#god i don't want to go through the Process of setting all of that up... but if i end up doing this again sooner than i'd expect

[shirogane-oushirou]

i refuse to reinstall a Totally Legit (tm) copy of photoshop just for a few gifs every once in a blue moon. but also. doing this shit without my dozens of actions and the animation window Sucks So So Bad. but i will push through... For Him...

[ddejavvu]

Cant stop thinking about Logan bending Wades darling little sister (in her 20s) over the kitchen table while Waded out on a mission. That is all I can think about right now

Insatiable - Logan Howlett x Reader

send me logan requests!

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. age gap (legal; reader is in her 20's, logan is like... 200 years old.), wilson!reader, dirty talk, slight breeding mentioned

The only reason you're able to do it in the kitchen is because Wade isn't home, and you'd managed to shut the door on his pathetically endearing little dog. Mary Puppins is probably tearing up Wade's poor excuse for a comforter right now, and Logan is tearing up- well.

You.

Your pussy.

You're bent so far over the counter that your tits are cold, your nipples stiff and sensitive against the countertop. The pressure against them hurts, or maybe it's a lack of other stimulation against them- either way, they're stinging and you wish to right yourself and tug mercilessly at them.

But Logan's weight- not the full load, or you'd be crushed - is holding you down, your hands scrabbling uselessly at the smooth counter for purchase that you'll never find as you're rocked steadily into the cabinets below.

Logan's cock is buried so deep inside of you that you're not sure he'll ever get it out again, but then he does, and then he thrusts back in and you're hit all over again with a sense of shit, I didn't know I went that deep. He's found your limit, stretched your cunt to the breaking point with his impressive length, and his facial hair tickles the side of your face as he takes your cunt from behind.

Your face smacks painfully against the cabinets over the counter and Logan reaches a hand up to cover your forehead, "Shit, be careful. Head down, honey, there you go. Wouldn't want Big Brother finding an imprint of your face in the wood."

"Whaddya think he'd say?" Logan's suddenly snickering, a gruff delight to his voice as he rams his cock inside you once more, thrusting at a steady, merciless pace, "Shit, if he knew my old ass had his sweet little sister pinned up against the counter..."

Wade would kill him. Or try valiantly to, as it's been established before by Wade's best efforts that Logan is one difficult motherfucker to kill. But you don't fancy a bloodbath even if the vessel will survive, so you tuck yourself tight to the counter so that you won't have to explain to Wade why the cupboard door is off its hinges.

Leaning forwards more only pushes your ass out further, and Logan groans, dick twitching, as he's able to thrust more viciously beneath the curve of your ass. He's humping you like a dog, a depraved pace set as he chases an impending orgasm.

"Taking you in your brother's house- aagh, shit," Logan grunts, nose nudging against the back of your neck as he inhales your sweat, "God he's gonna drop his swords on this fucking counter as soon as he walks through the door, not- not even gonna know your tits were smashed up against it. He's gonna get coke from that cabinet in an hour," Logan's voice is strained, moreso the faster he pumps his hips, and all you can do is cry out as he ravages your cunt, "He's never gonna know I made his sister cream up against it. Never gonna know I fucked my fuckin' babies into you here, aah- agh-I-!"

Logan bites, hard against your shoulder, catching some of your neck in the process and introducing yet another blindingly painful sensation that turns into sick, twisted pleasure between your legs. Your cunt is spent, barely capable of another orgasm after you'd already had two fucked out of you before, but it gives you its best shot as Logan's thick, warm cum gushes into you, immediately too much for your poor pussy to handle as it drips down your thighs instead.

Logan relinquishes your shoulder with a low groan, his breath coming hot and heavy as he pants, "You alright?"

"Yeah," You whimper, legs shaking as Logan holds you steady, "I- I don't think I can stand anymore."

"That's okay." Logan hums, gentler now that he's fucked himself calm. He peels you off of the counter, supporting your body weight as he half-walks, half-drags you down the hallway towards his bedroom, "Next round's on my bed, sweetheart. You won't need to move a muscle."

[amazinglyashy]

Hi hi I just found your blog like an hour ago and I’ve been scrolling and am obsessed with the way you write for the l&ds!! ❤️❤️ if you don’t mind I love a little angst and was wondering if you could write the boys reacting to MC showing up at their doorstep heavily injured from like a fight with a wanderer.

Oh my gosh thank you!!! And I don't mind at all, my friends make fun of me for how much I enjoy hurt/comfort and angst :'D Thank you for the request!

LaDS men react to you appearing on their doorstep, injured and bleeding

Xavier -

If you end up at his door, it's more than likely because your unconscious decided to hit the button for his floor rather than your own. You just wanted to get home, not bother anyone, but he's stood right there. Having just come home from grabbing a late night snack from a nearby convenience store, you stumbled out of the elevator right as he's unlocking his front door.

He drops his keys and his bag.

It's a good thing too, because your legs gave out right then, so it's much better for him to catch you if his arms are free.

He's calling your name, and while you're still conscious, you're not really processing anything anymore. You're in too much shock, and you've lost too much blood by now.

He'll get the door unlocked and rush you inside his apartment, setting you down on his couch as he runs for a first aid kit, calling the association for emergency services while he does so.

"You're going to be okay. I promise. Just continue to breathe, alright?"

Xavier doesn't know if he's saying that to comfort you or himself, but he also isn't stopping to think about it, as he rapidly administers first aid to your wounds to at least slow the bleeding until help can arrive.

It's three in the morning but he's wide awake sitting next to your bed at the hospital, something unnatural for someone so sleep deprived usually.

He can't bring himself to shut his eyes though.

It's not work the risk.

Not until you wake up first.

Zayne -

It's like his brain splits into two the moment that he sees you standing there.

One side is his medical knowledge rushing forward as he moves to catch you as your feet stumble beneath you, trying to impossibly assess the extent of the damage before even getting to see it all. It's the half that's taking you to his kitchen table, because it's the easiest workspace for him right now. The one that's pulling out his doctor's bag from the closet in the hall, and the first aid kit from the cupboard in the kitchen as he cuts your shirt open.

The other side?

Oh honey, his heart is breaking.

If you think there's a day at work where he doesn't pray to any existent or nonexistent god that he doesn't see you today, spread out on a gurney or operating table without warning due to your unconscious state, then you'd be painfully wrong.

It's amazing how well he works while panicking on the inside, his skilled hands patching your wounds after meticulous sterilization, any sutures needed placed perfectly even through your pained groans tugging at his heart.

He knows he needs to get you to the hospital, even though he's taken good care of you in his own home. But he needs to sink to the floor for a minute, his back dragging against the wall as he heaves a deep sigh. It's a heavy toll feeling the stick of the dried blood on his hands- your blood on his hands.

With all his knowledge, he knows you'll be okay. He knows he himself will be okay. But right now-

He's not.

Sylus -

The N109 zone is beyond dangerous, mostly due to the criminals and leeches lurking in the dark shadows, but there's also no shortage of Wanderers, including ones that have been genetically altered to be even worse than they normally were.

So when Sylus sees you stumbling at his doorstep, bloodied hand reaching for the knob as he glances at the camera feed, he's not sure he could say he's ever moved so fast in his life otherwise. "Sweetie-" He breathes, as he catches you, scooping you up and rushing you inside as quickly as he possibly can without aggravating your already extensive injuries.

Luke is already running for first aid, and Kieran is already contacting the doctor. Mephisto is shrieking in the hall as he follows Sylus to his bedroom, protesting the fact that Sylus had needed him for surveillance of a target today instead of watching you.

Sylus knows.

He knows this is his fault.

If he had had someone keeping an eye on you, this wouldn't have happened.

His eyes are glued to your barely conscious form in his arms, the guilt in the recesses of his heart digging deeper with every slather of red that painted your skin.

Sorry to say, you're going to have your work cut out for you when you wake up. It's going to take a lot of heavy lifting on your part to convince him that he's not at fault for what happened to you.

And you will be waking up.

Sylus will make sure of that.

Rafayel -

Don't make his nightmares a reality.

Not again.

He's catching you before you can even begin to sway, and he'll be lucky if he remembers to shut the door behind him, his body melding against yours as he picks you up and runs down to his car.

"No, no no no. You stay awake, cutie."

He's definitely breaking at least a dozen laws just trying to get you to Akso hospital as quickly as he can. His mind is racing as fast as his car is moving down the streets, wondering what could have happened to you, what he should be doing right now, if he should have administered first aid to you before taking off-

But he's there so fast, it would have been nearly identical on the clock regardless of him still choosing to rush you to the hospital, or run to get and administer first aid for you from within his home.

He's there until you wake up- wide awake no matter how long it takes. It could be minutes, hours, days- he can't sleep. The image of you dying before him- the image of you standing on his doorstep as well- etched on the back of his eyelids every time he tried to close his eyes.

He talks to you even when you're not awake, stroking your hand, your cheek, the side of your neck- trying to make sure you're as comfortable as he can make you.

When you wake up again, he has to hold himself back with everything in him from squeezing you too tightly. He doesn't want to burst your stitches or harm you, but his body and arms are all-encompassing on you as he hugs you firmly, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

He really doesn't need you to see him cry.

[everythingne]

little miss wingwoman (3) - ln4

You meet the Norris family, Penelope drops by for a surprise visit, and luckily Christmas Eve goes off without a hitch. Thanks to your amazing skills in everything that comes with being a nanny.

warnings/notes: I, once again, am posting christmas after christmas and i don't care <3 happy hanukkah by the way!! also shout out to my brother who inspired the whole 'athena falling asleep' bit here bc he did this w my baby cousin on christmas eve

(prev | next)

Lando is welcoming in his siblings while you're in the process of finishing up a quick little Christmas Eve dinner. They'd requested nothing crazy, so you'd scoured the internet to find a simple chicken dish, and had Lando go out to buy some games to play with the family. His siblings had all been on the same flight, but with a little rain systems coming through Monaco, his parents flight had been delayed a few hours.

Meaning, you got to be eased into meeting your roommate of barely a weeks family, and spending the holidays with them.

As you finally set down some tin foil over the last few sides, sliding them in the oven on a preheat setting to keep everything warm until Lando's parents arrived, Oliver and Flo poke around the corner to look at you.

You don't notice them studying the way you flow through Lando's kitchen, you're too busy counting over the names Lando had told you--Oliver, Flo, and Cisca, his siblings, you think in that order with Lando ahead of Flo. Then, Savannah, Lando's sister-in-law, and his two nieces Mila and Athena. His parents, Cisca and Adam, though you can't imagine calling them anything other than Mr and Mrs. Norris.

"Oh, guys," Lando's tone is full of smiles, proudly waving an arm to you as you turn around and discard your oven mitts onto the counter, "This is my roommate, Yn."

"Ah!" Oliver smiles, Athena in his hands sraring up at you with wonder in her eyes, "This is the roommate I've heard so much about."

"Oh, god, I hope all good things?" You step around Lando to properly greet each sibling, Savannah, and the girls.

"Lando talks about you a lot." Cisca teases softly, looking over at her brother, who flushed and quickly asked what everyone wanted to drink--safely deterring the conversation. Above everyones scurrying heads into the kitchen, you meet Lando's eyes, and find you can't look away as he crinkles up in a smile before turning to find cups for everyone.

A bit later, Lando runs out to go collect his parents from Nice's airport, leaving you with the siblings. Mila and Athena have taken to exploring the living room under their parents watchful eye as you scour for a good Christmas movie for them--settling on the Grinch after a while, just to have it on in the background. You can tell Athena's getting ready for a nap, but with so much excitement and noise, she seems to be struggling to settle down. Savannah seems a bit flustered, so you take a seat with her on the couch while Flo and Cisca sneak some cookies in the kitchen and gossip.

"So," Oliver starts, "We spent so long catching up with Lando, I never had a chance to ask anything about you."

"Oh, Sorry!" Savannah calls, turning to place a hand on your knee, "Don't want you to feel left out!"

"Don't apologize, it's alright! He's your brother and you said, Savannah, the last time you saw him was Goodwood, which was--what, July?" You say, watching as Cisca and Flo come to the living room, sitting down with their nieces and their toys by the big windows. Savannah offering the girls a thankful smile for taking them off her hands for the time being.

"Yeah, it's been a while." Flo hums, "And Cis and I didn't even see him at Goodwood, we saw him at Silverstone."

"He's so busy with racing, I see why but I still worry for him. He's still just the boy he was when we were young and running amuck through the woods in the middle of nowhere. He had no friends back then, and I worry he isolates himself here too, just blames it on being busy." Oliver leans back, running a hand across his head. You can see the worry for a baby brother he's watched grow clear in his eyes, and Savannah soothes a hand across his shoulders in comfort.

You hum softly, "He's got Max. And Oscar, Charles... Carlos, Alex and George, though I guess George is in London now... a lot of the drivers live close--we actually bought them presents for Christmas. He's got all of Quadrant too."

"And you," Flo prompts, looking up from where Athena tries to grab onto her hair.

"Yeah," you breathe out, turning to Oliver, "And me."

"How'd you meet?" Savannah asks and you smile.

"Max Verstappen, his 'bonus daughter' Penelope is the girl I nanny. I've worked for Kelly since Penelope was maybe three or four months, actually. Just an extra set of hands for her, but now I'm sort of like a housekeep? I watch the apartment when they're gone, cook, clean, help them keep track of everything--the two of them are also so busy." You laugh softly, watching as Athena uses the table to toddle her way over to her parents, Savannah picking up the sleepy toddler and laying her on her chest.

"But, with their baby on the way, the room I was living in is turning into a nursery. They didn't want to move, especially with a whole baby coming, so they helped me find a new place to live. Luckily, I knew Lando... kinda... we never really spoke much before but Penelope adores him so I've been out with Penelope at races or even in Monaco, and run into him."

Savannah watches as Athena scoots out of her hold and climbs across the couch, the curious toddler now taking up space in your lap as you wrap up your explanation, and a place a hand on her back, "So, Lando let me move in. I've pretty much transformed his entire apartment in exchange for the rent he's covering for me."

"I was going to say, it looks a lot better than the last time I was here." Oliver chuckles, Savannah countering with, "Yes, it does. A woman's touch was needed for sure."

"Lando kept asking us all about how to live with a girl," Cisca looks over her shoulder, watching as Flo and Mila move to join you on the couch. Little Athena snuggling into the warm of your hold as you move back.

"I told him it was just like living with sisters," Oliver rolls his eyes, "but he was insistent there was a way to do it wrong."

You laugh softly, imaging the way that he had probably begged for some sort of advice over the phone with his siblings, gently rocking a fussy Athena--who has been refusing her nap since she'd gotten into the apartment almost two hours ago now.

You speak softly, to keep the girl from waking up as she nearly is sleeping, "There really isn't, and I've been moving around so much my whole life I don't really have a set way to live. I kinda just adapt."

Before you can say anything else, the front door opens, and Lando announces he's back. Savannah lifts Athena, who whines, clinging to your shirt, and you shake her off, "I can take her, if it's okay."

"Sure, if it's fine. I wouldn't wanna wake her so close to her falling asleep. Athena loves to cuddle, she's a clinger," Savannah laughs softly, brushing her daughters wild curly hair back. You nod, holding her the way Savannah instructs--missing when Penelope used to be this tiny in your arms.

Lando's parents--Adam and Cisca, are happily talking with their children when you round the corner into the kitchen. Everyone turns with your presence, smiling at the sight of Athena curled in your arms, Mrs. Norris audibly aweing at the scene as you smile.

"Hi, it's really lovely to meet you both," You say softly, stepping over so they can give you hugs and greet their granddaughter who refuses to come out of the comfort she'd found nestled in your chest.

"I'll get the food out," Lando says, "I imagine you're all starving,"

"God, please." Flo whines, Oliver going to help his brother. You linger with the Norris parents in the hall, smiling softly as Athena lets out little snores against the warm fabric of your sweater. Savannah long gone after being dragged off by Mila.

Mrs. Norris moves into the kitchen, laughing as she scolds her sons for stealing bits of food while they bring everything out. The stack of bags and gifts flow down the hall now, the jackets and shoes overflowing the racks, and you can't help but smile at the liveliness of the once empty apartment.

"You're a real charmer," Adam says after a second and your attention is drawn to Mr. Norris. He grins, "Haven't seen Lando this organized in years."

You laugh softly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Athena's back, "It's the least I could do for him, considering he won't let me pay rent. He's been really kind to let me live here."

"That's Lando for ya," Adam looks at his son in the kitchen, helping Mila get seated at the table, "He'd give you the skin off his back if he could."

As if sensing you both looking at him, Lando's head perks up, scowling as he comes over. He takes his father's jacket out of his hands and urges him to go get a plate of the food you'd 'slaved over' making all day in the kitchen. You can't help but giggle as he shoos away his father's knowing smile and wave as he goes to join his wife and kids.

"Thanks for saving this whole holiday," Lando looks over at you, catching the way you're already looking at him. A soft smile gracing your lips as you sway the toddler in your arms.

"Your family is lovely," you reply softly, "I'm glad I could do something for them."

Lando's quiet for a moment, the both of you just watching eachother. Turning back when Flo and Cisca start cracking up over some teasing thing Mrs. Norris is saying as Oliver scowls and rebukes whatever she's saying.

"Do you want a plate?" Lando says, "I can get mine last."

"No no, wouldn't want to wake Athena. I can always heat it up after she wakes." You wave a hand, and Lando nods, stepping closer to wipe a crumb off your cheek and brush a piece of hair back into place before Flo calls him over. You wave him on and he goes, making a spectacle about making his way back to the group.

Slowly, you make your way back into the living room, slowly sinking down on the couch and getting comfortable with Athena still snoring in your arms. And as the Norris' carry on in the kitchen, you can help but lay your head back on the cushions, cuddling in to the comfiest position you can find.

You fall asleep around the point Martha May announces her love for the Grinch, and right before Flo brings out Uno for the group at the table to play.

Lando comes over about twenty minutes later, pausing when he sees you knocked out. The rest of the family peeking around the corner as Lando grabs a blanket from the chair in the corner and walks over to where you are--Athena still snuggling into your hold. He gently drapes the blanket over the two of you, grabbing a pillow to lay under your head so your neck isn't killing you in the morning, and just takes a pause to sit next to you.

His eyes travel down your hair, to your closed eyes, parted lips, the soft breaths that leave you. The way Athena has tucked herself against your chest like she just knows you're safety, that you know how to take care of her. He lifts the blanket a little higher, resists the urge to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, and stands.

No one moves fast enough for him to not catch them staring.

"Looked like you were gonna kiss her for a second," His father chimes. Lando feels heat rise to his cheeks as his siblings laugh and he just waves away their comments as he comes back to play the game with them.

When Athena stumbles in to cuddle her mom about thirty minutes later, he peeks out to see you still asleep on the couch and tilts his head. Oliver leaning on the wall leaning into the living room as Lando steps forward, tucks his arms underneath you and carefully lifts you. It's not graceful by any means, but when your eyes flutter and you settle in as he holds his breath, Oliver bites his lip to keep himself from laughing at Lando.

"I'll get the door." Oliver says, nodding his head to where the spare bedroom is. His whole family pretends not to see him nearly whack your head into the wall when he brings you into your room and lays you on the bed. Mrs. Norris does come to ensure her son has you tucked in properly, with the blinds lowered to block out the setting sun as you curl up in your bed.

"Poor thing, she's absolutely knackered." She hums, waving Oliver out of the room as Lando sheepishly rubs his neck, walking over to her.

"She cooked all day, and we've spent the week decorating everything," his voice is soft as he looks over at your sleeping form in the bed, before his mother pulls him out of the room to shut the door.

"Well, she did a wonderful job." She winks knowingly at him, earning a shy laugh from Lando as she brings him back over to the table to keep playing games.

You do manage to get up and freshen up around nine, after his family has left to sleep off their jetlag. Lando's sitting on the couch with--surprisingly to you, Penelope.

"Max dropped her off, he and Kelly have dinner with their parents and P was supposedly exhausted." Lando pokes the girls cheek, but you can see she's clearly wide awake, sheepishly smiling up at you as you chuckle to yourself.

"I'm sure she was," You chime, sitting down at the counter as Penelope climbs up to sit next to you, leaning on you and looking up at you through her long lashes.

"I just didn't wanna go." Penelope admits softly, "All everyone's been talking about is the baby. I don't care about the stupid baby, I wish it was just me again, and I didn't have to fight this little thing in my Mommy's belly for some attention."

You hum, rubbing a hand up and down Penelope's back. She'd been complaining to you about the baby since you'd gotten back to Monaco, and you'd brought it up to Max and Kelly already. From the time spent in their apartment with them, you knew it wasn't their fault Penelope was feeling this way--after her first complaint. They'd both apologized to her, and explained it to her, and after that Penelope had been fine for a while.

But having every single person in your extended family fawning over the unborn baby in your mothers stomach--buying him tons of gifts and clothes, things Penelope was used to be doted onto her, the shift had to feel weird.

"Max and Kelly still love you," it's Lando who chimes from the couch, groaning as he stands up and stretched out his shoulders, "It's been hard for them with the baby coming, and you know how much the baby needs."

Penelope nods and you pout. Usually, Christmas Eve was reserved for the Verstappen-Piquets to spend the entire night together. But it seemed every one of their traditions had been tossed aside.

"How about this," you say softly, "I have some stuff left over to bake. Why don't you, Lando, and I make some cookies for Santa, hm? We can leave them out at your apartment when I drop you off."

Penelope does light up at that and agrees, so as Lando helps her get supplies, you finish shoveling your dinner into your mouth before standing to help them with baking.

By the end of it, after Penelope's roped you and Lando into a flour fight you know is going to be a disaster to clean up, you and Lando end up carrying up a sleeping Penelope and a plate of cookies. Max laughs softly at the sight of the three of you covered in flour, and Kelly thanks you both for staying up later to watch her.

When you return to Lando's apartment, the two of you elect to finish watching whatever movie is playing on the tv. And the quiet moment, broken by occasionally showing each other something on your phones or asking questions about this absolutely absurd 80s christmas movie, just fills the home with a sense of warmth you aren't expecting to feel.

It almost makes you not want to go to bed, but alas, the Norris' are coming back over in the morning, so you two duck off to bed eventually--hesitating to part due to the invisible magnet that holds you close.

SEE NOTES ABOUT TAG LISTS BELOW:

general tag list (open, tagged in all my fics, will not update for this series. If you'd like to be added to my general list FOR this series, let me know and I'll tag you in the comments!

@d3kstar @justalittlejess @tvdtw4ever @llando4norris @daemyratwst @piastri-fvx @sltwins

series specific tag (closed BUT SEE BELOW!!)

@nikfigueiredo @ilovechickenwings @supertrashbread @sltwins @mwuaferrari @si1ver06 @linnygirl09 @kikiki81 @kittylolly4 @lazybot @tylerstacobell @formula1fordisaster @sheblogs @suns3treading @kqliie @jxnellat @anxiousbananna @hard4ndsoft @majasophieanna @diorbrxtz @freyathehuntress @obxstiles @cstads-blog @wierdflowerpower @delululeclerc @honethatty12 @henna006 @chlmtfilms @littlegrapejuice @piastrams @ravisinghs-wife @sturmatt @sagestack @bravo-delta-eccho @eiffel-hood @widow-cevans @ash88-yep @emryb @changetyre @raynetargaryan2 @callsignsiren @mayusaatma @sid-is-gr8  @awritingtree @urstepdaughter @4-ln4

TO BE TAGGED IN COMMENTS OF EACH NEW CHAPTER:

@celestrablack @hadids-world @keij0h @annimausi

(thank you to all the new people (and my return readers ofc), and everyone who has left such kind words!! happy holidays to you all <3)

[d-emeter]

Types of lingerie they'd go a little feral over — plus-size!fem!reader x cod characters

Includes: Price, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, König, Graves, Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria

CW: mid/plus-size reader, photos of people wearing lingerie!, mentions of sex/sexual activities

Photos are not indicative of reader's body type/skin colour/other physical attributes! Just meant to be examples, but us bigger girls deserve some rep on here (but also why is it so hard to find cute pics of mid/plus-size girlies that aren't ads or extremely edited?)

All rights go to owners of the photos! I tried to crop out their faces as best I could <3

John Price

Price would love anything feminine. He adores when you play into his housewife kink, parading around the house in babydoll dresses and fur-lined robes (preferably sheer). He wouldn't even bother with taking the pieces off once he gets his hands on you, simply pulling and adjusting where necessary. Not above ripping either, but don't worry, he'll gladly buy you some new sets. Maybe he should get you some of those crotchless panties, poppet, would save him a lot of hassle.

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish

Listen, as much as he loves it seeing you all dolled up, there is nothing that gets him going quicker than you in some raggedy, hole-ridden comfy clothes, preferably when they're his. His boxers framing your plump ass so nicely, digging into your flesh a bit when you move and his shirt doing nothing to hide the jiggle of your tits while your nipples poke through the fabric. If he sees you like this, his hands are all over you in a split second. God forbid your shirt is cropped, showing off your soft tummy and the underside of your breasts — you couldn't pry him off with a crowbar.

(you cannot tell me Johnny doesn't own some dumbass boxers like this)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

In fear of repeating myself, I think Simon would also go a little dreamy-eyed over you in your comfies. Except, unlike Johnny, he loves those sweet little pj-sets you wear. He's still a little taken aback every time he comes home to you curled up on his — your — couch. The realization that he has something this sweet to come home to — that he has a home at all, hitting him like a freight train. Like Price, doesn't bother taking your pajamas off when he pounces on you. Just makes it easier for him to tuck you into bed after he's done with you.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Garters, belts, straps, buckles, the whole thing. And best believe he's the one picking them out, too. You'll randomly find boxes on your bed, the contents in different styles, colours, fabrics. He insists you model them for him, or send him pictures if he's deployed. The sets are an absolute nightmare to get into, but he'll gladly help you take them off, darlin'. Don't mind him though, if he snaps a photo or two in the process. Also loves it when you wear lingerie as part of an actual outfit. What can I say, the man loves showing you off (with the knowledge he's the only one that gets to see the full sets and everything underneath them later).

König

Anything resembling some cheap halloween costume from party city. It honestly doesn't matter to him what; sexy secretary, naughty nurse, you name it. Literally whatever. He will lose his mind a little if you go as far as to engage in some roleplay pertaining to whatever you're wearing — acting like he's your boss or your patient. Oh, a pair of animal ears can and will make his eyes roll back in his head. (He will, however, ensure that your outfits are of relatively good quality — they've gotta outlast a least a few rounds, Schatzi).

Philip Graves

Ugh, he's so nasty (affectionate). He wants you to look hyper-feminine. His perfect little all-american wife (even if you've never set foot in the usa, or don't yet wear a ring on your finger) in her hyper-feminine lingerie, waiting for her soldier to come home. Frilly bras, lacy undies and silky night dresses in white or pink or any pastel shade. He gets off on the innocence they exude — makes him want to ruin you. And then wife you up. Maybe give you a baby or two.

Alejandro Vargas

Corsets!!! Or anything somewhat structured, really. This man adores the shape of your body no matter what, and the way the corset only accentuates the curve of your waist and pushes your tits up so deliciously has him rock fucking hard. If you choose to add some thigh-highs to that with the plush fat of your thighs spilling over the edge you may as well have killed him. He also has this weird infatuation with the marks the corset leaves on your skin after you (or he) take it off.

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parra

This poor man nearly faints the first time you wear lingerie for him (and pretty much every time after that). It doesn't particularly matter to him what it is, but he does like it when you stick to the classics: simple lacy bra and panty set. He likes that it makes you feel confident and (relatively) comfortable, as your comfort is always his number one priority. He also just thinks the simplicity of the sets helps accentuate the beauty of your body, rather than distract from it.

Valeria Garza

Anything expensive. Like, crazy expensive. She has the money, amor, why not spend it on something she enjoys? She'll make sure you only wear the highest quality fabrics (and that goes for all your clothing, by the way, she likes taking care of her girl). There are diamonds glittering all over your body, highlighting all your curves and twinkling with every move you make, and a nice string of pearls disappearing between your folds.

(I couldn't find ANY photos of this type of lingerie on bigger bodies, my apologies. Rest assured Valeria will get everything custom-made for you — remember, only the best for her girl)

[scriptseekstories]

Queen Bee’s Hive

Chapter 10- Static Amongst Memories

A/N: Guess who’s back after not existing for almost two weeks 🧍🏽 not my fault (totally my fault I forgot about I had to write instead of daydreaming)

Dick held the mantel of being the big brother they can rely on. He couldn’t say no to his baby brothers and sisters, especially when they feel low. He loves his family, seeing it expand over the years he knew them like the back of his hand.

Yet ever since a week ago he felt like shredding that mantel to pieces. He couldn’t even imagine being the best brother after failing you, losing you, seeing you in that grave made him fall into disparity.

“I-Is it done? Did you finally get to my baby bird? Are we going to see them one last time?” He asked in a frantic manner, gripping the back of Barbara’s chair, causing her to scowl at him and swatted his hand away.

“Back off birdbrain, we’re all wanting to see them,” She hissed at him, her calm demeanor didn’t hide her shaking hands that were filled with excitement and dread. The Bat Cave was filled with the entire family, all waiting around as the process of infiltrating your phone was almost complete.

She wanted to see how truly a genius you were, but it made the fact she didn’t see you as you, and that made her feel horrible because she saw you the same way people saw her when she was first bound it her wheelchair. She swore to never make others feel weak for who they are.

God, this whole family is full of hypocrites.

“Dick done with his aneurysm?” Jason asked while limping back to the Bat computer. It was a mere few moments after his attempted murder on the bee beast, being scolded heavily by Bruce and Alfred before his broke wrist was tended to.

"Look," Damien spoke up, "Whatever we will see, it'll be out of respect and closure... even if we don't deserve it," Ever since your death, Damien has gone through a roller coaster of emotions, your room, photos, now these videos he inspected very single thing just to understand what he failed to see all thise time.

“So you have managed to break through the H.I.V.E defense, congratulations! ~🐝”

A cheery robotic voice popped that caused everyone to scramble and stand right in front of the computer. Barbara grinned widely in triumphant pride before clicking on the keyboard.

“The few reasons to do so is that if my creator has had their device stolen, a simple hacker attempting to get a hard-on for getting through strong encryption, or that my creator has sadly passed, ~🐝”

Duke and Alfred looked at each other, hugging out breathless laughs. That was created by you alright, even if one of them knew you for hours, it was definitely your humor.

“I must advise you to handle with my creator’s mind with care, they were a very gentle soul, ~🐝”

With a glitch and a static, the voice went silent before beginning to upload files of videos into the Bat Computer. Barbara swallowed hard, before pressing play to the first video ever recorded.

The family went silent when the video showed the camera behind shaken around, being set up before staying still, showing off the empty warehouse. Nobody appeared on screen for a moment before a child like voice began to make “duuuun, dun dundun” sounds and a cardboard with scribbles that appeared to be earth came on screen.

“Earth!!” A very young voice that belonged to you years ago spoke “What is it? A floating rock drifting in space? A massive planet filled with awesome life and color? And why is it considered to be the greatest?” You dramatically asked.

The cardboard was thrown to the side, and there you were. You were only 10 years old, yet your smile never changed in Alfred’s eyes. His gloved hands tighten around the chair, tears welling up as you giggled on screen.

“Simple. Plants and animals! They were first roaming the earth way before the mere concept of humans! And plants are like the superheroes to them! They feed us, give us protection, and provided materials to make our world today!” You waved your arms up in the air, giggling while you yelped when the camera unfocused on you, frantically fixing it.

“But that’s the problem. Humans are getting greedy and hurting this planet, causing the bee population to go out rapidly! Which is where we come in!” You stepped out of view, before pulling a cart with flourishing plants on top, cloth covering a large object underneath.

“(M/N) Raine, a wonderful and beautiful woman who spent her life on saving those bees. She had a whole group to help her, even got funded by The Bruce Wayne!” Another scramble and you held up a different cardboard that had a photo taped to it of your mother, your finger pressing on a crude drawing of the Wayne Enterprise logo.

“Right before he ghosted her and got her pregnant like the slut he was,” You then bluntly stated, “But that doesn’t matter! Because despite her no longer being here… I-I made it my goal to keep her legacy alive,” You trailed off, eyes drifting away before clearing your throat.

Meanwhile, Bruce watched with his heart aching at the fact you saw so lowly of him. Though he cannot blame you, what you said was true, and he regrets it every single day until he dies.

“Hello, my name is (Name) Raine Way… Raine, and this is day one of my re-research to bring Project: Honey back! For you, mama!” You swirled in your chair, giggling as you pulled the cloth off the cart, revealing the small beehive that belonged to your mother. You tended to it all this time even after a year being away.

The video ended, showing the black screen that reflected the whole Wayne Family. Some stared in awe, others letting their tears fall. You were so small, so alone in the Manor yet you still smiled as bright as the sun.

“Show us more,” Bruce managed to choke out, placing a shoulder on Barbara’s shoulder. She nodded and clicked on another.

~

“Day 15, all these papers don’t make sense!” You whined, holding up old papers, with complex math equations and blueprints of bees invoking over complicating words.

“But that’s why mama was so smart! She could understand this…” The look in your eyes the kids knew very well. Missing your parents was hard, but they had each other to comfort. But not you.

~

“Day 46, and the bees have hatched their new queen!” You beamed, “Aaand, guess what? Bruce took in another kid! His name is Jason, and he’s so nice to me! My new big brother!” You rambled on as you let a bee perched on your finger.

Dick’s heart shattered. He never was mentioned once, and Jason got the title of big brother? He… deserved it.

~

“Day 847… JayJay is…” You hiccuped, “I don’t know why… how… but he’s-,” You couldn’t finish the recording as you broke down, sobbing into your hands as you scrambled for the camera, cutting it off quickly.

Tim gripped Jason’s hand as he felt his brother shudder ragged breaths. It was a hard blow to remember that day, he was selfish to not see how it truly affected everyone.

~

“I think this is day 1034? Wow,” You breathed out, looking older, “Guess helping for the greater good takes a while, huh?” You looked tired, with a terrible black eye on your left side.

Jason remembered. The day he returned, he punched your face out of anger. But it wasn’t for you. Never towards you he would be angry.

~

“Day 2304, Just had to shake off a dog attack from… a brat,” You tried to joke, but there was bitterness in your tone, rubbing the bandaged area on your arm.

Damien winced ever so slightly and looked away. That damn scar on your forehead stayed permanently traced on your skin the moment he arrived. He made it your problem for him not understanding anything outside the League of Assassins.

~

“Day-! Um… well, it’s my 15th birthday,” You gave a little cheer, “Wanted to try and ask Cass and Steph to hang out… didn’t even acknowledge me,” You rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath before smiling again when your bees began to swarm the sweet fruits you brought them.

Steph looked down in shame, Cass clutching the photo that held you and your mother she took from the warehouse.

~

“Another kid came in today… his name was Duke,” That was all you said, tiredly looking at the camera before moving on with your bee process, as if he wasn’t worth mentioning.

It hurt Duke deeply, but he knew it wasn’t personal truly. The others swept him away before he had the chance to know you, and he shamefully admitted he never bothered to see you again since then.

~

“Day… whatever,” It was a 16 year old you. Only recorded a month ago, you still have the awkward yet bright smile. However, the smile you had was a tired one, one that looked pitiful and pathetic.

“Not really a day to log for important things. Just a way to vent I guess,” You shrugged, before slumping over the desk and rubbing your face, inhaling shakily.

“My so-called family apparently did a family portrait when I was at school… couldn’t even be bothered to interrupt them so I just snuck behind them to my room,” You snapped bitterly, fiddling with your sleeve.

“Not only that, but Damien decided to get me into trouble again… I hate that little rat,” You hissed, before your lips quivered ever so slightly.

“I’m tired…” You finally admitted, “I’ve been trying for years to get things right, but all deemed failures… no breakthroughs, no discoveries, no legacy,” You rubbed your hand across your face.

“And the worst part? I have no one to lean to…” Tilting your head up you blinked any years away. It broke their hearts seeing you cry, why now should they feel guilt for witnessing you cry?

“My family… I can’t keep living there any longer. I have a father who doesn’t even look at me, siblings who never gave me a hint of acknowledgment unless it’s only to torment me… but at least I have a father figure, a-and a mentor!” Your wavy lips turned into a small smile, trying to cheer yourself up.

“Her name is Ivy, and she’s amazing with plants! I told her all about my love for bees, plants and animals! Sure, she’s one of the most deadliest criminals in Gotham for trying to replace humans with plant mutated corpses, but so what?” You awkwardly smiled, before coughing and sucking your teeth in at what you said.

“Poison Ivy…” Bruce mumbled, eyes wide in realization. How could he have been so stupid for not figuring it out?! Where you knew about plants so much in your journals, ones where they were extinct too, either you were into books too much… or you had a little tutoring from the best of the best plant lover.

“She even asked me who my family was so she could grind them into fertilizer for my “siblings”? And take me away from Gotham… okay now that I think about what she said-,” You scratched your neck, eyes widened at how crazy you must’ve sounded, but let out another awkward laugh.

“B-but anyways, haven’t told her who my family was, because you know. Not like it matters, since once I publish my mother’s research, I’ll be out of there and living in my own home, with my friends, and Ivy, and even Alfred!” You gave the same old determined bright smile before cutting the video short.

“That plant bastard,” Tim hissed after a moment, “Of course, she must’ve had brainwashed (Name) into their death,” Maybe he wanted someone else to put the blame on, or maybe truly Ivy was manipulating you all along, but that wasn’t true. They know nothing of your trust in others, even if it might be obviously to the point of naivety.

“Do we really know master (Name) enough to claim such things?” Alfred muttered, causing Tim to stagger slightly and rubbed his arm.

The last recording you made, was dated to the night where you were taken away from them.

“I don’t want to see this moment again,” Steph muttered, attempting to move away, yet her eyes still trailed up to the screen as Barbara hesitantly clicked on the very last video you made.

The video immediately began frantic breathing, the loud sounds of rain hitting metal was heard as the camera was shakily being tossed around before half-hazardously getting set up on a stand.

"Project: Honey," You began, "An intense research study on genetically altering the DNA and structure of the honeybee. To provide better insight on saving endangered plants and to uprise the declining bee population," You swallowed hard, preventing more tears from falling.

You were pacing around the warehouse, grabbing whatever you needed going in and out of frame, mumbling like a madman. Duke watched uncomfortably seeing you act like this. It unnerved that it was the same you when you were smiling with joy hanging out with him earlier that day.

Bruce watched as his child, the one he was meant to love and protect, breaking out after he destroyed the last thing you ever cared about in the Manor. How could he screw up this badly?

"Final test, what more can you push yourself into being a part of your research than being just like a bee?" You asked yourself, holding the jar up in the light, "For you, mama," And with that, you took a small sip.

Then another, then another. Tim and Cass winced at how you became more desperate in drinking more honey, mumbling about how delicious it was, tilting it until the honey was all gone.

Then silence.

Then it all started.

The horrific, unimaginable horror recorded for them all to see. Alfred stumbled back as if he was slapped, face pale and his hands shook. Dick covered his mouth and choked. Jason felt like throwing up, along with Steph as she looked away. Cass couldn’t bear your screams and the disgusting noises of flesh tearing. Duke was mortified, bile rising in his throat before vomiting. Barbara pushed her wheelchair away and gagged as the sounds boomed across the cave.

Then… silence. Bruce managed to stay still the whole time, horrified at what he witnessed. The bee beast… the one they saw hovering over your corpse… was you all along. The camera was then knocked over and froze mid recording when the sound of the glass roof shattered. Then silence once more.

No one dared to say a word, not a single movement as they took in what they saw, and what they realized.

“It was them…” Jason stumbled back, causing all eyes to be on him, “W-When I tried to attack it… them… It was Bumble all along… a-and I tried to kill them,” That’s when all hell broke loose.

“W-where are they now?!” “They must be all alone and scared! Of us!” “I tried to kill them…” “Oh god, are they even still alive?!” “They must be…” “Poison Ivy probably has them being tortured as we speak!” “We have to search the whole city!” We don’t even know if they’re still in Gotham as all!!” All these voices broke amongst each other, all filled with shame, fear, and rage.

Meanwhile, Bruce’s fearful eyes turned to Alfred, the one who truly knew you yet never did, the one who cared yet was never there to protect you, the one who loved you yet never was enough.

“Alfred…?” He whispered out, before flinching when a tear fell down the butler’s face, eyes shiny and hands trembling. All Alfred managed to say was weak, yet it was clear enough for all to hear.

“I need to get my baby back,”

꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁

They say there’s two reactions to danger: Fight or flight. In your bees’ case, it was freeze. Older workers protected the little ones, drones high alert, your mother’s beehive bused so loudly it shook the entire warehouse.

“My my! A party? I must say, you simply cannot call this a party without inviting entertainment!” The raspy and psychotic tone that fell into manic giggles caused the whole hive to go silent.

No one spoke, simply staring at the clown and his goons piling inside, guns drawn and pointing at them. The glow from the hive began to dim completely, the tense feeling filled the air.

“Now, which one of you sweet little insects is the leader?” Joker asked in a fake sweet tone, crouching down to look at the drones as if he was talking to children. And in a way, he was, the youngest drones were 12.

A 14 year old worker snarled at the sight of Joker, horrid memories of her last encounter with the clown involving her parents and Joker Gas rose her rage. An older drone sensed her fear and mixed rage, stopping the kid before anything she does anything stupid.

Then, a sudden loud thump shook the ground, all heads snapped at the dictation to the gigantic figure standing in the center of the hive. Joker clapped his hands delightfully and giggled.

“Wonderful! Say, something about you seems familiar? Have we had band practice before?” Joker pointed a finger, grin wide as ever, yet you stayed silent. He playfully placed a finger on his chin, thinking and squinting his eyes as he stared into yours.

“Yes… I recognize you! Hahahaha!!” Joker clapped again, “Those eyes are always a show for the light!” He waved his hands up, signaling his clown goons to raise their guns higher, causing your drones and workers to back away out of fear.

“You surely changed a bit, but I know your eyes anywhere!!” He grinned, “You’re that child belonging to that bee loving scientist! Lovely woman, I admit!” The drones and workers held disgusted expressions when Joker licked his lips at the thought of your mother.

Yet you stayed silent.

“A beauty in one’s eye, I admit, but still not amusing enough to spare her life however,” He clicked his tongue in feign sadness, shaking his head as if her death was a mere inconvenience. Your antennas twitch wildly, causing the others to snarl at him.

“They said it was a mugger, but oh ho ho!! I knew better!!” He cackled, “A simple accident on my end, one of my loyal minions had a bit of pent up anger, took it out on poor dear mother!” He faked a horrified gasp, pointing his gun at his head and pretended to shoot his head, grinning as he could practically hear your heart stop.

“But that’s neither here nor there, I supposed you want to know the reason I’m here! Funny story, really!” He kept on laughing. His stupid, irritating, psychotic laugh that made your anger rise more and more.

Your emotions vibrated heavily through the hive, causing your drones and worker’s antennas to twitch with rage, your mother’s beehive glowed in a searing bright light as Joker raised his gun.

“You see, Cobblepot has really irked me lately, and he totally crossed the line! Do I decide to be a little petty, and bring your head on a platter to him!” He did a shrugging motion, one hand on his hip and the other holding the wild lazily as if this was just another Tuesday.

His stupid smile still there.

“A reminder to him that I. Do not. Like to be undermined by,” He cocked his revolver, his face swirled into a serious sneer before grinning again, “You’ll understand when you’re older, kiddo! Or rather… guess maybe not!!” He lets out a cackle before snapping his fingers, and his clown goons pointed their guns at your drones and workers.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

The hive wasn’t filled with screams, no terror, no nothing. The Joker still had his manic grin, yet it faltered ever so slightly after the dust has finally settled. His clown goons lowered their weapons a little, searching for the bodies they assumed to take, but not a single drop of blood.

Between the clown and the drones, was a bright orange glowing wall of honey, one that you controlled with a single lift from your arms. A glint in your eyes priced Joker’s own eyes, grin getting a little wider as you swung your arms down to release the wall of honey.

With a snap of your fingers, your drones pushed the workers back and lunged at the clown goons with such speed it was merely a blink of an eye that they attacked. Joker took a stumble back, eyes darting at the sounds of the screams from his goons, the darkness only illuminating so little of silver glints from the moonlight.

The silver glints from sharp objects digging into the skin of the clown goons, cries and screams continued before Joker looked back, only to see glowing eyes in the shadows, and the looming figure of your bright body staring him down.

The Joker could only let out a hysterical giggle before taking another stumbled and tripping over a gun, falling as you sneered at him with disgust and hate.

“You dare enter my home,” One step closer to this pathetic clown.

“Terrorize my drones,” One terrified scream from one of his goon’s before muffled by honey.

“Insult my mother,” One constant cackle from Joker.

“Yet dare to expect me to laugh at my own demise?” One last step you grabbed his throat tightly, claws digging into his pale skin.

“When a wasp intrudes into a hive, the bees kills the wasp by lots of excess heat produced from intense rubbing of their bodies,” Your eyes glowed in sync with your drones, your wings unfolding and fluttering over the lights, creating a bright and reflective shine looming over Joker.

“But death seems to be a kind route… You killed j̸͈̆͌̂̋̑́͂͜͠â̸̠̋y҉̃̀̋̑j̸͈̆͌̂̋̑́͂͜͠â̸̠̋y҉̃̀̋̑, so I have a special fate for you,” That name was like a mixture of poison and fondness, an unknown yet familiar. You weren’t going to kill him. God knows you can’t take a life, you’re not a monster.

But you could make him into something useful. Something you can make better. After all, royalty needs a jester. You pushed his jaw down, opening his mouth as he kept on cackling, his permanent smile painted on his sickly pale face.

“You wish to be this party’s entertainment?” You stared down at him, pushing his mouth farther apart while your clawed finger lowered a single large drop of your honey, glowing so bright as everything seemed so fuzzy in Joker’s eyes.

Buzzzzz

“Then open wide,”

A/N: Heyyy!! Looks like you got ONE thing from your father, you don’t kill! Just… use them ig-

Anyways, that’s neither here nor there.

You finally got the Bats reacting to your videos! All sad and shameful really, but now they know!

Taglist: @pix-stuff @jellystar-star @moon0goddess @bad4amficideas @lettucel0ver @lithiumval @degenerates-posts @ryuushou @deathbynarcisstick @silverklaus @artistwithcreativeburnout @middevil465 @jsprien213 @1abi @oliviaewl @redkarmakai @nxdxsworld @the-dumber-scaramouche @sc3n3mo-t3to @tw-om-gi-hs-56387 @bunniotomia @welpthisisboring @rad4bean @ithoughtthinks @reeyy0-2 @ceramic-raven @danart501 @esposadomd @trashlanternfish360

[astars-things]

Twin Moments

Lando Norris x Y/n Hughes

Summary- 4 moments when you and Jack were in sync and it freaks Lando out... Plus a bonus scene 

1.8k words

------

1. The headache saga

Lando was in the living room watching a random show on Netflix when his phone buzzed on the coffee table, the contact reading 'jack 🏒' "Weird," Lando muttered, answering with a yawn.

"Hey, man, what's up?" The line was silent for a moment "Hey, is y/n okay?" Jack asked in a whisper, "Yeah?" Lando replied, voice rising slightly. "Why wouldn't she be?" Lando rubbed his face in confusion "She has a headache, doesn't she?" Lando froze.

In the next room, you were curled up under the covers, the curtains drawn, one of his hoodies pulled over your head. Just twenty minutes earlier, you'd mumbled something about your head pounding and asked him to bring you water and two Advil

"How did you know" Lando asked, phone pressed to his ear, brows furrowed "Dude I was in the kitchen with Luke and my temples started throbbing out of nowhere and I thought, 'Shit, Y/n has a migraine again.' I just wanted to check."

Lando sat there confused. "Lando?" Jack questioned on the other side of the phone "Yeah she does, that's weird as hell man" Jack laughed. "Twin powers. Get used to it."

He hung up before Lando could respond. Lando sat there for a minute processing what just happened. "I swear to God, they're communicating via Bluetooth or something." He muttered to himself 

2.Pizza Cravings

Jack was visiting you and Lando in Monaco since he was out of the playoffs and Lando still had to race so Jack decided to come here. You were sat in Landos' streaming room on the beanbag he had placed in there for you while Jack was out on the balcony talking on the phone with Luke and Lando sat at his gaming set up live on stream

"Lowkey I kinda want (Your favorite) Pizza right now" You thought out loud to nobody in particular, an ad for a pizza place came up on tiktok and now it was all you could think about it wasn't a want anymore it was a need

"We can get it for dinner if you want bub" Lando cooed glancing over his shoulder at you before turning back to his PC, his eyes moving to the chat who was now calling him a softie and a simp

You heard the balcony door open and close, now hearing Jacks' footsteps moving closer to the room you were in, Jack opened the door like he owned the place "Hey" Jack walked in not even looking at Lando or the multiple cameras capturing his entrance. "Are you craving pizza?" Jack asked Lando dropped his hands from his keyboard and turned to face you with his mouth wide opened

"Did you hear her at all?" Lando asked, still in shock, "No? I was on the phone to Luke and suddenly I got a taste of pizza in my mouth." Jack said like it was a normal thing. "Nahh chat send help" Lando said now facing his computer screens you and Jack both were crackling. "You're just mad you're not on the Hughes Twin Frequency." You sass 

"I don't want to be on the frequency," Lando said dramatically. "I want to unsubscribe. Where's the opt-out button?" 

3.Twin telepathy

Lando was sitting at the table on his phone while you and Jack rummage through the cabinets like gremlins in a hunt for snacks. "You ate my beef jerky." you say as you push him out of the way. "No, Lukey did. He was down here eating last night when I came down for water." 

"I swear you two are constantly eating each other's food." Lando tells you two, setting his phone down and going to take a sip of his water. "We are not. It's actually usually Lukey." You both answer in unison.

Lando freezes, setting his cup back down on the table. "Okay... That was freaky." You and Jack finally turn to look at him, mirroring each other's expression, eyebrows raised and a faint smirk. Lando pushes his chair back, scraping it against the floor as he stands up. "Stop it." "What? We always do this." You both speak at the same time again. "That's enough." He tells you, looking terrified. "Do it again and I'm calling an exorcist."

The both of you laugh as Lando runs out of the kitchen. "Good luck with that! The last one didn't do anything!" the both of you look at eachother, silently agreeing to follow him.

You walk into the living room and find Lando hiding behind Quinn. "Make them stop." Quinn laughs as Lando peeks around him. "If you think that was bad, wait until they are actually arguing about something." 

4. The dream 

You woke up gasping for air, the nightmare you just had felt so real. You were laying next too Lando at the lake house, you gently shook him awake "Babe" You barely whispered "Hey, hey whats wrong" Lando asked now fully awake see you with sweat dripping down your forehead and your body shaking 

You didn't have time to explain your dream when Jack ran into the your room, looking exactly like you with sweat running down his face, body shaking and fear in his eyes. Jack squeezed between you and Lando like it was the most normal thing in the world. "What the actual hell" Lando muttered blinking rapidly as Jack made himself comfortable and pulled the covers up like he belonged there. 

Jack wrapped an arm around your shoulder and whispered, "I had the worst dream. Something was chasing you, and I couldn’t get to you in time." Your eyes widened. "That’s what happened in mine."

Lando sat up, speechless. You and Jack exchanged a glance and nodded, silently agreeing not to elaborate. Jack didn’t move. He curled up beside you and pulled your hand into his, like he used to when you both were kids and the nightmares felt too real.  

"Okay um Jack this is our bed" Lando said gesturing between you and himself "You know, mine and Y/ns'? Romantic couple bed?"

Jack didn’t move. He just curled in closer, pulling your hand into his and lacing your fingers together like he had a hundred times before, back when you were kids and night terrors were a regular thing. "I’m not taking up that much space,"  Jack mumbled.

Lando gaped. "You are literally taking up half the mattress. I can feel your knee touching my back." Jack didn’t answer. His breathing was slowing, his panic melting away now that he was next to you.

Lando groaned and flopped back onto the mattress, muttering to himself. "This is fine. Totally normal. Yep. Just me, my girlfriend, and her human twin shadow demon all snuggled up in one bed. No big deal"  "I’m right here, you know," Jack said, eyes closed.

You reached out and grabbed Lando’s hand, intertwining it with your free one across your chest. "You’re fine. You’re not even on the edge." "I am emotionally on the edge," Lando grumbled. "Next time you two have a freaky twin dream, I’m locking the door." 

Bonus- The twin witnesses 

Lando had told the small group which consists of Max, Oscar, Carlos and Alex what he has been though with the twin problems he has dealt with. None of them believed Lando as they have never seen it. They knew you had a twin, but they have never met Jack before until today. 

The playoffs ended early for the devils which lead to Luke and Jack both deciding to come and bother their sister while she was at work and watch the Grand Prix.  

Lando was sitting outside the Mclaren hospitality unit with the group when Jack and Luke showed up "Max, Oscar, Carlos, Alex, this is Luke Y/n younger brother and this is Jack Y/ns' twin" Lando said standing up to introduce everyone 

Jack grinned, throwing a casual wave. "Hey." "Hey," they all chorused, giving polite nods and shaking hands as Jack and Luke joined the circle. Oscar gave Jack a curious glance. "So you’re the twin." Jack chuckled, clearly used to the label. "Guilty." "I’ve heard… a lot," Max said, lips twitching into a smirk as he looked between Jack and Lando.

"Yeah," Jack said, throwing Lando a look. "He talks about me like I’m Voldemort or something." which earnt a laugh from the group, they all fell into a chilled conversation until Luke got the smart idea "So I'm guessing you have all heard about the weird twin shit" A few heads nodded. Carlos gave a skeptical hum. "Lando’s told us. Sounds... exaggerated."

Luke grinned. "Cool. Watch this." Before anyone could ask, Luke casually swung and smacked Jack’s upper left arm with the back of his hand not hard, but enough to make a sound and jolt Jack slightly. "Ow, dude!" Jack muttered, shaking his head.

But no one was looking at him the groups eyes were on y/n as she was talking to another comms member when suddenly she let out an "ow" rubbing her left arm in the exact same place Luke had just hit Jack. Oscar looked like he’d seen a ghost. 

Carlos slowly turned to Lando, mouth slightly open. Max blinked once, then twice, trying to process it. Alex straight-up leaned back like he'd just witnessed a murder. Lando calmly sipped his water. "Told you."  Max leaned forward. "What the actual hell."

"There’s no way. That what?"Oscar muttered with his mouth open. Alex whispered to Lando like it was a horror movie plot. "How do you sleep at night?" "With one eye open," Lando replied seriously. "And a backup plan to escape." 

Before anyone could say more, you finished your conversation and wandered over to the group. You plopped down next to Lando with a soft smile, completely oblivious to the chaos that had just happened in your wake.

"Hey, what’s going on?" you asked, glancing around at the stunned faces. Before anyone could respond  "ACHOO!" You and Jack sneezed.

At. The. Same. Time.

In perfect sync. Same pitch. Same volume. Same slight head tilt. The entire group physically recoiled. "nope" Alex said immediately, standing up and walking away with his hands in the air. "I’m done. I’m done. You’re possessed. Both of you." Oscar looked between you and Jack like he was watching The Shining play out in real life. "That’s not human. That’s not normal." 

You and Jack both laughed perfectly in synced which made the group look at you like you both have two heads "Welcome to my life" Lando muttereted "Bro you think this is bad once mom asked me to wake them up and they were sleeping in the exact same position" Luke said grabbing his phone out to show the off the photo he took of them   

The silence was deafening. Carlos crossed himself. "I need to go to church." Oscar looked pale. "I need therapy." Max muttered, "I need tequila." Lando clapped Jack on the shoulder. "See? I wasn’t exaggerating." Jack just smirked. "Oh, this? This is nothing." 

You and Jack exchanged a look, then simultaneously raised one eyebrow. Max physically recoiled again.

please reblog, like and comment 🫶

[seokminfilm]

only yours ── choi seungcheol

🤍 pairing, choi seungcheol x reader

🤍 warnings, non-idol au, short, fluff, a little bit of angst, secret relationship, jealous seungcheol, seungcheol lowkey has an attitude, mingyu is mentioned to be a flirt, kissing, confession, seungcheol calls reader darling/angel

🤍 summary, in which seungcheol wants to know that you're only his.

🤍 author's note, hi guys *walks back into posting like i haven't been missing for ages* guess who's back! saw these coups pics and legitimately almost exploded into pieces of colorful confetti cause he's so fine 🧍knew i had to write something w these pics (PLUS lyrnation seems to LOVE my seungcheol fics for some reason) 🤷 i hope you all enjoy it, and thank you so much for 500 followers!! halfway there to 1k wtf???

🤍 now playing, xo (only if you say yes) (enhypen)

🤍 word count, 689 | for @kstrucknet, @maestro-net

"wait—what if someone sees?"

you pull away from seungcheol hurriedly, cheeks still warm with blush as seungcheol cradles your chin with his hands. he's searching your eyes, too focused on what was happening before even saying anything. the two of you had retreated to the car after mingyu had to say goodbye.

("retreated to the car" basically meaning that seungcheol had pulled you out of there as soon after mingyu said he had to go.)

"let them see, darling. i can't wait anymore." seungcheol pouts, and you don't even try to fight him, letting him bring his lips back to yours as he sighs dreamily under you.

it had been a long day for seungcheol—the two of you had decided to hang out with mingyu since his plans with everyone else were canceled last minute, and mingyu had flirted with you the whole time, unknowingly upsetting seungcheol in the process.

seungcheol knew that you loved him and were his girlfriend, but seeing mingyu attempt cheezy pickup lines and buy you lunch made seungcheol see red.

and, what made it even worse, was that you didn't even seem to notice that mingyu was flirting with you, going along with his acts of kindness without a second thought.

"seungcheol—" you pause, sentence swallowed by another one of seungcheol's warm kisses against your lips. "seungcheol, wait."

"what?" seungcheol's voice is nearly a growl now, and you put a hand on his chest, softly pushing him away as you pause to catch your breath.

seungcheol waits patiently, dark eyes glued to your figure as the setting sun lights up your back in a halo of light. you look beautiful in this moment—so beautiful seungcheol just wants to kiss you even more.

"did i do something? why are you acting like this?" you ask innocently, and seungcheol lets his head fall against the chair, letting out a pained sigh as he runs a hand through his dark hair. his thick eyebrows crease together, pouty lips pressed together as he glares at you.

"cheol, use your words, oh my god." you sigh exasperatedly, and seungcheol rolls his eyes, cheeks heating up as he crosses his arms.

"mingyu was flirting with you, and it was pissing me off. hell, it still is pissing me off, angel." seungcheol's voice is low, embarrassed, and you stare at him with confusion painted all over your face as you repeat his words. "mingyu? flirting with me?"

"yes, he was flirting with you. did you hear all the stupid pick-up lines he was using on you? the asshole even paid for your fucking lunch. that's my job." seungcheol argues, and your eyes widen, face flushing.

"i just thought he was being nice." you mumble embarrassed, and seungcheol rolls his eyes, slamming them shut as he mumbles. "of course you did, angel. you think everyone's nice."

the two of you fall silent, cheeks flushed for different reasons. you sit quietly, stunned that seungcheol had reacted to mingyu's flirting in such a way. seungcheol, on the other hand, was flushed because of anger. mingyu had his time to steal you away today, and you unknowingly let him.

"oh. i'm sorry." you whisper, and seungcheol shakes his head, looking at you as he takes your hands in his.

"no, don't be sorry, darling. if anything, i should be apologizing because of how i reacted. i—" seungcheol pauses, taking a sharp inhale as he shrugs, jean jacket ruffling with his movements. "it made me so angry, seeing mingyu flirt with you like that. i never wanted to have the world to know you were mine more than in that moment.

you lock eyes with seungcheol, studying the strong slope of his nose and the plumpness of his lips. his thick eyebrows are unfurrowed now, resting against his face calmly as he gives you a small smile.

"you're mine though, right? not mingyu's?" seungcheol asks softly, and you nod, laughing as seungcheol leans over. his face is now just a few centimeters from yours, and he tucks your hair behind your ear, staring into your eyes as you answer.

"yours, cheol. only yours."

[ourdawnishotterthanourday]

Tit For Tat [M] — Kim Mingyu

✧ Better think twice before you play ✧

Plot: Picture this… your boyfriend enjoyed his ice cream a little too much and you decide to clean up the mess he made. 

🎥 Starring: fem!reader x boyfriend!Kim Mingyu (SVT) 🎥 Genre: light SMUT [+18], established relationship 🎥 Word count: 0.9k+ 🎥 Warnings: swearing, exhibitionism, grinding, nipple play, orgasm denial/edging 🎥 Notes: I am a little later than usual but it’s here, voilaaa 💜 🎥 Shout out: thank you @nothoughtsjustfic my lemon drop for reading it through for me!!!

♡ REBLOGGING AND/OR FEEDBACK WOULD BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED — DON'T BE A STRANGER PLS ♡

Set The Scene Masterlist —  Masterlist

God, he's so fucking messy. 

That was the thought that ran through your mind as you observed your boyfriend with fascination from your spot beside him.

The two of you'd had a busy week at work so you decided to spend this warm and sunny Saturday lounging by your pool in the garden. And while you had been reading for the majority of the afternoon, Mingyu had gone for a swim and was currently recovering from said activity with a cold sweet treat that had you more than a little distracted from your book.

The man was greedily licking at his ice cream as he laid on one of the lounge chairs, seeming completely oblivious to the fact that half of the cream-colored substance was steadily dripping down his fingers, or that you were ogling him like a piece of meat. 

Mingyu was a messy eater, always had been, but you didn’t mind it at all. In fact, it was one of the things you adored about him so much. However, not once had you thought that the sight of him eating so messily was arousing. But then again, he was half naked with all his perfectly defined muscles on display and still slightly wet from the pool, and the way his mouth was moving around his ice cream reminded you of something else — something you very much wanted him to do to you. 

Yeah, you definitely couldn’t tell that you were ovulating. 

You finally had enough when some of the sticky cream landed on one of his pecs and he didn’t even bother to remove it. It was almost as if he was doing it all on purpose. 

So you put down your book and got up from your own chair, not even giving him a second to process your approach before you were sitting in his lap, legs on either side of him to trap him in. 

“Well, hello to you too.” Your boyfriend licked the ice cream from his lips as he took a moment to admire the revealing bathing suit you were wearing. 

“You know you're fucking messy, right?” You hungrily eyed the bit of ice cream that was now slowly making its way towards his taut nipple. 

His lips formed into a sly smirk. “Not my fault the ice cream is melting faster than I can eat.”

You raised your eyebrows and released an amused snort. “I somehow find that hard to believe, Mr. Kim.” 

“Too bad,” he responded, making sure to keep his eyes locked with you as he finished the remainder of his ice cream. “Are you going to help me clean up, though?”

You bit your lip, unsure if you wanted to leave him hanging or give in. But as he raised his sticky fingers to your lips, you could no longer resist the temptation.

Your lips parted almost automatically, taking in two of Mingyu’s fingers while you ground yourself against his hardening dick. 

“Fuck, baby. You look so hot with my fingers stuffed in your pretty little mouth,” he groaned, placing his free hand on your waist to help guide your movements. 

The combination of the sticky ice cream hitting your taste buds and the delicious constant pressure against your clit had you absolutely delirious with desire. Your tongue danced around his fingers with skill, sucking lightly here and there to tease him for a bit until you decided to move on to the next best thing. 

You released his fingers from your mouth with a loud pop, sending your boyfriend a mischievous grin while your hands reached for the chair handles. 

“Holy shit!” Mingyu exclaimed when you suddenly pulled on them, forcing him to lay completely flat without warning. 

“That’s better.” You chuckled, leaning down to hover your lips over his. 

Thinking you were about to kiss him, Mingyu closed his eyes, head lifting slightly to meet you halfway. Only you had other plans, so you avoided his lips and ducked your head, trailing a path of wet sloppy kisses along his neck all the way down to the part of him you had been eyeing for a while now. 

A hiss left Mingyu’s mouth as your teeth scraped over his sensitive nipple. Satisfied with his reaction, you did the same to his other nipple, making sure to lick up the trail of ice cream that had formed before clamping your lips around the hardened peak. 

As a result of your administrations, Mingyu had turned into a whiny mess beneath you, his breathing heavier than a minute ago and his hips frantically bucking against yours as you used a mix of teeth and tongue on his nipples to bring him closer to his high. 

He was exactly where you wanted him to be. 

“I’m about to fucking c-cum, shit!” 

As soon as the words had left his mouth, you were up and gone, letting a devilish grin cover your features. 

“What the heck? Where are you going?” a clearly confused Mingyu protested, reaching for you only to realize that you were already too far away. 

“Now you know exactly how I felt this morning.” You gave him a pointed look, referring to when he thought it was fun to edge you again and again, only for you to finally get your release after an hour and a half of torture. 

“Really? You’re seriously going to leave me hanging like this for that?”

You nodded, crossing your arms to emphasize your point. “Sure am. Serves you right.”

“Are you sure you want to play this game?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave as he slowly got up from the chair, his dick now visibly straining against his swimming trunks.

“Are you?” you challenged, forcing yourself to back up the closer Mingyu got.

He smirked, his eyes sparking with heat as they devoured your body from head to toe. 

“Bring it on, baby.”

🎥 Join the Set The Scene taglist: @wonuilu @choco-scoups @whoisbaek15 @vixensss @babycaratdeul @melodicrabbit

@whoa-jo @ateez-atiny380 @codeinebelle @imawkwardandshy @tokitosun @saladgirl

@sanaxo-o @livelaughloveseventeen @perfectiondazesworld @kyeomiis @svtiddies @lilydaisylily

If you wish to be added to the Set The Scene taglist, please fill out this form. We will only add those with age indicators in their bios to the taglist due to potential NSFW material within certain scenes.

[misctf]

Experiential Learning

“Dude, I don’t get it.”

“What’s not to get?” Mike grinned.

The two men paused their jog, taking a few deep breaths and basking in the warmth of the summer air. Jason wiped some sweat from his forehead and looked towards his friend.

“I guess I can understand it, well in theory.” Jason continues, running a hand through his blond hair, “But you’re telling me you’ll fuck around for hours and still not blow? Like, what’s the point?”

“That is the point, bro.” Mike stretches his muscular arms, “When you're right on the edge, so close to release... it's like nothing else. Fuck... and when you do finally let go.” His grin widens, “Fucking mind-blowing, best orgasm you’ll ever have.”

“Yeah but dude, isn't it just torture? Having to hold back all that time?” Jason shakes his head, “I'd rather just bust a nut and be done with it. Fuck, how do you get anything done? I feel like I’d be so fucking horny all day.”

Mike chuckles and slaps Jason on the back, “Oh man, it’s about the journey, not the destination. And that journey could last for hours, even days if you get as good as me.”

Jason raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Hours? Days? Dude, I don't know if my balls could take that much punishment. Sounds like a case of self-inflicted blue balls.”

“Ah you’re boring, man.” Mike shrugs, “But if you ever want a lesson.” He winks playfully.

“Gross dude.” Jason chuckles, “You do you, man. Just glad I’m not your cock.”

“You wish you were.” Mike laughs, “C’mon, lets finish this run.”

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

It’s the next morning when Jason is awakened by the sound of an unfamiliar alarm.

“Ugh fuck.” He thinks. His body feels stiff- more so than what he would’ve expected from the intensity of his workout yesterday, “I didn’t go that hard.” He thinks, his thoughts shifting to the blaring alarm, “Okay, okay... I can’t see anything...” It was so dark, and he was covered in warm fabric, “Those black out curtains are good...” He tries to reach out towards the sound of the alarm, “My arms... I can’t move my arms...” It’s a strange sensation, as if he doesn’t have arms to move.

As the realization slowly dawns on Jason, panic begins to set in. He tries to sit up, to move his legs, but feels only a strange, throbbing heat emanating from below. Each movement he makes just causes his body to twitch. He tries again and again to move, but nothing responds to his mental commands. Even his desperate attempts to call out for help are useless. No words are able to leave his mouth, which feels forced open in an circular shape. The only thing Jason can feel is his form rubbing against something soft with each weak twitch of his stiff body.

“Ugh fuck...” Jason perks up at the sound of Mike voices, “God damnit... this fuckin’ alarm.”

The alarm is silenced and Mike throws the sheets off of him. The light shines through the room, illuminating it and giving Jason a better view. Jason can barely process his new perspective. He finds himself looking directly up at Mike's toned abdominal muscles, the individual abs clearly defined. His gaze traces up further, taking in the expansive, sculpted pectoral muscles above. To either side of Jason, towering and filling his entire field of vision, are Mike's colossal thighs. He can feel the warmth radiating from them.

“C’mon dude! Don’t you see me?” Jason thinks, an increasing sense of panic welling up from inside him.

Mike yawns and looks down, a slow grin forming across his face. Jason can feel Mike’s eyes on him and he wants to ask why the hell his buddy is smiling at him. More importantly, he wanted to ask why the fuck he was apparently in his bed, wedged between his bro’s thighs. But he couldn’t- for whatever reason he could form the words.

“Well hello there, handsome.” Mike chuckles to himself, “Looks like someone's ready to start the day.” Mike reaches down at wraps his meaty hand around his throbbing cock.

A jolt of intense pleasure shoots through Jason's entire being as he feels Mike's strong hand wrap around his body. The sensation is overwhelming - every nerve ending seems to come alive at once. He can feel the texture of Mike's skin, the slight calluses on his palm, the firm yet gentle grip. As Mike begins to stroke, slowly at first then picking up speed, waves of ecstasy pulse through Jason's new body. He twitches and throbs in Mike's grasp, growing even harder.

“Oh god oh fuck what the hell is happening?! I.... ohhhh.... please stop..... I'm not a dick.... I'm not a damn cock! I’m a man!”

Jason's mind reels as the sensations intensify. Mike's grip tightens, stroking faster now. Jason's thoughts grow increasingly slurred and fragmented.

“Nnngh f-fuck... s'too much...” Jason's brain fogs over with each pump of Mike's fist. The pleasure is all-consuming, wiping away coherent thought, “Can't... can't think straight...”As Mike's strokes become more urgent, Jason's resolve crumbles. The boundaries of his identity blur and fade, “I'm... I'm not... hnnngh! 

Jason's protests dissolve. In his hazy, lust-addled state, the idea of being separate from Mike's cock starts to seem absurd. After all, everything that made him Jason was gone. His firm pecs, muscular arms, toned legs- gone, his body just a veiny, thick shaft. His handsome features, killer smile- gone, just a pink cock head. Jason's mind goes completely blank as the pleasure peaks. All rational thought vanishes, replaced only by pure, primal need.

“Yes... I am a cock... Mike's cock...” Jason thinks, his remaining shreds of identity merging fully with his new role, “This is all I am, all I've ever been...” His purpose becomes clear, “Need... to... cum...”

But the hand stops. And as it does, Mike throws back his head and moans, basking in the pleasure and pain of denied release. All the while, Jason is suddenly jolted back to reality, his thoughts becoming clear, as a sense of clarity washes over him.

“Fuck...” He thinks as he regains focus, “I nearly...”

A sense of dread washes over him. He was so close. So close to losing himself. If Mike hadn’t stopped... if he kept going...

“...and when you do finally let go... Fucking mind-blowing...”

Mike’s words repeat in Jason’s consciousness. And Jason realizes that there is certainly a truth to his bro’s statement. If... when Mike finally released... Jason tries to push the thought out of his head. He had time- maybe he could find a way to communicate or reverse this. But before he can think more on it, Jason feels his perspective change again as Mike gets out of bed.

“Gotta hit the gym first.” Mike mumbles, grinning down at his slowly softening dick, “It’s been a few days, hasn’t it? Workout first, then...”

And Jason begins to realize he might not have as much time left as he thought. Mike grabs a pair of compression shorts and plunges Jason back into darkness, the feeling of the soft fabric teasing him even more. His thoughts growing foggy once again as each of Mike’s movements send a wave of pleasure and pain down the length of his sensitive, semi-hard body. The aching need nearly unbearable. Despite his earlier determination to escape this predicament, a small part of Jason finds himself craving the release he was denied. To fully experience Mike's take on edging.

"Maybe..." he muses dreamily, "maybe letting go won't be so bad....might be nice to finally...cum..."

[yoongihan]

Services Rendered - BC - 1/3

pairing: escort chan x femreader

genre: smut, with little plot, a lot of talking, fluffy,

word count: ~ 10k

warnings: sex work, smut: pentrative safe sex, fingering (fem rec); a lot of kissing, older reader, chan goes by chris, use of 'baby' and 'yeonin' (don't ask, just writing him required all the endearments), the most ethical escort service ever; a little alcohol imbibed, but no one's drunk., some discussion of insecurities on both chris's and reader's parts. if i've missed something, let me know.

rating: 18+/M

summary: seeking a solution to your lack of experience, you assume the process will be business-like. you're entirely wrong.

a/n: vaguely based on the film Good Luck to You, Leo Grande. decided this couldn't be a one-shot they way it was going. so since the time frame is a weekend, they'll be another part for the second day, then perhaps an epilogue. thank you for the interest on the teaser. this is probably the softest sex worker au known to man.

Part One

The knock on the door startles you. It shouldn’t. You’ve known that he’ll be showing up at seven pm since you received the confirmation email; after the survey, the video interview, and the background check.

You look down at yourself at the knock, an immediate and instinctual check. There isn’t anything you can do in two seconds to change how you look, who you are; but the quick look is years and years of the world reminding you that you are not what the world wants. Which sometimes you can pride yourself on. But today, you can’t muster up that bravado.

But it’s been seconds since the first knock, so you hurry as the second rap sounds against the wood. You don’t look through the peephole because you’ll lose your nerve, and unless there are serious red flags with the person on the other side of the door, you are doing this.

It’s past time after all. 

You open the door, smile on your face even if it’s the fakest you’ve ever pasted on. 

The answering smile is far more sincere and confident than yours. And includes dimples. 

Oh god, they’d taken you seriously about often liking younger men. 

“Hi?” He starts when you don’t utter a word, shell-shocked. He says your name with a similar question mark at the end. 

“You have a beautiful smile.” You’re frozen, eyes sweeping up and down, taking in his casual air, amplified by the soft cardigan, shirt, and nice jeans. Then you actually hear what you’ve just said. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Um, please come in…Christopher?”

The confirmation email hadn’t given you a lot of details, but it did have his name. 

“Thank you and Chris is fine.” He’s still smiling as he walks in and you close the door behind. You watch him scan the room, taking in the couch, the view of the city beyond it. It’s the nicest hotel you’ve ever stayed in, but neutral territory had been recommended. “This is stunning.”

Your brain kicks back in, your eyes admiring the picture he made against the city lights. “You’re…your accent…Australian.”

He turns from taking in that spectacular view, his grin wider. “Good ear.” He sets his two bags, one messenger and one overnight (the implications of that second one sends another wave of anxiety through you) on the couch before seeing the two wine glasses on the coffee table. “Will you think less of me if I don’t drink?”

“Oh. No, not at all.” Your hands are clasped in front of you, like a caricature of an anxious woman. “There’s sodas in the minibar. Would you prefer me not to drink as well?”

He stands between the sofa and the window, eyes on you. “Will it help you relax?” He’s in profile, and you gaze at him, the strong nose, chin, and as you let your eyes travel down, the absolutely gorgeous ass.

You didn’t even know you had opinions about mens’ asses until this very moment. 

You cough a laugh, focusing back on his question. “Obvious huh?”

“It’s pointless of me to say not to be nervous, but I hope you know that you’re safe.”

You take a deep breath, walking over to the minibar and searching for two bottles of water. You force yourself to walk over to him, offering him one. 

“I know your company is reputable.”

He takes the water bottle from you, letting his fingers lightly touch yours. It’s nothing more than that, but you suspect it’s intentional. 

“It is. You did your research.” He tilts his head to the side, endearingly like he’s going to see you differently by just that change of angle. “Four months, wasn’t it?”

“You watched the interview?”

“Of course I did.”

If one of your hands wasn’t still holding a now sweating bottle of water, you would cover your face in embarrassment. You resist the impulse, just barely.

“Do you think I’d come here without doing my own research?” He’s amused, voice still warm with his accent and what you would normally categorize as fondness, but that’s impossible just meeting him seconds ago. 

“But I know nothing about you, just the company. They were very cryptic.”

“Well….isn’t that the fun of a date? The getting to know someone?” He gestures for you to sit on the couch before he untwists the cap and takes a swallow of water. He sits down once you do, leaving several feet between you. 

“Is that a better choice of word than assignation?”

He chuckles, pointing at me. “Smart. That was apparent pretty early on.” He seems completely at home even though you’ve been in the room since early afternoon, and are sitting with your back ramrod straight. “Didn’t even have to mention your job situation to know you’re smart.”

There is no natural segue into this, but you have to know. Even if he lies to you, you have to know. “Do you have a choice? I mean, do they assign you clients who fall under certain types, or do you have a quota?”

“You want to talk about my work?”

You take a breath, setting down the bottle on the table. “I guess not. I hope this isn’t horribly unwanted. I know it’s work for you, but I hope you–”

He shakes his head, immediately straightening up from his relaxed position, hand falling to your knee, not bare because you couldn’t see meeting him in a dress, even if that was encouraged for ‘heightened romance’ and ‘efficient disrobing’. Despite that you’re wearing a blue jumpsuit, his hand is so warm through the fabric. 

“This okay?” He nods to his hand placement. 

“You have carte blanche to touch me, Chris. I’ll tell you if I’m not okay with it.” That’s something you feel sure about at least.

His eyes widen and his smile grows. “Okay then. Same, by the way.”

There goes your confidence running out the door; that you can touch him in any way you want. 

“Back to your question. I chose you.”

“Excuse me?”

He laughs and gently squeezes your knee before drawing back. You’re somewhat befuddled by the simple touch and you remind yourself that you’re in for a lot more than that and to stop being so sensitive. 

“I watched your video, read your survey answers…and said yes.” He puts down the water bottle and leans forward a bit. “If no one had said yes, you wouldn’t have gotten that confirmation email.”

“You can choose?”

He nods.

“And you were okay with me?”

“Wow.”

You recognize it, the immediate words of chastisement that come when you say things like that, so you continue quickly. 

“I know, I know. I should be confident, right? Love myself, blah blah blah. I don’t hate myself. I just also know that I’ve never had someone interested in me enough to make me think that anyone would choose me.” 

He doesn’t say anything at first. And you realize you’ve just made this all the more awkward and put words into his mouth, which is highly presumptuous of you. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s easier to stare at the city lights than at him, no matter how beautiful he is. 

“Why?”

You look at him. “I…I was rude.”

“You were honest.”

You scoff. “That’s not usually a problem for me.”

“Good.”

You tuck your feet under you, leaning one elbow on the back of the sofa, eyeing him like he isn’t real.

He’s not. You’ve paid a lot of money for an illusion. 

“Really?”

“I like honesty.”

“Even if you’re playing a part for me?”

“You did not mention roleplay on that survey.” His smirk is delighted when you drop your gaze. “I’m not playing. Yes, I do what I do, but I’m going to be myself.”

“Even if all I want is so vanilla it barely qualifies for your line of work?”

He shakes his head. “Even if that’s all. But I don’t think that’s entirely true.” He reaches out, hand hovering over yours. “Okay?”

“Carte blanche.” You nod. You’re pretty sure you mentioned that you were touch-starved in the application process. 

He slots his fingers with yours, his focus on the meeting of your hands. “Do you want to talk about why I’m here?”

You wish you could say no, but that’s cowardly. And you do want to be brave. 

“That I’m a virgin and have so little understanding of sexual pleasure so I hired an expert to do what I can’t even do for myself?” your voice breaks and you hate yourself for it. 

“Why are you a virgin?” he asks. “Sex is not difficult to find if you really want to.”

“I said all this in my–”

“I’d like you to tell me anyway.” He doesn’t do more than hold your hand and his warmth, the lyrical quality of his voice seems to calm you just a touch. “Please?”

He has beautiful eyes. He probably knows that, and knows how to use them. But you can’t help but get lost in them when he says ‘please’ just like that. 

“I’m…I think or I thought that it should be something special, you know? I get that maybe I idealized it a bit much, growing up, eyes all starry with thoughts of romance and being intimate. But even recognizing that, I didn’t want to just…say yes to the drunken proposition at a bar. And…well, I’ve never been in a relationship, so being with someone I trusted wasn’t on the table either.”

“And why haven’t you been in a relationship?”

“It’s not just on me…the other person has to want to as well.” You’re beginning to sound like a petulant child and that’s not ideal. 

“You’re telling me no one wanted to?”

You stare at your combined hands. “If someone wanted to, I didn’t. If I wanted more than just a moment, he wasn’t interested.”

He says your name and you look up. You aren’t sure what he’s thinking, but it’s not pity in his eyes. That’s nice at least. 

“Why now? Why the company?”

“I’m…” You let out a heavy breath. “You saw my information. You know how old I am.”

“I do.”

“I’d like to know what an orgasm feels like before I get any older, because time seems to be running so fast and I’m frustrated that this part of life, of the human experience, is blocked from me.”

“It’s not.” He loosens his grip, turning your hand so it’s open, face-up, on your knee. He starts to trace along the lines there. “You can have an orgasm any time you want.”

“You think I haven’t tried?”

“What’s the problem?” There is no judgment in his tone, nothing but consideration. When you don’t immediately answer, he continues. “This wasn’t in your application or interview.”

“I get scared.”

To his credit, he doesn’t stop the light touching of your hand, even if admitting this feels like the quintessential ‘walking into your classroom naked’ nightmare. 

“Do you know why?”

You shrug, completely focused on the chaste and sweet brushes of skin on skin. “I haven’t been to therapy in a couple years, but I can speculate.”

He waits, a quirk of a smile when you don’t say anything. 

“I’ve probably built it up, in my head. Made it such a big deal that the anticipation is insurmountable. Or…I hate that it’ll just be me. That my first one will be on my own. I don’t know.” 

“Or societally-taught shame.”

You laugh. “Or that.”

He finally draws away after your hand feels thoroughly seduced. He leans back, waits before speaking. He doesn’t seem to rush anything, which is both nice and absolutely maddening. 

“Will it still be special if you’ve paid for it?”

That is the question, isn’t it?

“Maybe not. But at least, you’re contractually obligated to make sure I enjoy it, right? That seems pretty special after hearing everything from women I know about the men they sleep with.” The stories you’ve heard. It’s enough to question whether sex is even what you hope it might be. 

“And that’ll be enough?”

You want to reach out and touch him. Trace the lines of his face; the strong nose, the dimples, the curves of his eyebrows and lips. Touch the dark hair, wavy and messy that contrasts with the striking facial features. 

You could, you suppose. You paid for such access, right?

As beautiful as he is, as lovely as his voice is, and perhaps it’s because of those very things that you cannot be bold physically. Even if all you want is to be held. 

“I guess it has to be.”

He nods and opens his mouth to speak, but your stomach decides right then to make the most egregious sound. He laughs, a full session of giggling as you heat in mortification. He stands and offers his hand. 

“Let’s have dinner then?”

“Oh but.” How do you word this? “Is that good to do before–?” You’re an adult but you can’t for the life of you say ‘making love’ which isn’t even accurate. But ‘fucking’ feels incredibly crass.

He rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “You’ll need your energy, right?”

He’d know of course.

Some of the tension, the awkwardness, dissipates when you both look at the room service menu and order. Chris admits that spicy food is not his thing and you think it funny that this is the first thing you both have in common. 

“Do you…do you abstain from alcohol because of struggling with it?”

He has poured you a glass of the sparkling sweet stuff you’d picked up for yourself. You were pretty sure he wouldn’t like it, most men don’t or don’t admit that they do. The wine, like this entire experience, is for you. 

Your mind likes to tell you that you’re being selfish, but you’re choosing not to listen closely. 

He sets down the bottle before gesturing that you should sit again on the sofa while waiting for dinner. He waits until you sit before doing the same. You note mentally, in all capital letters, that he sits closer to you. 

“I generally don’t like it. Nor is it something I ever want to rely on…” He watches you take a sip and you find that a skill you tend to do well (drink something) is hindered by such an attentive gaze. You wipe your mouth quickly and set the glass down, looking away. “It’s my job. And I don’t want to do it with an inhibited mind.”

“Oh.”

“Can you do something for me?” he asks softly, reaching out once again to take your hand. You let him, hoping he will as successfully seduce this as he’d done with the other. 

“What?”

“When you have a thought, like you just did? Just tell me.”

“Without a filter?”

He grins, wide. “Absolutely without a filter.”

“Why?”

He chuckles and starts tracing the lines of your palm and fingers. “How am I going to get you to let go if I don’t know what is going on inside that head of yours?”

“I was hoping you’d just shut it down for me instead.”

It’s a glint. A quick, but potent change in his eyes. “Gotta know how it works before I render you senseless.”

His voice has changed too. No longer warm, but hot. No longer lyrical, but sharp. 

“It’s noisy,” you say slowly. “My brain rarely slows down or gets quiet. I went to a concert once, one I was super super excited about, and I kept telling myself to enjoy the moment, being present right then. But just telling myself that…”

“Means you weren’t. Present.”

You shake your head. “I’m going to overthink this.”

He nods. “Understood.” He lets his touch carry up the inside of your forearm and elbow. You shiver. He meets your eyes with a smirk. 

“How long have you been doing this? With the company?”

“A few years,” he says, fingers still lightly brushing your skin. “It’s not my only job. It’s just the better paying one.” 

“What else do you do?”

“Act. Or try to. I go to quite a few auditions, but the results aren’t great.” His lips twist as he thinks. “But I like it. I like the process of character work.”

“Do you do community theatre?”

“Some.” He grins. “You a theatre kid?”

“Once upon a time.”

He opens his mouth to say more, but there’s a knock at the door. “I’ll get it.”

“Oh but–”

He stands, hand out to keep you where you’re at. “It’s your weekend, right? Let me serve you.” The emphasis on ‘serve’ is left hanging as he goes to the door to retrieve dinner. You take a big gulp of your drink, unbidden images in your mind. You have no practical experience, but your imagination is as active as the rest of your brain. 

He returns with a large tray, setting down the dishes with ease.

“Worked in food service?”

“Who hasn’t?” He returns to the spot next to you and rests his hands on his knees. “You?”

“Food service? Yes. I was terrible at it.”

He laughs before removing the lids of each plate. He offers you one, silverware in his other hand. 

“Here you are, madam,” his grin is unburdened, very playful and bright. You could stare at it for hours. “Why were you terrible at it?”

You set your plate down, waiting for him to get his own food before you start. “Too many things to remember. And trying to interact with people like that? It was just…awkward. I'm decent with people, but for whatever reason, having to take their orders, bring them food and drink, figure out when is the appropriate time to bring them their check, just makes me awkward.” I shrug. “Also, murder on the feet.” You take a bite and chew, enjoying the flavors. 

“It really is. Which is why I prefer to do my work lying down.”

You can feel the immediate heat in your face at his words and he laughs so hard, he falls back on the couch. 

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry. It’s such a bad joke, but your face.” He squeezes your knee again, before taking a bite of his own meal. When you don’t say anything, he swallows and looks back at you. “What? Cheesy jokes aren’t your thing?”

It’s the smile. The crinkling of his eyes and scrunch of his nose. 

You lean close to kiss his cheek. “I just wanted to do that,” you say softly before pulling back and trying to focus on your food. You can feel his gaze as you take a few more bites. You know your embarrassment is more than obvious if he’s looking at you. 

Finally after several seconds of silence, you make eye contact. 

He smiles once you do, not saying anything, but returning to his meal. You both concentrate on that, the conversation mostly paused for sustenance. He refills your glass, but you’re careful not to drink too much, recognizing that you are a lightweight and you want to remember whatever happens. 

“We can order dessert?” he prompts when each of your plates are more empty than full. 

You lift your glass. “Plenty of sweet right here.”

“Can I try?” He doesn’t go for the extra wine glass still on the low table. He reaches for yours. It’s familiar, the drinking after someone else. You know it’s dumb to focus on it as you hired him for sex, but as you watch him sip it and stare into nothing as he ponders if he likes it or not, you feel the intimacy. 

“Well?”

“I like it.” He hands the glass back. “Doesn’t taste like alcohol.”

“Which makes it dangerous and this should be the last for me.” You look back to your plate, not completely done, but you’re thinking too much again and you can’t stomach any more. 

He stands and starts to clean up, shaking his head the moment you move to join. 

“I’m not good with just…not doing anything.” 

“I can see that.” He doesn’t have to seem so amused. “Makes it fun.” 

Mock-annoyed, you take your glass and walk to the windows so you can take in the view. The sun has been set for at least an hour now, and the lights from the city buildings are plentiful. You take a few deep breaths, realizing that now dinner is done, there is nothing hindering the ‘just do it’ portion of the night.

You hope he’s okay with a lot of foreplay because you, in the little you know about your body, need a lot of build up.

The door opens and shuts with him setting out the dishes for hotel staff to retrieve and soon you hear him rustling through his bag. You turn to see him pull out a zipped pouch. He winks at you.

“Gonna brush my teeth?”

“Oh. Oh sure.”

He chuckles at your response, and you force yourself to look back out over the city. Then in an almost panic, you finish the last of your wine, set down the glass and hurry to your overnight bag by the king-sized bed. You dig through to find your own toiletry bag, and tug it out. He comes out of the bathroom, glances over to see you’re no longer by the window. 

“I thought…” You feel so stupid. “I’d do the same.”

He smiles and gestures toward the bathroom. You hurry past him and shut the door behind you. You regret looking in the mirror as your face is decidedly not a poker face. Your nerves show in your eyes, the swollenness of chewing on your lips, the sheen of perspiration on your skin. 

You wipe under your eyes as your makeup is smeary before quickly brushing your teeth. You soak one of the pristine white washcloths and twist it so it’s damp and not dripping. You press it lightly to your face, hoping the cool will calm you down. You fiddle with your necklace, pulling the clasp to the back of your neck as though that will make any difference in how you appear to him. 

When you open the door, he’s standing by the end of the bed, hands in his pockets, looking at the two books you have on the nightstand. He points to them before speaking.

“Planning on doing a lot of reading?” He’s teasing, and that helps you calm down a little bit.

“I can’t go anywhere without at least one book. Even if the chances of getting to read are slim to none.” You mirror his posture, sliding your hands into the pockets of your jumpsuit.

“You okay?” he asks, voice gentle.

“Theoretically? Absolutely.” Your tone does nothing to confirm your words.

“Wanna sit with me?” He sits at the end of the bed and pats the space next to him. You hesitate. “Or we can sit on the couch?”

Dumb, you are dumb. The bed is the obvious final destination, but for whatever reason, the couch feels safer right now. 

“Please. The couch.”

He gets up and walks over to where you are still standing. He slips his hand in yours. 

“Come on, yeonin,” he says as he leads you back to the couch. He tugs you down next to him and you sit stiffly, hand still in his, other hand on the edge of the cushion like you’re about to escape. You force yourself to take a deep breath. “That’s better.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

You look at your hands entwined. His are, like the rest of him, really attractive; bigger than yours, veins prominent in the way that epitomizes sexy. 

“We don’t have to do anything tonight. We don’t have to do anything the entire time,” he reassures you, making you look up to his face. “This is for you. It can be on your timeline.”

“But…but if I don’t do it now…I don’t think I ever will.”

He lifts your hand to his lips, presses a kiss to your knuckles, causing you to stare at him. “I think you’re psyching yourself out.”

“Oh, I am absolutely doing that,” you agree. “I can’t seem to stop it.”

He purses his lips in thought, then draws your hand against them again. He has to hear the catch in your breathing because he smiles. 

“Let’s start with what you are comfortable with. What you’ve done previously. What you want to do. With me.” His voice drops at the end, and you feel it pulsate through your body. 

“Okay.”

He waits, patiently. You pull your hand out of his and turn toward him, trying to relax yourself enough that you don’t look primed to run away. You tuck one leg under you before taking his hand again. He smiles as you do, slotting his fingers with yours, watching you as you watch how your hand looks in his. 

“I like your hands,” you say softly.

“Yeah? Why?” 

You like how his voice doesn’t betray any judgement at your words, or offense. Just curiosity. When you meet his gaze, you can see the top of his cheeks are a little pink.

Is he blushing?

“Well, one, they’re very warm.” You laugh. “I like the way they’re shaped.” You trace his index finger as you continue. “I know masculinity and femininity are products of our society, but they’re very masculine.” You shrug before shivering.

“You cold?” he asks quickly, letting go of your hand to tug off his cardigan. He has it on your shoulders, pulling it closed, before you can even protest. His white t-shirt underneath stretches taut across his chest and shoulders, catching your attention for a good few seconds. 

“I…thank you,” you reply, burying yourself more in the soft fuzzy material. “I like this cardigan.”

“I thought you might.” He’s gone back to holding your hand, other arm propped against the back of the sofa. 

His words spark something. “Wait…do you pick your clothes based on your clients?”

He grins, leaning his head on his hand, eyes sparkling. “You really want me to talk about work?”

“Okay, I shouldn’t, but I’m really fascinated.”

“Well…yes. It’s a costume. Some clients want a type of escort who’s very put together, like in a suit.”

The image of him in a well-tailored suit pops into your head immediately. “I imagine you look stunning.”

The pink spreads in his cheeks and you are beyond amused that this man, with the job he has, could at all be embarrassed by something as simple as a compliment. 

“I…I have a few nice suits.” He clears his throat. “But dependent on what a client is looking for in an…encounter, dictates outfit as much as persona.”

“I wouldn’t have minded seeing you in a suit.”

He chuckles, squeezing your hand before letting it go and tapping a random rhythm on your leg. “I speculated, from your interview, the way you looked at the camera, that you probably prefer authenticity over any sort of glamour. Someone a bit more real.”

“And that’s a cardigan?”

“For me it is. I was grateful I didn’t have to use anything in my hair.” He laughs now and you reach to touch his hair instinctively, caught up in the coziness and comfort of him and the simple conversation. His hair is soft, without any hair product. You can feel his eyes on you as you let your fingers brush through the strands. 

“So…you’re telling me,” you ask, drawing back after another minute. “You are being yourself, right now?”

“As much as a person can be with someone they’ve just met. And hope to–” He looks up, searching for the word.

“To fuck?”

His eyes dart back to you. “Simply put. But I would like to imagine it’d be a bit nicer than that.” Neither of you say anything and you’re back to second-guessing yourself. “Hey,” he begins. “Come here.”

He takes both of your hands, pulling you so you are almost in his lap. He lets your hands fall to his shoulders, his own holding about the waist. The position means he’s looking up at you. 

His thighs are warm between your legs, his eyes accented by dark lashes. You draw one finger down the length of his nose. He scrunches it at your touch. 

“It’s big.”

You laugh at his self-deprecation and the underlying innuendo that was probably unmeant but who cares?

“It’s a very nice nose,” you reply, cheeky grin. He responds with his own smile. “It fits your face, so it works, right?”

“We all have our insecurities, right?”

You brush back his hair, thinking. “Some of us have so many it’s hard to see what’s not tainted in dislike.” 

His hands tighten at your waist. “Tell me something you like about yourself.”

“Oh my god, you sound like my college counselor, who had me write five good things for every bad thing I said about myself.”

His smile is softer and one hand slides up your back, under the cardigan. “I’m asking for just one.”

“As much as it gets me into trouble,” you state slowly, your own hands mapping the journey of his shoulders to his neck and back again. “I like that I’m honest. That’s my default.”

“Another.”

“You said just one.”

“I did, but I’m greedy. Another and it has to be shallow.”

“Shallow?”

“Your looks.”

You frown at him, but he’s so pretty like this, looking up at you like he has all the time in the world, that he’s not on the clock. That this entire experience isn’t funded by your savings account and a plan months in the making. 

“I…”

“You can do it.”

You slap his shoulder and he laughs. “Do not patronize me.”

“I’m not. I’m encouraging.”

“Please.”

“Another good thing, about you.” His hand that had slid up your back has now drifted down, resting right at the curve of your ass. 

“My eyes?”

“What about them?”

“God, you are my college counselor.”

His smile is unrepentant. 

“They’re nice.”

His expression morphs into mild annoyance. “They’re beautiful. I like the color. And how much they show. You’d be shit at poker.”

“I’ll have you know that I mask my feelings decently well in everyday life. I’m just tired.”

He nods. 

“You’re not going to ask me to say another nice thing, are you?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

You lean down slightly, lessening the distance between your faces. His eyes don’t flicker away. 

“Are you trying to distract me?”

“Maybe?”

“I like when you’re like this.”

“Like what?”

“Confident. It’s sexy.” His voice drops lower with these words and you belatedly realize that in your effort to evade having to say another nice thing about yourself, you’ve invaded his personal space (not that he looks like he’s bothered by it) and if this was a movie or any type of story, your next move would be to kiss him. 

Which means now you’re looking at his lips. They, like everything you’ve seen of him so far (oh my god, you are going to see all of him at some point if this experience is at all successful) are beautiful, perfectly-shaped, enticing. 

He says your name in the same low voice, a promised whisper. “Kiss me.”

You swallow nervously. “It’s been a minute.”

“All the reason to practice on me.”

He’s good at this. Softening a moment that feels like too much for you. Making you smile when you feel overwhelmed and doubtful.

“Use you?”

“Please.” His hand slips farther down and there’s no denying that he has moved to less than appropriate places. 

You let your eyes close as you cover the last bit of space between you and him, your lips touching his so lightly it feels like a wisp of a daydream. He doesn’t let you get away with it though. Hand cupping the back of your neck, he keeps you there, the kiss lengthening and lingering in a way that brings back the shivers you thought the cardigan had dispelled. 

When he draws back, your breathing is a bit labored. He caresses where his hands sit, neck and ass, watching you carefully. You expect him to say something, maybe about you needing some practice for sure, but he doesn’t. He just watches before moving back in.

“Open up, yeonin,” he whispers, and your lips part instinctively at his words. Eyes close and you feel his tongue trace the inside of your lips before sliding in to stroke yours. 

You whimper and his hand tightens its grip on your ass. You run your fingers through his hair before moving closer. It shouldn’t surprise you that he’s good at kissing…it’s probably a requirement of his job. But where so many can use their tongue to excess, he’s found the perfect balance of tongue, lips, and teeth.

When you decide to be a bit bold and nibble on his lower lip, his hand tightens, a sharp exhale. 

“Confident,” he murmurs against your mouth before leaving it to press kisses to your jaw line, down to your neck. There’s a light nip and you gasp, your own fingers digging into his shoulders. He squeezes the back of your neck gently. 

“Chris,” you breathe, and he draws back, looking up at you. His lips are swollen, pink and plump. The color high on his cheeks, his hair even more tousled. 

“What is it, baby,” he asks softly, the quiet of the hotel room overwhelming. Should you have put on music? Isn’t that often the precursor to a night like this? His kiss on your lips is quick and almost careless. “Stay with me. I can see you thinking too hard.”

You half-laugh, embarrassed, loosening your hands and starting to sit back on your heels practically. He holds you firm so you can’t put any distance. 

“Don’t. Don’t move away.” He rubs your back, soothing. “What is it?”

“I just…you’re right. I’m thinking again.”

He smiles, leaning in so your noses touch. “Kiss me again. You’re good at it.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” His smile widens when you swoop back in. He lets you lead, eager to taste him, eager to enjoy this moment without thinking it’ll end in minutes. You play with his hair, while he kisses you back, tongue curling with yours. It takes you a moment or three, realizing that his hold on your ass, tightens ever so much, ever so slowly closer until when you break from his lips to suck a mark on his neck, his hips buck right up against you. 

And you freeze. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, still in that soft soft voice. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you breathe. 

“Scared?” You’ve tucked your face into the curve of his neck, breathing him in, trying to relax. 

“It’s dumb. It…you feel good. It’s just…surprising. I’m sorry.”

He kisses the side of your head, the hand again rubbing circles on your back. “Don’t apologize.” He waits. “Look at me.”

You lift your head, your face burning with humiliation. He cups your face in his hand. 

“Your pace, okay? If you’ve never been with someone, it would be a little scary.” He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “But if it worried you at all, I do want you.”

You take a deep breath, watching his face as though there might be something to tell you he isn’t being truthful. 

“You’re way too nice.”

He chuckles, kissing you softly. “I like being nice. I like being nice to you. I like listening to the sounds you make when you’re excited, how you move closer when turned on.” He stares at you with no shame. “I like that it’s me making you do those things.”

Your cheeks burn. 

“Come on,” he says, and without any sort of visual effort, he lifts you. You squeak, legs wrapping around his waist. He’s laughing at your shock, carrying you toward the bed. You can feel your breathing shorten as he lays you down with ease. He regards you, rubbing one hand on your thigh that starts to relax, his other against the mattress, so his entire weight isn’t on you. 

You stare up at him. 

“What are you thinking now?” 

“That I’m warm.”

His grin is infectious. “Probably ought to get rid of that cardigan.” He rolls to his side, gently tugging the garment off your shoulders, down your arms. You push yourself up so he can pull it from under you. You fall back, the bed bouncing. He waits for a second. 

“Still warm?” he asks, fingers tracing the buttons in front of your jumpsuit. His eyes flick to yours. “We still good?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not entirely convinced by that,” he teases, leaning to kiss you just as he undoes the top button. You focus on the feel of his mouth, the wet heat, even as it leaves your lips, trailing down to your neck and then the middle of your chest as he undoes the rest of the buttons. “Pretty,” he comments when your bra is revealed by the unbuttoning. He looks up at you through his lashes. 

“Pretty,” you repeat, tugging on the shoulder of his t-shirt. He laughs as he sits up and does the very attractive guy thing, of pulling it off from behind his neck. “Oh.”

He raises his eyebrows, looking down at his half-naked state. “I mean, I did have dinner, so…” There’s humor, but you hear the self-deprecation. 

It’s instinct, you sitting up and reaching out to touch him. “The ‘oh’ was pure admiration, Chris. Like, you are stunning.” Your hands trace down his arms. “I…it’s a little intimidating, honestly. I know that for your job…both jobs probably…you need to look perfect…but perfection is daunting.” You don’t think that your hands are boldly caressing his bare skin, until you feel the top of his jeans at your fingers. Your eyes widen and you pull away as though burnt.

He’s giggling, grabbing your hands and placing them back on his shoulders. “Carte blanche, remember. God, you’re cute.” He keeps his smile even when the giggles subside, carefully nudging your clothing off your shoulders. He draws one finger up the valley between your breasts. 

“I am not perfect-looking.”

He doesn’t look away from you, eyes heating at your bare skin, his hand resting on your arm. You start to pull away, fidget at the quiet and his lengthy perusal. His hand tightens, keeping you still. 

“Chris.”

His eyes move up to yours. “Stunning.”

You don’t believe him, why would you when he looks like he does? But there’s something in his gaze that makes you think he believes it, and in matters of whether or not someone is beautiful, it really is in the eye of the beholder, right?

And he is beholding, currently. 

It’s too much for you at this point, his acute focus on you, so you move in to kiss him again, more than happy to get back to the familiar. He returns kiss for kiss, and you fall backward into the mattress and pillows, his body on yours, a pleasant weight. When he leaves your lips this time, you think you’ll feel him against your neck, leaving marks; but the wet heat of his mouth encases your covered breast. The gasp you let out is barely audible, the sharp inhale of air. It sends a frisson through you, as his hand slips under the still open fabric covering your hips. The combinations of heat from his mouth and his hand overwhelms, and you can’t stop shuddering. You make some nonsensical sound when he proceeds to lavish the same attention on your other breast. The wet lace and satin scratches in the most indulgent way. 

“Do something for me?” he whispers, his breath chilling your damp skin. 

“What?”

“Since it’s new, use the stoplight system? Red means full stop. Yellow means a pause, perhaps take a break, and green means you’re good, not scared, not hurting.” His eyes zero into yours without flickering away.

You nod, breathless. “Okay. I…I can do that.”

“Cause I’m gonna touch you now, and you gotta tell me what works and what doesn’t.” He kisses your nose. His fingers sneak under your underwear, slowly like he believes you’re still skittish (you are, but you also want something down there). He’s so gentle, kissing you as he drags the pad of his finger along your entrance. “Color?” he says against your mouth.

“Huh?”

He lifts his head a bit more, smiling down at you. “What color?”

“Oh. Oh! Green.”

He chuckles, murmuring, “Cute,” before going back to kissing you. His thumb presses on your clit and your hips buck. “Easy,” he says, his other hand on your hip to hold you down. 

“Chris…that…that feels good.”

He does the same movement again, your hips try, but his hand is heavy to keep you steady. “That?”

You narrow your gaze, even though you’re quivering with his touch. “You’re making fun of me.”

He leans in, smile as wide as can be, dimples deep. His nose brushes yours. 

“Absolutely.” 

You raise up to meet his lips, fingers seeking his hair. He hums, his fingers playing with you, as though seeking the destination immediately isn’t the point. You trace down his neck to his shoulders and arms.

“You know,” you begin, gasping when he slides one finger into you. His smile is so arrogant. 

“You were saying?”

“I…” 

He circles your clit with the barest of touches, his other finger curling up inside. Your breath hitches.

“Breathe, baby. Yeonin, you’re okay, just breathe.” His gaze is soft on you as you can’t help but close your eyes tight as the liquid pull of pleasure grows. You feel like a band drawn tight, seconds away from breaking. You feel his lips on yours, careful before speaking. “Don’t be scared, just let go.”

It ramps up, the tension building and building, and you are gasping, opening your eyes to see that his gaze is resolute on you.  

When his second finger slips in, curling with the other, you shatter. 

He licks into your mouth, as you have no voice to make a sound. You’re only aware of the sensations; his tongue on yours, your fingers biting into the skin of his arms, how your legs tremble. 

How the quiet and ease flickers back into your brain after the quivers lessen, and the muscles ease. 

His fingers are still in you, still touching you and you shake your head. 

“Too much?”

“Yellow.”

He pulls his hand away, quietly adjusting your underwear. The hand that held your hip slides up to your stomach, warm and comforting. 

You take a deep breath, finding his eyes. “Wow.”

He laughs, falling down next to you, no longer propping himself up. If your face was hot with exertion and arousal earlier, it’s now hot with embarrassment. 

“That’s the best feedback I’ve gotten,” he says, his hand cupping your waist, so he can roll you toward him. 

“I doubt that.”

He leans in to kiss you quick. “How do you feel?”

“Both exhausted and energized. I think.”

“Sounds about right.” He rolls to his back, looking up at the ceiling. You push yourself to your elbows, unable to look away from him. He eventually glances over. “Yes?”

“That’s not it, is it?”

He snorts, trying not to laugh too loudly. “Not at all. But I thought you might want a break.”

Your gaze moves from his beautiful face to his arms. “I remember what I was going to say before you…”

“Before I…?”

“Shut up.”

He’s snickering. 

“I was going to say how it’s wrong that they only talk about curves in regards to women. Men have curves too.” You smooth your fingers along his arm, wrist to shoulder. “Just as beautiful.” 

His snickering fades. “Really?”

“Arms…jaw line.” You trace each as you speak. “Lips.” Which part when your finger makes contact. You meet his eyes for a second before hoping it’s an invitation, slip your finger in. His lips wrap around it, his teeth dragging against the pad of your finger. “Oh god.”

He smiles before sucking then releasing. He sits up, finger under your chin so you’re facing him. He kisses you lightly, before toying with the last button on your jumpsuit. “I think we should remove this.”

As much as you’d like to see more of him, completely baring yourself is something you haven’t done outside of your own bedroom, and in a doctor’s office. But you can do this. “Okay..if…” You gesture to his jeans. “Equality and all that.”

“For equality,” he teases, moving to stand at the end of the bed. You follow, reaching for the button on his jeans. “You want to?”

“Yes.” You focus on your fingers working properly, though you’re still a bit shaky from your…orgasm. At some point, you are going to have to process through that. His hands cover yours. “I can do it, I’m just a bit jumpy.”

You feel his lips on your forehead. “You know, we don’t have to do this tonight. I could just eat you out.”

Your head shoots up in surprise. He seems unbothered by how casually he talks about oral sex. 

“But you’re…” With your hands near and your attention at the fastening of his pants, his arousal is more than obvious. 

“Yes, I am.” He doesn’t let go of your hands, even as you undo the button and pull down the zipper. There’s a strain to his voice when your fingers unthinkingly brush him. There’s a twitch and you find yourself fascinated by it. “But this is easily dealt with if you want. You’re still a virgin, but you know what an orgasm feels like. So, we could just stop–”

“No,” you interrupt, looking up at him, letting your hand stroke him through his underwear. There’s another twitch, and his face tenses slightly. After being so completely undone by his touch, you want to ‘return the favor.’ See him undone. “Please?”

Your hands are bolder, tugging down his jeans so you can cup him easier. He breathes sharply through his nose, head dropping slightly. 

“You do not have to say please, I’m more than willing.”

You peer up at him. His eyes are half-mast, another edged inhale. You push down his jeans completely, letting him step out of them, kicking them away. He wears black boxer-briefs that are straining currently. You reach for them, but he wraps his hands around your wrists, halting you. 

“No?”

“Equality,” he says, the amusement back in his voice. 

Right, you still have your jumpsuit on, well, half on. 

He lets go, moving a step closer so you can feel his body heat, smell whatever fresh cologne he wears, heightening his natural scent. He slides his hands between your skin and the jumpsuit, hands so warm you shiver despite not being chilly. Your clothing falls, following the journey of his hands, hips to thighs to ankles. He’s at your feet, looking up at you; those eyes so dark, you can’t see the warm mahogany. 

You step out of the pile of fabric and he tosses it over the back of the chair several feet away. 

You are essentially without clothing, your underwear (hand-picked for this weekend as you figured you might as well try something pretty) covering enough, but not enough. If he senses this, he doesn’t indicate, walking back to you and cupping your face in his big hands, tipping your head up for a kiss. You welcome this, the heat of his mouth. It’s been only minutes since he’s kissed you, but you crave like an addict who’s going through withdrawal. 

Stroking his bare back has you humming against his lips (how could a back feel so good? But here you are). You can feel his smile, his tremble and goosebumps as the room isn’t exactly at temperature for as little as you two are wearing.

“Cold?” you ask softly. He pecks your lips before drawing back to make eye contact. His hands stay on your face, and you feel cherished, which a voice in your brain tells you is stupid as you’re paying this man and his company to make you feel like that. 

He’s a really good actor.

“A bit,” he replies to your question. He brushes his nose with yours. “I’ll grab a condom.”

Your eyes widen, but you nod, immediately colder when he lets go. He sits at the end of the bed, rummaging in his bag. You grab something out of yours, your face hot with embarrassment. He looks over at what you offer. 

“I…uh…did research and a friend recommended this.”

“Lube?” he asks, taking it and glancing at the label. “Okay.” He’s smiling at you, like you’re funny, which might be true even if you aren’t trying to be. 

You sit on the bed, in the middle, a bit at a loss now that you have nothing in your hands. “I would have bought condoms, but there’s so many kinds and sizes and I was worried I might offend you with getting the wrong size. I wouldn’t even know.”

He looks over his shoulder, still smiling. “Tends to be a required thing I bring.”

“Of course.”

He, having retrieved said prophylactic, crawls to where you’re sat (the bed is king-sized and it feels monstrously large). He sits next to you, cross-legged like you are. 

“Again, we don’t have to. I can get you off as much as you want without–”

“It’s weird,” you say, glancing at him. “Just talking about this. I’ve talked in theoreticals about sex my whole life and now, it’s just…it’s such a normal thing, right? Just this thing a lot of people do but I haven’t.” 

He bumps shoulders with you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m going off on a tangent again. I’m sure it’s annoying.”

He links his hand with yours, resting them on his knee. “I’m not annoyed. I like talking to you. And I want you to be comfortable and have a good time, not feel pressured or coerced in any way. We can talk all night.”

“No. I mean, that actually sounds like fun with you.”

His answering smile is brilliant.

“But…I want to. I’m just nervous.” You lift his hand, still wrapped around yours, to your lips. You meet his gaze. “I’m so glad you chose me.”

The fondness melts into something hotter in his eyes, pupils dilating. He eases you onto your back, kissing you softly, mouth at your mouth, then your neck and collarbone. You squirm, as he hovers over you, raising up to check on you. It’s criminal how good he looks, hair messy (from your hands), lips swollen (from your lips). He toys with the clasp of your bra, his fingers brushing the edges of your curves. 

“Can I?”

You nod, your breathing hindered by how easily he’s wound you up again, with only kisses. He undoes the clasp without difficulty, gently peeling off the lace from your breast, exposing them to his regard. 

With a glance at your face, another check in, he lowers to suck on one nipple, the feeling entirely different without fabric hindering. You hiss out his name, hands scrambling to grab his arms, something to ground you. His chuckles vibrate against your skin and you moan more wantonly than you believed you were capable of. He moves to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. Your fingers dig into his arms; you’ll leave marks.

You hope you leave some sort of impression on this man. 

Once he’s done twisting you up, he removes your bra, tossing it aside before snapping the band of your underwear, causing you to jolt.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Please. Yours too?” Your words aren’t more than whispers. He smirks, before shedding his and tugging down yours. You stare, openly and blatantly at his nudity. 

“I’m debating on telling you whether I’m average or not,” he teases, making you look away from his cock to his face. 

“Does it matter? Really?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” you say, prompted by the visual you have. 

His cheeks, already pink from arousal, deepen all the more and you laugh. He makes a face at you before moving back to kissing you. 

“Aren’t you just trouble,” he murmurs, slipping the foil packet into your hand. “Put it on?”

You push yourself back up to rip open the packet, and roll it on him. You don’t draw back, fascinated by the immense heat he radiates, how delicate the skin is, even under the latex. He twitches at your exploration. 

“It feels okay?”

“Feels great,” the words on a heavy exhale. He does, however, take your hand away, assisting you back onto the bed. “So…there’s a lot of ways to do this, and I would like to try them all with you, but this is probably the easiest for your first time.”

“Missionary?”

“A classic,” he jokes before his expression smoothes into something more serious. “You can tell me to stop at any time.”

“Green, yellow, red.”

“Exactly.” Moving himself, so he’s kneeling between your legs, he squeezes out the lube into his hands, warming it before sliding it onto his cock, and then to your cunt. You jump at the feel of it, but his hands haven’t forgotten how to play you and that build that you felt not that long ago, starts its climb yet again. 

“Chris,” you reach out for him, shuddering as he toys with your clit. He leans down so you can grab him, feel that smooth back. His mouth attaches to yours, as his fingers circle, press and increase the anticipation. You reach for him, wrapping your hand around his dick, intent because even with no experience, you clench; your body instinctively craving something to fill you. He curses at your touch. “No?”

“You’re good, baby. Hand feels good,” he reassures, lips and teeth sloppily moving against yours. “Still green?” You tense when you feel him at your entrance.

“Yes. Green, please.” You want so desperately. 

He pushes in, incrementally. “Breathe through it. You have to relax.” He’s watching you so carefully as he continues. You stare back, he seems blurry right now. The stretch is borderline painful, but you still want it. Your hand slides to his hip and then his ass, where you grip hard. 

“Color?” He seems so calm, but his voice is labored, tension coloring it. 

“Green.” Can he even hear you? You don’t know if you’ve even given voice or just mouthed it. “Fuck. I’m so full of you.”

He curses again. “You can’t say shit like that.”

You blink away some of the haze, to focus on him. Veins bulging in his neck, and arms. “I can’t?”

“I mean…” He takes a deep breath, expression softening slightly. “You feel so good, but I need to be careful with you.”

“I do?”

He laughs brokenly at how pleased you sound. “So fucking cute,” he mutters. “I’m gonna move, okay?”

“Okay.”

He pulls back, not as slowly, but still with patience you can’t fathom. The stroke, how he slides against your core is delicious and strange and wonderful. He pushes back in. 

“Feels good,” you sigh. 

He hums in response, repeating the motion before chuckling. Your eyes shoot open as he looks down at you. 

“What?”

“Helps if you move too.”

You’re already very hot from everything, but you can feel the blood rush to your face. He’s still giggling and moves to kiss you.

“You’re okay, I’m just giving you a few pointers. You can absolutely just lay there if you want. It’ll probably feel better though if you move.”

“I guess I’m a bit rubbish at this.”

“Nah, just learning.” He brushes his nose against yours. “No one is an expert their first time.” 

As you clench and try to find a rhythm with your hips that matches his, “I bet you were.”

He laughs, strained but joyous. “I definitely wasn’t.” He keeps himself propped up with one hand on the bed, but his other returns to your clit, the mere touch pushing that climb again. There’s a moment when your hips align and you just know you did it right, but it’s half a second and you find you’re off again, especially with his attention on your clit. 

“Chris,” you whine. 

“You can let go, yeonin. It’s fine.”

When you break, it’s different than the first time, not as intense, but lovely and shattering. The rolls through you, tremors and muscles relaxing. 

No wonder everyone does this. 

“Stay with me,” you hear him. You open your eyes to see that he’s still moving, his thrusts more erratic. You squeeze him, out of some instinct you didn’t know you had. He groans. “Yeah, that’s good.” You don’t feel like you have much strength after a second orgasm, but you roll your hips and clench as best you can as he speeds up. 

It’s fascinating to watch him climax, the tension in the neck veins, the jaw muscles tight, the furrow in his forehead. It’s a different kind of beauty, heightened by the knowledge that you, or your body at least, did that. He falls on top of you, his hands trying to keep his weight off, but you wrap yourself around him as he shudders from release. 

After several minutes, when it seems like his trembling has ceased, you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. “Color?” 

He chuckles. “Fucking green.” He kisses the top of your chest before lifting up to see you. “You?”

“That was really…yeah.”

He grins, boyish charm. “Good.” He stares at you for a few seconds. “You look a little sleepy.”

“Yeeeeah. Maybe.”

He laughs before rolling off and out of you. You wince at the loss. He disposes of the condom before tugging you off the bed. 

“Did we ruin the comforter?” you ask, standing but a bit wobbly. 

“Probably not,” he says, pulling the comforter off and onto the floor. He wraps an arm around you, at ease in his nakedness (your brain is foggy still and you just now are realizing how naked you are too). “Pajamas?”

“Yes…” you slur a little, exhaustion from all your nerves today, anticipation and worry catching up. He sits you down on the sheets before going into the bathroom. He returns with a wet washcloth. “Oh, I can…”

“Hush,” he admonishes, cleaning you up reverently. He tosses the washcloth on top of the discarded comforter and then goes to your bag and pulls out your faded t-shirt and soft flannel pants. 

“I…I have a…lingerie nightgown in there.”

He shakes his head, coming to kneel in front of you. He slides on the pants, then the t-shirt over your head. 

“Something comfortable. You can show me the nightgown tomorrow night.” He pulls back the sheets and gets you settled in. You curl to your side, eyes closed against the pillow. You hear him move around the room, the few lamps that were on turn off. It feels like seconds or days until he slides in next to you. He touches your side lightly, saying your name. 

“Hmm?” you reply, before reaching to grab his hand and wrap it around your middle. There’s a half-laugh. 

“Guess you like cuddling, too?”

You make an affirmative sound as he curves around you, his lips touching the back of your neck. You shiver and lace your fingers with his. 

“Chris?” you say a few minutes later, the threat of sleep looming.

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Thank you. I want to make sure I say it.” 

He doesn’t say anything, but kisses your shoulder. “You’re welcome, yeonin. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You can’t wait. 

---

part two

---

© yoongihan 2025. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans. 

[ilovecatfr]

HOW TO CHANNEL SOMEONE

{or channel memories from your dr/people/higher self}

Channeling is connecting with someone’s energy or consciousness, allowing you to receive memories, messages, or answers.

There's a lot of ways to channel someone but I'm going to go through couple of them;

Methods: meditation and visualization/automatic writing/channeling through dreams/using a necklace or a pendulum

{a little tip}

Relax and trust the process. Often, memories and answers will come to you naturally when you're not actively trying to force them. Pay attention to sudden thoughts, feelings, or deja vu moments—they might be glimpses from your DR. Be patient.

1. MEDITATION AND VISUALIZATION

Sit or lie down in a quiet space.

Close your eyes and visualize any place you want.

Picture the person from your DR you want to connect with. Imagine their presence vividly, including their voice, appearance, and energy. Or if you want to channel your higher self you can simple ask.

In your mind or outloud, ask them to share a memory or whatever you want.

2. AUTOMATIC WRITING

Grab a pen and notebook or you can use your phone/anything you can write on.

Quiet your mind and think of the person you want to channel.

Set the intention: “I invite [Name] to share their memories with me/answer my questions”

Begin writing whatever comes to mind, without overthinking.

3. CHANNELING THROUGH DREAMS

Before bed, set the intention to meet the person in your dreams and ask for whatever you want.

Visualize the person clearly as you fall asleep, focusing on their energy and presence. Or ask a question for specific person/higher self.

{tip; set the intention to remember the dream vividly or keep something you can write it in as soon as you wake up}

4. CHANNELING WITH NECKLACE OR PENDULUM

{remember: necklace must have some kind of pendant on it}

Cleanse the tool: Run it under water, pass it through incense smoke, or visualize white light surrounding it {OPTIONAL}

Sit in a quiet space and relax. Set your intention: Hold the necklace or pendulum and say, “I call [Name] to connect with me”

Determined the movements example: back and fourth=yes. Side to side=no. Circle= maybe.

{you can write it on a paper and put it under it as your channel}

Begin channeling, and if you want to make sure it your person ask questions they will know to answer to.

You can even put a keyboard under it and have it move towards the letters as it makes a sentence.

At the end you can say goodbye.

LITTLE ADD: HOW I PERSONALLY CHANNEL AND CONNECT TO PEOPLE FROM MY DR EVERYDAY

{tips; you can make sure the pendant on your necklace is heavy enough/be in a room with no wind/ put your elbows on a hard surface as you do this to keep your hand steady/trust that connection will guide your hand.}

SOME AFFIRMATIONS YOU CAN SAY:

SAFETY

1. My boundaries are strong, and only safe connections are allowed in my space.

2. The universe (God or whoever you believe in) supports and protects me at all times.

3. Only energies that align with my highest good can reach me.

4. I am grounded, centered, and completely safe.

CHANNELLING

1. I easily connect with [Name] from and receive.

2. I am open to communication with [Name], and it flows effortlessly.

3. I am fully aligned with [Name] and those within it.

4. Memories from my DR flow to me naturally and effortlessly.

Focus on the people you want; their energy, your relationship, scenarios... and basically relax and set the intention or ask them to be present in your cr by sending your messages/signs or whatever you want. I keep this connection open and they are welcomed every day to send me messages.

A little warning:

Don't let this take over your shifting journey; remember shifting and experiencing it first hand is much better then just having memories or talking to people from your dr. Yes this can be great motivation but don't let it take over.

This is not to scare you but to warn you and remind you of what can you really have:)

<3

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

my love if i may request a whiskey with dbf!joel or dbf!bucky with the prompt “i’ve wanted this for so long” and mayhaps if it’s not too much to ask for but some breeding kink👀👉🏻👈🏻

Promises, Promises.

warnings - smut. cursing.

I figured I'd make this dbf!bucky, because i've done a dbf!joel fic for this celebration already. y'all, I read the words dad's best friend and go fucking feral. this one got away from me.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

You're the last person Bucky expected to be at his front door at 3am.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Locked myself out of my goddamn house, and my parents are still on vacation. Can I crash here tonight? Please?"

Who is he to turn down an offer that tempting?

"Course. Come on, it's too cold for you to be stood out here."

The two of you sit down on his couch, settling in to watch some TV.

"Bucky Barnes. Are you watching a romcom?"

He blushes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. They're my guilty pleasure."

"It makes me like you more, if anything," you grin. He can't help but smile back at you, less embarrassed now.

"Look, my love life is fuckin' terrible. I live vicariously through these cheesy films right now."

"You? Terrible love life? Those two phrases don't usually go in the same sentence."

You're teasing him. Seeing if you can get a rise, hit the right button.

"Oh, shut it. Just because you're on a new date every week."

"I'm... what?"

"Your Dad seems to think you're dating a lot."

You quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips.

"Is that so?"

"I'm only telling you what I've heard, honey."

He crosses his arms across his chest, biceps threatening to break free from the confines of his t shirt.

"He's wrong."

"Is that so?"

You roll your eyes.

"I have a friend, he's a guy. My Dad automatically assumes we're dating because we hang out. But we're not."

"And why not?"

"I don't know, I guess he's just..." you debate your answer, realising it's now or never. "He's not old enough for me. Not mature enough."

Bucky bites his lip, eyes scanning your face.

"He's your age."

"Exactly. Boys my age don't know shit."

He laughs, but it's dark and low, something brewing beneath the surface.

"You always were too smart for your own good, huh?"

Bucky's thigh is pressing into yours, the warmth from his skin seeping through. His rough fingertips glide across your arm, slow and soft. He's testing the waters.

"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs, barely audible. "Neither should you."

"But I do," you whisper. "So fucking bad."

"Me too."

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, smashing his lips to yours. You grip at his hair, his biceps, his shirt - anything you can get a hold of. You feel like you're dreaming, your filthiest thoughts coming into fruition.

He pulls you into his lap so you're straddling his hips, grinding down and panting into his mouth. You're both breathless, but neither of you want to be the first to pull away.

Bucky rips your shirt over your head, instantly attacking your chest with kisses. He's marking you up, claiming you as his. You should be worried about the repercussions, but you're not.

You pull his shirt off and rake your nails down his front, grinning when he shivers. Suddenly, Bucky stands up, setting you on your feet.

"Strip."

You blink at him, processing.

"Strip, baby. I won't tell you again."

You shimmy your pants down your legs, your underwear going too. Your mouth waters as you watch him undress, admiring the angles and smooth ridges of him. A Greek God.

Bucky stalks over to you and hooks a foot behind your ankle, sending you both flying onto the rug on the floor. He cushions your fall, not letting go of you once. Running two fingers through your wet heat, he groans.

"All for me, pretty girl? What did I do to deserve somethin' this sweet, huh?"

"Need you," you whine. "Please, Buck."

"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, lining himself up. "Fuck, you're a dream."

You both gasp as he slides home, your back arching and his jaw falling slack. Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, the weight grounding you back down to Earth.

"Need you to move," you choke out. "Fuck, I need it, Buck. Please."

"Oh you need it, do you?" he smirks. "My needy girl."

He snaps his hips into yours in long, careful glides, very aware of the effect he has on you. Before long, his restraint snaps, and his thrusts get harder, quicker, more frantic.

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he's muttering under his breath. "Make you mine. You want that? To have everyone know who you belong to?"

You're nodding rapidly, tears gathering in your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

"How are we gonna keep this a secret if you're pregnant, huh?"

The thought makes you moan, a breathy, gutteral sound.

"You like that? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck, I'll give you everything you ask for. I'll buy you a house and knock you up, you'll never want for anything."

His low, honeyed words throw you over the edge, squeezing and clenching around him. Bucky groans, deep and rumbled, the sound vibrating through the both of you. You find your releases together, panting and out of breath.

"House first."

"Huh?" he breathes, raising his head from your chest.

"Buy me a house first. Kids second. Maybe marriage in between."

He laughs, floating and content. You both know he meant what he said, not just a heat of the moment confession.

You stay wrapped up in each other for hours, on the rug in front of the fire.

You'll deal with the repercussions later.

[jennamoran]

@horatiovonbecker writes:

@jennamoran Incidentally, I feel like you might have some interesting thoughts on how to pick and/or recognize a thematic statement, though maybe it should be its own post.

RPG campaigns are a form of serial fiction, really, and while serial fiction can definitely benefit from picking your themes and metaphors and statements and core setting elements and such in advance, ultimately a lot of what really shines is developed in the process of creation. A bunch of stuff gets thrown at the wall in a hurry. (In an RPG campaign that wall is the players' picture of the real and fictional worlds and what matters.) Some of what gets thrown at that wall sticks. It stands out. It gets more attention. More callbacks. More thinking. It has a greater influence on the rest of what happens. This repeats. Eventually you have a picture of what the story is "about" that isn't necessarily what the author (here, the players and GM) "intended."

If you're writing a non-serialized work of fiction, you might get to this point and start revising front-to-back so that everything fits those themes. You might even do this multiple times. But in a serial work of fiction, all you can really do is recognize a few of the most important things before the end---some from the beginning, some learned along the way---and resolve those in a satisfying fashion. (Or, of course, and you can do this in RPGs too, go on indefinite hiatus, end abruptly while doing your best, or force everything to end in the way originally planned even though it's unsatisfying.)

I think of an RPG as a medium. There's no clean line between medium and message, of course, no clean difference between a game that prescribes a thematic message players can only rewrite by breaking the game, a game that has a few loose messages and leaves the rest to the players, and a game that thinks that it's universal and says nothing at all. But I tend to think of an RPG that I'm writing as a medium for players to use to create stories. Even if I'm trying to say something myself, I'm not trying to say it through the vehicle of your game. Nor am I expecting you to come up with something intentionally---I just figure that if you shake the players and pour out their brains onto the uneven canvas of the game, you'll wind up with a piece of art that's worth seeing.

To be clear, I think that RPGs that do try to say something through the medium of your campaign are pretty neat; I was even a bit jealous sometimes of people who do that kind of thing until I made one like that earlier this year and discovered that the main reason I don't do that is that I don't want to.

... but anyway, if you ever see me casually pushing all the artistic design work for a game onto the players' shoulders, that's what's going on; it's not that I expect professional post-editing perfection from players, it's not that I have nothing to say myself, it's that I am personally really interested in the process of players saying a bunch of stuff that is often not that important in itself but which provides a rich supply of stuff that they can draw upon in the next moment, next scene, and next session to go "yeah, okay, let's build on that a bit" and add contextual weight to their next action, until by the end they've said something they didn't know they wanted to say but did from the start.

cf @shencomix 's classic:

This doesn't happen because someone wrote a book on how to write webcomics that includes a fixed rule telling you that at the end you have to fight God---

unless someone did, I guess?---

But because ultimately nobody writes webcomics except as a cry of rage and horror against the order of the cosmos, so little threads of that theme show up in the first ten comics, and then get amplified again and again before the end. That's the phenomenon I'm trying to capture in most of my games, and in turn the reason why people who look to my RPGs for a clear description of how to write a webcomic only wind up confused.

[finelinefae]

camping [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]

synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry and Y/N leave the air base to go on a camping trip in July and their feelings are all over the place.

word count: 13.2k (!?)

contains: friends to lovers, opposites attract, violence, nightmares, flirting, smoking, fluff, smut (breeding kink, size kink, she's on top, cockwarming *if you squint*), forced proximity

this is part 2 of the aviator, you can read part 1 here

. . .

“Leave me alone Harry!” Y/N stormed several paces in front of him, hugging her arms around herself to try and keep herself warm. 

“Birdy, c’mon now, it’s not what y’ think it is.” Harry kept his distance behind her but had been following her home since she stormed off after she’d caught him with her housemate, Nancy. 

“Quit calling me that! And will you stop following me?” She spun round and he immediately froze in his steps. 

“Promised I’d walk y’ home,” He shrugged, “Not gonna let y’ walk home in the dark alone.”

“I’d probably be better off,” Y/N huffed, crossing her arms.

“Will y’ let me explain?” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. Y/N opened her mouth to say something but he carried on talking, “I won’t quit following y’ if that’s what y’ gonna say and the view of the back of y’ head is just as pretty as the front so there’s no way y’ gonna stop me. I just… Will you let me explain? Please?” 

Y/N scoffs like she can’t believe what she’s hearing right now. What would it take for him to take a message and leave her be? “You’re not used to hearing the word no are you?” 

“I respect it but doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop trying. God, especially not with you.” Every part of him seemed serious. Y/N’s shoulders dropped and he took it as a sign to continue, “Me and Nancy we have history tha’s for sure,” He started and the words made Y/N’s chest ache, “But we only slept together a couple times before Christmas tha’s all. She came out and found me smoking and I realised she was a ‘lil drunk. I tried to pull her off me but she wasn’t having it, said she saw me outside with y’ and got upset.”

Y/N frowned, unsure of whether to believe him or not, “Listen, I know you’ve heard things about me but-” He dug his heel into the ground and chuckled lightly, “I ain’t ever felt the way I did back there when I kissed y’ Y/N and I’m not jus’ saying that.” 

Y/N felt some of the anger dissipate from her body, replaced by pure frustration. She hadn't come to Offutt to get tangled up in a mess with a man she barely knew, yet here she was. Nancy's revelation about having her sights set on a man hit Y/N like a ton of bricks. If she had known it was Harry, she might never have kissed him in the first place. She hardly knew Harry beyond their brief interactions and the hearsay from her housemates. How could she trust him? Yet, despite her doubts, there was one undeniable truth: the kiss they had shared lingered vividly in her mind. The taste of peppermint and cigarettes still clung to her lips, a tangible reminder of their brief encounter. It was a moment that now intertwined her with him in a way she wasn't expecting.

Y/N huffed, “And what? I’m just meant to believe you now. Take your word for it and run into your arms and kiss you again?”

“That’d be nice, yeah.” Harry smiled, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. 

Y/N shook her head, trying to process everything Harry had just said. Despite her frustration and confusion, there was a part of her that wanted to believe him. She knew deep down that she couldn't deny the chemistry they shared during that kiss, but she also couldn't ignore the uncertainty punching at her gut. 

"Harry, I... I don't know what to think," Y/N admitted, her voice softer now, lacking the edge of anger from before. "I want to trust you, but it's hard after everything that's happened and what’s been said. I-I don’t know you that well is all."

Harry stepped closer, his expression earnest. "I understand, Birdy. And I don't expect you to trust me blindly. But hey maybe we could start as friends, get to know each other better before anything else, if that would make y' comfortable."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, considering his suggestion. The idea of starting as friends seemed more sensible, given the circumstances. "Friends?"

"Yeah, friends," Harry confirmed a hopeful glint in his eyes. "No expectations, just getting to know each other without any pressure."

Y/N nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Alright, I like that idea.” 

Harry grinned, relieved that she seemed to be willing to give him a chance. "Well, you need more of ‘em.”

Y/N’s smile disappeared, “I do not! I have plenty of friends.”

“The girls at the nursery don’t count,” Harry smirks, “And neither does Elise.”

“Whatever,” Y/N muttered, spinning on her heel to continue her journey home. She heard Harry’s footsteps jogging up to meet her and was surprised to feel his jacket being placed over her shoulders. 

Harry put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. Y/N’s heart stuttered, “Friends don’t do that you know.” She grumbled, pretending to act grumpy around him in hopes it would hide the fact that she was most definitely swooning inside. 

“Oh? I do it with my friends all the time. Sometimes I kiss them on the lips too, we can try if y’ want-” Y/N looked up at him, glaring, “Alright then, another time.”

Y/N let Harry walk her the remainder of the way home, feeling a little more at peace with the fact she would be welcoming him into her life, even if it was just as friends for now. She hoped it would be enough to get to know him and eventually, she’d trust him enough to allow their relationship to blossom into something more and hopefully sometime soon because when Harry had left her on the doorstep of her house, she knew she’d be dreaming of that kiss every time she looked at him. 

Y/N closed the door as gently as she could, pressing her forehead against the wooden frame. She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding before walking into the kitchen where Nancy was standing, “How’d you get home so quickly?” Y/N asked, unable to meet her hard stare.

“Harry must have taken you the long way home.” She shrugged pushing her chair back from the table, the legs of her chair scraping against the tiled ground.

“I-I didn’t know Harry was the guy you were talking about Nancy,” Y/N said truthfully.

“Would it have made any difference?” Nancy asked, a bite to her tone.

Y/N sighed, “All this was never my decision. Harry asked me to the dance, I-I didn't know it was going to be such a big deal.” 

“Harry loves attention from any girl who bats her eyelashes and twirls her hair.” Nancy glared, “You don’t make the exception.” 

Y/N straightened her shoulders, “What if I do?” She wasn’t going to allow herself to be belittled by another woman over a man she had just met.

Nancy snickered, “Are you that entitled?”

“Harry’s smart enough to make his own decisions Nancy and I’m not going to be involved in whatever petty game you think this is. Not only is it up to him to decide who he likes but it’s my decision too and if he’s not with anybody then I can decide whether I should be allowed to get to know him or not.” Y/N declared.

Nancy narrowed her eyes, “I’m not trying to compete with you but I’d be careful if I were you. If you’re planning on standing so close to the fire prepared to get burnt. Those Styles boys have their things going on. Harry hasn't the faintest idea of what to do with a girl outside of the bedroom. I've known him long enough for that.” 

“Maybe you don’t know him that well.” 

“Maybe,” Nancy shrugged, “Maybe you can tell me all about it when you realise he’s not all he says he is.” 

“Why do you want him if you have no faith in him?” Y/N asked.

“I said I had my eye on him, not that I planned on settling down with him. Every girl wants to sleep with him and not only because he’s Offutt’s best pilot, he’s the only man who knows what he’s doing.” Nancy stands from her chair, “I won’t compete but I don’t particularly enjoy being proven wrong.” She moved past her, leaving Y/N standing in the kitchen. 

. . . 

As winter turned to spring and spring into summer, Y/N and Harry's friendship seemed to blossom with the seasons. They had developed a type of bond that neither of them had with anybody else and through it they learnt more about themselves and each other. Ever since the night they began their relationship, there was never a moment where Y/N wasn’t seen with the brunette aviator walking beside her. 

Even Harry’s brothers had come to enjoy Y/N's company. Somehow she had taken on this maternal presence within their family dynamic that none of the siblings had ever really had before. Sonny had taken a particular liking to having Y/N around, enjoying the free time he had now that Y/N would sometimes volunteer to put Elise to bed in the evenings. 

Along with Harry’s brothers, also came Y/N’s housemates Molly and Patsy. She had become good friends with them too in the last few months and now she finally had her own little girl group to hang out with (they’d often include Elise in that group too). 

The group had become their own little, dysfunctional family on Offutt. 

Even though their friendship was meant to be the start of something more, Y/N and Harry hadn’t spoken much about that night at the dance since it had happened. Even with Harry’s flirtatious teasing from time to time, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that something had happened between them like this friendship had created a strange liminal space between them that held so many questions. She loved the current dynamic - the comfort everyone shared, even amidst their occasional bickering. It made her wonder if this was how it was supposed to be, and perhaps Harry thought so too.

However, her feelings for Harry continued to grow stronger with every passing day. She would dream of the kiss they shared and wake up with a strong ache in her chest at the idea that it would never happen again. Every day she tried to coax herself into talking to him about how she felt and every day she’d get distracted or put off by doubts and the voice in the back of her head warning her, telling her enough time had passed that maybe Harry didn’t have feelings for her anymore which is why he never bought them up. 

It was July now and the girls were sitting eating breakfast in the kitchen. Y/N was nibbling on a piece of slightly burnt toast as Molly rambled on about how busy her day was going to be down at the hairdresser with her hair rollers still in her hair. 

Opposite Y/N at the table sat Nancy, who had hardly spoken since waking up. She was dressed to the nines, her hair perfectly curled, and her uniform immaculately pressed. The tension between the two girls lingered from the dance night. It was clear Nancy was prepared to do anything for Harry's attention, even if he didn't see it. While Nancy seemed distant, Y/N tried to keep things friendly, despite the awkwardness between them. They had to live with each other after all. 

Y/N had seen Nancy and Harry alone together a few times and even if it filled her with an insatiable amount of jealousy, she wouldn’t allow herself to get involved with whatever went on between them. This wasn’t a competition she was taking part in, her feelings were her own and so were Nancy's. What mattered was her own relationship with Harry because it had slowly become the most important thing in her life. 

The front door burst open, Sonny’s voice boomed down the hallway, “Good morning ladies!” 

“Is anyone ever going to teach those boys how to knock?” Molly grumbled, standing from the table to lean against the kitchen counter, “I oughta start locking that front door before I go to bed.”

Y/N looked down to hide her smile as three grown men, dressed in overalls and white t-shirts walked into the room, one of them holding the small toddler in his arms. “Give me the baby!” Patsy launched from her chair and reached for Elise, smothering the girl in kisses. 

“Can I have a turn, Patsy?” Sonny asked, batting his eyelashes playfully. 

“You wish,” Patsy glared. 

“Morning Nancy,” George grinned, only to receive a curt nod in return, “Good morning George, y’ sure are looking mighty fine in tha’ uniform of yours,”  George remarked, his voice slightly mocking, delivered in a high pitch to tease her. 

Nancy stood from her seat, glaring up at the tall brother in front of her, “Good morning George, do you mind getting out of my way? I’ve got work to do, unlike some people.” 

“How could y’ say that? I’m always working,” He argued.

“Cigarettes and arm wrestling during work hours do not count as working.” Nancy picked her bag up from under her chair. 

“Know y’ like watching though darlin’.” He smirked and Nancy scoffed, shoving past him and leaving the house. 

“Y’ oughta be careful with that one George,” Molly smirked, taking out a cigarette and offering one to him.

“She’s all good,” He shrugged, his eyes on the seat Nancy had been sitting in.

Y/N’s smile dropped when someone snatched the piece of toast she was eating from her hand. She looked up and was met with green eyes looking down at her, a lazy grin on the face she saw every day, “Hi birdy,” His voice was always deeper than usual in the mornings 

“Hi Harry,” Y/N grinned. 

He grabbed the empty chair that Nancy had been sitting in and lifted it from the tiled floor to sit next to her. His eyes flitted around her face, and the corner of his lips turned upwards, “You’ve got jam-” He reached his thumb out and wiped away the jam from the corner of her lips. Y/N’s cheeks tinged pink, “There y’ go.”

“Thanks,” Y/N murmured, looking away from his intense gaze. 

“No problem,” He smirked, “Y’ look beautiful by the way.”

Harry said the same thing almost every morning and Y/N never failed to blush whenever he told her the compliment. “I only woke up thirty minutes ago, I haven’t even run a brush through my hair.”

“And you still look beautiful. It’s unfair birdy, truly it is.” He sighed, shaking his head dramatically.

Y/N giggled, “You’re such an idiot.” 

“So what brings you boys here so early? Ran out of food back home?” Molly asked, reaching for Elise since apparently, it was her time to hold her. 

“We’re going off base with some of the guys later to the town to buy camping gear for the trip,” Sonny explained, taking a sip of black coffee from Patsy’s mug. 

“What happened to the stuff from last year?” Molly quirked a brow, “It was perfectly fine when we left it.”

Harry reached for Y/N’s hand and mindlessly played with her fingers as people spoke. George shrugs, “There’s more of us going this year so either way we need more tents.”

"What are you talking about?" She asked, turning to Harry for an explanation.

All eyes turned to her, then to Harry, their expressions puzzled. George's frown deepened. "You never told her?"

Y/N's gaze remained fixed on Harry, waiting for his response as he dropped her hand onto his lap.

"Every year on the last week of July, a huge group of us go camping down at Harpers Lake," Sonny explained. "It's a five-hour hike, and we camp out for two nights. We're all going this year, and we thought Harry over there already told you about it, but clearly he didn't."

Y/N's eyes narrowed slightly. "I thought Molly would have told you," Harry admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

Y/N's eyes darted around at everyone's faces as they looked at her expectantly, "I-I don't know if I'll get time off at the nursery," Y/N stuttered, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over her.

"Hey, I'm sure someone'll cover for you," Harry reassured her with a shrug. "If you don't go, I won't go either."

"Harry," she huffed, unable to resist the warmth in his eyes. "What about Elise? Who will take care of her?"

"Elise is coming, of course," Sonny piped in. "You think the Styles go anywhere without each other?"

Y/N glanced at Harry, her heart softening at his earnest expression. He gently picked up her hand again, squeezing her fingers lightly as if to persuade her to come with them. Harry's gaze held hers, his voice soft but determined. "If you’re worried about skipping work, it’ll be fine. We'll figure that out together, Birdy. I promise."

“I hate camping,” Y/N confessed, the corner of his lips quirking.

“But y’ haven’t camped with me yet.” He smirked as if doing anything with him was the solution to everything. 

Y/N’s shoulders sagged, “Okay, fine.” She relented, falling into their persuasion. Though the idea of camping was her worst nightmare, being with Harry off-base seemed to make it bearable. 

Eventually, everyone left to start their day of work. Y/N took Elise into her arms and made her way down to the nursery, “Y/N!” Harry called, she turned and saw him running up to them from down the road. “Y’ not mad at me are you?” 

Y/N frowned, “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Y’ know,” He stood straight, scratching the back of his neck, something he always did when he was nervous or about to say something sincere, “Because I didn’t tell you about the camping trip. I was meant to but every time I’m with y’ all the things I plan to say just seem to slip from my mind.” 

Y/N’s face softens, “No I’m not mad at you Harry. I mean, I wish I could have found out sooner, but if you say it’ll be fine, I’ll believe you.”

Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Y’ believe me huh?” He took a step forward until he stood directly in front of her. 

Y/N’s heart stuttered at the proximity, “Y-yeah, I do.” She murmurs. 

Harry’s hand reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “Y’ might be the only one.” He whispers his breath minty from the gum he was chewing on. 

His eyes darted to her lips and then back up again. Even though they were outside, Y/N felt the oxygen slipping from the space around her until a tiny, chubby hand swatted Harry’s face out of the way, “No!” Elise yells and starts to ramble. 

Harry’s expression shifted, his features softening with amusement. He grabs Elise’s hand and starts pressing kisses to the inside of her palm, “What do y’ mean no? Y’ don’t like it when I speak to my best friend? ‘S that because you’re my best friend Elise?” Harry teases, pretending to bite her small hand. 

Y/N giggles, “It seems I’m always competing with somebody for your attention.” She jokes but Harry’s smile falters.

“Y’ don’t need to do that,” He murmurs, “Y’ too special to me to do that.” 

Elise carried on rambling as Y/N remained silent, surprised by Harry’s words. That classic, flirtatious grin reappeared once more on Harry's face as he pressed a quick kiss to Elise’s cheek and then Y/N’s too, “I’ll see you later, baby girl.” He said to Elise. 

He walked backwards, eyes fixed on Y/N, “I’ll see both my best girl’s later!” He winked and then turned around. 

“Your brother is stupid,” Y/N said to Elise. 

“Ha, Ha!” Elise pointed at her brother who disappeared around the corner, calling him the name she always called him since she couldn’t say his full name properly yet. 

“Ha Ha indeed,” Y/N sighed, making her way to the nursery. 

. . .

The camping trip had been a tradition in Offutt for the last ten years or so. Harry had been with his brothers ever since he had come to Offutt. He mostly enjoyed it for the fact that he got to spend time away from the Air Base. He didn’t do very much other than smoke cigarettes and maybe sleep with one or two people if he felt like it. 

This time though felt different. Harry had never been this excited about a camping trip before, especially not with Y/N. It had been ages since he anticipated anything, but the thought of spending two entire nights with the girl who had completely transformed his life was exhilarating enough to have him willingly sleeping in a tent out in the wilderness.

They were into the final hour of the hike to Harper’s Lake. The sun was beating down on their faces and Y/N and Harry were way behind the rest of the group. Y/N had been huffing and puffing ever since the halfway point of the trail. It had kept Harry rather amused during what was often a long and boring walk.

Harry walked in front wearing a white vest and cargo trousers, an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips and a silver dog tag around his neck. Y/N was walking behind him, beating bushes with a big stick as she walked by them. 

“Y’ keep beating up those bushes back there darling and they’ll start shouting back to y’.” Harry smiled to himself as he heard her mumbles. “You dawdling back there?”

“No,” Y/N snaps, “I do not dawdle thank you.” Her feet were slipping. She didn’t have decent shoes to wear and Harry had already had to stop twice to put bandages on both her knees which was probably why they were so behind from the rest of the group.

“Why couldn’t we just fly? You’re a pilot Harry, can’t you go get us a plane?” 

“Y’ want me to get a military plane to fly us to a lake so that y’ don’t have to get all hot and bothered 'cause you’re walking, is that right birdy?” Harry holds back a laugh.

“Well, I don’t see the point in flying planes if you’re not gonna use them.” She mumbles.

Harry stops and turns around to look at her. She’s wearing a shirt that’s too big for her and shorts on her small legs. He let her borrow his flight cap so she didn’t get sunburnt but it was too big for her head so it covered her eyes. “Are y’ asking for a lift up the hill?” 

Y/N fell silent, her gaze drifting past him to the peak of the hill. She nodded quietly. Harry chuckled, dropping his bag to the ground. Turning around, he squatted and gestured behind him, arms outstretched. "Hop on, birdy."

“Are you sure? What if I'm too heavy.” Y/N says.

“I’m only offering once so I’d make the most of it if I were you.” He teased and waited for her to jump on his back.

He heard her feet tread along the ground before stopping behind him. She put her body weight onto him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “Y’ won’t drop me, will you? Because it’s not gonna be funny if you do.”

“Never,” he promised, lifting himself off the ground. Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist and he picked up his bag off the floor. “How’s the view up there birdy?”

“Pretty,” she said, her lips close to his ear.

“I bet,” he said to himself before tracking up the hill.

The lake glimmered in the sunlight, surrounded by birch and willow trees. Y/N had never seen something so beautiful before as she looked over Harry’s head to see where they’d be staying the next few nights. Her feet hit the floor as Harry released her from his grip. There were around thirty people from the base who had come along on the trip and were already deciding where they were going to set up their camping spots. 

Y/N glanced around to spot her friends only to find them already bickering with each other in a shaded spot away from everyone else. Patsy and Molly were sharing a tent, while Sonny and George were setting up theirs with Elise. Harry had his own tent, and Y/N had bought a separate one as well. “Hey Patsy, have you seen my tent?” Y/N glanced around the floor where everyone had thrown their bags. 

“No, I thought you would have taken it.” Patsy shrugged.

“Me too,” Y/N huffed, looking through her backpack to see if she had packed the small tent she had bought. 

“Have you lost it?” Molly asked. Y/N frantically shoved some of the bags out of the way, hoping to spot it somewhere, until the realisation hit her like a ton of bricks.

It was sitting on the couch in the living room of her house, five hours away from where they were camping.

“You left it at home?” Sonny burst out laughing, Y/N’s cheeks flushing red. 

“It’s not funny Sonny,” Patsy whacked him on the shoulder, “Where’s she meant to sleep?"

“With me.” A voice spoke, and Y/N turned around to see Harry standing with aviator sunglasses covering his eyes. 

“W-what?” Y/N stuttered as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. 

“Well unless y’ wanna sleep with Elise, Birdy, the only other option is with me.” He shrugs as if it was no big deal that he was offering her to sleep in his one-man tent. 

“I-I can sleep with Elise,” She noticed how no one was saying anything or coming up with other ideas for her sleeping arrangement. She could have sworn she saw her two housemates giggling in the corner of her eye.

"And I could sleep with Elise too, but you know why I don’t?" Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "It's because all three of my siblings seem to have inherited a gene that I missed out on. Trust me, Birdy, you don’t wanna sleep in a tent with a snoring swing band the whole night."

Harry reached out and gently tugged her hand, “We’ve slept in the same room before.”

“Yeah but you slept on the floor,” She crossed her arms, trying to think of any other way she could sleep without having to share a small space with the guy she had feelings for. Y/N glanced around at her friends who immediately went about fixing their own tents as if they hadn’t stopped to watch the whole ordeal. She sighed, “Fine.”

Y/N brushed past Harry. He quickly snatched off his hat she was wearing and placed it on his own head, grinning, “It’ll be fun,” 

By the time they had set up the tent, it had dawned on Y/N exactly what she had agreed to. The tent was barely large enough for one person, let alone two, and with Harry's muscular frame, she couldn't fathom how they were meant to sleep without being practically on top of each other.

As Y/N unravelled her sleeping bag, Harry’s head peaked through the entrance, “A few of us are borrowing bikes to head to the nearest gas station to buy things for the barbecue if y’ wanna come.” 

Y/N nodded, “Just give me a second and I’ll be right out.” He nodded and paused as though he wanted to say something else before shaking his head and leaving. Y/N released a sigh and pushed back her hair wondering how she even got into this mess in the first place.

Harry was standing by two bikes, holding Elise in his arms, “A few of ‘em already went ahead.” 

“I didn’t know Elise was gonna be here,” Y/N cooed and pinched the two-year-old's chubby cheek. Harry’s eyes warmed before he placed her in the basket of his bicycle. “Is that safe?” Y/N frowned. 

“Course it is,” He shrugged. 

Soon they were riding side by side with Elise squealing in the basket of Harry’s bike, her small fingers gripping onto the front of the basket as the wind blew through her hair. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much as she watched the two year old laugh and scream with excitement. 

Eventually they pulled over into the gas station. Y/N held Elise as Harry grabbed the things they needed for the barbecue, “Do y’ wanna ice cream Elise?” Y/N gasped, taking her to the freezer to pick out an ice cream.

Elise squealed and babbled incoherently as she picked the most colourful ice pop in the whole freezer. Y/N picked out two for herself and Harry to have since it was so hot out and they still needed to ride back to the campsite again.

They sat under a grouping of trees, Elise inbetween Harry’s legs as he helped her eat her ice pop. He’d have to wipe her chin every now and then with how sloppy she was when eating, “There y’ go baby girl, that ice pop ain’t going anywhere,” Harry chuckled as Elise gripped the ice pop in two hands. 

Y/N smiled to herself as she watched the two of them interact, Elise’s adorable antics continuing to amuse them both. She couldn’t help but think about how strangely normal this all felt. Despite the little time they had known the Styles’ siblings, it felt like they had known each other for much longer. The ease with which they connected, the laughter shared between them—it all felt so natural, as if they were meant to be together in that moment.

Harry’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s face with a hint of a smile on his lips, “What’s going on in that head of yours Birdy?”

Y/N smiled, “Nothing, I’m just happy.”

Harry looked surprised, “Y’ are?” 

“Yeah,” She nodded, “I am. Are you?”

Harry thought for a moment, “Yeah Birdy,” He grinned, dimples popping, “I am.” 

Their exchanged smiles lingered for a moment longer before Harry stood up, “We should probably start heading back before the sun goes down.”

“Yeah,” Y/N sighs, she could have stayed right there in that moment for a little longer but she knew they needed to get back to feed the others. 

They picked up their bikes off the floor and began their journey back, stealing glances at each other when the other one wasn’t looking. Y/N’s heart fluttered everytime he caught her eye and looked away bashfully. 

After eating and staying out to talk to her friends, Y/N was already ready for bed and wrapped up in her sleeping bag. She was wearing her pyjamas and an eye mask on top of her head. She wanted to make sure she was the first person in the tent so that she could be the first one to claim her space. 

She tried to relax but her heart was racing when she heard Harry’s voice from outside as he said goodnight to his little sister in the tent next door. Y/N randomly picked up a book she had bought with her and pretended to read as the entrance to the tent lifted open and Harry crawled in. 

He was in nothing but a pair of shorts, his tattooed torso completely bare, “Normally I’d wear less than this but since the lady’s present,” He smirked. 

Y/N scoffed, “How kind,” 

There was nothing but the rustling of his sleeping bag as he crawled into the tight spot next to him. Y/N’s eyes widened when she felt his arm right next to hers as they lay side by side in such close proximity. She immediately sat up, looking down at his relaxed state, “What?” He frowned.

“Can’t you move over a little?” She huffed, even though they both knew there wasn’t exactly anywhere to move. 

His head turned, “Where exactly?”

“I-I don’t know!” She exclaimed.

Harry smiled as though he were amused by her franticness, “Oh c’mon Birdy, I don’t bite. I mean I may get a little bit touchy in the night but that’s no fault of my own.” 

“Harry,” She sighed. 

His expression faltered. "Fine," he muttered. Reaching beside him, he retrieved the blanket he had stowed away. Sitting up, he rolled it up and placed it between them. Y/N settled back down, the blanket now forming a barrier between them. Though it sacrificed some space, she found herself feeling a bit more at ease with the added distance.

“Thank you,” She sighed. 

“Mhm,” Harry huffed. 

A silence settled between them. Y/N, exhausted from the hike, found herself unable to drift off to sleep quickly. Her mind raced as she listened to the man beside her breathing softly. "Y' trust me, don't you, birdy?" he whispered into the darkness.

She thought for a moment, “More than I did before.” 

“But not completely?” Harry’s voice seemed sad, almost defeated. 

She said nothing, wondering what she could say. Of course she trusted him, he had been nothing but good to her these last few months and proved to her he wasn’t what most people said he was. Even if he was a flirt and enjoyed attention from time to time, he was loyal to the people he held close in his life and she adored that about him. 

“You’re getting there,” She whispered but the truth was he was already there. She just didn’t know if she trusted herself. 

Y/N woke up in the middle of the night when she felt something jolt next to her. Groggy and disoriented, she blinked in the darkness, trying to make sense of her surroundings. As her eyes adjusted, she realised that Harry was stirring restlessly, his breathing ragged and uneven.

“H-Harry?” Y/N sat up, the sleeping bag falling to her waist. She reached out and placed her hand on his arm to shake him, “Harry wake up,” She urged, voice laced with concern. 

She noticed how he had begun to shiver, his arm covered in goosebumps. Y/N reached to put her hand gently against his forehead and hoped that her touch would provide some warmth to his shivering body. “Harry, you’re dreaming, it’s just a dream.” She tried to coax him out of his sleep without scaring him more than he already was. 

Harry's eyes snapped open, wide with fear as he gasped for breath. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, and Y/N could see the remnants of tears glistening in his eyes.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Y/N murmured soothingly, her heart aching at the sight of Harry's distress, “You just had a nightmare that’s all.”

Harry's breathing gradually slowed as he focused on Y/N's voice, the warmth of her presence calming whatever dark thing that lurked inside of him. With a shaky exhale, his head fell, “Fuck,” He hissed, “Did I wake y’ up?” He looked up at her, his eyes tired and sad. Y/N warily nodded her head, “M sorry, M so sorry.”

“Hey, Harry, it's fine. It’s okay.” She reached out to wrap her arms around his shoulders, she could feel a thin layer of cold sweat on his back as her palm pressed against his shoulder. 

Harry took the opportunity to bury his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the floral scent of her perfume as if it would be enough to bring him back from whatever memory he was trapped in. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as she whispered words of reassurance. She gently stroked his hair, feeling the tension slowly melt away from his body.

“It was real,” Harry whispered. 

“W-what?” Y/N pulled away, still holding him.

“M-my old man left me out in the cold one night when I tried to stop him from hurting my Mama. He kicked me out in the backyard and locked the door behind him like I was some old dog.” He spat the words out, full of anger. 

Y/N’s eyes welled with tears, “He hurt you?”

Harry exhaled shakily, as though he was trying not to cry, “Y-yeah he did Birdy, real bad.” The way he said it made Y/N believe it wasn’t the only time his father had hurt him. 

Y/N swallowed back her tears, her throat burning. She held his face in her hands and forced him to look right at her, “Y’ might have to be big and brave for your brothers and Elise but y’ can be whatever you want with me.” She murmured, “I won’t let anything hurt you, Harry.”

His eyes softened, something flashed in them as Y/N moved her face closer to kiss his cheek, tasting the saltiness of his dried tears. “God where have y’ been all my life birdy?” He whispered, their lips inches apart. 

“It doesn’t matter,” She shook her head, “I’m here now.” 

Y/N made space for Harry to lay back down, but he couldn't seem to let go of her. She noticed how he held onto her hand whenever she tried to move away. So, she removed the rolled-up blanket between them and unzipped the tops of both of their sleeping bags. Once they were lying next to each other, she placed the blanket on top of them for extra warmth.

Harry’s arms reached out for her and he didn’t even ask before he was holding her close to his chest. She could hear the beating of his heart as her ear pressed against it. “Y’ not afraid are you?” She asked, peering up at him to see his eyes closed gently. 

“No, that's just how it goes whenever I’m around you. Y’ get used to it after a while, don’t worry.” He murmured. 

Y/N’s heart seemed to pick up pace until it matched his own, “Okay.” She whispered and fell asleep in his arms. 

The next morning, Y/N awoke in the embrace of Harry who was still fast asleep. She thought back to last night and how she had never seen him so afraid before. She pressed a kiss to his cheek when she sat up and tried to leave the tent without making much of a noise. 

She reached for her sweater and pulled it over her torso so she wouldn’t get cold from the morning air. “Good morning sunshine!” Molly grinned, “How’d your first night with the pilot go?”

Patsy giggled, “Yeah how’d it go?”

Y/N bit back a smile, “It was nothing like that and you know it.” She said but they weren’t accepting it as an answer. 

George smirked, “I better not wake up an uncle by tomorrow morning.”

Y/N’s mouth gaped open, she hit him on the arm playfully and grabbed a carton of orange juice from the crate, “I’m two months older than you so I’d be careful!” She glared. 

“Ha! Ha!” Elise grinned, her mouth covered in yogurt as she stood and stumbled over to Y/N’s tent. 

"Good morning, baby girl," Harry's raspy voice greeted, a hint of strain evident as he lifted Elise into his arms, “Y’ sure are a little mess, madam.” He chuckled. 

Y/N tried to resist the urge to look at him as everyone greeted him with a good morning. She settled into one of the camping chairs, folding her legs beneath her, but soon a shadow loomed over her, blocking the sun, “Good morning Birdy,” His voice was deep and raspy. 

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, “Morning Harry.”

“Where’d y’ go? Left me cold in tha’ tent this morning y’ know?” Multiple snorts came from the group around them. 

“I-I was-” She didn’t know what to say and she was pretty sure her face was the colour of a tomato.

“Wake me up next time, yeah?” He smirks, leaving her to grab some of the coffee Molly had made.

“Oh, so there’s a next time huh?” George winked. 

Y/N cleared her throat, feeling flustered from the interaction. "So, what's everyone doing today?" She attempted to change the subject, wondering if there would ever be a moment on this trip where she wouldn't be embarrassed by something she wasn’t expecting. 

. . .

Y/N didn’t see Harry for the rest of the morning as the girls got ready to go swim in the lake for the afternoon. Due to the tent mishap, Y/N was worried she’d forgotten her bathing suit as well but luckily found it at the bottom of her bag. 

Molly was already in a blue, plaid halter one-piece that tied around her neck and Patsy was wearing a yellow one with a bow on the front. Y/N stepped out of the tent after getting changed, “Oh no, you can’t wear that.” Molly was the first to comment. 

Y/N frowned, looking down at her plain black and white striped swimsuit, “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” Molly pulled the cigarette from her lips, “Honey y’ look like a crosswalk in upstate New York.” Patsy snorted.

“It’s not that bad,” She huffed, reaching for the suntan lotion only for Molly to snatch it from her grasp. 

“Honey, this trip isn’t just a relaxing break for our pilots - it’s also the chance for us ladies to get a little something out of it. Think about it, all those men do is work and all we do is sit around waiting for some excitement. Y’ think Patsy and I want to camp in tents? Y’ think we want to hike up hills? No of course not, most of the ladies here come because they want a little fun. They want to flirt and be romanced by a pilot who we might never see again.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened, “Really?”

“Really,” Patsy nodded. 

Molly brushed past her and walked to her tent to pull out something from her bag, “Y’ lucky I’m an overpacker.” She unfolded the material and held up a red, polka dot swimsuit with a sweetheart neckline and a scoop back. 

“I can’t wear that!” Y/N almost gasped, she couldn’t help but look around to see if anyone saw.

Molly rolled her eyes, “You don’t think we’ve all seen you with Harry? He’s head over heels for you! Put this on and I guarantee you’ll be thanking yourself for forgetting that tent.” 

Y/N hesitated, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. The thought of Harry's reaction to seeing her in such a swimsuit sent a flutter of anticipation through her stomach. With a playful roll of her eyes, she took the swimsuit from Molly's outstretched hand. "Fine, but only because you're relentless."

Harry was already by the lake with his brothers and some of the other pilots working on Offutt. He was lying on a towel with his sunglasses on and swimming trunks hanging on his hips, smoking a cigarette. “Oh shit, I didn’t know Nancy was coming on this trip,” George said, taking a swig of his glass bottled beer as he sat down. Nancy was sitting with a group of friends, lounging on the dock, “She sure is something in that swimsuit, H. Would y’ look at her- pure sunlight she is.” 

Harry chuckled, “Yeah, sunlight, sure. Think you’ve had one too many of those beers George. Why don’t y’ go over and talk to her?”

“Are you kidding me? She spews venom every time I try to talk to her.” George says, “And she likes you more anyway. I don’t know why though, everybody knows you’re with Y/N.”

Harry’s ears perk at the mention of her name, “What are you talking about? We’re not together.”

“Uhuh, keep talking and your nose will get bigger than it already is,” 

Harry sits up to lightly hit his brother but he pauses when he sees his mouth drop open, “What are you staring at?” Harry turns around, following George’s gaze.

That's when he notices Molly and Patsy approaching, both clad in their swimsuits. Yet, it's not them who have captured the attention of not only George but seemingly everyone else as well. Y/N walks in between them in a swimsuit that reveals the soft skin of her thighs and the curve of her breasts from the low neckline. Her hair is pinned up and tied with a red ribbon, her smile so bright it overtook the light from the sun.

Harry felt a rush of breathlessness as he removed his sunglasses, unable to tear his gaze away from Y/N. "Have mercy," he muttered to himself, rising from the ground and striding over to the girls, with Sonny and George trailing behind him. 

The girls laid their towels out on the ground as the boys were walking over, “Looking swell Patsy,” Sonny’s eyes were fixed on her cleavage.

“My eyes are up here Sonny,” Patsy spoke, monotonously. 

Harry ignored everyone else as he stepped in front of Y/N. Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at him. He felt his cock stir in his swim shorts as she licked her bottom lip, sending a jolt of heat through him. Harry knew he needed to get a grip on himself before things got out of hand. 

He glanced around and noticed eyes staring at the girl in front of him, “Hi Birdy,” 

Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “H-Hi Harry,” She stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Are you saving this swimsuit for someone or?” He smirked, wanting to get a rise out of her. He liked seeing her cheeks turn red whenever he attempted to flirt with her. 

“M-Molly and Patsy wanted me to wear it. I wasn’t sure at first but they thought it looked good. I feel like it’s a little too much, what do you think? Do you think it’s too much?” Harry’s eyes softened as she rambled nervously to him. 

Sensing her self-consciousness, he put her at ease by saying, “Y’ look beautiful Y/N,” 

She took a deep breath, “Are you sure?”

“Never been more sure about anything in my life,” He murmured, reaching his hand out to hold her own. Y/N offers a shy smile. 

“I don’t know about you all but I’m just about melting from how hot it is. Are any of you going in the water?” Molly asked, receiving a nodding of heads in response. 

“What do y’ say we go for a swim huh?” He smirks. 

Y/N suddenly gets all embarrassed again, “H-Harry, I need to tell you something,”

“What’s wrong?” He was immediately concerned. 

“The thing is, I don’t know how to swim all that well.” She confessed, “We don’t have anything like this back home so I never really got the chance to learn.”

Harry snickered, “How’s about I teach y’ hmm?” 

She purses her lips and then nods, “Okay Harry.” 

They walk hand in hand to the dock. Harry notices Nancy’s glare as they walk past her and gives Y/N’s hand a small squeeze in assurance. He’s first to jump in the water, submerging underneath and swimming up to the surface. 

Y/N stood on the edge of the dock with her toes hanging over the edge, “Oh I’m not so sure about this Harry,” She said, uncertain as she realised how deep the water was. 

“It’s alright darling, I’m right here,” He holds his arms out, ready for her to leap right into them, “I’ll catch you before your head even goes underwater, wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty hair now would I?”

“No,” She says and he knows she wasn’t paying attention to anything he was saying, too busy worrying about jumping in.

“M right here Y/N, you can do it. Get in the water darling, c’mon.” He coaxes her and thinks she’s about to do it but she hesitates. 

“I can’t! I really can’t Harry.” Y/N shakes her head. 

“C’mon Y/N, you can do it!” Molly and Patsy cheer for her, already swimming in the lake with Elise in their arms. 

“Alright Birdy, on the count of three,” Harry’s smiling even though he knows it’s hard for her. “One…”

“I can’t!” She bends her knees slightly. 

“Two…” He shouts, people clapping and cheering now. 

“Harry seriously!” She giggles, her eyes squeezing shut. 

“Three!” 

“I can’t do it,”

“Birdy get in the water!” He yells and then laughs because she’s laughing too at her own silliness, “I’m sorry daring, will you please get in the water.”

Y/N closes her eyes, bends her legs and screams, using one foot to leap into the water. Harry’s already there waiting to catch her and drag her up. It’s almost instinctive as he grabs her hips and feels her legs wrap around his waist beneath the water. Her head emerged and she quickly wrapped both her arms around his neck. “That’s m’ girl,” He cheered, everyone joining in as Y/N emerged with a smile. 

“It’s cold,” She laughed, water coming out her nose. 

“It’s not so bad,” Their faces were close, if he moved any closer he’d almost be kissing her. 

“Are you gonna teach me how to swim now?” Y/N asked, her teeth biting her bottom lip. 

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged, grinning, “I kinda like having y’ like this.”

Y/N splashed him with water, “What if I drown?”

“I won’t let you,” He said as though it were a matter of fact.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “But what if I’m eighty and you can’t swim anymore but I wanna swim instead.”

He knew she was being silly but he liked the fact that she considered him to be a part of her life for that long. A spark of hope flashed within him, “I’ll probably just swim with y’ anyway. I mean it would be a sight to see Birdy but wherever you go I go.”

Y/N huffed, “Fine if you won’t teach me to swim, you’ll just have to carry me around in the water.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Harry joked, “Where to first Birdy?”

She pointed to her two friends who were keeping Elise entertained in the water and Harry grinned, understanding her silent request. With a playful twinkle in his eye, he scooped Y/N up into his arms and waded into the water towards Molly and Patsy, Elise's delighted squeals echoing around them.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the lake, they reluctantly made their way back to shore after spending the whole afternoon swimming. As it was the last night, people had been preparing for a bonfire - a tradition created to commemorate the end of the trip. Sonny and George were already sitting with Nancy’s group of friends as they waited for the bonfire to be lit, the other’s going to join them. 

Elise was napping in Patsy’s arms as they sat together, wrapped in towels and talking. Harry pulled Y/N down to sit next to him on one of the logs, pulling her into his side. He noticed she was shivering as the air turned cooler and silently reached for the sweatshirt he had brought with him to pull over her head. She thanked him quietly in return. 

Eventually, the evening air was filled with the scent of woodsmoke and the sound of laughter as they settled in for a cosy night by the fire. Someone pulled out a guitar, and soon the sound of music filled the air, blending with the sounds of voices and the crackling of the flames. 

Harry excused himself from Y/N's side for a moment to join his brothers and friends for a smoke. Despite the distance, he couldn't help but steal glances at her now and then, his heart warming at the sight of her. Each time she took over from Patsy in looking after Elise as she slept, a sense of peace settled within him.

It had always worried Harry that Elise wouldn’t have another woman in her life to provide the things she needed that Harry and his brothers knew nothing about. There was something profoundly comforting about seeing Y/N with his baby sister. It wasn't just the way she cradled Elise with such care, or the gentle sway of her movements as she rocked the sleeping girl. It was the way Elise seemed to instinctively trust her, snuggling closer to Y/N as if she sensed the warmth and safety she provided.

Harry turned his back on her momentarily to extinguish his cigarette in the dirt. But when he faced his friend again, his attention was drawn to someone approaching the girls. It was a man he recognized, someone Nancy and her friends had been conversing with for most of the day. He observed as Y/N smiled, but he could sense her discomfort as she subtly retreated while he continuously tried to get closer to her.

Harry began to slowly walk towards them until he could make sense of some of what the stranger was saying. The closer he got, the clearer it became that the man's words were laced with suggestive undertones, and Harry's protective instincts surged to the forefront. 

As he approached, he caught Y/N's eye, and he could see the silent plea for help in her gaze. “Hey fella, I think you’ve had enough,” Harry said, his tone firm as he confronted the guy. 

The thug sneered at Harry, clearly not appreciating the interference. "Mind your own business, pretty boy. The lady seems to be enjoying my company just fine," he retorted, a smug grin on his face.

Harry’s jaw clenched, “I don’t wanna have to ask y’ again to leave her alone.” He warned, his voice laced with a steely edge.

The man stood up and Harry tried to keep calm when he saw the frightened look in Y/N’s eyes. He wasn’t going to fight in front of her and he wasn’t going to wake his sister who was now in Molly’s arms. Although Molly, as though sensing there was going to be a fight, backed away and bought Elise somewhere away from the campfire. 

Harry looked behind the man who was a few inches shorter than him, “Was he bothering y’ birdy?” He pointed at the thug who was trying to intimidate her.

“H-Harry-” Y/N stood and tried to reach for him but he held up a hand to stop her. 

People were watching, the noise had quietened down as a thick tension fell over the camp, “I just wanted to talk to the pretty bitch over here. You know she was asking for it the way she was wearing that swimsuit all day.” The sick thug chuckled. 

“You think that’s funny huh?” Harry faked a smile, stepping forward until he was right up close to the man, “Y’ know, my old man told me that when a guy makes comments like that to a young lady, it means something.” 

“Oh yeah? What does it mean?” The thug spoke, as though he was in on some kind of joke Harry was making. 

Harry’s jaw tightened as he muttered, “Their cock’s too small to find.” With a swift movement, he clenched his fist and swung, the impact landing squarely on the man's jaw. The thug stumbled back, stunned by the force of the blow, and Harry wasted no time in delivering another punch, sending him sprawling to the ground.

“Harry!” Y/N gasped as Patsy screamed in shock. 

People gathered around to watch as the two men delivered punch after punch at each other. Y/N’s eyes welled with tears as she watched Harry get hit repeatedly, his entire face covered in blood. 

“George!” Y/N ran over to him, “Y’ gotta stop it,”

“What am I meant to do? That guy’s huge!” George exclaimed although he also looked worried for his older brother. 

“Please,” Y/N begged, “He’ll kill him.”

George hesitated for a moment, torn between the instinct to protect his brother and the fear of intervening in the dangerous fight. But the sight of Harry, bloodied and battered, spurred him into action.

"Sonny, help me!" George called out to his younger brother, who immediately rushed to his side. Together, they managed to pull Harry off of the thug he was punching, their combined strength enough to separate Harry from him.

Breathing heavily, Harry glared at the man lying on the ground, spitting out blood from his mouth as he did, before turning to face Y/N. Despite the pain etched on his face, his eyes softened as he reached out to her. "I'm okay," he assured her, his voice hoarse.

“Y-you’re hurt,” She was in shock, unable to believe this was real and not just some nightmare she was having. 

“I’m okay baby,” He heaved, spitting out more blood onto the floor. 

Before the man could get up and try to hit him again, Sonny, George and Y/N led Harry away from the bonfire. Y/N's heart ached at the sight of Harry's injuries, her hands trembling as she gently touched his bruised cheek. "We need to get you cleaned up," she murmured, one of his eyes already beginning to swell. 

They managed to lead Harry away from the chaos of the campfire, guiding him towards their tents where they could tend to his injuries in privacy and ignoring the gossip that was whispered amongst everybody. Y/N caught sight of Nancy who stood up and looked over at Harry with concern etched on her features. 

“Put him down here,” Y/N pointed to one of the logs for him to sit on and ran to grab a first aid kit she had packed in her backpack as a precaution and a wet cloth to wipe his face with. Harry groaned at the impact, hunching forward and clutching his ribs in pain. 

Y/N knelt in between his legs in front of him and opened up the kit, “You two should head on back, make the most of the rest of the night,” She told them as she placed the wet cloth to remove the blood from Harry’s face. 

“Are you sure Y/N?” Sonny scratched the back of his neck, “We can help if you want.”

“And do what? All I’m gonna do is fix his wounds and then go to bed. I don’t want you two to miss out and ruin the rest of the trip.” It was only ten thirty so there was still plenty of time to spend at the bonfire. “The girls are leaving Elise with one of the families and I’ll pick her up in the morning. Everything is fine, you two go and have fun.”

Harry hissed as she applied disinfectant to his cuts, “Well alright,” George said, still unsure, “But you’ll come get us if something goes wrong?” 

Y/N nodded, trying her best to smile, “I promise I’ll come get you.”

They soon left and Y/N was left alone with Harry writhing in pain, “I’m sorry Y/N.” His voice came out a whisper.

Y/N’s jaw clenched, “That was silly, y’ could have easily diffused the situation without delivering the first punch.”

“He was asking for it and I won’t allow anyone to talk to y’ that way. I saw how scared you looked when he was talking to you. God Y/N,” Harry exhaled heavily through his nose, “I think I saw red - I’ve never been so angry before.” 

Y/N sighed, “I know you were just trying to look out for me but you frightened me and I-”

“I did?” His voice sounded hurt, taking Y/N aback.

“A-A little,” She admitted, “I thought you were gonna die.”

“I can’t die, you know that,” He tried to crack a smile but his face hurt too much, “I never want to scare you, you know that right?” 

Y/N said nothing, “Hey,” He cupped her face in his hand, “I never want to scare you, ever.” 

“I know,” She shrugged him off, “Just don’t ever do that again.” 

Harry looked at her with a furrowed brow, unsure what to think of how she was feeling, “Alright,” His shoulders dropped, “I won’t.” 

Harry thought better than to interrupt her as she tended to the cuts and bruises on his face and hands. His eyes stayed fixated on her as she focused on fixing him up. He was pretty sure his pupils had carved themselves into hearts with how much adoration he had whilst looking at her. Her hair was wavy and tangled from swimming in the river, she had caught the sun a little so her face was tinged red and she was wearing his sweatshirt that was much too big for her small form. 

“I think that’s as good as it gets,” She whispered, eyes darting across his face. 

As she was about to pull away, Harry tugged on the sleeve of her sweater. Y/N looked down as he curled his fingers around her wrist and rubbed the pad of his thumb over her pulse point, “Thank you,” He murmured, doing his best to look at her despite his black eye. 

Y/N helped Harry into the tent, trying to make it easy for him to lay down comfortably without feeling any pain from where he had taken a few hits on his torso. She crawled in beside him and lay on her side to look at him, “Do you need anything?” She kept her voice quiet. 

Harry shook his head, “Just you here is fine.” 

Y/N swallowed, “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.” 

A silence fell over them, the tension felt palpable now that they were alone together. There was so much that needed to be said hanging in the space between them - things that had been brushed off or put to one side all so they could build trust. But perhaps as their trust in each other grew, they began to question their own judgement and feel uncertain about themselves. 

“Y/N,” Harry whispered, breaking the silence. He rarely said her name now, often replacing it with the nickname he had given her, so hearing it from his lips sounded sweet like a term of endearment. 

“H-Harry,” She said back, unsure of what he was going to say.

“My old man used to hurt me and m’ family a lot,” He started, Y/N’s heart hurting for the man in front of her and his younger siblings, “When I grew older, I started t’ fight him back and I got so good at it. Not that that’s something to brag about but… I-I guess when I see the people I love, like my Mama and my brothers and Elise, in pain, I just get so angry. I-it’s like I see red every time and all I can think about is how much I want to hurt the cause of their pain.”

Y/N stayed quiet, allowing him time and space for his moment of vulnerability, “But I don’t think I’ve ever been as angry as I had been tonight. It’s like I saw you flinch and I swore I could have killed him.”

“Harry,” Y/N gasped, wanting to reach out for him. 

Harry turned over, wincing at the pain but needing to look at her as he spoke, “I ain’t stopped thinking about that kiss since it happened. When I sleep rough, I picture it to help me get back to sleep. Y’ seem to settle something in me that no one else can and… I don’t know what to do about it.” 

Y/N’s heart thundered against her chest like it was trying to leap out, “Watching y’ with my family, being with y’ every day - it is the one good thing in my life. You are the one good thing in my life, the only thing that is wholly and completely mine. I don’t know how to quit y’ Birdy, I’ve been trying because I thought y’ wanted to do this whole friends thing for a little longer but I think about you when I sleep, when I eat, when I’m a hundred feet in the air - Hell, I even think about you when I’m holding Elise, imagining you being there and holding her and how much I want that with you.”

Y/N felt her eyes burn with tears, “Y-you do?” She said her voice barely above a whisper. 

“I do darling,” He shuffles forward and reaches a hand out for hers under the blanket.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you either.” Y/N confesses, feeling the weight on her chest ease with each word she spoke, “I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking about you since the moment I saw you.” 

“You haven’t?” Harry questioned like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I haven’t,” Y/N affirmed, “Somehow it seems you’ve set up camp somewhere in there,” She placed a hand over his heart, “‘S a little annoying really,” She giggled. 

Harry grinned, his head moving closer to hers. Y/N’s smile fell when she felt his breath blow across her face. Her eyes darted down to his lips, “Are we going to kiss again?” She asked. 

“Do y’ want to kiss again?” He murmured, his lips feathering across hers. 

“I do, so badly, I do.” She was almost begging. 

“Well alright then,” His voice husky with desire. With that, he closed the remaining distance between them, capturing her lips with his. 

The kiss ignited something within them both. Months of longing and watching from afar, releasing into this moment.  Harry's lips moved with an urgency as Y/N sighed deeply in relief,  their mouths melding together. His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as if to bridge any remaining space between them.

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in Harry's hair as she deepened the kiss, her heart racing with every beat. The world around them faded into insignificance as if they were the only two people remaining in the world and they were all each other had. 

Y/N’s hand went under his shirt, feeling his warm body beneath her fingertips as she slid them up his torso. Harry gripped her hips hard enough to move her on top of him. Her bare legs were between his and he remembered she was still wearing her swimsuit beneath her sweatshirt.  “Harry,” She whispered, breathless. She was tugging on the hem of his shirt, silently begging him to take it off.

He shot up and she pulled his shirt over his head. Y/N marvelled at his muscular, tattooed body, she’d seen it plenty of times before but she could never seem to get over how perfectly built he was. Harry was eager to kiss her again, but Y/N hesitated. Her fingers went to the hem of her sweatshirt, and she pulled it over her head. Then, she did something that left Harry breathless.

She pulled the straps of her swimsuit down, leaving her upper body completely bare. Harry had never seen something so ethereal. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the ends falling at her supple, rounded breasts, her nipples hardened from the cold air. Harry felt his cock stir in his shorts and he was pretty sure Y/N knew what was happening from the way her pupils dilated and her lips parted. 

“We don’t have to...” Harry wasn’t sure where this night was going to go but Y/N stopped him.

“I want to,” She whispered, “I want you.”

“Y/N,” He murmured, unable to believe this wasn’t all a dream. 

“Shhh,” She shushed him and pressed her lips against his again. She looped her arms around his neck and pressed their bodies together. 

Harry tossed the blanket to one side with his lips still attached to her. He pressed kisses down her neck, sucking and biting on her skin leaving a mark that would tell him in the morning that this was all real. Y/N could feel the bulge in his boxers beneath her as she straddled his lap. She rolled her hips against him, Harry groaning against her lips in response. 

Y/N gasped when Harry thrust his clothed cock against her core. She could feel the dampening of her swimsuit as her pussy grew wet the harder he ground against her, “Harry,” She breathed, his lips ghosting against her jawline, “I want you to put it in me,” She said, her desire overruling everything.

“Yeah?” His voice came out raspy, “Y want my cock in your pussy darling girl?” He looked up at her with hooded eyes.

Y/N immediately nodded, desperate to feel him inside of her, “Take me out then baby,” He ordered.

Y/N swallowed and tugged on the waistband of his shorts, her fingers fumbling to pull him out. Her eyes widened when she saw the outline of his cock against the fabric. She reached into his shorts and felt his cock beneath her hand, wrapping her fingers around it only to realise how big he was as she pumped her hand up and down. Harry clenched his jaw, his head falling back as he released a moan. 

“Gonna take off the rest of that swimsuit baby?” Harry murmured, playing with the nylon fabric. Y/N nodded and lifted her hips, allowing him to tug the swimsuit off of her body. Harry’s mouth fell open as her wetness touched his thighs. “Look at tha’ making a mess all over me hmm?” He tutted, his eyes looking down at her bare, pretty pussy. “So pretty, the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

“I need you so bad Harry,” Y/N mewled, her head dropping forward onto his shoulder as she went back to pumping his cock. He ran his hand up and down her back, soothing her. 

“I know baby, I know.” He cooed.

He helped her a little by pulling his shorts down from his hips. He almost died when he saw how much bigger his cock looked in her smaller hand, “Will it fit?” Y/N asked, eyes looking up at him big and round. 

Harry glanced at her pussy, “Dunno baby, y’ pussy’s so small,” He sighed, “Might hurt y’”

“But it’ll fit, I know it will,” She insisted because if he refused she’d probably pass out. 

“Oh yeah?” He looked at her with a cocky grin, “Look at you, you’re so desperate for it.” He reached out to wipe the drool from the corner of her mouth as she looked at his aching length.

His lips went to her ear, feeling her shiver beneath his touch as he breathed, “Show me.”

“What?” Her mouth fell open. 

“Show me how it fits in y’ baby,” He muttered. 

Y/N swallowed and nodded, exhaling shakily. She sat up on her knees, lifting her hips and shifting herself so her pussy was directly above Harry’s cock. Harry waited patiently, moving his hands to her hips and giving them a soft squeeze in encouragement. She grabbed the base of his cock in her hand and lowered her hips until she felt the tip nudge against her hole. She gasped when she lowered her hips a little further and the thick crown of his cock squeezed through the opening of her core.

“There y’ go,” He inhaled, “Tha’s my girl.” Y/N nodded, unable to think as his cock stretched her open inch by inch in the most delicious way, squeezing and pulsing against the walls of her pussy the further it entered her.

“‘S it all the way in yet?” She whimpered, her eyes squeezed shut.

Harry looked down and groaned when he saw half of his cock submerged in her tight pussy, “Almost baby,” 

“Okay,” She mewled, sinking further onto his cock until he was so deep inside of her. She whined, her head dropping forward when she felt the tip of his cock nudge the walls of her cervix and his balls pressed against her ass. 

“Fuck baby,” Harry moaned, pressing a longing kiss to the top of her head.

“Y so deep,” Y/N’s words came out slurred. She rested her head against his chest for a moment, getting used to the feeling of his cock inside of her. “M ready now,” She whispered.

“Yeah? Y’ sure?” He wanted to make sure she was okay and that she was in complete control of the situation.

Y/N didn’t say anything. Instead, she lifted herself up and then sank back down on his cock, feeling it rub against the walls of her sopping, wet cunt as she did. She repeated the action, her head falling backwards, back arching; she had to grip Harry’s calves to keep her from falling back. She was seeing stars every time she bounced on his cock, “It feels so good Harry,” She whimpered.

Harry grabbed her waist, helping her move up and down on his cock, “I know it does baby,” He moaned, “Does it feel good knowing ‘m so deep? Only I can touch y’ that deep baby, fuck,” He drawled. 

Y/N pushed herself up and removed her hands from his calves to his shoulders, using them as an aid to help her move up and down. Harry moved his head forward and wrapped his lips around her nipple, sucking and biting. He pressed spongy kisses down the center of her breasts, “Can y’ feel me right here darling girl?” He whispered, pressing his hand to her belly where his cock protruded every time she sank back down on him.

“Please Harry,” She whined, unsure exactly what she was asking for but so consumed by the intense pleasure she was feeling. 

“Please what?” His lips ghosted against her jawline, sweat coated their skin from how warm the tent was. He tugged on the ends of Y/N’s hair, “Y’ want me t’ put a baby in y’ is that what you're asking?” Y/N groaned, lips parting as the air left her lungs. “Oh you like that, don’t you? Can feel you clenching round m’ cock baby. Darling girl wants me to put a baby in her?” 

Harry thrust his hips harder into her when he received no reply, “Want me to fill you up and put a baby in you hmmm? Do y’ like the idea of having my baby inside of you? Making y’ belly all round and swollen and having everyone at Offutt knowing that baby inside of you is all mine.”

“Y-Yes Harry,” She gasped.

“Yeah? Y’ wanna make me a daddy baby? Be m’ perfect mama waiting on me with your perfect pregnant belly?”

“Mhm,” Y/N choked, his words making her heart pound. Her eyes began to water, feeling overwhelmed with how good she felt.

“Do you want me to cum inside of you?” He kisses her chin, “Know y’ ready to cum baby. Y’done so well.” He moves his hand in between them and starts to rub circles on her clit. Y/N’s gasping for breath, whining and writhing on top of him. 

“Harry, Harry, Harry,” She says over and over again like some sacred prayer, a stray tear falling from her eye.

“I know baby, I know you’re tired and ready to cum.” His lips puckering to leave a kiss where the salty tear once was on the side of her cheek. He could feel the burning in his belly as his orgasm began to build. He would have cum ages ago if he wasn’t so set on cumming with her. He could feel her cunt tighten around his cock, squeezing him harder. “Cum with me darling.” He murmured.

Y/N felt the coil in her belly burst as she clenched around his cock as she came. Harry’s quiet moans filled the tent as his cum painted the walls of her insides. He makes sure his whole cock is all the way in her even though he knows it won’t do anything, the thought of filling her up with his seed makes him cum even harder. 

Y/N collapses into his chest, her head falling on his shoulder. Her eyes flutter shut and her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath from the intensity of her release. She feels Harry’s heart thumping hard against his chest, his hand smoothing up and down her back as he lays his forehead on her shoulder. 

Y/N whimpers when Harry moves and shakes her head, “Can we stay like this for a little longer?” She asks, tiredly.

Harry kisses her shoulder, “For as long as y’ want.” 

“Thank you,” She murmurs, feeling as though she could fall asleep exactly like this. His cock was still inside of her, she could feel the stickiness of his cum dripping on her thighs, but it felt so good to be so full of him. 

“C’mon darling girl,” Harry kissed her cheek, “Time to sleep.” 

Y/N shuddered when Harry removed his cock, her pussy pulsing around nothing whilst she felt his cum gush out of her. Harry brought his fingers to her thighs and began to push his cum back into her sensitive cunt. Y/N inhaled deeply, shuddering as she felt his fingers stuffing her empty hole with his cum. 

He gently laid her down beside him, her body placid. He grabbed the blanket and laid it across her body to stop her from getting cold, “Your bruises,” Y/N whispered, cupping his cheek in her hand and brushing her thumb over the bruise on his eye.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” He told her, he’d completely forgotten he was even in pain after she admitted his feelings for her. 

“Promise?” She whispered. 

“I promise,” He kissed the tip of her nose and then laid down next to her, wrapping her in his arms. She hooked her leg around his waist and nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck. “I love you Y/N.” He whispered. 

Y/N smiled, he could feel her lips curving against him, “I love you too Harry.” 

Y/N woke up the next morning with a smile on her face. Memories of last night flashing through her mind like each individual scene from a movie reel. Her whole body was filled with warmth, her core aching from the acts she had partaken in just last night. 

She turned over, expecting to see Harry still asleep beside her only to find an empty space. With a frown, she sat up and ran her fingers through her knotted hair, searching for her underwear and the sweater she had borrowed from him yesterday to cover herself up. 

She crawled out of the tent and glanced around, trying to find the man she had confessed her feelings to. She hoped he was somewhere smoking a cigarette or maybe decided to go for a swim before they had to make the hike back to the Air Base later on. 

Y/N stood on shaky legs and wrapped her arms around herself. She caught sight of Sonny and Patsy walking over with a bucket of fresh water. Y/N waved and tried her best to smile at them even though the feeling of dread began to swarm in the pit of her stomach. Sonny’s head turned in her direction and his expression faltered , “Hey guys,” Y/N said, her voice slightly raspy, “H-Have any of you seen Harry this morning?”

The uneasy silence that followed, punctuated by the grim expressions on Sonny and Patsy's faces, already made Y/N regret ever asking the question in the first place.

p.s y/n is on birth control just wanna make that clear heh

taglist: @ribbonknives @scorpiotulipicon @hermionelove @champagnepronlemsxxxx @n0vaj3an @roxyfan14-blog @avasbeanie @idontcareforausernamesblog @tpwksummer  @celesterry @love-letters-to-uranus @boredhsblog @tpwk-harry-styles @groupieloveclub @estaticheart @unknownkii @royaler1999 @lovebittenbyevans

[llamaqueenprompt]

What You Mean to Me

Characters: Evan Buckley, Reader

Not Requested

Word Count: 1.6k

Inspiration: "You don't even realize what you mean to me"

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

❁ Find out who I write for HERE

❁ Go to my Masterlist HERE

❁ See the requests guidelines HERE

❁ Send me a request HERE

As he walks in the firehouse feels different.

Not in any obvious way. The lights are dimmed, the hum of the fridge still buzzes in the background, and someone left their coffee mug in the sink again. But Buck can feel it. Like the air’s heavier. Or maybe it’s just him.

He moves slowly through the halls, each step eachoing back louder than the last, like the firehouse is holding it’s breathe just like him. He’s still reeling. Still trying to process everything Abby said. Everything she didn’t say.

He tought it would give him closure. Seeing her again. Hearing her voice. Actually talking to her. But if anything it just peeled open wold wounds that had never fully healed.

She’s getting married. She’s finally happy again. And Buck? Buck is standing here, heart cracked open and filled with the image of someone else entirely.

Y/n.

He finds her in the back office, exactly where he knew she’d be. She’s leaning over her desk cluttered with paperwork and half-empty coffee cups, her glasses sliding down her nose and a pen twirling between her fingers. She looks tired, like she’s been working too long. Like maybe she’s been waiting up.

When she sees him, she glances up, and the second their eyes meet, something shifts.

“Hey,” she says, softly. Gently. Like she’s afraid she might startle him away. “You’re back.”

He nods, his throat thick. “Yeah. Just got in.”

Y/n straightens, setting the pen down carefully. “How… how did it go?”

Buck leans agaisnt the doorframe, arms folded across his chest to offer him a sense of security. “We talked. About the train. About…everything.”

She nods, and her eyes flick away, like she doesn’t want him to see what she’s thinking. But he sees it anayway, the flicker od pain, the way her shoulders tense.

“She’s engaged,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “She met someone. Moved on.”

There’s a long silence.

Y/n swallows hard. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

But he shakes his head, stepping into the room. “No. Don’t be. That’s not why I’m here.”

She watches him carefully, warily. Like she’s bracing herself.

And she has every right to. Because what they had, what they have, has always lived on a fragile space. Somewhere between friendship and something more. Something unspoken. Their arrangement started with laughter and tequile and whispered “just this once” promises that turned into every night, and breakfast, and inside jokes, and familiarity that felt an awful lot like home.

They acted like a couple. They felt like one.

But Buck never let them be one. Not completely. Not whule Abby still haunted the edges of his heart.

And Y/n… God, Y/n stayed. She never asked for more. But he saw it. In the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. In the way she said goodbye a little too softly each time he left her apartment.

She loved him. And he let her sit in silenece with it all this time.

“I need to tell you something,” he says, and his voice wavers.

Y/n tilts her head, her hands curling around the edge of the desk. She doesn’t speak. Just waits.

“When Abby left,” Buck begins, “I felt like I’d lost a part of myself. Like I wasn’t enough. Like I’d been left behind.” He lets out a shaky breath. “And then you came in. All sharp wit and warm smiles and coffee with may too much cream. You made everything lighter, Y/n. You made me lighter.”

She blinks fast, her lips parting, but he keeps going.

“And I told myself it wasn’t real. That if I didn’t name it, it couldn’t hurt. That if I pretended it didn’t mean anything, I could keep you without the risk of losing you.”

Her voice is barely a whisper. “But you were still holding onto her.”

He nods. “I was. And that’s not fair to you. It never was.”

Y/n looks down at her hands, her fingers tightening. “I told myself I could handle it. That I could keep you in pieces instead of not having you at all. But it hurt, Buck. Watching you love a ghost while I stood right in front of you.”

“I know,” he says, his chest tight. “And I’m so sorry for that. I should’ve said this a long time ago. I should’ve seen it. Seen you.”

He steps closer, close enought now that he can see the shine in her eyes, the way she’s holding herself still like she’s afraid one wrong move will make everything fall apart.

“I don’t know when it happened,” he says softly. “Maybe the night you stayed up with me after I got hurt. Or when you showed up at the hospital with snacks you knew I wouldn’t eat but brought anyway. Or that morning you kissed my forehead and didn’t realize I was already awake.”

Her breath hitches.

“I just know I looked at you tonight, and everything clicked. I didn’t want to go back in time. I didn’t want to rewrite anything with Abby. I just wanted to come home. To you.”

He reaches for her hand, hesitates, then wraps his fingers around hers when she doesn’t pull away.

“You don’t even realize what you mean to me,” he hesitates. “But I want you to. I want to show you. If you’ll let me.”

Y/n’s eyes close for a moment, and when she open them, they’re glassy with tears.

“You really mean that?” she asks, voice trembling.

He cups her cheek, brushing away a tear with the pad of his thumb. “With everything I’ve got.”

And then she’s pulling him in.

No hesitation, no fear, just her resting her arms around his neck and fingers tangled in his hair like she’s afraid if she’s not touching him as much as possible, he’ll disappear aagain. Buck doesn’t waste a seconf. He holds her back just as tightly, his face buried in her shoulder, like maybe if he presses close enoigh, all the pieces of him, she’s quietly been carrying, will finally come home.

For a moment, neither of them speak. They just breathe. One another. Their feelings for each other.

The silence stretches, but it’s not awkward or heavy. It’s safe. Intimate. The kind of silence that only comes when words aren’t big wnough to hold everything between two people.

Eventually, Y/n pulls back just enough to look at him, her forehead still resting gently against his. Her eyes search his face, as if she’s memorizing the way he looks he looks at her like she is his world.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” she murmurs, the corners of her mouth trembling with the beginnings of a smile.

He exhales a soft laugh, one hand still resting on her wais. “I think I’ve been saying it without words for months. I just didn’t realize it.”

Y/n runs her fingers through his hair, slow and tentative, like she’s still trying to convince herself she isn’t dreaming. “I used to imagine this moment. You showing up, saying you wanted me. Choosing me. But I always woke up before the good part.”

“This is the good part,” Buck says, his voice low and certain.

She laughs, a watery, broken sound, and presses a hand to his chest, right over his heart. “I was so scared you’d go see her and realize I was just… a placeholder. Someone to make the quiet nights easier.”

“You were never a placeholder,” he says fiercely, his hand coming up to cover hers. “Y/n, you filled the space I dind’t could ever be filled. You brought me back to myself. You’ve been there tjrough every storm, and I was too blind to see that you weren’t just helping me survive…you were the reason I wanted to.”

He watched as her eyes fill again, but this time, it’s not just pain. It’s from love, open and shining and completely unhidden now.

She leans in, brushing her lips to his, soft at first, just a question, and when he answers with a deep, reverent kiss in return, it feel like the beginning of everything they never tjought they’d get to have.

The kiss in gentle and slow, not rushed like the stolen ones in dim hallways or post-shift goodbyes. It’s full of everything they’d left unsaid: I missed you. I wanted you. I love you.

When they finally break apart, Buck rests his forehead against hers again, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“I want to do this right. No hiding. No halfway. I want breakfasts with terrible coffee and real dates and someone who keep stealing my hoodies even though she has her own.”

Y/n grins, teary-eyed and radiant. “I make your coffee better than anyone here, and you know it.”

“I do,” he says, his smile wide and boyish and utterly Buck. “And I want to fall asleep next to you without pretending it’s just for tonight. I want to wake up knowing I don’t have to say goodbye when I leave. I want us.”

Y/n nods, emotion tightening her throat, but she still finds the words. “Then we’re done pretending.”

He brushes a kiss to her forehead, then her temple, then finally, her lips again, soft and sure.

Outside, the firehouse is still. Quiet. But inside this small office, everything has shifted. The weight has lifted. The longing has found its answer.

And for the first time in a long time, Buck isn’t running toward the past.

He’s standing still, holding the future in his arms.