you two got together you've always shared everything with kaji, so sharing his lollipop should be no exception, right?

"that's mine." his eyes are now fixated on your mouth, where his lollipop stick hangs out of, and he can't help but think about how it's just been in his mouth about ten seconds ago, and he wondered if you could taste him on it too.

"i'll buy you some more tomorrow." you told him, with no intention of giving back his lollipop at all.

"it's okay. i don't mind sharing with you." kaji takes out the lollipop from your mouth and gives you a taste of his own lips instead, pressing it against yours fervently.

oh, so that's what he meant by sharing.

notes of peach faintly made its way onto your lips, and transferring over to his as well. "this is mine, too." he declares, once again staking his claim on your mouth, which tasted just as sweet as the lollipop he just had, maybe even sweeter.

kissing you left such a nice taste, fueling kaji's desire for more, so much so that it made him contemplate about the thought of replacing his lollipops with your lips instead.

ʚɞ sakura -

sakura is still so, so blushy around you, even though you two have spent multiple nights together, his face still flushes scarlet whenever you did your nightly self-care routine, your shoulder touching his while he was brushing his teeth over the sink. he finished up and rinsed off, while you waited for him with a huge, proud smile on your face.

"good job, baby!" you peck his lips, obsessed with the way he adorably heats up every time you praise him, this time it was for not forgetting to brush before bedtime.

"wh-what are you doing!?" he jumps up after he felt your lips on his, which tasted of spearmint from the toothpaste he had just used.

"giving you your goodnight kiss!" you replied, with a matter-of-factly tone.

the next night, sakura brushed his teeth again in your shared bathroom while you hovered over the sink, your cleanser in hand. after rinsing his mouth, he just stood there expectantly, as if waiting for you to do something.

he stared at you with a blush sprawled across his face. "y-you're forgetting something!" he blurted out. you shot him a puzzled look. "am i?"

sakura's eyes darted down to your lips, giving you a hint of just what he needed from you. "oh, your goodnight kiss? if you liked it so much, you should have said so!" you giggled, smooching sakura's lips like there's no tomorrow.

ʚɞ suo -

to say that suo is playful would be an understatement. underneath that sweet, smiling face, lies beneath a naughty guy who has an obsession with the way you taste.

"you have a little teacake at the corner of your mouth." suo, feigning concern, points to the space beside your lips.

"where?" you ask as you try to search for it with your fingertips, to no avail. your eyes brought itself back to suo's scarlet ones, now inches away from your face.

his lips captures yours in an unexpected kiss, and suo's tongue darts out to lick off the little crumb of teacake at the corner of your mouth. "there, all gone!" he hums happily, a grin on his face, drinking his tea as if his mouth was not latched on to yours just two seconds ago.

now you know why you barely ever get to see suo eat, it's because he'll only eat if it tastes like you.

ʚɞ umemiya -

you were supposed to wake umemiya up from his nap on the hammock five minutes ago, but how could you?

his eyes were fluttered shut, hair down and relaxed, umemiya's chest heaving softly, looking like he was so at peace. you hoped he had been dreaming about you, which he probably was, judging from the way a content smile made its way across his lips.

you just couldn't help yourself as you angled down and gave him a quick little kiss. you giggled to yourself as you caught the aroma of fresh herbs from kissing him, he was probably picking and sampling them and decided to take a little nap afterwards.

umemiya's eyes slowly opened to the sight of you, him immediately wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into the hammock with him. "i didn't even feel that, can you give me one more? pleeeease?" he pleaded, nuzzling his head on your shoulder.

you complied, giving him another kiss, and he went to deepen it by pulling you even closer. "can you wake me up like this all the time?" umemiya could definitely see himself quickly becoming addicted to your kisses.

you sighed and giggled, tightly embracing him. how could you ever say no to this man?

ʚɞ togame -

togame was definitely tall, no doubt about it. of course it has its perks and advantages too, like he can reach things for you really easily, he gave the greatest piggyback rides, he was your human furnace during cold nights, and the likes.

but one thing his height got in the way of was kissing. particularly whenever you wanted to kiss him.

you tugged on togame's robe in a futile attempt to pull him down closer to you. a "hmm?" escaping togame's lips, as a little smile made its way across. he continued drinking his ramune while his eyes made its way to your form.

"you're too tall, jo." you sighed. even on your tiptoes, you failed to bring his face down to your level so you could kiss him.

"that so?" he let out a slight chuckle. togame eventually lends you a little help as he leans down until his face was directly in front of yours.

"you could've kissed me if you tried just a little harder, angel." he caresses your cheek, lightly teasing you, his lips capturing yours in a long, slow and passionate kiss.

"i wanted to kiss you properly." a pout present on your lips. togame loved your cute little pout, it made him want to kiss you more and more.

"don't worry, we can do it again and again until you are satisfied."

jo togame was insatiable for you, loving the way you taste, always hungry for more.

ʚɞ kiryu -

you have been crushing on kiryu for quite a while now, him being 'totally your type', as you talked about him on and on to your friends, them eagerly listening to you gushing about kiryu's pretty pink hair, soft gentle eyes, beautiful piercings, cat-like smile and not to mention his silly hotdog phone case.

your friends told you to just go for it, be bold and just ask him if he was dating someone already so that you could cease daydreaming about him occupying your thoughts all day and night, preventing you from getting a proper good night's sleep.

"kiryu, is there a girl you like?" you nervously ask him.

"there is, actually." he replies. "would you like to see her? i can show you."

oh. so he had someone he liked already.

the way he smiled as he gave you a direct answer made you want to bury yourself in the ground and never come out.

"y-yeah, sure! i want to see. is she pretty?" you tried to hide the discouraged tone in your voice, thinking about how kiryu's thoughts are probably filled to the brim with his crush, like what you had with him.

"she is! super pretty! this is her." he picks up his phone and flashes the screen in front of you. half of you did not want to see the object of kiryu's desires, but you were curious and the urge to peek won over you.

on his phone was a picture of none other than you.

it was a zoomed in photo of you, smiling and laughing while you talked with your friends, and it seemed to be taken after you had just waved "hi" to kiryu. it took a while for you to comprehend that what he meant was that the girl he liked all this time was actually you.

"she likes you too, kiryu." your cheeks were tinged as pink as his hair, and as pink as kiryu's kissable lips.

speaking of kiryu's kissable lips, they were making their way onto yours now, brushing against yours, as you felt the cold metal of his labret piercing touch the bottom of your lip. his lips were so soft and warm in contrast to his piercing.

"i've wanted to do that for a long time now." the corners of his mouth turning upwards in a sweet smile. little did kiryu know, you wanted his strawberry chapstick flavored kisses just as much, and maybe even longer.

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coffeefleecy · 5 months ago

Text

Serpent in the Shadows

Pairing: Caleb X MC

Summary: Insomnia is a cruel captor.

You've been having difficulty sleeping for months and trying every natural remedy under the Sun. As a last resort, you try begging - pleading for a little bit of relief. Will your pleas finally be answered?

Word Count: 4.1k

Part One | Part Two | Part Three Part Four

Tags/Warnings: incubus!Caleb, smut, degradation, dacryphilia, slight manipulation, dream sex

Insomnia is a cruel captor.

For the last few weeks - months, really - you’ve tried every vitamin, tea and trick under the Sun. Melatonin works in spurts, lulling you into a light doze right before experiencing a jarring falling sensation that yanks you from the slack grasp of the REM cycle. Rather than feeling any kind of relief from this, the Melatonin leaves you feeling slightly drunk, groggy in a way that makes you crankier than if you had just gone without sleep entirely.

No amount of sleepytime tea offers you any kind of reprieve. The floral chamomile and mild sting of spearmint soothe your senses, but ultimately create more problems with the extra bathroom trip that so conveniently occurs right as you’re dozing off.

The light pink alarm clock on your nightstand that’s normally pleasant and relaxing to look at blares bright red numbers back at you that you can’t blink away.

2:09

The silky satin of your hair-friendly pillowcase feels stifling and no amount of switching the pillow over seems to cool it off. With a strangled groan, you turn on your side to face away from the alarm clock’s mocking glare.

“Please,” You beg silently. “Please, just an hour. No - thirty minutes. Something.”

Your only solace for the current predicament is that you don’t have work in the morning. At least there’s that, you think. No amount of caffeine serves any kind of benefits for you, the jitters and stomach pains that come with the anxiety render coffee and energy drinks pointless.

Between counting those proverbial sheep and inventing new colorful curse words, sleep mercifully claims you.

Your dreams are never all that eventful and for the longest time, you thought that was normal for everyone. The idea of keeping some kind of dream journal used to be enticing for you, but the reality was that the entries would be so painfully dull they wouldn’t even be worth the paper they’d be written on and forgotten moments after waking. Sometimes your dreams are so mundane it doesn’t even feel like you’re asleep, so when you feel the bed dip beside you, your dream-state self pays no mind.

“Hello, there,” a male’s playful voice purrs into the depths of darkness.

It’s as if you’ve been doused with liquid nitrogen, body freezing into absolute terror. Is this sleep paralysis?

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you,” he promises as he rests a large hand on your hip. “I’m actually here to help you.”

The line between dream and reality warps as your exhausted brain tries to piece bits of what’s happening together into a puzzle that makes sense. On one hand, you’d like to investigate the source of the voice and the touch you find that you’re not shying away from - but on the other, the idea of what’s awaiting you incites a cacophony of alarms and sirens, begging you to listen to reason.

“Don’t be scared,” He murmurs, delicately trailing his fingertips from your hip to your waist, his touch feather-light. “After all, you did invite me.”

“I invited you?” Your voice wavers with uncertainty.

“Mhm, in fact, I think you begged for me to come here tonight.”

You swallow thickly as you realize your body is relaxing into his touch, all innocent on the surface with malicious intent and threats lurking in the shadows. With an unsettling gentleness, the unknown man’s hand drifts further up, purposefully ignoring your breasts to soothingly trace your collarbone.

“I - I don’t understand.”

“What’s so difficult to grasp? Weren’t you begging for an extra hour of sleep by any means necessary?”

Even in your sleep-addled confusion, a frightened half-gasp robs you of breath.

“How did you know that?”

“I know everything, pipsqueak,” He taunts. “I’ve been watching you for a little while. Poor baby can’t seem to get any sleep, huh? How about I fix it for you? You want me to make it all better?”

“Who are you? How have you been watching me?”

“Hm, guess that’d be Caleb to you,” He grants, callous and cavalier as he drags his fingertips up your neck and to your jaw. “The rest is none of your fuckin’ business.”

“Am I - am I dreaming?”

Caleb hooks his index finger and thumb under your chin, moving you just so you’re forced to meet his gaze over your shoulder. You’re met with a commanding and conniving countenance, sinister intentions that marr an otherwise ethereal face. Caleb’s eyes are smoldering violets flecked with afire cinders beneath a frame of thick, long lashes no man has ever deserved the right to possess. The outer corners of his eyelids turn down to give him the illusion of a charming sweetness, his puppy-like visage further exacerbated by the captivating way his lower eyelids puff out. Caleb would be the portrait of the unassuming, starry-eyed boy next door if he wasn’t looking at you like he wants to consume every last bit of you.

“I dunno,” Caleb pretends to consider. “Do you think you’re dreaming?”

“Why are you here?” You demand, ignoring his sarcastic echo of the question he’s deflecting.

“I told you, pipsqueak, I’m here for you. You know that I’m right and you know that you’ve been begging for sleep, so why don’t we cut the dumb act? Doesn’t really suit you, y’know?”

Caleb releases his grip on your chin and sits up behind you and you don’t know why you’re so shocked at how large he is; every part of him so domineering and demanding to be seen. He cocks his head to the side, observing you with a calculating curiosity that immediately makes you feel the need to cover up despite being entirely clothed.

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you? This is gonna be fun for me. Why don’t you turn over on your back for me so I can see you a little better?”

This must be sleep paralysis. Despite his unnecessary permission, an invisible force weighs you down, rendering any movement in your limbs fruitless. Even talking proves to be a task for you and every word you’ve managed to utter thus far has left your throat desiccated, screaming in protest and raw with exertion.

“Oh, right - my bad,” Caleb snorts. “Here, that any better?”

A warm, tingling phenomenon washes over your body as the gravity weighing on you vanishes entirely, leaving behind a painfully pleasant buzz akin to the renewed circulation of blood to a previously cut off limb. The sensation of feeling returning to your body is jarring and so sudden that you can feel yourself trembling and almost pay no notice to Caleb turning you over on your back to look up at him.

“What was that?”

“I dunno, it’s your dream isn’t it?” Caleb smirks down at you, cruel and handsome as his eyes sweep over the newly visible parts of you.

“This feels so real,” You argue.

“Does it? Huh,” Caleb shrugs. “Guess that just makes it better for you then, doesn’t it?”

“Why are you here?” You press, uselessly covering your clothed body with your arms, the act more of self-soothing than actual utility.

Caleb’s eyes narrow and he scoffs, clearly annoyed with your probing line of questioning.

“I already told you why I’m here, dummy. Just be a good girl for me and I can take care of you, okay? I can help you sleep, trust me.”

“Trust you? I don’t even know who you are?”

“You might not know who I am directly, but you did ask for me. I just told you, don’t you remember?”

Caleb grins when you look at him with a dumbfounded expression.

“Please, an hour - what was it? Something like you whining for thirty minutes of uninterrupted rest? Come on, I can put you to sleep.”

“Who are you?”

“I told you who I am. My name is Caleb,” He presses a finger to your lips when you try to interrupt. “I’m here to put you to sleep. Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“But I was already asleep -”

“Okay, how’s this - I’m here to fuck the sleep into your body. That clear enough for you? You’ve been having trouble sleeping - anyone can see that from those bags underneath your eyes - and I’m here to make you feel so good you can finally relax. I already told you that I know who you are and what you want - why else would I have come here? I’m in your dream, pipsqueak - this is your mind telling you exactly what you want, so why deprive yourself?”

His words are crass and impatient, cutting through the unnecessary fat of pleasantries and straight through your core. You hate how his vulgarity makes you throb and the fact that he’s voicing thoughts you’ve never uttered yourself make you want to shrivel up with shame.

“Since we’re so certain this is a dream, then what’s the harm? Surely you can indulge a little, hm?” Caleb prompts and flattens the palm of his hand on the fabric over your stomach.

You can feel your resolve dwindling at his touch and judging from the way he’s voicing the things you’ve been secretly desiring, he likely knows it. Sensing the lingering threads of your hesitation fraying, Caleb tugs at them a bit harder.

“Those flowers over there - the ones on your dresser,” He jerks his head in the general direction. “Are they normally there?”

Flowers? You’re not certain – they aren’t something you keep in your home considering the short lifespan and the fact that you’re not great about keeping those kinds of things alive with your busy work lifestyle. Maybe he’s right, then - why would you have flowers in your room? You lift your head to see that he’s right, greeting you with the sight of an unassuming, small vase containing two blood-red roses. They sit on your dresser next to a smattering of knick-knacks - jewelry boxes that you definitely remember and a few other items that are too hard to make out even with the moonlight.

“See? Those wouldn’t be there if you weren’t dreaming, right?” Caleb reasons, his fingertips curling into the fabric of your comforter in their itch to throw it off of you.

“I - I guess not,” You concede, pondering the likelihood and vaguely registering the gooseflesh prickling your skin as Caleb pries the blanket from your body.

“That’s it, relax for me, sweetheart,” He encourages you with a gleeful grin. “You’ve been having some trouble, huh?”

“Y-yes,” You shudder as Caleb toys with the hem of your plain, thin sleep shirt.

“Oh, I know,” He says sweetly, tugging the fabric up just enough to expose half of your stomach. “I can see it, sweetheart. I can hear it when you’re frustrated, all restless when you toss and turn.”

Caleb lowers himself over you, caging you in with strong, secure arms as his shaggy hair tickles your forehead.

“I can feel it, too – feel how tightly your body is wound up, how desperate you are when you can’t make that feeling go away. You’ve tried so hard with these useless little fingers of yours, haven’t you?”

“I don’t know -”

“Shh,” Caleb admonishes before placing a sweet kiss on your cheek. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. How many times have you tried to touch yourself before you give up, baby? I know, but do you?”

“Caleb, I don’t - it’s embarrassing.”

“8 times in the last three days, but you seem to have taken tonight off,” Caleb observes nonchalantly, as though he’s not privy to the most secret and hidden parts of your lack of pleasure. “Why’s that, I wonder? Is that why you had to beg for me tonight?”

“Are you really here to help me?” Your voice is distant even to your own ears, small and trembling like the last leaf on a barren tree.

“Oh, absolutely,” Caleb swears as he simpers over you, tone sickly saccharine and saturated with conviction. “Will you let me? I need you to say it out loud and I need you to fucking beg me for it or I’m not giving you anything.”

“Please help me, Caleb,” You whine, his hands slipping under your shirt to rest on your stomach sapping the last of your inhibitions away.

“Not good enough, pipsqueak. Be more specific, yeah? I know you can use those big girl words,” Caleb trails his lips from your cheek to your ear and whispers menacingly, “Beg for me to touch you.”

“Touch me, Caleb,” You amend, shivering as Caleb tugs at your earlobe with his teeth, sharp enough to leave indents but not enough to draw blood. “I want you to make me feel good and help me get sleep.”

You don’t recognize this version of yourself, so pliant and desperate under the touch of a man you know nothing about save for a name you’re almost certain isn’t real. Everything around you melts away as Caleb envelops your body, practically swallowing you as he commands your focus.

“Awe, asking me so nicely,” Caleb licks the shell of your ear and delights in the way you tremble beneath him. “How do you want me to touch you, though? You’ve got to be specific.”

“I thought you knew e-everything,” You moan, craning your neck for him as his lips travel to your throat, his tongue darting out to soothe over the little bites he’s nibbling into your skin.

“I want YOU to know what you’re really asking for, though,” Caleb slightly raises himself up on his elbows for his gaze to bore into yours. “I’ll give you everything you want if you ask for it.”

“Please, touch me like I’ve been trying to touch myself,” You pant. “I want your f-fingers.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Caleb praises, lowering his head to lick the pulse point in your throat. “Mm, you taste delicious.”

He sucks a bit harder into your skin, something you would be worried about if you weren’t so sure this is a dream and sigh when he pulls away, disappointed by the loss.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m just gonna take these little shorts off, yeah? These are a little revealing, aren’t they? Fuck, these legs. Such a shame no one ever gets to see them.”

Caleb gleefully hums to himself, clearly pleased with the way things are unfolding as he hooks his fingers into the hem of your shorts and carefully pulls them down your thighs. You surrender yourself to the feeling of his deceptively delicate touch and faintly register the intoxicating scent of apples, the scent soothing away your anxieties even when your pink cotton panties are exposed.

“Aren’t these just adorable,” Caleb remarks, his eyes blazing and hungry with the unexplored territory. “I could just fucking devour you.”

The idea of his head between your thighs makes you clench them together and with the friction, you register the wetness seeping through the thin fabric. A raw, animalistic groan rumbles in the back of Caleb’s throat as he observes this, gaze locked to where you’re squirming.

“Open your fucking legs, sweetheart,” He demands, his hands digging into both of your thighs as he coaxes them open. “That’s it, you’d better be a good girl for me or I’ll just leave you like this.”

“No, no,” You panic, parting your legs completely for him in the sudden fear of him leaving. “Please, I’ll be good.”

Caleb’s grin widens, lips curling villainously as a glint of amusement dances in the light of his eyes.

“That’s fuckin’ right, you don’t honestly think you could do this without me, hm? That’s right, good girl,” He purrs, dragging his fingertips up your thighs. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me, it’s all over your legs, you messy girl. I’m gonna touch you, okay?”

You nod vigorously, praying your body tells him what you can’t vocalize, the pathway from your brain to your mouth short circuiting, compromised with the intense feelings. Mercifully, Caleb doesn’t demand you to speak anymore and preoccupies himself with the pathetically wet fabric covering what he wants to see most. Caleb maddeningly runs his hands up your thighs until they meet your pelvis, teasing you there with gentle touches that only serve to drive your desperation.

“I thought you were supposed to be touching me,” You complain, irritation seeping into your wrecked voice as Caleb’s fingers whisper over your legs.

“Oh, that’s just bratty,” Caleb chides, not even bothering to keep the amusement from his expression. “You gonna beg me a little more? You sound so fuckin’ pretty when you beg.”

All of the objections you’ve been sharpening on your tongue die at the tip when Caleb presses against your heat through your panties, the pressure shattering your complaints as he rubs in circles, delighting as you silently scream, mouth agape and eyes glazed over.

“You want ‘em inside?” Caleb asks as he watches your hips buck into his touch. “Bet you’re clenching around nothing right now, yeah? Would you like that?”

“Y-yes, please,” You implore, legs spreading as wide they can of their own accord. “I just want -”

“Wanna come? Awe, you humans are so cute,” Caleb coos, the fact that he made any kind of comment about species drowned out by his fingers tugging your panties to the side so he can touch you properly.

You melt into his touch, chasing his fingers with every bit of exertion your body has left. Caleb parts your lips with his middle finger and gently probes inside, trying to gauge what his best course of action is. Instead of the faint resistance you’re expecting, his finger glides inside of you with ease and he begins shallowly fucking you with it.

“It’s not enough is it?” Caleb asks with a sarcastic sympathy, his smile widening when your eyebrows knit together as you glare at him. “Of course it isn’t, look at how greedy this pussy is.”

Caleb thrusts his finger in all the way before slowly dragging it out and removing it entirely, a thick, clear strand of your arousal stretching with his hand as he produces it for you to examine.

“You’ve never been this turned on in your life, have you? Wow, that’s sad, you poor thing. Only action you can get is in your supposed dreams and even then you have to beg for it - wait -” Caleb trails off as he observes your face.

“Wh-what?”

“You cryin’?”

Your tears of frustration have gone under the radar of your attention entirely and it’s only when he directly points it out that you register the wetness on your cheeks. Caleb chortles, shoulders shaking with laughter as he revels in his amusement.

“You are, you’re fucking crying! Oh, no,” He consoles you, using his hand soaked with your arousal to make a show of wiping away those tears, smearing your slick across your face. “That’s better, don’t worry - you’ve been such a good girl for me, I’ll make you feel better.”

Caleb leans forward like he’s going to finally kiss you and instead flattens his tongue against your cheek to lick up your tears the mess he’s made on your face. The sick fuck shudders at the taste and has the audacity to smack his lips.

“I need to get a taste directly from the fucking source, you’re so delicious,” Caleb groans.

“Y-You can,” You find yourself saying, acquiescing to a request you’re not even sure he’s going to follow through on when you know damn well you’re not ready for it.

“Naaah, not tonight,” Caleb teases you and it’s almost like he can hear your thoughts. He sits back on his heels to tug your panties down your legs and lets out a choked groan. “Fuck, that’s a sight.”

You can feel yourself being lifted with little to no decorum as Caleb sweeps a strong arm under your butt, raising your hips closer to him for better access. Before you know it, Caleb is pushing his middle and index finger inside of you, working his thumb on your clitoris in tandem. His fingers are precise, diligent and practiced in a way that makes you wonder how many people he’s done this to. The thought is fleeting; inconsequential and obsolete when Caleb presses his thumb harder against you, using his other arm as leverage to force you to grind against his palm and coating him with your wetness.

“That’s it, pretty girl, ride my fingers. Oh, you’re doing so good,” He sounds like he pities you, like the pleasure he’s commanding from your body means nothing more to him than a means to an end, but his blown out pupils tell a much different story.

“C-Caleb,” You choke out through freshly shed tears, the sound and sight awakening a newfound energy from him.

“Give me your tears, give me your pleasure and give me your everything,” Caleb snarls, scissoring his fingers inside of you while he toys with your clit. “Come all over my fingers and give me something to taste like a good girl.”

His words are harsh, demanding and congruent with his actions in the way his fingers are working you into a fucked out disarray. You succumb to your pleasure, unable to control the sound and pitch of your voice as you choke out sobs of the name he’s given you and nonsense. The coil inside of you snaps, pleasure shattering like shrapnel into every fiber of your being, weaving into your makeup and taking over. Black dots spot your vision and Caleb filters in and out of view as your grasp on reality ebbs and flows in turbulent waves.

“Rest now, sweetheart,” Caleb’s voice soothes you as you come down from your peak, uncharacteristically kind. “Just call me again if you need me, ‘kay? I’ll take care of you.”

It’s almost like he cares.

A beat skips and a sudden silence permeates your clouded mind. Time is working in funny ways and your post-orgasmic haze cloaks you in confusion. How long has it been? A second? A minute? An hour?

“W-wait,” You reach out, blindly, sight still compromised as you come back from your blacked out bliss.

You feel nothing but the chill of the cold air and you’re suddenly very aware of how sweaty you are as liquid beads at the nape of your neck. As you blink, the room comes slowly back into view. Caleb is nowhere in sight and the image of him that was so clear in your dreams begins to taper off, fading slowly no matter how hard you try to remember.

A dream.

The blankets and sheets that usually stay put even in your more restless nights twist around your ankles, leaving your body exposed. Panicked, you paw at yourself and sigh in relief when you find that you’re fully clothed, despite an uncomfortable, cold wetness in your panties. Slightly confused, you pry yourself from the linens trapping your feet and stumble across the room to your dresser in search of new clothes.

It had to have been a dream, you tell yourself, comforted by the fact that everything seems to be in order aside from your own dishevelment.

In your haste to find new underwear, you yank one of the drawers out a little too roughly, causing the entire dresser to shake. Rumblings of loose jewelry and clutter create a racket, the contrast of sounds an unpleasant dissonance as things noisily fall to the floor. You ignore the chaos in favor of dry clothes, deciding you’ll deal with it when you’re decent.

With trembling hands, you peel your sleep shorts and drenched panties from your body, using the fabric to soak up the evidence of your wet dream guilt. You fight the urge to cringe as the wet fabric hits the floor; laundry being another thing you’ve decided you’ll deal with later, but you notice smattering of a few hair clips and miscellaneous jewelry litter the floor from your bull in a china shop tendencies. With a sigh, you gather each of the items to place back on the dresser, groaning when you see what disarray the surface is in.

A jewelry box lays on its side, the contents spilling out. You reach forward to right it, seeing that a picture frame has also fallen in the chaos and you fix that, too. Liquid pools around the bottom of the picture frame and you frown, eyebrows knitting together in concern as you try to locate the source of the liquid. You feel your throat constrict as you look to your left. A cracked vase lies on its side, two wilting, red roses sag haphazardly in the spilled liquid as collateral damage.

#caleb x mc #caleb x you #caleb x reader smut #incubus!caleb #love and deespace smut #lads #love and deespace #love and deepspace caleb #caleb xia #lnds caleb #caleb love and deepspace #caleb lads #caleb x reader #caleb smut

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wandixx · 1 month ago

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Spearmint (or platonic) prompt/idea

Sorry if it's messy, my brain is freaking scrambled lately

Freshly dead Danny found portal to Mars in Ghost Zone. It was one good thing that came from him getting ghost powers, so he keeps visiting, invisible so he doesn't get caught.

He does get caught, of course, by one M'gann M'orzz. They become secret friends, but Danny tells her he's from Ghost Zone instead of saying he's from Amity Park. But they do get closer anyway, Danny smuggles to her some Earth media she didn't have access to before and takes revenge on people he caught being racist to her. M'gann answers all of his questions about Mars' culture and history and physics and all that, as best as she could (she didn't spent uncharacteristic amount of hours refreshing everything so she could answer, shut up) and teaches him some basics of shielding one's mind. They go flying together and hung out and bond.

They're besties, as much as they can be, when Phantom visits only once every few month and outside of that they have no way of communicating.

And then one day, about two Earth years after they first met, when Phantom shows up, M'gann isn't there.

He doesn't know that shortly after Miss Martian joins Justice League's covert Team, Young Justice.

He does learn about heroine's existence later, but doesn't realize it's his friend, because a) why would he, there are many martian girls and even if he knows that Miss Martian is Manhunter's niece, he has like hundred of them and b) there are probably more Martians who were obsessed with random sitcom from early 80's c) she is green. His friend very much wasn't. That was, like, a big thing.

M'gann doesn't even know to look for Phantom on Earth, though she does ask around for Ghost Zone in the beginning. For all her friend was clearly unhuman, he looked like Earthling, so they may know where he was from. Nobody did, because Ghost Zone is not a term people use for it, even if they somehow know it exists.

And then, by stroke of luck, they meet again. And for the life of me, I can't figure out how it could go.

#spearmint ship #danny fenton & m'gann m'orzz #danny fenton x m'gann m'orzz #their meeting is probably pretty angsty though #maybe during their last meeting on Mars M'gann already considered leaving #maybe even knew that if all went well she wouldn't be there next time Phantom would come around #so when it was time for goodbyes she sounded like she was going to war and didn't expect she'll make it back #and danny assumed it was just one of these days when something hit her more and made her more emotional and more fearful of abandonment #it happened sometimes #but then when he saw her again as an active hero on Earth he realized that she knew #she knew and she didn't tell him #and idk #i just thought I need other scenario for them to meet than Team and this came to me #it's been bouncing around in my head for few days now and I need it out so someone can talk with me about them #i'm so tired #but on the brighter note I think I'll be able to post new “count the freckles” soon; I just need to proof read it a bit #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #wandixx prompts #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part

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stevesgother · 11 days ago

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dad!steve harrington x mom!fem!reader cw: hospital setting, mentions of miscarriages

On a gloomy, overcast Saturday morning, nine weeks to the day that you found out about your pregnancy, you fall to your knees in the cramped kitchen of your shared apartment.

Steve hears your clattering from the other side of the room before he sees you, rushing to your aid once he does.

"Hey, woah, what's going on?" He rushes out in one big breath. Sweat has begun to prickle at your hairline, your temples– an awful cramping sensation burning through your lower belly.

"Something's not right," you grit with one hand white knuckling the vinyl countertop as your other plants firmly to the floor.

"Should I call 911?" Steve asks hurriedly. You really would love for him to stop panicking, but you know that's not realistic.

"No– ah! Too expensive," you reply, clutching your middle, "just– help me up."

The pain doesn't ease up even as Steve lowers you into the passenger seat of your Chevy Impala. Or as you dare to touch a hand between your legs only to find blood. Or as you're being admitted to Hawkins General Hospital for an emergency ultrasound and exam.

The sound of your name startles you, chirped from a bright-eyed, brunette ultrasound technician. It felt as though you and this woman– squirting gel onto your still mostly flat stomach and making peppy small talk– couldn't be more dissimilar.

"And how far along are you?" The woman asks, smacking a piece of spearmint gum between her perfect teeth.

Steve blurts, "Nine. Weeks. She's– nine weeks along. Today." Before you get any farther than opening your mouth to respond. His hand is gripping yours with an intensity you've never seen him wear before, not even in all the years you've had the pleasure of knowing him.

The technician nods, moves the transducer across your abdomen a few more times; suspiciously blank-faced. You wonder briefly if they're trained to be so expressionless.

"Okay!" She chirps, snapping off her gloves, "The doctor will be in with you shortly." And with that, she's out of the room just as quickly as she appeared.

"Well? What did you see?" Steve presses, almost accusatory.

"The obstetrician on call will go over the results with you." She reassures in a generic tone, like she's said it hundreds of times.

The only sounds in the sterile room for the next several minutes are the beeping of various machines, and the hushed whispers of worried conversations between you and Steve.

"Steve–" you breathe, "what if–"

"No," he cuts off your spiraling at its source, "let's just wait to see what the doctor says. Something like this happened to my older sister when she was pregnant with my niece, it ended up being nothing. Okay?"

"Okay," you reply, but your breath trembles on its way to push the words out.

A noticeably older woman enters the room a handful of minutes later. The obstetrician.

"I'd ask how we're doing, but I think I already know the answer to that." Doctor Richardson-- as per the badge on her hip– says with a sympathetic wince.

"I'm Doctor Richardson," she continues, "what brings you in today?"

So, you tell her. About the intense cramping and the collapsing in the kitchen and the blood in your underwear. How the pregnancy was unplanned, and how you'd been taking birth control when you conceived.

"Well, the good news is that you're not miscarrying."

The immediate relief you're flooded with makes everything else out of Doctor Richardson's mouth sound like it's being spoken underwater. You hope, for your sake and your child's, that Steve's listening better than you are.

You catch snippets of her spiel, phrases like 'subchorionic hemorrhage', 'not usually dangerous', 'larger than usual', 'prescribed bed rest', but it's all lost on you. Your baby is okay.

You're sent home with a pamphlet on your condition and your doctor's best wishes. In the car, Steve tells you about the shorthand notes he took on a loose napkin he found beside your hospital bed.

"She said it's relatively normal in early pregnancy, just that yours was a little bigger than usual. Which was what the bleeding and the cramping was all about." He informs you; eyes trained on the road.

"What's normal?" You ask, staring out the passenger side window, watching droplets of rain streak through the fogged-up glass.

Steve casts you a weary sidelong glance, "The sub-whatever, I can't pronounce it right. It's like, a hematoma on your uterine lining, she said."

"Oh."

His hand that's not on the steering wheel finds your knee, squeezes, "Hey. It's gonna be okay, honey. The baby's okay."

"I know," you say softly, rolling your head to look at him, "I'm just tired."

Steve's lip curls up in a gentle smile, "We'll get you nice and cozy in bed. I can make you some of that tea you like. Or I can read you a couple chapters of that book I'm reading."

"That sounds nice," you tell him, because it does. Steve makes even the most mundane sound wonderful and exhilarating.

In bed later, as Steve drifts sleepily beside you, eyes heavy from hours of reading and chatting, you press a warm hand to your belly and try to channel every ounce of your love to the life growing in there.

divider credit to @/enchantingthings-a

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thanksbutno98 · 6 months ago

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How Time Flies

John Price x wife!reader OC

Summary: John Price is forced to deal with Simon Riley’s wrath regarding John’s son.

Warnings: sexual themes, talks of marriage, swearing, pregnancy, not edited

——————

“Slow down, darling.” John’s voice came from somewhere over your shoulder but you ignored him.

The warm glow of the summer sun was beginning to pick up as the morning faded into afternoon. Cinnamon and fresh fruit floated in the air as the pies you baked cooled on the windowsills. One was blueberry which was your husband, John Price’s, favorite while the other was a classic apple, which was your son’s.

“They’re gonna be here any minute. I wanna get this done so when we start grilling I don’t have to worry about it.” Shooting John a smile over your shoulder you did a double take.

Some days you were so busy you forgot to admire the man you had spent your life with. It had been so long you started to wonder where time had gone. The hairs on his head and beard had sprouted grey daring to take over take the brown. John liked to call it the only ‘invasion’ that he was incapable of stopping.

The wrinkles by his eyes and forehead stopped setting in long ago. If you recalled it was the day he retired from active duty. He referred to it as chaining himself to a desk but you knew his body appreciated the lack of abuse it took in his younger years. You appreciated it greatly because work no longer abducted him at a moments notice. The pain and worry had finally left regarding his job. Now all you worried about was him getting into a fight over road rage or someone gawking at you or your daughters.

John looked so handsome now middle aged in his blue jeans and olive button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You thought in retirement he would let himself go a little. Finally allow a layer of fat to coat his once rugged body, but he didn’t. Now he hit the gym religiously on base and was just as in shape as when he was the young Luitenant you fell in love with. You asked him why and muttered something about not being a spring chicken anymore.

“Think you’ll ever slow down?” John was on you now.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, bearded face nuzzled into your neck. He laid sensual kisses along the exposed skin. Hot spearmint breath and woodsy cologne invaded your sense, drowning out the baked good. You could feel the smirk against your skin as he lightly sunk his pearly whites into your shoulder. It made an electric shiver run up your spine. One that usually ended with you feeling like a live wire when John was done with you.

“Think we have time before they get here?” John purred into your ear, tongue darting out and licking just behind your ear lobe. The tingling sensation had you begin to nod your head, ready to turn in John’s muscular arms and have him carry you upstairs.

“Jesus, do you two ever keep your hands to yourself? Thought old age would make you stop.” Your son’s voice came from behind you and John.

John let go of you and turned to see his fully grown son standing at the open back door. Jj still to this day looked so much like John but not nearly as much as when he was a child. Only the young man decided to forego the facial hair and stay clean shaven, today he had stubble.

Jj was tall like John with broad shoulders and an athletic physique. Only Jj stopped worrying about being toned long ago and was a tad bit stockier than John, but there sure as hell were rock hard muscles under the bit of soft fat. As much as Jj looked like John his eyes were bright like yours and little bits of you sparkled through when he wasn’t being so serious like he had become.

“Your mums not old.” The way John spoke you could hear a warning hidden in his words.

You were sensitive about getting older and John knew that. He claimed you looked younger than your actual age, like you always had. Even your friends told you the same, jealous of how time seemed kinder to you. Your children had made a few comments, joking they all hoped to age like you instead of John. But John told you there was beauty in you aging, because he had a front row seat to see how spending your lives together left behind the evidence on your skin. And it made him love you more. Those laugh lines and creases by your eyes were from the smiles and joy you shared together as husband and wife.

“Right, you’re the only old one here.” Jj joked, his stoic demeanor dropping as he seemed to settle into visiting home.

“Smells good, mum.” The compliment made you smile, pushing the charcuterie board you set out towards your grown son.

Your son had become much more stoic and serious with years in the military under his belt. He always thought he would be a sniper like John but had found he was incredible at interrogations. Gaz had gotten him into it and Jj never looked back. Since he was a boy Jj was able to walk into a room and take the temperature of it in seconds. This roll in the military played to his intuitive strengths and ability to read people better than you and John could. It made your ability to have people open up seem sub par at times.

“Wheres the soon to be wife?” John asked playfully, pulling out two beers.

“Funny dad, I don’t know if she wants the whole marriage thing. But she’s coming with her parents. I assume you’re cooking up a feast like usual mum?” Jj grabbed the beer, ate some cured meat, and gave his father a playful shove as John patted his back.

The shove turned into the two trying to get the other one in a headlock. It brought back memories of John rough housing with Jj as he grew up. John always won back then but now you watched as he struggled a lot more. Jj had a cocky smirk and was egging John on by calling him an old man. That seemed to rile John up enough he stopped holding back and man handled Jj into a headlock.

“Fuck, okay okay, you win.” Jj croaked out when John started adding pressure.

“That’s what I thought.” John shoved Jj forward, the two laughing and licking their wounds.

Jj was rubbing his sore neck and rolling his shoulders back. While John massaged his lower back which you knew he’d be asking you to do later. He would claim he ‘over did it’ but it was just his way of getting a back rub. Sometimes John played up the ‘old man’ act to get you to baby him which you found endearing.

“Making all the favorites. She requested dates of all things.” You looked to Jj silently asking what that was about. The two of you continued to snack and sip your drinks as you caught up.

“Yeah, apparently it’s good at this point. Not sure why but I bet she’d tell you all about it.” With a shrug Jj moved on and started to chat with John about football.

Having any of your kids home left you and John beaming. Nowadays it was rare to get you all together when it wasn’t a holiday. Evelyn was constantly busy with her work schedule, Lily was in culinary school, and Jj was deployed a lot more than you liked.

Today you would all be together and you and John had been chatting about it for a week now. John saw Jj more than you did because they would grab lunch on base or workout together. Lily stopped by a lot, she wasn’t a fan of having roommates and looked for guidance a lot more than her siblings ever did. Evelyn on the other hand was off living her life and you saw her the least. She made the effort to call but having become a doctor at her local ER she had a lot on her plate.

“And look at that they’re here before your sisters.” John pointed to the familiar black truck that just parked behind Jj’s navy SUV.

“Go make sure they don’t need anything Jj.” With a shared smile Jj finally came over and gave you a quick kiss to the cheek and a side hug.

“Don’t let him kill me.” Jj whispered to you so John couldn’t hear.

You gave him a reassuring nod and wink. You loved that even being a grown man didn’t stop Jj from asking for your protection. He had called you the previous night expressing his anxieties and concerns about today. This relationship of his was a shock to everyone. When you found out his girlfriend’s father did not approve of your son you weren’t sure if you were surprised. Which you could understand with the current development.

Jj disappeared out the back and was soon back carrying a purse and wrapped gift. His girlfriend was in tow with a charming smile just like her mother’s and clearly telling Jj to go do something. It was new seeing Jj with a partner, you were use to him avoiding relationships unlike his sisters. He was commonly alone at holidays or at parties while Evelyn had been with her fiancé for years and Lily had a string of girlfriends.

The young woman Jj had been dating was dressed in light blue jean overalls with a sage green t-shirt underneath and cute white sneakers. Her light brown wavy hair was tied back in a low ponytail with a cute gold clip pinning back her bangs. Those bright green eyes of hers were still the most noticeable feature until you looked down at the prominent bump that had been growing for six months now.

“Mel! How are you doing?” You were so happy to see the soon to be mother of your first grandchild.

The way you waved her into the house and immediately pulled out coconut water that she requested had her nerves calming. Your welcoming nature made it easy to feel close to you and desire a connection.

“Hey, Indy. I’m doing great. Not to sure how my dad’s doing though. Mums trying to convince him to get out of the truck.” She had a melodic way of speaking that truly did her name justice.

“Melody, where did you say to put this?” Jj asked, lightly shaking the gift box by his ear to figure out what it was.

You swore you saw flashes of that little ten year old. Seeing your son as a grown mad about to be a father had been playing tricks on you. The memories of raising him were invading your mind at all times now. It had you and John reminiscing about when you became parents and how time flies.

“It’s Uncle John’s birthday present since we missed his party.” Mel motioned for Jj to give it to his father only he gave Mel a grossed out look.

“Can you not call him Uncle John. It makes it sound like we’re related.” With a grossed out tone Jj then looked around the room looking for backup.

“She’s been calling me Uncle John since before you were toilet trained. So no.” John snagged the present from his son and then gave Mel a hug.

“Thank you.” Taking the gift John placed it on the kitchen island.

“Look who finally decided to join us.” With a large smile you watched as Mel’s mother came through the back door with her looming shadow of a husband behind her.

“Nice to see you Dove-“ John gave the woman he’d known for so long a friendly wave and she did the same. They served together in the military which was a large reason why John had become close friends with her over two decades ago.

“Simon, how you doin’ mate?” John raised his beer and gave the hulking man a friendly smirk.

Ghost was living up to his name in this moment. In his dark jeans and black cotton t-shirt his presence chased away the summer sun. The room seemed to dim with the rolling storm clouds that seemed to follow him. Simon’s eyebrows were knit and lips fixed in a firm line. His eyes were fixed on Jj who was drinking his beer and avoiding making eye contact by offering Mel some food. She was batting his efforts away whispering that she couldn’t eat that.

“Pissed off.” Simon Riley spoke with a rumbling growl through gritted teeth.

“Quit it! You promised to be nice.” Dove swatted his shoulder but it did nothing to stop the murderous stare he had set on your son.

No part of Simon was okay with Jj Price having been the man to get his oldest daughter pregnant. Simon did promise to be civil but now seeing the man who did this set his teeth on edge. It was the first time seeing Jj since Mel told her parents the news.

“I will once this twat stops dragging his feet and proposes.” Simon’s comment had everyone in the room prickling up. He brought suffocating atmosphere.

“Watch it.” You quickly snapped.

“Oi, down boy.” John tried out firm humor.

“Simon!” Dove gasped and pinched his side.

“What!? Fuckin’ lucky I don’t drown you in the bloody pond for putting your grubby hands on my daughter.” Dove grabbed Simon before he could stand nose to nose with Jj who seemed unimpressed.

“You’re hilarious dad.” Mel rolled her eyes at Simon’s rude remark and gave Jj an annoyed look.

You noticed how she stood close to Jj and positioned herself in a way that Simon would have to go through her to get to your son. It was subtle but purposeful.

Jj stayed silent not wanting to piss off Ghost more than he already had. Since Mel told her parents she was pregnant Simon had been irate since she hadn’t told them she was even in a relationship. Mel had also waited until it was impossible to keep it to herself anymore and Dove dragged it out of her once she started to show. So this was still fresh news to the Riley’s, having only known for a week.

“Hilarious? What’s fucking funny?” Simon challenged his oldest daughter.

“You and mum weren’t married when she got pregnant with Fae! And you can’t even lie about it because I was five and remember you two getting married. Also, mum wasn’t even married to Peter when she had me so if you wanna lecture anyone, lecture your wife.” The harsh response had the room falling silent.

It was an awkward tension watching Mel air out her parents dirty laundry. You all knew the details but no one expected Dove to get thrown under the bus. Dove seemed to take it on the chin and waved her hand softly for Mel to calm down. A look in her mother’s eyes that reassured those who could see her that Dove had things handled.

“Mel, wanna go for a walk?” Jj was already walking for the back door not waiting for her response. It didn’t go unnoticed how Jj’s hand slid across Mel’s lower back and guided her with him.

Jj tried to walk around Simon but he stepped in the way squaring up to him. Jj tried not to come off aggressive but he wasn’t about to back down while Simon was a guest in this house. The two men stared at one another neither looking scared of the other. Jj wore a blank expression while Simons rage was painted on his face.

“Stop being a brute.” Mel lightly pushed Simon out of the way, grabbed Jj’s hand and pulled him out the back door.

There was a beat of silence as all around watched the two walk hand in hand towards the pond down the hill.

“See what you’ve done. You’re pushing her away.” Dove threw her hands in the air and turned on Simon with her finger in his face.

“You’re not allowed to be against me on this.” Simon snapped at his wife.

Dove knew he was desperate for anyone to be as angry as him but she wasn’t. Quite frankly she was excited to be a grandmother and supported her daughter in the choices she was making.

“I think everyone’s against you on this, mate.” John tried to be sympathetic but Simon rounded on him.

“Yeah? And what if Tommy knocked up one of your girls?” The crude remark had you and Dove letting out shocked gasps.

No one was expecting Simon to bring his own son into the argument as an example. Let alone talk about him being involved with your daughters.

“You’re being a dick!” You hissed but John was already stepping up to Simon, a wave of aggression rolling off of him.

“Well, my girl’s wouldn’t look twice at your boy.” John barked back, now standing with his chest puffed out.

“Okay, I think you need to go sit in the car.” Dove was in between the men who looked like they were about to throw punches. She looked tired from having to deal with Simons disapproval of the situation.

“Fine, I didn’t want to come in anyway.” Simon half shouted as he stomped his way to his truck.

“God, he’s a piece of work.” You were exasperated watching the hulking man slam the door of his truck so loud you were surprised the window didn’t shatter.

“You have no idea. He’s been pissy beyond belief at home. Can’t wrap his head around how he didn’t know they were dating or that Mel had been pregnant for so long. . . I mean, I’m surprised at how well she hid it too.” Dove took the beer John was offering her and gulped down two large swigs.

“Were they dating?” You asked feeling John pinch your bum at the question. He was shaking his head at you to not go down this path.

You had brought this up to John a few times and he kept shooting you down. Telling you to believe what your son told you and stop being skeptical. He even went as far to ask if you thought Jj was a lair. So you stopped bringing it up and only discussed your excitement to be grandparents.

“Jj won’t fess up either?” Dove asked ignoring how John was looking between you two as if you were crazy for taking about this.

John thought gossiping like this was beneath all of you. It shocked him to hear you behaving like this. His son was a grown man and none of you should be weighing in on his choices unless he asked for that. But that didn’t seem to be stopping you and Dove.

“Think they were just a fling if I’m honest.” It was a crass comment but Dove was shaking her head in agreement.

“Oi, those are our children. We should not be-“ putting her hand up Dove cut John off. She had run out of patience and didn’t feel like sugar coating the way she spoke.

“Join Simon in the truck if you’re going to be like this.” Pointing to the window John’s expression turned angry to be bossed around by someone who wasn’t you. Dove was at the end of her rope with irritable men and was fine being short with John.

“Agreed. There’s no judgement we’re just comparing notes.” You shrugged and then dramatically waved your arm towards the back door.

“Bloody ridiculous.” John snatched his present off the counter knowing it was an expensive bottle of alcohol and then grabbed two glasses.

“Such babies.” Dove sarcastically said before you jumped into figuring out the timeline of Mel and Jj’s relationship.

John wanted to slam the back door but he had spent way too much money on it to break it now. Stepping out on to the patio John could see Mel and Jj sitting on the dock down by the pond. He wondered what they were talking about and if Dove knew anything more than you did. Part of him wished he stayed to find out more but he couldn’t get himself to participate in good conscience.

Taking his attention off his son John looked over to see Simon sitting in his truck staring straight forward like a man possessed. John took a look at the present wrapped in red polka dot paper and then walked over to the truck. Simon tried to ignore John but eventually looked over at Price who was waving the gift and shaking two glasses at him.

It took Simon a moment to contemplate what to do but he knew that was an expensive bottle of bourbon. Mel had asked what John liked and Simon recalled him complimenting his bourbon last time he was over. So, Simon emerged from his truck and followed Price to the front of the house where they silently sat on the front porch and shared a drink.

Simon was the one to break the since. The wind chime on the front porch blew in the breeze, light chimes carrying with the wind.

“Your boy better step up.” Simon had his eyes fixed straight ahead and the glass to his lips.

His breath fogged the crystal, tilting his head back Simon drank the contents in one go with no reaction. He then poured himself another glass to sip on. It was going to take a lot of liquor to deal with everything going on. Simon didn’t normally speak to Price like this but his anger was at an all time high.

Mel was Simons little girl. She may not be biologically his daughter and he hadn’t met her until she was three but she was his daughter in all the ways that mattered. Simon would always see Mel as his first little girl, she had made him a father all those years ago when she struggled with her biological dad’s rejection. Simon was the man who stayed, who chose to raise her out of love not obligation. It was slow and took years but by the time Mel was five she bounced between calling him Simon or dad. Still to this day she called him either and he didn’t mind.

Simon felt particularly protective of Mel. He’d watched what the rejection of her biological father did to her. How she had trouble trusting that someone could love her who wasn’t her mother. It was years until Mel had truly accepted Simon as her father and he signed those adoption papers. But still to this day Simon knew she struggled accepting she could be truly loved; even by him.

Her independence was how she coped with the deep seated issue. No one could tell her what to do or how to live her life. She was the one in charge and who chose who could be in her life. It left her ready to leave relationships quickly or avoid them all together. The few Simon witnessed were with men who were uninterested in commitment; just like Jj. It was painful watching his oldest daughter set herself up for heart break. She was hyper sensitive to abandonment and Simon would murder the Price boy if he abandoned his pregnant daughter.

Simon wasn’t sure Mel would be able to recover if that happened.

“He will. I think you know that.” John sighed as he took a large gulp of the bourbon.

“His call sign is Mag. Because of the amount of birds he’s fu-“ John cut Simon off with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t pretend he’s not doing what every other young man does. He’s perfectly respectful of Mel, she’s the only one.” It was hard for John to sit here and not bite Simon’s head off for the constant disrespect.

John understood where Simon was coming from, he truly did. If his daughter came home six months pregnant and the man who did it wasn’t planning on marrying her, John would become murderous. But being on the other side and knowing the kind of man Jj was, John felt he should be given the space to do the right thing. Because John knew he raised Jj to do the right thing.

“I wasn’t. Dove can attest to that. Just because you were a slag in your youth doesn’t mean every man was.” It was surprising to learn that about Simon.

John wasn’t sure why but he assumed Simon was sleeping around as a young man. It’s who John was so it didn’t surprise him when Jj was like that. Maybe his idea of being sexually active was skewed.

“He’s going to do right by Mel. Give him a chance.” John tried to reason with Simon.

“Didn’t even know they were friendly, let alone dating.” The shame Simon felt for not picking up on this was deep rooted.

He was suppose to see signs like this. Pick up on the little details. Was he losing his edge? Simon saw Jj most days, they’d been deployed together, served together, he was Jj’s commanding officer. Mel even visited Simon a few times on base while Jj was with him. Had they been together at that point? Were the others in his command aware Jj was sleeping with Simons daughter? Was the joke on him?

“Still can’t fuckin’ believe it. Never thought it’d be those two who wound up together.” Taking another sip of his drink silence fell over them.

Maybe Price was right. Would it be harmful to give the boy a chance to do the right thing? It would mean more to Melody if Jj did it on his own instead of at gunpoint. So Simon sat there and tried to calm himself, because Mel deserved to have agency in her life. Simon needed to let her do this because he raised her properly and he trusted her judgement.

“I really think Ghost is going to try and get me killed next deployment.” Jj was staring out over the pond he had grown up swimming in.

The wind swept across the navy water leaving ripples in its wake. Sitting under the clear sky and warm sun was leaving Jj face tingly as the beams pricked his skin. Mel wouldn’t admit but she was running hot more so nowadays. She glanced out of the corner of her eye making sure Jj wasn’t looking as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Her back ached sitting on the wooden dock but her swollen ankles felt better dipped into the cool water. She liked that Jj helped get her shoes off and then how he joined her after rolling his pants legs up.

Jj was starting to wonder what it would be like for his children and what kind of childhood they would have. It felt strange to even think he was starting a family. Jj hadn’t been in a committed relationship since right before boot camp. Now here he was, about to be a dad. A dad with the girl he had a major crush on since he was ten.

“He’s a man baby, he’ll get over it. Just needs to throw a tantrum first.” Mel nudged Jj with her shoulder and gave him a soft smile.

The smile faded as she watched him continue to stare out over the pond. Jj wasn’t a particularly open book so getting him to share his feelings had been like pulling teeth at times. It’s what drew Mel to him, she found that kind of mysteriousness attractive. She also tended to go for emotionally unavailable men and it probably had to do with her abandonment issues from her biological father but she chose to ignore the truth.

“You okay?” Lightly placing her hand on Jj’s broad shoulder she shook him to grab his attention.

“You know I had a huge crush on you when we were kids? But you were two years older than me so I didn’t think you knew I existed.” With furrowed brows Jj shared this not knowing where he was going with it.

“It was kinda hard not to notice you at school since all the girls were in love with you. But you had Rory, so I never thought of you like that.” Mel admitted wondering what Jj was getting at.

“Well, Rory was the last girl I dated seriously. I haven’t really thought about settling down. Ya’know I’m gone a lot.” Jj continued to look out over the pond but he could feel Mel’s soft gaze on him.

She was sweet and fiery. A no nonsense person at times and then an absolute riot. She was funny, playful, and guarded. Her quick wit and need for privacy were alluring to Jj. Mel had been this way since they were kids, it’s why his crush never faded, because she consistently stayed the same. Now she was just grown, more mature, but held all the same things that made Jj’s head spin. He couldn’t deny she had always been his dream girl but it was hard admitting something so vulnerable.

“I know.” She spoke softly but there was no malice which Jj assumed there would be.

He kept wondering why she was okay with him being so uncertain on their relationship. Little did he know Mel was familiar with abandonment and never trusted a man to stay. So when she found out she was pregnant Mel was ready to do it on her own from the start.

“Jj, I don’t want you to marry me. Me getting pregnant was an accident. I mean c’mon we were stupid one time and this happened.” Mel motioned to her belly which finally had Jj looking down at the growing bump.

“It was more than once.” Jj mumbled.

“Well, once without a condom.” The cheeky comment made Mel laugh.

The two of them had never thought about dating one another. Sleeping together happened once, spur of the moment. It was at one of those big start of summer parties the Price family commonly threw.

Mel and Jj hadn’t seen each other in years but there was a chemistry they couldn’t deny that night. So they snuck to Jj’s old bedroom while everyone was downstairs. After that they only ever slept together when they happened to run into one another. Then it was more common when Jj started to call her up when he was home from deployment. And one drunken night they didn’t use protection and now here they were. About to be parents.

Back then when things were only about sex it was easy; because things were inconsequential. Lust was the driving force. The sneaking around was exhilarating. If Ghost ever caught them he would’ve killed Jj. And there was something incredibly hot about sleeping with his commanding officers daughter. Jj didn’t know it would feel that way until one day Ghost was particularly foul and Jj was smirking to himself about how he had bedded that assholes daughter. It was gross and he felt guilty for feeling that way until Mel made a joke about it. Telling Jj it ‘serves him right’ and that Jj clearly deserved one of the Riley’s to make it up to him.

“You don’t want me to marry you?” Jj asked as he placed his hand on Mels protruding belly.

“Jj we’ve barely dated. We kinda live together. Marriage is a huge step. I don’t even know if we’ll get on like that. I mean c’mon, the rest of our lives is a long time. You don’t have to saddle yourself with me.” Now it was Mels turn to look over the pond and avoid Jj’s eyes.

“I want to give it a go. Be a good dad. Be good to you. Like you deserve. I’m not gonna leave you high and dry just because we aren’t married.” Jj’s admission made Mel smile softly.

“And I’m not saddling myself with you. Like I said, I’ve had a crush on you since I was ten. If anything it’s a dream come true.” Jj hated how corny he sounded. Sweet talk was usually something he did to get laid but he meant what he was saying now; which was strange.

“I know. You’re a good man like that. Your Uncle John’s son after all. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Mel spoke sweetly.

She wasn’t sure she could believe Jj. If Mel was honest she didn’t think she could believe any man. But if there was a man who was trustworthy and wouldn’t leave it would be Jj; she was sure of that. Now she had to wait and see if it was possible, if a man like that existed or if it was a fairytale like she told herself. Mel just hoped deep down Jj wouldn’t let her down.

“So, do we continue letting them all think we were secretly dating?” Finally smiling Jj slid his finger between Mel’s and brought her hand to his lips leaving a ghost like kiss.

“I’m pretty sure your mum sees right through our lie. My mum wants to believe me but I know she doesn’t.” With a sigh Mel looked down at her belly and smoothed her hand over the fabric of her overalls.

“My mums a witch, Im surprised she didn’t know from the start. I swear she can read minds.” Jj watched as Mel was about to respond but cut in.

“Also you gotta stop calling my parents aunt and uncle. People’ll think we’re cousins.” This had been a point Jj harped on and finally Mel shook her head in agreeance.

“Fine, if it means that much to you.” With an eye roll Mel started to get up but was struggling, her belly made her off balance.

Jj rocketed to his feet and helped her up. There was this strange pang in his chest whenever Mel looked the slightest bit uncomfortable. No matter how hard he tried to shove those feelings down they were sprouting like weeds. Knowing she had been without him and keeping the pregnancy a secret for five months made him incredibly guilty.

“This might be crazy but I think we should move in. Properly. So I can take care of you. I don’t want to miss anything when-“ Jj sighed and placed his hand on Mel’s belly again.

“They come.” Jj’s emotions were betraying him as his lip wobbled.

Being a father was a huge step. Hell, he didn’t even know Mel was pregnant until last month. Jj had been deployed after their drunken night together and Mel wanted to tell him in person. So she waited until he was home and told him the news last month.

Jj was shell shocked. He completely disassociated for a day or two, unable to process the news. Mel gave him the space and accepted she would be a single mom. But Jj didn’t keep her waiting long. He showed up at her flat with flowers and a game plan on how things could work. He asked her to be his girlfriend and that they start to figure out what they wanted to do. Jj had been staying at Mel’s flat since then to take care of her because he would never skip out on his duties as a man. That, and he was drawn to her, always had been.

This was a family he was creating with Mel. Nothing would stop him from providing and keeping them safe. The fact he would be a father was what fueled him every day now. He was already in love with who lay in Mels womb and he would dedicate his life to protecting them; and now her.

“You gonna cry tough guy?” Mel sniffled seeing the man she was starting to fall for get emotional for the first time in front of her.

“That gonna scare you off?” With a chuckle Jj wiped his damp eyes with the heel of his hand and did his best to straighten back up.

“Not at all. And it’s not crazy.” Mel fiddled with the hem of Jj’s shirt as they slowly came closer to one another like magnets being pulled together. It started slow and then snapped together all at once.

In a second Jj’s hand had laced through the hair at the nape of Mel’s neck and he kissed her with much deeper intention than he ever had. It was no longer lust between them. There was this tightness that took over Jj’s chest. Seeing Mel pregnant could suck the air out of his lungs and had him stumbling over himself like an idiot.

Pulling apart the two caught their breath for a moment. Love drunk smiles spread across their faces as they began to make plans to solidify their future together.

“So, you moving into my place or do I have to subject myself to your bachelor pad?” Mel teased which earned a deep chuckle from the boy she hardly knew who had turned into the man that would father her children.

“We could look for one. Make it ours instead of yours or mine.” Taking Mel’s hand Jj started to lead them back up to the house.

“I like that idea. Rent or buy?” Mel asked a bit of skip to her step.

“Buy. I’ve saved up a good amount. We’re starting a family and kids deserve space to grow and run around outside.” Jj spoke as he looked around the grounds where he spent his own childhood.

Memories of camping out in the tree house with Evelyn came to mind. How he use to feed the chickens. The endless games of football he played with his family. Jj spent so much time out here playing with his little sisters and his friends. In his mind this is what a good childhood looked like.

“I like that. I grew up in flat after flat until mum and Simon bought a house.” Mel slipped her hand out of Jj’s and wrapped herself around his muscular arm.

It made Jj smile to have someone to call his. He’d been fighting commitment all his adult life and although a relationship had been thrust upon him, he liked it. He’d liked Mel since he first saw her as a young boy. It was an innocent crush that persisted through the years and he finally acted on as an adult.

“Hello love birds.” Dove teased watching Jj and Mel walk through the back door looking absolutely smitten with one another.

“Jesus.” Jj felt slapped by the word ‘love’ which became painfully obvious to everyone by the way he smoothly slipped his arm out of Mel’s grip.

“You’re emotionally stunted.” Mel whispered to Jj who started to blush at the blatant call out. She was smiling devilishly seeing him squirm.

“Where’s Unc- I mean John?” Mel corrected herself which had you and Dove sharing a look.

“Front porch with your dad. Need me to grab them?” Dove asked and Mel nodded. Dove squeezed Mel’s cheeks before walking off to grab the men.

“Sooo, your mum really doesn’t know much.” You smiled at Mel and she instantly felt caught out.

Jj stiffened knowing that look of yours all to well. This was the part where you admitted to catching him in a lie ages ago. He hated when you did this and let him go on like he was getting away with something.

“What do you mean?” Mel tried to play innocent but Jj simply put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head in defeat. It was crazy to him that being a grown man now didn’t stop him from feeling like a little kid around you from time to time.

“She knows. I don’t know how she knows but she just does.” Jj told Mel but it was clear by her expression she didn’t believe him.

“It started last summer at the party didn’t it?” You spoke with hushed words so you didn’t out the twos secrets because it truly was no ones business; not even yours.

They were grown and you had no right to tell them what they should or shouldn’t do. You also never asked because they deserved privacy and you didn’t want to pry, even if you had your suspicions. If Jj wanted you to know he would’ve told you.

“How-“ Mels eyes were bugging out of her head while Jj just looked defeated and took a seat at the counter.

“I told you, she’s a witch.” Jj aggressively pointed to his head referencing his comment about you being a mind reader.

“I’m not a witch, I’m just your mother.” You lightly laughed at your son.

He’d been calling you that since he was seven. Although he was a grown man with a child on the way you always saw that little goofy boy. The one who cried his eyes out when Evelyn climbed on to the roof. Who would pick you flowers from your garden and leave the rose bush hacked to bits. Your little boy who use to eat sand and bounced off the walls of this very home like a rubber ball. He was your first, the child who made you a mom.

Now look at him, the same age you were when you had him.

“What else do you know?” Mel asked sitting next to Jj.

“You two were not dating. I’m not even sure you’re dating now. You might be able to convince your fathers but me and your mum are smarter than that.” Giving Mel a nod she pursed her lips realizing she wasn’t as slick as she thought she was.

“Better be telling me you just proposed.” Simon was the first to emerge in the kitchen looking slightly less angry.

Dove and John were right behind and went to stand next to their respective partners. Mel rolled her eyes at Simon still being so upset and Jj tried to push down the fear Ghost left him with. It was irrational because being grown and fully capable Jj was convinced he could take Ghost in a fight. But having know the man from the time Jj was a child made Simon feel larger than life at times.

“We’re going to start looking at homes to buy. We aren’t ready for marriage but we plan on doing this together.” Jj spoke with confidence.

John’s hand squeezed yours beneath the counter. You both didn’t know how your son was going to handle this. You knew he was a good man and would do right by Mel but weren’t sure if that meant supporting her from a distance or being an active part in her life. This was an absolute relief compared to the uncertainty you had been left with last week when Jj and Mel told you over dinner.

“That what you want Mel? Have a baby unmarried?” Whatever John and Simon talked about on the front porch seemed to help settle Simon down if only somewhat. He seemed to be putting in the effort to listen more than judge.

“I’m not ready to get married. This is all new between me and Jj. And there’s something else.” Mel looked to Jj who gulped and then shook his head for her to continue.

You and John shared a look wondering what else there could possibly be. Finding out you were going to be grandparents a lot sooner than expected was enough of a shock. There couldn’t possibly be anything more surprising than that.

“It’s not ‘a’ baby. It’s twins.”

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

@exhaustedpotat0 @glitterypirateduck @ivymarquis @crazymela @what-0-life @boredfairy4 @hihhasotherfixations @stephanswhxre @shanjisan @k4es @luvleywrites @kita03-0 @midwesternwitchery @aleynaleia @suckerforbassist @misshoneypaper @theaonlax @blackstar9005 @tooterbutt @havoc973 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @freshlemontea @cosmoscoffeee @sae1kie @ohworm-writes @ghostslittlegf @fanficwriterlover @arminarlertssword @faceache111 @azu21 @thirstyb-ches @nini-11-08 @sgtgarricks @kiki-is-hyperfixating @mayflysdie

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a99jazzybean · 20 days ago

Note

HELLOOO

i don't recall if i've popped a req in here , so disregard if i already have requested something from you

but i was thinking about your chance fic 'with a taste of your lips' and i was thinking ,,,

could we get a chance x gn!reader who has an oral fixation ? not even a sexual oral fixation , just likes to keep their mouth occupied a lot (chewing on things, rubbing things against their lips, etc) .

maybe the reader has a habit of rubbing whatever is in their hand against their lips , and this time just so happens to be chance's d20

just a little thought 🤭🤭

bonus; here's a silly <3

Love this idea! Thank you for the request! And the art is absolutely adorable!

I did add a bit that was inspired by this drabble from @juicyasstender that was inspired by With a Taste of Your Lips... Inspiration inception!

Just a Taste

synop: You have to keep your mouth occupied and find the closest object is your D20. When Chance abruptly leaves the room, you discover that he can feel what you do to his die body. With this newfound information, you decided to have some fun...

words: 4.7K

includes: chancexgn!reader, masturbation, fondling objects, thigh fucking, orgasm denial, dom!chance, reader has a "hole" and "sex"

a/n: Guys, I love this concept that the objects can feel when you interact with their object form! Also, this is smutty. No minors!

“Stop biting your nails, you’re gonna get yourself sick.” Your mother snatched your hand from your mouth.

“I can’t help it!” You whined.

It was true, you had a natural inclination to put whatever was in your hands to your mouth. Which in this case, happened to be your actual hand. When your mother released it back to you, you looked over your nails. Bitten down, almost bleeding. Even in your little childhood brain you knew this was likely a problem.

“I suppose we can try and find something to help.” Your mother sighed.

This issue probably came from your father, who also had issues with keeping things out of his mouth. Especially his fingers.

“How about gum, hmm?” She eyed the stand over the grocery store conveyor belt. “You’re old enough to have that, right?” She looked down at you.

You shrugged, pretty sure you had tried it once before.

“Yeah, you’re old enough.” She snatched a pack of bubblegum, adding it to the rest of the groceries.

When you exited the store, she handed you a piece. You popped it into your mouth and began chewing, finding the sensation quite satisfying. Thus, you had found at least one way to curb the need to comply with your oral fixation.

Almost two decades later, you sit at your home office. Back to old bad habits, fingers in your mouth. You had been forgetting to purchase gum with your groceries ever since you couldn’t leave the house. Seeing the stand at the checkout was always a visual reminder, one you no longer had to aid you. For now, you found yourself chewing at your nails, or fidgeting with a nearby object on your lips. The latter happened to be less dangerous to your unsuspecting fingers.

“You know, you’re gonna get sick if you keep doing that.” Mac sat in front of you as you typed away at their keyboard.

“You sound like my mom.” You said, pulling out your thumb and inspecting it. A ragged tip of your nail greeted you, the skin around it red. “Though, you’re probably right.”

“Phoenicia, could you add spearmint gum to the grocery list for the weekend?” You asked your phone.

“You got it!” She cheerily spoke, putting the item on your list.

While you wouldn’t have your oral aid for a few days, at least you remembered to add it this time.

For now, you would have to find something else to keep your mouth occupied. From your peripheral, you spotted your lucky D20. The object had witnessed its fair share of days dancing upon your lips. Occasionally receiving a nibble.

Shrugging your shoulders, you picked it up. Returning to your work on your computer you brought the die to your lips. Unaware of what exactly you were doing.

From the end of your desk, Chance sucked in a groan. Feeling your lips ghost over various parts of his body. Eyes narrowing, he sent a glare to Mac. Of course they had to point out your habit. Leading you to unconsciously teasing him.

Ever the people pleaser, Chance would never let you know how your actions affected him. He could only picture how embarrassed it would make you. Instead, he forced himself to suffer in silence. Watching as you brushed your lips over his die body, shivering with each touch.

Looking to your side, you spotted Chance hunched over behind his GM screen. Peeking over, you saw him looking up at you with a red face.

“S-sorry!” You sputtered. “I swear I wasn’t trying to see what you were working on…” You obviously lied.

“Mhmm, sure…” He held in a groan as you rubbed the die across your lips, feeling a kiss against his chest. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind during our next session. Your character is at what…” he glanced down at his notes, “17 hp?” He gave you a cheeky grin, glad that your discussion of G&G was distracting him from what you were doing to his body.

“Whaaaat??” You shuffled around your desk, looking for your character sheet. “Ah shit.”

There it was, “17/85 hp”. Ugh, you’d probably have to take healing potion if you were planning on not dying next session.

“If you hope to keep your mortal soul, I suggest not looking over the screen.” He teased.

Despite his mind’s attempts at pushing away the feelings moving though his body, you still were affecting the dice greatly. The red in his face growing darker and darker with each press of your lips to his body.

You spotted his flustered state, concern on your face.

“Is everything alright?” You turned back to him, die still pressed against your lips.

His eyes darted to your mouth, then to your eyes.

“Uh, yeah.” He choked out.

This was beginning to become unbearable. Then, of course you just had to do it. That one habit of yours that had him going absolutely insane. With just the smallest amount of teeth, you nibbled on the 19 side. Chance let out an audible groan as he felt your teeth graze the sweet spot in the crook of his neck.

“You sure you’re good?” You pulled the die from your mouth, setting it on the table. Reaching for Chance, you placed a hand on his forehead. His skin felt extremely hot to the touch.

“I-I’m fine! Really!” He brushed your hand away.

“Your head is really hot. You sure you’re not sick?” Worry, furrowed your brow.

“Us objects can’t get sick, heh.” He brushed you off again.

“If you say so…” You left it at that, returning to concentrating on your computer.

The die was back to your mouth.

No, no, no, not that side! Chance practically melted into a puddle as your lips pressed to his seven side. Feeling a soft warmth press right against his rock-hard crotch.

Suddenly, the man shot up. The red still burning against his cheeks. You and the other objects gave him a concerned look.

“Ah, um, if you’ll excuse me!” As nonchalantly as possible, he cupped his hands over his crotch, then shuffled off into whatever space he lived in, one that you had yet to see.

In his little home, Chance rubbed a hand down his face with a groan. How much more of this would he be able to take? Sure, he managed when you didn’t know of his living existence. He was easily able to run off and take care of himself. Now, with you being able to see him, it was significantly more difficult to hide. However, admitting what you do to him? Oh, he absolutely could not handle the embarrassment that would bring you.

For now, he would have to manage it the only way he knew how: jacking off when you weren’t looking.

Sitting down with thud, Chance cupped himself over his pants. Giving himself a tight squeeze, he let out a satisfied moan. Pulling down his pants and boxers, his hard cock flopped out against his stomach. Gripping himself tightly, he began to pump at his length. His thumb brushing over the underside of his reddened tip.

As he ran his fist up and down he thought about you. About your lips on him. Ones that he could still feel right now. You pressed the six side to your mouth. A kiss pressed against his thigh, making him moan. Then you slid the die to the seven, making his cock jump. Fuck. Precum beaded at the tip of his cock as he felt your lips on him.

The mixture of your mouth and his hand would have him cumming in no time.

Then, there it was again, your teeth nibbling on the die. This time on the 12 down his chest. As you moved the die along your lips, you pressed against his lower stomach.

With you no longer being around, Chance let himself be loud. Moaning and praising your actions as you made him near his climax. Each pump of his cock emphasized the feeling of your mouth on his body.

A final press of your lips to the seven was his undoing. His balls tightening, then long strands of cum bursting out of him. Coating his hand with warmth as he continued to overstimulate himself with more pumps.

“Ah, ah, fuck. You feel so fucking good.” He moaned out. If only you knew…

As you sat unaware in your office, Mac snickered knowingly. Turning away from where Chance had run off to, you gave them a confused look.

“What’s so funny?” You asked.

“Oh nothing…” They trailed, eyes dropping to the die at your lips.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Your eyes narrowed. “Spill.”

“Aww, but you’re so fun to tease.” Mac leaned their hands on their knees, cocking their head playfully.

Narrowing your eyes further, the computer conceded with a sigh.

“You know we can feel you interacting with the objects, right? It’s not like I’ve gushed over your double-clicking or anything…”

“Yeah, I thought that was obvious.” You said, unsure of where this was going.

Mac coughed into their hand, motioning at the object pressed against your mouth. Eyes widening, you removed the die. Placing it down and lifting up your hands as if it were something extremely delicate.

“You mean…” You sucked in a harsh breath, eyes wide. “He, he felt…”

“Everything.” Mac finished for you.

“Oh. Oh no.” Your eyes were filled with horror at the realization.

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about it.” Mac waved you off.

“Why shouldn't I worry? I’ve been mouthing at Chance without even knowing!” You groaned, making your head fall into your hands.

“Why do you think he hasn’t told you?” Mac gave you a pointed look.

Peeking through your fingers, your eyes widened again. That’s right, he hadn’t ever told you. This wasn’t a habit of yours that just began, you had been doing it for years. Yet, Chance, not even once, had told you.

“He likes it?”

“I mean, all of us kinda do…” Mac trailed. “However, Chance has been one of the luckier ones you tend to play with.”

“What am I supposed to do now that I know this?” You asked, voice cracking.

Inside you were filled with a weird mixture of embarrassment and intrigue. On the one hand, you had literally been kissing and nibbling on Chance’s body this entire time. On the other hand, Chance had never said anything about it. Which could mean that he liked it, or he could be absolutely mortified about it.

Thinking on it though, you remembered his state earlier. Red in the face and stuttering. It didn’t seem like the embarrassed kind. More like the flustered kind. Then there was the fact that he had run away. Run away while covering his crotch… Oh god… He liked it!

A lightbulb went off in your head, and a mischievous grin grew on your face. One that Mac caught. They quirked a brow, wondering where your head was at.

“Care to share your thoughts? You’re giving me that look you get when you come up with something new for a self-insert fic.”

“Oh, I have some ideas…” You chuckled to yourself.

Chance had always interested you. He was one of the very first items you came across when you first received the Dateviators. At first sight, you were pretty much smitten. The personified D20 charming you immediately. It didn’t help that he was quite the flirt, especially when he was in his GM mode.

Having the knowledge that you were able to affect him in such a way, well that was a fun surprise to say the least. A surprise that you would be taking advantage of.

You glanced at the calendar on your computer, letting out an amused huff. In just two days, you would have your next session with Chance. A session that you will be enjoying greatly.

When Chance returned to the office, you had already left. While part of him was disappointed, another part of him let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know if he could face you after what he had just done. Little did he know, you were about to make things worse for him.

For the next two days you decided to make sure you were right about your suspicions regarding Chance. Continuing to play with his die by your lips whenever you were in the office. Testing out different ways to mess with your favorite D20.

With each press of your lips to the die, you watched him out of your peripheral vision. Every time he felt your mouth on him, his face grew red and his breathing grew labored. He did his best to hold himself together, but found himself running off to take care of himself before things got too bad. If you continued to mouth him like that, he surely would cum in his pants. While his condition was certainly embarrassing, he could not be seen doing that.

Every reaction you gained from him, you catalogued in your mind. Making sure you knew exactly what got him going.

From your observations, you found that each side of his die resulted in a response from a different part of his body. You noted that the seven and eight elicited more intriguing results.

Soon enough, the day of your next G&G session arrived. Across the table you sat with a smirk. Looking at you over his screen, Chance raised a questioning brow.

“What are you looking so smug about?” He asked, fingers below his chin as he attempted to get a read on you.

“Oh nothing… I just know how I’m going to get my way this session.” You said, the smirk turning into a cheeky grin.

“Is that so?”

“It very much is.” Your finger messed with his die on the table.

You watched as he began to shuffle in his seat uncomfortably. Tracing around the six, you saw him shudder. The feeling of your finger stroking over his thigh, almost making him keen. He managed to hold himself back, a blush begging to bloom on his neck.

“R-right, we’ll see about that.” He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Anyways, shall we begin?”

“We shall!” You gave him a soft smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Instead, something else swirled in your irises. Something that had Chance shivering.

He cleared his throat again, then cracked his knuckles. Surely he could make it through his session, right?

Very quickly, you proved him wrong. The die brought to your lips as you concentrated on Chance’s storytelling.

“So, you’re currently fighting against a group of undead skeletons and a necromancer in the kingdom’s cemetery. Right now you are 17 health. It is your turn to go…”

As you looked over your character sheet, you pressed your lips to the die. An action that could be seen as wholly innocent, though the intentional placement of your lips was most certainly not. The 10 slid over your bottom lip, making Chance feel a kiss upon his lower belly. The feeling made him visibly shiver.

“Hmmm…” You moved the die to the six side. His thigh received the warm caress of your lips. “I think I’ll pop a healing potion for now.” You set the die down.

When you released your hold on the die, you swore you heard him sigh. This was torture for him. Blissful, sexy torture, but torture nonetheless.

“Okay, roll your two D4 please.”

You rolled the dice, earning you five points of health back. When you finished your roll, Chance’s D20 returned to your mouth. The man let out a huff at the feeling.

Looking at him, you caught his gaze. Pupils blown out, mouth slightly hung open as if he was trying to catch his breath. Just a dusting of red on his cheeks as he held himself back. Catching your gaze, Chance was taken aback. There was a knowing look in your eyes.

He watched as his die moved over your lips. Then, your fingers twisted it around. The seven side now pressed to them. Keeping eye contact, you added more pressure. Kissing the die deliberately.

Chance let out a soft grunt, doing his best not to moan out as you mouthed at the die equivalent of his dick. Then, you were mean. Tongue lightly flicking out against the number.

There it was in your eyes, that mischievous, knowing look. One that had a smirk written on your face as you toyed with the die.

You knew! You fucking knew!

As if your tongue wasn’t enough, you moved the die again. This time nibbling on the 19. You watched with amusement at Chance lifted his neck to the feeling of your teeth scraping along his throat. Then, you set the die back down.

“Y-you,” Chance caught his breath, “you regain five points of health back.” He croaked.

“Awesome. I’d like to use my bonus action to prepare to dodge.” You said, that smirk still on your lips.

“Of course.” He did his best to regain his composure.

It was now the enemies’ turn, in more ways than one it seemed.

“One of the skeletons is going to attack you with its longswoooord, oh!” Your tongue was back on the seven. “It, it-” His face had gone bright red now.

“It what?” You pulled back the die, a small strand of saliva breaking away as you did so.

“It hits!” He gasped out as your tongue returned.

Why was he continuing to let this go on? He knew, oh he knew why. This was only something he could dream of. You knowingly teasing him. However, he knew it would become unbearable if he didn’t do something about it.

“You didn’t roll though, how did it hit?” You played coy with another cheeky grin.

“It just does.” He said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing as you returned to pressing the die against your lips.

“Does it, now?” You nipped at the five, the feeling of your teeth hitting the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh.

“F-fuck. Yes it does!” He slammed his hands on the table, pushing himself up.

As he lifted up, your eyes darted to the prominent bulge in his pants. The sight had your mouth watering. Oh, you could get used to this. Moving your gaze up, you shivered as you met Chance’s eyes. They were dark, filled with hunger.

His hands gripped at the table harshly. Fingernails biting into the wood as he tried to keep himself composed.

You didn’t stop messing with his die. Mouthing around various sides, just slightly avoiding the numbers that would stimulate his sex. A teasing smirk on your lips as you trailed the die along them.

That darkness in his eyes grew as he let out an audible groan. How much more could he take before he snapped? By now he had to be close to his boiling point. With his shivering body and labored breathing, he would crack soon.

Staring straight into his eyes, you flicked your tongue out on the seven. There it was, a spark of something even deeper in Chance’s eyes. Want.

With what little composure he had, Chance marched over to you. Your eyes trailed to his chest as you watched him inhale and release harsh breaths.

Giving him an innocent bat of your lashes, you looked up at him with a confused stare. Cocking your head to the side as you read the frustration on his face.

“Is something wrong?” You asked sweetly, pressing the die to your lips.

“Get up.” It wasn’t a question, it was a command.

“Why should I?” You decided to tease, see how far you could really push him.

“Because I’m not asking.” He placed a hand on the back of your chair, leaning his large frame over your body.

“Maybe you should.” You kissed the six of the die. “It’s polite.”

“Get up. Or I will make you.”

Oh. Well that was certainly new. Something that you were very interested in.

“As you wish.”

He moved away, letting you stand up. As soon as you were on your feet, the man walked you back. Pressing you against your office wall, making you let out a sharp gasp.

“What’s this all about?” You cocked your head with a coy smile.

“You and I know very well what ‘this’ is about.” He practically spat.

He was now nose to nose with you. Hot breaths fanning your face as he pinned you to the wall.

“What exactly am I supposed to ‘know’, Chance?”

The die in your hand returned to your lips. You gave it a little nip, watching with amusement as his eyes scrunched shut with a groan. Opening them, you were met with that deep look of want once more. It had you shivering.

“Care if I show you?” He asked lowly.

“Be my guest.” You feigned an air of confidence, but couldn’t help the slight waver in your voice. His dominating presence had you squirming.

Slowly, he leaned towards you. Lips puckered to kiss you. Fluttering your eyes shut, you leaned in. Only a low chuckle met you. Instead, Chance’s head turned to kiss up your jaw and down your neck. The featherlight kisses had you letting out soft whines.

When his mouth reached the crook of your neck, he gave you a soft bite. The feeling had you yelping, making Chance bite you again. This time, lightly scraping his teeth up your neck.

When he pulled away, he appraised his work. Dark marks now forming around your pulse point and sweet spots along the column of your throat. His thumb lightly brushed over one of the bruises as he let out a satisfied huff.

“Now, do you know what I’m talking about?” He leaned toward you with an amused hum. Loving the way you squirmed from his close proximity.

But he couldn’t win that easily.

“No, I don’t know.” You grinned at him, eyes sparkling teasingly.

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed your wrist. Holding up the hand that held his die in front of your face.

“Don’t try to play coy. I know you know.”

“You still have yet to tell me what I ‘know’, exactly.” You teased.

“Fine.” He let out a harsh breath. “I can play this game too, you know?” He released your hand.

His own warm hands slid up your body. Softly caressing you. Leaning in, he whispered into your ear.

“Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you want me to keep going…well…” He chuckled darkly. “You’ll see.”

“I won’t stop you.” You cocked your head to the side giving him a challenging stare.

With the dice in your hand you brought it to your lips, giving it a kiss on the seven side. You watched Chance shudder and groan at the feeling.

Suddenly, your hand was pinned to the wall.

“Do that again, see what happens.” He hissed through gritted teeth.

With surprising strength, Chance flipped you around. Shoving your chest into the wall. From behind, you felt him press against your body. The outline of his hard cock pushed against your ass.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” He breathed against your ear. “Do you know what it’s like?” He groaned, grinding himself against you.

“Know what, what’s like?” You asked quietly.

“What it’s like,” his hand slid down your torso and teased over your pants, “to be touched, but you can’t do anything about it.”

Gasping, you tried to cross your legs as he cupped over your sex. With his thigh, he pushed your legs apart. He tsked you with a click of his tongue.

“Nuh uh, you’re not running away from this.” His hand returned to playing with you over your pants. “After all, I couldn’t run away from you.”

“B-but you did. You always left the room.” You looked at him over your shoulder, shivering at the lustful gaze deep in his eyes.

“I certainly tried. But I couldn’t really escape you. Not your lips, not your kisses, your tongue, the biting.” He emphasized the final word with a bite to your shoulder.

“Ah, mmph!” You moaned as his hand continued to cup over you. Teasing you with light strokes and squeezes.

As he continued to touch you, you felt yourself growing more and more aroused. Needing some type of friction to assist you. However, Chance didn’t appear to care all too much. Enjoying the sounds of your whimpers and moans as you helplessly took what he gave you.

Pulling his hand back, you let out a whine. From behind you heard the shuffling of his pants. Chance let them hit the floor. Looking over your shoulder you moaned at the sight.

Chance stood there, his cock out and standing proud. His length, thick and delicious looking. Fuck, you needed it.

For a moment, Chance watched you. His hand wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping away. Beads of precum dripping down the shaft. The amused smirk on his face indicated how much he enjoyed watching you squirm.

“Chance…” You let out a groan.

“Yes?” His voice held a teasing lilt.

“Please…”

“Please what? Use your words.”

“Please just do something!” You whined, dropping your head in exasperation.

“I am doing something.” He groaned, gripping his dick tighter and pumping faster.

“You know what I mean!” You huffed in frustration.

“Do I? You didn’t seem to understand what I was telling you earlier.” He stopped touching himself.

Pressing his body against yours, he spoke into your ear.

“So tell me,” he purred, “What. Do. You. Know?” You felt his cock press into your backside.

“I know! I know that you can feel what happens to your die!” The time for teasing was over, you needed him, NOW.

“Was that so hard?” He chuckled, placing a soft kiss under your ear.

Quickly, Chance pulled down your pants and underwear. Warm hands grabbed at the swell of your ass, giving it a squeeze. One of his hands trailed between your legs, cupping your bare sex. The action had you jolting. Every part of your being was on fire from his teasing. Buzzing with an ever growing energy that you wished to dispel.

Pushing between your legs, you felt Chance’s thick cock. He groaned at the feel of your plush thighs squeezing around his length. The head of his cock brushed up against your awaiting hole, but he didn’t push in. No, instead he continued to fuck your thighs. Gripping them tightly as he thrust in and out. His cock just barely teasing your sex as it brushed past. You whined at the lack of friction, but the man behind you didn’t let up.

He moaned as he continued to fuck between your legs. Occasionally teasing your hole, but never entering you. A smug smirk on his face as you looked over your shoulder with a glare.

“Chance, please!” You cried out as he brushed up against your most sensitive parts. “I can’t take it. Please just fuck me!”

“No.” He said lowly as he continued to pummel himself between your legs.

He leaned over your shoulder, biting into it again.

“You’re gonna take me like a good little slut. Since you like teasing me like one. So, no whining or complaining.” He growled into your ear before nipping it lightly.

“I can’t take it!” You felt tears of desperation prick at your eyes.

“Yes you can.” He moaned, feeling his climax grow nearer.

“N-no! It’s too much! Please!” Your whimpers only spurred him on.

Forcing your hips back he fucked between your thighs over and over. Cock brushing up to your hole for the barest amount of friction.

With a final pump, he let out the lewdest moan. Cock spraying out ropes of cum, painting your thighs white. His arms wrapped around your middle as he shook with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

His lips pressed soft wet kisses up your throat. Warm hands caressed at your sides.

Slipping out of your thighs, he groaned lowly. Turning around, you saw the man red in the face. His chest heaving with labored breaths. Despite his tired state, he gave you a smirk.

He pulled up his pants and walked up to you. Gripping your chin, he brought your face to his. Softly, he pecked your lips. Giving you just a taste of him. He let you go, then turned to walk away. Throwing a cheeky grin over his shoulder, he spoke.

“Now you know how it feels.”

#a99jazzybean #date everything x reader #date everything #chance date everything #chance x reader #chance x you #D20xreader #date everything fanfic #chance date everything x reader

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gracie-eilish · 27 days ago

Text

more of an obsession...

gracie's birthday week, day one 🌺

warnings: smut

to say billie went all out for your birthday dinner would be an understatement.

roses, champagne, a private table on a private balcony overlooking the ocean… she opened your doors, pushed in your chair, fed you dessert, everything and anything to make you feel adored. and boy did you ever.

the two of you were now snuggled up in the back of a sleek, black SUV driven by one of billie’s trusted drivers. your head was slumped on her shoulder, legs across her lap, heels forgotten on the car floor… she had a hand on your calf and another snuck around your waist, keeping your tipsy self close to her.

you looked up at billie, in a lovesick daze, your smile growing when she felt your eyes and looked down at you.

“hi princess,” she cooed, with a twinge of mischief in her voice.

“hi billie.” your cheeks started to hurt from how hard you were smiling.

“you happy, mama?” she chuckled at your dopey grin. you just nodded in response, leaning up to kiss her cheek.

“this has been the best birthday ever bils, seriously. everything has been beyond my wildest dreams.”

she tightened her grip on your waist, bringing her other hand to cup your cheek, softly.

“good.” she kissed your nose. “that’s the only way you should feel on your birthday.”

you felt flushed and shy, as you nuzzled your face into her shoulder, making her giggle while she kissed the top of your head.

“you tired?” she muttered into your hair, her fingers tracing shapes on your back.

“mmm, not really to be honest.”

“mkay.” she replied, with a smirk, hand moving subtly to squeeze your thigh.

the driver slowly came to a stop, out front of your apartment building. as he cut the engine and circled the car, billie was slipping your heels back on for you “because you’re a princess.” carefully the driver helped billie out of the car, standing near for security. billie then turned around holding out her hand for you, helping you out as well.

billie held your hand tight as you both bid goodnight to her driver and made your way into the lobby and then to the elevator.

billie leaned back on the wall after pressing the button for your floor, her hand splayed out on your back as you leaned on her.

“billie?” you piped up.

“yeah mama?”

“can you kiss me?” you put on your best puppy eyes, making her giggle, her eyes turning to hearts.

“c’mere doll.”

she cradled your face with her free hand so delicately as she leaned in, closing the gap between you two. it wasn’t hungry or lustful (yet). it was soft and romantic and sweet. it tasted like cherry wine, and chocolate frosting, and the smallest bit like billie’s spearmint gum. she pulled away slowly, smirking when she saw you chase her lips instinctively, wanting more.

“m’so obsessed with you, pretty girl,” she whispered, rubbing your back fully now.

“god billie.” you bit your lip trying to hide your smile, resting your forehead on her collarbone.

“why are you so shy tonight, honey?” she giggled at your bashfulness. “jus’ me.” she tilted your head up with her finger under your chin.

“i dunno.. just.. tonight was like academy-award winner-romance-movie-level perfect. don’t get me wrong, you spoil me day in and day out… today was just like.. extra perfect,” you sighed dreamily. “and i had a LOT of wine. good god, what brand was that because it was so fucking good.”

billie let out a laugh, throwing her head back as the elevator dinged.

“oh, my girl,” she muttered, sighing happily. she threw an arm around your shoulder, threading your fingers together, as you two walked down the hall to your penthouse.

once billie had locked the door behind you two, she grabbed your hand before you could walk away, spinning you back into her chest, leaning down to kiss you once again.

“go upstairs to our room f’me. i’ve got one more present for you,” she whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth.

you opened your mouth to protest another gift but she simply hushed you with a finger to your lips.

“uh uh. you’re going to get spoiled on your birthday. now go upstairs pretty lady.”

you sighed smiling, before turning and heading upstairs. billie watched from the bottom of the staircase, blowing you a kiss when you turned around at the top, sensing her watching you. you just rolled your eyes and smiled, and went into your shared bedroom.

with a dreamy sigh, billie took a few minutes to put your flowers into a vase. she’d arrange them properly tomorrow, she just didn’t want them drying out overnight.

she shut off all the lights downstairs and locked the front door, and grabbed a kitchen towel, a bottle of champagne and two glasses before heading upstairs.

she found you cuddled up on top of the pillows and blankets, scrolling on your phone. you were still in your dress, but your heels were discarded on the floor.

she leaned on the doorframe, holding up the champagne.

“want some more?”

“is that even a question?”

she came around to her side of the bed, taking your hand and leading you to the balcony.

once outside, she placed the towel on top of the champagne cork and handed you the bottle. you watched as she set up her little vlog camera, so it was pointed at the two of you perfectly.

“ready?” she kissed your shoulder, setting her hands on your hips from behind.

you nodded, leaning back to kiss her cheek.

without too much spillage, you popped the champagne with a squeal, bringing the bottle to your lips to catch the little bit that did spill out. billie found the cork on the ground, setting it on the table.

you poured some into both glasses, setting the bottle down and handing billie a glass.

“cheers babygirl,” she whispered, more interested in your lips than a sip of champagne.

you clinked your glasses, and closed the gap between your lips. her hand snuck down to rest on your ass, squeezing the plush skin a bit, making you giggle into the kiss. you threaded your free hand into her hair, ruining the classy, messy bun she had in.

before you could drop it, billie expertly snagged your glass and set both of them on the table outside, steering you back towards your bed.

“you ready for some good old fashioned, birthday sex doll?” she purred into your ear, fiddling with the zipper on the back of your dress.

“fuck bils, please,” you pleaded, head leaning back and eyes closed.

she turned you around, leaving kisses to your neck and shoulder, as she tugged the zipper down, revealing the smooth skin of your back. you swore you heard her breath hitch when she pulled it all the way down, probably expecting a bra but finding nothing but bare skin.

from behind, she slowly moved the thin straps until they fell delicately off your shoulders, bringing your sparkly dress with it, pooling around your feet. you turned your head around slightly to look up at her. your eyes big and wide, feigning innocence, batting your lashes.

“fuck baby,” billie moaned, making you smirk.

god was she obsessed with you.

you turned around in her arms, bringing her down to kiss you again. the two of you unbuttoned her top and unbuckled her belt at the same time. you pushed her top off her shoulders, dragging your nails down her biceps, practically drooling over the muscles.

“like ‘em, doll face?” she flexed a bit under your fingers, teasingly.

“billie,” you whined, trying to suppress your shy smile.

“okay, okay. i’m sorry baby,” she pouted, helping you sit down and lay back on the bed. she took off her pants, leaving her in just her lacy underthings and tattoos, making you drool.

not as much however, as billie was drooling over you; completely bare except for your tiny, lacy thong, the color accentuating your skin tone perfectly.

“god you’re ethereal, you know that?” billie had a way of making even the most slutty, lust driven moments, feel warm and cozy.

“you make me feel like it,” you whispered, making billie melt down onto your body, her lips making contact with your neck, smiling into her kisses.

you brought your hand into her hair as you felt her sucking a mark onto your skin, encouraging her to continue. you closed your eyes and sighed, smiling softly.

this was bliss.

after painting your neck with hickies, she continued down the valley of your breasts, taking one of your nipples in her mouth, the other rolling between her fingers.

“oh god billie,” you moaned out, shivering at the pleasure.

she looked up at you through her lashes, still kissing and sucking around your nipple, now not daring to break eye contact. even when she switched from one to the other, she barely even blinked, not wanting to miss a thing.

without you noticing, she brought two fingers down to your clothed clit, moving in soft circles around the bundle of nerves. your hips bucked instinctively, and you gasped at the sudden addition of pleasure.

“feel good, birthday girl?” she purred, still not breaking eye contact.

“yes billie, fuck, so good,” you gasped out, letting your head fall back onto the pillow.

she sat up on her heels, scooting back to settle between your thighs. slowly and teasingly, she pulled your panties down your smooth thighs, eyes almost bugging out of her head at the sight of your dripping pussy.

“fucking christ,” she mumbled to herself, tossing the thong somewhere behind her.

“alright doll,” she moved to lay down on her stomach. “spread those legs for me, sexy.”

not waiting a single moment, she locked her arms around your thighs, spreading her hands over your tummy, and settling herself between your legs.

she licked a slow, long stripe up to your clit, making you let out a strangled moan. she licked her way between your folds a few times, before zeroing in on your clit, leaving kitten licks to the swollen bud.

“princess,” she mumbled.

“yeah?” you whined out, head thrown back.

“look at me, please,” she kissed your clit. “wanna see your pretty face.”

you obeyed slowly, pushing yourself to your elbows so you could see her.

“good girl,” she purred into your cunt, the vibrations making your thighs start to shake as you cried out.

“i know baby, i know.” you whimpered at her words, feeling yourself get closer and closer.

however, she didn’t fully stop out of nowhere. she slowed her movements down before pulling away completely, wiping your juices from her chin.

you looked at her with wide, puppy eyes.

“i know doll, almost there, i promise.” she moved from between your legs to lay on her back, taking off her thong.

she spread her legs before holding out her hands for you.

“c’mere baby,” she wiggled her fingers until you took them, getting the message.

shakily, you straddled her, both of you situating yourselves comfortably, before you sat down fully on her, clits bumping in perfect harmony.

both of you moaned out at the feeling, almost immediately moving.

billie brought her hands to your ass, helping you move your hips against hers.

the sound of skin touching, and squelching filled the air between the pornographic gasps and moans you two were letting out.

“fuck mama,” billie let her head fall back onto the pillow, her eyes never leaving your body though.

“you’re so perfect, fuck, god m’so in love with you,” she mumbled out.

however, she really started moaning only a second later, when she saw you start smiling at her praise, biting your lips and letting your head fall back, eyes closed.

you sped up the movements of your hips, effectively taking your pleasure from billie.

“ohhh good girl. riding me so fucking good angel, holy shit you’re so good.”

this was technically your present, but for every gift someone receives, a thank you note of sorts is a nice gesture right?… ;)

you untangled your fingers from billie’s hair, moving them up your stomach, literally feeling yourself, billie whimpered.

you traced your fingers up and around your breasts, teasing your nipples, before fully grabbing them, massaging the plush mounds together, gasping out in pleasure.

“fuck bils, fu-fuck m’so close,” you played with your nipples some more, as you felt billie move your hips even harder for you.

“cum for me love, please god cum for me,” she pleaded, needed you to cum more than herself.

you smirked, closing your eyes again as you let yourself go, feeling billie let go not long after you.

the bedroom became a haven of grabbing hands, and twitching thighs, and moans bouncing off the walls, both of you riding your highs out together.

soon you both stilled, catching your breath, tangled up together.

“baby,” you whispered, still a little whiney.

“i know princess, i know.” she brought her hand up to your neck, pulling you down softly kissing you once. then twice.. three times…. until you both were smiling too much to actually kiss.

careful not to overstimulate each other, you untangled your limbs and cuddled up to one another, skin to skin, listening to each others heartbeats.

billie traced shapes on your back while you melted into her chest.

“how ya feeling, honey?” she whispered after a while, kissing your forehead.

“absolutely perfect.” you were glowing, smiling big, eyes glazed over and soft. billie took a mental picture to remember how beautiful you look right now, forever. then she got an idea, quickly getting up from the bed making you giggle. she returned sheepishly, carrying her beloved little camera.

she got situated back against the pillows again, making sure you were comfy, before she held up her camera, taking a few photos of the two of you cuddled up; smiling, flushed, completely fucked out, not even trying to cover your naked bodies. she moved over to let you lay down on your stomach, hiding a bit of your face, she snapped a few photos of just you, watching you get shy again.

she glances at the viewfinder, waiting until the last photo she took disappeared into the cameras memory, before looking up softly at you.

“c’mere,” she whispered, taking you in her arms, tracing her fingers up and down your arm and back.

“did you have a good birthday, lovey?” she pecked your hairline a few times, feeling you melt further into her arms.

“the best,” you leaned back a bit to look at her. “thank you for making it so perfect billie. seriously, today has been perfect.”

“you’re so so welcome angel. you deserve to feel like this everyday of your whole life. and i’m gonna make sure of that, kay?”

you giggled, feeling shy and giddy, nodding your head and smiling.

“god i’m so obsessed with you,” she smiled softly. you smiled back up at her…

“i know.”

;)

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goodeapple · 11 months ago

Text

dry clean only (modern hotd pwp, jace x sister!oc x luke)

pairing : Jacaerys x Ysilla (sister!OC) x Lucerys

warnings : MDNI. jesus where do i start... this is filthyyyyy. PWP, threesome, sibling incest, rimming, anal, DP, slight coercion, sibling incest, accidental voyeurism, unprotected intercourse, breeding kink (ofc), & did i mention sibling incest?

word count : 4,000+

note : i kind of lost my marbles with this one... brain drove straight to Hornyville and set up camp. in the nicest way, if u don't like, don't read <3

Laundry day. Fucking laundry day.

“Laundry day.” Ysilla had said when Jace stopped her in the hallway, and she shrugged before heading towards her room. So simple, so nonchalant, as if it were normal for her to parade around in nothing but one of his t-shirts. He lasts a solid forty minutes- a new record- before he pauses his game, and yells into the nearly empty house.

“Sil! Get in here!”

She takes her sweet time, minutes passing until she appears in his open doorway, propping her hip up on the jam. “You rang?”

Jace bristles at her nonchalance, bouncing his knee anxiously, still sitting in his gaming chair.

“You doin’ that on purpose, Silli?” He waves a hand in her direction, a sweep from the tips of her white pedicured toes to the spirals of her midnight curls.

His sister finishes texting, before at last giving over her attention.

Ysilla bats her feather duster lashes at him, all doe eyes and a pouty pink mouth. “Course not, I told you. Got nothing else that’s clean.”

“I find that hard to believe…” Jace grumbles. She swipes their mum’s Amex like it’s going out of style. Her wardrobe looks like a Christmastime department store.

“You don’t like that I’m wearing your clothes?” She asks, plucking at the hem of his shirt, pulling the thin material tight over her tits. The shadows of her areolas become prominent and Jace feels his balls draw up tight. Even so, familial annoyance is stronger than that of a hundred men and he rolls his eyes.

“It’s mine. Don’t take my shit without asking, brat.”

It’s a tepid delivery at best, but it has a fire lighting in her that makes her amethyst orbs glow.

“Fine.” Without any preamble, Ysilla strolls into his room until she arrives in front of him and pulls his shirt off and over her head. Tossing it in his face, she crosses her arms under her breasts, her rosy mocha nipples pebbling in the artificially cool air. “Happy?” He misses her smirk but he can hear it in her voice.

“Not on purpose my ass.” Jace growls, ripping the shirt off of him. Springing to his feet, his fist finds its way into her hair and he yanks her to his mouth. She tastes like matcha and spearmint, and the strawberry gloss thick on her lips.

She melts into his chest, putty in his devout hands. Her own hands rise to cradle his face, still lost in their kiss as she strokes her thumb over the defined edge of his jaw. Jace unwinds his fist, unclenching it to lay his palm flat at the nape of her neck. Too soon, she pulls away, smiling triumphantly as he tries to chase her lips.

“You’re so easy to tease, little brother.”

“Nothing little about what I’m about to give you.” Jace goads, running his hands down her bare back, tracing the twin dimples dotting the bloom of her backside. He pulls her forward until there’s not even a whisper left between them. The new stance does wonders for them both, Jace sliding his thigh between Ysilla’s. She’s not wearing any panties. And she’s already wet. He rocks his knee along her clit, the pearl perked and pronounced, and Jace knows if he keeps it up she’ll cream all over his leg.

“Bed. M’not bouncing on your lap in your game chair.” She whines, tugging off his hoodie and shimmying down his basketball shorts, a woman on a mission.

“Not like you haven’t done it before.” He bites but concedes, ushering her backwards into his bed. He gets her underneath him for a brief, blissful moment before he’s maneuvered onto his back. She likes to be on top- a throne fit for a princess, as she said once before. Plus, I like to see the face you make when you cum.

He spits into his palm, stroking himself quickly. A little extra slide is never a bad thing. “Sissy, spread your legs.”

Ysilla does what she’s told (for once) and goes gooey as Jace slips the head of himself into her opening. He gets a handful of her hips, thumbing at her hip bones as he eases her down, letting her slide onto every rigid inch. She whimpers, wiggling on his lap as she bottoms out on his dick. Gods above. Targaryen men and their horse cocks will be the absolute death of her.

“Jaceyyyyyy,” she whines, the pressure in her lower belly a heaviness she can’t shake.

“If you wanted dick, all you had to do was say so.” Jace chuckles but it’s labored. She’s so fucking tight- he doesn’t know if it’s the pilates she does or good genetics, but it’s like being in a turtleneck in July.

Within a second, his door squeaks open and the two tangled Targaryens would jump apart if they didn’t know exactly who would be getting home at 4PM on a Wednesday.

“Ooohhhh, what are you two gettin’ up to, eh?” Luke’s hand smacks down a greeting on Ysilla’s backside, and she jumps from the sting. He sprawls out in the previously occupied chair, giving himself a front row seat to his brother and sister’s debauchery.

Luke is sprouting, taller than even their dad. He tugs down his trackies, of course a stereotypical grey that hugs him just right, and his cock springs up, bobbing back and forth like a metronome. He’s not super thick around his shaft, but the kids got length that you feel knocking in your stomach.

Ysilla stares, shamelessly, her throat awfully lonely. He notices and lets her attention go straight to his head (both of them).

“See something you like, babe?” Luke winks at her, a cheeky grin plucking up his lips. He pumps himself once, a bead of precum crowning his pretty cock.

“Lukey,” he whines at Ysilla’s croon. His sister is so fucking stunning- gorgeous, breathtaking. He’d do anything for her. She’s the voice in his head, the drive in his passion, the star in his fantasies. She’s been there for everything- it’s hard for him not to be a little bit sprung.

“You forget about me, love?” Jace places a wet kiss at the cradle of her jaw. Ysilla smiles, tangling her fingers in his tight curls.

They have curly hair, all three of them. Ysilla knows Harwin isn’t her dad- her sperm donor, she means. Harwin has been there for all the things that mattered and those that didn’t, he’s her fucking dad. Blood doesn’t get to take that away from her. And in pictures, it’s easy to believe they’re all from the same vine. Until you account for Viz and Aeg and their momma, and then every family photo is a whole motley crew snapshot.

“Don’t be jealous, Jace.” She coos, in a mellow mocking voice.

He rolls his eyes, a pink blush prickling at his freckled cheeks. He steals a proper kiss this time, a wet peck that has Ysilla coming back for more, opening her mouth in a slow, sensual lick. Jace grinds into her, basking in her gasps that he drinks down drunkenly.

A particularly pitiful moan from the foot of the bed reminds her to be generous with her attention. Jace lets go of her mouth, head dipping down just so that he catches her swinging breast in his mouth. He widens his jaw, tongue lapping lewdley at her flesh, looking as if he’s trying to swallow it whole. Ysilla strokes his cheek fondly. He gets so needy like this- needs his big sister to keep him grounded. She lets her head loll back, pinning Luke with a simmering stare that is reminiscent of predator and prey. It shouldn’t twist up his belly like it does but he’s long passed caring about what gets him off. As long as she’ll let him taste her.

“Wanna join us, bud?”

Luke nods, all boyish enthusiasm, eager to please. “Wherever you want me, sis.”

Ooooh, that’s a fun thought. Her mouth floods with saliva, her taste buds perking up at the thought of Luke’s salty spunk. She gives a good handy, she could jerk him off until he busts. Or, she could flip onto her back, ride Jace in reverse and let Luke straddle her chest and maul her tits until he’d gift her a pearl necklace. Decisions, decisions. Ysilla rocks faster on Jace’s cock, dragging him in and out of her in a way that has her clit fluttering like butterfly wings.

Absently, she rubs down her left cheek, still stinging from Luke’s slap, and lets her fingertips dip into her cleft. She’s wet there too- fuck, more like soaked. She was riding her vibrator until Jace had finally called her to him. She’d been dripping since she stole his shirt from his dresser, going absolutely mental at the soft cotton caressing her nipples, his cologne soaked into the fabric. She huffed it like an addict, brought it up to her nose while she rode the vibe until her hand cramped.

Luke’s eyes follow her wandering hand, and his brows scrunch in agonized pleasure as she slips a finger over her tight, clenched hole. Decision made.

“Want you right here, Lucerys.” Ysilla murmurs, knocking her knees further apart, bringing her stomach to stomach with Jace as a result. “Want you both, at the same time.”

Luke’s eyes go gumball wide. “You forreal?”

She bites at her lip, moaning as Jace thrusts hard. He’s as excited by the idea as she is. She nods fervently, arching her back more invitingly and Luke fucking moans, tightening his grip on the base of his cock.

“Fuck, you two are so hot.” He grinds into his fist, his other hand drifting beneath him and rolling his balls between strong fingers. He kicks his sweats the rest of the way off, unable to stop himself as he jerks off faster, his sack tightening in a tantalizing threat.

Jace notices, releasing Ysilla’s breast from his famished mouth. “Don’t blow yet, bro. Wait ‘til you’re inside her.”

Ysilla smirks, turning her sights back to the man buried in her cunt.

“Yeah? Wanna wait until he’s inside me? Want you both to fill me up with your cum ‘till it leaks out of my holes?” She whispers at Jace’s throat, dropping an open mouthed kiss over his Adam’s apple.

Jace can give as good as he gets. “What if I do? What if I want to see my cum drip out of your tight cunny, and plug you up with something so it sticks? Could get you barefoot and pregnant, could get you bouncing on my cock all day long while your belly grows with my babe.” He rubs at her tits, pinching and plucking at her spit slick nipple with a tenderness he means wholeheartedly as he whispers his depraved fancy into her ear.

Ysilla clenches around him, tight enough that his vision whites out for a moment. She can’t help it, bouncing up and down on his fat cock, his words liquid lust in her tummy.

“Oh, Jace. Jacey Jacey, fuck, little brother.” She pants, taking every inch of his shaft over and over again, hissing at the stretch of it burning up her insides. Gods, she never tires of it- his cock is such a treat, one she only indulges in when she has the time to truly savor it.

“You got one more little brother right behind ya, pretty girl.” Luke whispers at her ear, kissing her pulse point with delicate lips.

Jace reaches into his bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle and tossing it on the duvet. “Lube, man.”

The eldest brother busies his hands, grabbing ahold of his sister’s plush backside, a cheek in each palm, and pulls her apart to expose her to their little brother’s lecherous gaze. Dropping to his knees, Luke spits a glob of saliva into her puckered hole, enjoying how her sensitive skin quivers under his attention. He coats his fingers generously with the thick gel, and he’s gentle as he presses one past the thick muscle of her entrance. She squeals sharply before Jace occupies her mouth, shoving in two fingers for her to suck on. Ysilla has an oral fixation- a dick, chewing gum, popsicles, all her go-to’s when she’s stressed.

Luke takes advantage of Jace’s help, gliding in another finger that makes her cry out even louder. Shit, she’s got to gut up if she wants to take his dick. He scissors them back and forth, methodical in working her open. He’s only ever done this to himself, but he’s got the basics down: preparation, lube, going slow, more lube, etcetera. He keeps it up until her whimpers have died down, and when he starts to feel her rock back against him.

Satisfied, he pulls out his fingers and coats his shaft with the lube, hissing at the cool sting on his sensitive skin. He spreads it over his head with a loose grip. He’s already worked up enough, the last thing he wants to do is let his big sister down by cumming on her ass instead of inside of it.

He edges up onto his hands, ready to push upwards onto the bed so that he can take his place behind Ysilla but he’s stopped by something straight out of a wet dream. Luke whistles low. That’s a million dollar shot right there: Jace’s thick veiny cock pulling out before pumping back into Ysilla’s hot pink center, the shine coating their thighs glistening in the late afternoon sun. He wonders if he could convince either of his siblings to let him film them. He knows the answer is most likely a hard no, but a boy can dream.

The carpet beneath his knees is starting to give him rug burn but he's so transfixed, it's like he's been hypnotized. A simple, sinful thought comes unbidden into his mind and he grins. While he's down here, he might as well sightsee. Luke ducks down, and sucks one of Jace’s balls into his mouth, just to hear his brother curse him in Valyrian. He rolls it around his tongue, before releasing it with a satisfied pop! and takes a lick of the cream seeping from Silli’s hole.

Ysilla flinches away, kicking out her foot to shove at his shoulder. He chuckles and relents, adrenaline tight in his muscles as he wraps his arms around her dainty waist and lines up behind her.

"Here goes nothin', gang." Luke shudders out a breath as he maneuvers into position, and edges forward painfully slow as Ysilla's pretty ass swallows his dick. It takes forever and a day, but finally, thankfully, he's all the way in, flush with the back of her thighs and mind melting out of his ears.

“Good Gods above, Lukey.” Ysilla has to remind herself to breathe.

“You okay sissy?” Luke pecks her temple, tucking her bangs back behind her ear. She blushes, cheeks burning hot- he’s such a good boy.

“I’m fine, dude. It’s just… neither of you are small. I can feel you tickling my tonsils.”

“Fucking hell. I can feel him, mercy, I can feel him through you, Silli.” Jace sobs wetly, hands shaking where he has a hold of her hips. Mother, Father and fucking Crone, this is infuckingsane. He can’t last like this, he isn’t superhuman for Gods’ sake.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Jacaerys. If I’m taking both of your cocks, I’ll get time to enjoy it. You’ll cum when I tell you to.” She commands, all eldest child superiority, even with a strained voice.

“Yes, sissy.” He croaks out, his irises misty like a spring rain. She hums approvingly, withholding her praise until he can deliver on his promise.

“Same goes for you, kiddo.” She aims over her shoulder.

“Anything you say, Silli.” Luke draws out, letting her agonize over every long inch before fucking himself back into her ass.

The brothers start to build a gentle push-pull rhythm, one in one out, trying to get her adjusted to having two dicks inside of her- as if that’s something that someone can get used to after five fucking minutes. But as the pain and discomfort fade into a fullness that she feels up to her throat, little jabs of pleasure have Ysilla pushing herself back and forth against her boys.

“This is crazy, holy shit this is crazy.” She gasps, hands wildly clutching at anything she can.

“Never felt something this tight. Squeezing the fuckin’ life out of me, bloody hell.” Luke gasps into her shoulder, eyes screwed shut in concentration, dragging his hips back and forth.

Jace can't talk- all of his focus on not blowing his top and facing his sister's wrath. Sparing a glance at her, he can't help but sigh out:

“You're so fucking pretty, Sil.”

The look of love that accompanies Jace’s hushed praise has the tightening snapping loose in Ysilla's belly, vainly getting off from his attention. Well that, and the fact that she's double stuffed like an Oreo.

Her orgasm slices through her, a hot knife through butter, and a violent shiver racks up her spine. She bows upward in some type of silly attempt to get away from Jace’s plundering cock, but all she succeeds in doing is arching into Luke’s greedy hands and greenlighting him into slamming into her hole even harder.

“Oh, oh! I can’t take it. It’s too much, stop!” Ysilla pleads, pushing and pulling at all of the naked skin surrounding her, overwhelmed and overfucked.

“Do you think she really means that, Lukey?” Jace asks and it’s too sugar sweet to be anything but condescending.

“No fuckin’ way, mate. This ass wouldn’t let me go for anything.” Luke slurs, half fucking stupid, his smarts being squeezed out by way of his prick.

“I’m not a unnhhhh. Not just a hole for you two to fuck.” Her words would land a better mark if there wasn’t a thin line of drool dripping off of her bottom lip, her eyes gone glossy. Her pussy throbs, her heartbeat pulsing there as well as violently in her ears.

Luke fish hooks her, pulling her into his lips by the meat of her cheek. “Shut the fuck up, Ysi.” He says it so adoringly before releasing her, only to keep her quiet as he slides his tongue into her mouth. It does the job, Ysilla suckling at it like it’s a lolli.

Jace lets his hands wander, worshiping the beautiful bodies laid out for his ravenous gaze. His fingers tickle over the dip of Luke’s slight waist, his thumb strokes the flare of Ysilla’s ribcage- his hands discovering and mapping a route of impassioned fealty that he will never forget. They're both his. It's an absolutely mental thought, one he should have no business entertaining but here, in his bed, none of them are to think of anything else but each other.

Jace grabs Ysilla tight by her jaw, ripping her away from Luke’s tongue. He brings her in close, forcing her to stare into his sweet chocolate eyes. “I’m gonna nut in your pussy, sissy, and Luke’s gonna fill that ass up. And you’re gonna take it, like the good girl you are, or I’ll put you on your knees and have you suck my cock until dinnertime.”

Ysilla giggles, delighting in the way Jace’s smirk turns down into a sneer. Humbling her brothers is an A1 skill, one she’s perfected over the years with a constant dedication to her craft.

“Promise?”

Jace chuckles, because he’s sick like she is. Still holding her close, his grip slips down to wrap around her throat. He pushes up, palm tight to her windpipe and forces her flush to Luke’s sweaty chest. He presses his feet into his mattress, praying for leverage, and plows every inch of his thick dick into her cunt.

Luke’s lungs shrivel up, the friction of his brother’s thrusting cock through the thin skin separating Ysilla’s holes too much for him to take. He hunches over her, slinging his arm around her hips. He yanks her into an arch, his forearm digging tightly into where her lower belly meets her mound, and humps desperately at the curve of her backside.

Jace chases them, fucking his hips up into his siblings wildly, the wet smack of his thighs against Ysilla’s fucking nasty. He wraps his legs around all of them, crossing his ankles above Luke’s tight, thrusting ass, keeping them all nice and close.

“Fuckkkk yeah, take that dick. Both of you.”

Gods bless football, the muscles threaded through his chicken legs all due to his practicing and playing. Fuck, he should make Sil wear his jersey after his next game. Maybe even convince Luke to give him a mouthful of his junk, make him stretch out his throat while Silli rides his lap. Do it in the car park after the match. His tint is dark enough- he could have them together, anyway he wants while the rest of his team would pile into their own cars, none the wiser to sinful shit their star striker gets up to with his own flesh and blood.

Jace knows he doesn’t have much left in his tank; he was ready to bust as soon as Luke slid home alongside him. He doesn’t want to finish yet- somewhat pridefully, not before his little brother. One thing is on his side though- he has a big fucking mouth.

“So pretty, both of my fucking sluts. Gonna knock you two up, breed you until you’re fucking sick of it.”

Ysilla and Luke’s eyes roll back, mirror images of lust, and Jace doesn’t know if he imagines it but he swears he can feel it as Luke breaks, his cum molten hot through the partition of Silli’s walls as he spills deep into her guts.

“Fuckkk yes, cum inside of her Luke. Make it messy, shit, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” Jace spits through clenched teeth, digging his heels cruelly into Luke’s soft thighs. As if on cue, both brothers’ trembling fingers dive between Ysilla’s legs, and rub furiously at her clit. She chokes, her nails rooting into each one of them, keeping them close as she breaks the fuck apart. One of them shouts as she clamps down in a vice grip, but it's all static in her ears, her orgasm washing anything away that's not white hot heat. It lasts so long her toes go numb and her knees shake tremors throughout her thighs.

Luke and Ysilla topple like a house of cards, landing in a jumbled pile of limbs and other sweat soaked appendages. Jace’s bed is a King but even so, the trio chooses to remain wrapped up in each other, gasping for breath and stretching out sore legs.

The peek of sky through the blinds gets dimmer the longer they all lie there, the glow from the TV glaring brighter and brighter as the room dips into darkness. Jace searches for his remote, doing his best not to jostle his bedmates, until he finds it under his pillow. Going for the red power button, his thumb hovers over it until a flashing icon in the corner of the screen pitches his stomach like he’s on a rollercoaster.

“Oh, fuck me.”

“I don’t think I have the energy to do that.” Luke groans, face buried in his sister’s back.

“Me either.” Ysilla chuckles wearily, already well on her way to unconsciousness, snuggled between her favorite boys. Jace winces, letting them enjoy the last few seconds of afterglow before he ruins the rest of their lives.

“Okay… neither of you can hit me for what I’m about to tell you.”

Ysilla blinks at him, suddenly wide awake at the tense tone he’s taken on.

“Jace… what is it?”

He stares at the F1 pause screen, Aegon T. connected via headset still lit up in green in the top right corner. His own headset rests innocently atop his desk, the mic almost pointing accusingly towards the bed. And there’s no way in any of the Seven Hells that their uncle didn’t just get an earful of his niece and nephews railing each other into oblivion.

“I think we may have a huge fucking problem.”

#hotd #house of the dragon #modern hotd #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x oc #jacaerys velaryon smut #lucerys velaryon #lucerys targaryen #lucerys x you #lucerys x reader #lucerys x oc #lucerys velaryon smut #hotd smut #hotd kink #hotd pwp

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willowser · 1 year ago

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i keep thinking about touya going to the same spot he and his ex do drop off, every two weeks. it's outside some little bakery that he thinks is too expensive—and he has a sneaking suspicion that's why his baby mama chose the place—but he always buys his little bug something regardless. a pink pastry with lots of sprinkles and frosting, in the shape of a unicorn or something or other.

and you always come with him. have been for a few years now and you make friendly small talk with his ex and when his daughter jumps into your arms, you swing her around and you both giggle to each other, foreheads pressed together, eyelashes blinking close enough to make his heart swell.

and the first time you're not there, his daughter doesn't wait a minute after jumping out of her mom's car to frown up at him and ask, "where's bub?"

and truthfully, touya's been dreading this moment since he'd pissed you off enough to have you storming out of his apartment, a few days ago. still doesn't know what to tell her, how to explain that he's never loved someone the way he loves you and yet he's sabotaging everything anyway.

"bub is at bub's house."

her light little eyebrows pull down ever further, until a crease forms between them, and then she even takes another look behind him in case he's joking. "why?"

touya grinds his gum between his teeth and tells himself it's better than a cigarette. "she just is."

his ex doesn't say anything, thank god, but he can feel the once over she gives him. he looks like shit and he knows it, because he's aggravated and disappointed in himself, and all the things he'd normally use to deal with those feelings would break his sobriety. so he's only got some spearmint gum.

his daughter doesn't say anything else until they're in their seats on the train, her by the window, drawing shapes in the fog her breath makes. they go through a tunnel and the light from the day disappears and she loses interest, turning to stare up at touya as he closes his eyes and leans his head back as far as it can go.

"are you and bub mad at each other?"

touya opens his eyes, but stares only at the ceiling of the train. all he can see is the hurt on your face when he'd yelled at you, the anger that he drew out, like a poison. "it's—" one thing he tries not to do to his kid, however, is lie. "somethin' like that."

she shuffles around in her seat until she's facing him fully, leaning her head against the back of it as she blinks her big, blue eyes up at him. "did she be mean to you?"

"no."

"did you be mean to her?"

it seems so complicated, when touya thinks about it. why he'd started a fight with you, where his insecurity comes from, why he wants you so bad but is too afraid to admit it out loud—but then his kid makes it seem so easy. so silly.

touya shuffles until he's facing her, too, and even scoots down in his chair so they're eye-level, almost like whispering school girls at a slumber party. "yeah," he admits. "i was kinda mean to her."

"but why?"

touya frowns and still doesn't know what to say. the city skyline opens up behind her, out in the distance, and he watches the setting sun over the buildings until it starts to make him sick. "you remember when you had that scooter, and you fell and scraped your knee?" she nods. "and then you didn't want to ride it anymore because you were afraid you'd do it again? it's...like that."

not a single look of understanding comes across her face.

touya sighs and scoots back upright, bending to dig his phone from his pocket. "you wanna talk to her?"

"yeah!"

he pulls up your contact in his phone—just your name and all the hearts removed, because he's petty like that—but instead of staring at it like he has been for days—he finally calls. it wouldn't surprise him if you didn't answer, but he gnaws his lip as it rings, and it seems like he and his little girl both hold their breath.

"hello?"

when he hands off the phone to his daughter, she happily snatches it up, turning on her knees to look out the window as she grins. "hi bub!"

and touya still doesn't know what to say or how he'll fix it, but he finds some comfort—some of the words—when he hears the tone in your voice change, all sing-song and adoring. "hi, my angel!"

#cw children #✿ thoughts: dabi/touya #i've been thinking about this all day #his daughter IMMEDIATELY is like #🤨🤨🤨 uh ???? 🤨🤨🤨#you forgot to bring something dad #LMAO #this is trash garbage but i'm sleepy 😌#✿ theme: dad dabi/touya

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 5 months ago

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Potatoes Weren't On The Grocery List!

Pairing: Russell Shaw x f!reader, Reader POV

Prompt:"Please put the potato down."

Requested By: @zepskies

Summary: When your boyfriend comes back into town acting different and won't tell you what's wrong, you jump to an extreme conclusion, and use an unusual form of punishment to get some answers. Saturday morning at the supermarket just got a little bit more interesting...

Tropes: Established Relationship, Suspected Cheating, Fluff

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: References to Sex, Sexual innuendo, Kissing, Cursing, Little bit of self-deprecating thought (reader), Jealousy, Supposed Cheating? Embarrassing Situation at a Supermarket? Inappropriate Use of Potatoes? Cheesy Potato Jokes? I think that's everything? This one is more fluffy than anything else.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

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A/N: This is another prompt requested for my prompt celebration by my lovely friend @zepskies 💗 Thank you so much for sending this one in! Alright, I know this entire situation is just CRAZY, but it really did make me cackle to think up another way of using potatoes. 🥔

“Would the owner of a red Prius with a bumper sticker that says ‘Driver Picks The Music, Shotgun Shuts His Cakehole’ please come to the customer service desk?” A nasally voice crackles over the intercom, halting the sound of “Heaven Is A Place On Earth” that plays over the loudspeaker in the supermarket. “Again, would the owner of a red Prius with the-”

The rest of the message is drowned out in the high pitched squeak of a shopping cart against terrazzo two aisles away, the smell of cinnamon and fresh bread that floats from the bakery, and the chatter that buzzes up over the towering shelves of food.

Saturday was meal prep day, which meant that you spent your morning weaving your cart in and out of the crowded grocery store one block away from your apartment buying everything you needed for the week.

But despite how long it took, grocery shopping never felt like a chore because you believed it gave you a snap-shot into someone else’s life.

You spent all those Saturday mornings watching other people and creating stories for them in your head. Why they bought something, who they were shopping for, noticing who they were shopping with, wondering what they would cook-

It was intimate, feeling the world slow down for just a few moments to live in the present with them.

Noticing a man on the phone in the feminine hygiene section talking to an unseen entity, watching a little girl eat an apple while her mother reaches up for a box of cheerios, waiting in line behind a guy with only a box of condoms and spearmint gum in his basket, hearing a girl hum a little too loud and dance to the song blasting from her headphones as she shopped, and walking behind a woman in a power suit who studied a grocery list scrawled on a scrap of paper.

They were all going somewhere, all moving forward with their day and yet you all shared this single moment of serendipity, to be in the same place at the same time.

Unfortunately, today you were not enjoying it one bit and it had everything to do with the man standing at the end of your shopping cart studying an alarming amount of avocados with a blank expression.

Something was wrong.

You knew that the second your boyfriend, Russell, had come home. He’d been on a case with Colter a few states away, pulled from your arms in the middle of the night when he got an S.O.S from his younger brother, and because the two of you had been dating long distance comfortably for the better part of three years, you could tell that there was something seriously bothering him.

But you didn’t know what.

It was the first time in your entire relationship that you couldn’t tell what Russell was thinking and all it did was frustrate you further.

He was distant, moody, and on edge. You’d never seen him like this before, not even when you brought him home to meet your family for Christmas last year. Sure, he’d been a little jittery and you’d made a joke about him being more afraid to meet your dad than he was to face a convoy of armed guards, but Russell was not like this ever.

Your boyfriend was calm, collected, and smooth (too much sometimes, but you weren’t complaining). What he was not was jumpy and nervous. It took a lot to rattle him given what he’d been through. That’s why you were worried, because the man standing at the end of your shopping cart was not your boyfriend.

Maybe he got body snatched while he was out of town?

The idea that aliens had come down and taken the man you loved hostage was one of the only possible reasons why he was acting so odd.

Russell had barely said two words to you since he’d dragged himself into the apartment last night. He had gone straight into the bathroom for a shower, not bothering the usual running joke the two of you had when he would throw you over his shoulder and bring you with him for a well deserved bit of R and R.

And when he’d come out of the shower, a vision in a small bright pink towel tied around his waist, his bare chest glistening in the dim light of your bedroom, dark hair dripping wet and hanging forward to frame his chiseled jaw, while the mist from the warm water floated behind him and framed the beautiful man that you couldn't believe was yours, it made you feel so warm it rivaled Mt. Vesuvius before it blew.

You’d wanted to demonstrate how much you’d missed him, and you’d tried whispering sweet nothings into his ear while your fingers tickled along the edge of the towel, but Russell had kissed you on your forehead, pried away the curious fingers, and said that he was “tired.”

It made your blood run cold.

Reunion sex was the best tradition the two of you had, something you both appreciated and that fact that he’d said “no,” raised a red flag in the back of your mind the size of Texas. Russell never said no to sex, especially not after a long period of separation.

He’d gotten stabbed a year ago while on a mission, spent two nights in the hospital following a surgery (where he complained the whole time about how he didn’t need to be there), and when you brought him home and he started to get a little friendly, you told him that you didn’t think that sex was a good idea, that he needed to rest, but he’d said that it was “just a graze” and then made love to you for an hour.

Sure, you’d done most of the work, he was in recovery for goodness sake, and you didn’t want to rip his stitches… but this was different.

Russell was avoiding your gaze, acting fidgety, and when you’d tried to kiss him, Russell had opted to shift his face away to give you a quick kiss on the forehead instead.

And as much as you liked a good forehead kiss, you hadn’t seen Russell in over a week and all you wanted was a heated kiss that made you lose feeling in your legs and forget that he was gone at all.

You didn’t know what you did wrong and you tried to think of something that you could have done to make him angry or annoyed with you, but there wasn’t a single thing. The last time that you’d spoken to Russell was late four days ago and he’d told you how excited he was to see you and that he missed you.

But then why is he acting like this?

Russell pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps something quickly on the screen that’s angled away from you, his movements swift and to the point. But you note a small smile pulling at the end of his mouth. It was the first time you’d seen him smile since he got home.

You felt unsettled, anxiety thrumming and prickling along your skin like pop rocks.

You wanted Russell to talk to you. It wasn’t like him to keep things inside, if something was bothering him he was upfront about it, not passive aggressive. He didn’t slam every cabinet in your apartment or leave all the drawers in the bathroom open when the two of you were in a fight, Russell would tell you what pissed him off.

Usually it was you that drove him crazy, but he’d always said he liked it, kept him “on his toes,” and made him feel like a lion tamer in a circus.

An audible sigh comes through your lips, but Russell doesn’t look at you, instead he continues to tap something on his phone.

It reminded you of what you’d discovered him doing early this morning.

You’d woken up at four am, call it fate or just one of those random moments your body woke up before your mind did, but when you realized that you were alone, it made you uneasy.

In the three years you’d been together, Russell couldn’t keep his hands to himself, especially when he was asleep. That meant each time you woke up, Russell was laying on top of you, his strong arms wrapped around you in a bear hug, while he nuzzled his head into your hair and murmured things in his sleep you couldn’t understand.

It was your safe place, somewhere that felt unbreakable.

Entwined in Russell’s arms in the early morning with his warm body tensed around yours was better than a fluffy blanket on a cold day, better than a hot cup of cocoa that drove away a nightmare, and better than slipping into the gentle embrace of a familiar book.

It was always you that had to convince Russell to let you out of bed while he begged for another five minutes, not the other way around.

However, this morning you’d woken up to an empty bed with sheets long cold and found Russell sitting on the threadbare couch in the living room of your apartment talking on his phone in a hushed whisper.

The only words that you’d been able to make out were: “No, I haven’t talked to her yet honey.”

Your entire body had gone cold with one sentence. You had no idea who he was talking to or what Russell had to “talk” to you about, but all you could focus on was that he called whoever it was, “honey.”

It made an uncomfortable lump settle in the back of your throat. You didn’t want to believe that your boyfriend was cheating on you, but there was a little part of you that had begun to unravel, a thread in the back of your mind unwinding as you put together all the clues that Russell had given you since he came back.

The suspicious phone call, the fact that he didn’t want to make love, Russell acting distant and jumpy-

It didn’t bode well.

The thought of losing him made you want to throw up.

Russell was the place of refuge you went to when your world fell apart, and without him you didn’t know how to function. Before him your life was organized into neat little boxes and checklists, but Russell had shown you that you couldn’t control everything in your life, he brought a reassuring and welcome disorder that made you feel alive in the best way. He helped you embrace the chaos to make a life worth living.

The thought of going back to the mundane world you knew before Russell where all the men seemed to be carbon-cut frat boy copies of one another, or wanted a cookie cutter life with a woman who never spoke her mind, or never called back, never offered to pay for dinner, and never opened doors for you filled you with dread.

So you decided to go grocery shopping to clear your head and to get away from Russell for a little bit. It was the first time that you’d wanted to be away from him in all the years you’d known him and it broke your heart. Unfortunately, Russell had insisted on coming with you.

It was the only normal thing he'd done since he got back. Russell liked to do things with you no matter how mundane they would have sounded to someone else. Going to pick up the dry cleaning? Sign him up! Going to get some new thread for your sewing machine? Check! When Russell was back in town, he was back and nothing stopped him from being with you.

You would have found comfort in him coming with you if he wasn't acting lost.

The drive in his car to the supermarket had been silent and awkward, every conversation you tried to start when Russell came to a stop at a light lost in the wind. And even now Russell followed behind you like a zombie there, but not quite present.

It was an even bigger red flag, because the old Russell who came with you to the grocery store was incapable of walking down an aisle without finding one thing that he wanted. Whether it be an oversized bag of sour gummy worms or a new brand of sriracha flavored potato chips, your boyfriend was insufferable when you brought him, and you loved every second of it.

But not today.

He hadn’t said a word since you left the apartment, he even walked past the peaches without making an obligatory butt joke, and you still couldn’t think about the joke he’d made about the eggplant the last time he came with you without blushing.

Today all Russell did was stand there, his hands in his pockets, staring at the avocados, and his muscles tense beneath his army jacket as if he was anticipating something you couldn’t see.

Like a break up.

The thought made you clench your jaw together so tight you worried about the possibility of TMJ.

The urge to say something, anything was building in your chest, but you didn’t know how to start a conversation without crying or cussing him out using the colorful vocabulary you’d adopted after you met him.

The longer you stood, the more the thought of Russell cheating on you with someone else began to stitch its way into your head. Warped images of Russell in a dingy motel room along the road with a faceless woman in bed, rolling around with her for hours, the two of them laughing at your expense flashed through your mind on a sickening reel. The sentence you heard him say into the phone bouncing around in your head like a rubber ball.

His phone buzzes in his hand again, and your boyfriend’s smile widens before he types something out.

Before the two of you had started dating, Russell had been talking to Reenie regularly. Reenie with her perfect black hair, clear skin, tight pencil skirts, pristine power suits, and beautiful smile. Reenie who's badass lawyer skills made what you do for a living seem dull in comparison. Reenie who was so much of a grown up you felt like a little girl watching her mother get dressed for work.

The faceless woman in bed with your boyfriend at a motel adopts Reenie’s physique and a roar of jealousy vibrates in your head so loud it might as well be a swarm of angry bees.

Frustration, hurt, heartbreak, and anger formed a hard ball in the base of your throat and before you can stop yourself, you pick up the nearest object, a potato, and throw it as hard as you can at your boyfriend.

It hits him between his shoulder blades, glancing off his muscular back, before landing on the concrete floor with an audible thud.

You’d been aiming a little higher, but it does the trick, and it makes you feel a little bit better.

“What the hell?!” Russell turns to stare at you, showing more emotion than he has in the past 12 hours since he got back home. “Did you just throw a potato at me?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because I-” You hesitate.

You didn’t want to come out and say it, it was too terrible for you to think about. The man you loved, your best friend, cheating on you, especially after how long the two of you have been together. Instead of answering you pick up another potato.

“Whoa!” Russell holds up his hands in surrender, cracking a signature half-grin that causes another fissure to open in your heart. It was the first time that he’d genuinely smiled at you since he got back. “Didn’t think potatoes were on the list today Sweetheart.”

“They are now!” You throw it at him, but Russell ducks. The potato sails through the air past him and lands in a colorful tub of summer squash, jarring a produce clerk restocking a display of apples nearby.

You reload.

“Baby wait!” Russell half ducks behind the cart, preparing for battle. Confusion and a little bit of humor flash in his eyes. “Can you please tell me what’s wrong before you beam me with Mr. Potato-head?”

“You know!” The rough skin of the potato grates against your skin as your grip tightens.

“No, I don’t.” His gaze flicks to the projectile in your hand. “I mean, I like french fries as much as the next guy, but that’s still a little raw.”

You could feel your frustration and heartbreak swirling and beating into a wildfire in your chest, burning in the air around you as the image of Russell and Reenie writhing in bed together comes skittering back into your mind. Granted, there was a part of you that knew playing dodgeball with potatoes in the grocery store was ridiculous, but you were so upset about what you thought your boyfriend was doing that it was difficult to form the words to express it.

And throwing potatoes at him seemed like the only option.

"Please put the potato down." Russell says, still half crouched behind the grocery cart.

“No!” You take aim at his head, cocking up your arm for the next throw.

“Can you at least tell me what’s wrong?” Russell’s hands are still up in front of him, anticipating your throw, preparing to duck if need be, but his green eyes glint with a playful mirth. “Or are you going to show me what happens when good potatoes go bad?”

He looked like your Russell again, not some statue of the man you were in love with as he had the past few hours. It was infuriating that this was the thing that made him return to normal and not anything else that had happened in the 12 hours since he'd gotten home.

This time you find your words.

“Who is she!?” You screech so loud that everyone in the produce department stops to look over at Russell and you.

They were probably already watching given the fact that you’d thrown two potatoes at him and were about to unleash a third at any moment. You really hoped that you didn’t end up on the internet or the news, especially because your mother watched it religiously and would call to say “I told you so” about Russell. Ever since you’d brought him home she’d call to ask if you’d broken up with him yet. He still hadn’t won her over and this wouldn’t get him any brownie points.

“What?” Russell’s smile slips into a confused frown.

“Who is she?!”

By now the song “Heaven Is A Place On Earth” has begun to play again over the loudspeakers, the familiar tune echoing above the sounds of the supermarket.

“Who is who?”

“The girl you’re cheating on me with!”

“What?” Hurt flashes in his eyes followed quickly by surprise. “You think I’m cheating on you? Really? After everything we’ve been through together baby?”

“Don’t you baby me Russell Shaw! You’ve been acting weird since you got back! Avoiding my gaze, acting twitchy, not talking to me, refusing to touch me! Saying that you’re too tired to make love!” That last part you hadn’t meant to shout as loud as you could in the middle of a grocery store on the busiest shopping day of the week.

The elderly woman shopping for cucumbers on the opposite side of the produce display looks up to watch the two of you. Her eyes drag appreciatively over your boyfriend before picking up a large cucumber from the pile.

“You think I’m cheating on you because I told you I was tired?” Russell huffs out a laugh. “Baby, I get tired, I’m not a machine-”

“And I heard your little conversation this morning on the phone.” You continue, not smiling, your fingernails curling into the rough skin of the potato in your hand.

You hated that he wasn’t taking any of this seriously. Russell was laid back yes, but even he knew better than to tease you when you were angry, and Russell himself understood when his care-free attitude left little to be desired when you were furious with him.

“No, I haven’t talked to her yet honey!” You mimic his voice holding up the potato above your head, the axe over a head on a chopping block.

Hot frustrated tears roll down your cheek, the urge to sob catching under your rib cage, but you swallow it down.

A part of you wished that you were more calm and collected, not standing in the produce section of your local grocery store with a potato clutched in your hand like mjolnir, crying.

“Sweetheart-” He sighs and extends his hand towards you, intending to bring you some comfort. Some of his hair has fallen forward to frame his face in the commotion, and in a perfect world you would have brushed it back with a gentle smile and a kiss to the tip of his nose, but not this one.

Heaven is most certainly not a place on earth.

“No, don't touch me!” You flinch away from his outstretched hands, taking a shaky step backwards, tennis shoes squeaking against the floor. The image of him and Reenie was back, festering beneath your skin, followed by the sound of him whispering on the phone this morning.

His concerned frown drops into hurt and if your heart wasn’t already broken, that would have done it, seeing Russell look at you that way.

You’d never deprived him of your touch or the ability to touch you. Something that you’d learned early in your relationship was that deep down Russell longed for more than just one night, more than just a random fling with a woman late at night. He wanted something permanent, especially after he'd spent his entire life having the world slip between his fingers.

He’d had to learn how to be self-sufficient from an early age and deprived himself of what he really wanted for so long. But then he’d met you.

You knew deep in your heart that Russell longed for your touch and you in more ways than one. Not just for his pleasure, but the gentle lean of your head against his arm when you watched tv or the brace of your hand against his shoulder when you needed to push past him in the small hallway of your apartment or the warm embrace you gave him in the night when he came back to you. For you to take it away from him hurt more than you could ever know.

He’d had a handful of relationships, but none of them were as long as the one the two of you had and it made you feel proud to know that you were changing things for him, and that you were showing him what a healthy long lasting relationship looked like.

That was until you started lobbing potatoes at him in the produce department on your favorite shopping day of the week.

“Please, listen to me.” He pleads. This time he doesn’t try to touch you, but hurt flashes through his eyes again.

It was enough to almost make you cave. You didn’t want to believe that Russell would cheat on you, he never seemed the type for that. Sure he was flirty and spent a long time away from you, but you had trusted him because you’d believed that Russell honored your relationship the same way you did.

“Why should I? It all makes sense. You’ve been acting distant since you got back, you won’t touch me, you won’t even kiss me-”

“Can you please listen to me for one second?” He interrupts before running his hand through his hair to give it something to do, avoiding the urge to reach out for you again.

“No, I don't want to hear any of your excuses!”

Russell says your name in a frustrated tone. “It was my sister on the phone this morning.”

“Do you always talk to your sister at 4 am? Or oh, maybe it was Jake from Statefarm!” You roll your eyes. “How stupid do you think I am?”

“I don’t think you’re stupid. I’ve never thought you were stupid. It was Dory!”

“Then what was so important at 4 am that you couldn’t wait to talk to her?”

“Oh for the love of- This!” Russell thrusts his hand into the pocket of his army jacket, before he shoves something into your empty hand.

Your gaze falls to the small blue velvet box cradled in your palm, looking at it for a minute too long, the angry tornado inside making it hard to process what it is.

“Russell? What is this?”

“I called Dory because I needed her to give me a pep talk. I was too much in my head last night. And when I asked Colter the other day he didn’t help at all.” He cracks a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I wasn’t too surprised by that, my brother has never been as smooth or as smart as me.”

“To do what?” You ask hesitantly.

Russell hesitates, measuring what he's going to say. The foreign nervous glint is back in your boyfriend's gaze, the one you'd seen since he came back. The same one that made you think your boyfriend had been abducted by aliens.

“Propose.” Russell rubs the back of his neck looking sheepish. “I was going to do this somewhere special, you know? Outside that taco truck we like or at least over dinner. Not a damn grocery store.”

You thought you were going to die of shock right there.

“You were going to propose?” Your voice comes out a little hesitant and squeaky. The potato in your other hand drops to the floor, the sound of it hitting the concrete thunderous.

“Yeah. That’s why I had to tack on a few extra days to my trip. I wanted to talk to your dad in person, this didn’t seem like the kinda thing to ask over the phone.”

“What?” Your mouth drops open in surprise. “You asked my dad?”

Russell nods. “I was surprised he said yes. I don’t think I’m exactly a favorite when it comes to you parents.” He huffs out an awkward laugh, his green eyes twinkling with amusement. “I didn’t mean to be so distant, but I wanted it to be perfect. And each time I tried to think of a way to do it or try to figure out what to say I couldn’t. That’s a first for me Sweetheart, we both know that I don’t have any problems talking.”

Oh my damn, I literally accused him of cheating. I’m a terrible person.

“I was tired last night.” Russell continues. “But I did want to make love, fuck baby, I always want to make love to you, but I was worried that I would propose to you at the wrong time.”

“The wrong time?” You swipe the back of your hand over your cheeks with a sniffle.

“We both know that I’m not good at controlling what I say when you’ve got your hands all over me. Especially not when you’re in my lap riding me to high heaven.” Russell’s smirk makes your cheeks flush.

There’s an awkward silence that fills the air between the two of you as your gaze drops to the box in your hand.

I don’t deserve him.

“Are you sure that you still want to marry me? Even after I thought you were cheating?” The question comes out in a whisper, guilt tugging at your heart.

You hated that you’d treated him that way, assumed that he would be the kind of guy to cheat on you. Deep down in your heart you knew that Russell wasn’t the type, but it made you feel even more guilty for accusing him of that.

Russell steps forward reaching out to you, but hesitates, his smile faltering. “Can I touch you now?”

“Yes.”

The relieved sigh that he releases when he pulls you into his tight embrace makes more tears spill from your red eyes. You hated that you’d said that to him, that you’d deprived him of the one thing he needed since the moment the two of you met. He tucks you into the little you-shaped nook between his shoulder and his throat, arms wrapping around you warm and familiar. It feels more like home than anywhere else.

“Baby, nothing’s going to stop me from that. You could be a zombie with rotting lips infested with maggots and I’d still be the luckiest guy on the planet because I got to marry you.” His words rumble up his chest against your cheek.

“And you thought you didn’t have anything romantic to say.” You say with a giggle, squeezing him tight.

“Zombies? That’s what does it for you?” Your boyfriend's chuckle shakes your body as his hand smoothes over your back, the motion calming your racing heart.

You sniffle out a laugh, nuzzling further into his chest. By now you were sure there were tears and snot on his t-shirt, but Russell doesn’t care, not when he has you in his arms again.

“So is this a yes or are you just feeling really sorry for throwing potatoes at me?” He murmurs into the top of your head.

“Say yes sweetie, or I will.” The elderly woman who was shopping for cucumbers stage whispers from your left.

You didn’t know that she was still standing there, but all it did was bring a wave of embarrassment over you thinking of everything that you’d yelled at your boyfriend and done with the potatoes at your local grocery store.

Damn it, I’m going to have to start shopping somewhere else.

You pull back from Russell’s chest to stare up into the warm gaze of the man who’d always been there for you. “Yes.” You nod.

The kiss he gives you is the one that you wanted when he came home. The rough scrape of beard against soft skin, the tangle of his tongue in your mouth, the warmth that bubbles up from the deep to swallow you whole as you lose yourself in the man you love, and the soft gasp that comes when Russell drags you further into him with a growl that rumbles through his muscular chest.

“Now can we please go back to the apartment?” He rasps, warm hands holding on to your cheeks as if you’re going to slip away, his green eyes darkening with his words before they rake across your body. “I’d like to celebrate our engagement the old fashioned way. Unless you want to keep playing hot-potato?”

“No. We can go home.”

“Baby-” Russell rumbles once more, leaning his forehead against yours. “We’re already there.”

A/N: See happy endings all around! Thank you again @zepskies for asking me for this prompt and letting me explore another story with Russell! Daydreaming and writing about him never gets old 👀

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my general Jensen Ackles Character taglist or my Russell Shaw taglist please let me know!

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