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mingi-s-dimples · 4 months ago

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「 Daddy's Summer Fling - J.YH 」

"So soft, baby… wonder if you’d shiver like this if I touched you somewhere else..”

~"Dilf Yunho x Daughter's best friend. She visits her friends place for the summer where her dad will be too. Reader is attracted to him, things ensue, ~ anon

pairing: dilf!yunho x fem student!reader

genre: 18+, filth

summary: your friend has a wonderful idea of asking you to spend the summer at her father’s vacation house... little did you know you'd not only spend the nights there.. but also nights with him.

wc: 9.9k

warnings: dilf!yunho, college student! reader, age gap (about 18 years - 20/38), virgin reader, daddy kink, size kink, praise & slight drgradation, overstimulation, manhandling, voyeurism/exhibitionism (semi-public/public touches), slight corruption kink, slight oral fixation (finger and cock sucking), light breath play (choking), face fucking, cum eating, fingering, dacryphilia, praise kink, cockwarming, breeding kink, marking, backshots, huge cock!yunho, pain kink, possessiveness, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!), completely consensual, for sureeee forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Notes: this was insaneeee to write... sorry anon for taking me so long, I had to write it as well as possible and well- it has almost 10k words. whoops. I hope you enjoy this lil (metaphorically speaking) fic and if you do don't hesitate to dm me or send me an anon ask with your thoughts! ♡

Reminder that reblogs, comments and likes help lots with my engagement and I will forever be grateful for each of you ♡

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

“You should come with me to visit my dad over this summer,” your best friend had suggested one lazy afternoon, sprawled out on your dorm room bed. “He has this amazing summer house by the lake—huge place, so we’ll have all the space we need to chill. Plus, I barely get to see him during the school year, so I try to spend as much time there as I can.”

You had hesitated at first, not because you didn’t want to go, but because it felt… intimate. Staying at her father’s house for an extended period wasn’t like crashing at her dorm or her mom’s place back in the city. It was different. Personal. But when she assured you he wouldn’t mind—that, in fact, he’d be happy to have you over—you agreed.

And now, as you stepped out of your parents’ car, the summer heat blanketing your skin, you were beyond grateful you’d said yes.

The house was beautiful—exactly how she had described it. Rustic yet modern, tucked away in nature with a view of the lake in the distance. But none of that held your attention. No, your focus was entirely on the man standing in the courtyard.

He had his back to you at first, broad and impossibly strong, the muscles in his shoulders shifting as he raised a hand to wipe sweat from his brow. His tanned skin gleamed under the sunlight, glistening with sweat as he worked, the flex of his biceps hypnotizing as he adjusted something on the wooden fence. Your throat went dry. He was gorgeous—tall, built like a dream, dark hair damp and tousled. Holy fuck.

“Who is that?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself, eyes locked onto him.

Your best friend glanced at where you were staring, then grinned. “Oh, that’s my dad.”

Your stomach dropped. Her dad. As in, her father. The man you had just been shamelessly ogling like he was carved from marble. Heat flooded your face so fast it made you lightheaded. You tried to snap your gaze away, but it was too late—he had turned, sharp brown eyes locking onto yours.

And just like that, you were even more screwed. Because now that you could see his face, he was somehow even hotter. A sharp jawline, high cheekbones, a hint of stubble across his chin. His lips were full, slightly parted as he caught his breath from whatever work he’d been doing. His gaze flickered over you once, quick but assessing, before settling on your best friend.

You forced yourself to look away, heart hammering. This was going to be a long summer.

You managed to shake off your embarrassment—at least on the surface—as your best friend ran up to hug her father. He greeted her with a warm smile, wrapping an arm around her before turning his attention to you.

“So you’re the infamous best friend I’ve been hearing about,” he said, his voice smooth, deep, and effortlessly confident. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Infamous? Your best friend had talked about you to him? You swallowed hard, forcing a polite smile as you shook the hand he offered. His grip was firm, fingers warm and slightly rough from whatever work he’d been doing. “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Jeong.”

He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. “Just Yunho is fine. ‘Mr. Jeong’ makes me feel ancient.”

You nodded, cheeks still warm. Yunho. Just Yunho. That was going to be a problem.

After unloading your bags and settling into the guest room, you spent the afternoon exploring the property. The house was just as stunning inside as it was outside—spacious, open, with large windows that overlooked the lake. As the sun dipped lower, the heat softened, replaced by the golden glow of early evening.

That’s how you found yourself outside, sitting on the wooden steps of the back porch, watching the water shimmer under the setting sun. Your best friend had gone to take a call inside, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Or at least, you thought you were alone.

“You like it here?”

You nearly jumped at the deep voice, turning to find Yunho standing nearby. He had changed out of his sweaty work clothes, now in a loose button-up with the top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He looked even better like this—casual, effortless.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, gripping your knees to keep your hands from fidgeting. “It’s beautiful.”

He hummed, stepping forward to lean against the railing. “I try to come out here as much as I can. It’s quiet, peaceful. Good place to get away from everything.”

You nodded, watching the water ripple as a breeze passed through. “I can see why.”

There was a comfortable silence before he spoke again. “You seem a little nervous.”

You stiffened. Was it that obvious? “I—no,” you lied. “Just… new place, new environment.”

His lips twitched, not quite a smirk but close. “Well, make yourself at home. You’re welcome here.”

The way he said it—low, slow, with that smooth voice of his—made something stir inside you. You could feel his eyes on you, heavier than before, like he was actually looking at you now. Not just as his daughter’s best friend, but as something else.

You swallowed, shifting under his gaze. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence. Then he chuckled, shaking his head as he looked back at the lake. “You remind me of someone.”

You tilted your head. “Who?”

A pause. Then, quietly, “Me.”

That threw you off. “You?”

He nodded. “When I was younger, I was like that too. A little quiet, a little unsure. Always overthinking instead of just… enjoying things.”

Your brows furrowed slightly. “You don’t seem like that now.”

“I’m not,” he admitted. “Life has a way of changing you.”

His voice had dropped, just a little. And you couldn’t help but wonder what had changed him—what had made him go from the person he used to be to the man standing in front of you now. For the first time, you weren’t just seeing him as your best friend’s father. You were seeing him.

Before you could respond, the screen door creaked open, and your best friend came rushing out, practically bouncing on her feet.

“Oh! I just had the best idea!” she announced, completely oblivious to the subtle shift in energy between you and her father. “Let’s go swimming! The lake is so warm this time of year, and the sun’s setting—it’s perfect.”

You blinked, still processing your conversation with Yunho, but she was already grabbing your hand. “Come on, you brought your swimsuit, right? Let’s change and go!”

You barely had a chance to glance at Yunho before she was dragging you inside.

Minutes later, you found yourself standing at the edge of the dock, the lake stretching endlessly in front of you. The last of the sunlight cast everything in a golden glow, the water lapping gently at the wooden beams beneath your feet.

Your best friend was already diving in, splashing as she resurfaced with a grin. “Come on! It’s perfect!”

Taking a breath, you stepped forward, adjusting the strings of your bikini before following her in. The water was warmer than expected, smooth and inviting as it wrapped around your skin. You surfaced with a gasp, wiping droplets from your lashes.

And then you saw him. Yunho had just emerged from the house, walking toward the dock with an easy, unbothered stride. He had changed into black swim trunks, the drawstrings hanging loose over his hips. But what really got you—what made your breath hitch—was his bare torso.

You’d thought he was attractive before. But now? Seeing him like this, all toned muscle and golden skin, veins running down his forearms, droplets of water from his damp hair trailing down his chest—he looked like he belonged on the cover of some magazine.

And then his gaze flicked to yours.

It was barely a second, just a glance as he stepped onto the dock, but it sent something sharp through you. His eyes lingered—just a little too long—before he turned away, stretching his arms overhead like he hadn’t just knocked the air from your lungs.

You quickly ducked your head, hoping your face wasn’t as red as it felt.

A loud splash pulled you from your thoughts as Yunho finally joined you both in the water. He swam easily, his strokes controlled, smooth, before he surfaced near you. The lake was big, but suddenly it felt too small, his presence swallowing the space between you.

Your best friend, oblivious as ever, floated on her back a few feet away, humming to herself.

And that’s when it started.

The first touch was barely anything—just a brush of his arm against yours as he swam past you. But it was deliberate. The second came when he surfaced beside you again, his hand grazing your back under the water. You froze, lips parting slightly, but he didn’t even look at you. Like nothing had happened.

Then, when you shifted to float on your back, your stomach grazing the surface, something firm, warm, pressed again against your lower back—his hand. Just for a second. A silent, lingering touch that sent heat spiraling through your body.

He was testing you.

And then, just when you thought you were imagining it all, when you thought maybe you were overreacting—

His fingers brushed your hand again. More lingering.. A featherlight touch, fleeting but unmistakable. Your breath caught in your throat.

But when you turned to look at him, his expression was unreadable. Calm. Unbothered. Like he hadn’t just crossed a line neither of you could take back.

You tried to focus on the water, on the way the golden ripples shimmered around you, on anything but the weight of Yunho’s fingers barely grazing your thigh under the surface.

But you couldn’t. Not when your body felt hot despite the cool lake, not when your mind kept replaying every subtle touch, every lingering glance. And definitely not when you could feel him watching you.

Yunho let out a quiet hum, tilting his head slightly. "You’re not very good at hiding it, sweetheart. The way your eyes drop to my hands, my arms… like you’re imagining them all over you."

And then, just when you thought you had a grip on yourself, Yunho moved closer. Not much—just enough that you could feel the water shift between you, enough that his shoulder brushed yours again, his skin warm even in the cool lake.

He was too close. But not close enough. You exhaled shakily. “You’re making it worse.”

His lips twitched, gaze dropping briefly—to your lips?—before meeting your eyes again. “Am I?” It wasn’t fair. The way he spoke, the way he looked at you now—like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he was enjoying it.

But you weren’t innocent either. Not when you found yourself leaning in just slightly, not when you let your fingers skim the surface of the water between you, almost—almost—brushing against his chest before pulling away.

His jaw tightened, just for a second.

“Careful, baby.” he murmured.

It wasn’t a warning. It was a challenge.

Your breath hitched, fingers curling against your palm. You wanted to push. You wanted to see just how much you could pull from him, how far he’d let you go before he finally cracked.

But before you could say anything, before you could cross a line you weren’t sure you could come back from—

“Alright, I’m freezing,” your best friend announced, completely shattering the moment as she waded toward the dock. “I’m gonna make some hot cocoa. You guys coming?”

You inhaled sharply, blinking as if snapping out of a trance. Yunho was still watching you, his expression unreadable, but he said nothing as he turned away, swimming toward the dock with effortless strokes.

You hesitated, heart still racing, before following after them.

The sun was dipping lower now, painting the sky with streaks of orange and purple. Your best friend had already climbed onto the dock, shaking herself off with a giggle.

“Hurry up, you two!” she called, turning around. “The sun’s almost gone, and I want marshmallows and hot cocoa before it’s dark!”

You barely had time to respond before she disappeared inside the house.

But you didn’t need to.

You could feel Yunho beside you, his presence undeniable, heavy in the air like a magnet pulling you closer.

Without saying a word, you both followed your best friend back into the warmth of the house. The kitchen was cozy, and your best friend was already pulling out skewers and marshmallows from the cupboard, humming happily to herself.

The porch door opened wide, and she called to you both, “You guys coming? The fire pit’s waiting!”

Yunho glanced over his shoulder at you before stepping outside. The heat in his gaze was unmistakable now. It made your pulse skip, and you tried to focus on anything other than the way he’d looked at you in the lake.

Your best friend immediately took a seat by the fire, poking the marshmallow onto the end of her skewer with an exaggerated flourish. You sat beside her, glancing at Yunho, who was standing slightly behind you. His eyes flicked to yours for the briefest moment, but you couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not. The heat of his gaze, as if he was searching for something on your face. Without thinking, you grabbed a marshmallow from the bag and stuck it onto the skewer. Your hands shook slightly, but you tried to ignore it.

The fire crackled, snapping in the still air, and your best friend shifted, glancing between you and Yunho with a teasing smile. “You guys are awfully quiet. Someone’s gotta talk! Tell me you’ve been getting along.” Your best friend was too chill for your liking.. maybe because her father had her young and had a closer bond with him but, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of being wanted by him. That feeling only made it worse for you all day.

You forced a smile, but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts kept drifting to the way his hand had brushed against yours in the water, how close he had been when you were swimming. How every interaction between you felt charged with something unspoken.

As the marshmallows started to brown over the fire, you felt Yunho step closer. You didn’t look up at him, but you could feel his presence. The way his body loomed over yours, the subtle shift in his posture that told you he was right there—watching.

The fire crackled, the only sound between you, and you could feel his breath just behind your ear.

"You're so easy to mess with, baby. One little touch and you're already breathless”, Yunho murmured, his voice low and barely audible over the crackling flames. “It’s hard to focus when you’re right here…”

Your breath caught in your throat. Did he really just say that?

Your best friend, oblivious, leaned forward, blowing air at her marshmallow to cool it down. “What are you two talking about? Are y’all gossiping about me, huh? I’m dying to know!”

You nearly jumped when Yunho shifted his weight, stepping away just slightly. But the damage had been done—the tension between you two was now palpable.

You glanced at him quickly, just enough to catch him looking back at you, a hint of something dangerous in his eyes.

You took a deep breath and shoved the marshmallow into the flames, letting it burn just a little too much. It was easier to focus on the heat of the fire than the heat of Yunho’s gaze. But you knew, deep down, that the fire wasn’t the only thing burning between you.

The marshmallows were finished, the sweet gooey centers burnt just enough to give them that perfect crisp, and your best friend was happily munching away, occasionally giving you a sly look.

You tried to ignore the fire that was burning between you and Yunho. You could feel him, the heat of his body next to yours as you both stared at the flickering flames.

You didn't dare look at him directly. The air felt too heavy, and your best friend didn’t notice—too distracted by the phone in her hand.

“Hold on,” she said, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “It’s my boyfriend. I’ll just be a sec.” She took the call, stepping away from the fire pit for some privacy.

You were left in a silence with Yunho. He didn’t move at first, simply letting the sound of the crackling fire fill the space. His gaze didn’t leave you, though. You could feel it, like a weight on your skin, every subtle look making your breath hitch.

A few moments passed before Yunho shifted slightly closer to you.

“You know,” he started, voice hushed but laced with that trademark smoothness, “you look stunning tonight.” Your pulse jumped. You barely managed to glance at him, catching the subtle tilt of his head.

You didn’t respond immediately, unsure of how to form words when your body was begging you to lean into the heat of his touch. But you had to. “Thanks,” you mumbled, fingers gripping your cup just a little too tightly.

The corner of his lips quirked up into that teasing smile, and your heart thudded in your chest. He reached out, his fingers brushing gently against your thigh, just the lightest contact—but enough to make your breath catch.

He didn’t take his hand away, though, leaving it there as if it belonged. His touch was light, almost like a warning, and every inch of you wanted more.

"You're not fooling me," he murmured, his voice low. "All those little touches, all those innocent looks. You knew exactly what you were doing, sweetheart."

You swallowed, feeling the heat surge through your veins. "Is that so?"

Yunho’s thumb traced a small circle on the inside of your thigh, slow, deliberate. You could barely breathe. The tension between you two was excruciating, and the only thing you could do was sit there, trying to keep yourself together, trying not to collapse under the pressure of his touch.

"So soft, baby… wonder if you’d shiver like this if I touched you somewhere else..”,he said softly, his breath warm against your ear. He saw his daughter coming back, but before he moved his hand away, he reassured you, his voice low, “I'll make it up to you later.”

Before you could respond, your best friend walked back in, phone still pressed to her ear.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” she said, her voice filled with excitement. “Okay, love you, see you soon!”

She hung up, and you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. Yunho removed his hand, but you could still feel the faint heat of his touch, like a lingering burn against your skin.

“Looks like someone’s got plans,” Yunho said, glancing at you and then at his daughter. You raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool.

“Yeah, I’m going to my boyfriend’s place for a couple of hours. He just got into town, and I promised I’d see him while he’s here.” She smiled at Yunho, her eyes bright with excitement.

You felt a little knot form in your stomach, not because you weren’t happy for her, but because now it was just you and Yunho. Alone.

“Of course,” Yunho replied smoothly, his voice warmer now, more amused. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Have fun.”

You watched your best friend rush off, her steps quick as she headed toward the door, ready to leave. The moment she stepped outside, the door closing behind her, the tension in the room shifted.

The marshmallows had all been roasted and eaten, the warmth from the fire still lingering in the air as you and Yunho began cleaning up the plates. Your best friend promised she’d be back in an hour.

Yunho's gaze lingering just a little too long, his fingers brushed against yours as you handed him a plate, and you tried to ignore the spark that shot up your arm.

“So,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “do you always roast marshmallows this late?”

Yunho chuckled, his eyes glinting in the soft kitchen light. “Only when the company’s worth it.”

You glanced up at him, feeling your heart skip a beat at the intensity in his eyes. But before you could reply, his phone buzzed.

He picked it up, swiping the screen with one hand while keeping his other hand casually resting on the counter.

“Everything okay?” you asked, casually, though the beat of your heart had quickened.

Yunho nodded, though his smile had turned a little more amused. “Yeah, just got a message from my daughter.”

He read through it and then let out a little chuckle, his tone warm but with an edge of something else. “She’s staying at her boyfriend’s tonight.”

“That so?” you said, trying to play it cool, even as the weight of his words settled over you.

He put the phone down, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The atmosphere had shifted, the air between you suddenly thick with tension. “Guess we’re alone now.”

Your breath hitched, your pulse quickening in response to his proximity.

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart race. “Guess so,” you whispered, trying to keep your cool, though every inch of you was on edge.

He leaned even closer, his body just a hair's breadth away from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, making your skin burn.

“Well,” Yunho said, his voice low, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “I think we can find something to do with all this time, don’t you?”

He didn’t take his eyes off you as he stepped closer, his movements deliberate, slow—each step calculated, bringing him nearer to you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you instinctively took a small step back, but the moment you did, he closed the distance, forcing you to press your back against the cool, hard wall behind you.

He didn’t touch you at first. He simply stood there, watching you, his eyes dark and intent, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his gaze unwavering.

Yunho murmured, his voice a low, teasing drawl. "You’ve been looking at me like you want something, sweetheart. Why don’t you tell me?"

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your chest tightening. It was like he was daring you to run—daring you to pull away from him—but you couldn’t. Your body wanted him too much.

“I…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say, your heart pounding in your chest.

His smile widened just a little, a flicker of something dark in his gaze as he stepped closer again, pushing you further back against the wall.

His hand, warm and confident, landed on your hip, his fingers lightly brushing your skin. He gave you a moment to adjust, to feel him there, testing the waters.

You didn’t pull away. You didn’t want to. In fact, your body seemed to lean into the touch, craving more, eager for him to push further.

He noticed. The slight shift of your body, the way your chest fluttered with every breath. His eyes darkened, and with a sharp inhale, his hand moved up to your waist, his fingers grazing the side of your ribs.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “Are you okay with this?”

Your heart raced, your mind spinning. You wanted to speak, to tell him yes, but all you could do was nod, too lost in the way his hand made you feel.

Yunho’s gaze flickered to your lips for a split second before it returned to your eyes. "That’s not enough for you, is it, baby?”

You didn’t need to say anything. The way you leaned into him, the way your breath hitched, the way your body trembled under his touch said it all.

Without warning, he cupped your chin with his other hand, forcing your head up just slightly as his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was soft at first, his mouth teasing, coaxing, exploring with the gentlest pressure. You melted into it, your hands slipping up to rest on his chest.

But then his hand slid down to your lower back, and the kiss deepened. It was like a switch flipped inside of him. His kiss grew more insistent, more urgent, as if he couldn’t wait any longer.

His other hand slid up to your chest, cupping the side of your breast. The pressure was light, just enough to make your heart race faster. His lips left yours to trail down your jaw, kissing your neck, while his hand slid lower.

Your body was burning. Every nerve felt alive, tingling with need. You felt your knees weaken as his hand moved beneath the hem of your shirt, fingertips grazing the soft skin of your stomach.

When you leaned into him again, desperate for more of his touch, he smirked, knowing full well how much power he had over you.

“Tell me, baby…” he started as the hand on your lower back moved to your pants, unbuttoning them. His hand trailed around your waist until it slipped right in your panties. “...did you get this wet just by thinking about me?”

You whimpered under his touch… And that’s when he got rougher.

His hands moved quickly, more forceful now, pulling you flush against him. He groaned as your bodies collided, the heat between you rising higher, his grip tightening around your waist as he pressed his hips into yours.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Yunho growled, his lips brushing your ear. “And I’m going to make sure you know it.”

Yunho’s hands were a whirlwind of heat and strength, gripping you tightly as he pulled you against him. His lips brushed against your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your skin, and his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine.

"You wanted my attention, and now you have it. Let’s see if you can handle it.” he murmured, his voice a deep, rough whisper that made your heart race. His hands moved down your sides, squeezing your hips with a possessive grip. "You’ve been such a good girl, waiting for this… dripping for me. You want your reward, don’t you?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry, as your body responded without you even realizing it. He was so close now, his knee between your thighs, pushing them apart, his touch firm, demanding. You could feel the heat between your legs, the desperate throb of your pussy as your body instinctively shifted closer to him.

“I—yes,” you gasped, your voice small but desperate. “I want it... but...”

Yunho froze, his hands tightening on your hips as his eyes snapped to yours.

“But... what?” he growled, his voice low.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the tension building, before you finally admitted, “I—I’m a virgin.”

Yunho cursed under his breath, his eyes darkening with both frustration and something darker—desire. His grip tightened almost painfully on your waist, his voice a rough rasp as he responded, “Fuck.” He took a slow breath, his hands sliding down to your lower back, his fingertips brushing against the sensitive skin.

“You’re telling me... you’ve never been fucked before?” His tone was thick with disbelief, but it only made your body ache for him more.

“No,” you breathed, your hands hovering softly over his chest, desperate for his touch. “I—I’ve never...”

“"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath, raking a hand through his hair before gripping your waist. His touch was firmer now, like he was holding himself back. His gaze flickered over your face, dark with something primal. "You’ve really never…?" He exhaled sharply, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. "Fuck. That means every little sound, every little reaction—" He swallowed hard, his voice dropping. "All of it’s gonna be just for me."

He moved his knee between your legs again, pressing harder, spreading you open with a force that had your head spinning. His hands slid up to your chest, the heat from his touch making your skin burn as he cupped your breasts roughly, squeezing and kneading them through your clothes.

His lips descended on yours, kissing you with an intensity that took your breath away, his hands working at the fastenings of your clothes, undoing them with unrelenting precision.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he muttered, his hands caressing every inch of your exposed skin. He kissed your neck, your collarbone, his lips trailing down to your breasts, and you gasped, your body trembling from the touch. “And all mine tonight.”

You were barely able to comprehend it all as Yunho’s hands worked their way down your body, his touch rough, almost possessive as he teased you, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin between your legs. You moaned, unable to help it, and he grinned darkly, his eyes flashing with a predatory glint.

“You’re mine tonight,” he repeated, the words burning in your ears. “And I’ll make sure you never forget that.”

He lifted you easily, carrying you to the bedroom with a single-minded purpose, and when he dropped you onto the bed, the weight of his body followed immediately. He crawled over you, his eyes never leaving yours, and you felt the heat from his body overwhelm you.

Yunho’s lips ghosted over yours, his voice a low rasp. "This is what you wanted, isn’t it?"

His knee pressed between your legs, parting them effortlessly. His breath hitched as his fingers trailed up your thighs—slow, teasing—before slipping between them. Testing. Barely touching.

And then, he felt it.

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Uh-oh… already so, so wet for me, baby?" His fingers pressed in just enough to make you gasp. "Guess I don’t even have to ask how bad you need this."

You couldn’t help but nod, your body aching for more, your chest heaving with desire. “P-please…”

He cursed again, his voice thick with frustration, and then, with a growl, he lifted you off the bed, moving you effortlessly to his side. “You better be ready for this, sweetheart. Because I’m not going easy on you.”

Yunho’s lips were relentless against yours, claiming your mouth with a messy, desperate hunger. His tongue pushed past your lips, licking into you with no hesitation, no restraint—wet, hot, possessive. His teeth grazed your lower lip, tugging roughly before he slanted his mouth over yours again, deeper, hungrier, like he wanted to ruin you with just his kiss.

His hands were everywhere at once—gripping, kneading, stroking. He squeezed your waist before sliding lower, grabbing at your ass. The heat between your legs pulsed, your body arching instinctively into his as he pressed his weight down onto you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, flipping you around and pushing your chest into the wall. He tilted your head toward him, kissing you sloppily. He pressed himself against your ass, letting you feel just how eager he was to ruin you. “Feel this, baby..? That's just how much I want you”

You gasped into his mouth, your fingers clawing at the wall, desperate for something to hold on to. His hands moved higher, shoving your shirt up, his rough palms trailing over your bare skin, lighting a fire everywhere he touched.

“Need this off,” he muttered, voice hoarse as he yanked the fabric over your head. His mouth was on your shoulder in an instant, sucking harsh bruises into your skin, marking you, owning you.

You barely had a second to breathe before his hands moved again—one slipping on your back to unclasp your bra, the other gripping your hip, pressing you harder against the thick bulge in his jeans. He groaned as your bare breasts pressed against the wall.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your thighs before tossing them aside. “So fucking pretty,” he murmured, his hand trailing between your legs, fingertips teasing along your slit. “So wet for me already.” he said as he lowered himself on his knees, kisses trailing from your shoulder to your lower back, the to the soft, plush skin of your ass.

You whimpered, legs twitching as he rubbed slow, deliberate circles over your clit, the pressure just enough to drive you insane. Your hips bucked into his hand, chasing more friction, and he smirked against your skin. “Impatient, huh?”.

But before you could whine, after he was done with his sloppy, soft trail of kisses, he suddenly got up and backed off. Your breath caught as you turned around and watched him reach for his own shirt, yanking it off and tossing it to the floor. His body was all hard muscle, broad shoulders flexing as he undid his belt, the soft clink of metal making your core clench with anticipation. He made a show of unbuttoning his jeans, shoving them down his thighs before kicking them off entirely, leaving him in just his boxers.

And that’s when you saw it. Your eyes widened, breath hitching as you stared at the thick, straining outline beneath the thin fabric. He was huge.

Yunho let out a low chuckle, catching your reaction. His gaze was dark, hungry, smug. “What’s wrong, baby?” he teased, palming himself through his boxers, giving a slow, deliberate squeeze. “Didn’t expect me to be this big?”

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. “I—”

His smirk deepened as he leaned back down over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Don’t worry. I’ll make it fit.”

Yunho didn't give you a chance to process, didn't let you catch your breath before he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and shoved them down.

Your gasp was instant, raw, eyes widening as his cock sprang free--thick, heavy, flushed deep at the tip. The veins running along the shaft stood out, prominent, like they were made to be traced with your own little tongue. He was so fucking big, the kind of size that made your thighs press together with both pleasure and just a little bit of fear.

Yunho caught the way you stared, your lips parting like you wanted to speak but couldn’t. His grin was slow, dark, as he stroked himself—letting you watch.

"That pretty little mouth of yours can’t even find the words, huh?" His voice was thick with amusement, his eyes locked on you. "That’s alright, baby… I’d rather have it wrapped around my cock anyway."

Your whimper was embarrassingly loud as he approached you, his hand slipping on your ass, and he chuckled, leaning down to press his lips against your ear. ""Say it.'' His voice was rough, commanding. "Say you want Daddy to fuck you.”

Your breath hitched, shame burning at your skin, but the need-the sheer, aching desperation-was stronger. "I -" You swallowed hard, gripping at his forearms,

fingers barely able to wrap around the thick muscles there. "I want Daddy to fuck me.

Yunho’s cock throbbed in his hand as he stroked himself slowly, watching you with dark, hooded eyes. His other hand was between your legs, two thick fingers buried inside your dripping cunt, stretching you open.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, his deep voice dripping with hunger as he curled his fingers just right, hitting that perfect spot that had your legs trembling. “Taking my fingers so well. Gonna feel so fucking good when I finally stretch you around my cock.”

Your whimper only made his smirk deepen. He pulled his fingers out slowly, dragging them against your walls before bringing them up to your mouth, pressing them against your lips. “Open.”

You obeyed instantly, parting your lips, letting him slide his fingers inside. The taste of yourself flooded your tongue, and Yunho groaned, watching as you sucked them clean, his cock twitching tall against his stomach.

“Fuck,” he growled, gripping the back of your head. “You’re gonna look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

He guided you down onto all fours between his spread thighs, his other hand still trailing between your legs, fingers teasing your swollen clit as he positioned you right in front of his cock. It was thick, flushed, the veins standing out as he stroked himself, making sure you saw just how big he was.

“Look at it, baby,” he murmured, the head of his cock brushing against your lips. “You’re gonna take your time with this, yeah? Let Daddy teach you how to suck it just right.”

You nodded, your breath warm against his cock as you hesitantly parted your lips. Yunho guided you with firm hands, his fingers threading through your hair as you took the swollen tip into your mouth.

“Good girl,” he groaned, tilting his head back as you wrapped your lips around him. “Fuck, yeah—just like that.”

His fingers between your legs moved in slow, lazy circles, teasing your clit as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper. He cursed under his breath, his grip tightening in your hair as he resisted the urge to thrust into your mouth.

“Relax your throat,” he murmured, voice strained. “Take more, baby. You can do it.”

You obeyed, inching down further, your tongue running along the prominent veins on the underside of his cock. Yunho let out a deep, shuddering breath, his hips twitching as he groaned, “Fuck—just like that.”

His fingers between your thighs finally pushed back inside you, stretching you open again as he fucked them into you in time with the slow, messy bob of your head. “God, you’re such a good fucking girl for me,” he panted, watching you take him, watching the way your thighs trembled from his touch.

His breathing grew ragged, his grip in your hair tightening as you swirled your tongue over the slit of his cock, tasting the salty precum. His hips jerked involuntarily, and a rough groan ripped from his throat.

“Gonna come,” he warned, voice wrecked, his cock throbbing on your tongue. “You gonna swallow like a good girl?”

You moaned around him, and that was it.

Yunho cursed, his muscles tensing as he came hard, thick ropes of cum spilling into your mouth. His grip on your hair loosened as he shuddered through it, his breath heavy and uneven.

You swallowed it all, licking your lips as you pulled back, and Yunho groaned at the sight, his thumb tracing your swollen lips. “Fuck, that was so hot,” he muttered, pulling you up onto the bed before pushing your back against the mattress.

His hands were rough as they gripped your thighs, spreading you open once more. His cock was still hard, still thick, still glistening from your mouth, and he smirked as he rubbed the tip against your soaked entrance.

“You did so well for me, baby,” he murmured, teasing you, pressing just the head inside before pulling back. “But we’re not done yet.”

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing slow, torturous circles as he grinned down at you.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Yunho hovered over you, his large hands spreading your thighs wide, his body radiating warmth as he settled between them. His cock was thick and hard, the head already pressing gently against your entrance, teasing, testing.

His eyes were dark with restraint, his breathing heavy as he ran his hands up your sides, smoothing over your ribs, your stomach, before cupping your jaw with a gentleness that had your heart skipping. “Relax, baby,” he murmured, voice softer now, coaxing. “Gonna take my time with you.”

He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, swallowing your nervous breath before slowly, slowly pushing inside.

The stretch was instant, overwhelming, burning and pleasurable all at once. Your fingers dug into his biceps, nails pressing into the thick veins running along his forearms as he worked himself deeper, stopping every few inches to let you adjust.

“Shh, I got you,” he soothed, lips brushing over your temple, his breath warm against your skin. His voice was a quiet hum of restraint, but his cock was throbbing inside you, twitching like he was holding himself back from burying himself to the hilt.

But then you gasped, body trembling as he pushed a little more, and Yunho froze, groaning as he realized—you still couldn’t even take half of him.

He pulled back just enough to watch, his gaze dark, hungry, as you struggled to take him. His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

His thumb traced over your clit—soft, teasing, not nearly enough. "Look at you," he murmured, voice rich with amusement. "Can’t even take half, huh? So damn tight… but don’t worry, baby—" his smirk deepened as he pressed in just a little more— "we’ll fix that."

You whimpered, thighs twitching as he pulled out just a bit, rubbing the thick head against your soaked entrance before pushing back in, just a little deeper this time. “Don’t worry,” he chuckled, his voice like warm honey laced with sin. “I’m gonna make it fit.”

His lips found yours, kissing you slow, deep, as he rolled his hips, easing himself deeper, inch by inch. His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, teasing your nipples, rubbing slow circles into your thigh. Every movement was designed to coax you open, to make you crave more.

The burn turned into pleasure, the ache shifting into something dangerously addictive. Yunho groaned when you finally relaxed around him, his cock sinking deeper, his restraint thinning as your walls clenched around him, sucking him in.

But just as he found his rhythm, just as he was kissing you slow, touching you sweetly— you decided to push him.

Your lips curled into the smallest, brattiest smirk, and you clenched down tight around him, rolling your hips up just slightly, even though it had you gasping from the intense stretch.

Yunho froze.

His breath stuttered, his muscles tensing beneath your hands. For a long second, he didn’t move. Just stared down at you, the flickering candlelight catching the veins on his arms, his neck, his cock buried deep inside you.

And then he let out a low, dangerous chuckle. “Oh, you wanna play dirty, huh?” His voice was different now—darker, deeper, rougher.

His grip on your thighs tightened, his thumbs pressing into your skin, and then, with zero warning, he snapped his hips forward, slamming himself deeper, forcing you to take all of him.

A strangled moan ripped from your throat, your back arching off the bed as the pleasure hit you like a fucking freight train.

“Thought you were struggling a second ago,” Yunho gritted out, his voice thick with amusement. His hands slid up your stomach, his fingertips brushing over your nipples, tweaking, teasing. “But now you’re acting like a little brat.”

He pulled out just enough before slamming back in, his restraint snapping thread by thread as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

"You want it rough, baby?" Yunho’s voice was a low growl, his teeth grazing your jaw—dangerously close to sinking in. His grip tightened, holding you in place as he rolled his hips, pushing deeper, stretching you open inch by inch.

"That’s it… take it," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. His cock dragged against your walls, thick, unrelenting, before he pulled back just enough to make you whimper.

"Don’t worry, sweetheart…" His smirk was pure sin as he thrust in again, slow but firm. "Daddy's gonna take care of you, make you feel so full.”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer.

Yunho’s hips slammed into yours, fucking you deep, hard, relentless—his hands gripping your wrists, pinning them above your head as his mouth found your breasts, biting, marking you everywhere.

His control was gone.

And you?

You had asked for this. Yunho had snapped.

The second you clenched around him—tight, desperate, involuntary—he lost every ounce of restraint.

His large hands gripped your thighs, forcing them even wider as he sank deeper, inch by devastating inch. You were so small compared to him, and fuck, the way your body struggled to take him made him groan deep in his chest.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice dark, rough with restraint. “So fucking tight—” He rolled his hips forward, pressing even deeper, making sure you felt every single inch of him. “Your little pussy wasn’t made for something this big, was it?”

Your breath hitched, fingers gripping onto his strong, veined forearms like they were your only anchor. The stretch was intense, burning, dizzying, but it was so good. You didn’t even realize you were whimpering, trembling beneath him.

“Poor baby,” he cooed, his huge hand cupping your jaw, thumb stroking over your parted lips. “Barely able to take me… but still trying to act like a little brat?”

You whimpered, your body tightening around him again, and Yunho groaned, jaw clenching as his cock throbbed inside you.

“Shit—” His grip tightened, veins bulging beneath his tan skin, muscles flexing as he held himself back. You were too fucking tight. Too untouched, unclaimed— and that only made his control slip even more.

He nudged against your cervix, the pressure sending a sharp wave of pleasure-pain through you, and you gasped, back arching beneath him.

And Yunho? He felt it. Every little clench, every tiny tremor. And it was driving him fucking crazy.

Your moan was helpless, needy, completely wrecked.

Yunho groaned again, his head dropping to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. “Fuck—you’re sucking me in so tight.”

And then—you did it again.

Clenching around him, squeezing down, teasing, despite the fact that you could barely handle him.

His hands slid up your stomach, teasing, slow, fingertips brushing over your breasts before wrapping around your throat, tilting your chin up so you had to look at him.

“You gonna cry for me, baby?” he murmured, mocking, teasing. “Can’t handle how deep Daddy is?”

The title sent another sharp pulse through your core, and Yunho felt it immediately.

His jaw clenched, his thick cock twitching inside you. “Oh, fuck–, you like that?” His fingers tightened slightly around your throat, just enough to make your breath stutter. “Like having my cock stretch you open? Like knowing I’m the first—the only—man who’ll ever break you in?”

You whimpered, head spinning, drowning in the filth of it all.

Then, with one smooth, effortless motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, his strong hands pressing into your back, keeping you pinned.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he rasped, voice rough, desperate, on the edge of losing it completely. “Wanted to be fucked properly?”

He pulled out just to slam back in, forcing you to take him deeper than ever, stretching you in ways you never thought possible.

Your moan was wrecked, broken, completely fucked-out.

“That’s it,” Yunho groaned, snapping his hips forward, his thick cock pressing against the deepest part of you. “Take it, baby. Take all of it.”

His grip on your hips was bruising, dragging you back onto his cock as he fucked you with long, deep strokes, each one knocking the air from your lungs.

With one hand, he gripped your waist, lifting it slightly as he rolled his hips into you, the sensation of him pressing against you was intoxicating. He moved slowly at first, his thrusts deliberate and deep, letting you feel every inch of him as he sank into you.

His other hand traveled down your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin before finding your clit. The moment he began to rub slow, teasing circles, you gasped, your body responding instinctively.

“Y-Yunho,” you whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensation of being stretched by him and the pleasure building within you.

“Just let it happen,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You can take it.”

You could feel the pressure building, both from his relentless thrusting and his skilled fingers working over your clit, drawing you closer to the edge. The combination was too much, and you felt tears slipping down your cheeks as he held you down, completely at his mercy.

“That's it,” he encouraged, his voice a low growl. “You’re doing so well for me.”

As his fingers worked faster, you felt yourself teetering on the brink, the overwhelming pleasure washing over you in intoxicating waves.

Yunho's fingers moved skillfully over your clit, the pressure inside you began to build, overwhelming your senses. Each thrust of his hips was deep and relentless, pushing you closer to an edge you had never known before.

“Oh, god,” you gasped, feeling the tight coil of pleasure tighten in your core. It was building, growing more intense with each movement, and you could hardly believe what was happening. This was your first orgasm, and it felt like everything was about to explode.

“Just let go, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and encouraging, like a siren calling you closer to the waves. “I know you can do it. You’re so close.”

With one final, deliberate thrust, his fingers increased their pace, and suddenly, the pressure released. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body shaking as you felt the orgasm wash through you for the first time. It was intense, all-consuming, and it left you breathless, your vision blurring as you gasped for air.

“Good girl,” Yunho praised, his voice thick with desire. “That’s it. You did so well.”

But he didn’t relent. Instead, he rolled his hips faster and deeper, pushing you through the aftershocks of your release. His grip on your neck was firm but gentle, guiding you as he moved. Each thrust was powerful, hitting a spot inside you that made you moan uncontrollably.

“Feel how good you are for me,” he encouraged, his voice a mixture of roughness and sweetness. “You’re taking me so well. I knew you could do it.”

The combination of his praise and the relentless rhythm of his hips sent you spiraling again, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

Then, with a low growl, Yunho shifted his grip, holding you closer, and you could feel the intensity of his own need as he began to fill you up completely. The sensation of him deep inside you was overwhelming, and you could barely contain the pleasure that surged through your body once more.

“Just like that,” he groaned, his breath scorching your skin as he moved against you. “You were made for me, baby. I’m gonna make you remember every inch of me inside you.”

With that, he thrust harder, deeper, making sure you felt every inch of him, every thrust, as he lost himself in the rhythm of your bodies. You were his, completely and utterly, and as he filled you up, you couldn’t help but surrender to the pleasure.

As Yunho continued to thrust into you, the sensations were overwhelming. Each movement was deep and precise, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You could barely think straight, lost in the moment—until the sound of his phone ringing broke through the haze.

He paused, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he glanced at the screen. The color drained from his face for a moment, replaced by a smirk. “Just when I thought I had you all to myself,” he murmured, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

With a finger pressed to your lips, he held your gaze. “It’s my daughter,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “And she’s calling. But you’re going to stay quiet while I talk.”

Your heart raced at the implication, the thrill of being caught in such an intimate moment mixed with urgency. He held you in place, his grip on your waist firm as he pressed his phone to his ear.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, his voice shifting to a comforting tone, softly thrusting into you. “Yeah, sorry, the signal here is awful. I’m good, just… busy around the house.”

As he spoke, he kept his pace, slower but no less intense. He kept your hips pinned down, the rhythm of his movements steady. You had to bite your lip to keep from making a sound, the pleasure building within you again.

“I’m with a friend,” he continued, glancing down at you with a wicked smile. “Yeah, she’s fine… watching a movie, just a little preoccupied. ”

The way he emphasized the last word sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you struggled to suppress your moans. Each thrust drew you closer to the edge, and the combination of his words and movements was driving you wild. The feeling of being so vulnerable and exposed, yet entirely under his control, sent shivers down your spine.

Yunho leaned down closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he continued to talk. “I’ll call you back in a bit, okay? Just need to take care of something,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing. “Love you.”

As he ended the call, his eyes locked onto yours and how you looked over your shoulder at him, the teasing glint in them igniting a fire in your belly. “You did so well, baby,” he said, breathless.

With that, he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming more demanding and urgent as you struggled to hold back the sounds threatening to escape. You could feel the pressure building within you, every deep thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you. The thrill of being caught, mixed with the electric tension in the air, had you teetering on the edge of another release.

“Isn’t this fun?” he teased, his voice low and gravelly. “You, here, all mine.. taking my cock so well, while my daughter thinks I’m just busy with a friend. How naughty of you.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, the thrill of being in this secret, intimate space where nothing else mattered but the two of you. You wanted to respond, to beg him for more, but he held you firmly, the weight of his body pressing you down into the mattress.

“Can you keep quiet for me?” he asked, his breath hot against your skin. “I want to hear you hold back, feel you tighten around me.”

You nodded, the pressure of his hips against yours nearly overwhelming. It was all you could do to keep quiet as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, your body responding instinctively to his every thrust.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “You’re doing so well. Just a little longer.”

But as he spoke, he slowed his movements, teasing you, drawing it out. His fingers grazed your waist, the sensation both grounding and electrifying. You could feel him hovering over you, the heat radiating from his body as he watched your every reaction.

“"Look at you," he murmured, his voice rich with lust, laced with something almost reverent. His grip tightened as he rolled his hips, slow, deliberate. "You’re already so close… I can feel it—the way you're gripping me, holding me so tight."

You wanted to respond, to tell him just how close you were, but you knew you had to hold back. The thrill of the moment only intensified the pleasure, and with each deliberate thrust, he was pushing you to your limits.

“Let’s see how long you can take it,” he teased, his hands gripping your hips as he began to pick up the pace again, harder and deeper.

Every thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, and you could feel your resolve weakening. The mix of desire and restraint was intoxicating, and with each movement, he drew you closer to that blissful edge once more.

“You’re doing so, so well, baby…” he murmured, his voice low and full of praise. “You can do it, baby. Just keep quiet for me, mm?”

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his hips, pushed you further toward the edge, and you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped your lips. Yunho’s eyes darkened with desire, and you knew he could feel how close you were.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided playfully. “No sounds. You promised.”

With that, he thrust deeper, his movements becoming more frantic, the urgency building between you as he closed in on his own release. You could feel the tension crackling in the air, and you knew you were both reaching that point of no return.

He held you tightly, his breath ragged as he whispered sweet praises in your ear. “You’re incredible, baby. Taking my cock so, so well…”

Your body responded to him instinctively, tightening around him as if begging for release. The world outside faded, leaving only the two of you in this moment, lost in each other.

“Can you feel that?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “You’re driving me wild. I’m not stopping until we both finish..”

With renewed vigor, he picked up the pace, his hips slamming into you with a delicious intensity. The sounds of skin meeting skin filled the room, echoing the rhythm of your bodies intertwined.

“Let go for me,” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “I want to feel you come around me. Show me how good you are.”

And just like that, the dam broke. Whatever restraint you had within you to not make a sound, to not cum and scream, it shattered. The waves of pleasure crashed over you, overwhelming and all-consuming. You gasped, moans and whimpers escaping your rapidly rising chest, your body shaking as you surrendered to the bliss of your orgasm, the world around you blurring into nothing.

Yunho’s thrusts didn’t relent; instead, he chased his own orgasm, driving deeper into you, and the sensation pushed you even higher. “That’s it, baby. Just like that,” he growled, his voice a mix of pleasure and need.

As your body pulsed around him, you felt him tighten his grip on you, a low growl escaping his lips as he finally lost himself in you. His cum filled you completely, the sensation igniting a final spark of pleasure that sent shivers through your entire being.

In those moments, as you both rode out the waves of pleasure together, the world outside faded away completely. It was just you and him, tangled in each other, both left breathless and completely satisfied.

As you lay there, wrapped in the aftermath of your shared ecstasy, Yunho brushed his fingers softly over your back, a warm smile spreading across his face. “You did amazing,” he said, his voice tender and filled with warmth. “I knew you were special.”

You looked up at him, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest, and with a teasing smile, you whispered, “this is going to be a looong summer…” and a chuckle followed, Yunho smiling at you.

“Yeah, indeed-” he paused for a second, a thought running through his mind. “Ah, I completely forgot.. my daughter is not going to be home for a whooole week, sweetie. She has some sort of trip with his boyfriend's family.. I don't know. How do you feel about that, hm?” he wrapped you in his embrace, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder.

“I- oh.” you managed to mumble, puppy-like eyes looking up at him, eagerly waiting for that week to come as he smiled at you.

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johnpriceslamb · 1 year ago

Text

𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐏?

❛ you ask the Van Der Linde boys if you could sit on their lap. ❜

BEFORE YOU PROCEED! ┊female ! reader . afab ! reader . reader is physically shorter than chars mentioned below . suggestive themes implied . wrds . not edited . not proof-read . Javier ver touchy . google translated Spanish . John is very drunk . 1.4k wrd-count

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍

You want to what?

You tinker your lashes multiple times innocently at his flabbergasted expression, unconsciously tilting your head at his dramatic approach. From your tone alone meant nothing but the most purest intentions, he knew well you mean no harm. But hearing those words made his cheeks burn a tad bit brighter.

“May I please— “No, no, I heard ya the first time- I just..” He abruptly cuts you. He narrows his eyes at you, sizing you up head-to-toe just to see if you were in a playful manner. You weren’t.

He grumbles softly, contemplating. He scratches behind his neck for a bit before a deep sigh escapes his mouth and he leans back on the wooden chair he sat upon.

“C’mere.”

He beckons you to come closer with two fingers lazily waving in the air. Immediately do you obey his simple commands like a lost pup, hands clasped prettily in-front of your chest as you easily plop yourself on his lap. Your back almost hits his chest, akin to a literal brick wall from all of the labour work he’s done. Unconsciously does his large hands come to your hips, positioning them slightly just so you’d be a tad bit more comfortable.

It’s easy to tilt your head upwards to see his face, the prickles of hair sticking out on his chin is the most prominent thing from your view. He feels your stare almost immediately and looks down at your beady eyes. He has to stop himself from grinning at your unawareness.

The cowpoke could only narrow his eyes at the soft giggle you produced from your mouth, a hand resting on your hip, “What?”

You look away with a tiny smile, “Nuthin’.”

He lets out another deep sigh, before pinching your cheek.

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍

The bottle of beer in his hand almost slips to the ground after hearing your simple question.

He raises a hand to scratch at the stubble on his jaw, mindful to be aware of the deep claw-marks embedded on his skin. The bottle was placed on the table with a clumsy clatter, back supported by the edge of the table.

“..Watchu say?” He squints his dark eyes at you. He must’ve drunk too much, perhaps he heard you wrong. His tone was always raspy yet so demeaning playful even. You took it as if he didn’t want you to, and you shrink meekly.

You stutter shyly, “I’ll just go ask someone else—

He felt his guts squeeze and churn at the sight of you sitting on someone else’s lap. All sense of proper etiquette is thrown away from jealousy and alcoholic behaviour, his hand is very quick to grabbing yours as he roughly pulls you back. A tiny squeal escapes your lap as you clumsily fall on his chest and onto his hard thighs.

Your hands are clinging onto his opened top to balance yourself, the smirk on his face visible as he sees how shy you suddenly became.

The strong scent of alcohol makes your nose scrunch up. He rests his chin on the crook of your neck, stubble lightly tickling your sensitive skin. After a few minutes of making yourself comfy on his lap and finally staying still, his hand comes to grab his bottle to take another chug.

“John,” You almost whine at the way he unconsciously starts to bounce his knee up and down. A habit he’s not prone to ever since he started drinking. It was almost like he forgot you were sitting on his lap after a few minutes. Immediately does he stop his movement, a low slurr of babbles and a soft hiccup escapes his lips, “Whoops— sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart.”

Suddenly, he cheekily stares down at you.

“Y’know,” He hics.

“Yer behind feels kinda good on my-

“John.”

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

He’s a bit clueless at first, bless his heart.

He’s busy carving a small piece of wood with his knife, hunched over as his long hair falls, covering the sides of his face almost elegantly. He wasn’t bothered to tie his hair back, nor raise a finger to place it behind his ear. He stops re-shaping the small piece of wood as he hears a soft patter of footsteps from in-front.

“Hm?” He hums, his guard lowers significantly once realising it was you. The knife is lowered too, and the items were placed afar so it does not distract you nor come in your way.

“May I please sit on your lap?” You ask with those big beady eyes of yours, hands behind your back as your tone is light and sweet.

Of course, silence is ensured for a few seconds. His brooding figure straightens up from his spot. He quirks a dark, angular brow at your much smaller figure.

“Why?” He asks with a straight face.

Your cheeks burn, and your expression was alike of a kicked pup. He catches on quickly, and he immediately feels bad for seeming so nonchalant and blunt.

“U-Um.. I just, I wanted to.. N-nevermind. Sorry.” You shyly stammer, akin to a doe whom tries to stand up for the first time.

He easily suppresses the smile which almost etched onto his face at your stuttering. Cute.

“I didn’t say no, y’know.” He gestures you to come over with a simple pat on his thigh. You beam, eagerly toddling to him like a tiny tot wanting to get her stuffies. You sit yourself on his thighs, shoes quite literally lifting off of the ground because of how big he was. Even if he sat down, he still always towered over you.

He allows you to wiggle a bit on his lap, but a hand comes down to rest on your knee to squeeze it a bit as a gentle warning to not go any higher. You do obey, of course. Your back is to his chest, your hands positioned on your lap as you almost melt at how warm he was.

“Comfortable?” At each word he uttered to you, it was more toned down in pitch, a low hum always started. You nod lazily, a smile of satisfaction of how comfy he felt underneath. You don’t mind the way he snakes his arms around your waist. “Good.”

𝐉𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀

You regret asking.

Simply put, he’s handsy.

The smirk on his face is very visible. The log he rests upon feels even more smaller as he slowly starts to manspread right in front of you. The guitar in his hand is placed gently just to the side before he beckons you to come forth. You reluctantly sit on his lap, almost squirming at how close he was.

A hand on your hip, another squish to your thigh, a soft roll from his hip teasingly upwards, a touch here, a touch there..

“Javier!” You whine, swatting his hand off your curves. He could only teasingly grin, before shrugging. “..Tu pediste esto.” His voice serenades.

You try to swat his hands off again, but merely give up, knowing he won’t stop any time soon. You lay your cheek on his chest, lithe arms wrapped around his waist as your back arches a tad bit from not supporting your structure. His hands are on the small of your back, rubbing small circles on the softness of your clothed skin.

The embers from the mini camp-fire is light and descends off in the dark night, crackles of the wood calms your nerves down just a bit. He does tone his touch down just a tad bit for your sake, despite wanting to desperately grab at.. literally anything. He’s had ladies before, but by far was he the neediest when it came to you.

You can’t help but take a small peak from above, wispy lashes coming to tinker a bit when he tilts his gaze to fixate on you. A small smile on his face, as he greedily eats up all of the touch you gave to him.

“..hi.” You quietly mumble, a bit muffled because of the fact that half of your face is mushed against the fabrics of his clothes. A fox-like grin etches on his tan face as he presses a tiny kiss on your forehead, entertaining you by replying with a simple “hola.”

“You’re really clingy- and touchy. I hope you know that.” You grumble when his hand comes to cup your curves again.

He smiles lazily. “I know.”

#fem! reader #rdr2 x you #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #afab! reader #arthur morgan x fem! reader #charles smith x reader #charles smith #javier escuella x reader #john marston x reader #javier escuella #john marston #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 john #red dead redemption fanfic #red dead redemption 2

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ghstyles · 3 months ago

Text

Ethics | His Angel

· · ─────────────────────── · ·

Pairing: College!Yn x CrimeBossl!Harry

WC: 5k

Summery: You interview Harry for your business ethics class. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Hope you know how to sugarcoat

His Angel Masterlist

· · ─────────────────────── · ·

The phone's vibration pulls Harry from a light sleep.

He never sleeps deeply, years of survival instinct ensuring he remains aware of his surroundings even in rest. His hand moves automatically to the gun beneath his pillow before his brain registers the custom ringtone.

Y/N.

A spike of adrenaline hits his system as he answers immediately, mind cycling through worst-case scenarios.

"What's wrong?" he demands, already sitting up, calculating how quickly he can get to you.

Your voice comes through, not panicked or frightened, but rushed and slightly frantic in a different way.

"Yes, I'm calling at three am. Don't ask why I'm still awake," you begin without preamble. "Anyways, I checked my assignment last minute thinking I can do it in an hour. It turns out I have to interview someone in business. It's due tomorrow. Please save me."

Harry blinks once in the darkness of his bedroom, processing. The tension in his shoulders eases slightly, but irritation quickly replaces concern.

"Let me understand this," he says slowly, voice rough with interrupted sleep. "You called me at three in the morning because you need...a business interview."

He runs a hand through his hair, glancing at the clock on his nightstand. The red digits confirm the ungodly hour.

"Christ, Y/N. I thought you were hurt," he mutters, but there's more relief than anger in his tone.

You make a pleading sound on the other end of the line.

"I'm sorry! I know it's late, but I'm desperate. The assignment is worth like 30% of my grade and I completely forgot about the interview part until now and—"

"Breathe," he interrupts, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "What exactly do you need from me?"

Your sigh of relief is audible.

"Just answers to some basic questions about running a business. Challenges, opportunities, that kind of thing. I can make it quick, I promise."

Harry glances at his watch, calculating.

"I'll be at your place in twenty minutes," he decides. "Have coffee ready."

"Wait, really? You're coming over?" Your surprise is evident.

"Did you want to do this over the phone?" he asks dryly.

"No! No, coming over is perfect. Thank you! I'll make coffee."

Harry ends the call and stands, stretching briefly before reaching for clothes. As he dresses, he shakes his head slightly, wondering when exactly he became the type of man who would leave his bed at three in the morning to help with homework.

Only for you, he thinks.

Fifteen minutes later, his car pulls up outside your apartment building. The streets are empty, the city quiet in these early morning hours. His security team follows at a discreet distance, used to their boss's unpredictable schedule when it comes to you.

As he walks toward your building, he's already mentally editing his business history into something that won't implicate him in multiple felonies. Some truths can be told while some must remain buried.

Either way, he's certain this will be the most interesting business interview your professor has ever received.

The soft knock at your door comes sooner than expected. When you swing it open, Harry stands in the hallway looking surprisingly put-together for 3:20 AM with dark jeans and a black sweater that clings to his shoulders, hair slightly tousled but intentionally so. The only sign of the hour is the faint shadow along his jaw where stubble is beginning to form.

Before he can speak, you launch yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck.

"Hey you! My wonderful, spectacular, brilliant, handsome boyfriend," you gush with exaggerated enthusiasm, the words tumbling out in a caffeinated rush.

Harry catches you easily, one arm wrapping around your waist while the other hand moves to steady himself against the doorframe. His expression shifts from mild annoyance to reluctant amusement.

"Laying it on a bit thick, aren't we?" he murmurs, but his arm tightens around you nonetheless. "How much coffee have you had already?"

He steps inside, guiding you backward and closing the door behind him with his foot. His eyes scan your apartment automatically, a security check that's become a habit, before settling back on you.

You're wearing pajama shorts and an oversized university sweatshirt, your hair piled messily on top of your head. Textbooks and papers are scattered across your small dining table, your laptop open and surrounded by empty energy drink cans.

"Three cups and two Red Bulls," you admit sheepishly, releasing him to gesture toward the kitchen. "But I made you the good coffee. The expensive one you brought over last time."

Harry takes in your frazzled appearance. The dark circles under your eyes, the slightly manic energy in your movements. His expression softens fractionally.

"When's the last time you slept?" he asks, following you to the kitchen where a fresh mug of coffee waits.

You wave dismissively at the question.

"Sleep is for people who don't have a business ethics paper due at noon. I can sleep after I turn it in."

Harry accepts the coffee, taking a sip as he leans against your counter. He watches you over the rim of the mug, something like fond exasperation in his gaze.

"So," he says after a moment, "what exactly am I being interviewed about at this hour?"

You grab your notebook and pen, suddenly all business despite your disheveled appearance.

"Business ethics, leadership challenges, how you handle competition, your five-year growth strategy," you list off rapidly. "Oh, and don't worry, I'm using a pseudonym for you in the paper. Professor Johnson will never know I interviewed the most feared man in the city's underground."

You deliver this last part with a wink, as if it's a joke, but Harry's expression doesn't change.

"Thoughtful of you," he responds dryly. "Shall we begin before the sun rises?"

You settle on your small couch, notebook ready, while Harry takes the armchair across from you. The coffee mug looks almost comically delicate in his large hands.

"Okay, so for the paper, I'll be interviewing..." you pause dramatically, flipping to a fresh page in your notebook, "Mr. Bartholomew Whiskerton, CEO of Cuddly Kitten Enterprises."

Harry's expression freezes mid-sip of his coffee. He slowly lowers the mug, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Absolutely not," he says flatly.

You bite back a grin, enjoying his reaction.

"What? It's a great cover! No one will ever connect it to you."

"Because it's ridiculous," he counters, setting the mug down with deliberate control. "I'm not being quoted in your academic paper as 'Bartholomew Whiskerton.'"

You tap your pen against your notebook thoughtfully.

"Fine. How about... Duncan Powers? That sounds businessy."

Harry's expression remains unimpressed.

"That sounds like a porn star."

You laugh, the sound bright in the early morning quiet of your apartment.

"You would know," you tease, earning a dangerous look that only widens your smile. "Okay, okay. Sebastian Reynolds?"

Harry considers this for a moment, then shakes his head.

"Too pretentious. Even for me."

You huff dramatically, flopping back against the couch cushions.

"You're so picky! It's just a name for a paper no one except my professor will read."

"A paper about business ethics," Harry reminds you pointedly. "Starting with a completely fabricated identity seems...counterintuitive."

Your eyes roll skyward.

"Says the man who probably has seven different passports."

Harry doesn't confirm or deny this accusation, which is answer enough.

"James," he says after a moment. "James Harrington. Simple, forgettable, professional."

You consider the suggestion, head tilted.

"James Harrington," you repeat, testing it out. "Fine, but he needs a middle name. James H. Harrington sounds more official."

Harry sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

"It's three-thirty in the morning, and we're debating fictional middle initials."

You lean forward eagerly.

"I'm thinking 'H' for Hector. Or maybe Horatio?"

The look Harry gives you could freeze fire.

"H for Harry," he says with finality. "James Harry Harrington. Now can we please start the actual interview before I reconsider my life choices?"

You grin triumphantly, scribbling the name at the top of your page.

"See? That wasn't so hard. Mr. J.H. Harrington it is.And considering all that you do, this, shouldn’t be what makes you reconsider life choices. Just last week you…” You take a breath, “you know what? None of my business. Let’s start”

Harry's eyes narrow at your comment, the humor in his expression fading slightly. There's a moment of silence as he studies you across the small space between your seats.

Harry sets his coffee mug down slowly, that calculating look in his eyes.

"No, please," he says, voice deceptively soft. "Continue that thought. Last week I what, exactly?"

You clear your throat, suddenly very interested in organizing your interview notes.

"Nothing. First question! What would you say are the biggest ethical challenges facing business leaders today?"

Harry doesn't take the bait, his gaze unwavering.

"Last week I had three men taken to the warehouse for questioning about missing product," he supplies calmly, as if discussing the weather. "Is that what you were referring to? Or perhaps the negotiation with the Italians about the new territory lines?"

His tone remains conversational, but there's an edge to it. Not anger, but a reminder of exactly who and what he is.

"I'm reconsidering my life choices because I'm sitting in a college apartment at half past three, helping with homework, when I should be sleeping before my meeting with the harbor commissioner at seven."

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, closing some of the distance between you.

"Yet…you came" you say softly in a way that sounded like a question.

"Because you called."

There's something unexpectedly vulnerable in that simple statement. An admission that carries more weight than any declaration.

Your expression softens, the teasing fading into something more genuine.

"Thank you," you say quietly. "I really do appreciate it, Harry."

He holds your gaze for a moment longer, then leans back, picking up his coffee again.

"Now," he says, voice returning to its usual controlled tone, "I believe Mr. J.H. Harrington has an interview to complete before sunrise, or his very sleep-deprived girlfriend will fail her business ethics class."

You smile gratefully at the shift back to safer territory, picking up your pen.

"Right. First question for the distinguished Mr. Harrington: What would you say is the biggest ethical challenge facing business leaders today?"

Harry's lips quirk slightly as he considers the question, slipping effortlessly into the role of legitimate businessman.

"Balancing profit motives with social responsibility," he answers smoothly, as if he's given this response at actual business conferences. "The pressure to deliver quarterly results often conflicts with long-term sustainable practices."

You blink, surprised by how convincingly normal his answer sounds.

"Wow, that was actually good," you comment, scribbling it down. "Have you been practicing legitimate business speak?"

Harry's expression remains perfectly serious, but there's a glint in his eye.

"I attend chamber of commerce meetings every third Thursday, angel. Bring donuts and everything."

The deadpan delivery makes you snort with laughter, the earlier tension completely dissolved as you continue the interview, Harry crafting increasingly plausible answers for your paper while carefully omitting any details that might raise eyebrows—or federal investigations.

Looking at the next question, you snort, “this one might be hard to sugarcoat. How do you handle managing difficult employees or conflicts within your team?“

Harry takes another sip of his coffee, a dangerous amusement flickering in his eyes at your question. He sets the mug down deliberately, considering his answer.

"How do I handle difficult employees," he repeats slowly, as if testing the words.

You bite your lip to suppress a laugh, knowing exactly what's going through his mind. The images of concrete rooms, of Marco and his particular set of persuasion skills, of the rumors you've heard whispered about what happens to those who cross Harry Styles.

"Yes, Mr. Harrington," you prompt innocently. "Your conflict resolution strategies. For the paper."

Harry leans back in the chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. The early morning light filtering through your blinds casts shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his features.

"I believe in clear communication of expectations," he begins, his voice taking on that smooth, professional cadence that would be perfectly at home in any boardroom. "When someone joins my...organization, they understand precisely what's required of them."

He pauses, choosing his next words carefully.

"Conflicts typically arise from misunderstandings or competing priorities. I address these directly, one-on-one, rather than allowing tensions to fester."

You raise an eyebrow, scribbling notes.

"And if direct conversations don't resolve the issue?" you press, unable to help yourself.

A cold smile touches Harry's lips.

"Then more decisive action becomes necessary," he replies smoothly. "Sometimes people need to be...reassigned to positions better suited to their capabilities."

You snort softly. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

Harry's expression doesn't change, but his eyes hold a warning.

"For your paper? Yes, that's exactly what we're calling it," he says pointedly. "I find that most workplace conflicts can be resolved through clear consequences for underperformance."

You're still writing, struggling to translate mob boss tactics into corporate language.

"In extreme cases," Harry continues unprompted, "separation from the company becomes the only viable solution. I don't believe in maintaining relationships that no longer serve mutual interests."

You look up from your notebook, meeting his gaze.

"That's actually...not terrible business advice," you admit. "Though I'm guessing your definition of 'separation from the company' is a bit more permanent than a severance package."

Harry's expression remains impassive, but there's a hint of appreciation in his eyes for your quick mind, for the way you don't flinch from what he is.

"Write that I prioritize team cohesion over individual egos," he suggests, redirecting slightly. "And that I reward loyalty and results equally."

You nod, adding his suggestions to your notes.

"So basically, do your job well, don't cause problems, and stay loyal, or you'll be 'reassigned' to a position six feet underground," you summarize quietly, a ghost of a smile playing at your lips. "Very ethical, Mr. Harrington."

"It's a competitive industry," Harry replies with perfect deadpan delivery. "Only the most dedicated professionals survive."

“Speaking of competitive industry” you roll the eraser on your chin, trying to pick a question that can be sugar coated, “What strategies do you use to stay ahead of your competitors and how do you differentiate your business from others in the same industry?”

Harry shifts slightly in his seat, a predatory gleam entering his eyes at the mention of competition. This is a topic that clearly interests him and perhaps too much for your academic paper.

"What strategies do I use to stay ahead of competitors," he repeats thoughtfully, running a finger along the rim of his coffee mug.

You watch him carefully, aware that you're treading into territory where his actual business practices might be difficult to translate into acceptable corporate strategy.

"Market research," he begins after a moment, his voice taking on that smooth, professional tone again. "Understanding what others are offering and identifying gaps they've overlooked."

You scribble this down, nodding encouragingly.

"I maintain a comprehensive intelligence network," he continues, choosing each word with precision. "Information is power in any industry. Knowing your competitors' moves before they make them gives you an undeniable advantage."

You look up from your notebook, raising an eyebrow.

"Intelligence network? Is that what we're calling Marco and his guys who hang out in bars listening for gossip?"

Harry's expression doesn't change, but there's a warning in his eyes.

"For your paper, yes," he says pointedly. "Industry analysis and strategic information gathering."

You press your lips together to suppress a smile and continue writing.

"As for differentiation," Harry continues without prompting, "exclusivity and reputation are key. My business provides services that others simply cannot, or will not, offer. Our clients understand that working with us means a certain level of...commitment and discretion they won't find elsewhere."

You pause in your writing, pen hovering over the page.

"So...unique value proposition and customer loyalty," you translate, looking to him for confirmation.

Harry inclines his head slightly, the ghost of a smile touching his lips.

"Precisely. We also maintain strong relationships with key stakeholders across various sectors, ensuring smoother operations."

"Stakeholders," you repeat dryly. "Like Judge Reynolds who mysteriously dismissed those charges last month?"

Harry's expression remains perfectly neutral.

"Strategic partnerships," he corrects smoothly. "Write that I emphasize the importance of a robust network across complementary industries."

You add this to your notes, shaking your head slightly.

"Anything else about your competitive strategy, Mr. Harrington? Perhaps your approach to mergers and acquisitions?" you ask, unable to resist the double meaning.

Something dangerous flashes in Harry's eyes, but it's gone so quickly you might have imagined it.

"I prefer organic growth to hostile takeovers," he says, his voice dropping slightly lower. "Though when presented with a particularly valuable opportunity, I'm not opposed to aggressive expansion."

He leans forward, elbows on his knees.

"The most important differentiator, however, is reputation," he adds, his tone suddenly serious. "In business, your word must be unbreakable. When I make a promise to clients, to partners, to employees, it's kept. That reliability is rare in any industry."

You look up from your writing, struck by the sincerity in his voice. This, at least, isn't a translation but rather a genuine principle he lives by, criminal enterprise or not.

"That's actually...really good," you admit, finishing your notes. "Professor Johnson is going to think I made you up."

Harry shrugs smugly

You flip to the next page of your notebook, stifling a yawn despite the caffeine coursing through your system. Harry watches you, noting the fatigue beginning to show in your movements.

"I think that's it but I'll ask a few more just in case I don't meet the word count," you explain, scanning your list of questions.

You look up at him, mentally bracing yourself.

"So, uh... how would you define ethical leadership?"

Harry's carefully constructed business persona seems to slip slightly. He leans back in the chair, something cynical flickering across his expression.

"Ethical leadership," he repeats, a hint of dark amusement in his voice. "In my world? It means not killing someone unless they deserve it."

Your pen freezes mid-air.

"Harry..."

He shrugs unapologetically.

"You wanted honesty. Ethics are relative, angel. I have my own code. I don't hurt innocents. I don't deal with children. I keep my word. More than most 'legitimate' businessmen can say."

He takes a sip of his coffee, now gone cold.

"Politicians take bribes to let corporations poison water supplies. Banks foreclose on families while paying their CEOs millions. At least I'm honest about what I am."

You sigh, trying to formulate a way to translate this into something you can actually include in your paper.

"Okay, let's try this. What's the hardest leadership decision you've had to make?"

Harry's expression darkens, his eyes growing distant.

"Killing Michael Hayes," he answers without hesitation. "He was like a brother to me. Taught me everything when I was just a kid on the streets. But he was skimming money, selling information to the Russians."

He says this so matter-of-factly that a chill runs down your spine despite your familiarity with his world.

"I did it myself. Owed him that much. Quick, clean. More mercy than he deserved for the betrayal, but..." he trails off, then refocuses on you. "That's leadership. Doing the necessary thing, even when it breaks something in you."

You stare at him, pen completely forgotten. These glimpses into his past and into the events that shaped him are rare and always unsettling.

"Where do you see your business in five years?" you ask quietly, trying to move to safer ground.

Harry's laugh is short and without humor.

"Alive," he says simply. "In my line of work, five-year plans are a luxury. I see myself either expanding to the east side, or dead. There's not much middle ground."

He notices your expression and something in his face softens slightly.

"But if you're asking what I want..." he continues, surprising you, "I want enough security that I don't have to look over my shoulder every minute. Enough power that no one would dare come after what's mine."

His eyes meet yours, and there's something unexpectedly vulnerable in them.

"Maybe a place on the coast. Somewhere quiet. With you." The admission seems to surprise even him. "That's assuming I don't get shot or arrested first."

The casual way he references his potential violent death or imprisonment hangs in the air between you, a stark reminder of the reality of his existence and by extension, yours as his partner.

"Write whatever sanitized version of that you need for your paper," he adds, his walls coming back up. "I don't imagine Professor Johnson wants the unvarnished truth."

The sudden shift catches Harry off-guard.

One moment answering questions, the next with an armful of you. His body tenses briefly in surprise before relaxing, arms wrapping around your waist automatically.

You climb into his lap and bury your face against his neck, saying nothing but holding onto him fiercely. The warm, familiar scent of his cologne envelops you. Expensive and subtle, mixed with something that's just him.

For a moment, Harry remains still, processing your reaction. Then one hand moves to the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair while the other arm tightens around you, securing you against him.

"What's this for?" he asks quietly, his voice a low rumble you can feel against your cheek.

You don't answer, just hold him tighter, overwhelmed by the casual way he spoke about his own mortality about a future that might include you, or might end abruptly in violence.

Harry seems to understand your silence. His hand continues its gentle movement through your hair, a soothing rhythm that contrasts with the dangerous life he described moments ago.

"Hey," he murmurs against your temple, his voice softer than it ever is with anyone else. "I'm still here."

The simple statement acknowledges everything unsaid between you. The danger, the uncertainty, the reality of loving someone who lives with death as a constant companion.

For several minutes, you stay like this, the early morning silence of your apartment broken only by the sound of your breathing and the occasional distant car passing outside. Harry holds you patiently, his usual restless energy contained, giving you whatever time you need.

One of his hands moves to trace gentle patterns along your spine, and you feel him press a kiss to your hair. A rare tenderness he shows to no one but you.

"I shouldn't have said that," he finally offers, his voice low. "About being dead or arrested. It was...unnecessary."

You can count on one hand the number of times Harry Styles has come close to an apology. This is as near as he gets to an acknowledgment that his words affected you in a way he didn't intend.

His fingers find your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes search yours, more open than they've been all night.

"That place on the coast," he says quietly. "I meant that part."

"What if I hate the ocean?" you mumble against his chest, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

His eyebrow arches slightly, calling your bluff. He studies your face for a moment, catching the telltale twitch at the corners of your mouth. His expression remains serious, but something playful enters his eyes

"Bullshit," he says simply, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. "You've got that painting of the coast in your bedroom. You wear that shell necklace your grandmother gave you. You fall asleep to those ridiculous ocean sound recordings."

The fact that he's noticed these details, small things about you that most people would overlook, makes something warm unfurl in your chest.

"Besides," he continues, his voice dropping lower, "I've seen your face when you talk about the beach house your family rented that summer. Your eyes light up."

His hand slides to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

"But if you've suddenly developed a hatred for ocean views and sea air," he adds with mock seriousness, "I suppose I could consider a mountain cabin. Somewhere remote. Defensible position. Good sightlines."

You roll your eyes at his tactical assessment of romantic getaway locations.

"Of course you'd evaluate a vacation home based on its defensive capabilities," you tease, some of the earlier tension dissolving.

Harry's lips quirk in that rare, genuine smile.

"Old habits," he admits, then adds more softly, "But I'd make sure it had a good kitchen. Those windows you like. Space for your books."

The casual way he includes these details about your preferences and things that matter to you, reveals more than any grand declaration could. Harry Styles notices everything, catalogs it away, uses the information to protect what's his. But sometimes, like now, he uses it simply to make you happy.

"I'd still need to come back to the city for business," he adds, his tone shifting back to something more practical. "But a place just for us...somewhere no one could find us unless we wanted them to..."

His eyes grow distant for a moment, as if he's actually visualizing this future. A safe haven away from the violence and chaos of his world.

Then his gaze refocuses on you, something possessive and tender mingling in his expression.

"Don't pretend you hate the ocean, angel," he murmurs, leaning closer. "You're a terrible liar."

"It's rude to call your girlfriend a liar," you mumble indignantly, settling more comfortably against him. "Were you absent that week from boyfriend school?"

Harry's chest rumbles with a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your cheek as you rest your head on him. His fingers continue their gentle path through your hair, occasionally massaging your scalp in a way that makes you want to purr like a cat

His arm tightens around you, adjusting your position slightly so you fit more perfectly against him. The expensive fabric of his sweater is soft against your cheek.

"Boyfriend school," he repeats dryly. "Must have missed that lesson between 'How to Intimidate Rival Organizations' and 'Advanced Weapons Handling.'"

You make a small sound of amusement against his chest.

"I never attended boyfriend school," he continues, his voice a low rumble beneath your ear. "Had to figure it out as I went. No instruction manual for dating a college student when you're..." he pauses, searching for the right words, "...in my line of work."

His hand shifts to trace lazy patterns along your spine, the gentle touch at odds with the dangerous man delivering it.

"Though I'm fairly certain rule number one is 'don't wake your boyfriend at three in the morning for homework help,'" he adds, but there's no real reproof in his tone.

You tilt your head to look up at him, finding his expression softer than usual in the dim light of your apartment.

"And yet here you are," you point out quietly. "Helping with homework at three in the morning."

Something passes across his face. A flicker of surprise, as if he's just realized the same thing. Harry Styles, feared mob boss, holding his girlfriend in the early hours, discussing ethical leadership for a college paper.

"Here I am," he agrees, a note of wonder barely detectable in his voice.

His hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from your face, the gesture unexpectedly tender.

"Maybe I need to reevaluate what makes me dangerous," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Agreeing to be interviewed as Bartholomew Whiskerton seems like a significant weakness."

You can't help the laugh that escapes you, the sound bright in the quiet apartment.

"It was James Harry Harrington, and you know it," you correct, poking his chest accusingly. "Don't pretend you forgot."

His lips quirk upward, that rare, genuine smile making another appearance.

"How could I forget the distinguished Mr. Harrington?" he asks, his voice taking on that smooth, professional tone he used during the interview. "CEO of...what was it again? Legitimate Business Ventures, Inc.?"

You giggle, the sound slightly slurred with fatigue now that the adrenaline of your academic panic is wearing off.

"You're ridiculous," you tell him, stifling a yawn.

Harry's expression shifts to something more assessing as he notices your fatigue.

"And you're exhausted," he observes, his hand resuming its gentle stroking of your hair. "Did you get any of that paper written before you called me?"

Harry watches as you fight to keep your eyes open, your words slurring with exhaustion. Your head grows heavier against his chest as you lose the battle with consciousness.

"Gonna...do that...now," you mumble through a yawn, even as your eyes drift closed.

He feels your body relaxing against him, your breathing beginning to slow and deepen. A ghost of a smile touches his lips. Something no one else would ever see.

"Of course you are," he murmurs, his voice soft with an affection he shows to no one but you.

For a few minutes, he simply holds you, one hand continuing its gentle path through your hair while the other secures you against him. The first pale light of dawn has begun to filter through your blinds, casting long shadows across the floor.

Harry glances at your laptop, still open on the table surrounded by textbooks and empty energy drink cans. The business ethics paper that was so urgent at 3 AM now seems to have taken a backseat to sleep.

With a quiet sigh that's more resigned than annoyed, he carefully shifts, gathering you more securely in his arms as he stands. You murmur something unintelligible but don't wake, instinctively curling closer to his warmth.

He carries you to your bedroom, laying you gently on the unmade bed. You immediately roll to your side, face pressing into the pillow with a contented sigh.

Harry pulls the blanket over you, then stands for a moment, watching the rise and fall of your breathing. The dangerous mob boss, the feared enforcer, the ruthless businessman—all those versions of him fade slightly in this quiet moment.

Then he turns and walks back to the living room, rolling up his sleeves as he sits down at your laptop. The screen illuminates his face as he begins to type, occasionally referring to the notes you've taken.

By the time you wake up, groggy and disoriented hours later, you'll find a completed draft of your paper saved on your desktop, a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen, and a note on your table written in his precise handwriting:

"Mr. J.H. Harrington sends his regards. Paper needs your final review before submission. I have meetings until 3. Call if you need anything. - H"

And beneath that, a postscript that would surprise anyone who knows his reputation:

"P.S. The ocean house remains on the table. Sleep well, angel."

Taglist: @silastylesswift @babegoals @harryssunflower17 @puzio19 @goldensunflowerss-blog @drewrry @tinawritesstuff @dipmeinhoneyh @spinninc @harrystyleshotwife

#his angel #ghstyles #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #one direction #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #read

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misternibbs · 4 months ago

Text

tom & miraiko

dailyverse posting on main because I think the outcome looks really nice. minus tee he looks weird fuck that guy. if Chonny Jash sees this (doubt it) hi this Isn't you this is someone who. oh god I have to explain the entire concept of the dailyverse AUGHHHHHH

tom "tee" daniels from @cjph-daily

miraiko by @ctrl-alt-deleting-yr-face

alt versions! originally drawn in mspaint before I went insane in ibis

EDIT: I FORGOT HIS FUCKING SCAR ANS STUBBLE. FUCK

#...kinito for scale #i am Not tagging this with chonny jash #tom daniels (tee)#tee dailyverse #miraiko kasane #miraiko dailyverse #SHIT I JUST REALIZED I FORGOT THE SHADOW FROM HIS HAIR UNTO HSI FACE GOD DAMN IT #more of a personal piece but yeah. anyways

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glitchybitz · 23 days ago

Note

Im sending this here because i couldn’t put it in words but your doodle of Lux with his morning coffee and underwear made me think of this

https://youtu.be/WyMMA9BhvL8?si=sAJnbkUnKzQrxFO0

I HAD TO 🌸🌺💕

@l1me0p0ssum ‘s Young!Ring-A-Ding makes an appearance for this ask hehhee🌺

(EDIT: I CAN’T BELIEVE I FORGOT HIS STUBBLE AND BODY HAIR GRHRGHRGGHR also, to clarify, I’D TAKE BOTH OF THESE MENS AND NOT IN A FIGHT)

#mr ring a ding #mr. ring-a-ding #mr. ring a ding #mrringading #lux #lux imperator #doctor who #self insert #self insert x canon #oc x canon #doe a ding #doe-a-ding

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thanksbutno98 · 5 months ago

Text

How Time Flies

John Price x wife!reader OC

Summary: John Price is forced to deal with Simon Riley’s wrath regarding John’s son.

Warnings: sexual themes, talks of marriage, swearing, pregnancy, not edited

——————

“Slow down, darling.” John’s voice came from somewhere over your shoulder but you ignored him.

The warm glow of the summer sun was beginning to pick up as the morning faded into afternoon. Cinnamon and fresh fruit floated in the air as the pies you baked cooled on the windowsills. One was blueberry which was your husband, John Price’s, favorite while the other was a classic apple, which was your son’s.

“They’re gonna be here any minute. I wanna get this done so when we start grilling I don’t have to worry about it.” Shooting John a smile over your shoulder you did a double take.

Some days you were so busy you forgot to admire the man you had spent your life with. It had been so long you started to wonder where time had gone. The hairs on his head and beard had sprouted grey daring to take over take the brown. John liked to call it the only ‘invasion’ that he was incapable of stopping.

The wrinkles by his eyes and forehead stopped setting in long ago. If you recalled it was the day he retired from active duty. He referred to it as chaining himself to a desk but you knew his body appreciated the lack of abuse it took in his younger years. You appreciated it greatly because work no longer abducted him at a moments notice. The pain and worry had finally left regarding his job. Now all you worried about was him getting into a fight over road rage or someone gawking at you or your daughters.

John looked so handsome now middle aged in his blue jeans and olive button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You thought in retirement he would let himself go a little. Finally allow a layer of fat to coat his once rugged body, but he didn’t. Now he hit the gym religiously on base and was just as in shape as when he was the young Luitenant you fell in love with. You asked him why and muttered something about not being a spring chicken anymore.

“Think you’ll ever slow down?” John was on you now.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, bearded face nuzzled into your neck. He laid sensual kisses along the exposed skin. Hot spearmint breath and woodsy cologne invaded your sense, drowning out the baked good. You could feel the smirk against your skin as he lightly sunk his pearly whites into your shoulder. It made an electric shiver run up your spine. One that usually ended with you feeling like a live wire when John was done with you.

“Think we have time before they get here?” John purred into your ear, tongue darting out and licking just behind your ear lobe. The tingling sensation had you begin to nod your head, ready to turn in John’s muscular arms and have him carry you upstairs.

“Jesus, do you two ever keep your hands to yourself? Thought old age would make you stop.” Your son’s voice came from behind you and John.

John let go of you and turned to see his fully grown son standing at the open back door. Jj still to this day looked so much like John but not nearly as much as when he was a child. Only the young man decided to forego the facial hair and stay clean shaven, today he had stubble.

Jj was tall like John with broad shoulders and an athletic physique. Only Jj stopped worrying about being toned long ago and was a tad bit stockier than John, but there sure as hell were rock hard muscles under the bit of soft fat. As much as Jj looked like John his eyes were bright like yours and little bits of you sparkled through when he wasn’t being so serious like he had become.

“Your mums not old.” The way John spoke you could hear a warning hidden in his words.

You were sensitive about getting older and John knew that. He claimed you looked younger than your actual age, like you always had. Even your friends told you the same, jealous of how time seemed kinder to you. Your children had made a few comments, joking they all hoped to age like you instead of John. But John told you there was beauty in you aging, because he had a front row seat to see how spending your lives together left behind the evidence on your skin. And it made him love you more. Those laugh lines and creases by your eyes were from the smiles and joy you shared together as husband and wife.

“Right, you’re the only old one here.” Jj joked, his stoic demeanor dropping as he seemed to settle into visiting home.

“Smells good, mum.” The compliment made you smile, pushing the charcuterie board you set out towards your grown son.

Your son had become much more stoic and serious with years in the military under his belt. He always thought he would be a sniper like John but had found he was incredible at interrogations. Gaz had gotten him into it and Jj never looked back. Since he was a boy Jj was able to walk into a room and take the temperature of it in seconds. This roll in the military played to his intuitive strengths and ability to read people better than you and John could. It made your ability to have people open up seem sub par at times.

“Wheres the soon to be wife?” John asked playfully, pulling out two beers.

“Funny dad, I don’t know if she wants the whole marriage thing. But she’s coming with her parents. I assume you’re cooking up a feast like usual mum?” Jj grabbed the beer, ate some cured meat, and gave his father a playful shove as John patted his back.

The shove turned into the two trying to get the other one in a headlock. It brought back memories of John rough housing with Jj as he grew up. John always won back then but now you watched as he struggled a lot more. Jj had a cocky smirk and was egging John on by calling him an old man. That seemed to rile John up enough he stopped holding back and man handled Jj into a headlock.

“Fuck, okay okay, you win.” Jj croaked out when John started adding pressure.

“That’s what I thought.” John shoved Jj forward, the two laughing and licking their wounds.

Jj was rubbing his sore neck and rolling his shoulders back. While John massaged his lower back which you knew he’d be asking you to do later. He would claim he ‘over did it’ but it was just his way of getting a back rub. Sometimes John played up the ‘old man’ act to get you to baby him which you found endearing.

“Making all the favorites. She requested dates of all things.” You looked to Jj silently asking what that was about. The two of you continued to snack and sip your drinks as you caught up.

“Yeah, apparently it’s good at this point. Not sure why but I bet she’d tell you all about it.” With a shrug Jj moved on and started to chat with John about football.

Having any of your kids home left you and John beaming. Nowadays it was rare to get you all together when it wasn’t a holiday. Evelyn was constantly busy with her work schedule, Lily was in culinary school, and Jj was deployed a lot more than you liked.

Today you would all be together and you and John had been chatting about it for a week now. John saw Jj more than you did because they would grab lunch on base or workout together. Lily stopped by a lot, she wasn’t a fan of having roommates and looked for guidance a lot more than her siblings ever did. Evelyn on the other hand was off living her life and you saw her the least. She made the effort to call but having become a doctor at her local ER she had a lot on her plate.

“And look at that they’re here before your sisters.” John pointed to the familiar black truck that just parked behind Jj’s navy SUV.

“Go make sure they don’t need anything Jj.” With a shared smile Jj finally came over and gave you a quick kiss to the cheek and a side hug.

“Don’t let him kill me.” Jj whispered to you so John couldn’t hear.

You gave him a reassuring nod and wink. You loved that even being a grown man didn’t stop Jj from asking for your protection. He had called you the previous night expressing his anxieties and concerns about today. This relationship of his was a shock to everyone. When you found out his girlfriend’s father did not approve of your son you weren’t sure if you were surprised. Which you could understand with the current development.

Jj disappeared out the back and was soon back carrying a purse and wrapped gift. His girlfriend was in tow with a charming smile just like her mother’s and clearly telling Jj to go do something. It was new seeing Jj with a partner, you were use to him avoiding relationships unlike his sisters. He was commonly alone at holidays or at parties while Evelyn had been with her fiancé for years and Lily had a string of girlfriends.

The young woman Jj had been dating was dressed in light blue jean overalls with a sage green t-shirt underneath and cute white sneakers. Her light brown wavy hair was tied back in a low ponytail with a cute gold clip pinning back her bangs. Those bright green eyes of hers were still the most noticeable feature until you looked down at the prominent bump that had been growing for six months now.

“Mel! How are you doing?” You were so happy to see the soon to be mother of your first grandchild.

The way you waved her into the house and immediately pulled out coconut water that she requested had her nerves calming. Your welcoming nature made it easy to feel close to you and desire a connection.

“Hey, Indy. I’m doing great. Not to sure how my dad’s doing though. Mums trying to convince him to get out of the truck.” She had a melodic way of speaking that truly did her name justice.

“Melody, where did you say to put this?” Jj asked, lightly shaking the gift box by his ear to figure out what it was.

You swore you saw flashes of that little ten year old. Seeing your son as a grown mad about to be a father had been playing tricks on you. The memories of raising him were invading your mind at all times now. It had you and John reminiscing about when you became parents and how time flies.

“It’s Uncle John’s birthday present since we missed his party.” Mel motioned for Jj to give it to his father only he gave Mel a grossed out look.

“Can you not call him Uncle John. It makes it sound like we’re related.” With a grossed out tone Jj then looked around the room looking for backup.

“She’s been calling me Uncle John since before you were toilet trained. So no.” John snagged the present from his son and then gave Mel a hug.

“Thank you.” Taking the gift John placed it on the kitchen island.

“Look who finally decided to join us.” With a large smile you watched as Mel’s mother came through the back door with her looming shadow of a husband behind her.

“Nice to see you Dove-“ John gave the woman he’d known for so long a friendly wave and she did the same. They served together in the military which was a large reason why John had become close friends with her over two decades ago.

“Simon, how you doin’ mate?” John raised his beer and gave the hulking man a friendly smirk.

Ghost was living up to his name in this moment. In his dark jeans and black cotton t-shirt his presence chased away the summer sun. The room seemed to dim with the rolling storm clouds that seemed to follow him. Simon’s eyebrows were knit and lips fixed in a firm line. His eyes were fixed on Jj who was drinking his beer and avoiding making eye contact by offering Mel some food. She was batting his efforts away whispering that she couldn’t eat that.

“Pissed off.” Simon Riley spoke with a rumbling growl through gritted teeth.

“Quit it! You promised to be nice.” Dove swatted his shoulder but it did nothing to stop the murderous stare he had set on your son.

No part of Simon was okay with Jj Price having been the man to get his oldest daughter pregnant. Simon did promise to be civil but now seeing the man who did this set his teeth on edge. It was the first time seeing Jj since Mel told her parents the news.

“I will once this twat stops dragging his feet and proposes.” Simon’s comment had everyone in the room prickling up. He brought suffocating atmosphere.

“Watch it.” You quickly snapped.

“Oi, down boy.” John tried out firm humor.

“Simon!” Dove gasped and pinched his side.

“What!? Fuckin’ lucky I don’t drown you in the bloody pond for putting your grubby hands on my daughter.” Dove grabbed Simon before he could stand nose to nose with Jj who seemed unimpressed.

“You’re hilarious dad.” Mel rolled her eyes at Simon’s rude remark and gave Jj an annoyed look.

You noticed how she stood close to Jj and positioned herself in a way that Simon would have to go through her to get to your son. It was subtle but purposeful.

Jj stayed silent not wanting to piss off Ghost more than he already had. Since Mel told her parents she was pregnant Simon had been irate since she hadn’t told them she was even in a relationship. Mel had also waited until it was impossible to keep it to herself anymore and Dove dragged it out of her once she started to show. So this was still fresh news to the Riley’s, having only known for a week.

“Hilarious? What’s fucking funny?” Simon challenged his oldest daughter.

“You and mum weren’t married when she got pregnant with Fae! And you can’t even lie about it because I was five and remember you two getting married. Also, mum wasn’t even married to Peter when she had me so if you wanna lecture anyone, lecture your wife.” The harsh response had the room falling silent.

It was an awkward tension watching Mel air out her parents dirty laundry. You all knew the details but no one expected Dove to get thrown under the bus. Dove seemed to take it on the chin and waved her hand softly for Mel to calm down. A look in her mother’s eyes that reassured those who could see her that Dove had things handled.

“Mel, wanna go for a walk?” Jj was already walking for the back door not waiting for her response. It didn’t go unnoticed how Jj’s hand slid across Mel’s lower back and guided her with him.

Jj tried to walk around Simon but he stepped in the way squaring up to him. Jj tried not to come off aggressive but he wasn’t about to back down while Simon was a guest in this house. The two men stared at one another neither looking scared of the other. Jj wore a blank expression while Simons rage was painted on his face.

“Stop being a brute.” Mel lightly pushed Simon out of the way, grabbed Jj’s hand and pulled him out the back door.

There was a beat of silence as all around watched the two walk hand in hand towards the pond down the hill.

“See what you’ve done. You’re pushing her away.” Dove threw her hands in the air and turned on Simon with her finger in his face.

“You’re not allowed to be against me on this.” Simon snapped at his wife.

Dove knew he was desperate for anyone to be as angry as him but she wasn’t. Quite frankly she was excited to be a grandmother and supported her daughter in the choices she was making.

“I think everyone’s against you on this, mate.” John tried to be sympathetic but Simon rounded on him.

“Yeah? And what if Tommy knocked up one of your girls?” The crude remark had you and Dove letting out shocked gasps.

No one was expecting Simon to bring his own son into the argument as an example. Let alone talk about him being involved with your daughters.

“You’re being a dick!” You hissed but John was already stepping up to Simon, a wave of aggression rolling off of him.

“Well, my girl’s wouldn’t look twice at your boy.” John barked back, now standing with his chest puffed out.

“Okay, I think you need to go sit in the car.” Dove was in between the men who looked like they were about to throw punches. She looked tired from having to deal with Simons disapproval of the situation.

“Fine, I didn’t want to come in anyway.” Simon half shouted as he stomped his way to his truck.

“God, he’s a piece of work.” You were exasperated watching the hulking man slam the door of his truck so loud you were surprised the window didn’t shatter.

“You have no idea. He’s been pissy beyond belief at home. Can’t wrap his head around how he didn’t know they were dating or that Mel had been pregnant for so long. . . I mean, I’m surprised at how well she hid it too.” Dove took the beer John was offering her and gulped down two large swigs.

“Were they dating?” You asked feeling John pinch your bum at the question. He was shaking his head at you to not go down this path.

You had brought this up to John a few times and he kept shooting you down. Telling you to believe what your son told you and stop being skeptical. He even went as far to ask if you thought Jj was a lair. So you stopped bringing it up and only discussed your excitement to be grandparents.

“Jj won’t fess up either?” Dove asked ignoring how John was looking between you two as if you were crazy for taking about this.

John thought gossiping like this was beneath all of you. It shocked him to hear you behaving like this. His son was a grown man and none of you should be weighing in on his choices unless he asked for that. But that didn’t seem to be stopping you and Dove.

“Think they were just a fling if I’m honest.” It was a crass comment but Dove was shaking her head in agreement.

“Oi, those are our children. We should not be-“ putting her hand up Dove cut John off. She had run out of patience and didn’t feel like sugar coating the way she spoke.

“Join Simon in the truck if you’re going to be like this.” Pointing to the window John’s expression turned angry to be bossed around by someone who wasn’t you. Dove was at the end of her rope with irritable men and was fine being short with John.

“Agreed. There’s no judgement we’re just comparing notes.” You shrugged and then dramatically waved your arm towards the back door.

“Bloody ridiculous.” John snatched his present off the counter knowing it was an expensive bottle of alcohol and then grabbed two glasses.

“Such babies.” Dove sarcastically said before you jumped into figuring out the timeline of Mel and Jj’s relationship.

John wanted to slam the back door but he had spent way too much money on it to break it now. Stepping out on to the patio John could see Mel and Jj sitting on the dock down by the pond. He wondered what they were talking about and if Dove knew anything more than you did. Part of him wished he stayed to find out more but he couldn’t get himself to participate in good conscience.

Taking his attention off his son John looked over to see Simon sitting in his truck staring straight forward like a man possessed. John took a look at the present wrapped in red polka dot paper and then walked over to the truck. Simon tried to ignore John but eventually looked over at Price who was waving the gift and shaking two glasses at him.

It took Simon a moment to contemplate what to do but he knew that was an expensive bottle of bourbon. Mel had asked what John liked and Simon recalled him complimenting his bourbon last time he was over. So, Simon emerged from his truck and followed Price to the front of the house where they silently sat on the front porch and shared a drink.

Simon was the one to break the since. The wind chime on the front porch blew in the breeze, light chimes carrying with the wind.

“Your boy better step up.” Simon had his eyes fixed straight ahead and the glass to his lips.

His breath fogged the crystal, tilting his head back Simon drank the contents in one go with no reaction. He then poured himself another glass to sip on. It was going to take a lot of liquor to deal with everything going on. Simon didn’t normally speak to Price like this but his anger was at an all time high.

Mel was Simons little girl. She may not be biologically his daughter and he hadn’t met her until she was three but she was his daughter in all the ways that mattered. Simon would always see Mel as his first little girl, she had made him a father all those years ago when she struggled with her biological dad’s rejection. Simon was the man who stayed, who chose to raise her out of love not obligation. It was slow and took years but by the time Mel was five she bounced between calling him Simon or dad. Still to this day she called him either and he didn’t mind.

Simon felt particularly protective of Mel. He’d watched what the rejection of her biological father did to her. How she had trouble trusting that someone could love her who wasn’t her mother. It was years until Mel had truly accepted Simon as her father and he signed those adoption papers. But still to this day Simon knew she struggled accepting she could be truly loved; even by him.

Her independence was how she coped with the deep seated issue. No one could tell her what to do or how to live her life. She was the one in charge and who chose who could be in her life. It left her ready to leave relationships quickly or avoid them all together. The few Simon witnessed were with men who were uninterested in commitment; just like Jj. It was painful watching his oldest daughter set herself up for heart break. She was hyper sensitive to abandonment and Simon would murder the Price boy if he abandoned his pregnant daughter.

Simon wasn’t sure Mel would be able to recover if that happened.

“He will. I think you know that.” John sighed as he took a large gulp of the bourbon.

“His call sign is Mag. Because of the amount of birds he’s fu-“ John cut Simon off with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t pretend he’s not doing what every other young man does. He’s perfectly respectful of Mel, she’s the only one.” It was hard for John to sit here and not bite Simon’s head off for the constant disrespect.

John understood where Simon was coming from, he truly did. If his daughter came home six months pregnant and the man who did it wasn’t planning on marrying her, John would become murderous. But being on the other side and knowing the kind of man Jj was, John felt he should be given the space to do the right thing. Because John knew he raised Jj to do the right thing.

“I wasn’t. Dove can attest to that. Just because you were a slag in your youth doesn’t mean every man was.” It was surprising to learn that about Simon.

John wasn’t sure why but he assumed Simon was sleeping around as a young man. It’s who John was so it didn’t surprise him when Jj was like that. Maybe his idea of being sexually active was skewed.

“He’s going to do right by Mel. Give him a chance.” John tried to reason with Simon.

“Didn’t even know they were friendly, let alone dating.” The shame Simon felt for not picking up on this was deep rooted.

He was suppose to see signs like this. Pick up on the little details. Was he losing his edge? Simon saw Jj most days, they’d been deployed together, served together, he was Jj’s commanding officer. Mel even visited Simon a few times on base while Jj was with him. Had they been together at that point? Were the others in his command aware Jj was sleeping with Simons daughter? Was the joke on him?

“Still can’t fuckin’ believe it. Never thought it’d be those two who wound up together.” Taking another sip of his drink silence fell over them.

Maybe Price was right. Would it be harmful to give the boy a chance to do the right thing? It would mean more to Melody if Jj did it on his own instead of at gunpoint. So Simon sat there and tried to calm himself, because Mel deserved to have agency in her life. Simon needed to let her do this because he raised her properly and he trusted her judgement.

“I really think Ghost is going to try and get me killed next deployment.” Jj was staring out over the pond he had grown up swimming in.

The wind swept across the navy water leaving ripples in its wake. Sitting under the clear sky and warm sun was leaving Jj face tingly as the beams pricked his skin. Mel wouldn’t admit but she was running hot more so nowadays. She glanced out of the corner of her eye making sure Jj wasn’t looking as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Her back ached sitting on the wooden dock but her swollen ankles felt better dipped into the cool water. She liked that Jj helped get her shoes off and then how he joined her after rolling his pants legs up.

Jj was starting to wonder what it would be like for his children and what kind of childhood they would have. It felt strange to even think he was starting a family. Jj hadn’t been in a committed relationship since right before boot camp. Now here he was, about to be a dad. A dad with the girl he had a major crush on since he was ten.

“He’s a man baby, he’ll get over it. Just needs to throw a tantrum first.” Mel nudged Jj with her shoulder and gave him a soft smile.

The smile faded as she watched him continue to stare out over the pond. Jj wasn’t a particularly open book so getting him to share his feelings had been like pulling teeth at times. It’s what drew Mel to him, she found that kind of mysteriousness attractive. She also tended to go for emotionally unavailable men and it probably had to do with her abandonment issues from her biological father but she chose to ignore the truth.

“You okay?” Lightly placing her hand on Jj’s broad shoulder she shook him to grab his attention.

“You know I had a huge crush on you when we were kids? But you were two years older than me so I didn’t think you knew I existed.” With furrowed brows Jj shared this not knowing where he was going with it.

“It was kinda hard not to notice you at school since all the girls were in love with you. But you had Rory, so I never thought of you like that.” Mel admitted wondering what Jj was getting at.

“Well, Rory was the last girl I dated seriously. I haven’t really thought about settling down. Ya’know I’m gone a lot.” Jj continued to look out over the pond but he could feel Mel’s soft gaze on him.

She was sweet and fiery. A no nonsense person at times and then an absolute riot. She was funny, playful, and guarded. Her quick wit and need for privacy were alluring to Jj. Mel had been this way since they were kids, it’s why his crush never faded, because she consistently stayed the same. Now she was just grown, more mature, but held all the same things that made Jj’s head spin. He couldn’t deny she had always been his dream girl but it was hard admitting something so vulnerable.

“I know.” She spoke softly but there was no malice which Jj assumed there would be.

He kept wondering why she was okay with him being so uncertain on their relationship. Little did he know Mel was familiar with abandonment and never trusted a man to stay. So when she found out she was pregnant Mel was ready to do it on her own from the start.

“Jj, I don’t want you to marry me. Me getting pregnant was an accident. I mean c’mon we were stupid one time and this happened.” Mel motioned to her belly which finally had Jj looking down at the growing bump.

“It was more than once.” Jj mumbled.

“Well, once without a condom.” The cheeky comment made Mel laugh.

The two of them had never thought about dating one another. Sleeping together happened once, spur of the moment. It was at one of those big start of summer parties the Price family commonly threw.

Mel and Jj hadn’t seen each other in years but there was a chemistry they couldn’t deny that night. So they snuck to Jj’s old bedroom while everyone was downstairs. After that they only ever slept together when they happened to run into one another. Then it was more common when Jj started to call her up when he was home from deployment. And one drunken night they didn’t use protection and now here they were. About to be parents.

Back then when things were only about sex it was easy; because things were inconsequential. Lust was the driving force. The sneaking around was exhilarating. If Ghost ever caught them he would’ve killed Jj. And there was something incredibly hot about sleeping with his commanding officers daughter. Jj didn’t know it would feel that way until one day Ghost was particularly foul and Jj was smirking to himself about how he had bedded that assholes daughter. It was gross and he felt guilty for feeling that way until Mel made a joke about it. Telling Jj it ‘serves him right’ and that Jj clearly deserved one of the Riley’s to make it up to him.

“You don’t want me to marry you?” Jj asked as he placed his hand on Mels protruding belly.

“Jj we’ve barely dated. We kinda live together. Marriage is a huge step. I don’t even know if we’ll get on like that. I mean c’mon, the rest of our lives is a long time. You don’t have to saddle yourself with me.” Now it was Mels turn to look over the pond and avoid Jj’s eyes.

“I want to give it a go. Be a good dad. Be good to you. Like you deserve. I’m not gonna leave you high and dry just because we aren’t married.” Jj’s admission made Mel smile softly.

“And I’m not saddling myself with you. Like I said, I’ve had a crush on you since I was ten. If anything it’s a dream come true.” Jj hated how corny he sounded. Sweet talk was usually something he did to get laid but he meant what he was saying now; which was strange.

“I know. You’re a good man like that. Your Uncle John’s son after all. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Mel spoke sweetly.

She wasn’t sure she could believe Jj. If Mel was honest she didn’t think she could believe any man. But if there was a man who was trustworthy and wouldn’t leave it would be Jj; she was sure of that. Now she had to wait and see if it was possible, if a man like that existed or if it was a fairytale like she told herself. Mel just hoped deep down Jj wouldn’t let her down.

“So, do we continue letting them all think we were secretly dating?” Finally smiling Jj slid his finger between Mel’s and brought her hand to his lips leaving a ghost like kiss.

“I’m pretty sure your mum sees right through our lie. My mum wants to believe me but I know she doesn’t.” With a sigh Mel looked down at her belly and smoothed her hand over the fabric of her overalls.

“My mums a witch, Im surprised she didn’t know from the start. I swear she can read minds.” Jj watched as Mel was about to respond but cut in.

“Also you gotta stop calling my parents aunt and uncle. People’ll think we’re cousins.” This had been a point Jj harped on and finally Mel shook her head in agreeance.

“Fine, if it means that much to you.” With an eye roll Mel started to get up but was struggling, her belly made her off balance.

Jj rocketed to his feet and helped her up. There was this strange pang in his chest whenever Mel looked the slightest bit uncomfortable. No matter how hard he tried to shove those feelings down they were sprouting like weeds. Knowing she had been without him and keeping the pregnancy a secret for five months made him incredibly guilty.

“This might be crazy but I think we should move in. Properly. So I can take care of you. I don’t want to miss anything when-“ Jj sighed and placed his hand on Mel’s belly again.

“They come.” Jj’s emotions were betraying him as his lip wobbled.

Being a father was a huge step. Hell, he didn’t even know Mel was pregnant until last month. Jj had been deployed after their drunken night together and Mel wanted to tell him in person. So she waited until he was home and told him the news last month.

Jj was shell shocked. He completely disassociated for a day or two, unable to process the news. Mel gave him the space and accepted she would be a single mom. But Jj didn’t keep her waiting long. He showed up at her flat with flowers and a game plan on how things could work. He asked her to be his girlfriend and that they start to figure out what they wanted to do. Jj had been staying at Mel’s flat since then to take care of her because he would never skip out on his duties as a man. That, and he was drawn to her, always had been.

This was a family he was creating with Mel. Nothing would stop him from providing and keeping them safe. The fact he would be a father was what fueled him every day now. He was already in love with who lay in Mels womb and he would dedicate his life to protecting them; and now her.

“You gonna cry tough guy?” Mel sniffled seeing the man she was starting to fall for get emotional for the first time in front of her.

“That gonna scare you off?” With a chuckle Jj wiped his damp eyes with the heel of his hand and did his best to straighten back up.

“Not at all. And it’s not crazy.” Mel fiddled with the hem of Jj’s shirt as they slowly came closer to one another like magnets being pulled together. It started slow and then snapped together all at once.

In a second Jj’s hand had laced through the hair at the nape of Mel’s neck and he kissed her with much deeper intention than he ever had. It was no longer lust between them. There was this tightness that took over Jj’s chest. Seeing Mel pregnant could suck the air out of his lungs and had him stumbling over himself like an idiot.

Pulling apart the two caught their breath for a moment. Love drunk smiles spread across their faces as they began to make plans to solidify their future together.

“So, you moving into my place or do I have to subject myself to your bachelor pad?” Mel teased which earned a deep chuckle from the boy she hardly knew who had turned into the man that would father her children.

“We could look for one. Make it ours instead of yours or mine.” Taking Mel’s hand Jj started to lead them back up to the house.

“I like that idea. Rent or buy?” Mel asked a bit of skip to her step.

“Buy. I’ve saved up a good amount. We’re starting a family and kids deserve space to grow and run around outside.” Jj spoke as he looked around the grounds where he spent his own childhood.

Memories of camping out in the tree house with Evelyn came to mind. How he use to feed the chickens. The endless games of football he played with his family. Jj spent so much time out here playing with his little sisters and his friends. In his mind this is what a good childhood looked like.

“I like that. I grew up in flat after flat until mum and Simon bought a house.” Mel slipped her hand out of Jj’s and wrapped herself around his muscular arm.

It made Jj smile to have someone to call his. He’d been fighting commitment all his adult life and although a relationship had been thrust upon him, he liked it. He’d liked Mel since he first saw her as a young boy. It was an innocent crush that persisted through the years and he finally acted on as an adult.

“Hello love birds.” Dove teased watching Jj and Mel walk through the back door looking absolutely smitten with one another.

“Jesus.” Jj felt slapped by the word ‘love’ which became painfully obvious to everyone by the way he smoothly slipped his arm out of Mel’s grip.

“You’re emotionally stunted.” Mel whispered to Jj who started to blush at the blatant call out. She was smiling devilishly seeing him squirm.

“Where’s Unc- I mean John?” Mel corrected herself which had you and Dove sharing a look.

“Front porch with your dad. Need me to grab them?” Dove asked and Mel nodded. Dove squeezed Mel’s cheeks before walking off to grab the men.

“Sooo, your mum really doesn’t know much.” You smiled at Mel and she instantly felt caught out.

Jj stiffened knowing that look of yours all to well. This was the part where you admitted to catching him in a lie ages ago. He hated when you did this and let him go on like he was getting away with something.

“What do you mean?” Mel tried to play innocent but Jj simply put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head in defeat. It was crazy to him that being a grown man now didn’t stop him from feeling like a little kid around you from time to time.

“She knows. I don’t know how she knows but she just does.” Jj told Mel but it was clear by her expression she didn’t believe him.

“It started last summer at the party didn’t it?” You spoke with hushed words so you didn’t out the twos secrets because it truly was no ones business; not even yours.

They were grown and you had no right to tell them what they should or shouldn’t do. You also never asked because they deserved privacy and you didn’t want to pry, even if you had your suspicions. If Jj wanted you to know he would’ve told you.

“How-“ Mels eyes were bugging out of her head while Jj just looked defeated and took a seat at the counter.

“I told you, she’s a witch.” Jj aggressively pointed to his head referencing his comment about you being a mind reader.

“I’m not a witch, I’m just your mother.” You lightly laughed at your son.

He’d been calling you that since he was seven. Although he was a grown man with a child on the way you always saw that little goofy boy. The one who cried his eyes out when Evelyn climbed on to the roof. Who would pick you flowers from your garden and leave the rose bush hacked to bits. Your little boy who use to eat sand and bounced off the walls of this very home like a rubber ball. He was your first, the child who made you a mom.

Now look at him, the same age you were when you had him.

“What else do you know?” Mel asked sitting next to Jj.

“You two were not dating. I’m not even sure you’re dating now. You might be able to convince your fathers but me and your mum are smarter than that.” Giving Mel a nod she pursed her lips realizing she wasn’t as slick as she thought she was.

“Better be telling me you just proposed.” Simon was the first to emerge in the kitchen looking slightly less angry.

Dove and John were right behind and went to stand next to their respective partners. Mel rolled her eyes at Simon still being so upset and Jj tried to push down the fear Ghost left him with. It was irrational because being grown and fully capable Jj was convinced he could take Ghost in a fight. But having know the man from the time Jj was a child made Simon feel larger than life at times.

“We’re going to start looking at homes to buy. We aren’t ready for marriage but we plan on doing this together.” Jj spoke with confidence.

John’s hand squeezed yours beneath the counter. You both didn’t know how your son was going to handle this. You knew he was a good man and would do right by Mel but weren’t sure if that meant supporting her from a distance or being an active part in her life. This was an absolute relief compared to the uncertainty you had been left with last week when Jj and Mel told you over dinner.

“That what you want Mel? Have a baby unmarried?” Whatever John and Simon talked about on the front porch seemed to help settle Simon down if only somewhat. He seemed to be putting in the effort to listen more than judge.

“I’m not ready to get married. This is all new between me and Jj. And there’s something else.” Mel looked to Jj who gulped and then shook his head for her to continue.

You and John shared a look wondering what else there could possibly be. Finding out you were going to be grandparents a lot sooner than expected was enough of a shock. There couldn’t possibly be anything more surprising than that.

“It’s not ‘a’ baby. It’s twins.”

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

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