#I’m half tempted to ask if he’s insane but like also??

[scootkiddo]

apparently the portion of joel’s monologue that went “I have dreams I don’t remember but when I wake up I know that I’ve lost something. I fail her in my sleep” was improv from pedro

pedro are u good

[aureatchi]

“I GET LOST INSIDE ALL THE STARS IN YOUR EYES, IT’S A GALAXY.” ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, nikolai, sigma

— how do the bsd men kiss you? (& other things.)

a/n. rev writes this knowing well she’s awkward w physical touch ‘n has never kissed a guy. hdjshsh.

info. fem!reader. fluff !! + a bit sugg. established relationships. kissing, making out. mentions of bsd s5ep11 spoilers for dazai. pinch of angst if you squint.

DAZAI loves to listen to you ramble. he loves listening to you pour out your mind’s lively ideas to him out loud, whether it’d be something super philosophical that could match even his intellect, or something insignificant like the tv show you were watching last night before you fell asleep, waiting for him to come home. he is fascinated by anything and everything you say—so much, he wants to shroud the part of your body that speaks with love.

Which, of course, applied when Dazai finally returned to you from Meursault, after what had seemed like himself or you trying to cross the infinite sea of time.

You ran towards Dazai, his face clear and unhidden from the full moon’s light. He stood there with the biggest smile on his face, waiting for you to wrap your arms around his neck and envelope his taller figure in your embrace, but oh, he shouldn’t assume and expect loving gestures so quickly.

Instead, he was met with a fist to his chest, a punch with quite some power packed into it. Not enough to actually hurt him, of course, but Dazai would react dramatically either way.

“O-Ow! Bella!? What was that for?”

He looked down at you, catching an emotion as intense as fire in your eyes as you met his concerned, honey-dipped ones back, realizing you were being serious. Your fist was still connected to his upper body, and he stole a quick glance to observe your state—good, she’s been taking care of herself; she hasn’t skipped her meals—before meeting your face once again.

You let him bathe in a few moments of anxious silence before you finally started shouting.

“You didn’t even warn me!”

“I had no idea where you were!”

“Do you know how scared I felt?!”

Dazai continued to stand in place, not backing away when you continued to throw feeble punches at his torso with every frustration you cried out, when tears started to fall from your eyes, and when you stopped boxing him to surrender into his chest but not holding your tongue just yet.

“You’re so stupid and insane for this one, Osamu. Prison?! And you couldn’t even get a telephone to…yknow? Call me? Talk to me? I hate y—”

“Shh.”

Dazai had cupped your face, and before you could speak anymore, he sealed his lips over yours. Immediately, you kissed him back, abandoning all anger toward him by his action.

His eyes were half-lidded as he admired how yours looked in the silver moonlight. Up close, you were encompassed in his signature smell of green tea and a hint of mint, tempting you to keep him close to you even more.

“I…missed you so much, ‘samu” you said in between kisses.

“I’ve missed you even more.” You were lifted off of your feet, legs wrapped around his waist, as Dazai continued to press his mouth onto yours. He meant what he said—he savored the feeling of your warmth on him and the taste of your lips once again after not having it for so long. And robbing you of the same bliss along with it.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll make everything up to you, love,” he whispered as your hands found their way to sift through his soft, brunette hair. “I’ll kiss you as many times as you wish.”

“I’m sure you will even when I don’t wish,” you replied as you both pulled away for air, chuckling. “You’re not sly—we both know you kiss me to shut me up.”

“And I don’t see a problem with it?” he asked, his usual smug smile returning to his face before he gently peppered your forehead next.

“No. No, I don’t either.”

CHUUYA loves to spoil you. the top mafia executive spoils you with gifts, jewelry, accessories, breakfast…lunch…dinner, you name it. he also loves to spoil you with affection. after long days at work, he is always relieved to come home to the one good and comforting person in the world.

“Welcome home, Chuuya!” you greeted as you heard the front door open, the ginger-haired entering the house.

“Whatever you’re making smells delicious, doll,” he responded in a delightful tone, probably the first time he spoke so pleasantly all day.

You smiled. “I just finished making dinner.”

He walked toward you in the kitchen, pulling you into a hug.

“What’s up?” you replied, giggling at embrace as you wrapped your arms around him in return.

“Just missed you, that’s all,” Chuuya replied. “ You’re heaven-sent, yknow.”

You felt touched by his words. “I missed you too, Chuu,” you replied. “And I’m glad you feel that way. You deserve the best, and that’s what I’m trying to be.”

“Doll, you are the best. And you deserve the best,” he responded.

“Like this.” He gently lifted the custom necklace clasped around you. It was his present for one of your anniversaries, brought from some foreign country.

“But you deserve even more than material things.” He moved hair out of your face as he looked into your eyes.

He then moved closer to your face until his lips brushed over yours, and you could feel the warmth of his face.

“Something like this,” he said and then kissed you.

Luxurious as he was, his cologne smelled the same, completely engulfing you in his world. Chuuya showed you just how much you deserved by trailing his hands down to your waist, soothingly adoring every part. Meanwhile, his cerulean eyes gazed into yours, recording how pretty you looked to save in his mind.

“You’re so beautiful, doll.”

He felt you smile against his lips. “And you’re so handsome.” You broke away and then took the hat off of Chuuya’s head.

“You’re like…the person who can pull off the fedora the best.” You placed the hat on your head, his scent even more prominent on that accessory.

“You say that, yet I think I have competition now. Y’look cute with it on too.” Chuuya smiled, approving you with his signature hat.

You placed a kiss on his cheek. “Let’s eat now before the food gets cold.”

RANPO was very high-maintenance. you had to buy him snacks, you had to give him hugs, you had to do anything in the best wishes of the world’s greatest detective or else…he’d whine. and once he started complaining, he would not back down until you gave in. yet, however childish he was, you found him cute and didn’t love ranpo any less for his call of your affection.

“Ranpo! What do you need?”

Your boyfriend had run into the bathroom where you were trying to do your makeup, currently putting lipstick on your face.

“ ‘m really hungry,” he said, obnoxiously staring at you apply the red shade to your lips.

“Hungry? Oh, the snacks are in the pantry. I thought you’d already seen them?”

“No! I don’t want them!”

“Huh?” You paused and immediately turned toward him in utter disbelief that he had just declined his favorite food.

“Are you okay, Ranpo?”

“No!” He was unanticipatedly so loud that you flinched, accidentally running the lipstick off your mouth.

“…You’re not looking for snacks?”

“No!”

“Then what do you want?!”

“You!”

There was an awkward silence, and you noticed Ranpo’s face had gone entirely the shade of your lip as he stood, pouting.

It was apparent he was embarrassed for what he just blurted out. You almost wanted to laugh.

“You could’ve just asked me!” you replied with a chuckle in your voice. “Come here.”

Ranpo trodded toward you, still visibly frustrated.

“What do you want?” you asked.

“Well, first of all, you didn’t kiss me before I left for work this morning!”

You sighed, amused that he was whining so much because of that. And how he would never directly admit what he wanted from you—always making you have to solve puzzles and guess riddles to figure him out.

But it was also incredibly endearing how Ranpo took all your affections toward him to heart, no matter how big or small they were.

“Awh, I’m sorry I missed that,” you replied. “I’ll make that up to you.”

You kissed Ranpo’s cheek, stamping a red signature on the spot. You moved to his other cheek, and then his forehead, and then everywhere in between until he was covered in your smooches.

“Look!” you turned Ranpo toward the mirror for him to see what art you’ve created on him.

“You’re forgetting one place,” he said, turning his face to look at all angles.

“Really? Where?” you asked. He surely didn’t need anymore—his whole face showed proof you touched him everywhere with your lips.

“Here stupid, duuuuh,” he responded, kissing you on the lips. He moved your back to the edge of the sink counter, and then lifted you up to sit on it.

“Hungry, are you?” you giggled as he teased you with his tongue. “I avoided that spot on purpose, stupid.”

“Who are you calling stupid, stupid?” He ran his thumb over the stain your lipstick messed up on. You could feel him smirk.

“You, stupid! It was your fault after all. And look at your face!”

“Sweetheart, if you’re calling me stupid, you are too. One, you’re just stupid, and two, you’re stupid for being with me!”

You pulled back, laughing. “If I must be stupid to be with you, then I guess I’m stupid.”

“There’s a solution! If you call me smart, it’ll make you smart.”

“Fine, Ranpo. You’re the smartest person I know in this world.”

NIKOLAI loves surprising you. he finds your sudden reactions nothing short of adorable. which is why he caught you off-guard so much, so that he could see the cute responses you made, duh? widened eyes, mini jumps, and yelps were a few things he oddly took delight in.

Which is why the jester loves to surprise you with a kiss whenever he greets you. Though, whenever he does, you receive no warning. And you never know whether he wants to give you a simple peck on the lips or a full-on makeout session. It was expected to always be unexpected.

You were walking down the hallway to your room with a basket of clean laundry when you suddenly heard the all-too-familiar cheery, charismatic voice.

“Dove being productive, hm?” he chirped.

You scanned the entire room with your eyes, but you couldn’t see Nikolai anywhere, even though there was nowhere to hide.

“Kolya?”

“Hehe…I think it’s time for a quiz time!! Where am I?

“Am I here?” You heard a swift movement to the right of you, but as you turned, nothing was there.

“Orrr, here?” Now, you felt something brush your left side, but once again, when you turned to look, you were greeted only by Casper.

“How about here?” His voice was suddenly quieter but closer, more intimate.

You felt his frame against your back.

“Kolya!” you jolted in reflex, dropping the laundry basket—not expecting Nikolai to appear right behind you—but then, he surprised you even more by turning your face to the side and crashing his lips into yours.

He was so tall that he could easily lean over you to kiss you from behind your back.

You made a muffled squeal, and in the next moment, Nikolai had you against the wall with your hands above your head.

He stared at you as if nothing else in the world mattered because he already knew the reaction he would get out of you. You felt so shy and vulnerable under his complete gaze, but Nikolai was also mean—he didn’t allow you to move an inch to save face.

He wanted to enjoy the full show.

“H-hey! You can at least blink…” you blurted out when he finally let your face go, though he immediately grabbed you again seconds after.

“Hm? What’d you say, dove?” he asked, kissing you again. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were so soft and tasted like candy—how could he not be greedy for more?

“You’re so cute, baby!” he exclaimed when he finally pulled back. You were panting—Nikolai showed no mercy when he wanted you to himself.

But you still smiled in return when he gently bopped you on the nose with his mouth, a stark contrast to what he just did.

“Ah, did I get carried away?” He only then noticed you out of breath. “Sorry, I just missed you so much!”

“It’s alright,” you replied, hugging him, the scent of strawberry cake lingering on his body. “Though, whatever happened to a hi; hello?”

“You’ll never get anything boring from me, dove,” Nikolai giggled. “That’s one thing I’m certain of.”

SIGMA treats you like the most precious thing in the world, a princess. you need your shoes tied? oh, he’s on the floor with the laces. you need to go somewhere? he’s driving you there. you want to visit the sky casino? he would rig all the games so that you’d win every time. sigma is sweet and polite—he would always make sure you are fine with something before going ahead with it.

“How about here? I think this is a nice spot.”

“Okay! Let’s set our stuff here then.”

You and Sigma set down everything you brought for your evening picnic on the hills. The spot he had pointed out was directly in front of the sun setting behind the mountains, its golden glow bathing the earth in the day’s final hour of light.

Once all the food was organized on the blanket, you took out a couple of ribbons from your pocket.

“Do you want me to help you?” Sigma asked as you tried to figure out where to put them in your already-styled hair without a mirror. He noticed your struggle.

“Oh! Sure,” you replied with a shy smile, and immediately after, he was behind you, taking the braids in your hair and tying the ribbons onto those.

“Thank you,” you replied when he was done, and when Sigma stepped back, he smiled in admiration.

“Of course.” He took your hand as you both sat beside each other.

“It’s so pretty here.” You turned to face the mountains, the sun halfway below the horizon. “You were right; this is the perfect spot!”

You looked back at Sigma, but it seemed like he paid no attention to the view at all. His eyes were only on you.

“…Sigma?”

“Y-you look really pretty,” he said, eyes not leaving once you made eye contact with him.

“…Can I kiss you?”

Immediately, you felt your heart melt because your lover was so innocent and lovely. You had been together for months, yet he was still asking for permission to kiss you.

“Of course, Sigma! We’re literally dating, you can kiss me whenever you want.”

“O-okay!” You giggled at his smitten reaction.

You closed your eyes and puckered your lips in a dramatic act of preparation.

It seemed you had been mistaken, though. Because, he had kissed you on the forehead.

“O-Ohh—oops, I thought you meant-”

But then, Sigma’s lips were over yours. His hand that wasn’t holding yours gently guided your face towards his. His touches were all tender, expressing how much he adored you.

You wrapped your own free hand around his neck, pulling him closer. You opened your eyes slightly to take a peek, seeing his own were fluttered closed under such pretty eyelashes, and his expression content, basking in your comfort.

It was as if you and him finally breaking away was the moon’s cue to rise. The sun had set entirely by the time you were done, shades of warm-toned colored clouds left as a trail.

“That was sneaky of you, Sigma,” you laughed, cheeks warm and your head a bit hazy from how everything in the setting was so dreamy. “You tricked me by going for my forehead first.”

“I wasn’t going to kiss you straight-up like that! It was intimidating, you just waiting!”

You laughed some more, seeing his own cheeks tint a light shade of pink. “Come on, let’s eat.”

if u rb this post, i heard that ur fav will kiss u tn! reblogs are cherished; they support me as a creator. <3

© aureatchi 2023. no reposts or translations. do not steal.

[suniix]

small bite | (botw) link x reader

synopsis | reader gets cute agression and bites link

word count | 624

note | two posts in one day is insane but sorry i’ve fallen into a rabbit hole ever since totk came out so have another blurb!! 😣 first time writing for link so idk how i feel about it 💔 (also yes i just did one for inumaki i like the idea leave me alone)

The campfire made crackling sounds as Link fed it more logs. The sun had set long ago, the moon rising to take its place and casting a white glow across the land. The two of you had been traveling for a long time without breaks, so when you suggested that the two of you should rest for the night, Link offered no complaints. You were tired, the horses were tired; a break would benefit everyone.

You sat on the ground, far enough away so you wouldn’t get burned but close enough to still feel the warmth of the fire. Link took a seat right next to you on the floor, holding up mushroom skewers with a grin.

“Seriously? We just ate not too long ago.” You laughed, accepting the skewer nonetheless.

The two of you ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the small dinner Link had made (though, to be honest, you know he’ll make more, his stomach is like a void that never gets full). Finishing your skewer, you close your eyes, basking in the ambiance of the night. Somewhere in the distance, there was a cricket chirping. The grass tickled your legs as a small breeze passed through, making you shiver. It’s moments like this that give you hope for a new life after Ganon is defeated. Soon, you’ll have peaceful nights like this every day.

A rustling sound brings you out of your thoughts. Turning to look at Link, you noticed him preparing another skewer. You hold back a laugh, knowing you were right. Link hears you nonetheless and raises an eyebrow, almost as if saying, ‘What?’. You wave him off, a small giggle managing to escape. “It’s nothing, you keep eating.”

Link rolls his eyes, but you don’t fail to see the small smile growing on his lips. It’s not often that you get to see it, but he has a really nice smile. You wish you had the Sheikah slate right now to capture it.

In this moment, you can’t help but admire how beautiful he is. The light from the fire gave his sun-kissed skin a golden glow. His eyelashes are long, something you’ve commented on several times while on your journey together, casting shadows against his cheeks. Actually, his cheeks are unusually round today.

You’re tempted to squish them.

Silently debating whether or not to squish, you figure he wouldn’t mind. He does it often to you; this is only fair. Link turns to look at you as you lean in, half expecting you to kiss him, but instead you cup his cheeks. He gives a confused hum as you gently squish them for a few moments.

Slowly, you begin to pull him close to you. Now, Link thinks, now is when you give him a kiss. To his surprise, you bit his cheek. He doesn’t pull away; he just silently sits there as you bite his cheek.

When you pull away, Link is sitting there, confused. Link raises his skewer to you, gesturing for you to take it. This causes you to burst out laughing. “No no! I’m not hungry haha, just wanted to bite your cheek!”

“.. you sure?” Link asks, half expecting you to bite his cheek again.

“Yes, Link, I’m sure.” You laugh. You grab his free arm and wrap it around your shoulder, snuggling into his side for warmth.

Link goes back to eating, pulling you closer with his arm, still wondering where your sudden urge to bite him came from. While he was distracted, you turned to his arm that’s wrapped around your shoulder and bit his forearm. He flinches, once again caught off guard.

“If you’re hungry, please tell me.. I promise I didn’t eat everything and can make you another skewer.”

thank you for reading till the end! :D

masterlist

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f! reader - vol. v

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | photo cred

chapter summary: You knew yourself, and the way that you could get hung up on the right kind of person. Joel was that kind of person. But you don’t like how formal this feels. So real. -- In other words, Joel takes you on your first date. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 8.6k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY (it's happening, folks!) - unprotected sex, please dm if you want specifics but I’m not trying to spoil too much. If you don't want to read the smut, it doesn't happen until about halfway through the chapter. Crying after sex. Angst. FLUFF. Mentions of anxiety & self-doubt, alcohol consumption.  a/n: Help! I can’t stop writing fit checks into this story!! This ended up being insanely horny but also shockingly sweet. I worked way way way too hard on it so please say nice things to me. Might need to take a couple days off because I'm really feeling burnt out. So please enjoy in the meantime.

-May 16, 2003-

Joel doesn’t like lying to Sarah.

Although, he’s not sure that he’s lying to her as much as he is simply….omitting information. Depending on who you ask, that could still be considered lying.

He’s fresh out of the shower when he steps into the living room, fishes through the catch-all basket located just inside the front door, and pockets his wallet and keys.

“Where are you going?” 

Sarah’s lounging on the couch, on her back, one of her hands slung behind her head. There’s a book opened on her lap, but she’s not reading. “You’re all dressed up.”

Joel looks down at his green flannel shirt, tucked into a pair of dark jeans. Truth be told, he’s a little ashamed he doesn’t have anything nicer in his closet. It’s not like he ever has any occasion to dress up, but he’s already feeling self-conscious and being (most likely) underdressed isn’t helping. Based on the very limited information he knows about your past relationships, you’re probably accustomed to crisp dress shirts, ties, blazers. He doesn’t own any of those things — he did, at one point, have the tux from his wedding, but he’d gotten rid of it after the divorce. Every time he saw it in the back of his closet, it made him sick. Regardless, tonight he’d done the best he could otherwise - showered, trimmed his beard, and even dug through his medicine cabinet for an old – probably expired – bottle of cologne. Hopefully it was enough. 

“I’ve uh….I’ve got a date.” Joel says. 

The theme song from That’s So Raven is blaring through the living room, but it immediately cuts out as Sarah presses mute and sits up entirely from her spot on the couch. “Really?”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Joel says. “Your uncle is coming over, though, he’s gonna drop me off and then he said he’d take you to the movies.”

As if on cue, he hears Tommy’s truck pull into the drive. “Yes!” Sarah leaps up from the couch. “I have to change first.”

“Hurry up, babygirl, I’m already runnin’ behind,” Joel calls after her. 

Tommy knocks twice on the front door before letting himself in anyways. 

“You’re late,” Joel informs, shutting the door behind him. They should’ve left five minutes ago, and the last thing Joel wants is for you to think he’s not punctual. To be fair, he’s not, and almost never is. But you don’t need to know that….yet. 

“Hello to you, too,” Tommy trails after him into the kitchen. Joel is tempted to chug a beer, or fish the half-empty bottle of whiskey he’s got in the cabinet out to take a shot — just to take the edge off. But he refrains. It wouldn’t be a good look to show up smelling of booze.

“So…who's the lucky lady?” When Joel doesn’t answer right away, Tommy presses. “Come on, Joel, who is it?” 

He contemplates telling his brother the truth, but he doesn’t want to give him the idea that he had taken his advice. He didn’t. Well maybe he did, but he knows Tommy will become insufferable if he finds out. 

“Is it who I think it is?” Tommy asks. “It better be.”

Unfortunately, Tommy knows him too well. They’re brothers, and really, Joel’s first and oldest friend. The answer is written all over his face. 

Tommy grins. “Fucking finally. Oh my god, dude, I thought you’d never-”

“Alright, alright!” Joel interjects, eyes darting nervously up the stairs, where he hears his daughter shuffling around in her bathroom. “Keep your mouth shut, I haven’t told Sarah yet.” 

Tommy raises his hands in defense, but at least seems to understand how serious Joel is. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna say anything. Are you excited?”

“Yeah,” Joel looks down at the countertop, and is compelled to be honest with his little brother. “I’m uh….I’m a little nervous, though. Been awhile since I’ve done anything like this.” 

Tommy grows serious. “Do you want my advice?” 

“Yours?” Joel feels like whatever advice he has to offer is likely questionable, particularly with someone like you. “No thanks. I’d rather make a good impression.”

His brother ignores the subtle dig. “You sure? Because unlike you, I actually go on dates. I mean, it’s been what, like….ten years?” He crosses his arms, pretends to think. It’s probably only been a couple of months since the last time Joel took someone out, and Tommy knows it, but he loves to dramatize. “I mean at this stage, you’re basically a born-again virgin. Do you even remember how to put on a condom?” 

Joel crosses his arms and glares at his brother, who begins giggling at his bad joke. “I knew I shouldn’t have fucking said anything to you,” he shakes his head.

“Oh come on Joel, you’ll be fine,” Tommy says. “Really. She’s into you. I could tell when we were all together the other night. Even when I was dancing with her, I kept catching her lookin’ your way…”

“Yeah, well….” Joel rubs the back of his neck to play off the surge of warmth he gets from this information. “Thanks.”

Sarah’s bathroom door opens, and he hears the staccato beat of her sneakers coming down the stairs. Joel points at Tommy one last time. “Not a word, understand?” 

Tommy nods just as she rounds the corner.

“Uncle Tommy!” Sarah raises her hand to give him a high-five, which they both purposely miss so they can collide palms on the downswing, grab each other’s hands and then begin a secret handshake so complex that Joel, who has seen it a thousand times, still doesn’t think he could execute correctly if he tried.

“How’s my favorite niece?” 

“I’m your only niece.” 

“Touche,” they shoot at each other with finger guns before she wraps him in a hug and Tommy presses his nose to the top of her head. Despite the fact that their little routine is costing Joel precious time, almost all the annoyance he’d been feeling with his brother dissipates at the sight.

“We all ready?” Tommy asks her, then points at him. “Don’t want to make this casanova late.”

“Yeah, of course not,” Sarah looks over at Joel with a smile that doesn’t seem entirely sincere. When she was younger and he’d gone on dates, she always had a lot more questions. Who is it? What is she like? When can I meet her? Is she pretty? Over the years, however, she became less and less interested. It was because she was smart, and had caught onto the pattern - he’d go on a date, maybe one or two more, then there’d be a long period of nothing before the cycle repeated itself every couple months. It rarely developed into anything that would concern her, and Joel always kept the details to himself.

While they’re en route to the restaurant – a little French bistro that had opened up recently — Sarah and Tommy bicker about what movie they want to see.

“I wanna see Holes. I just read the book.”

Tommy grimaces. “What about Matrix Reloaded? It just came out.”

“I already told dad I’d go to that with him.”

“So?” he looks between Sarah and Joel. “Why can’t you just see it twice?”

“No,” Sarah says emphatically. “I have to see it with dad first. It’s not fair.” 

Tommy groans, mutters under his breath. “I can’t believe you let her watch that crap,” as if he wasn’t about to do the same thing.

“She likes it,” Joel shrugs.

“All the more reason to see it tonight.”

“Tommy,” Joel warns. 

“Fine.”

“I don’t really like it, though. I just like to keep dad company so he doesn’t have to see it alone.”

“You’re too nice,” Tommy takes a beat. “Are you sure you aren’t adopted?”

“Shut up,” Joel and Sarah answer at the same time, and Joel holds his palm behind him for his daughter to slap. 

Tommy acquiesces, his truck jolting as it pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant. Joel’s heart rate picks up immediately. The car rolls to a stop and Joel turns to look at both of them. “Alright, I’ll be home by midnight.”

“Sounds good,” says Sarah. 

“Have fun,” Tommy raises his eyebrows, winks, and thankfully Sarah doesn’t see it, because she’s getting out of the truck to take Joel’s spot shotgun. He makes sure she’s settled with her seatbelt on before he shuts the door.

He isn’t trying to waste time, but Joel watches them pull out of the lot and back onto the street before he goes inside the restaurant. Really, he just needs a minute to collect himself. There’s no good reason for him to be as anxious as he is, he’s already kissed you once, and you had seemed to like it — quite a lot too. For the past week the feeling of your body pressed up against him, legs around his torso, was pretty much all he thought about when his mind wandered. Mostly at night before bed, and even today, in the shower when he was getting ready - just to try and calm down. Even now, the idea leaves him flustered.

Nevertheless, this probably isn’t even technically a first date. He hasn’t had issues speaking to you in the past, so this should be easy. Right? But what if you change your mind? And what if it dawns on you that he’s not your type? Even worse, what if you realize he’s just not good enough? 

Joel forces himself inside before he talks himself out of this. When he enters, he sees you first. You’re across the room, leaning over the small bar where a few other patrons are. Greedily, he takes you in, and it’s easy to trace your figure in the tight black shift dress you’ve got on, sheer black tights underneath. It’s sleek, stylish - not that Joel knows much about that. As usual, you stand out in stark contrast to every other person in the place. He likes it. But he feels underdressed. He’ll look ridiculous standing next to you, and he briefly considers turning around, leaving, and saving himself the embarrassment.  

That’s until you move, angling yourself towards him and scanning the restaurant, an elbow resting on the bar, a hand on your knee. You’re looking for him, waiting for him, and finally, you’re rewarded when your eyes catch. Suddenly, Joel doesn’t care about what he’s wearing. He doesn't care that he’s not good enough. At the very least, he doesn’t have to guess if you’re interested in him anymore, not with how you’re gazing at him — a soft smile and narrowed eyes that betray your enthusiasm. Sure, he's not good enough, but he decides if he’s going to go down in flames, he’ll do it trying to convince you otherwise.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Maybe I should’ve eaten a proper lunch, you think to yourself. You’ve barely touched the drink in your hand, but you’re already starting to feel it. And even though you are the designated driver tonight, for now, the slight buzz is welcome, working to soothe. 

Over the years, you’d been on your fair share of first dates. Unlike most…you don’t hate them. For whatever reason, getting to know new people had always come easy, particularly if they were the right person. Being a lawyer, you had a knack for talking yourself into or out of almost anything. So it was just as easy to let someone know if they weren’t the right person. The best part of first dates, however, was that they lacked all the things you hated — promises, expectations, and conversations that went deeper than general pleasantries. 

So all things considered, you shouldn’t feel as tense as you do right now.

There’s a few factors that might have something to do with it, and your brain turns them over,  biding your time until your date arrives. 

First is the text that sits opened on your BlackBerry.

Dad’s home from the hospital. Doing better. Call when you can. - Vince

Your father has been in and out of the hospital for the last month or so, his health rapidly declining. But every update from your brother, however innocent they may be, feels like veiled threats. You should be here. You should know this. I shouldn't have to text you about it. I can’t believe I’m the only one looking after him. A part of you wants to believe that Vincent wouldn’t play that sort of game with you, but as you’ve gotten older and grown apart, you’d gotten worse at deciphering his motivations. Vaguely, you acknowledge that you could just be projecting, and you are the only one trying to make you feel bad. 

And then there’s Joel. 

He’s running late, you hope, or he’s stood you up. And you have already promised yourself that you’re only gonna wait ten more minutes before heading home with your tail tucked between your legs. The thought of that makes you regret agreeing to this in the first place. You’d already embarrassed yourself the last time you were together, practically begging him to take you on the kitchen countertop, but he’d insisted on doing this right. You should’ve pushed harder because you’re starting to think that maybe, just maybe….a zipless fuck would’ve sufficed. Oh, who were you kidding? You knew yourself, and the way that you could get hung up on the right kind of person. Joel was that kind of person. But you don’t like how formal this feels. So real. 

He knows you better than most first dates do. You’ve told him more about your family, about your fucked up childhood, about your aversion to committed relationships more than any friend you’ve made since moving to Texas. And he listened. It should make you feel better. He knows what he’s getting himself into, and he asked you here anyways. Maybe he’s having second thoughts. 

For what feels like the thousandth time, you check your emails and take a sip of your dirty martini – your preferred vehicle for alcohol consumption. Ultimately, you like the idea of a martini more than the actual taste, but you appreciate how direct they are. You scan the restaurant one last time, doing your best to look casual, like you don’t really care. Like you’re supposed to be there alone. 

But when your head turns towards the entrance, Joel is standing across from you. 

He gives you a bashful smile, one that makes your stomach flip, and makes his way over – though he doesn’t seem to be in a rush. It’s like he knows you’d sit and wait for him for as long as it takes – you would, you will, you are. 

When he finally lands in front of you, one thumb hooked in the belt loop of his dark-wash jeans, he leans forward and presses his lips to your cheek for the briefest moment, and pulls back, looking you up and down. 

“It’s good to see you, darlin’,” he murmurs softly. The term of endearment makes your ears feel hot. You're shocked at the effect he has on you, almost can’t believe it. It scares you, too, but you want to chase the feeling. “You look great.”

“So do you,” because you’re not one to lie. He does. As good as always, but he might’ve trimmed his beard for the occasion and maybe….put on cologne? It’s hard to tell, and in your brief experience being so close to him, he’s always smelled good regardless. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes. “Can’t count on Tommy to get me anywhere on time.”

“It’s alright,” you say casually, like you hadn’t had your whole exit strategy planned out just minutes ago. “I got to have a drink while I wait. You want something?” you gesture towards the bartender. 

“Sure,” Joel answers. “How about an old fashioned?” There’s no room for him to sit, so he leans next to you, arm on the bartop, invading your personal space while you wait for your table. Your skin buzzes like you’ve never been this close to a man before in your life. Pathetic. 

He orders his drink before he speaks to you again. “Have you been here before?” he asks. 

You shake your head no. “I was planning on coming a couple months ago but….never got around to it.”

“It’s good,” he says. “I’ve been a couple times.”

“Is this where you take all the girls you go out with?” you raise an eyebrow, grateful that your voice sounds even despite the way your blood is fizzing, your heart pumping so fast you can feel it in your ears. 

Joel shakes his head no. “That’s down the street.”

“Oh?” you nod, sip your drink. Whatever buzz you’d been feeling is gone in the wake of adrenaline. “So….why didn’t you take me there, then?”

“It’s not as nice,” Joel smirks, leaning in a little closer – if it were possible. His lips are practically touching your ear, and his voice is raspy for what comes next. “And I’m trying to impress you.” 

“Right,” you can’t help but smile, pulling back so you can lock eyes. He’s so sincere you can’t even think up a clever quip in return. “How thoughtful.” 

He gives you a cheeky grin. You want to touch him, want to hold him, want to fist the front of his shirt or tug on the hair at the back of his neck and stick your tongue down his throat like you aren’t surrounded by an entire restaurant of patrons. 

It’s going to be the longest fucking dinner of your life. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You survive. 

But at a cost. 

And you don’t learn anything new about Joel, except for the fact that your memory hasn’t exaggerated how charming he is, how charismatic, how thoughtful. All the times you’d allowed yourself to daydream about him didn’t hold a candle. Enjoying the meal is difficult, because you just want to get him alone. He can sense it – you’re pretty sure, because he orders himself a coffee after dessert, and sips on it ever-so-slowly, smirking at you over the rim of the mug.

When dinner’s over, you offer to drive Joel home, since he’d gotten a ride here. By this point, the martini is long gone from your system and you sort of want to pour yourself another when you get home. Even if you don’t drink much, the nerves have resurfaced. 

He walks a few paces behind you as you leave the restaurant, taking his time, and you step to your side of the car, making to unlock it – until something grabs your bicep – briskly – and spins you around. 

It’s Joel. He snuck up behind you, you hadn’t heard, and he’s right in front of you now, pinning you between the car and his body, surrounding you entirely. He lifts a hand, cups your cheek, and kisses you. It happens so fast you let out a whimper of surprise – directly into his mouth, but he swallows it down, and cradles you so gently, but still firm. Resolute. I’m not letting you go.

When he pulls back, you notice his cheeks are flushed, ever so slightly. It makes you wonder what you could do to see them get even redder. Your arms have found their way to rest on his shoulders, and you’re boxed in, the handle to your car door digging into your ass. Without a word, just a cheeky grin, he retreats to the passenger's side of the car and gets inside. 

You settle in the driver's seat beside him, and he looks over at you. “Hope that was okay, I couldn’t wait…” he says, almost apologetically. “But I was tryin’ all night to be good.”

“Yeah, well….not much use in that anymore,” you tilt your head. “Do you want to….hang out at my place?”

“Yeah, we can ‘hang out’ at your place,” Joel quips.

Scoffing in mock offense, you offer a retort. “What would you rather me have said? Come over for a nightcap? That’s a little cliche.”

He grimaces, as if he’s in agreement. You continue. “Or would you rather I be more direct? Joel, why don’t you come over so we can have sex?”

That makes him laugh, loudly, and it’s such a warm, comforting sound, you wish you could find a way to capture it and hear it over and over again. “Oh, is that what’s going to happen?” he asks. 

“Guess we’ll find out,” You shrug, trying to play it off, in case you overstepped. Then you focus on putting the keys in the ignition without fumbling. 

It’s not a long drive back to your place, but Joel seems determined to make sure it feels like it is. Either that, or he’s trying to get you to cause an accident. First his hand is resting on the back of your neck, brushing through the hair at the base of your skull. Then it’s on your shoulder, his thumb pressing into your taut muscles. You actually have to bite your tongue so you don’t moan. It’s not even sexual, really, but it just feels good to be touched, especially by him.

Eventually, you hit a stoplight, and while you’re waiting, his hand continues to wander…and comes to rest just above your knee. His hands are fucking huge, first of all, which maybe you’ve noticed before, and there are a few scars and scratches on the backs of his knuckles. It's the weight of it, the warmth of it, the way he’s settled it so casually like it’s nothing – like it belongs there, and he doesn’t even have to ask. Of course he doesn’t. And the confidence, the cockiness. It feels like someone’s taken an arrow to the pit of your stomach, and something thick and hot starts curling down, down, down….

You swallow hard, and he’s looking at you. He doesn’t speak right away, just stares, something dark and unfamiliar in his eyes. 

“I hope I’m doing alright,” voice raspy, low, but still smooth as ever.

Shaking your head, you’re able to surface just enough over the haze of arousal. “You want a performance review?” you tease, giving a small smile. “We should hold off on that until later…” 

That makes Joel laugh again, your stomach flips, and his thumb begins to stroke your kneecap, his fingers kneading into the soft flesh, inching forward to clasp farther inward, nearly grabbing at you, squeezing. The only thing separating his skin from your own is a thin pair of stockings that end dangerously close to where his hand is working. If he finds out that he’s just a few centimeters away from meeting bare skin, you’re afraid of what could happen.

“Joel,” you warn.

“What?” he asks, voice light and innocent.

“You’re distracting me.” 

“You want me to stop?”

No. The light turns green, and you have to hold back the impulse to break every traffic law if it means you’ll get to have him just a second sooner. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“--my room is–” Joel cuts you off with another searing kiss, and it takes a second before you can conjure the self control to pull away again to finish the thought. “--down the hall.” 

“Yeah?” 

He’s got you crowded back against the entry closet of your house, hovering over you, one of his hands bracing itself beside your head, and the other slowly dragging down your body, his lips following….moving down your neck. 

“Uh-huh,” you barely can get it out between strangled gasps for air. 

And then he’s hooking his hands behind your knees. “Are you sure you don’t want, like-” Joel lifts you, and you lock your legs around his torso. “An amaretto or something?”

“No,” he’s gripping on to you so tightly it hurts, but you don’t mind. 

“I could put on….a record-”

“No,” he repeats, and you’re being carried down the hall. 

You hadn’t expected him to pounce on you the instant that you came in through the garage door. Not that you minded. It’s just that usually you’d play it a bit more coy. You’d set the mood, light a candle, have a chat. But, you suppose you don’t need to do anything to get you in the mood. You’re already there. 

Joel’s mouth never separates from you, not until you’re in your room. He’s so sure of himself, you think he might be the type to throw you into the mattress, climb on top of you and rip at the zipper on the back of your dress. But he doesn’t. You’re laid down delicately, like you’re made of glass, and he’s being careful not to break you. 

He weaves his thumb and forefinger around both your wrists, then pulls them up so they’re pinned above your head. This way, you’re completely at his mercy. When he lowers himself between your legs, and you feel the weight of his body pressed against you, you groan, fighting against the restraint, desperate to touch him. So you do the best you can and wrap your stocking-clad feet around his waist, trying to get some leverage, to bring him closer.

“Just wanna take my time with you, darlin’,” he murmurs softly, like he can read your mind. You’re starting to think he can – how else can he be so irresistible on his own accord?

Joel makes good on his promise. With you all docile beneath him, he takes the opportunity to kiss every inch of exposed skin available – even though you’re still fully clothed. Each press of his lips has you breathing unevenly – sighing, then gasping, then sharp, short inhales. When he finds a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, you can’t help but giggle and quirm. 

Joel huffs in response, releasing you from his hold, and he tilts his head to whisper in your ear. “Do you have any idea how much I like hearing that? Knowing it’s because of me?” Immediately, you lower your hands to cup his cheeks, to regard him. He can’t be serious. 

“You’re too sweet,” you mutter. 

“So are you,” he answers, and ducks his head to return to your neck. “So sweet, and so fucking pretty, too…” His hands begin wandering, one of them cupping your breast, thumb finding a peaked nipple even through the fabric of your dress and your bra. The words he’s saying are too much, you’ll do anything to make him shut up, arching your back so you can feel him – already hard – against your clothed core. 

“Joel-” 

“God, I want to see you-fuck!” he pulls back, rolls you over, and you shift your weight so he has access to the dress’ zipper at your side. He makes quick work of it, and brings you to a seated position, helping you remove it all the way before kissing you again, then abruptly stopping. He wants you so badly….but he’s trying to savor the moment. “Let me look at you for a second.”

He takes you in, the stockings you’re wearing and the matching set of black lace you’d picked out beforehand. Of course, you’d thought about this. You always did for occasions like this, but Joel had stumped you. What would he like? This….was pretty understated, but he seemed like a salt-of-the earth guy. Not what you were used to. It probably wouldn’t make a difference whether or not you were in full-on lingerie. And even if you knew he wouldn’t care, you still had wanted to impress him. All the more reason to try.

“This for me?” he asks, hooking his finger on the inside of your stockings and snapping the elastic. 

“Yeah,” you nod, honest. “I want you, Joel.” And there’s more to it, too. You’ve thought about just how badly for months. It kept you up at night, then helped you fall asleep when you couldn’t shake his image from your head. For now, you are going to keep that to yourself. But it doesn’t mean it’s not gonna slip out. Not when he’s looking at you like this. 

“Yeah?” he says, steps forward, towers over you. “I want you, too, so fuckin’ bad. So fucking pretty, baby,” Dropping back to your elbows, you feel…small. Any other time, you might sit up, try to feel some kind of control, but for whatever reason, you stay where you are.

Joel wasn’t exaggerating when he said he wanted to take his time. It’s frustrating. It’s torture. He worships you, makes sure his mouth is on nearly every part of your body before he finishes undressing you. Your ankles hook over his shoulders, his hands grazing, dragging thin nylon up and off each leg. He kisses your calves, the inside of your knees, your thighs. He uses one hand to unhook your bra and pulls it away. He spends what feels like hours with his mouth on your breasts – sucking, licking, nipping – hands cupping, grabbing, pinning you down. The whole time, he’s telling you how badly he wants you, how pretty you are, how good you’re being for him. He’s either touching you too much, or maybe not enough. It’s hard to say. Only after he’s reduced you to an incoherent, whimpering mess do you somehow find the strength to fight back. 

By this point, you’re lying in the middle of the bed, your leg hooked over his hip, the waistband of his jeans digging into bare skin. He’s still got all his fucking clothes on, which makes everything so much worse, because it’s clear whose in control here, and it’s certainly not you. 

The button of his flannel is where you start, and then you work downward. Joel doesn’t stop you at any point. You think he might, just because of how things have been going. But he’s as easy as you are, and you take him in all the same after you’ve shucked off his jeans, and he’s closer to your state of buff.

To be fair, you’ve spent enough time lingering by the windows – when he’s outside mowing the lawn shirtless, or picking up his newspaper in the morning, or doing workouts in his garage with the door open (such a tease!) – to have an idea of what to expect. He’s not ripped by any means but neither are you – and you’ve never liked that anyways. But it’s not hard to ascertain that he spends all day in the sun, lifting and hauling things around. His muscles are defined, rippling lightly under his skin with each panting breath he takes. Joel’s a spectacle – broad and tan, a line of dark hair dipping from his belly-button down into the waistband of his dark-gray briefs. You can make out the way his cock is straining against the fabric.

Once you’ve appraised him as best as you can – you can see that he’s studying you, almost like he’s anxious, like you might not like what you see. As if he doesn’t know. Ridiculous. You aren’t going to leave him guessing. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Joel,” you shake your head. “You’re a fucking stud.”

Joel’s face breaks out in a grin and he yanks you back so you’re on top of him, legs on either side of his chest. And finally, finally, you can touch him like you’ve been wanting. His skin is warm – it’s kind of hot in your room, you’d forgotten to turn on the A/C, so you’re both a little sweaty. But and it’s unclear if it’s because of the heat or just how worked up you are. It doesn’t matter, because it only turns you on even more. You trace the broad plane of his chest, hand snaking down…all the way to his boxers, but he stops you. 

He’d let you undress him, allowed it, but this…it crosses a line. Joel hooks his hands behind your thighs and begins to drag you up, up, up, while he shifts lower. It takes a second to register what he’s doing, and when it does, you try to stop it.

“Joel, wait I-” 

“I have to taste you darlin’, that okay?” His dark hair is fanned out around his head, resting on your floral pillowcase. In the dim light, his pupils are so blown out you can barely see anything else except black. “I’ll give you whatever you want, but you’ve gotta let me taste you first.”

It’s not that you don’t want it, but he’s taken you off guard, and you’re already overwhelmed by how intimate all this has been, gentle and languid while he whispers honeyed words into your ear. His mind seems already made up, and you don’t really want to tell him no.

“Alright,” you manage, and you grip the top of the headboard. 

It’s embarrassing how wet you already are. It started with his hand on your knee in the car, and you have spent the last hour clenching around nothing, squeezing your legs together and searching for friction. Anything. Well, you are about to get it.

Joel’s lips press to the insides of your thighs, once more, dangerously close to where you’re weeping for him. His nose bumps your clit when he turns his head, and you whine – hips sinking to seek the contact that he’s been denying you, and then immediately pulling back in a moment of clarity.

“No, no,” Joel’s hands immediately land on your hips to hold you in place, bringing you lower. “Stay right there for me.”

You don’t dare move. 

Finally, his mouth finds you. You think he might tease for a little bit, go slow, because he’s been doing that all night, and it’s become infuriating. But he doesn’t. He eats you out, laves at you. A hot, velvet tongue that works up a steady rhythm. It’s interrupted only by the vibration of his moans every so often, which only add to the pleasure. For a moment, you miss how he’d been talking to you before, but you’re so sensitive, so eager, that you think you’ll sacrifice anything if it means he’s not going to stop. Joel keeps you still with a bruising grip on your hips. All you can do is let him have his way and whimper his name over and over, listen to him groan in response. 

Being consistent is key for you. And Joel is nothing but. Practiced, but feral….like he’s been holding back all night. It’s been a long time, or maybe he’s just that excited, it’s hard to tell. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Can’t bring yourself to care about much more than him, the man below you working you over with just his mouth. 

“I’m…Joel, I’m-” you try to pull off again, it’s too much, but he doesn’t allow it. Even if the position he’s in is compromising, he’s managed to find a way to assert himself. The coil inside you has wound so tightly that almost every muscle in your body is tense. Now, can’t even move, not even if you wanted to, and he keeps going, your words have only made him more determined.

The coil snaps. You cry out, using the headboard to stifle your noises – not worried that it will probably leave a mark. If you get nothing else from Joel, then at least it will serve as a reminder that he was here, beneath you, lapping up everything you have to give him. The orgasm leaves you weak, trembling, but he holds you up, works you through it until the waves begin to cease, and then you’re so overstimulated, so sensitive that you start to feel lightheaded. “Fuck, Joel, I can’t-” You tug on his hair, hope he’ll get the hint and release you, but he doesn’t. If anything, it only spurs him on.

His mouth is white hot on you, his tongue damp, firm as it circles your clit and drags downward. He gives you nowhere to go, no opportunity to come down from the high, so within minutes, or seconds – at this point, you’ve lost track of time – he’s worked you up to the precipice of release, and you’re coming again, crying out to him.

At last, he eases off, lets you relax. You do, carefully, and so does he, gradually removing his mouth from you while your hand untangles from his dark curls. Joel holds you steady as he sits back against the headboard, keeping you splayed across his lap. You don’t waste your time saying something stupid like “you didn’t have to do that,” because you’re not gonna pretend you didn’t love every second, but mostly because you’re not sure you’re capable of speaking just yet. His hand catches your jaw, and he looks at you – innocently, like he hadn’t just done what he had done, like his fucking beard, and chin, and lips weren’t still wet with you. But the ornery glint in his eyes gives him away. “You liked that?” he has the audacity to ask. 

A shaky hand comes to pinch your eyebrows as you let out a weak laugh, nodding. “Yeah, Joel….yeah.”

“Good,” he answers. 

“I was right about you,” you manage. 

“Yeah?” He murmurs, and his hand skates up your arm, the other settling on your waist. It’s grounding, reassuring as your heart attempts to steady its beating. 

“You’re trouble.” 

“Yeah,” Joel murmurs, and he leans in close. “Only for you, pretty girl.” 

Your hips jolt back at the term of endearment, so much so that you feel the length of his cock, hard against your ass. It’s your turn to take care of him, but it shouldn’t be difficult, because your arousal is already building again. It’ll be much, much, easier to come again, specifically around him. Plus, right now, you are willing to do just about anything for him. You kiss him, and it’s sloppy, lick the taste of yourself out of his mouth. Heat curls again in the pit of your stomach, and you grind yourself down on him through his underwear.

Joel’s head falls back, bonks the headboard, and the thud of impact is overshadowed by his agonized moan. You reach down between your bodies, let your touch land over his clothed cock. He pants out your name. So many things you could do – with only your hand, or your mouth, but before you can decide, he speaks again.

“Wanna be inside you,” he grits out. “So fucking bad.” 

“You don’t want me to-”

“No,” he cuts you off. “No, no. I need you.”

“You can have me,” you nod, leaning forward to kiss his neck, pushing down the elastic of his underwear. Joel lets you, his hips stuttering, until he freezes. “Shit.” He reaches out to halt your movements.

You look up, his eyes are wide. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry, I uh, I left my wallet in the car,” Joel’s voice is pinched, palms leaving your body to press against his eyes, frustrated. “I brought condoms, but they’re - I’ll have to go get them.”

“I have some,” you pipe up, nodding towards your bedside table. Joel reaches for it, but it's your turn to stop him. “But I mean, I’m clean,” you say. “...And I have an IUD, so…” 

Joel pauses, stares at you under thick lashes. “You sure that…” So tentative. “....That’s okay with you?” 

You feel yourself smirk a little as you look at him. It’s not something you’d allow anyone to do. But you’re feeling a little lost in the moment. The part of your brain that usually tells you to run for the hills whenever things get too real has turned off. It’s not the first time he’s caused that, and you sort of enjoy the delusion. There’s no question. It’s Joel.  “Oh, yeah.”

The words ignite something in him that you weren’t entirely prepared for, and he’s pulling you hard against his mouth with one hand, while the other pushes his briefs down the rest of the way. You don’t get the chance to see him, to feel him, before he’s lining himself up with your slick cunt. 

It’s a soft glide of sensitive skin across sensitive skin, and you shake with anticipation. You don’t even know you have your eyes closed, focusing on the sensation, until you hear Joel’s voice. 

“Open your eyes,” he commands. “Please just-” he swallows hard. “I wanna watch you. So fucking pretty.” 

You obey, and he guides your hand to replace your own. It’s not until your hand wraps around him that you’re aware of just how thick his cock is, throbbing and leaking, and it makes you all the more eager. Slowly, you start to sink down, but it’s too challenging to take him all at once. So first, just the tip, you roll back to ease the sting, then gradually sink lower and low. 

Joel moves closer to you, holding his breath, guiding you along, propped back against the pillows. “That’s it, so fucking good, baby…”

You understand why he was moving so languidly earlier. This is meant to be enjoyed. After some time, and lots of praise, your hips settle flush with his own, and he’s seated fully inside of you. It’s a delicious stretch that your body isn’t fully ready to accommodate, but it has your toes curling and mouth hanging open, bearing down on him involuntarily. Under Joel’s watchful gaze you feel terribly, terribly exposed. 

“Keep going,” Joel encourages. So you move. It’s experimental at first, small ruts against him, getting used to the way it feels. It doesn’t take you long to find the spot that makes you abandon eye contact, throw your head back, and –

“Oh, Joel.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and he sounds strained, pinched – he’s holding back, but still enjoying every second. “That feel good?”

You nod furiously. He lets you find a rhythm that works for you, lets you take your time, and once you do, he starts to match your pace. His hands don’t stay in one place for very long. First, they’re resting gently on your ass. Then they’re cupping your tits, watching them bounce as they sway with your movements. He brings his knees up behind you, pressing his feet into the bed, and uses the leverage to fuck himself deeper each time you lower yourself onto him. 

At this point, you’re unaware of what types of noises you must be making, and you’re thankful that you’re alone so you can be as loud as you want. His cock is hitting places inside you that you didn’t know existed, and rolling across the same spot over and over and over. 

“You feel so perfect for me,” Joel says, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling. “So, so good, baby, so fucking pretty.” 

“Mm-hmm,” is all you can answer, nodding furiously and feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with every thrust. 

You’re too easy for him. And you were too worked up to begin with. “Joel, I can’t-”

He slams his hips up into yours so hard you cut yourself off with a choked gasp. Then he does it again. “You gonna come for me?” he asks. “I can feel you, baby, I know it’s close.” 

“Y-yeah,” he’s got you stammering on your words. You’re clamping down onto him so tightly it hurts. But you’re so desperate to come, to feel what it’ll do to him, that you don’t stop.

“Come here,” he murmurs, hands around your waist, pulling you down so your lips are nearly touching. “Stay close to me.”

“Oh, fuck, oh-” The warmth of his body so close to yours, your hands bracing themselves on his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, all coupled with one vicious rut of his hips has you right there. Joel tilts your head back just enough so you’re forced to look directly at him – and then you come undone. 

You want to close your eyes, turn your head, but you’ve got nowhere to go, and he’s right in front of you. Joel’s touch slides up your back, draws you even closer, and you ride out your third orgasm of the night while pressed entirely against his chest, forced to be vulnerable in a way you’ve never been with anyone before. “So good, baby, so good. Such a good fuckin’ girl for me,” he praises you through it, works you through it, until you’re all but melted in his arms, and he still hasn’t pulled his eyes away.

Utterly spent, you know, distantly, somewhere, that he has to come. However, Joel takes over, flips you both so you’re underneath him, and presses himself deep into the cradle of your pelvis. He’s heavy on top of you, but the weight is somehow soothing.

“I thought about you,” you murmur, hoping it’ll help. His jaw is set, solely focused on his own release. “How good you’d feel.”

“Fuck, really?” he grunts. “I-I- did too.”

“Yeah?” you ask, feeling flush at the admission. “I thought about….letting y-you use me.”

Joel groans your name, curses loudly, ruts into you even harder. You can feel him throbbing, so fucking close, and you arch yourself up to meet him, pleasure already building again, even though you thought it wasn’t possible. 

“It’s so much better, Joel, you’re so much better–” 

Than I imagined. But you don’t have to finish the thought. The idea of you, thinking of him, seems to be enough as it is, and you feel him pulsing, warmth blooming and spreading out as he groans, throws his head back and spills himself impossibly deep inside you. If you weren’t utterly spent, the feeling of him coming – and nothing between you, probably would have set you off again. For now, it’s enough.

His whole body goes limp as he relaxes his arms from where they’re braced on either side of you, his head falling into the crook of your neck. You hear him take a few, haggard breaths once it’s over, and then a deep chuckle vibrates in your ear. “Fuck, baby.”

You rub his shoulder lightly to soothe him, and his lips find the underside of your jaw, kissing lightly his beard scratching your cheeks. For an undetermined amount of time, he remains there. Normally, you’d probably check his watch, but you’ve noticed that the one he always wears is broken, and really….you feel content.

Finally, Joel pulls away, cursing under his breath and withdrawing from you. He runs his hand through his hair, and flops on his back by your side, and you feel horribly empty. After he’s cupped your cheek, turning you gently to look at him – he gives you a tender, affectionate smile. 

It hits you like a freight train. 

He was not the type of man you dated. The men you dated liked to slap, choke, withhold. That had always been what you’d gotten off to. The more frenzied, the more impersonal – the better. That wasn’t to say Joel hadn’t been passionate. But you’d never experienced anything like this before.

You tear away from his gaze, focus on the ceiling. Heart pounding, threatening to break through your ribs, you feel your mouth dry up, your eyes burn and fuck – you’re about to cry. Try to turn yourself away from him, but he sees it. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just uh-” your voice catches on the lump forming in the back of your throat and cracks audibly, raw. 

“Hey– ” you hear the mattress shift, he’s moving closer, and you start to scramble. You’ve gotta leave. Get to the bathroom, compose yourself. “Where are you goin?”

“Joel, I just need to-” but his hand circles your wrist, and you don’t have the power to resist him. The bones of his hand press firmly in your cheek, turning your head so you have to look at him. There are tears in your eyes.  

“What’s wrong, baby? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Up close you can see that his eyes aren’t brown – they’re hazel. Mesmerizing, long lashes – gold and green rimming his irises. How had you not noticed that before? 

“No, no not at all it was just…” you’re talking so fast, not even sure where you’re going with the sentence. “I’m sorry, I liked it I just-I don’t know,” you stutter. Shaking your head, you cover your face. You don’t want to feel this way with him here. “I’m not used to-” 

Joel, who has never seen you at a loss for words, frowns, draws you against him. “Come here.”

“It’s okay,” he lets you press your face just below his jaw. He’s being so soft, it makes everything that much worse. Tears slip down your cheeks, landing on his skin. He strokes your hair, holds you so tightly, firmly, "It was intense, huh?” 

You want to resent the way he’s speaking to you – like you’re a child who fell off her bike and skinned her knee, and not a grown ass woman realizing how disconnected she’s felt with every other partner until now. But unfortunately, it’s kind of working. You murmur an affirmation in response. ”I’ve got you, it’s okay,” he promises. 

He holds you until the tide of emotion swells, settles, lips against your temple, his fingertips tracing up and down your spine, and gives you the time to compose yourself.

“That was really nice, I promise,” you say, eventually. And then, because he’s been so gracious, you’re honest. “It’s just been…a long time…” Forever, really. “Since I felt…”

“I know,” Joel nods. “Me too. It’s alright.” 

“Yeah,” you bob your head. He holds your face reverently, and pulls you in for a chaste kiss before tucking you back against his chest. You close your eyes, nestle against him. He strokes your hair while you listen to the steady beat of his heart.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next thing you know, you’re being gently shaken awake. Somehow, you’d fallen asleep. 

“Hey, baby,” Joel murmurs softly. 

“Mmm?” you groan in response, exhaustion clinging to your limbs. 

“I’m sorry, I gotta get going.” 

You scoff into his neck and make a noise of protest, still not entirely roused, he’d woken you too delicately. When he speaks, his lips brush against your forehead, hands still tracing up and down the lines of your body and making you shiver. “I told Sarah and Tommy I’d be home by midnight.”

“Right,” you mutter, finding the strength to push yourself off of him and stretch. Joel sits up, very tentatively releasing you from his grip. 

“I’m sorry I had to wake you, I can see myself out.”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “No, please. Do you need anything?”

“Can I use your bathroom?” 

“Of course,” you point towards the ensuite. 

Joel collects his discarded clothes off the bed, then the floor, and disappears. You hear the sink running, watch the shuffling shadows he casts in the crack below the door. While he’s doing that, you slip into your robe and run your fingers through your hair, taking in the disheveled state of your bed, before deciding to clean up in the extra bathroom down the hall.

On your way back, you run into Joel, who looks better than ever, tanned skin glowing, a soft smile on his face. “Hey,” he says. 

“Hey.” 

“This was nice. I had a really good time.” 

“Me too.”

“Will you…” he trails off, rubs his jaw. “Will you be okay? I don’t want to-”

“I’m fine,” you say, dismissively. “I just had a moment.”

“You sure?”

“Of course.” Joel studies you carefully, and you’re prompted to continue. “I promise. Joel. This was nice.”

“It was,” he grins. “I’d like to see you again.” 

“Me too,” you don’t even think before you answer, despite everything. It surprises you, how willing you suddenly are.

“Good.” He kisses you, slow and lingering. “I’ll give you a call.” 

“Okay.”

-

part vi

taglist: @yaskna@venomous-ko@lomljigg@yeehawbitchs@ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done@melancholicmelanin@reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer@superflymaterial@mikkorantanev@zbeez-outlet @nadja-antipaxos @strawberri-blonde @jabbajambler @ponyboys-sunsets @kyuupidwrites @r4efromvenus @loveatfirstsight-atlastsight @korianderbandit @nicoleoeoeoe @hotgirlsshareaccounts @madisonred88 @crustyrustydusty @sflame15-blog @issybee0611 @darkemeralddiamond @grandmana @totallynotastanacc @ay0nha @virgogaia @lunarxeclipse @marysucks-blog @jabbajambler @surazim @naiomiwinchester @raindrcpsangel @dorotheapascal @mythical-mushrooms13 @chernayawidow

[ereawrites]

SHISUISHISUISHISUISHISUI CHOO-CHOO. I’m on the train for this man. 😩😩 I honestly don’t even know what to ask. I just—EVERYTHING SHISUI. I’m down bad and it’s RIDICULOUS. Just throw out some wild ass hc for this man. Idk. Maybe some post fight adrenaline hawt ass f*cking. 😭😭🥵

UNDER THE CUT FOR HORNY JAIL

I don't think a fight will get shisui going per se. after a battle he just wants to rest and recuperate. but sparring?! he's so into it

he probably lowkey treats training together as a kind of flirty foreplay, ESPECIALLY if they aren't together yet/haven't confessed their feelings to each other, but he knows there's a mutual attraction. it gets him so worked up to be close to them like that

that's not to say that he won't still give the sparring his all. because he will. shisui doesn't half-ass training, and he doesn't want them to either. he finds it really attractive to see them focused, and tbh if they're able to keep up with him or even beat his ass a little bit... he likes it a lot

let's say they're pretty evenly matched, so they've spent a while battling, and they've ended up resorting to good old-fashioned taijutsu now that they're exhausted. they're both sweaty and panting and end up grappling on the floor. shisui somehow manages to get the upper hand and pin them on their back

he's feeling pretty bold from the adrenaline and the physical contact, so he leans down to their ear to make some kind of quip. and honestly if he knows they're into him, and there's no one around, he kisses them. he can't help himself when they look kind of dishevelled, it gets to him

it's going to turn into a heated make-out session pretty quick. he also gets a boner embarrassingly fast lol. he accidentally starts grinding onto their thigh which has him kinda sheepish, but if they're just as into it as him, neither of them are really going to care. he just laughs it off and starts kissing their neck. and he BITES the neck too

okay as much as shisui lowkey gets off on public/risky sex - and he is really tempted to just fuck them right there - he's not insane. after a few minutes he's going to pull them over behind the treeline to continue. it's honestly pretty cute, how they kind of fumble their way over to the trees, still kissing and laughing

by this point, he's probably too into it to bother fully undressing them. he's going to move what clothing needs to be moved, pick them up under the thighs and press their back against the tree trunk, and go at it

manages to keep enough sense about him to bury his face into their neck to bury his moans. and WOW does this boy moan when he's in one of these moods. it's so good. towards the end, as he gets louder, he has to bite down on their shoulder to cover the sounds. they're going to be covered in marks whoops

fucks deep when he's like this. specifically likes to do the thing where he rolls his hips. his thrusts are kinda sloppy but in a good way

between the adrenaline of sparring and the risk of being caught, neither of them are going to last long. he definitely covers their mouth when they cum, but he wants them to keep eye contact with him during it. he might beg for it actually if he's really worked up

very chill afterwards. laughs and apologises for getting so feral. he does feel bad for not being a gentleman, especially if it's their first time together. he's not too embarrassed, it was a good fuck so he's happy lol. but he's definitely going to try to make sure that the next time is more special

[hawkinsmethlab]

Dustin is quiet on the ride to his house.

Unusual, but nothing unheard of, especially when he’s thinking hard about something. From what Steve had been able to pick up before he’d dropped off Mike and Lucas, there’s a lot going on in the Dumpsters and Dangers department.

Steve is half-tempted to ask him about it, even though he won’t understand a single word, just to see Dustin get excited about something. Not that he’d ever admit it to the kid’s face, but he’s missed him a bit. Ever since he started up Hellfire it’s been “Eddie this” and “Eddie that.” Give him a break.

But, it’s a bad listening day, and Steve’s really just trying to hear the commercial on the radio over the sharp ringing in his right ear. It’s one that plays a million times a day and he knows it by heart at this point, but that kind of makes it worse. Just means he knows when he’s missing a word or a sound effect.

But it’s fine. He’s handling it. The constant ringing used to make him feel like he was going insane, especially on bad days like this where it’s like a physical presence in his head that leaves him feeling lopsided, like the Upside Down itself is pulling on him. Coming and going in piercing waves that block out any other noise, no matter how loud or how close.

Robin thinks it’s a problem.

“I’m dealing with it,” he’d told her, both of them on her bed with her history textbook in his lap. She had a test on Monday and sure, Steve wasn’t the best student, but he’d helped Nancy study a million times.

“Sure,” Robin said. “Except that you aren’t. You’re avoiding it, and those are two very different things. Do I need to pull out my dictionary and beat you over the head with it?”

“Which one, you have like, seven in here.”

“Maybe we can try them all just to see what sticks.” Then, she’d folded herself over the edge of her bed to rummage around in her bag. “But also, I was just thinking, maybe we could give this a try?”

She handed him a folded up piece of paper, biting her lip. Steve took it, skeptical, and unfolded it to see a poster for the Bloomington community center that read American Sign Language Lessons.

At Steve’s extended silence of like, a second, she continued, “I thought we could do it together. For fun. Really up our trash talk game.”

Steve had just stared at it, dread settling low in his stomach like a sack of rocks. He dropped the poster on the bed. “Thanks, but neither of us are deaf. We don’t need it.”

She’d sighed. “Steve--”

“‘In which battle was Napoleon defeated?’”

“Waterloo, easy, but listen to me. ASL isn’t just for deaf people. Besides, you don’t have to wait until you can’t hear anything at all to start learning. I mean, you could, that’s the whole point of the language, but I don’t think you would handle it very well.”

“Rude.”

“I’m just saying.” She rolled her eyes. “Maybe we could even get some of the kids into it. I bet Dustin would--”

“No, Robin.” It came out a bit more harsh than he’d meant it, a little scared and he hated that. He crossed his arms just in case his hands decided to start shaking. “Just. Can we drop it?”

Robin, being Robin and he loved her for it but Jesus, leaned forward on her elbows. Steve raised his legs a little to hide the textbook. He wouldn’t put it past her to use this as some kind of con to cheat. Not that she needed to, she’s a genius.

“Steve,” she said, “you can’t just not tell them forever. Eventually, one of them is going to figure it out, and I don’t know about you, but I’d rather tell somebody something like that on my own terms.”

“I’m not not telling them,” he insisted. “It just hasn’t come up.”

“In five months? Or no, you said Billy is when it got really bad and that was a year ago. There hasn’t been a single moment in all that time where someone hasn’t noticed something different?”

Sure they had. A few different times. But, he’d always been kind of air headed and spacey, even before his concussions so it was easy enough for them to just brush it off as Steve being Steve. “I thought I was here to help you study.”

Robin looked at him like he was one of her crossword puzzles. “I’m just trying to understand why you told me and no one else. That’s all.”

“That’s...different.”

What did she want him to say? That to tell her had been one of the scariest moments of his life, had made him miss the demodog-infested tunnels, had made him feel like he needed a bat in his hands? That saying it, any of it, out loud had left him feeling like he needed to hurl? That the thought of telling anyone else who wasn’t her, as wild as that was for someone he’d met six and a half months ago, left him on the edge of a fucking panic attack?

Yeah, sure, he’d get right on that.

Robin stared at him a little longer before she leaned back, the fight gone. “Fine.” She reached over and grabbed the poster, folded it back up and put it back in her bag. “Just promise me you’ll give it some thought? Even just a little?”

“Scout’s honor.” He held up his hand.

“You were never a scout. And that’s the wrong hand.”

“I went to summer camp that one time!”

“That’s not the boy scouts, Steve!”

It’s been three days since then, and as much as he would like to forget about the whole thing, he’s been kind of agonizing over it. Over what Robin had said, about them figuring it out on their own. Would that be better? Worse?

Either option leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Makes him want to dig Billy up from his grave just to put him back in it. Him and those fucking Russians.

There’s a slap on his arm. “Steve!” Dustin’s glaring at him. “Jesus, finally. You just passed my house.”

Oh. Whoops. “My bad.” He pulls into a random driveway to turn around. “Don’t have to shout, man, car’s only so big.”

“I said your name like six times.”

Steve sighs and wishes for about the millionth time that his tinny-whatever-Owens-had-called-it had a dial so he could turn it down. Or off, really, that’d be great. “Sorry, I guess I’m a little distracted. Some--work thing that Keith’s on my ass about.”

He pulls up in front of Dustin’s house and debates getting out. On any other day he’d be happy to walk him to the door and talk to Mrs. Henderson, but that usually leads to her inviting (or ordering) him to stay for dinner, and while his stomach is more than on board for whatever she’s whipped up, his head has the louder argument.

“Alright, man,” he says and cuts off the radio. “I’ll see you later.”

Dustin doesn’t move. He’s got his backpack on his lap and a loose grip on the door handle, but that’s it. He almost looks...nervous?

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Dustin nervous before.

“What’s up?” Steve asks. “Your mom pissed at you or something?”

Dustin scoffs. “Please, I’m an angel.”

“Only in her eyes. Come on, what’s bugging you? Something one of the guys said? A kid at school? Some sort of mathematical nerd thing that’s got you stumped?” He gasps. “It’s not Suzie, is it, I swear to god--”

Dustin looks almost scandalized at that. “No. What? No. Nothing like that. I’m just--” He’s suddenly back to nervous. He starts picking at the zipper on his backpack, takes his hand off the door. “I’m just not sure how to--”

After a few more seconds of stuttering silence, Steve rolls his eyes. “Dustin, just spit it out. Whatever it is, you can talk to me. I mean, I can’t promise how helpful talking to me will be, with all the stuff you guys get up to but hey, I can at least try, right?”

Dustin sighs and turns in his seat to face Steve more fully. He seems to steel himself before saying, “Okay. I just want to say, before we move forward, that I’m not mad.”

Oh. Not exactly what he was expecting. “...Okay? I’m not either.”

“And I still think you’re cool or whatever, and we’ll still be friends no matter what.”

Steve nods, completely lost. “Right.”

“Because society can say whatever the fuck it wants!” Dustin is yelling suddenly. “And they can go on and on about the bible and whatever the hell Reagan is talking about, but you’re my friend, dammit! You’re my friend!”

“Whoa, Dustin!” Steve raises his hands, both to calm him down and maybe to protect himself a little. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Dustin takes a deep breath. “I’m talking about how you’re--” He looks around, as if they weren’t alone in the car, then whispers, “About how you’re gay.”

Steve blinks, slowly. There was no way he heard that right. Right? “You think I’m what?”

“I know,” Dustin says. He puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder in what he assumes is supposed to be comforting. “I know that you’re gay and I just want to tell you that it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Steve leans back and stares at him. Dustin leans with him, keeping his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m not gay.”

“You don’t have to hide from me anymore,” he says. “I love you, you’re my friend, one of my best friends, and nothing is gonna change that.”

“Well, that’s great and I appreciate it, but I’m still not gay.”

“Yes.” Dustin nods solemnly. “You are.”

Steve laughs. A short one, like a gunshot, and pinches the bridge of his nose. When Robin had told him about people drawing their own conclusions, she probably hadn’t imagined something like this. God, he can’t ever tell her about this. “Oh my god. Okay. What, uh, what gave me away?”

“Well, really, you shouldn’t feel too bad. I don’t think anyone else has noticed.”

“Hmm.”

“But you’ve just been kind of out of it lately. Distracted more, like right now, driving me home, or when we watch movies. Don’t think I didn’t see you staring at Harrison Ford. Raiders of the Lost Ark and Star Wars, dude.”

“Now hold on, that’s not--”

“And then, back at Thanksgiving, when my mom was telling you that story about me and Suzie and you just looked so uncomfortable--”

Because Steve hadn’t had a single clue what she was talking about.

“--plus, I’ve seen the way you look at Eddie so--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait.” Steve scoffs. “How I look at Munson? The Freak.”

“Well, yeah, it’s like you’re being tortured or something.” He shrugs. “It’s kind of romantic, honestly.”

Jesus Christ. “Okay. Wow.” This is worse than every Upside Down encounter combined. “Dustin, I will repeat: I am not gay. There’s an explanation for all of those things, but it doesn’t involve my sexuality in any way. Got it?”

Dustin raises an eyebrow, totally not believing him. Finally, he leans back. Crosses his arms. “Alright then, I’m listening.”

Whenever he did let himself picture how telling one of the kids would go, this hadn’t been what he’d imagined. But really, this has already gone so terribly, so how could it possibly get worse?

(Dustin could look at him like he’s broken, like he doesn’t recognize him, could tell him that he doesn’t trust Steve to watch his back, could start treating him differently or avoiding him, he’s already hanging out with Munson more, why not just abandon him altogether--)

“Alright.” He runs a hand through his hair before settling it on the bottom of the wheel, gripping it so tight his knuckles go sheet white. “So. Yeah, I’ve been distracted and not...listening as well.”

“Because you’ve been thinking about--”

“Nope!” Steve closes his eyes. Deep breaths and quick prayer to not kill a child. “It’s because I literally can’t listen as well as I used to. I--I have hearing loss.”

His second time saying it out loud to another person and it’s met with a similar kind of gut-turning silence. Steve watches Dustin’s face go through several rapid changes before settling on something confused, his mouth slightly open and his eyebrows low.

“Oh.”

Then he looks mad.

“You have what? Dude!” He starts slapping Steve across his arm. “Since when?”

“Since--Jesus, man, stop! Since the mall fire, okay?”

Dustin freezes and Steve does too, the guilt like ice in his chest. He looks at Dustin and knows he’s thinking about the elevator and the bunker and the sizzling of human flesh under a fucked up cattle prod. It had been a tough summer for all of them, but Steve won’t ever be able to forget how Dustin had sat next to him in his car, just like this, trembling when he told Steve about how he was having nightmares. About how he thinks he might have killed that guy, and what did that make him?

A hero, Steve had told him. You saved our lives.

“If I hadn’t--” Dustin starts.

“Cutting you off there, Henderson. This,” Steve waves a hand around his face, “is not your problem. Okay? It has nothing to do with you.”

Dustin looks so small then, so lost, and Steve feels his heart twist. He reaches over and ruffles his hair. “It’ll be okay. I can still hear out of my right ear, so I’ve got that going for me.”

Dustin frowns. “Does anyone else know?”

“Only you and Robin. I just...haven’t found the right time.”

“The right time being when? It’s been months. If we’d known, we could have helped you.”

Just like with Robin, he doesn’t have a good answer. Doesn’t really have any answer, and doesn’t know when he will. “I’ll get around to it. Sometime. But,” he locks eyes with Dustin, “you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone until I’m ready.”

“Steve--”

“Promise me, Dustin.” He stares him down. “I’m dead serious.”

Dustin sighs, but nods. “Alright.”

“On your mom’s life?”

Dustin recoils. “Dude, you’re bringing my mom into this?” Then, “Alright, fine, I swear on my mother’s life. Cross my heart and hope to die and all that shit, I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thanks.” Steve claps him on the shoulder. “Now get out.”

“Does Robin know you’re gay?”

“What?” Robin can never know about this conversation. “Dude, no, I’m not gay!”

“So you are dating Robin.”

“I’m not dating anyone! Definitely not Robin, and I don’t have any kind of crush on Munson or anyone else!”

“But I swear, the way you look at him--”

“I hate his guts, now get out or I’ll hold your hat hostage.”

With a proper amount of grumbling, Dustin manhandles his backpack and steps out. He goes to shut the door, but pauses. “You know, you saved my life too. I’ve got your back no matter what. Okay?”

His eyes sting, so he itches his nose. Clears his throat to make sure it won’t crack when he says, “Yeah, Dustin, I know. You too.”

The next second he’s gone and Steve, alone in his car, is left to think that maybe...ASL lessons might not be so bad.

[yjhariani]

Insanity

Simon 'Ghost' Riley X GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.7k Summary: You spent a day scrambling your brain with research papers. [Shoutout to whoever is in need to deal with such a thing].

A/N: Dedicated to @alnautic for this post that got me inspired to write this one. Also, pardon my hopeless romantic ass for making Simon reciting more poetry.

All day, there was nothing else you did. You had been moving from one corner of the flat to another, all with your laptop in your hands. There were multiple tabs of research papers opened on the screen.

At one point, Simon found you slouching on a chair. He walked up behind you, resting his forearms on the back of the chair and pecked you on the cheek.

“Those are a lotta words, love,” Simon commented.

“I know,” you exhaled. “Half of them start to lose their meaning and I’m almost not sure what I’m reading about.”

“Maybe you should take a break,” Simon suggested.

“This is me taking a break,” you replied.

Simon lifted you and fixed your position on the chair. He put his hands on your shoulders and started massaging them.

“How ‘bout you tell me about half of those words that still have meaning?” Simon asked.

You started explaining to him what you understood of the research paper that you read so far. It was quite an attempt since all you could focus on was his hands massaging your shoulders and how good it felt. He eventually moved to massage your neck and soon after that, he rubbed your temples with his thumbs.

Simon was tempted to take your computer away and forced you to take a proper break. However, he understood that you needed to do this and the least he could do was to take care of you while you were scrambling your brain with these pages.

As you were explaining it to him, a little more complicated than you wanted, you finally grasped a little more of what you had been reading.

“Oh, that makes sense, right?” you asked at the end of your explanation and repeated it in a simpler way. “That’s what I’m trying to understand.”

“Yeah,” Simon said before pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Let me know if you need anything else, yeah?”

“Thank you, Simon,” you replied.

With that, you dwelled back into the research. 

Not long after his leave, Simon returned with your favourite hot beverage in your favourite mug. He said nothing and only put the mug on the table. He returned your gratitude with a brief smile.

That happened one more time, at least, when he delivered you lunch and a lot of drinking water.

A while later, Simon was about to turn on his console to play something when he found you on the sofa across it, still with your computer in your hands. Simon prepared his console before sitting himself on the sofa next to you.

“Hey, c’mere,” Simon patted his lap with one hand whilst the other held a controller.

You only looked at him after a few seconds of still looking at your computer screen. Simon redid the gesture of patting his lap.

With that, you moved yourself to sit on his lap with your back intended to rest against his chest.

“No, turn around,” Simon requested.

So, you put the laptop aside for a moment as you climbed onto his lap, straddling him.

“Pause for a few minutes, play something with me,” Simon said.

“I’m almost done. I think,” you replied, hand reaching towards your laptop.

With your arms around his chest and meeting your laptop behind him, you rested your chin on his shoulder.

“This can’t be comfortable for you,” Simon said.

“You’re like a big pillow,” you reasoned.

You felt Simon lightly shaking his head before he got into his game. 

About half an hour later you ended up putting your laptop aside and buried your face on the crook of Simon’s neck. Simon soon put his controller down and rubbed a hand up and down your back.

“You alright, love?” Simon asked.

“I keep reading that page—that paragraph over and over again and I can’t understand a single word,” you sighed.

“Sounds like the insanity Einstein was talking about,” Simon said. “Maybe you’ve had enough for the day. Turn the bloody thing off and do something else, get lazy perhaps.”

“Maybe I should,” you said. "I really need to get it done, though, preferably tonight."

“You are good when you walk to your goal firmly and with bold steps. Yet you are not evil when you go thither limping. Even those who limp do not go backwards. But you who are strong and swift, see that you do not limp before the lame, deeming it kindness. Which you are, love,” Simon recited. “Just take it easy.”

Simon moved your laptop onto the nearest table before leaning back and wrapped his arms around you. After a moment or two, he picked you up and moved you to your bedroom and laid you down on the bed with him still attached to you.

Once you were both comfortable, Simon draped his limbs over you to make sure that you would not be going anywhere. He tucked you under his chin and left a kiss on your forehead. In the end, you buried your smile in his chest.

[winepresswrath]

I do gotta say tho, even tho I’m mad at aziraphale because he’s being a terrible boyfriend like what you said about the “I forgive you like” because WHAT. But also I really like the way the show really demonstrates the underlying cruelty of heaven and it’s angels. Really shows the hypocrisy of a group of beings who are supposed to do good, especially aziraphale who really buys into the heaven propaganda, who hurts people, particularly the person who means the most to him. Because like you said he fully just takes advantage of that devotion Crowley has for him. Insane, this shwo makes me INSANE

I missed this anon and yeah! The angels were one of my favourite parts of the season, and I think the strongest element aside from Neil Gaiman deciding he's just a simple man who wants to put his otp in situations. They are deeply awful and I kind of love them. They are the exact kind of moralizing hypocrites who are callous and cruel precisely because they think being on team good means everything they do is justified and it's actually impossible for them to be in the wrong (they're angels! is it even possible for them to do the wrong thing?).

but!! To me, they also seem like they're basically kids? Obviously they're not literally children, but there is this very consistent reoccurring joke about how childish/sheltered/immature they are. Muriel is the most obvious example, but the archangels come off like bratty twelve year olds to her sweet little kid.

Gabriel is basically teenager in love flipping off his family as he runs away with his backstreet guy. Uriel is constantly picking at Michael, Michael is playing at being in charge like it's a game, and it's ridiculously easy for both Aziraphale and Crowely to trick them obvious half assed lies. They're not allowed to ask questions! The Metatron treats them like badly behaved kids out past their curfew. At any point an old man with a beard may pop up to scold them and send them home, and they're all scared of doing something wrong by his standards and getting in trouble with this guy who is pointedly not God but who lines up exactly with the pop-culture idea of god the father, and who offers Aziraphale, among other things, a respite from the hard work of figuring out what the right thing to do is for himself. It's fine! You don't have to question the belief system you were born into or make a painful break with everything you've ever known! Aziraphale has had six thousand years on earth to grow up, but the other angels have been sitting in a sterile white box playing "i'm not touching you" games with each other and filing paperwork.

And I think that's extra interesting because this season also really emphasizes:

Heaven has Institutional Problems

Aziraphale isn't the only angel who's unhappy in heaven. Gabriel and Muriel were both completely miserable. They just didn't understand that they were unhappy because they'd never experienced anything else.

Angels who aren't Aziraphale can change and grow! There's very explicitly Gabriel being changed by love and Muriel growing up a bit on earth, and from a more fan-theory angle there's also Jimbriel, who I think is probably basically Gabriel minus the war and six thousand years of playing referee for Michael and Uriel while unleashing an assortment of plague and calamities on earth because that's God's will! Buck up champ.

We also get Gabriel and Beezelebub talking about how their underlings basically live for Armageddon, "if you can call that living." This is so bleak. They've all been on a six thousand year time out just dreaming of the day they get to beat the shit out of each other until they feel better, but it won't work because eternity is just more of the box.

Anyway I think it's going in a distinctly eden adjacent direction. Aziraphale is going to tempt those angels with knowledge and the capacity for change. I have veered so far from your ask anon i'm sorry you're right heaven really went all out on sucking this season & while Crowley and Aziraphale are both fucking it up Crowley refrains from being spectacularly cruel to Aziraphale about it and Aziraphale should learn to return the favour. I forgive you!! I forGIVE you. I forgive YOU. "you can be an angel again" is actually a worse thing to say than "you're a demon. i don't even like you." when he finally picks crowley over heaven i'm going to lose my mind.

[bartholomew-junior]

23 25 26... hmm. maybe sips ANd erina And gothi (unless you dont feel like that feel free to just choose one of them cause. 6 entire different answers to think) <3<3

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE thank u circular 4 ur boon of kindness. it is appreciated. apologies for the wait, as i had to let the ideas for this ripen be4 properly answering. i’m gonna start the first ask off with gothi from ep.10.

first of all, i just love her mask and am permanently sad that she never gets to wear it again. bonus for foreshadowing face reveal a few episodes down the line and making her an incredibly ominous cryptid like presence kind of. i just think she’s neat. next is erina in ep.32:

honestly i was really tempted to use a frame from when she was xanu possessed cuz it looked real fuckin cool, but i think this one’s more meaningful. she’s sympathizing with sips for once instead of trying to one up him (at least after a bit) and realizing how tough shit must’ve been for him. agh they make me insane. next is sips from ep.15:

from right after he ate bou claire’s heart. the buildup narration to him looking into the mirror is, ,, agghhh. the fact this was used to promo merch is funny also.

now for q. 25: technically, my first impression of gothi was her getting sips to do karaoke while drunk (lol) and that being the catalyst for EVERYTHING (this campaign is the equivalent of a snowball rolling down a hill). but now, it was her kind of managing and trying to quell sips’ anger best she could along with erina.

erina was just a memelord to me lol. sips wasn’t in the best condition the first few episodes, so my first impression was just that he was a bottomless pit of rage. now looking at the early episodes feels like looking at alpha minecraft in comparison to 1.21, especially without xanu or abby. sneeze was just a little guy.

ok freebie question time. i’m gonna pick q. 22 even tho there hasn’t been a new fic at all on ao3 since i updated my own fic (which makes sense considering we’ve kinda already met the goal of the series even if there’s a lot of stuff on the horizon). and i’ll pick all 3 of them + xanu for this cuz. why not

sips: a lot of the fics on ao3 4 this fandom are oneshots, so there isn’t much they’re able to explore if they’re low word counts, but my dream sips-centric fic would be like. a collection of missed/deleted scenes from his early life and time in ammurin with a kind of dream/void/death motif. bonus points if he’s trans

erina: i haven’t seen ANYTHING about her early life in kylandria being the child of busy royal entertainers, hell even her weapons are like a carnival trick, so i’d really like to see a bit of early life stuff again. are you sensing a trend. also her just dealing with royalty is fun and i have many ideas

gothi: early life again. listen she was a whole ass princess who was allowed to exist only because of her rank she was under so much pressure all of the time, especially with being buddies with xanu. did she ever talk to another defective foreclaimer. who are her parents. did they love her. ugh. also, seeing her interact with vicky is something i haven’t really seen before, so that’d be fun.

xanu: listen. i feel like he’d be the hermit on the high mountain type never interacting with anyone like thanos after killing half the universe. also, i feel like a lot of aspects of his character get discarded in favor of making him easier to digest and write, which i’ve done, and this does not do him any service. i think making all the fools gold cast kind of,, mlp headcanon designified is also fun and i want to do it. also bonus vicky

in conclusion: thank u circular <3333333 :]] :), i hope this isn’t miserably long. i’ve been all worded out for the day. do u ever think abt how vicky and sips are parallels and

[shoezuki]

I’m going insane I’m GOING INSANE

Egg you can’t keep DOING THIS TO ME every chapter is so so good and raghhhhhh I can’t deal

Lynx and Natasha are definitely catching onto Gepard by now… hehe if only they knew.. I’m loving Dr. Bissette like she’s one of my favorite character tropes and I’m. I’m falling in love with her characterization— she’s a minor character you can’t be doing this to me goddamnit

SAMPO’S AWAKE YEAAAAAAAA I loved that whole sequence of just “take your shirt off” “wgat” help that was so funny- I’m very excited to see what happens when he’s more lucid, but I gotta say I am really enjoying Delirious Sampo just for that extra comedy.

Gepard’s whole conflict with him missing the shack.. yeah. Yea that’s the good stuff. I like complicated stuff like this and it’s just?? So good???

(please give these two the happy ending they deserve oh my god)

Officially reaching the 100k mark! Huzzah!! Glad I could watch the progression in real time. I’ll always support your writing literally forever, I think. Even after this one is completed.

Seriously, give yourself some credit, 100k is not a very easy thing to achieve. You can do it o7

-💫

ps this probably makes no sense bc I just slapped a bunch of my thoughts together in one message, and it’s like not coherent whatsoever, but. Yea this is what you get now

GHH.H THANKYOU???? SO MUCH. holy fuck im gigglin n kickin my feet. ngl i still have ur ask in my inbox from the last ch and i would go n reread it constantly vsdmdvdh

nat and lynx Absolutely know. they r both like o fuck this guy is whipped. like its so blatant lbr. mfer is probably fantasizing bout rescuing sampo from a burning building. gepards all 'i want sampo safe and healthy im worried about him all the time i hope hes ok i wonder what hes doing now maybe i should go see him' and lynx is jus holding her head in her hands.

i like bissette a lot too tbhhh like. i was not gonna have her present at all beyond the ch of him wakin up in the hospital but i got attached vskdbddh. i am very tempted to make her more prevalent and give her more backstory n character n all that but... it feels weird to insert a minor character into a fic too much svdjdgd. maybe ill make her an oc outside of it

THE SHIRT THING. I have been thinkin bout it for SO LONG ngl i was like what would a drugged up sampo notice first. oh ya that gepard has a shirt on now cuz they spent nearly 2 months in the shack w a half naked gepard like seeing him w a shirt on now??? thats FUCKED UP. it should be a crime for him to hide all that perfection under stupid sweaters.

and ya.... ya. i think gep would have a lot of conflicted emotions bout the hideout n the time he spent there. like he feels confused bout missing any or it or remembering any of that experience fondly. it was inarguably one the worst experiences of his life. while his sisters were searching for him, his guards dead in the snow, he shouldntve been enjoying himself at all. n he feels bad that he misses the place n the sound of the wind pounding on the walls and sampo humming in the other room and the constant buzz of those beaten up heaters and the stiff uncomfortable sofa sampo slept on. its kinda that complicated thing of like... feeling 'wrong' for missing or thinking fondly of aspects from/around a traumatic experience. n gepard at some points gotta come to terms w it n realize he Can in fact miss it without it being like a betrayal to his fallen comrades or his sisters. but also he gotta realize half of what he misses from back then is just... sampo.

[lamamasjamas]

Of Dates and Forgetting

Summary: You had a date which later turned into you being tempted in between his bedsheets. Too bad he didn’t know who the hell you were when he woke up. Or, Jake makes his first appearance and the rest are going insane.

Masterlist

a/n: For Moon Day, which I just found out was a thing :) Also Jake Lockley speaks Spanish like a first gen kid because I said so. Also, also, forgot that he has gloves when in the suit. Oops, not that important though.

Warnings: Smut (in a small space), mention of violence, angst

Steven woke up with sweat pouring down his back and his chest.  He groaned as he sat up, carefully reaching for his ankle out of habit.  He wasn’t surprised to find nothing there; he hadn’t had to use the restraint in a long time. His hand scrubs over his face as he yawns.  

He stops abruptly as he feels stubble. He’s pretty sure he shaved the night before.  He always shaves on Tuesdays.  At least that was the day they agreed on.  He blindly reaches for his bedside table and instead of finding his phone he’s met with soft cloth.  

He stands up quickly and turns on the lamp.  He's pretty sure he doesn't own a band t-shirt.

The bed groans and the sheets shuffle.  He stares as he sees a woman sit up against the headboard to his bed.  He didn’t notice her before.  She was very pretty- no beautiful as the light from outside his windows gently enveloped her form. She pulled the sheets further up her body and wiped her eyes. She seemed familiar; he just couldn’t put his finger on it yet.  

“Jake?” She asks, half asleep and drowsy. He’s struck out of his stupor.  

‘Uh I’m not- I don’t know who that is?” 

She’s suddenly fully awake and sits up straighter.  Lines of confusion draw along her forehead and her lips slightly frown.  

“What are you on about?” 

He is so lost.  He doesn’t know what to say.  He doesn't know where this woman could have possibly come from.  If Marc had anything to do with this he would surely give him an earful. 

“My name isn’t Jake, I’m Steven actually, you must be confused.”  He puts his hands in front of him as if he was placating an animal. His lips twitch into a worried smile and his brows wobble. 

Her frown deepens and her lips curl in distaste. His accent was very different from the one he had a couple of hours ago.  He suddenly was British and his pitch was higher.  He looked confused and even slightly scared.  He didn’t even look at her as he explained how he didn’t know how she got there or how he doesn’t even know how he even allowed her in his home in the first place.  

She scoffed, offended.  She shakes her head as she pushes the sheets off and crouches to the floor to pick up her clothes.  She practically sprints to his bathroom and slams the door shut.

When she came out she was fully clothed and he was sitting still in bed.  All the lights were on in the apartment and she hurriedly rushed to the door.  She stops for a second before fully stepping out of his home.

When she turned back her eyes were filled with tears.  He felt sorry for her as her eyes roamed around the room and himself.  He could see the confusion in her eyes and he cursed himself between his teeth at how utterly disappointed she looked. 

With a final shake of her head she closes the door softly.  She didn’t want to cause any more trouble to anyone.  

…

You were embarrassed.  More than.  You were mortified. A part of you was also slightly filled with anger. It was very obvious that you thought things were deeper than what they truly were.  You didn’t know if you were angry that he ran you out of his apartment or that you cared so much.  Nonetheless, you were quite offended by the way he offered you to stay the night then made a whole scene about not knowing you at all. 

You thought he was nice too.  A real charmer. Turns out he was an asshole all along.

You continue organizing the things on the front desk to keep the thoughts of the night before away. A clatter is heard from down the hall. Then a door closes heavily, the loud clang echoing across the whole building which was now left vacant due to closing time. Your hands start to shake as you hear his familiar deep voice and American accent.

You curse god or whatever gods that may exist because you rarely go to the lobby at all. Most of the time you keep to yourself in your own designated area of work and in your office overlooking the papers and files that needed to be reviewed.  You only needed to submit some papers before you left to the front desk so that they wouldn’t bother you the day they were due.

The woman who works the front desk brought you out of your thoughts as she sat in her chair in front of you.

“Can I help you?”, she says sweetly, but you know deep inside she was rushing you to finish. She wanted to go home as much as you did. 

“Yes actually, can you just save these for me? For next Monday.”, you reply as calmly as you could, knowing that the person you have been trying to avoid was staring right at you at that moment.

You nervously tap your fingers against the desk. You feel him get closer to you but you continue looking at your nails.  You even see the women’s eyes flick between the both of you as he continues to gather the courage to mumble a word to you. 

Your face heats up as she finally looks up from her computer and hands you back the stack of papers. 

“All set! I’ll send them off by Monday morning.”  

“Thank you,” you barely pause as your eyes flicker to the name tag on her chest. “Sasha. Good night.” 

A hand grabs your waist and pulls you closer to his side. Your hand met his. Your instinct told you to swat it away but you kept still and squeezed as she smiled and waved at the both of you goodbye.  She smiled as she saw you being pulled against him. You swear you almost saw her coo at you as his arm lifted to your shoulder and gently rubbed his thumb in circles. 

She didn’t see the way your eyes twitched or how hard you squeezed his hand making him pull away and press it on your shoulder. She also didn’t see how your smile was strained as you walked away and to the doors. Or that you pushed him away the second said doors closed.

You glare at him with your arms crossed. Your figure was illuminated by the lamp above you, and the light of the moon.

“Querida- “, he sighs and rolls his eyes. He sounded as if he was tired, as if he already knew what you were going to tell him off on.  He sounded as if you were in the wrong and that you were making a big deal out of everything.  Your fume was already short.  

“D-desgraciado, Maldito, infeliz! You-You fucking asshole!” 

You hate how he stares at you with furrowed brows as if he didn’t understand you.  You hate how his tone was sharp and chastising.

“Ya acabaste?”

He wanted to take back his words the moment he saw your scowl deepen.  He could imagine steam coming out of your ears when you exhaled sharply through your nose. You chuckle sarcastically when he reaches out for your arm. 

“Wait-” You step aside before he can touch you.  Pulling your bag tighter around your shoulder and pulling your coat together, you hurriedly leave.  

“Wait.”  You ignore him, but he doesn’t move to follow you.  He called out a couple of times but you were already to the next block.  He sighs in irritation and watches as you disappear from his view completely.  

He almost wanted to catch up to you and explain.  Almost.  But, he's pretty sure that if you knew the truth you would run anyway.  

He walks back to his apartment and slumps on his bed headfirst.

…

“I just don’t trust you! How else could you explain a random woman appearing in our flat?”

“Apartment.”

Steven stares into the mirror, watching as Marc crosses his arms in defiance.  He’s surprised this has been the first argument they’ve had so far. At least since the whole Ammit debacle. Marc arches his brow as if telling him to continue.

“Apartment, flat, whatever it may be.  If you didn’t,”  He twiddles his fingers in front of the mirror. “Whatever it is that you did with her.  Then who did?”  

Marc shrugs. He eyes Steven skeptically through the mirror.  

“Look man, if you brought a girl over and you’re tryna cover it up, you don’t have to. I get it, she was pretty and you have your urges.  There’s no shame in wanting some privacy.”  

“Marc.”

“I mean I probably would do the same.”

“Marc.”  

“Steven, you really don’t have to be ashamed, man. I support you and all of your endeavors” 

“Please shut it, Marc.  I am quite frankly very stressed and I know for a fact that I didn’t bring her here and you didn’t either.  Did you get pissed?”

Marc looks at him appalled that he would even accuse him of such things.  “No. I would have told you if I was going to drink.” 

Steven huffs and brushes his teeth aggressively. 

“We were in the dark for three days. What did we even do then?” Marc asks as Steven wipes his mouth with a towel.  His eyes cut to the mirror sharply.  He’s been through this before, he didn’t like how helpless he felt then, he doesn’t like how helpless he feels now.  

Steven looks worriedly at the mirror and Marc copies his expression. 

“It’s getting a little too familiar, Marc. Do you think, maybe…”

Water drips from the faucet and lands loudly in the sink.  Steven starts to fiddle nervously with the buttons of his shirt and Marc avoids looking at him through the mirror.  Marc runs his hands through his hair nervously.  

“I don’t know.”

…

It’s been a few days since that conversation. They both were on the edge and closely monitored whatever holes they had in their memory.  Turns out gaps would appear every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday around 8 in the afternoon.  It started a couple of months ago, but it was ignored.  They assumed they were just extremely tired. Especially since moving back to the United States, where they had to adjust to such a different environment, and weather.  They thought their sore muscles were due to some serious case of jet lag.  

But, that was all pushed to the side because recently Marc had found a good job as security for a run of the mill bar and casino.  Barely anyone passes through the establishment and they have the same clientele every day.  He doesn’t know how the place even stays afloat in the first place.  He suspects it's a front for illegal things.  That’s none of his business anyway. 

He waves lazily at the bartender who barely gives him a nod and drapes his jacket over his back before leaving. He rolls his eyes as he leaves. The same three people that have always been there gesture wildly at him but he ignores them the best he can. Once outside he’s met with the cold frigid air of the night.  He sighs, of all the things he could be doing at the moment he was stuck working here.  

His brooding was rudely interrupted by a woman speeding past him.  She bumped into him so harshly that she even dropped her bag, spilling all of the contents within. She curses and apologizes under her breath.  She didn’t notice that he was practically kneeling still as she gathered her notebook and random pieces of chewing gum she had in her bag to keep her occupied when in commute. He was practically wide eyed as she looked up to his stock still form, frozen as he held her phone out to her. 

'It’s them!' Steven yells with a mix of terror and a little elatedness. 

‘Yeah, no shit.’, Marc grumbles back in his head.

Your eyes are practically cutting into his soul at the moment and as you snatch your phone from his grip. He looks around nervously and stands.

“Jesus Jake, you stalking me now?”, you cross your arms and square your shoulders, as if you wanted to intimidate him.  It’s cute, the way your nose scrunches in distaste and the way you try to make yourself bigger.  It reminds him of a puppy who’s trying to bark at a full grown pitbull. He chuckles, making you inhale sharply.  

“She looks a bit cross Marc.”

‘Yeah, no shit, Steven’

He looks at you up and down, lingering at your neck that wasn’t covered well.  He can very clearly see dark bruising scattered along your throat and a surge of pride swells in him.  He’s almost taken aback by it.  But the way you try to cover it up and your eyes start to shift unsteadily as you catch him getting a peek at your exposed neck makes him smirk a little.  He really didn’t know why.  

He clears his throat before starting.  His hands find their way to the pockets of his jeans.  

“Can I get you a drink? I just want to explain what happened… or at least what I think happened?”  

You sigh. You were going to go to the bar anyway, might as well make him pay for it.

…

He offers you a bottle and you eye it unsure. He was being nice and you were skeptical of his motives.  The last time he offered you a drink it was at his home and that didn’t turn out well.  He started off slow and paid for your drinks, then he pulled the stool out from under the bar allowing you to sit comfortably before sitting next to you.  He seems nervous but not like he did a couple nights before.  No, that time he looked as if he wanted to make himself smaller, his eyes were much rounder, his brows were arched and his lips were set in a perpetual pout.  

Now, his face was stony.  His eyes were slightly narrowed as if he was always alert, and his jaw was set and tense. His furrowed brows and his pursed lips made you think he was a totally different person. 

Jake wasn’t usually like this around you.  He always looked as if he was on the verge of teasing you, especially when he came to do whatever business he was supposedly doing with your boss.  He was playful and yet he was so precise in his words and actions it made you almost dizzy.  His persuasiveness and have at it attitude was one of the many qualities he had, but he did lack boundaries.  It was one of his fatal flaws. 

“My name is Marc. Not Jake.” 

You stare at him and sigh.  You take the bottle and a long sip. 

“So you have different names for different times of the day or what?”  

He doesn’t reply and chuckles lightly, pointing his bottle towards you as if saying ‘good one’.  

“Sorta.  It’s a lot more complicated than that. I just uhm…”  He winces and you look at him with concern.  You finally call out his name once he puts his palms against his eyes.  

“Marc? You good?” You give him a light shove on his arm with the tip of the bottle in your hand. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”, he groans.

You glance at the bartender behind the bar and see that he doesn’t even notice what’s happening.

“What are you doing Steven?” He rushed quietly.

“Steven? Jake, I swear to God if this was just a prank or something.”, you say as you start to scoot away slowly. You didn’t like how he just stared into the distance and started talking to himself. He ignores you. 

“What do you mean it’s not you?, he hisses. 

He inhaled sharply and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.  You yelp as he leans on your shoulder heavily.  The bartender stares wide-eyed and backs away slowly.  You didn’t have time to check on him before he sat up dramatically.  

His pupils dilate and pulse as he stares at you.  His face was a couple of inches away from yours. He wets his lips as his gaze travels throughout your face and neck.  You scrunch your face the way he likes when he knows you're annoyed. 

“Vete a la fregada Jake.” You slam your fist against his shoulder and start to get up from the stool. 

“Oyeee.” The last vowel lengthened in his throat and he rubbed his shoulder as if you had genuinely hurt him. You might have hurt him emotionally but definitely not physically. He grabs your hips and pulls you down on the stool again effortlessly.  You stare at him defiantly and with a little bit of disgust as he shushes you.  

“And here I was thinking you were gonna tell me something important.”, you huff. You noticed he was panting heavily. Your eyes softened. “Are you okay?” 

He ignores you as he deals with the two voices in his head.  He’s never had them conscious while he fronted before.  Now he knows why they were so pissed off at each other all the time.  

From the mirror lining the walls of the bar he can see both Marc and Steven staring in disbelief. He gives them a short wave and they panic.  Steven starts yelling at him, and Marc stares in hesitance. 

“Who the hell is this bloke? Has he always been there?”

Jake turns back at you amidst the chaos that he has just unleashed.  You stare at him in complete and utter confusion.  He was making faces at the side of his reflection.  As if there was a person standing there.  

“What is happening to you?  Is this some elaborate joke?” 

“No. But I really wish they were. They sure act like jokes.” 

Marc and Steven scowl in response. Jake continues unbothered.  

“I have been following a “case” since the past month, give or take.  Your employer is actually a really messed up drug dealer. You should have seen the amount of corpses he keeps around his secret basement.” 

There were many things about Jake that have always made you suspicious.  One day, out of the blue, he came to your workplace and was immediately loved by everyone at the office.  You remember he wore that stupid hat that everyone asked about. They genuinely thought he was a hipster or something. 

And you remember the way everyone was enamored by the way he spoke Spanish, especially the ones who couldn’t speak it themselves.  The only reason you paid attention to him was because you knew when he was saying the stupidest shit and was acting as if he was speaking words of love.  He always looked in your direction and smirked as the women and some men in the office swooned.  Work suddenly didn’t feel as dull as it was before, but you weren’t fooled by the way he would use the attention to his advantage. 

Sometimes he would be snooping around other people’s cubicles.  Of course, you ignored it.  You assumed he was just trying to get himself acquainted with his job. 

“You were on his radar. I wanted to know what was so special about you. Nothing has turned up. So far.” 

You looked down and chuckled darkly. You weren’t really surprised, considering aliens and superheroes existed, anything could happen. Richard, your boss, always rubbed you the wrong way, from the heavy hand on your shoulder as he passed by you to the way he talks to you as if you're an old friend. 

“So this whole time you’ve been trying to what? Get things out of me.” 

“No… Yeah?” He leans against the counter. You take a swig of beer and gulp. He copies you.

“Is that why you practically shamed me out of your apartment?”

He chokes and stutters. He looked at you amused once he had composed himself.

“You misunderstand me, cariño. You are special, but to me.  The idiot just got to you before I could and he made a mess of things.”

He grasps your hand gently and pulls your knuckles up to his lips. Your eyes round and his lips curl upward. He leans his head close to you and slightly purses his lips.  

You slap him before he reaches his destination.  The loud smack resonates across the establishment. Oohs could be heard from the drunks still around.  

“What are you doing?”, you say incredulously. 

“Jesus! You didn’t have to hit that hard.”, he whined.  He rubbed his cheek and you gave him a sheepish sorry. 

“What do you mean by ‘the idiot’?  What do you mean by ‘they’?” 

He stares at you, then motions to the door. “I'll tell you at my apartment. I'll tell you everything.”  You sigh.  This was obviously a ploy for him to take you back home.  You wouldn’t fall for it anymore.  

He grabs your wrist to stop you as you walk through the streets.  You didn’t give him a chance and just left him in the bar. For a moment he sat still, until he was urged by the bartender to get off his ass and chase after you.  You were about to shove him away but his grip tightened. Painfully.  You gasp and feel his whole body tense.  

He suddenly let go and stepped away from you.  He groaned but he sounded different. 

“Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to grab ya that hard. Did I hurt you?” 

His British accent disturbed you. His face softened and he looked as if he was on the verge of crying.  You were starting to think that the sudden shifts in accents and personalities weren’t just him playing a joke on you.  

“Steven, I swear if you scare her off…” 

The slight accent was confusing to differentiate with Marc’s but he could tell this ‘Jake’ person had more of a twang in his vowels.  He shivered at the thought that Marc wasn’t the only person he shared his body with anymore.  Who knows how long he was there anyway. Probably hidden away and idly watching by.  It explains a lot actually.  The days in which neither Marc or him can remember, the moments in which they assumed they had blacked out because of the violence they had enacted.  The guilt of seeing so much blood on their hands wasn’t actually theirs to hold. At least not as much as they thought. 

He must be the one to respond when times have been dire. When neither he nor Marc could save themselves.  So why is he here now?  What kind of shady business is he investigating with your boss? 

He sucks his teeth and winces as he sees you cradle your wrist.  He rubs his neck nervously and out of shame.  

“Sorry ‘bout that.”  

You look up at him and give him a tight lipped smile.  “It’s okay. Uhm.” You tsk. “You’re Steven right? The British one?”  

He nods and holds his hand out stiffly. “Yeah, that's me. Don’t, ehm, wear it… out”, he says with declining enthusiasm.  You chuckle and he shyly smiles as you reach for his hand. 

Your hands were soft and warm. A great contrast to his own hands which were calloused.  He always wondered before as to how they became so rough in the first place.  He’s much more gentle with his movements than the others.  His hand was gentle with yours, you noted. 

His cheeks heat up as he realizes he’s staring at your face.  His hand pulls back awkwardly to his front pocket and he shuffles in place.  

‘Would you please come home with me? To explain, of course.  Nothing else has to happen-unless you want something else?  I mean this Jake guy really likes you- not to say I don’t either- it’s just you seem to have a thing with him- and you probably don’t like me- at least not like that-” 

“I'll go with you.”, you say as you place your hand on his shoulder. You were very confused, but you didn’t want to leave him alone like this. At least not until you knew he was alright. 

…

‘You’re a real charmer aren’t you?’

He’s not sure which voice was speaking to him at the moment. He was too lost in the way you softly chuckled at his mannerisms as you both walked to his apartment building. Halfway through the journey he offered you his arm which you accepted happily.  

The story of the time a waiter accidentally gave him the wrong dish and he never said anything about it made you laugh. You liked how nice he was.  Even as you entered his apartment he immediately offered you a glass of water or some coffee, even if he told you himself that he didn’t like it at all.  He even offered you tea, which he said he was exceptionally great at making.  

“So, ehm, how do we start? Do you ask questions and I answer or do I just say whatever pops in my noggin?”

He clasps his hands in front of him nervously.  You shift against the cushion and sip on the tea he made you.  

“So, you said your name was Steven, then who’s Marc and Jake?”  

…

The rest of the evening was spent trying to sort out what he knew. He told you about why he moved to the states in the first place, and how he lived in London before.  He also told you about the trouble he had a few months back and how he discovered that he was bound to an Egyptian moon god.  He showed you videos that bystanders took of his appearances.  He even told you about some man named Arthur Harrow and how he was planning on releasing a giant crocodile lady who was going to ‘punish’ anyone who has done evil or that would have the probability to do evil. 

You now know that each person was in fact a different person, and that neither Marc or Steven knew who you were at all. 

“So you don’t remember the date? Like at all?”  

“We went on a date?” he asked, astonished.  

“Uh, yeah-”

He stands up abruptly, and points to his bathroom.  

“I need to go to the Little Boys room.”  He stiffly walks over and jangles the door handle aggressively.  

“I'll be out in a bit. Ehm, please make yourself at home.”  The door slams from his eagerness. His mumbles were heard through the door.  You snort at what he says. 

He sets up his mirrors against the sink and counter. He looks seriously between the two other people.  

“Do I ask her out? Is that what I should do?”

“What?”, both Jake and Marc shout.  

“She's very lovely.” He looks at the door dreamily.  They swear he was almost floating on air.  Jake glares and crosses his arms.  

“Do not ask-” 

“You should. I mean, we should.”, Mark interrupted eagerly. He nods confidently to Steven, who smiles back. Jake scoffs and looks on in confusion.  

“Marc, you go do it.  You're the one that got married once. You must’ve done something right.”

“What, no. You go. She likes you better.”

“Why don’t I go?” Jake interjects.  Marc and Steven stare for a moment. 

“No!”, they yell. 

You look over the picture on the stand.  You didn’t see it before. Whoever the woman was, she looked happy.  He looked happy too. They were holding each other close. It even had a date marked on the edge. You frown as he comes out of the bathroom. 

You hold the frame in your hands and nod towards it. 

“Is this your sister or something?”, you chuckle nervously and Steven does too, although he sounded as if he was genuine. 

“No, actually. That's my wife.” He laughs but you didn’t really find anything that funny.  You stare into the photo and see that she had a ring on her left hand. 

“I think I’m gonna go.”, you say as you start collecting your bag and jacket. 

‘Steven!’

“Oh wait. No I just mean- she is my wife, yeah, but -“ 

‘Steven. Choose your next words carefully.’  

Steven stuttered.  He was intimidated by Jake’s tone.  From the reflection of a window he can see him glaring at him.  He looked like he was about to pounce and rip his neck off.

“I don’t want to cause any problems.”, you say when you notice he’d gone quiet.  You’ve probably caught him red handed.  The fear in his eyes tells you as much. 

You had the same teary eyed look from the night you first met as you left the apartment. It was of pure disappointment.  You left and this time you did slam the door.  You can vaguely hear him argue through the thin walls.  As you wait for a ride you think of how stupid you feel.  Of course he had a wife. He was practically a superhero, with powers and everything. You were fooled twice and by the same guy- or guys? You weren’t entirely sure.  

It really brought your whole mood down.  Especially with what had happened the week before.  At least now you only have to worry about work. And filling out papers… and supervising the interns… 

The first thing you did when you got home was fall into bed and cry your eyes out of frustration and maybe a tiny bit of sadness. 

…

He’s been watching you through the window as you’ve gone through the day.  He’s also been watching other things but he always gets back to you.  He was like a moth to a flame and you were his light.  It wasn’t until he was about to leave that he heard some shady guys whisper about shady things. The only important thing he caught on was how they were going to kidnap someone, that someone being you.  Something about the boss wanting to satiate his need for blood.  

Cooky people liked doing cooky things.  The man couldn’t have picked up a better hobby, like say, knitting? This guy has been getting on his nerves. No matter what he does he can’t seem to get him alone. Khonshu was being a real hard ass about it too.  Even commenting on how he liked Marc better.  How he did the job faster. How he would never be distracted by a simple girl.    

Judging by the way that Marc was looking at you a couple of days ago makes him think Khonshu would have been wrong in that respect. 

They’ve been asking too many questions.  The most important being, how Khonshu was back. It was like a small bonding exercise they had.  Steven even pulled up several mirrors in his room and set them up as if they were sitting on his couch.  

The topic later evolved into you.  How he was able to get a job at your workplace. How you met. What he’s been doing for the past month and the months before.  It surprised them that he’s been doing other things before moving to the states.  He laughed at their gullibleness.  

A unanimous decision was made.  No more secrets.  No more blackouts, or blocking, or sporadic fronting. 

Now, he just needed to find you and take you somewhere safe before they took you first. Simple. The thing was that you absolutely did not want to interact with him at all.  Whenever he would show up, ‘for work’, you would ignore him completely. Even going as far as to take yourself to the other side of the room or locking yourself in your small office, which he knew you hated because of the way you would complain to your friends about it on the daily.  He would have to go in his other work attire. 

“I do not miss this” 

“Yeah, me neither.” 

He trips and falls off the roof. If not for the way his suit changed and he was suddenly hanging onto the ledge of the building they would have probably splattered on the ground. Steven adjusts his collar as he stands.  He jumps in place and punches the air repeatedly.  

‘What are you doing?’ Marc asks. 

“I'm getting ready.  I gotta look dapper for the lady.” 

He steps up to the reflective pane of a greenhouse on the roof and adjusts his collar.  “I look rather dashing. I dare say-” He yelps mid-sentence.

Khonshu stands, towering over him. “Where is Jake Lockely?”

Steven’s suit changes as the emblem embeds on his chest and wrappings spread throughout his body.  The mask and hood retract, revealing Marc.  

“Why the hell are you still here!?”, he fumed.

Khonshu sits heavily against the ledge and folds his arms as if he had better things to do.  “Your business with me is over, is it not, Marc?” 

“Listen up you ugly bird, we made a deal-”

“One you didn’t think through, clearly. You didn’t specify that I release everyone. I held up my end of the bargain.  I released the both of you.” 

He scoffed and was about to respond with numerous curses before the window to your office opened.  Khonshu was gone but not before saying, “You should focus on saving the girl instead of bumbling like an idiot.” 

You looked around as you opened your window. You’re pretty sure you saw something flash from above. Your shrug. You liked having fresh air circulating and natural light illuminating your workspace.  A knock at your door interrupts your intake of breath.  You lightly groan and sigh as you rub your eyes.  Your day was filled with meetings with higher ups and after some extra work and your final meeting of the day you were going to have dinner with your employer.  

He said it was business related but the way he smoothed his hand over your arm as he asked made you think he had a different motive.  Going by what Jake told you, you were a little nervous. You couldn’t lose your job though. 

Just as you leave with your colleagues to a staff meeting, he sneaks in through the small opening you had just created. He was just about to catch you before he heard the door shut.  He groaned. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he gasps.  

His hands flex as he gets a feel of the surroundings. 

“I’ll take care of this.”, Jake says ominously.  

…

Jake waited for you in your office. He roamed around for a few minutes occasionally looking through the things on your shelves and toying with them in his hands.

‘Stop touching her stuff!’

Marc is wholly ignored through the small mirror you keep on your desk.  Jake rummages through it, smiling slightly as he sees a frame with a family picture.  He’s pretty sure you told him that they all live in California. You're a long way from home. 

He realized after sitting in your chair for the past hour that you weren’t going to come in. At all. It seemed like today was a busy day and considering you were the one that was always hustling he figured you were gonna be out for the rest of the night. 

He groans as he slightly opens the door, checking if anyone else was in sight. He found the voices annoying. He didn’t really know how they did it on a daily basis, but then again, he’s not used to it yet. As he makes his way through the empty cubicles quietly, he can see both Marc and Steven in the reflection of the windowpanes.  

They stared as he crouched suddenly under a desk.  Holding in their laugh they watched as two of your co-workers got out of a board room and headed straight to a bathroom, talking about a viral video of a girl who makes crystals out of thin air.  They stop briefly, their feet a couple of inches away from his knee.  He takes a crescent dart from his chest and Steven protests.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I'm making sure we get the job done.” Jake responds calmly. 

“That’s unnecessary. Put that away.” 

“Great, not you too Marc. Siempre me hacen el malo.”, he growled as he put the weapon away.

They walk away and he waits until their footsteps are out of range.  He stands slowly and walks to a closet cleverly placed in front of the room you were currently in.  He watched from a window as you presented whatever you were pitching.  You looked very professional.  With a nice white blouse and a high waisted, knee length skirt… He even catches a peak at the stockings and your heels which make your legs look that much more-

Your eyes cut to his and they widen in awe.  You stop talking for a second, but continue as you clear your throat. He slowly steps into the closet and that sends a shiver up your spine.  You knew it was Jake or Marc or could it be Steven? Again, you weren’t sure. But, based on the videos you’ve searched up of him, that was his superhero, crime-fighting outfit.  You didn’t think he would look as broad as he did.  It was most certainly better than the videos.  You wonder how the suit feels. Under your hands. As you caress his arms.  Maybe his chest.  For texture of course.  It looks really comfortable to wear-

The meeting was over and everyone was filing out. You stayed at the end. Acting as if you were fixing your stack of papers and organizing them. You finally left the room once you made sure no one else was around.  You walk to the closet with purpose but stop when your name is called from another end of the hallway.

You're suddenly snatched and arms tighten around your form. Darkness envelops you as you struggle against a solid mass behind you. Their hand covers your mouth as you instinctively yell. 

“Te tengo. Soy yo.”, he uttered against your ear. You relax slightly but tense as his grip tightens around you. Footsteps get closer to where you were previously standing.

Just then your boss, Richard, walks past the closet. You hear him speak to himself once he glances back and forth, making sure no one was around.

“Get the van ready. I just have to find her and I’ll meet you at the spot.” 

Your eyes widen and you gasp against his hand. So he was going to murder you. If they weren’t here to save you…  

You didn’t even want to think about it. 

You turn in place and face him.  His mask smooths away from his face and slides down his neck. 

“Hola”, he says as he places his hands on your waist.  The closet could barely fit him inside. It was a wonder you did along with him. In trying to maneuver himself to make more room he bumped his head against a high shelf and you bump your shoulder against what you assume is the handle of a mop.  Things clatter to the floor and you groan. 

“When are we gonna leave this little hiding spot again?”

He leans his head closer to you and you instinctively move yours back. A hand at the back of your neck stops you from getting too far.  His brows were furrowed and for once his posture and demeanor made him look serious.  

“You're staying here. Safe. At least until I kill him.”  

“What? Kill him?”, you ask shocked. 

“Yes, he deserves to be punished-”

‘Shouldn’t the law decide what happens to him? We don’t have to kill him?”

“Steven, Moonknight is lawless. He goes by his own rules.”  

You watch as they bicker between themselves, or at least you watch as Jake tries to argue with the rest.  You couldn’t hear what the others were saying.  It ran on for about a minute, with Jake huffing and puffing every couple of seconds.

“I thought you would be on my side Marc.” 

He sighs.  “Fine. Háganlo ustedes. Desagradecidos.” 

“Jake, be nice.”, you scolded.

He huffed but before you could tell him to apologize his eyes rolled to the back of his head. You rolled your own eyes at his childishness. You shriek as the suit changes before your very own eyes.  He’s suddenly wearing a suit and is holding two poles in his hands. He puts them away behind his back, to who knows where. His mask is much smoother than Jake’s. You chuckle as his eyes widen and their glow expands. 

You reach out to touch the fabric and it's so soft.  You move closer to see the details and he shivers.  

“Does each person have their own super suit?”, you ask in wonder. 

“Super suit.”, he snorts. You realize it’s Steven.  “It’s ceremonial armor. At least that’s what Marc told me.” 

“Oh” He pulls you flush against him as someone passes by. His mask retracts. Your chest was against his and your palms were pressed flat against his torso.  You slowly move them up to his shoulders, to make space, and you can feel him squirm.  

“Sorry-”, he started.  

“It’s okay”, you reply quickly. 

You look up slightly and your noses bump against each other.  You two immediately separate. Your head goes down while he goes up.  

“I’ve never been this close to a woman before.”, he admits. You glance at him confused.  

“I thought you had a wife?”

“Yeah, I do, technically, but I just met her, y’know?” 

“No, I don’t actually.” 

“Well, ehm, Marc married her and then, I guess, things got tricky.  We’re separated now, but we’re good friends.”  

You hum in acknowledgment.  You bite your lip before acting.  You really hope you’ve been reading him correctly then.  You lean up and move your hands to his neck.  He cranes forward and the tip of his nose meets yours.  You feel as he breathes shakily against you. 

“That’s good then. Right?”

“Yeah… good. Very… very… good.”  His eyelids flutter and he tracks the way your lips close in on his.  He feels like his heart stops momentarily when your lips touch. 

His confidence picks up quickly. Enough to have your hands in his hair, and his hands gripping your hips tightly.  You're breathless as you let go. His eyelashes flutter on your skin and he rests his forehead against your cheek.  He whines when your stomach brushes against his pelvis.  You can feel him through the front of his pants.  

The room was starting to get stuffy.  The temperature was increasing.  You squirmed in his hold but he didn’t loosen. Instead his hand moved lower, to your skirt which raised higher against your thigh.  He splays his palm against the softness of your leg and pinches your stockings between his fingers.  His nose dives to your clavicle and he breathes in deeply.  His tongue occasionally pokes out to stroke along your throat.  He moans and you shiver.  

“You smell so good. Can I touch you?”  

Your whole body warms at his proposal.  You swallow and answer with a quiet yes. 

His hand moves teasingly up your thigh and gropes at the apex.  His thumb lightly skims over your swollen clit and you mewl.  You both groan as he tears through your stockings creating a ripping sound around the small room.  As delicately as possible he lowers your panties down to your legs.  He kneels and looks up at you in amazement.  He almost looks unsure of what to do next as he rubs the sides of your legs.  It was as if he was still formulating a plan.  

Before you could ask him what was wrong he slid his head under your skirt, pulling one of your legs over his shoulders so that he could get better access. His breath against you makes you moan.  You bite your fist, as you hear someone pass by outside of the door.  

He was waiting idly for a few seconds, taking in your scent and the way your pussy glistened for him.  Your legs almost threatened to collapse as he unexpectedly licked a stripe up your slit.  His fat tongue licking all of the crevices of your folds and rubbing the hood of your clit up.  You didn’t expect two of his fingers either.  He didn’t give you time to adjust as he finger-fucked you to the point in which you were verging in pain.  He was eager. Your arm leaned to a wall near you and you practically had to bite the sleeve of your blouse to stifle your screams. 

He made you cum fast. With his tongue repeatedly sucking on your nub and his fingers relentlessly rubbing against the most sensitive parts inside of you, you’re sure you wouldn’t have lasted a second longer. 

He lifted himself up and you hurriedly reached for his pants.  He was already leaking so much just from tasting you.  He lifted you easily and your legs wrapped around his waist.  He guided himself in you and groaned.  He started by lightly bouncing you against him, but as he continued, he got rougher.  He was practically on the verge of ripping your blouse from how tight he was gripping it.  

You moaned into his mouth, occasionally gasping from the way he swirled his tongue against the roof of your mouth. Trailing his mouth against your face and to your shoulders, and then back up again.  He was savoring every part of you. 

He licks the sweat running down your throat. His grip on your hip tightens and yours tightens against his shoulders.

He fucks into you in quick and deep thrusts. Each time his hips meets yours his cock manages to sink deeper into your cunt, bumping against your cervix. He’s so deep in you that your slick runs down his whole length and covers his pelvis. The squelch of your drooling cunt is overshadowed by his moans and whimpers.

He slams you against the wall and the door rattles. He stops the moment your yelp registers to his mind.

“I’m sorry love. Did I hurt you-I didn’t hurt you did I- oh”

Your swollen lips smash against his. He leans most of his weight on you as you continue to nibble on his bottom lip.  He stops momentarily and groans.  His thrusts pick up again and he’s much more coordinated.  He grunts against your ear and punctuates his thrusts by sucking bruises into your shoulders. 

“I thought he’d stretched you out. But you're still tight.”, he moans.  You're momentarily stunned.  You cry out as he traces around the rim of where you were connected to him.  He fully lifts your skirt, collects some of your slick with his finger and puts it in his mouth.  You cover your face from his vulgarity. You feel as if you were fucking in church. The thought that anyone can open that door and see you two made you lean into his touch harder.  You were surely going to hell after this. 

“Jesus C-Christ Jake.”, you stutter out between his thrusts that punch the air from your lungs. 

“I’m not Jake sweetheart.”  You wanted to scream.  Red-hot fire burst from your chest and traveled to your cunt.  A surge of your arousal dripped onto the front of his suit. 

“C’mon say my name. I know you can.” He kissed your cheeks softly, leading his lips across your face. 

“M-Marc”, your murmur against his lips. 

“There ya go baby.” He spreads your folds gently and massages around your hood in tight circles. 

“Cmon baby. He’s watching the whole thing. Don’t you want to show him how your pretty pussy sucks me in.”

“Jake?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, he’s telling me to cum deep in your pussy. To make you cum on our big fat cock.”

His words push you over the edge and he comes down with you. 

You thought you saw colors.  The whole goddamn rainbow.  It was glorious.  The feeling of him filling you up and the feeling of you pulsing against him- it was almost too much for your mind and body.  

He lowered you gently and you were so out of it you didn’t notice how minutes had already passed.  How he already cleaned the both of you up with a clean rag from a shelf.  He taps your cheek gently and you look up at him with a dazed expression.  Your blouse was crooked, your hair was frizzy and a mess, and your skirt looked like it had seen better days. But he still thought you looked beautiful, like the first time he ever saw you.  His expression was different, much more serious and you frowned slightly.   

“Marc?”, you question. He nods and gulps.  He shifts uncomfortably.  He nods to the door and points his thumb.

“I gotta… y’know.”

You nod dumbfounded. 

He leaves you in the closet with a peck on your lips. 

…

It’s been a week.  A week since the incident in the closet.  A week since you got a call from a police investigator telling you that your boss was found dead along with his secret side business of selling coke.  A week since his business had gone out of business and you’ve been out of a job.  And a week since you’ve last seen them. 

It was well past eleven at night and you wanted to sleep. You had an interview tomorrow for a position you were overqualified in, and you didn’t want the chance to mess it up in the slightest.  You didn’t notice your window frame slide up or your curtains ruffle.  You did notice the creaking of your floorboards as you finished washing some of your dishes.  From the kitchen knife set your parent’s gifted you, you pulled the biggest one you saw.  

The footsteps got louder, and you moved slowly to your hallway.  You move before you can think properly.  You scream and close your eyes tightly as you start swinging.  You can hear the person curse loudly.  Your hand which held the knife is detained and you squirm as the intruder presses you against their chest.  

“You seriously thought you could hurt someone with a bread knife?”, he said humorously. You elbow him in the gut and he lets you go with an oof.  Amongst the dim lighting coming from outside you watch as the hooded figure steps away from the shadows.  The knife was held steadily in front of you.  You glance at the bumped edges of the knife in your hand, and you curse yourself.

“It’s a serrated knife,” you shout.  “Don’t come any closer!”  

He doesn’t comply and instead steps fully into the light.  His shaggy curly hair makes your shoulders relax.  He has his hands up in front of him and you note he’s not wearing the suit.  

“Hey. Didn’t mean to scare you.”, Marc murmured.  

You eye him carefully and shove past him to your kitchen.  You place the knife loudly onto the counter. You turn and lean against the edge, crossing your arms as you look him up and down. 

“What are you doing here?” 

He comes closer and crowds you against a corner of the counter.  

“How are you?”

“Fine.” 

He hums. He scratches his neck worriedly.  

“Look, I just wanted you to know what happened back there, at your office.  It meant a lot to us.  You mean a lot to us, and we’re a mess. I mean- we argue all the time and we can't agree on anything.” He sighs, “I guess what I'm trying to say is that you aren’t just a- uhm, a-”

“A fling.”, you answer for him.  You arch your brow inquisitively and relax your stance. 

“Yeah… I Just wanted you to know. In case you wanted nothing to do with us after-”

“You like hot coco?”, you ask chirpily.  He nods slowly.  You smile.

He can see how your eyes droop as you pour the hot chocolate into his mug.  You sit beside him around your small coffee table and sip quietly on your drink. 

“They’ve been meaning to ask…” 

You smile behind the lip of your mug.  “They? Excluding you?” You blow on the steam teasingly. 

“We’ve been meaning to ask you.”  

“Hmhm?” 

“If you would like to have dinner with us.”  

“Sure.”, you reply. He releases a deep exhale, and you laugh.

You fall asleep on his shoulder after some mindless chatter, and you wake up in your bed. You padded over to your kitchen and noticed that both the pots and the mugs were left to dry overnight.  You didn’t remember even placing them in the sink.  

You go through your morning as usual, until you come across a knife in the middle of your coffee table.  It was very clearly out of place, almost as if it was supposed to be found.  The note attached to the handle confirms your suspicions.  You lightly smile as you read through it. 

This one is better for protecting against lower-level robbers.  I'm going to fix your locks someday. 

Thank you for the hot coco.  Abuela would be proud. 

Many hugs and many kisses from Steven, Marc and Jake.

[k-s-morgan]

ATLWETD: Snippet 1

Just a snippet from the chapter-in-progress!

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

“You should be our new Seeker!” Alphard exclaimed. His eyes shone with excitement. “It’d be the first time someone from our year got the position! Can I see you fly? We could have a play-match this evening!”

“It might have escaped your notice, Black, but Slytherin already has a Seeker,” someone’s voice said sharply. Harry turned around. A tall blond-haired boy stepped forwards, studying Alphard with a disdainful look.

A twinge of protective instinct stirred in his chest, but Harry dismissed it. It was getting ridiculous, Alphard didn’t need his protection from someone’s sharp tongue — scratch that, he didn’t need it in general.

As if to support his thoughts, Alphard snorted. A mirroring expression of disdain overtook his face.

“Maybe so,” he said haughtily, “but it’s not like you’re any good at it, Magnussen. You haven’t caught a Snitch for a year now. The only reason we won is because the Chasers managed to score enough points to beat everyone else.”

“No one can be lucky all the time!” Magnussen spat. His ears grew red, and Harry felt a pang as the memory of Ron brushed against his mind. “It’s not my fault that the Snitch has been a field away from me for the last couple of matches! I passed all the try-outs every single time. I’m the best, everyone knows it, whereas this half-blood piece of…” Magnussen stumbled over his words, his eyes darting to Riddle quickly. “Potter,” he corrected himself awkwardly. “No one knows how Potter plays. He’s not qualified to be a Seeker.”

“Well, he can’t be any worse than you, can he?” Alphard drawled. He also glanced at Riddle, as if checking for his reaction, and Harry shook his head in disbelief. Predictably, his blood began to boil.

It was insane. Riddle wasn’t even interested in Quidditch, why did anyone care about what he thought? Where were the actual players, why did they not stick up for their teammate?

Harry would have been tempted to ignore this latest unfolding drama and go back to the dormitory, but he couldn’t do it when he was being put in the middle. Alphard meant well, Harry appreciated his enthusiasm, but he had to agree with Magnussen here.

“It’s fine, Alphard,” he said. Only some people bothered to look at him — everyone else was too busy watching Riddle, apparently waiting to take their cue from him. “We can play this evening or tomorrow. I don’t need to be on a team.”

The protest came from the unexpected side.

“Sounds like you think you’re doing me a favour?” Magnussen snapped. He didn’t move, but his stance radiated aggression. “Who do you think you are? I earned my spot. You come from nowhere and you think you are some king of the seekers, is that it? Think you’re automatically entitled to my position?”

This was becoming frustrating.

“Cool off,” Harry advised him calmly. “I already said I have no intention to compete for your position.”

“As if you could!”

“Enough of this,” Riddle said. His voice was quiet, but everyone immediately froze, almost quivering in anticipation of what he was about to say next. The silence was absolute, and Harry turned his head with some reluctance.

Riddle was still sitting in his chair, resting his chin on his hand, looking bored. His eyes, though… They were fixed on Harry with intensity that sent a tiny thrill through his body. It was like no one else was present in the room, like everyone but Harry was insignificant.

The feeling was strangely addictive and therefore dangerous. It created the risk of him falling victim to Riddle’s deadly charm like the rest of his housemates — again. It was unacceptable.

“Do you want to be a Seeker?” Riddle asked him.

No one said a word, not even Magnussen. The attention of the room was on him now, and Harry shifted uncomfortably. When this circus was over, he was so going to curse Alphard with something that would render him mute for a week. He did not appreciate being put on the spot, and the last thing he wanted was to make enemies over something he didn’t care that much about.

“I do,” he said aloud. “But I don’t need to be on a team to pl—”

Riddle seemed to lose interest in him. He looked at Magnussen instead. His lips parted in a muttered spell as he made a quick complex movement with his wand. A ball of blinding yellow magic shot forwards, and before Harry could blink, it enveloped Magnussen’s arm.

An awful sound of breaking bones assaulted his ears, and for a moment, he blanked out.

It was a vivid reminder of the Ministry. It was a reminder of Tonks, of Luna, of Ginny, so fragile and so broken, so silent — forever silent.

The fog of the memories faded when Magnussen screamed.

Harry started, feeling bile rise up from inside. Magnussen's arm was not simply broken — it looked like someone tied it into several knots, disregarding the bones or softening them enough to make them pliable. Even worse, some magic continued to twist it. It pulsed right beneath the skin, glowing with now-pale yellow light. It looked sickening, and Harry grabbed his own wand instinctively, wanting to help but not knowing how.

Magnussen's screams were deafening. It was as if he'd sucked all the air out of the room because no one else was breathing — everyone was watching with morbid fascination, not moving, not looking away.

“Shut up,” Riddle said pleasantly. To Harry’s incredulity, Magnussen’s cries ceased as if by magic. He still looked grey, his body shook from pain and shock, but not a sound escaped his lips.

The feeling of unreality intensified. Harry raised his wand higher, but he didn’t even know what he wanted to do. What he was witnessing was too grotesque for him to comprehend — one student couldn’t possibly have this much power over everyone. Riddle wasn’t Voldemort yet. Why did everyone obey him? Not even his inner circle, but other students, students who had to have normal lives, who had to know what normal interactions were supposed to be like.  

"Black," Riddle called dispassionately. Alphard jerked like he was electrocuted. "Take him to the Hospital Wing. Miss Blainey won't be able to fix his arm for at least two months, but she'll give him something from the pain."    

Managing to look grateful for receiving an order, Alphard nodded and hurried towards Magnussen. They both left, but not before Harry got to see Magnussen's face again.

He looked lost. His eyes were empty — wherever he was mentally, it wasn’t here. Harry saw this exact look on the faces of his friends and in the mirror too many times to remain unaffected. Fury stirred up, and he whirled to face Riddle, the biting words hot on his tongue.

Riddle outpaced him.    

“Congratulations,” he said. He was smiling, but only barely — it could just as well be a sneer. “You will be representing the Slytherin Quidditch team from now on.”

Cheers rolled through the room. Other students broke into excited chatter; some even approached to clap him on the back.

Harry despised them all.    

[cowyolks]

The Beach (Hesh Walker x Fem!Reader)

Prompt: Since the world had gone to shit, the ghosts remanence about what used to be. All Hesh can think about is you and him on the San Diego Beach.

Warnings: I’m pretty sure this is just fluff, but lmk

A/n: So this gave me Nostalgia to write for some reason. Like it’s so soft and makes me happy to write. It might be because I was listening to one of my favorite songs I rediscovered.

Also the timeline of this is kinda messy. I know Hesh is 18 when ODIN happens, but for the sake of this I have aged him up. In this he’s been in the army longer than a couple months.

The previous battle had left them all exhausted, to the point where all of them were off their feet on the transit, happily pitching off some of their heavy gear in hopes of getting some sleep.

“I’d kill for a nice glass of bourbon right about now.” Merrick spoke to no one in particular, pulling his mask down off his nose.

Hesh popped his eyes open at his words, yet he didn’t say anything.

“Scotch is better.” Keegan mumbled.

“I just miss playing pool at the bar and robbing you of money on bets.” Merrick teased the sergeant and a soft smile crossed over Hesh’s face at the jest.

“I miss take-out and video games.” Logan pitched in next to his brother, huffing at the memory. Hesh nearly chuckled at the groups bickering, until they turned and looked at him expectingly.

“What do you miss the most, Hesh?” Merrick had asked, not knowing he had hit a particular soft spot within the new ghost.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He tired to wave off the group of eyes watching him, but the frown biting at his lips made them look at him in more interest.

“Ah, it’s a girl.” Keegan hinted, Hesh’s eyes widened as the sergeant had been right on the money. “How did you know?” The eldest Walker had asked astonished. Keegan simply shrugged, “I used to have a misses before this too, kid. Miss her every day.”

“I don’t even know what happened to her. After the quake, I never saw her again.”

“It helps to talk about it, kid. Don’t bottle it up, it’s enough to drive a man insane.” Merrick suggested as he was loading ammunition into clips. Hesh glanced towards his brother. Logan gave him a nod, already knowing of the woman who captured his heart.

“Her name was Y/n…”

June 7th, 2016 Kellogg’s Beach, San Diego, CA

It was so hot that he could see the sweltering waves of heat travel in the air. It made him almost wish he had stayed inside instead of treading through the white sands of the beach.

It had been a while since he had been home, after basic training and being on tour he had some time to enjoy the beaches he’d desperately missed. While he had missed Logan and his father, sometimes he felt better being alone.

A loud bark drew his attention away from the waves, “Sorry Riley.” He bent over to pick up the red frisbee his K-9 had placed down in the sand, and with a grunt he threw the toy towards the waves, watching it plop down in the water as Riley chased after it like a rocket.

Yet the dog seemed to catch wind of something else, as he began to run in the opposite direction of his frisbee.

“Riley!” Hesh had scolded, before making his way to the waves to retrieve his dog’s favorite toy. His eyes scanned the beach, looking for his German Shepherd who would surely be in big trouble when they got home.

He panicked as he caught the familiar tail wagging over a body on the ground. With a quick curse, he took off in that direction, a apology quick on his lips, but it died as he caught sight of woman on the ground.

It was then that he decided you must have been a siren of some sorts, beautifully crafted just for his eyes to see. You were the most darling woman he’d ever seen, and he was half tempted to just pitch himself into the waters already and save you the trouble of drowning him.

“Is this your dog?” You had asked as you brushed the sand from your thighs and forearms. Hesh gulped at the swimsuit that hugged your curves, but his thoughts were put to a halt as Riley loudly barked. “Oh, um yes. I’m so sorry, he’s never ignored my recall before.” Hesh glared down at Riley, who seemed to be mockingly sticking his tongue out at him.

“Don’t apologize, I’d never pass up meeting a dog.” You had smiled heavenly, something that nearly took his breath away. You had held out your hand, giving his a light shake after introducing yourself.

“David Walker.” Hesh greeted back, watching as you sat down upon a beach towel. You gestured for him to sit down next you, he was quick to sit, relishing in the shade of an umbrella you had pinned in the ground. Riley scrambled off among the beach, not to far out of eyesight.

“Army, huh?” You had gestured to emblem on his shirt, which clung to his chest and was slightly damp with sweat from the hot summer sun.

“Yeah, just got off tour.” He fumbled with his fingers. “Same here.” You had spoken, nearly shocking him to death as he turned to you. “No way, you served?”

An offended look crossed your face, one that Hesh was quick to mend. “Not that you’re a woman, just you’re so… beautiful.”

A gentle laugh left your lips as you pulled your dog tags from around your neck, “I use it to my advantage, trust me. I’m Coast Guard, a Captain.”

He nodded, not doing a good job of covering his impressed face. Not only did you serve, but you outranked him by a mile.

“Impressive.”

“I miss home, though. It’s tough leaving behind family.”

“My dad and brother both serve with me. I get it, trust me.”

You hummed, reaching to the side and popping open a cooler. You fished out two beer bottles, offering one to him. “I don’t miss how hot it gets here though.”

“And no matter how hard you try-”

“You can never get used to it…” Hesh finished, a happy smile on his face as he turned to you. You brought your eyes away shyly, taking the time of swigging a bit of the cold beer.

“Would you like to go get some dinner?” He had asked before thinking, cursing his ability when it came to dating. His hand clenched around the hot sand in embarrassment.

“How does seven sound?” You had supplied.

Present

“No freaking way.” Merrick drawled to the Walker boy with a smirk on his face.

“I have no idea how I got her to go out with me, but after that date, I figured she’d be the one for me.”

“You got a date with a Captain.” Keegan mused, sharpening his knife.

“Several dates. I asked her to become my girlfriend that summer.” Hesh bragged, a proud smile upon his face. Logan chuckled from beside him, “it’s all he talked about for the whole month.”

“Shut it.”

July 4th 2016 Kellogg’s Beach, San Diego, CA

“Don’t let go of me.” You begged against Hesh’s arms as the salt water lapped against your thighs.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Honey.”

He sat down upon his surfboard, basking in the evening air of the familiar beach. It was the happiest he’d been in a while.

“Look here comes a wave.” He pointed in the direction of the elevated water, watching as your face paled. “I’m going to paddle further away, remember what I told you. It’s all about balance!” He coached.

He watched as you paddled towards the wave, and with a shaky step you managed to stand against his old board. Hesh gave a hearty cheer, before you lost your balance against the wave and fell into the water below.

Hesh was quick to paddle over, watching as your head bobbed up above the surface with a huff. “Well you stood on your board for a couple seconds! That’s progress.” He praised, watching as your eyes grew mischievous. “Don’t-”

With a tug on his ankle, you pulled him into ocean. He emerged with a playful glare, his hair dark from the water. He quickly forgot his anger as you wrapped your legs around his waist. His legs treaded the water gently, “I can’t believe you made me do this.” You mumbled against his reddening cheeks.

“I can’t believe you’re from San Diego and part of the Coast Guard and you don’t know how to surf.” He retaliated as he placed a couple of salty kisses on your cheeks and forehead.

You giggled in his hold, and he’d never felt more content in his life. Finding someone so truly alike to him was a blessing in disguise, and it made it even sweeter that you understood him.

Your eyes turned to the setting sun, “cmon, fireworks are going to start soon.”

“Right.” Hesh agreed before the two of you swam back to the white sand beach and lay upon the same spot you had met. Your head rested against his chest as he traced his fingers over your side, humming a sweet Beatles song under his breath.

“You won’t forget about me, right?” You had spoken against his tanned skin. Hesh felt the pang in his heart at the question, already this girl had taken off with his heart and buried it in the sand. He couldn’t forget her if he tried.

“Never. I’ll write to you every chance I can.”

“Good.”

A loud boom interrupted the conversation, and as their eyes moved up to sky, they watched the colorful fireworks in each other’s arms, content with the time they had.

Present

“I wrote to her every time I could get the chance.”

“And she actually wrote him back.” Logan teased just as Hesh swatted him over the shoulder.

“Did the old man get to meet her?” Keegan gestured to Elias, who was in the next compartment chatting heavily over the comms. Hesh wondered what he was doing for a split moment before his thoughts drifted back to you.

“No he didn’t. I was going to introduce her on the day of the quake.”

July 17th 2017 The Walker Residence, San Diego, CA

“How about this one?” You had asked over the phone, the camera turned to you holding up a floral patterned dress that would reach your ankle.

“Beautiful. Like the last five you’ve shown me.” Hesh teased as his face softened over the video call.

“I just want to impress your dad, I’ve got a big shoe to fill.”

“He already loves you.” Hesh brushed off, watching as you moved out of the frame to try on the summer dress.

“Do you talk about me, David?” You teased, Hesh couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Sometimes.”

Air caught in his throat as you stepped back into the frame, the flowing fabric gave you an innocent glow that made his heart beat a little faster in his chest.

“Ah…. Wow.” He managed to stamper out, admiring the way you spun on your heels to show off the dress. “I take it this is your favorite then?”

“Yes.” He melted, happily taking a couple seconds just to engrave this image in his head. “I can’t wait to see it in person.”

“Well don’t get to handsy when I’m here. I have a reputation as captain, so I’ll make you drop down and give me twenty.” You snickered, just as Hesh wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. The two hardly noticed as Logan walked into the room with a disgusted look on his face.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t just here you say that.” He addressed to his eldest brother, who happened to be a lot happier since his tour. He was grateful for you in every way for making him happy.

“Hey, Logan!” You called through the screen, and Logan rolled his eyes playfully before mumbling a quick, “Hey, Y/n.”

“You on for a friendly game of beach volleyball, tonight?” You asked, sounding every bit confident. “As long as you’re my partner.” Logan bargained, and cheered when you agreed. Hesh let out a teasing huff, but let a smile spread across his face anyways.

“Dad wanted us down by the fire pit.” Logan informed Hesh, who was quick to nod.

“Old man wants to see us, I’ll see you in about half an hour, okay?” Hesh stood, stretching his back as he snatched his phone.

“Alright. I love ya, Hesh.”

“Love you too, Honey.”

He never got the chance to tell you goodbye.

Present

“I always assumed she died, I just hope it was quick.” He frowned, feeling a weight he didn’t know was on his shoulders lift.

“Sorry, brother.” Merrick sympathized, nodding his head in Hesh’s direction. Before Hesh could open his mouth to reply, the transit came to an abrupt stop, jerking the ghosts upon the ground.

“What the hell…” Keegan growled as he made an effort to stand, Elias finally made his way to his men. Hesh’s eyebrows creased at his unbothered look, he knew something.

“What is it, sir?” Merrick asked as he slung his gun into his hands. Elias made a gesture to keep his weapon down.

“I was just in touch with an unexpected ally.” Secretly, his eyes flickered in Hesh’s direction, just as a body dropped down from the hatch on the roof.

He’d recognize this woman anywhere.

“Long time no see, Walker.”

[blublublujk]

it was destiny (5)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

words count: 9k

summary: milf reader finally opens up (confessions?)

pairing: dilf jungkook x milf reader

warnings: 18+, swearing, insecurity??, explicit sexual content (dirty talk, praising, stripping, spanking, possessiveness, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, protected passionate sex, dom jungkook??) if i missed anything sorry T—T

—> m.list

--

By the time you had woken up the next morning, Jungkook had been long gone. And it’s not that he didn’t want to stay or that he felt uncomfortable. No, Jungkook felt the best he had felt in years. Jungkook did it for your sake. Because maybe it would be easier to wake up alone rather than wake up next to the person you’ve been sleeping with for months beside you. Plus, he thought about Jia. He wanted to be long gone before she woke. Of course, there was nothing he wanted more than to personally meet the precious human whom you brought to life, but Jungkook thought there would be a time and day for that. He felt one day it would be possible because anything felt possible around you. Things were simply complicated.

And of course, it was the first he had ever spent the night much less stepped a foot into your home and vice versa. You had dozed off on him here and there at the hotel, a couple of times after sex, but never actually once have you fallen asleep and he the same. He was always curious about what you looked like in such a calm state. Now he doesn’t have to imagine it becoming his reality. Without this sounding weird, he’s never been more fond of you. 

However, leaving you at the crack of sunrise was not that easy. Especially when Jungkook woke up from his peaceful sleep with his arms wrapped around your sleeping figure. Your breathing was slow and steady. Your hair had covered half your face, Jungkook did his best to move it aside— still there was a slight stir in your sleep. Jungkook smiled admiring the sight, your lips had formed into a pouty frown. He was so badly tempted to steal a kiss. You looked so beautiful, you always did, he thought. Jungkook wished he could wake up to this view every single day. 

Was he asking for too much? 

Was he getting ahead of himself?

You woke up about 30 minutes after Jungkook decided to leave. Typically you didn’t wake up cold, but today you did. Losing his warmth after being kept warm within his arms all night really brought shivers down your spine. How could you miss someone you haven’t even had completely? You felt like a fool. 

Tossing the sheets aside, you stood up to find a note posted on your nightstand, reminding you of last night's encounter. It was scary just how quickly you broke your own rules for Jungkook. It wasn't like you at all. You would have never done this for the average man. But Jungkook wasn’t the average man. He was so easy to give into though, he never asked much of you. Was this all too much? 

Shaking the crucial thoughts away, you gave yourself a nice stretch before reading the post-it note. 

Y/N, thank you for letting me spend the night, but also I’m sorry if I crossed any boundaries. I slept very comfortably. I hope I wasn’t a bother. 

He could never be a bother though. Jungkook was just so nice to have around and that was scary. 

I’m not really sure if you are a morning person (it’s okay, I’m not one either LOL) but I hope your day goes well. :)

You weren’t, but the reassurance and smiley face made up for it. You’ve never seen anyone use the term “LOL” besides text messages, but anything Jungkook did was too cute. You quickly realized there was nothing he could do that could give you an ick. He was going to drive you insane eventually. 

Thank you once again.

Instead of pushing these feelings aside like you had been used to, your insides were screaming ‘come again’ and ‘you’re always welcomed here’. What the fuck was even going on? 

P.S. You sleep so pretty. Is that weird? I suppose we have crossed many boundaries for things to be weird between us. 

It’s not. But he was right, too many boundaries have been crossed. At some point, you stopped caring for them. 

Enjoy your morning. 

— JK 

Before you could stop yourself, you picked up your phone dialing this so-called JK. There were three crucially long rings and then he picked up. 

“Jungkook?” You call his name as if confirming it was him on the other side of the line and not some strange man. 

“Y/N, hi.” Jungkook’s voice was sweet even over the speaker. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I just read your note.” 

“Ahh.” Jungkook pauses, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Is something wrong?”

“Nope.’, you chew your lip nervously before you continue, ‘Actually, I was hoping I could see you soon?”

Jungkook checks his schedule though sure about his availability. “Yes.” He was always going to be available for you and even if he wasn’t, for some strange reason, he would make the time. It had gotten that bad for him. “Does lunchtime work well for you?”

“Actually, no. I have something I must do today. Can you meet tomorrow?” 

“Yeah… yeah that works.” Jungkook sighs, secretly wishing it was tomorrow. “Does late night work for you? I have some work to get done.”

“Yeah, of course. That’s perfect actually.” Some silence carries. “Thank you.”

“For?” Jungkook asks. 

“The note. You called me pretty.” You feel your cheeks tint pink saying the words aloud. Talking to Jungkook made you feel like you were back in middle school and he was your crush that everyone, including teachers, knew about. It was the kind of crush that friends would tease you about. Like everyone around you knows that the crush is mutual, but the actual people involved, that being— you and Jungkook. It was more than just a crush you were sure of that much, but dating doesn’t come easy for parents. There is so much to think about, so much to consider and that was a problem for another day. 

Jungkook chuckles, pulling you out of your thoughts. You could imagine his smile (the same one that resembled one of a bunny) in your head. “Y/N, you always look pretty.” Jungkook's voice was gentle and quiet, but you could tell he was being so serious. 

You scrunch your nose at the compliment, you weren’t always the best at accepting them. “Well, thank you anyways. You sleep pretty too.” It was one of the worst compliments you had ever given someone mostly because it sounded wrong being said aloud, nevertheless it was true. Everything was pretty about Jungkook. 

“Impossible. Me pretty?” Jungkook snorts, completely arguing against the idea. “Those two words should never be used in the same sentence.” 

You scoff defensively. “But you are. You are very pretty Jungkook. I have never seen anyone so pretty. There’s no way you don’t notice the way people look at you.” 

“How do they look at me?” He asks in a lower tone, you picture his tauntingly stupid— but sexy grin. He totally knows how. People look at him like they want to eat him alive, the whole room stops and stares at him— he’s the kind of attractive nobody sees back home. 

“I— I don't know. Everyone seems almost in love with you.” You stutter over your words. “Like they think you are pretty. That’s how.”

“Is that so?” Jungkook's smile grows. “Is that how you look at me?” 

There was a sudden itch in your throat that caused you to cough like a very sick child. “Oh god. Um, yes— I mean no. I— I don’t know? I have to go now, thank you again.” You clear your throat. 

“It’s my pleasure.” Jungkook replies so casually as if he is completely innocent. “See you tomorrow?”

You nod to yourself. “Mhm, have a nice day Jungkook.”

“You too, Y/N.”

You hang up the phone before he gets another word out. Your heartbeat was getting faster by the minute, it didn’t take much to get you going anymore. Jungkook could say or do anything and it was more than enough for you. You were weak for him and he had to have known that by now. 

But of course, Jungkook thought the same about you. Both clueless, both just waiting for feelings to slip and possibly become a lot more than you were now. 

Time would only tell. 

That’s how things seem to work for parents. Time seems endless and short at the same time. Do you open up and risk losing a great lay, now a friend? Do you risk letting this so-called friend into your life— into your daughter’s life? It would be stupid right, after all he was nothing more than sex on a pair of legs. Wasn’t he?

But, what if he was exactly what you imagined him to be? What if he wasn’t? 

Could you make it work?

Parents fear too many things, and for a very good reason. Though many people advise to lead with the heart, the heart doesn’t always lead you to the right choices. And those same choices could affect those who mean the most. 

Jia was a very compassionate kid and you were sure she would understand you if you opened up about wanting to start dating (if you even ever got that far with Jungkook), but the whole situation was weird. After all, Jungkook was the father to her friend. She has never seen you with anyone much less another father. It would be very different, not only for her but for yourself. You didn’t know what to think anymore and it was weighing on you. The longer you were around Jungkook the more you were realizing your feelings were evolving, and very quickly.

That’s why you decided to meet with Namjoon. He was wise before anything else. Namjoon always had the answer to everything. Even when he didn’t, Namjoon didn’t rest until he did. He was that type of man. That is one thing you really enjoyed while being with him and still he gives the best advice— even after your separation. You figured now was the time to open up before things with Jungkook escalated any further. You owed that much to the man who helped create the beautiful daughter you’d been blessed with. 

After dropping Jia off to school, you met Namjoon at a cafe he used to take you to when you both were both younger and deeply in love. The cafe maintained many beautiful memories. This same cafe is where he first took you after your first official date. Just the simple smell of freshly baked bread took you back to those sweet memories you shared. 

~~

“Okay you can totally tell me the truth now and don't lie.” Namjoon placed his palm over his heart, dimples deepening as he smiled. “I promise, I can handle it.”

“About what?” You whispered, reciprocating his wide smile. 

“Did you really enjoy your day with me? You don’t think I’m like a total loser now, do you?” Namjoon winced, expecting the worst. He was positive he talked your ear off, typically not the best scenario during first impressions. He liked you so much, he feared messing anything up so early, it was a bad habit of his. His longest relationship consisted of a long—short month, exactly thirty-two days. Namjoon was a great man, but terrible at picking up hints. Girls disliked that, but good thing you weren’t like most. 

“Namjoon! I’m offended you would even think that. Of course not! I think it’s super cool you know so much about art. I was impressed to say the least. I don’t know much about it, however I really enjoyed today. I learned a lot because of you. Thank you.” You smiled sweetly, bumping into his shoulder playfully. 

Immediate relief set over him. “Gosh, I’m so glad. I was starting to think I was losing you already.” He rubbed his heart as if it was aching. 

“You couldn’t get rid of me that easily.” You teased, poking his rather solid bicep. 

“And I wouldn’t dream of it.” He quickly responded. 

Funny, you both had no idea. 

“It’s kinda chilly, no?” You shivered scooting closer, hoping to share some of his warmth— or maybe it was just an excuse to get closer to him. A woman has her own needs, right? Nothing wrong with that. 

Namjoon picked up exactly what you were putting down. He had recently watched this one movie where the male lead shared his body heat with the female lead during a cold winter storm, though the male lead was a werewolf and she, a fragile human, he was sure this situation could work in real life (romantically speaking and for the sake of avoiding hypothermia, of course). 

Namjoon put his arm over your shoulder bringing you to rest against his warm figure, nearly cuddling you. “Here. Is this okay?” He asked, eyes attentive of your response, but you weren't even listening anymore, placing your hand against his broad chest. 

“More than okay.” You whispered, stealing glances from his plumped lips and then back to his eyes, repeating the action again and again. He was doing the same, practically begging you to make the next move, praying silently he didn’t misread the situation. It didn’t take long for you to lean into his touch and you shared a sweet kiss. It was slow at first, but quickly got heated. You shyly pulled away, blushing at the fact that you were nearly eating his face in a public area, you hated when couples did that yet here you were, doing exactly just that. 

“Let’s take this somewhere else, yeah?” You whispered into his lips. 

He gave your lips a quick peck before he replied. “Hell yeah.”

~~

“Namjoon!” 

“Y/N, hey!” Namjoon's smile was as warm as when you first met him. Always welcoming. He didn’t hesitate to take you within his arms for a quick tight hug. “You doing good?” 

Most people would assume meeting with an ex is a bit awkward— strange even and maybe it was, but not between you and Namjoon. You two had been through too much together to allow anything awkward or any resentment invade your friendship. For fuck’s sake, you have a whole child together, this same man watched you carry his baby in your belly for nine months then witnessed you pop it right out, literally nothing could be awkward now. Neither you nor Namjoon would ever allow it. 

“I am Joonie. Thanks.” You smile, pulling away. He already had your seat open and drinks placed upon the table. “You okay?”

“Yes, of course. Vanilla latte still okay?” He gestures towards the drink still asking after years as if your order would ever change. 

You nod, taking a seat. “Always.”

“You look good! It’s been a while, no?” He says casually building conversation. “I’m starting to think you’re avoiding me.” He dramatically accuses. 

“It’s only been a month or so.” You roll your eyes to the back of your head, quick to your defense. “Please, Joon. If anything, you’re ignoring me.”

“Mhm sure.. so,’ Namjoon clears his throat, ‘what’s the meet up for?”

You figured there was no better way to tell him besides just being hundred percent honest with him. “I’m seeing someone.”

Namjoon's eyes widened and surprisingly he looked pleased more than anything. “Really? Wow, that’s uh— amazing. I’m happy for you.” He smiles with all his teeth. 

“What.” You breathe out. 

“Here I thought you would never move on.” Namjoon confesses harshly though you knew it was all jokes.

You gasp with great offense. 

“I'm kidding, Y/N. I’m really happy for you. Really.” Namjoon grins, clapping his hands cheerfully. 

“You are so annoying. Really.” You copied his tone. 

Namjoon annoyingly massages his heart with his palm. “Ouch? That’s not how you should treat your baby daddy.”

“Oh, I’ll throw up in this cafe. Stop being weird.” You threaten. 

Namjoon laughs hard, clutching his stomach, completely enjoying himself. “Wouldn’t be the first time you embarrassed yourself here.”

“Fuck you.”

“Already have.” 

“I’ll kill you, Kim Namjoon. I’m being so serious.”

“What the fuck? My full government name?” You raise your fist up, the man immediately puts his hands up at your mercy. “Okay, okay. Sorry. Let’s talk.” Namjoon smiles apologetically, resting back against his seat. 

The mood suddenly changes. 

“This was supposed to go smoother.” You huff, taking a sip of the iced coffee in front of you. “I have so many things to say and nothing at once. Is that strange?” 

“No, of course not. That’s totally normal.” Namjoon assures, taking a sip from his own drink before placing it back down. “We are only human, Y/N. It’s okay to be confused. We always find our way around, right?” 

“Right.” You answer unsure. 

“How long have you been seeing this guy?” Namjoon asks, leaning into the table, settling his strong arms against it. 

You can’t help but to notice how much he has been working out, it is definitely paying off. You look away for your own good. “God, I don't know. I lost count. It’s been more than a few months, I guess.” 

Namjoon nods, tapping his fingers. “Months? And I’m hearing about this now?”

“Well, to be fair you never told me a word about this girlfriend of yours.” 

“Fair. Sorry about that. I didn’t really know how to tell you.” He awkwardly mumbles, scratching behind his head. 

“It’s okay Joon. I just wished you would have told me before telling Jia.” You easily confide. You were lucky to have Namjoon as the father of your child, it was always easy to open up to him. He would do anything for Jia. 

Namjoon immediately worries. When he told Jia, she didn’t have much to say about the whole situation. He assumed she was completely okay with the idea of him dating. Of course, it wasn’t always that simple. “Did she not handle it well?”

“No, no. She did. We talked it out, like we usually do… she seems okay with the situation actually. She likes that you are happy and now receive twice the love.” You tell him, easing his concerns. 

“I'm glad to hear that. I was a bit worried. I didn't want this to harm her in any way. I’d end it immediately, if that’s what it meant to keep her happy.” There wasn’t a single doubt in his tone. He didn’t hesitate to put his daughter's wishes first. 

“No Namjoon-ah. I would have never allowed that. I understand where you are coming from but we should never let our happiness be taken simply because she isn’t okay with it now. That’s how all kids are. Shit, that’s how us adults are. We all require time to process these things. She will come around, though I’m certain she already has. She loves you so much Joon. You have no idea.” You explain things carefully to him as you would to any other friend. 

Typically, it was Namjoon in your place. You always had many doubts and questions, but he would always respond with ease and a solution. 

“You’re starting to sound a lot like me.” Namjoon chuckles, his cheeks slightly tinting pink. 

You shrug, taking another sip. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“So, who is this lucky guy?” 

“Ahh, about him.” Namjoon's eyes softened making you feel as if he is genuinely listening to all you have to say even if it didn’t apply to him in any way. Namjoon was always a great listener. “He’s really cool.” 

“Yeah?” He purses his lips. 

“Yeah… when I first met him I wasn’t sure I wanted him around for long. Now, it's like I can’t see myself spending time without him. I think about him literally all day. Our situation isn’t favorable or the best in any way. There is a lot we must talk about before we jump into anything. But he’s vulnerable with me, Namjoon. He listens to me and understands me. He has no idea how much he has done for me. He’s patient, doesn’t rush me into anything. He’s kind, so kind. Sometimes, I feel I don’t deserve his kindness.” 

“You do Y/N, you do. What made you realize you wanted him around? That you couldn’t see yourself without him?” 

You shift in your seat thinking about how to respond to his questions. “I don’t know where it started. Maybe I’ve always known, it was just hard to admit to myself, well anyone really. That’s why I’m here. I couldn't bear to imagine what would occur if Jia didn’t approve.” 

“Y/N, listen to yourself. You just scolded me earlier about not letting Jia’s current feelings come across my happiness. It is only right that you follow your own advice. I know our daughter, she’s the most selfless being to exist on this selfish planet. Trust me, she will come around for you just like she did for me. You are her Mother, after all. You deserve to be happy too.” He went on to say exactly what you imagined he would say. But, there were too many consequences to think about. He made everything sound too easy. 

“There is another problem though.” You pause, gnawing at your bottom lip. “He’s also a father.”

“Ahh wow… that is something. So, you also fear not being accepted into his life?” Namjoon guesses, spot on. 

“Right. He has a beautiful daughter around the same age as Jia and they just so happen to be great friends. Everything is a mess Namjoon-ah. What if I risk putting myself out there and it just doesn’t work out?” The busy cafe seems to go quiet for some time. Your stomach suddenly starts doing somersaults just imagining the worst possible situations. 

“And if it does?” Namjoon quickly counters. His tone is firm, forcing you to really pay attention to his following words. “Y/N we can’t possibly live a life of ‘what if’s’ because there is always a positive outcome that may come from these infinite possibilities. I don't know anything about this guy, but I can tell you really like him. Why let something this small stop you from being happy?”

“It’s easier said than done. Fuck, I don’t know. I haven’t dated anyone for this exact reason. I’m scared Joon. I like him so much. He’s perfect and I don’t want to mess up what we have right now.” You confess feeling worse than before. Maybe you should have kept this to yourself, but you would hate yourself if you did. Hoseok warned you many times about letting things like this eat you alive. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair— to you or Jungkook. 

“I understand that. But you got to put yourself out there. Give your heart a chance to love again Y/N. You deserve that much. If he turns out to be the one then he does, but if he doesn’t you will move on and I’m here if anything.” Namjoon advises grasping your hand gently in support. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I understand. Aren't you scared it won't work out with uh— sorry what’s her name?” You awkwardly question.

He scrunches his nose, smiling at your carelessness. “Dasom.”

“Yes, Dasom. You aren’t scared?” That was a great question. And it was only fair to assume everyone was scared of change, especially when it involved giving up the most vulnerable pieces belonging to yourself. 

“Of course, Y/N. I am a father after all. I fear the same things you do, but time will only tell. Like I said if she turns out to be the one then great, if not, I’ll move on. Heartbreaks are only temporary, love can be everlasting.” He expresses with wisdom, his lips forming an encouraging smile. “I’ll be happy with all I have now, whatever is to come later, life will prepare me for it.” 

You sigh, lolling your head back slightly. “You make things sound so easy.”

“Because they are. Plus, this isn’t a decision you have to make now. Think about it. Take time to really understand what it is your heart desires. Though it sounds like you have made up your mind about all this. You deserve to be happy and if happiness is found within him, then I suggest you make your move now before it’s too late.” The man drops his final advice, finishing the last of his drink. 

“Yeah, I understand. Thank you Joon-ah. For everything.” 

He smiles, content that he was able to hear you out.  “Of course Y/N. If you and Jia are happy, that is all that matters to me. I hope you find peace in your situation.”

“Yeah. Me too. Thank you again. I hope you are happy as well.” You reply, giving his hand a quick squeeze before letting it go. 

“I always am, don’t worry about me. I must go back to work now, is there anything else on your mind?” He asks eyes on his phone before turning his attention back on you. 

“No, no that’s all. Thank you for coming.” 

He shoves his jacket back on, depositing the device back into his pocket. “No problem. I’ll be picking up Jia from school tomorrow, we’ll be taking her to an aquarium this weekend. She’s been dying to go since they created an advertisement on tv for it, so it will be a sorta surprise for her. Ahh— I was going to ask, is it cool if Dasom joins us?” 

“I suggest you ask her. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. But please be attentive around her, she’s still adapting.” You reply truthfully. 

Namjoon nods, understandably. “Of course, Y/N. Thank you for today, it is always lovely meeting with you. Don’t be such a stranger.” He teases.

“You as well Namjoon-ah and I won’t. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He nods once again giving you a quick side hug before he waves his final ‘goodbye’.

—

It wasn't until you were standing outside Jungkook’s suite the next day that you became a complete nervous wreck. There wasn’t going to be a better time to talk about your feelings for Jungkook but being quite honest with yourself, how were you to tell someone who was supposed to be no more than an easy fuck that you caught feeling for them? Though it sounds harsh, it was only supposed to be just that, an easy fuck who would become only later, a blink of your memory. 

Until you met him.

Jeon Jungkook. 

Jeon Jungkook was no ordinary person. He was no ordinary fuck. He was understanding, patient, and funny. He was a father, a very attractive father. Teenagers would say he’s a dilf and he is, a dilf you so badly want to make yours. How could you tell him this without sounding utterly insane? 

“Y/N?” The man only stares at you, probably confused about your stillness. “What are you doing still standing there? Were you ever planning on knocking?”

You shake your head, stuffing your hands into your jacket. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” He moves out the way, watching you claim a spot in his freshly made bed, placing your jacket aside. “Everything alright?” 

“Yeah.” You say, the man closes the door, taking a seat across from you. 

“Um, it doesn’t look like you came for what you usually do.” He shyly admits, toying with the ends of his hair.

His shyness brought a smile to your lips. He was so cute. “Nope, no I don't.” 

“I’m sorry.” He blushes awkwardly. 

You shake your head. “No, don’t apologize. I came to talk.” 

“Talk?” His bambi eyes soften, confused. 

You nod looking down. Well, here goes fucking nothing. “Talk. I came to talk about us.” 

“Us?” You don’t bother looking up, if those eyes could do anything it would be, melt your inside out. 

“Yeah, Jungkook. I think I like you.” You lamely say. The butterflies that once lived in your stomach turned into angry rhinos roughing each other around inside the confined space, you were beyond nervous. 

“You think?” He asks, before saying anything else. 

“Sorry, I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying if I’m being honest.” You awkwardly shift in your seat. This was supposed to be easy. At least, that’s what you expected after talking to Namjoon. But you have to wrap around the idea that you’ve known Namjoon for years now, you share a kid for fuck’s sake, this isn’t someone you have much in common with besides the fact that you sometimes share the same bed. But it’s someone you’d like to know, you’d like to know how he like his eggs in the morning, whether he make a dramatic noise every time he yawns or not, if he prefer ranch or ketchup with his french fries (some even prefer ice cream), you’d just like to know it all. He’s someone whose presence kills the ambience of anything around him filling it with his own, he’s someone you simply like from what you’ve seen so far and though the situation isn’t most favorable it’s what brought you two together. He had to understand. 

And he did. “That’s okay, take your time.”

“No Jungkook, I don't need time anymore.” Your fingernails start to dig into your palm anxiously, finally you look up at the man. “It’s just hard, I guess. It's hard to say this aloud, it scares me.”

“I scare you?” Jungkook was too clueless for his own good. Who knew a grown man could be so cute? 

Honesty is key, right? 

“No Jungkook, the thought of liking you scares me. The thought of liking you and this not working out scares me. That’s what scares me.” You admit. 

“Y/N—”

You interrupt him before he gets to finish. “And I know you probably think I’m crazy, why would I like you. After all this was nothing more than just some good easy sex, I understand that well Jungkook, but I just fucking do. I like you so much that every time I see you I feel my heart beat a mile per minute. Every time you look at me, I feel I might burst into a million pieces. When you touch me, my skin burns, it burns and I like it. I enjoy it so much. You make me feel so good, so fucking good. I don't know how else to spell it out for you. I like you. I do. I caught feelings for the only person I should’ve avoided. I know how this sounds I—“

Jungkook repeats a scene you were very familiar with when you went on your anxious rants. He smoothly lays his hand behind your neck pulling you in, kissing your lips so sweetly. At first it was just one peck, but it turned into two and then three. Your eyes fluttered at the sensation, lips soft as clouds. You liked him so fucking much even when he interrupted your rants.

Slowly opening his eyes, he kissed your lips one last time admiring your cute face, pecking the small crease that settled between your brows. You could have sworn you felt your heart beating out of your chest. Jungkook was feeling so much then too, how did he ever wait this long? He didn’t let go of you then, but held on tighter, taking everything in before he began, “I like you too. I like you so fucking much. I’m scared too Y/N, so fucking scared. But no one understands what you feel like I do. I understand you, I do. I’m going through the same problem. I’m not good at saying what I feel on the spot so I hope you don’t mind me freestyling this.” 

His honesty made you giggle, driving a smile out from him. “It’s okay.” You assure him. “I don’t mind at all.” You say, poking the dimple on his face which makes him smile even wider. 

“Okay, let’s just be honest from now on. I’ve liked you for quite a while now. I’m sure that was obvious.” He shyly confesses. 

“It wasn’t. I have too.” 

He satisfyingly nods. “Well, I’m glad to hear I wasn't alone. You’re right this is difficult to admit, but honestly feels a whole lot better than keeping it in. It's scary and relieving— all at once. Confessions always lead to the scary ‘next step’. I honestly don’t like thinking too much about what continues after things. Like what does that even mean? You can’t predict endings. At least, that’s what I think. I’m more of the spontaneous type, if that makes any sense?”

“It does.” You shrug, feeling a lot of the same things he’s saying. If you were to take a guess, it’s why many people thought you were an amazing parent, only imagining Jungkook was the same from what you have seen. You would never put harsh expectations on your daughter, as long as she was happy nothing else mattered to you. You could never expect something of your daughter that you never were, even then everyone’s different. She's allowed to grow and become the individual she wants to become. You are only here to guide her and support her until the very end. 

“Well, I just find it difficult to think too hard about myself and what comes next. I like to simply do what feels right. And this— us, this feels right. It will be scary as most things are, but we can figure things out, can't we? We are parents, we do this stuff all the time.” Jungkook pleads his case, there wasn't much to argue against. 

“Yeah, that we are. I think that's the problem though. Choosing for myself, deciding what I should do next is the hardest part. There is just so much to consider. You get me?” You thoughtfully explain.

He gently nudges his nose against yours. “Yeah, completely. We have time.”

We.

You can’t help but to smile, a lot of your worries disappeared that same moment. “We do.”

“Why rush this? Let’s take it slow.” Jungkook suggests, smiling back. 

“Slow?”

“Yeah, slow.” Jungkook caresses your cheeks with his thumbs. “Slow.”

You nod, looking directly at his plush pink lips. It was almost like being stuck in a trance, one you never wanted to escape. “Slow.”

The mood shifts once Jungkook pulls you by your waist into his arms. He licks his lips before connecting with yours, though there wasn’t a rush into the kiss you could feel him everywhere. His hands engulf your thighs pulling you onto his lap. Your fingers quickly knot into his hair lazily kissing him back. Though this kiss felt different, there was no teeth clashing, no biting, it was a slow emotional, sensual kiss. 

Jungkook pauses between a kiss before asking, “Is this okay?”

You nod bringing him into your mouth once more. At this point, nearly devouring each other. 

This is where things started changing, and for once you trusted yourself. This was right, at least for now. 

The man starts palming your ass that sat perfectly against his intimate area. You boldy start grinding against his already hardened member feeling him whimper into your mouth. His palm came down heavy, suddenly striking your ass, driving a gasp from your lips as your hips came to a sudden stop. “I said slow.” His voice was strong and firm, still it was gentle. Funny how quickly the man could change, after all this is what you were both good at. 

If you weren’t already turned on before you were definitely turned on now. You could feel your pussy dripping from arousal, begging you to give her what she wanted. 

With a smile you continue, “Whatever you say.” Your hips lift up again, rocking against him a lot slower than before. He encouraged your movements by pushing you down, his tented bulge rubbing right against your aching cunt. “Fuckkk.” You whine.

Jungkook’s eyes dropped, enjoying every second. He loved watching you fall apart in his hands. His hand faintly caressed your cheek before grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Today… today you make yourself come. You think you can do that?”

You only nod, waiting for his next instructions.

“Good. Take your clothes off.” He instructs squeezing the sides of your hips, carefully pushing you on your feet, adjusting his position in bed. “Slowly baby.” 

“Slow.” You confirm, bringing your hands to your shirt, peeling it off yourself as slow as you possibly could. Jungkook didn’t dare take his eyes off. You tossed the shirt aside, next came your jeans. This time you turned around showing your backside to him and very slowly lowered your jeans, well aware of the view you were giving him as you stretched down a lot more dramatically than you usually would. 

You heard a muffled growl behind you as you stepped out of your pants. “Look at you, so fucking wet and I haven’t even touched you.” You bite your lip to avoid the moan slipping from your throat. 

Jungkook had been right. Your panties were soaked as you expected, it didn’t take much to get you going, especially when it came to Jungkook’s touch, even his voice had you going. 

“Keep the rest on.” Jungkook demands, patiently waiting for you on the bed. “Come here baby.” 

As you turn, he pats his thighs.

Once you were situated on top of his lap, left only in your bra and panties, Jungkook made it his mission to devour your lips completely. His hands made sure to keep you still on his lap, soothing your inner thighs, avoiding your sweet spot every time they went up. You only felt yourself dampening more in the process feeling sorry for Jungkook’s jeans who were paying the price of your actions, your skin prickled at the tingling sensation almost instantly. His tongue came to play eventually playing with yours, while your hands managed to run all over his hard abdomen, squeezing his thin waist. 

More.

“More, I want more.” You say popping off his swollen mouth. 

He looked down at your lips as you spoke desperately, wiping the spit that covered them. “Take it then.”

Your hands flew to his waistband but he had other plans, his hands snatched your wrists immediately. “No.”

You look at him with confusion written all over your face. Jungkook propped you up, lifting you from your waist, situating his thigh between your heat. “Fuck yourself against my thigh, sweet girl. Take what you need.”

This time you didn’t suppress the whimper in your throat. You always had a thing for Jungkook’s muscular thighs, now they were yours to make a mess of. You didn’t dare waste any more time, the instant you felt Jungkook thigh brush against your swollen bud a moan fell from your lips. Your hands rested upon his shoulders. It was embarrassing just how much you were already leaking, your flimsy panties covered almost nothing feeling the rough material of his jeans underneath you. Fisting his shirt roughly, you continued getting yourself off, rutting your dampen cunt against him. Jungkook didn’t move, he was allowing you to use him solely for your own pleasure, but he was enjoying this just as much as you were. His brows started to crease, watching you fuck yourself onto him. Your mouth had fallen open, letting high pitched moans fall from it, still you felt empty. 

Your hand dropped its grip from his shirt, cuffing his cheek instead. “More Jungkook, I need more.”

By this point, you were grinding against him frantically chasing the knot loose in your stomach. But it was so hard when your greedy pussy was begging for his cock. 

He bit his lip at the sight, sweat had started to form against your forehead, your cheeks were burning, a hungry gaze set upon him as he watched you ride his thigh desperately. 

“No baby. You’re almost there, keep going.” Jungkook croaks, sucking in his breath. His friend was as hard as stone by now, but it was so worth every minute of it. 

You shook your head, releasing a shaky breath through your nose. “No Jungkook, f-fuck. I can't.”

“You can baby, you can.” He cooed, his finger brushing your cheek. “Come for me baby.”

That was all it took for your knot to explode. Your thighs started to shake, feeling your juices slip from your sex beautifully. You threw your head back slightly, moaning through your high. Smirking smugly, Jungkook propped his thigh against your gushing pussy helping you through the last of it. 

“Oh fuckkkk. Nghh.” Your voice made sweet sounds releasing your sweet essence. “Mmhhh.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Jungkook’s dick twitched inside his pants, nearly coming from the view, the poor material beneath you became a damp mess. “That’s it, make a mess sweet girl.” 

When you finally came down from your high, your attention immediately caught the puddled wet spot you left on Jungkook’s thigh. 

“Jungkook your pants. I— I’m sorry.” Immediately apologizing for the mess left behind. 

Jungkook grabs your cheeks once more, caressing them softly. “Don't apologize about that baby. Such a pretty mess. Next time, I want that mess all over my mouth, but not right now. I won't tease you any longer. I’ll treat you real soon baby.” 

You nodded, feeling faint from the intensity of your orgasm.

Jungkook smiled. “Lay down for me sweet girl. I’ll take care of you.” 

You drop into the sheets, exhausted. 

“You think you can handle one more orgasm baby?” Jungkook sweetly calls. “We can stop here.” 

“No, no.” You shake your head. “M’ fine.” 

Jungkook chuckles. “Okay sweet girl, you’ve been so good. I’ll make you feel even better.”

He always knew how to keep his promises. You were extremely happy seeing as Jungkook started stripping his clothing off, you as well took the last two pieces that covered your lady parts off, not minding where they landed. 

The man didn’t waste time reaching for a condom, he was quick to place the rubber onto his length. It didn’t take long for him to situate himself between your legs looking down for your consent. “This still okay sweetheart?”

You nod desperately. “Please.”

Not teasing any further, he eased himself inside you, immediately feeling the stretch of his big cock delve into your pussy, wrapping around the crown of his head nicely. 

“Fuck.” You both moaned synchronously. His eyes looking right into yours as he dove in further, he could only imagine what you must feel like with no condom. Spreading your legs out further he set a slow pace, taking his time with his movements. By this point, you were overstimulated to the max, but he felt so good regardless. 

“You okay baby?” Jungkook asks, attentive. 

You peck his lips, nodding. “I can handle it.” 

He chuckled, only fucking deeper into your pussy. The man sure knew how to use his cock well. “Oh I know you can, baby. Always take me so fucking well.”

The man doesn’t slow down but instead goes faster. He rolls his hips heavenly, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. He did not hold back once, letting his own beautiful melodies fall from his lips. You quickly learned his whimpers and moans were your favorite songs. You wanted to become his personal cockslut for life if this is what it took to hear his pretty sounds daily. Good thing you were all his, as he was yours. 

You think?

“Kook… fuh-fuck.” You whine feeling his huge dick greedily caress your tight walls. 

He almost came to a stop hearing the nickname being used especially during sex, he didn’t even like the nickname as his friends would tease him by using it to annoy him but coming from your mouth, he liked everything, so he kept going. “What happened baby?”

Suddenly, you started feeling very insecure. “W-what are we?”

He seemed confused but quickly understood. “We can be whatever you want us to be, baby. We can go as slow as you want us to go. You tell me angel.” His movements were much slower, being very careful. 

Your eyes start watering at his softness and carefulness, still making you feel so good nonetheless. “You’re mine right?” 

Jungkook’s eyes softened, lifting his hand to your cheek. “Yes baby, yes. All yours. I’m yours.” He leaned forward taking your lips into his, making love to them. Your hand tightened its grip on his hair tugging him as close as possible as if he wasn’t deep in your guts.

He was all yours. How did you get so lucky? Jungkook was thinking the same. Jungkook always questioned life, always felt he was missing something from it. This was that. He was missing you all this life. You two weren’t even fucking anymore. This was sealing that deal. The deal you started a few months back. This has never been a quick fuck, not when you two were nearly making love to one another, night after night. He was all yours as you were his.

You detach yourself from his mouth, bringing your mouth to the birthmark on his neck. You always wanted to kiss it, but didn’t dare want to overstep any boundaries before, but now there were nearly none. You softly peck the cute dot then bring your lips closer to his jawline right at his sweet spot sucking on it with purpose. You were only claiming what was yours. Selfishly, you wanted the whole world to know that Jeon Jungkook (aka DILF JEON) was no longer available. 

Jungkook moaned, no longer focusing as much about the situation between your legs. His rolls started to get lazy and desperate all at the same time. He was close. He was aching for a release. 

You gasp into his neck as he sets a brutal pace no longer having any mercy for your poor lady friend, he is determined. He bit his lip at the feel of your tight pussy sucking him in so deliciously. “Oh fuck, Kook. Nghh…”

The sound of skin slapping against each other fills the room, he lets out his own grunts. “Fuck baby, keep saying my name.”

“J—jungkook, Jungkoook. I’m gonna fucking come.” You whimper. “Don't stop, please.”

His hips snap harder into you, faster, filling you to the fucking brim. “Can you feel how much I like you? Tell me you can feel me.” 

You can barely move but you nod the best you can at that point in time, he was deep in your guts. Your inner thighs were burning from the stretch, but this feeling was always worth it. “Kook, I’m so close.” 

“I know baby, I know.” He brings his forehead on top of yours looking down at the mess between your legs. “Come all over this cock angel, let me hear those pretty sounds.” 

Finally, you felt a wave of pleasure hit your body. Almost immediately your mouth falls open, moaning throughout the release. He fell close behind you, thrusting into you powerfully until the very end. Jungkook grunts as his climax approaches him, spilling himself into the condom. 

All that you both could do after was catch your breath. Jungkook very carefully slipped from inside you careful of your sensitive afterglow, ripping the condom off, almost instantly falling beside you. The man tossed the rubber into the trash, letting himself fall limp into the bed, you followed his calm state. 

“You okay?” Jungkook asks in between breaths. 

“Never better.” You breathe, both smiling though facing the ceiling. “No cleaning up Jeon? This isn’t you.”

He laughs at the use of his last name. “On it, Ms. Y/L/N.”

He immediately stands on his feet, bringing back to you a wet rag, very gentle when cleaning the mess between your legs, even the once clean and fresh sheets got a taste of you.

After getting rid of the filthy bedsheets to replace them with clean ones, and changing into more comfortable clothes (though you insisted Jungkook that he didn't need to let you borrow any clothing) you both laid back in bed, this time facing one another. Talking after sex became a habit, one you now enjoy participating in happily. 

“And she basically argued with me all morning about how she could beat me in a game of basketball.” Jungkook ends his sentence in a sassy tone. 

“Kook, you cannot be serious. You argued with a seven year old… about basketball…” You pose. 

“Yes. She started it.” Sounding like a whole five year old himself. He was definitely a character. 

“Well, little baby. Maybe she can beat you if you are this upset about it.” 

He gasps completely offended. “How dare you take her side already? We just started dating and this is how you betray me? Shame on you.”

You giggle, fingers playing with his soft hair. “Is that what we are doing? Hmm. Dating?”

He nods. “Yup, we skipped a few bases. Nothing we can’t do to make it up though.”

“Mm, I don’t know Jeon. I’m pretty picky when it comes to this stuff. I expect only the best from men I date.” You shrug, sounding uninterested. 

He pulls you closer, entangling your body on top of his. “Please baby, don’t underestimate me. I’ll make it up to you.” 

You smile pecking his lips just once. He smiled right after you. Then pure admiration came. You both didn’t speak, just admired each other so up close and personal. 

This is what he’s been missing. 

It’s you. 

“Stay.” Jungkook says, his hands caressing your back. “Spend the night.”

“I don’t know… you snore.” You tease kissing his cute nose. 

“No, I don't.” He scrunches his nose in an attempt to look angry, but in reality he looked even cuter. You don’t understand his duality just yet, but it was definitely something you could get used to. 

“No you don't, baby.” You coo, kissing him sweetly all over his cheeks to hear that precious giggle of his. “Fine, you convinced me, I’ll stay.” 

“YAY!” He cutely yells. 

“Only if you promise to buy me breakfast tomorrow.” You tap his nose gently.

“Anything you want.” He promises with the sweetest doe-eyes. 

“Anything?” 

He nods, dimples poking out as he smiles. “Anything.”

You don’t even bother to keep the conversation going. You trust him and in his arms you fall asleep that night. Though you fell into a deep sleep, you could swear you felt kisses to your cheeks during the warm night. 

Maybe this was a lot easier than you expected. 

Loving Jungkook was not scary at all. Actually, loving Jungkook was easy and you were willing to make this work. 

“Goodnight baby.” Jungkook whispers, delivering a kiss to your cheek. 

For now, you settle for that.

--

a.n: omg hello everyone and im sorry this was incredibly late >.<

bts has done so much since the last time i updated sooo everything has been a bit crazy. i hope everyone is doing well.

thank you to those that reached out to me during the time i was gone i’ve missed updating sm. i’m so happy to be back.

i’ll be honest with you all, i’ve been working on another project so i hope to post that here soon ! with that being said please enjoy this update !

thank you for waiting my loves <3

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

Breakfast at Dieter's

Words: 858

Summary: Dieter just finished doing night shoots and invites you out for breakfast

Warnings: it’s mostly lots of fluff, does Dieter being insanely adorable count?

Check out masterlist here

Have you had breakfast yet?

That was the first thing you read that morning. Your phone pinged almost as soon as it was turned on. It had been like that the past five days. Dieter had been doing night shoots and would send you random messages while he was bored between scenes. You’d get them in the morning and replied to every one of them, so he’d have something to read when he woke up. It felt like a strange time loop style film but in the romantic genre, not horror. You smiled at every message you received and imagined him doing the same.

Nope, just got up. Why are you asking?

You had a day off, thankfully not doing night shoots. Medical dramas had normal working hours. They also like how medically accurate you were as a lot of medical students had communicated in the past how bad the on-screen diseases were depicted. They have since given praise on the new look of the sick characters. So, they definitely kept you on as makeup artist.

I just finished my last night of shooting and want to celebrate with breakfast. Would you maybe like to join me if you don’t have plans?

This was followed by a GIF of a kitten looking at the screen with big eyes. Most of the messages you’d gotten were mostly silly pictures which were strangely so much like Dieter. It made you miss his silly adorable face.

Well, I had planned on having a smoothie, so you’d have to tempt me.

You and Dieter were at that cute flirting and teases era of your relationship. Now that you were past the should-I-kiss-them stage, it was just being sickeningly cute and comfortable with each other.

Well, I’ve got a huge appetite so I’m going to order heaps with possible leftovers.

He’d been subjected to an action movie diet. He had to possibly eat less that his female co-stars to keep that stereotypical action man physique, even though he didn’t have to go shirtless. You were constantly bombarded with pictures of his measly meals with woeful commentary. You would then tease him with your much happier looking meals making him ever more woeful. All texts read out of context would sound almost sinful and confusing.

Well, I do like your leftovers…

He really did like his food as much as you did. The only problem was you still were not used to American portion sizes. Usually, you’d only manage half and feeling bad for not cleaning your plate. That problem was solved as soon as Dieter came along. It took a little experimentation to figure out how much to order between the two of you, but you found a way to order enough to share.

I’m going to my favourite diner if you’d like to join me?

He told you about this place he’d go to after shooting sometimes. Dieter loved old Hollywood and one day promised you a history tour of old L.A. His favourite was Googie architecture mainly because it had a funny name but also for the retro style. He loved this diner because it was reminiscent of old films. You hadn’t been yet, waiting to go with Dieter so he could go into history teacher mode. You could watch him lecture for hours. You found the address and made your way over.

It was just like he described it, straight out of a vintage Hollywood film. A waitress who herself looked like she just stepped out of a retro film came sauntering over.

“Can I help you doll?” she even had the accent.

“Uh, yeah I’m looking for Dieter?”

She pointed to the furthest booth, so you wandered over. It was quiet that time of the morning, the hour not quite ready for anything yet. Dieter was naturally napping away. It felt almost cruel to wake him, but you gently shook his knee. He startled and rubbed his eyes which lit up as soon as he saw you. He got up and embraced you, enveloping you in his warmth.

“You came?”

“I said I would.”

“Is it too early to kiss you?” he blushed like a man still unused to not being rejected.

“Never!”

He smiled then gave you a kiss as soft and welcoming as the sunrise. He shuffled back into the booth and snuggled you close, not wanting to let go of you now that you were here.

“I like that you’re here.”

“I like that I’m here.”

Noses were nudging at this point, but they sadly separated when the waitress brought in Dieter’s breakfast.

“Here you go doll, eggs, bacon, toast, home fries and pancakes along with apple juice. Anything else I can get for you?”

“Could I possibly get some hot tea?” you asked.

“Sure thing” she turned to Dieter, “Is this the girl you’re always talking about?”

He proudly nodded as she looked back to you, “Hon, this man does not shut up about you. That’s a sign of being in love if I ever saw it.”

She shuffled off leaving you to look at him, “You told her about me?”

“How could I not?”

Lovingly tagging @boliv-jenta @simpingcowboy @ellenmunn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @brilliantopposite187 @chaithetics @myloveistoolittle @cevans-is-classic

[sweatandwoe]

i would like to ask about the smug smirk please (also insanely excited for professor terzo to return to me 🥹)

Did talk about the Smug smirk here, so how about some professor Terzo? Under cut cause, uh, well you'll see

-

The classroom is cold and empty for the following week. It’s to be expected, he is done teaching and now all that was left was the examination. Done by different clergy members to show that there was no favoritism in the ranks. 

Because Terzo has a clear favorite: the sibling currently bent naked over his desk. 

His hand roams over your back, enjoying the slight tremor at his touch. You’ve been laid out before him for the better part of half an hour, and occasionally he will touch you. After all, he had his exam papers to grade, and pleasuring you would be a fine reward when they were done. 

The retired Papa is honestly just happy you passed. He knew you would - but, he had been tempted to sneak into your room to give you a private study lesson. Next semester he thinks, if you take another class. If not, he will simply keep coming back to give you a refresher because he does not think he can let go of you. Not when you’re so pliant beneath his hands, giving such soft noises as he only runs his fingers over your skin. So sensitive under his gloved touch. 

“I’m almost done grading these, Cara.” Yes, he’s not going to give you up, he thinks. Not when your eyes snap to his own at his voice, so eager for him. It’s not unusual for him to take a paramour for a time, but you’re so soft and sweet with this secret dirty side that he may keep you even longer. If you’ll have him, that is. “You’re being so good for me.”