#so for it to end on such an AMAZING note no less

[collophora]

Do yourself a favor and go read the entire fanfic work of @fanfoolishness

(In order: Under sun and shade, Blind Side, and Breathless (patching up is one of my fav too, I just had no cool sketch idea for it)

[themurphyzone]

Son of Darkwing AU: Just Like You Ch 1

Summary: AU where DT17!Drake Mallard is the son of famous actor Jim Starling aka the original Darkwing Duck.

Eight-year old Drake Starling looks up to his father, who happens to be his favorite superhero, Darkwing Duck. To a smaller than average, timid duckling often bullied by his peers, Darkwing is everything he wants to be when he grows up. He's handsome, brave, and confident, but most importantly, he always stands up for what's right no matter what.

If only the rest of the world could see that side of Darkwing too.

AN: I just found the Jim Starling is Drake’s father AU concept too interesting to pass up writing a story on. Plus I just wanted to take a break from my usual fandom and write something different. There will be a short epilogue after this that will be posted in the next day or two.

AO3 Link

“My dad is a superhero! He always says the coolest things and saves the day and beats up the bad guys and gets to kiss Morgana!”  

Drake grinned to his second grade class, proudly displaying his drawing of Darkwing Duck perched dutifully on the St. Canard Clocktower, his keen eyes surveying the fair city below for evildoers, purse-snatchers, and shoppers who had eleven items in the ten items or less lane at the grocery store. 

How many other kids could claim their father regularly braved the rough waves of St. Canard Pier to fight a waterlogged mutt, engaged in intense physical and mental training to build his immunity to the poisons and powders of a professor turned mutant plant, broached terrifying tornadoes and thunderstorms to reach the megalomaniacal Megavolt, and locked away thieving jesters for copyright infringement? 

Well, Drake didn’t know what copyright infringement was, but it was definitely a most dastardly, devious, and despicable act if it caught Darkwing Duck’s attention!

In the front row, a bulldog pup barked out a harsh laugh. 

“Darkwing’s not real, you dork!” Brandon Barker snorted, his elbow thumping the table with a loud thud. “You can’t actually believe these things!” 

His friends snickered behind their hands, and Drake’s wide grin slipped away. He shuffled his feet, cheek feathers growing warm with embarrassment. His hands shook and crinkled his drawing at the edges. 

“O-of course he’s real!” Drake protested. All eyes were on him, and his heart pounded with the fear of losing their support. He spread his purple coat out on each side, imitating Darkwing’s billowing cape against the night wind. “He’s the terror who flaps in the night, the wrench of justice in the inner workings of villainy, t-the engine that, um, I meant he’s the elephant in the living room of slime…no, crime!”  

Brandon Barker’s laughter rang in his ears, loud and mocking and shameless. 

Drake clutched the drawing to his chest, trying not to ruin Darkwing Duck in the center of the paper. 

Only a handful of his classmates applauded his presentation, more out of politeness than anything else. Three girls were whispering and passing notes to each other, Phillip Trotski in the back row was asleep, and everyone who wasn’t friends with Brandon stared blankly at the ticking of the clock as the end of the school day drew closer by the second. 

My Dad is the most amazing duck in the world. Why can’t any of you see that? 

Drake stared at the trash can by Mrs. Crane’s desk, tilting his head so his classmates couldn’t see the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He didn’t want to give them another reason to laugh at him. 

There were already too many. 

He flinched at the sharp, loud slap of a ruler hitting the desk. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it, Mrs. Crane always did that when she wanted them to pay attention, but it never failed to be a frightening noise. 

“Don’t laugh at your classmates’ presentations, Brandon. Quincy. Issac.” Mrs. Crane scolded, giving each boy a stern look of disapproval. Quincy and Issac sank in their seats, embarrassed to be caught. Brandon only pouted, not looking sorry at all. “Next Monday, you will each spend five minutes in the corner at recess and think about your behavior.” 

“But Mrs. Crane-”  Brandon protested, though Mrs. Crane quickly cut him off. 

“Ten minutes.” 

Brandon’s elbow thumped onto his desk. “Stupid Drakey,” he mumbled. 

Drake covered his face with one hand, shielding himself from Brandon’s scornful glare. 

Mrs. Crane stood up so quickly that her chair flew behind her and slammed against the whiteboard. Her long, thin shadow fell across Brandon, who shot a pleading look at Quincy and Issac, but the other boys inched their desks away from Mrs. Crane’s wrath. 

“Young man,” she said icily, in the tone Darkwing himself would use on a villain if they’d committed an especially heinous crime. “I will be speaking to your parents later. And you will spend the next week indoors, copying the dictionary instead of playing basketball with your friends.” 

Nobody, not even Brandon, dared to speak. The class gathered their books, backpacks, and belongings with less enthusiasm than usual when the final bell rang at three. 

Drake stayed by the teacher’s desk, unwilling to pack up just yet. He knew he’d wind up tripping over a pencil or backpack strap or somebody’s outstretched leg if he tried to return to his desk in the middle row. 

“Drake,” Mrs. Crane said quietly, so that his classmates wouldn’t hear as they were ushered out of the room by a teacher’s aide. “Stay behind for a moment. I won’t keep you long if you’re taking the bus home.” 

Drake gulped. Did she know he’d fallen asleep during reading time?  

“I-I’m not, Mrs. Crane,” Drake stammered. “Dad’s picking me up today.”

He’d never been alone in the classroom with Mrs. Crane before, and seeing that he barely came up to her waist made him nervous. He was the shortest in the class, which only gave his bullies even more reasons to pick on him. 

To his relief, Mrs. Crane pulled her chair around and sat down. She still towered over him, but Drake felt like he could breathe a little easier now. 

“You were supposed to talk about a hero in your life,” she said, peering down her long bill at him. Drake wilted at the disappointment in her voice. “Not one on a silly TV show.” 

But Darkwing wasn’t silly. And it wasn’t for little kids either. 

“...but my dad is Darkwing Duck,” Drake said meekly, picking at a loose thread on his coat. Nobody seemed to understand that. “He’s a hero.” 

His dad always threw the bad guys in jail and saved St. Canard. He was cool, confident, and never gave up even when all hope was lost. What part of that wasn’t heroic? 

“Your…father…plays a hero,” Mrs. Crane corrected, shaking her head like the word ‘father’ disgusted her.  “Being a hero in real life is completely different.” 

Drake tilted his head. Wasn’t Dad a hero all the time? There really wasn’t much of a difference. 

“How?” he asked, more confused than ever. 

Mrs. Crane only took their spelling quizzes from the basket on her desk and laid them out. “I’m afraid you’ll have to find that answer for yourself,” she replied. She uncapped her red pen and began to mark the paper. “Run along now.” 

The conversation was over. Drake shuffled to the back of the classroom and retrieved his Darkwing Duck backpack. It was large on him, covering his back like a turtle’s shell. Sure, he had to stoop a bit while he wore it, but he didn’t mind. 

He slid his Darkwing drawing, homework folder, the Mystifying Mystery of the Missing Mare library book he’d checked out earlier that day, and his pencil case into the backpack. 

Packing up in peace was nice. 

For once, nobody tried to steal his pencils or knock the library books off his desk. 

“Drake?” Mrs. Crane called as he opened the classroom door, ready to leave now that he had everything.

Startled, Drake turned around so quickly that he almost fell beakfirst onto the floor. 

“You’re getting much better at speaking in front of your classmates,” Mrs. Crane said. A rare smile tugged at the corner of her beak. “Good job.” 

While Darkwing Duck would’ve made a triumphant speech, Drake could only stammer out a thank you and hurry out the door. 

Mrs. Crane’s words followed him down the hallway, only confusing him more with every step he took. 

Playing a hero? Being a hero? Dad is a hero! Why doesn’t anyone believe me when I tell them? 

He got weird looks whenever he told people that his dad was the one and only Darkwing Duck. 

Kids laughed at him. The grown-ups would just give him odd, pitying looks. Even the adults at Golden Goose Studios changed the subject when he tried to describe Dad’s awesome rapidfire karate chops that took down Megajack, a villainous fusion of Megavolt and Quackerjack. 

But nobody ever believed him. 

He sucked in a breath as he joined the other kids outside. It was always crowded out here after school. Several teachers kept a watchful eye on everyone as they played on the stone steps and grassy hills surrounding the building. Two long lines of cars waited in the parking lot, parents shouting for their kids from open windows so they could get out as fast as possible.  

Drake perched on his tiptoes, staying at the very top of the staircase so Dad could see him. It was lonely up here, but he needed to stay separate from the crowd so he wouldn’t be lost. 

Okay, don’t lose focus! Drake Starling must be ever-vi…what was that word Darkwing always used again? Vigilicious? I think that was it! Drake Starling must be ever-vigilicious when searching the streets below for his transport! 

He didn’t see Dad’s car anywhere. 

Drake fiddled with the straps of his backpack as one classmate after another left with their parents. Dad’s filming sessions tended to run long, so Drake tended to be one of the last kids to be picked up if it was his turn. 

He understood why Dad couldn’t make it on time, even though he sometimes worried that he’d have to sleep on the school stairs overnight, like the people who camped out in tents and sleeping bags downtown. 

Suddenly, there was a loud, screeching honk from a silver van, and the kids along the sidewalk leapt back in shock. The van window rolled down, revealing a large, furious boar with a pair of sharp tusks that poked out from his bottom lip. 

“Watch where you’re going, you weirdo!” the boar roared, shaking his fist at a purple-clad duck with a large fedora and long, flowing cape who’d crossed in front of his van. 

“Dad!” Drake exclaimed, heart leaping with excitement. He’d finished early for once! And he’d even come as Darkwing Duck!

None of his other classmates could say Darkwing Duck picked them up from school!

“The crosswalk light was green! How ‘bout you watch where you’re going, porky?” Dad snapped, storming up to the window of the angry boar. He jabbed a finger at the boar’s snout, a fist clenched at his side. “Don’t you know who I am?”

“I’m up here, Dad!” Drake shouted, waving his arms and jumping as high as possible so Dad could see him above everyone else. “Over here! Look this wa-aaaaayyyyy!” 

He leaned too far over the step, screaming as his beak painfully collided with stone. He tasted gravel in his mouth, knees stinging as they smacked against each bumpy step all the way to the bottom of the staircase. 

With his unexpected freefall at an end, Drake laid beneath his heavy backpack, unable to stand on his own. Grit clung to his knees and elbows, and his peers’ legs and feet crowded around him. 

Dozens of eyes bored into him. Shocked whispers and gasps rippled through his onlookers. 

Then came Brandon Barker’s howl of laughter, loud and mocking and cruel. 

Drake wanted to pull his head and limbs inside his backpack like a turtle and never come out again. 

This wasn’t the sort of attention he wanted. 

He’d have to figure out how to eat and drink and watch his favorite shows under here-

“EVERYONE BACK OFF MY KID IF YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU!” 

Drake gasped at that heroic, commanding voice that always forced a crowd to stop and listen no matter what they were doing. And it wasn’t just any other heroic, commanding voice either! 

“Dad!” Drake exclaimed. He sprung up, the scrapes on his knees not bothering him in the slightest as he pounced upon his dad’s waist. “You’re early!” 

“Agh-hey!” Dad made a choking noise, his body stiff as a board in Drake’s hug before he managed to pry him off. “Watch the suit, kid. It’s freshly ironed. Can’t have you or anyone else wrinkling it.” 

Drake inhaled a light, fresh scent from the awe-inspiring Darkwing outfit. “Your suit smells funny! Um, I mean funny in a nice way! It’s not bad or anything! I like it!” he exclaimed, quickly backpedaling when Dad raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, that makes one of us,” Dad sighed, his long beak crinkling in distaste. “My clueless costume designers refuse to understand that Darkwing Duck does not require carnation scented freshener while fighting the cantankerous criminals of St. Canard. Besides, it clogs his beak.”

He sneezed loudly, a shower of droplets hitting an unfortunate young cardinal in the face. 

“Ewww, gross!” the cardinal stuck his tongue out in disgust. He wiped the droplets onto his shirt and stumbled away. 

Everyone else backed up and gave them a wide berth. 

Dad rolled his eyes. “Kids these days,” he grumbled. “Can’t even handle the slightest inconvenience.” 

Drake grinned, unable to stop bouncing on his toes. “Or see how cool your costume is?” 

“Heh. That too,” Dad let out a short, hacking laugh, ruffling the feathery tuft on Drake’s head. A strong arm wrapped around Drake’s shoulders and led him away from the school. “Let’s get outta this dump, sport. I parked the Ratcatcher by the soccer field. Less crowded over there. Don’t want any of these uncultured yokels ruining the paint job.” 

If this was a dream, then he never wanted to wake up again. He was finally getting to ride in the ultimate criminal-catching contraption of all time! Auntie never allowed Dad to take him for a ride no matter how much Drake begged, even within studio grounds. She always said it was too dangerous, as if she didn’t remember who she was talking to. But Dad always listened to her, even though he complained about it all the time. 

“You finally convinced Auntie to let me ride in the Ratcatcher with you?” Drake asked eagerly. “She told me I wasn’t big enough last time I asked her! I don’t think she knows I grew a whole two inches last summer!” 

He puffed out his chest proudly and lifted his beak in the triumphant pose Darkwing Duck would strike at the end of an episode. 

“Oh, I convinced her alright!” Dad proclaimed. “I’ve honed my persuasion techniques to a highly advanced art form. No actress or criminal alive stands a chance against good old-fashioned Darkwing charm!” 

He pumped his fist into the air, and Drake copied his action with a cheer, only to leap out of his feathers when a car honked loudly. 

“GET OFF THE ROAD, FREAK!” a bulldog woman roared, leaning out the open window of her minivan and fixing them with a furious glare. 

With a firm shove, Drake was swept behind his father protectively. Drake stumbled, clinging to Dad’s cape to avoid her ire. He saw Dad’s deep frown, his defensive stance, his powerful fists balled, and Drake knew that if he was going to be anything like Darkwing Duck someday, he couldn’t just hide behind Dad’s cape whenever he was scared. 

He had to try and be the bravest duckling ever. 

Tightly gripping the cape between his fingers, Drake carefully peered out from behind his dad. 

You can do this, Drake. All you have to do is get dange- 

Then Drake locked eyes with Brandon Barker, who gave him a toothy smirk and pounded his fist into the palm of his hand. Drake yelped and hid himself from view, already dreading the day Brandon would follow through on his threat. 

“Yeah! Get off the road, freaks!” Brandon taunted, his upper body hanging out the window, jowls flapping in the breeze. 

“Sit, Brandon!” the female bulldog snapped, and a strange, panicked expression crossed the bully’s face before he obeyed. “I’m already dealing with one costumed clown. I don’t have the patience for another.”

“Clown?” Dad shouted, feathers puffing out in outrage. “Broken any mirrors lately with your horrendous makeup job, you bi-” 

A passing duck covered her daughter’s ears and hurried her to the sidewalk, glaring at Dad the entire time. 

“-iiiiiiiig jerk. That’s what I was gonna say!” Dad called to the other parent, who quickly bundled her child into a nearby car. 

“Buncha braindead morons. Don’t have the decency to recognize a Starling when they see one,” Dad muttered. He grabbed Drake’s shoulder, roughly guiding him towards the soccer field. 

The car sped off, a cloud of smoke and dust left in its wake. 

Freak. 

Why couldn’t anyone else see Dad as a hero? He was brave and tough and smart, a master of twenty-five kinds of martial arts, and always knew exactly what to say and do when a villain threatened St. Canard. 

Drake couldn’t defend himself or Dad without being ignored, teased, or getting odd looks from teachers. Even his uncles stumbled over their words when they spoke about Dad. 

An engine roared to life. 

“Hey, sport,” Dad called. He was perched atop the Ratcatcher, hands already on the handlebars, looking even cooler in real life than his promotional photos.

Drake blinked, not realizing they’d made it to the Ratcatcher at all. He’d only seen the motorcycle from the sidelines or on a television screen before, and it was much bigger than he expected. He took a step back, not wanting to be engulfed in its shadow. 

Dad gave him a confident grin, gesturing to the sidecar where he’d normally give tied up criminals a ride to prison. 

“You’re speechless. I understand completely,” he said, patting the sleek hood of the Ratcatcher fondly. “But you’re not going anywhere if you insist on standing by with your beak open.”

His words washed over Drake, and despite his worries, Drake knew his dad was right. If he wanted to achieve his dream of riding in the Ratcatcher, then he’d have to climb in first. 

With a burst of confidence, Drake jumped into the sidecar. For a moment, he struggled to clear the metal wall completely, but he took a deep breath and pushed against it. He yelped, falling onto the seat with his feet above his head. 

Maybe I should’ve taken my backpack off first, Drake thought, unable to move from his awkward position. 

“A little help, Dad?” he asked meekly. 

Sighing, Dad let the engine idle before he grabbed the handle of Drake’s backpack and pulled him upright. Though it was rough, Drake bit back a yelp, not wanting to disappoint his hero.

But the uneasy feeling only became worse when he didn’t see anything he could use to protect his head. 

“Shouldn’t I have a helmet? What if something happens?” Drake asked, hiking his backpack over his head just in case. He thought of a commercial he’d seen the day before, where a kid hadn’t worn his helmet while riding his bike and had to be taken to the hospital with a nasty cut to his forehead. The image made his stomach churn. 

“You worry too much, kid. Nothing’s gonna happen,” Dad assured him. 

o-o-o-o

Drake played with the Quackerjack toy he’d gotten from his Hungry Hungry Hippo Meal, trying to avoid the stern glare of the police officer, a tall, broad-chested bald eagle who could probably rip through steel with the talons on his feet alone. Dark shades covered his eyes. His navy uniform displayed the letters SCPD on his sleeve, surrounded by stars. 

“James Starling,” the eagle drawled. “It’s been a while.” 

“Hello, Sammy,” Dad mimicked the eagle’s accent, one leg crossed over the other as he ate his bacon cheeseburger. “Still can’t get my name right, I see. It’s just Jim. Always has been, and that’s the name I plan to use for my star on the Walk of Fame.” 

The eagle took his dark shades off and flicked them shut with a sharp snap, clipping them to the front of his uniform. 

“That’s Officer Skye to you,” he said coldly. The temperature inside Hamburger Hippo seemed to drop several degrees. 

Drake shivered, and he fed a waffle fry to Quackerjack to avoid the annoyed looks Dad and Officer Skye gave each other. 

Even villains need to eat so they have enough energy to carry out their evil plan….

“Ran out of donuts to chase, Sammy?” Dad scoffed. “Or is there another reason you wanted to interrupt our father-son bonding time? I don’t appreciate being tailed to the parking lot of this joint.” 

Officer Skye reached into his pocket, pulling out a small notepad and pen. “Hope your idea of bonding time doesn’t include jail, Starling.” 

“...jail?” Drake whispered, staring in horror at Officer Skye, who continued writing in his notepad. The eagle wouldn’t look him in the eye. 

Why? Only villains go to jail, and Dad’s not a villain! 

Then Drake spotted a pair of handcuffs peeking out from Officer Skye’s belt, and he quickly latched onto Dad’s arm so he couldn’t be arrested. 

Dad made an odd, strangled gasp as he struggled to free his arm. 

“What the-hey, let go of my arm, kiddo! You’re getting ketchup all over my blazer!” 

But Drake only clung to his arm tighter than before. “Y-you can’t take my dad to jail, officer! It was…um, probably a frame job!” 

Both grown-ups stared at him, and Drake shrank away at the attention. 

“A frame job,” Officer Skye repeated in disbelief. 

Dad only shrugged. 

“You know, like the first episode of Darkwing Duck!” Drake explained. Why didn’t the grown-ups understand? “A bunch of thieves framed Darkwing for robbing a train and he had to break himself out of jail! Then he proved the thieves were behind the whole plot and the police commissioner apologized to Darkwing for jailing him!” 

A hand closed Drake’s bill and held it shut. 

“Kids,” Dad chuckled to Officer Skye, whose beak was twisted into a frown. “Always saying the most interesting things when they should probably be quiet.” 

His voice dipped low, his tone a warning, like a snake waiting to strike. Drake let go of his father’s blazer, spooked by the strange sound.

“I see you’ve done nothing to correct your son’s impression of the justice system, Starling,” Officer Skye drawled. “Is he at all aware that law enforcement does not require the help of reckless, gloryhounding vigilantes to arrest criminals, unlike your ridiculous show?” 

“RIDICULOUS?” Dad shrieked, feathers ruffling in outrage. He leapt upwards, standing on his chair and glaring at Officer Skye. His posture was rigid, hands clenched into fists. “DARKWING DUCK IS THE PEAK OF TELEVISION, YOU NUT!” 

The entire restaurant fell silent, their attention on Dad and Officer Skye. Drake shrank away from their scrutiny, curling up in his chair and trying to appear even smaller than he already was. A mother stood up and dragged her two children away by their arms. By the soda machine, a goose hadn’t noticed his drink was overflowing. 

The stillness was only broken by a surprised duckling, whose brown hair was tied back with a large pink bow. 

Molly Clearwater, Drake realized, and he prayed Molly wouldn’t recognize him. She never stops talking! Everyone at school’s gonna find out….

“Dad! Dad! That’s Drake from school!” she shouted, dashing Drake’s hopes immediately. “Why’s he with that purple weirdo? Why’s the policeman so mad at them? How come-oomph!” 

Molly’s dad quickly clamped his hand around her bill. 

Drake wanted to sink into the ground and never come out again. Their whispers and stares cut through him, and he couldn’t ignore them no matter how much he tried. 

Even Officer Skye was watching him. 

Am I going to jail too? 

Would he have to learn how to sleep on an uncomfortable piece of wood? Or be forced to wear nothing but black and white stripes forever? 

Slowly, Drake peered up at the officer, whose expression seemed…different. 

Softer. Less harsh. 

Then Officer Skye turned to his notepad and wrote something down. He ripped the top sheet and slapped it onto Dad’s bill. 

Dad sputtered in surprise, the chair wobbling when he nearly lost his footing. He ripped the paper off the edge of his bill, crumpling it under his fist. 

“And just what is this supposed to be?” Dad spat. He waved the paper in Officer Skye’s face. 

“A speeding ticket and a list of citations,” Officer Skye replied, and Dad’s bill dropped to the ground in shock. “You were twenty miles above the speed limit, in addition to you and your child not wearing a helmet, lack of a front license plate, and disturbing the peace.” 

Dad’s eyes widened as he hurriedly read the paper. He mumbled under his breath in disbelief before scowling at Officer Skye. 

“What, you boys in blue don’t have any muggings to stop or medal ceremonies to attend?” he scoffed. “This is extortion! I won’t be swindled out of my hard-earned cash! Expect a call from my lawyer in the near future!” 

Officer Skye stepped forward, his hooked beak pushing against Dad’s long bill. “There is one reason and one reason alone why I’m not placing you in cuffs right now. So I suggest you start acting like the role model you portray yourself to be. See you in court, Starling.” 

Before Dad could respond, Officer Skye walked out of the restaurant. Within a minute, his police car peeled out of the parking lot and disappeared around the corner. 

Slowly, everyone returned to their meals and conversations, chatter filling in the silence once again. The grownups gave annoyed glances at Dad, while others gave Drake a strange, pitying look. 

Drake wished they’d pay attention to their food instead. 

Behind the counter, several workers watched the scene unfold until an older dog broke up the group. They quickly returned to taking orders and making food, though they snuck glances at Dad when they weren’t busy. The dog marched up to Dad, pointing to a nametag that had ‘manager’ printed in bold letters. 

“Sir, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave the premises,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument. 

Dad huffed in frustration, stuffing the paper into his pocket. “Fine,” he growled, hopping down from the chair and shoving past the dog. “Come on, sport. Let’s get outta this dump.” 

Drake hurried to his father, clutching his Quackerjack toy close to his heart. Dad’s strides were long and powerful, forcing Drake to move faster so he wouldn’t be left behind. 

“Hey, Dad…you’re not really going to jail, are you?” Drake whispered once they were safely out in the parking lot. His skin pricked, and he was scared that if he turned around, he’d see everyone in the restaurant judging them. 

The policeman hadn’t handcuffed Dad…yet. Was he just waiting for the right time? Maybe the police were right around the corner, waiting for a reason to take him. 

“Oh, quit worrying already. Heroes don’t go to jail, Drake,” Dad snapped, jamming the key into the Ratcatcher’s ignition. “Good guys like me don’t belong behind bars. Now get in before some other power-tripping cop shows up.” 

Drake climbed into the sidecar, managing to do it without help this time. He turned to Dad, ready to share his exciting news, but he didn’t look his way. Dad’s entire mood had been soured. 

Neither of them spoke on the ride home.  

o-o-o-o-o

Auntie and Uncle Tino were waiting for them in the garage of Lot 9, where the Ratcatcher was parked when it wasn’t in use. They were still dressed in their villain costumes from filming earlier that day, a floor-length scarlet gown for Auntie while Uncle Tino was in earthy green and brown tones to match the not-technically-a-villain plant-duck mutant he played. 

Drake waved to them as Dad pulled into the garage, only stopping when Auntie crossed her arms and frowned. He couldn’t see her feet, but he could hear one tapping impatiently against the ground. He avoided her stern gaze. 

In his excitement to ride the Ratcatcher, he’d forgotten that he wasn’t supposed to be riding in the prop at all, even if Dad allowed it. 

“Morgana! What a pleasure to see you again!” Dad exclaimed rather loudly, turning off the Ratcatcher with a click of his keys. “Have I ever told you how that shade of scarlet brings out your eyes?” 

Auntie scowled at him. “Save it, Jim!” she snapped, and Dad winced at her tone. “That sort of flattery may work on my character, but it gets you nowhere with me! Especially when you take your son for a joyride in a dangerous contraption when he still needs a booster seat to ride in a normal car!” 

“Dangerous? Morgana, he’s the son of Darkwing Duck! He has to get dangerous sometime! Can’t live his life hiding in the comfort of his own room, you know!” Dad protested. 

Hiding in my bedroom for the rest of my life doesn’t sound so bad…at least I’ll have my toys. 

Drake wasn’t keen on going back to school where he’d have to see Brandon Barker, Molly Clearwater, and his classmates who’d just make fun of him. 

“For the last time, my name is Katherine! Why is it so hard to remember your coworkers’ names when we aren’t filming?” Auntie shouted. 

“For your information, I have an excellent memory. I’ve never forgotten a line, action, or name in my career!” Dad scowled, tossing his keys at Uncle Tino, who jumped when it hit him in the chest and fell to the ground. “Hey Bushroot, hang those up for me, will ya?” 

Uncle Tino sighed and picked up the keys, his purple Bushroot wig falling off his head as he stood up. Unlike Auntie, he never argued with Dad unless the cameras were on. He hung the keys on a hook by the door, clearly not happy about being ordered around but not protesting about it either. 

Drake climbed out of the sidecar, his feet dangling in the air as he hung onto the frame by his fingertips. Taking a deep breath, he let go of the sidecar, yelping when he made a less-than-graceful landing and fell onto his bottom. 

“Drake!” Auntie was at his side instantly. She couldn’t bend all the way down, the material of her dress too stiff for that, but she offered him a hand. “Are you alright, sweetie?” 

Drake took her hand, smiling as she pulled him to his feet. Her touch was always soft, though nobody who only saw her on their TV screens would know that. 

“Bruised, but triumphant!” Drake proclaimed so he wouldn’t worry her, quickly rubbing his sore bottom when she wasn’t looking. It still ached, but she didn’t need to know. 

Darkwing Duck always got back up, no matter what misfortune he encountered. So Drake would too. 

“That’s the spirit, kid,” Dad grinned, ruffling the feathers on Drake’s head. 

Drake held himself high at his praise, his heart soaring far beyond the clouds. Auntie gave him a disapproving look, though Drake couldn’t stop his preening. 

“Don’t encourage him,” Auntie said with a click of her tongue. “He doesn’t need to learn your habit of taking unnecessary risks.” 

Dad rolled his eyes. “He’s tougher than he looks. You don’t need to coddle him every time he gets a paper cut.” 

“I’m showing concern, something that you apparently lack-” 

“He’s seven. He can handle himself just-” 

“This is exactly why some parents don’t let kids watch your show! You perform all these dangerous stunts for impressionable kids, including your own son!” 

“Not my fault some people have poor taste…” 

“Only thing in poor taste is your ego and unrepentant attitude!” 

Drake pressed his hands against his head as Auntie and Dad raised their voices. He didn’t like it when they argued, which happened a lot. He wished they’d just get along. 

A hand rested on his shoulder. Drake turned and smiled at Uncle Tino, whose feathers were still caked with green, plant-like makeup from his Bushroot scenes. 

“How was school, Drake?” Uncle Tino asked. His voice was often quiet, a lot quieter than anyone else Drake had ever met, but Drake found it soothing to talk to him whenever everyone else became too loud. “Your presentation go well?” 

Drake’s smile faded as he scuffed the ground with his foot. “Um…I tried to use those public speaking tips you and Uncle Bud gave me, but Brandon still laughed.” 

Uncle Tino gave him a sympathetic look. He understood how mean some kids in school could be, and Drake appreciated that. 

“I kept talking though!” Drake said quickly, not wanting Uncle Tino to think he’d given up. “And I didn’t cry in front of everyone this time! Mrs. Crane said I got a little off-topic, but I also did better!” 

Uncle Tino smiled. “If you got a compliment from your teacher, your presentation must’ve been really something. Makes me wish I could’ve been there instead of filming this greenhouse scene. All that pollen floating around isn’t good for anyone’s beak. Achoo!” 

Even his sneeze was quieter than most. 

“I really need to take my allergy pills…” he muttered, picking up the wig he’d dropped earlier. “Think I’m gonna head to the break room now.” 

“Break room? Is Uncle Mike there? Can I go with you?” Drake asked, pulling out his Quackerjack toy. “Dad took me to Hamburger Hippo and I got Quackerjack with my meal! I think he’ll find it funny!” 

Dad didn’t notice the disapproving look that Uncle Tino gave him. 

“Uncle Tino?” Drake asked, confused by his lack of response. “Uncle Mike’s gonna find it funny, right?” 

“Huh?” Uncle Tino said, shaken out of his daze. “Oh, he’ll get a kick out of this for sure. And the rest of us will just have to put up with his bragging.” 

That didn’t make any sense. Uncle Mike had the most toys modeled after him out of the Fearsome Four, but nobody else besides Dad minded all that much. Drake wondered if Uncle Tino was just a little jealous. 

“So why are you looking at Dad all weird then?” he asked. 

Uncle Tino sighed. “Because both of you eat at Hamburger Hippo too much. All that grease isn’t healthy for you.” 

“We don’t eat at Hamburger Hippo too much!” Drake protested. “We only ate there today, yesterday, Monday, and last week when Uncle Dan blew up the fridge…do you think we’re still allowed back after Dad argued with the policeman? One of the workers told us to leave and everyone was staring.” 

Silence fell in the garage. Dad groaned and ran a hand down his face. Too late, Drake realized that maybe he should’ve kept his long beak shut. 

“You. Did. What?” Auntie demanded as she towered over Dad, glaring at him while she waited for an explanation. 

Dad tugged at his collar with a nervous laugh. “Uh…well, you see, it’s a funny story actually-”

Uncle Tino grabbed Drake’s hand, ushering him out of the garage as Auntie’s furious voice shook the walls.  

o-o-o-o-o

“Ha! Minijack’s got my colors and bells in all the right places! And you thought this little promotional gig with Hamburger Hippo would fail!” Uncle Mike proclaimed as he paraded around the break room, the little Quackerjack toy held proudly in his hands. 

He’d been beside himself with joy ever since Drake showed him the little model of Quackerjack. Together, they’d lovingly nicknamed him Minijack. 

The bells on his jester hat jangled loudly, and Drake saw a nerve pop in Uncle Dan’s forehead when a long blue and red tendril on the enormous hat smacked him in the face, causing him to drop his screwdriver. 

“Nuts and bolts, Michael! Would you cut that out?” Uncle Dan snapped, huddled protectively over the coffee machine he was trying to fix. “I’m trying to create Instacoffee here!” 

“Ooooh, neato! What’s Instacoffee?” Uncle Mike asked in an exaggerated falsetto voice. Though he only wore a colorful polka-dotted shirt and comically oversized jester hat instead of his full Quackerjack costume, he produced Mr. Banana Brain from somewhere within his shirt and passed Minijack back to Drake. 

Uncle Dan lifted his hands in the air in a grandiose display. “Behold, the latest technological revolution in coffeemaking-” 

“Does it make banana smoothies too?” 

“-no longer shall our minds wait for precious caffeine like sleep-deprived zombies…” 

“Eek! Zombies? They’re going to eat my brain! Ahhhhhh!” Mr. Banana Brain flailed his floppy arms, slapping Uncle Dan in the shoulder several times. 

Uncle Dan growled, shoving his long nose into Mr. Banana Brain’s toothy grin. 

“I’d like to make it through my spiel without interruption, if you don’t mind! Why don’t you try being a proper banana for once and split?” he snapped. 

Mr. Banana Brain gasped, one hand held over his chest in dramatic fashion. 

“Dem’s fightin’ words, you overloaded weasel!” Uncle Mike shouted, giving Mr. Banana Brain a G.I Jay figurine to hold in his fist, its laser weapon extended. 

“Weasel? I’m a rat, clownface!” 

With a bellow, Uncle Dan grabbed Mr. Banana Brain and tried to yank him away from Uncle Mike. They fell to the floor, rolling underneath the table and causing the plates to clatter as they collided with the leg. 

Uncle Dan splayed his fingers like he was zapping Uncle Mike with several supercharged lightning bolts, while Uncle Mike hit him in the face with Mr. Banana Brain. 

It was nice of them to improv a silly scene, but Drake didn’t feel any better. Nor did he feel like joining in with Minijack all that much. He didn’t have the energy to make up a character and voice for Minijack as he did with his other toys either. 

Was Auntie still mad? He wished he hadn’t gotten Dad in trouble with her, or that they could learn to get along somehow. It worried him when they argued. Couldn’t they see he loved both of them?  

The clock on the wall chimed softly, the little hand pointing to seven. The studio would be emptying out soon. Most of the actors would be heading back to their trailers, or going home. 

If Dad’s going to jail, is someone gonna stay with me? They won’t leave me alone, right?

He didn’t want to be left behind. 

There was a soft knock on the door, startling Drake out of his thoughts. He heard voices on the other side, speaking in hushed, worried whispers. 

“-have to break the news gently, Bud…” 

“Tino, I don’t see the point in sugarcoating this. All of you avoid explaining hard topics to him. It’s not healthy.” 

Uncle Bud’s tone dripped with disapproval. Drake’s heart sank. 

“Darkwing Duck is his hero. It’s not our place to-”  

“Darkwing Duck is only a character played by the very real Jim Starling, whose son thinks the world of him, even if he is a poor excuse of a role model.” 

The door opened. 

Drake fidgeted in his chair as Uncle Tino and Uncle Bud walked in. Uncle Tino gave Drake a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring, but only made him more nervous. By contrast, Uncle Bud was calmer, simply sitting down in the chair next to Drake. 

Uncle Dan and Uncle Mike continued to wrestle on the floor, screaming electricity and toy based puns at each other when they tripped Uncle Tino, who fell on top of them with a yelp and brought their roughhousing to an abrupt end. 

“Alright, that’s enough, both of you,” Uncle Bud said, fixing both of them with a look that said calm down or else. “Let me talk to Drake without you acting like clowns.” 

Uncle Mike pointed to his jester hat. “That’s kinda my whole gimmick, buddy.” 

“Just trying to make the kid laugh a bit. Looked like he could use one,” Uncle Dan said, crawling out from underneath Uncle Tino’s arm. 

Uncle Tino said something that nobody could make out since he was lying facedown, beak smushed to the floor. 

With a resigned sigh, Uncle Bud turned to Drake. He was the oldest of the Fearsome Four, and unlike the others, he didn’t really act like his villainous persona, the Liquidator,  off-camera. 

But it was probably hard to talk like he was narrating a commercial all the time, so Drake couldn’t blame him there. 

Uncle Bud gave him that ‘I’m going to talk about your dad and it’s probably gonna hurt your feelings' look. Drake had seen plenty of grownups give him that same pitying glance. 

It always hurt worse when it was the cast of Darkwing Duck, the ones who worked with, ate with, and practically lived with him and Dad. 

They were family, weren’t they? But they didn’t like Dad much. 

Nobody did. 

Maybe they thought he was too young to really notice. Maybe they thought he needed to be protected from the truth. But Drake knew. He could see it in their eyes, hear it in their strange ‘not in front of the kid’ voices. 

“Dad’s going to jail, isn’t he?” Drake whispered. 

Nobody spoke, and nobody except Uncle Bud would look him in the eye. Even Uncle Mike didn’t try to lighten the mood with a joke. 

Uncle Bud leaned over, resting his hand on Drake’s shoulder. It didn’t make him feel better. 

“We don’t know for sure yet,” he admitted. “From my understanding, the officer let your dad off easy. Instead of going to jail, he just has to pay some money to the city. Unfortunately, your dad has made his intention of not paying the fine, driving to the police station, and stuffing his speeding ticket down someone’s beak very clear.” 

Uncle Mike crossed his arms. “I say let him try it. If he gets arrested, that’s his own fault.” 

Drake stared at him, wide-eyed from his harsh words. Nobody else seemed to find his remark funny either.  

Uncle Dan elbowed Uncle Mike in the ribs, who squawked in surprise. 

“...so why won’t he give them money if that’ll keep him out of jail?” Drake asked quietly. 

Nobody answered his question. His uncles only looked at each other in uncertainty. Uncle Bud shook his head, resigned that he didn’t have an answer for Drake. 

“Afraid none of us know what thoughts go through his head,” he sighed. 

“Except for smooching the vanity mirror in his mind,” Uncle Dan snickered, before Uncle Mike drove his elbow into his stomach. He immediately doubled over in pain. 

“Revenge is a dish best served cold.” Uncle Mike smirked in satisfaction.

“Neither of you are helping,” Uncle Tino sighed. 

Drake closed his eyes, avoiding his uncles’ pitying glances. He was tired of every grownup looking at him like that. 

I wish somebody would just…understand for once. Dad is a hero, even if nobody else gets it. 

The phone began to ring, and Drake opened his eyes, alarmed by the sudden noise. 

“I’ll get it,” Uncle Tino said. He walked over to the counter and picked up the phone. “Hel-ahhh!” 

He shrieked and dropped the phone like he’d been burned.

“-no, you stay put, and don’t you dare walk out that door, Jim!” 

Auntie’s voice crackled over the speaker, static blurring her words together. Dad responded, loud and aggressive, though he sounded like he was too far from the phone for anyone to make out what he was saying. 

Uncle Bud quickly stood up, grabbing the dropped phone while Uncle Tino rubbed the side of his head with a pained expression. 

“What’s going on over there, Katherine?” he asked gruffly. 

Drake couldn’t fully hear Auntie’s reply, but her tone was a mix of annoyance and anger. Uncle Bud listened to her rant without speaking, pinching the fur between his eyes. 

“I’m getting too old to play peacemaker between you and Jim,” he said, before pausing to listen to whatever was going on at the other end of the line. “I can’t influence his behavior any better than you can…fine, fine, I’ll try to talk him down, but I can’t promise that he’ll listen to me. Alright. I’ll try to intercept him in the parking lot.” 

He hung up, leaning against the counter for a moment before turning around. Drake didn’t know what to make of the expression on his face. Like he already knew that Dad wouldn’t listen to him no matter what he said.

“He’s leaving for the police station now,” he said quietly. “Katherine couldn’t stop him, so she asked me for help. I’ll do my best, but I can’t guarantee anything.” 

Drake looked away. He felt Uncle Tino’s hand on his shoulder, but it didn’t provide much comfort.

Nobody was confident in their ability to stop his dad. They were all convinced he’d be thrown in jail the moment he set foot in the police station, and there was nothing they could do about it. 

Drake wasn’t angry at them. They did their best. 

At least they tried. 

If the grown-ups aren’t able to do anything, then what can I do? I can’t even face my classmates without being scared. 

He glanced at the heroic pose Darkwing Duck struck on the front of his backpack. Darkwing was always brave, always certain, always fighting for what was right even when he got beaten down time and time again. 

He could be electrocuted, smashed by anvils, tied to an anchor and dropped into the sea, or poisoned with only twenty-four hours to live, but Darkwing Duck would never, ever give up even if everyone already had. Even if the world told him he can’t save the day. 

Even if he was just a small duckling who was still scared of thunder. 

What if…I can do something? I’m just a kid, but….

He reached into his backpack and pulled out his homework folder. 

“Uncle Bud?” Drake called, holding his folder tightly to his chest as he hurried to the older dog’s side. Uncle Bud paused as he opened the door, turning to Drake with his eyebrows raised in surprise. 

Deep breath, Drake, he inhaled quickly, his heart beating so fast that it made him dizzy. Now say it. I’m going with you, and you can’t stop me. 

But the words that came out of his beak were a jumbled, incoherent mess. Everyone stared, and Drake tried not to cower at their attention. 

“One more time, Drake. Just slow down and breathe,” Uncle Bud advised him. If he was annoyed that Drake was delaying him, he hid it well. 

So Drake took a deep breath once more. 

Just say it. You can tell them. 

“I…I have something important to tell Dad. Please, can I go with you?” he asked. His voice wasn’t as strong or as convincing as he would’ve liked. 

Uncle Bud didn’t respond right away. He didn’t seem like he was going to say no, but he probably didn’t want to say yes either. Drake’s fingers nervously dug into his folder. 

“...I think you should take him with you, Bud,” Uncle Tino was the first to speak up. 

Drake hadn’t expected anyone to speak in his favor, and he gave him a grateful smile. But Uncle Tino’s response was met with an angry shout from Uncle Mike. 

“Are you insane?” he snapped. “Bringing the kid’s not gonna soften Jim! He’s already made up his mind. I say let him reap the consequences.” 

Uncle Dan crossed his arms. “Agreed. You don’t know what he’ll say. He’ll just hurt Drake’s feelings and drive off.” 

They weren’t wrong. Dad might not listen to him either. 

But Darkwing Duck was not the sort of avian who played it safe. He was always ready to take risks on headfirst, even if the situation wasn’t in his favor. 

I’m going to be like Darkwing. I have to take a chance. 

“I still want to talk to him,” Drake declared. 

“This is something he wants to do for himself,” Uncle Tino explained to Uncle Mike and Uncle Dan, who still shook their heads in disapproval. “We shouldn’t get in the way.” 

Drake glanced up at Uncle Bud, who gestured to the open door. 

“Then let’s go,” he said, allowing Drake to take the lead. 

It’s okay, Dad. I won’t let you go to jail. 

o-o-o-o

“Damn it, where did I put those stupid keys?” Dad grumbled, fumbling around in the pockets of his blazer. He tossed an old gum wrapper and several pennies to the ground, kicking them under his car in annoyance. 

He’d taken off his hat, mask, and cape, leaving him only in his turtleneck and unbuttoned blazer. The feathers on top of his head were messy from being under his hat, his cheek feathers sticking out in every direction. 

As Uncle Bud and Drake approached the handicapped space where Dad’s car was parked, Drake’s rush of bravery wore off. 

Dad’s scowl was set deep in his beak, and it only grew deeper when he spotted them. 

Drake hung back several steps behind Uncle Bud. He didn’t want to appear smaller than he already was, but Dad’s anger could be scary at times. 

“Mind your language, Jim,” Uncle Bud said gruffly. “The only things Drake should be repeating from you are Darkwing’s catchphrases.” 

Dad scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Oh, did Morgana tell you to bring my kid along to guilt trip me into staying? That’s low, even for the likes of you, Liquidator.” 

“Drake came of his own accord,” Uncle Bud replied. He didn’t raise his voice like the others tended to do. His tone was calm and even, and Drake understood why Auntie had asked him to speak to Dad before anyone else. “He said he has something very important to tell you.” 

He gently nudged Drake forward. Dad’s eyes flicked towards him, and Drake gulped, fighting the urge to run away. 

Be like Darkwing. 

Dad tapped his foot impatiently. Drake knew he needed to hurry and say his piece before Dad drove away. 

“I-I…um, a-are you handicapped, Dad?” 

Unable to make eye contact anymore, Drake’s gaze fell upon the blue handicapped sign, and the question slipped out before he could stop it. 

“How could I be Darkwing Duck if I were crippled?” Dad snapped, and Drake regretted opening his mouth. He reached into his pocket, finally pulling out his keys. “Is that your ‘very important thing’, Drake? Because I have places to be.” 

Drake hugged the folder to his chest, Dad’s words echoing inside his mind. There was a chance he’d be ignored, or that his beak would open and he wouldn’t say what he wanted the other person to hear.

It was okay. Darkwing didn’t always succeed in his first attempt to catch a villain.  

But it stung. Not even Dad wanted to hear him out. 

Dad threw open the car door, and it slammed against the car’s exterior with a resounding bang. He climbed inside, but before he could shut it, Uncle Bud grabbed the handle and held the door out of reach so that Dad would have to lean out to close it. 

“I’m giving that officer a piece of my mind for publicly humiliating me,” Dad growled. “So get out of my way, Liquidator.” 

Uncle Bud narrowed his eyes, not even flinching when Dad honked the horn to try and scare him off. 

“I’m not stopping you,” he said. “I’m only keeping you here long enough so your son can accomplish what he came here for.”  

He turned and gave Drake an encouraging nod. 

With shaking fingers, Drake reached into his folder and pulled out the drawing of Darkwing Duck. 

It wasn’t a perfect likeness. The beak was colored a shade lighter than it should’ve been, a golden button on the blazer was missing, and one leg was longer than the other. 

But if Dad was going to jail, then Drake hoped he’d be able to brighten his cell wall with the drawing. Jail cells always looked so cold and colorless on TV. 

“You can have this. I drew it in class,” Drake said timidly, thrusting his art into Dad’s hands. He stared down at the drawing with a raised eyebrow. Though Drake wasn’t sure if Dad liked or disliked it, he knew he had to keep going. “Even if you’re going to jail like everyone says…you’ll still be my hero, Dad.” 

Dad looked up with a startled expression. His beak fell open in shock, and though he tried to speak, he could only manage a shocked, wordless mumble.

It was strange to see him so speechless. 

Drake and Uncle Bud stepped back from the car. Though Uncle Bud no longer held onto the handle, Dad didn’t rush to close the door. He carefully brushed away a few stray crayon rubbings and tugged at the collar of his turtleneck nervously. 

One foot slid out of the car. 

Dad’s getting out! He’s not going to the police station after all! 

Drake bounced on his toes with excitement, only stopping when Uncle Bud gripped his shoulder. 

Then Dad shut the door, backing up the car so fast that he hit the curb on the opposite end of the lot. 

And he was gone, leaving only tire markings burned into the road. 

Tears formed in the corners of Drake’s eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall. Darkwing Duck never cried. So Drake wouldn’t either. He clung to Uncle Bud’s leg, trying to dry his tears on the fabric of his pants. 

“I’m sorry,” Uncle Bud said quietly. His face was solemn as he rested a hand on Drake’s head. “I was convinced he’d listen for once too.” 

“It’s okay…” Drake whispered. He did his best not to sniffle.

“Katherine offered to take you for the night. If anything happens, she’ll be the first one they’ll call.” 

Then Uncle Bud took Drake’s hand, leading him away from the parking lot. 

But Drake could only stare at the empty space where Dad’s car used to be. 

o-o-o-o

It was ten, an hour past his bedtime when he stayed at Auntie’s house. An instrumental of the Darkwing Duck theme played on the television, marking the episode’s end. Auntie let him watch four episodes back to back, and he felt her worried glances burn into him when he didn’t try to imitate the superhero’s moves or quote his witty puns and intro speeches. 

He only sat motionless on the couch, eyes glued to the screen as the intro to a strange cartoon he’d never seen before played. 

The screen went black, the sound of static briefly filling the air. Startled, Drake’s attention snapped to Auntie. He hadn’t heard her enter the room.  

“You’re too young for this show, Drake,” she said, glancing at the TV with distaste. “And your extra hour is up. It’s time for bed.” 

“But I’m not sleepy!” Drake protested. His beak parted in a wide yawn, and he clapped a hand over it. Auntie gave him a knowing look, and Drake sank against the couch cushions, caught in his own lie. “And Dad’s not back either…are you sure you haven’t heard anything?” 

The phone only rang once tonight. Drake had been so excited to hear the ring that he’d ignored Darkwing’s climactic battle with Megavolt in the thunderstorm, but he was only met with disappointment when the caller was just trying to sell insurance, whatever that was. 

Auntie lifted the skirt of her nightgown and sat on the couch, a resigned sigh escaping her. She pushed her loose hair away from her face, a far cry from the elegant beehive she wore as Morgana. 

“I promise I’ll tell you if anything comes up,” she said. She placed a heart shaped cushion against her leg and patted it with a sad smile. Slowly, Drake crawled over to her and fell against the cushion. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Unfortunately, your father could be doing any number of things right now even if he isn’t sitting in the middle of a cell.” 

Her beak pursed together, like she was disgusted by what Dad could possibly be doing at ten at night. 

“Like protecting St. Canard from bad guys in real life?” Drake asked. 

He could understand why Dad would be out so late then. It was a full moon tonight, and criminals always crawled out of the shadows by the hundreds to commit all sorts of heinous acts in the silver moonlight. 

Dad hadn’t tried to call them. It was probably for the best, if he was surrounded by villains and didn’t want to run the risk of an unsavory character learning about his secret identity and using his loved ones against him. 

But Auntie only sighed, a faraway look in her eyes. 

“I don’t think Jim would act that…reckless,” Auntie said. Upon hearing the pause in her words, Drake tilted his head up at her. She let out a resigned sigh. “Maybe he would be that reckless.”

Sometimes Auntie and Dad would get along. They’d eat and drink together in between takes. But most of the time, they argued with raised voices and wild, frantic gestures, and everyone would be caught in their anger.

Drake could never decide if they were friends or enemies. He wasn’t sure if anyone else knew either. And depending on the episode, Darkwing could be dodging magic bolts from Morgana or kissing her on the rooftop. 

He always covered his eyes during the kissing scenes. They were kinda gross. 

“Auntie, do you like Dad?” Drake asked. Auntie stiffened, her nails digging into the fabric of the cushion. Drake hastily backtracked at the offended look she gave him. “I mean, as a hero?” 

“A hero,” Auntie repeated in disbelief. She must’ve thought Drake was asking something entirely different. 

Or maybe she didn’t think Dad was a hero either. Nobody did. 

“Darkwing Duck’s not real, you dork!” 

“You were supposed to talk about a hero in your life. Not one on a silly TV show.”

“Is he at all aware that law enforcement does not require the help of reckless, gloryhounding vigilantes to arrest criminals, unlike your ridiculous show?” 

“Darkwing Duck is only a character played by the very real Jim Starling, whose son thinks the world of him, even if he is a poor excuse of a role model.” 

Drake pushed himself onto his knees as he waited for Auntie’s answer. 

“He’s certainly passionate about his job,” she admitted. “I can’t deny that.” 

Darkwing Duck was committed to his mission against evil. Nothing could sway him off the path of justice and righteousness! 

Except for maybe Morgana, but she sometimes used love spells so that didn’t count.

But there was more to Darkwing than just punching bad guys. It seemed that was the only thing people saw when they thought of the Masked Mallard. 

“That’s not the answer you were hoping for, was it?” Auntie asked. 

“Well, you’re right about Darkwing being passionate, but….” Drake trailed off as he thought about why he admired Darkwing. 

It wasn’t just his cool fashion sense, or his awesome Quack Fu moves. Nor was it about the witty one-liners or boasts about his skills. 

As cool as Darkwing was, he didn’t always capture the villain on the first try. He’d often meet someone with powers he didn’t know how to combat, and he’d have to develop a fighting style to overcome them. Or someone would deliberately plant a false lead, and Darkwing would have to separate the lies from the truth. 

He could be tied to a cinderblock in the ocean, crushed, or have his memories erased. The villains could gang up on him and stomp on his back until his spine broke, but Darkwing would never give in. No matter how much physical pain he had, he would fight until the battle was won. 

“He always gets back up too, even if it looks hopeless,” Drake said. “Even if nobody else is on his side. Even if…I’m the only one in the whole world who sees that.” 

He drew his knees up to his chest. Sometimes, it felt like he and Dad were the only ones who truly understood Darkwing Duck. 

It was lonely. 

“The world is a big place, Drake,” Auntie said after a few minutes of silence. “You might not know them at the moment, but I believe that somewhere out there, you’ll find someone who shares those feelings too.” 

Despite his turmoil, Drake managed to smile back. 

And someday, I just might find them. So I’ve got to hang on a bit longer.

Then Drake noticed the stack of tarot cards she’d laid out on the coffee table. The top one displayed the image of a jester and his juggling balls.  

“Did your cards tell you that?” he asked. 

“No, but my crystal ball did,” Auntie replied. “Oh, what’s this? I see something else reflected in it…” 

She pulled a decorative crystal ball from her coffee table into her lap, waving her hands around the glass. Drake peered at himself on the reflective surface. He couldn’t help but laugh when his lower bill appeared much longer than the top half. The crystal ball lit up, casting a bright light into the shadows of the living room.

“What do you see?” Drake asked eagerly. 

“I see…a set of pillows, blankets, a teddy bear with a purple mask, all lying on top of a twin-sized mattress, underneath a ceiling full of glow-in-the-dark stars….” Auntie narrated dramatically. “Yes, yes, it’s all very clear now…” 

“What?” Drake tried to see all the things she was describing, but he couldn’t make out any images in the light. 

He thought he could at least make out the teddy bear, but the light suddenly shut off before he knew for sure. 

“The crystal ball predicts that you’ll be in bed in the near future!” Auntie declared with a final flourish of her arms.

Drake pouted, and although he was willing to give up a week’s worth of dessert to stay up a little longer, he decided it wasn’t worth arguing about. Auntie had promised to wake him up if something happened, so he decided to trust her word. 

The light from the crystal ball vanished. Drake knew about the off switch on the bottom, but he had fun pretending it was really magic. 

“G’night,” Drake murmured, his beak opening in a wide yawn. 

He climbed off the couch, his feet scrabbling at the air briefly before he touched solid ground. His landing wasn’t graceful either, and he yelped when the sharp edge of the coffee table jabbed the back of his knee.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have Darkwing Duck’s perfect night vision. 

“Are you okay?” Auntie asked in concern. 

Drake quickly shook off the pain. “Of course! A coffee table can’t stop me!” he proclaimed. But he forgot to look where he was going, and as he stepped out into the hallway, he tripped over an umbrella stand and landed flat on his face. “Ow… your umbrella stand may have won this fight, but-” 

The doorbell rang before he could finish his sentence. Startled by the sudden noise, Drake shot to his feet and crashed into the umbrella stand again, falling onto his back. His elbow hit the floor, throbbing with pain.   

Auntie knelt in concern. “Drake, are you-” 

A series of loud, earsplitting knocks interrupted her before she could finish. 

Drake flinched and stared at the door, wide-eyed with sudden fear. 

“Auntie? A-are we being robbed?” he whispered. 

Because of St. Canard’s never-ending swarm of criminals, safety was drilled into every kid’s mind the moment they could walk. 

Don’t talk to strangers, use the buddy system, say no to drugs, lock all doors and windows at night….

“I-I’ll knock them out for you, Auntie…” But Drake couldn’t keep the stammer out of his voice. 

He wanted to sound cool, confident, brave. Darkwing Duck wouldn’t cower in fear from a common robber. He’d open the door and swiftly knock them out with a karate chop to the head before they could blink. 

But Auntie shook her head firmly. 

“This is real life, Drake,” Auntie said, keeping her voice low. She picked up her fallen umbrella. “Not the time to play Darkwing Duck. If you put yourself in unnecessary danger, I will ground you until you’re old enough to pay your own bills. Understand?” 

Drake nodded quickly. He knew better than to argue with Auntie. 

There was a brief moment of silence before the knocking began anew, like whoever was on the other side had to take a break from banging on the door.

“I’ll handle our unwanted guest,” Auntie said, brandishing her umbrella. “In the meantime, I want you to hide, and if you can, run to the neighbor’s house and call the police.” 

She helped Drake to his feet, gently pushing him behind the wall to hide him from view.  

What if they overpower her? 

Stricken with fear, Drake leaned against the wall and waited with bated breath as Auntie slowly unlocked the door, umbrella held at the ready. He felt bad for disobeying, but what if she needed him to jump in? 

What if Auntie got hurt and could no longer defend herself? He couldn’t just leave her alone! 

Auntie’s hand was on the doorknob. She paused, took a deep breath, and threw the door open. 

“About time you opened up, Morgana! I’ve been waiting forev-” 

Auntie shrieked, her war cry echoing off the walls, and smashed her umbrella against the intruder’s head. With a startled yelp, the would-be robber collapsed onto his knees. 

“Owww….” he groaned. He swayed back and forth, barely catching himself in time before his head hit the brick porch. 

Auntie flicked the light switch beside the door. The lantern mounted to the outside wall flared to life, illuminating several fluttering moths. 

Drake gasped, his hands flying to his beak to stifle the noise so Auntie wouldn’t turn around and find out he’d disobeyed her. 

This was no robber! 

Dad came back! He didn’t get thrown in jail after all!

“Is that how you greet everyone who knocks on your door?” Dad snapped, a purple bruise blossoming underneath the ivory feathers of his head. 

Auntie threw down her umbrella, and it landed on the floor with a sharp clatter. “Knocking? You were trying to break my door like a madman!” she yelled. “What was I supposed to think?”

“Let me see…how about ‘oh my goodness, I’m so sorry for hitting you over the head with an umbrella, Jim! Why don’t you come inside so I can make that up to you?’” Dad did his best impression of Auntie’s voice. 

“I don’t sound anything like that!” Auntie shouted, her hand braced on the doorknob. She was barely holding herself back from slamming the door in his face. “And what makes you think I’ll trust you in my house after the mess you made last time?” 

There was a pause as Dad and Auntie stared each other down, the only sound coming from the crickets chirping outside. 

Then Dad stood up, but his posture seemed…different. Less confident and dramatic. 

More…confused than anything. 

It took Auntie by surprise too. 

“Wait, Morg-I mean, Katherine,” he stammered, and if Drake wasn’t watching their conversation right now, he might’ve believed Dad was a completely different duck, or replaced with an imposter. “Is Drake here? I’ve been to Liquidator’s and Bushroot’s place, and I didn’t even bother with Quackerjack, doubt that clown can keep a kid alive for more than five seconds…but Liquidator said he was with you. Anyway, I…I need to see him.” 

He trailed off for a moment, then mumbled a very forced please. 

Auntie just stared at him. 

“Why?” she asked. 

The happiness that Drake felt upon seeing Dad vanished. He didn’t have handcuffs or a ball and chain on his ankle, but Drake wondered if the police were impatiently waiting on the street as they allowed Dad to say goodbye before they locked him up for a long time. 

“He’s my son, Katherine! I don’t have to explain my reasons to you!” Dad scowled, covering his long bill when Auntie put a hand on her hip in displeasure. He sighed, shoving his clenched fist into his pocket and looking away in embarrassment. “Look, I didn’t go to the police station. Changed my mind last minute. Figured zebra stripes weren’t really my style. Besides… something more important came up.” 

He reached into the folds of his blazer and brought out a picture frame. 

A drawing of Darkwing Duck laid within the glass. 

Drake’s eyes widened. 

My drawing…he framed it? 

“So is he still awake?” Dad asked. “Figured I owe him an explana-” 

Unable to keep himself hidden anymore, Drake rushed past Auntie and launched himself into Dad’s chest. Dad yelped as he lost his balance and fell onto his bottom a second time, taking Drake with him. 

“Ow…watch the ribs, kid! Still got some bruises from my last stunt,” Dad coughed, his voice strained. Drake quickly removed his hands and sat up. The picture frame laid face down on the bricks. Dad quickly flipped it over and let out a sigh of relief when the glass remained intact. 

Auntie sighed, but Drake could see a tiny, fond smile on her beak. He turned back to Dad, who was rubbing his chest to relieve the lingering pain. 

“Hey, Dad?” Drake said, his voice tiny. “I knew you wouldn’t go to jail.” 

Dad let out a raspy laugh, using Drake’s shoulder as leverage to haul himself back to his feet. 

“Ha! The great Darkwing Duck, a common jailbird?” Dad chuckled. “They were all wrong about that. Buying a frame for your interpretation of my heroic self was a much better use of my time. Glad you never doubted me once, sport. At least I raised you with sense.” 

He shot a smug look at Auntie, who smacked the umbrella against the palm of her hand like she was struggling not to bean him over the head again. 

“Does this mean you’re actually planning to pay for your speeding ticket like a good, law-abiding citizen?” she asked.   

Dad rolled his eyes and flicked his hand dismissively. “Eh, I’ll take it up with my lawyer. We’ll just contest it in court later.” 

Auntie glared at him. 

“What?” Dad protested with a frown. “That’s a perfectly legal course of action! I don’t have to be a vigilante against the system all the time.” 

Drake had no idea what any of that meant, but if that wasn’t breaking the law, then it was good enough for him. He smiled and threw his arms around Dad’s waist, making sure to avoid his bruises. 

“When I’m bigger, I’m gonna be a hero just like you!” he declared. 

Dad blinked down at him, his beak falling open in shock. Then he ruffled the feathery tuft on Drake’s head. “Heh…that’s probably gonna take a while, but I’ll root for ya, kiddo.” 

“That’ll be the day….” Auntie murmured. 

Dad stuck his tongue out at her. Drake only tightened his hug, never wanting to let go. 

I don’t care what everyone else says. Dad is always gonna be my hero. That’s never gonna change. 

End AN: In this AU, Drake was conceived as a one-night stand between Starling and some random girl who let Starling keep the egg. The bio mom isn’t a factor here basically in the same way Huey, Dewey, and Louie’s bio father isn’t important in the show. Starling really only kept the egg to avoid bad publicity, but he does come to care about Drake, even though he’s a menace to everyone else. 

Starling can’t remember his coworkers’ actual names and calls them by the characters they play. 

Drake gets shuffled around between the cast members of Darkwing Duck, depending on who's available to take him. Jim Starling is a busy guy, and I really don’t trust him to keep a child alive to adulthood on his own. While Drake does consider them all family, sometimes he wishes he didn’t have to keep track of who's picking him from school, or whose house he left his belongings at.  

My HC is that Darkwing Duck (the in-universe show) was criticized for Starling’s stunts being too imitable and dangerous for kids, and that some parents won’t allow their kids to watch the show at all because of Starling’s egocentric behavior.  

I like to think Starling’s car is either an Aston Martin (Martin being a type of bird, and the model famously associated with the James Bond series) or the Duckverse equivalent of a BMW because he has the personality of a BMW driver. 

Morgana (at least, the actress OC of her) originally wasn’t planned for this story, but her arguments and weird relationship with Starling made me extend her presence cause she was funny to write for. While she and Starling would portray a Batman-Catwoman-esque relationship on the show, but in reality they can’t stand each other and only grudgingly, surface-level try to be civil in front of Drake. 

Anyway, I probably spent a lot more time on this fic than I needed to but I hope you all enjoyed reading it! Also, stay tuned for the epilogue after this! 

[mulletsonlydotcom]

*blows dust off this blog* so. army of the doomstar, huh?

[kissmefriendly]

On a slightly more serious note, I just wanna post this before the final entry, not counting the epilogue. I’m so, so thankful for Dracula Daily. It’s been an absolute blast beginning to end, reading discourse, seeing the jokes and memes and all the art, reading theories and reactions. And getting to be apart of that! Reading this book again in this format was a hell of an experience but the fact that I didn’t do it alone, I don’t know. We’ve all gotten to experience this book in a new way in real time together. I love that. And I hope that it won’t be just a one-off event, either. And even if it is? But this? It’s been wonderful. So, thank you to everyone for collectively going nuts over a 130 year old novel. Thank you for posting and making those artworks and memes and analyses. Reminds you you’re human and not stuck and alone.

[ciderjacks]

hey if u guys r sad about ofmd and want another show with gay people to watch you should consider watching Deadloch. It’s really good it’s really really good uh it might get a second season if the creators decide to do that.

if you watch good omens you’ll be able to watch Deadloch they’re on the same service. Uhhhh One of the actors from ofmd is there shes one half of the main duo (the other half is played by Kate Box who’s an amazing actor and Dulcie is now one of my fav characters ever) gets to wear an open Hawaiian shirt for like 3 of the 8 episodes which is a bonus. It’s extremely gay and it’s fun and beautifully written and no queer characters die and it’s satisfying and funny and Please watch it I’m begging you please watch itPLEASE

[doctorweebmd]

coming out of my baldurs gate 3 delirium (aka i am working a night shift and can't physically play it. at work.) to say that horikoshi. horikoshi when i GET YOU. you are NOT leaving izuku with no quirk and no arms. i am in your walls

[tragically-jane-doe]

How do you act normal about the fact Emily Rohm can hit her notes in TBOJD while flying and spinning around?

My peers are concerned about my reactions

Well I sit there in unbelievable awe when I watch TBOJD... And I cry when I listen to the recording

So I don't know how you act but this is the normal™ so just do that

Everything is fine

We're all okay here

[ssahotchnerr]

no but imagine pre-relationship aaron with fem!reader who can fall asleep anywhere & in the most uncomfortable positions known to mankind 💀 aaron is both terrified and amazed bcs how do you keep doing that 😧 but then every time he sees you like that he slowly & carefully arranges you in a more comfortable position 🥹🫶🏻 & the team gives him shit for it 💀

(luvie can I be 🪷 anon 🥹🫶🏻)

makeshift

omg stop i love that cw; fem!reader, bau family banter, pining aaron <333

falling asleep in a federal prison, may seem like a hard thing to do. surrounded by the worst of the worst, distant yells from the inmates floating down the hall, the mere location itself. but apparently, not for you.

the facility was currently on lockdown, meaning no one was going in or out, and therefore you were stuck overnight. as a result, the warden offered one of the locker rooms to be strictly the bau's 'break room', so to speak.

after his last, rather unpleasant interview of the evening, aaron was hellbent on a fresh, but not very good, cup of coffee. as he pushed the door open and entered, his focus diverted straight to you.

you were laid across a steel bench - eyes closed, hands clasped over your stomach, absolutely gone to the world. however, if you moved an inch - or probably less - would you completely topple onto the hard floor.

"you're kidding." aaron deadpanned as he looked at you in pure astonishment, coffee long forgotten.

"she's been like that for thirty minutes now." jj commented from where she was leant against one of the sets of lockers, head bent down as she scrolled through her phone. "but are we surprised?"

"nah," derek snorted lightly. "but hey, better than the floor."

"tell me about it." a low grumble came from reid, somewhere.

aaron's face pulled into one of discomfort, his brows drawing into a line above his eyes. the surface you were asleep on, had to be cold, for starters, by nature of the material and the a/c was still kicking in high gear despite the cooler temperature outside. the flat metal had to be highly uncomfortable, no cushion underneath you at all, most likely digging into your shoulder blades. you'd inevitably be waking up to an angry back, which aaron knew from experience - from past events where you miraculously drifted off in questionable positions.

eager to lessen the outcome, aaron shrugged his suit jacket off his shoulders. he balled it up, situating it snug under his arm.

next, he crouched beside you, cradling your head in his hand as he lifted it gently. at the movement, you stirred, a small noise escaping you and aaron froze, waiting for you to settle back down before resuming his actions. part of him feared his current, drumming heart would somehow rouse you more.

but once you had, he slid his jacket underneath your head - a makeshift pillow. it wasn't much, but it would at least alleviate some of the pressure collecting in your neck, and you wouldn't be as sore when you awoke. the next thing he had to figure out, something to lay on the ground, on either side of you, to soften the fall in case you were to-

"that's real cute hotch." derek grinned, grabbing aaron from his thoughts. "when you make up my bed next, can you add one of those pillow chocolates? thanks."

"funny."

aaron stole a glance at you, a calmness brushing over him and the ends of his lips daring to tug upwards into a smile. he couldn't help himself - sure, he wished you weren't fast asleep on a bench that could cause potential harm if you budged, but it didn't hide the fact that you were, well, you.

his hopeful, hidden attempt didn't go unnoticed by one person though, who naturally had to open their big mouth.

"that's nothing compared to that case in montana," aaron shot dave a pointed look to quit it, but only got a wink in return. "hotch practically carried-"

"dave."

"aaron." dave quipped back, an eyebrow quirked high in amusement, but fell silent. although, his witty expression didn't falter, as if he were noting to aaron that it wouldn't be difficult at all to be persuaded to continue.

"whoa whoa there, rossi," morgan straightened his posture, a hand out. "go on."

[spideyjimin]

Perfect time | jjk

⤷ part of the timing series

⏤ pairing: jungkook x female reader 

⏤ genre: parent au, exes to lovers, ceo au, angst, fluff, and smut 

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ warnings: dilf!jungkook, tattooed!jungkook, swearing, mention of heartbreak, childbirth, mention of complications during childbirth, mention of abortion, mention of death, mention of toxic relationship, low self esteem, mention of the motherhood’s hardships, mention of sex, teasing, flirting, sexual tension, nipple play, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, jealousy, mention of breakups, dispute, making out, fingering, and creampie

⏤ words: 18,086

⏤ summary: right or wrong time? actually, was there a time at all for you and jungkook? following your heartbreaking conversation with him, you feel that you were loved but not wanted. however, would it be worse than feeling wanted but not loved? nevertheless, there’s a deep feeling inside you telling you that it’s far from being over with jungkook. will this mean that one day it will be the perfect time? 

 ⏤ author’s note: the final part is finally here! it's less than 20k as I thought it would be but it's still quite long for me 🥴 I truly hope you enjoy this last part of the timing series, it was honestly super fun to write it & it also helped me a lot! i hope you like this part, let me know what you think! thanks a lot for all the amazing support , it made this wild experience very funny! 💛

As you’re looking at the screen with total disbelief, it makes you feel that the universe is throwing an unpleasant joke at your face. Your heart suddenly starts beating extremely fast in your chest. There’s absolutely no possible way that this moment is really happening. That this is real. 

Your world is totally collapsing under your feet. 

The past nine months have been quite hard, especially after the heartbreak Jungkook caused. Remembering the day he abandoned you sends shivers down your spine. You don’t like thinking about that moment because you felt completely alone with your bleeding heart in your hands. Currently, you don’t really know if you moved on from him but you’ve been seeing a guy, Yeonjun for the past two months. You’re not dating but you’re simply enjoying each other's company. Being around him makes you happy and that’s all that matters. 

Right now, you’re lying on a medical examination table in the emergency room. This morning you woke up with terrible back pain. A pain that had only been growing even though you took some painkillers. Throughout your life, you experienced quite a lot of back pain so at first, this didn’t really surprise you, especially since yesterday was a crazy day.  

Then, a stomach ache was added on top of the back pain which made everything very much unbearable. Yeonjun told you from the beginning to go to the doctor to check that out but you refused. When the stomach ache appeared, he took you to the hospital. There was no way he was going to let you suffer even though you were being very stubborn and you didn’t want to go. 

Well, now that you’re looking at that screen, you believe he did right. He’s staying in the waiting room while you’re being examined. But thinking of him currently breaks your heart because what you’re seeing on the screen will probably put an end to the blooming relationship between you. You don’t want to lose him, he’s been such a ray of sunshine in your life. Even Lux told you that you look happier than ever since he’s been part of your life.  

“I believe there is no need to tell you that we’re looking at a fully developed baby,” the obstetrician tells you. “Considering the size and the position of the baby, I would say that you’re in labor.” 

A tear runs down your face. Since the baby is fully developed, it means that they were conceived nine months ago. Jungkook is the father of this baby of yours. He’s the only man you slept with nine months ago. 

“Based on what I see right now, there are no concerning health problems but we would need to take several exams once they are born,” she adds. 

You’re in complete shock. How on earth is this even possible? How could you have not noticed this? Were there even signs that you ignored? How could this baby have grown hidden inside your body? And why has this happened? 

“I know this is a big shock,” the obstetrician says with a lot of sympathy. “But the only thing we can do right now is deliver this baby, check that everything is okay with them, and then you will think about what you’ll do.” 

She isn’t wrong but your brain has totally stopped working. You’re not able to think or say anything because this is just too much to process.    

“Would you let me check how many centimeters you are dilated?” 

You simply nod because like she said, the focus right now is to deliver this little human safely. She informs you to remove your pants and underwear, to place your foot in the foot supports, and to place your butt as close as possible at the end of the table. She places herself in between your legs to examine you properly. She definitely isn’t the person you were expecting to have between your legs…

As this moment completely overwhelms you, all that you want is to have your mama with you. You just wish to be in the comfort of your mama’s arms because no other arms will ever be able to comfort you, well except your father’s. And right now, you feel like a little baby that needs to be reassured by her parents.        

“You’re 7 centimeters dilated,” she informs you. “The baby is almost here. We would need to move you to a delivery room.” 

She keeps talking about all the information you need to know before the delivery. But your mind stopped listening after ‘the baby is almost here’. You’re simply disconnected from reality since this is too much to handle. All you think about is to have your mama. Nothing else. 

“Would you need someone to come?” she asks you. 

“I need to call my mama,” you reply. 

The obstetrician helps you to come down from the examination table. Quickly, you put back your underwear and trousers. As you do so, you notice that your belly has grown a tiny bit. In the midst of what she said while you were disconnected, you heard her saying that your belly will suddenly grow a lot until childbirth. This is scary. Extremely scary. 

Once dressed, you grab your phone to call your mom. The obstetrician indicates to you to follow her to move to the delivery room. 

“Mama,” you say when your mom picks up. 

“Hello, sweetie,” she answers. 

“Mama,” you repeat, “I’m going to have a baby very soon,” you immediately burst into tears. 

Now that you’ve said it out loud, it seems real. You’re really going to have a baby today, you’re about to become a mother. The mother of yours and Jungkook’s baby. But you’re absolutely not ready to endorse that role. However, beyond not being ready to take on that role, you also have nothing prepared in your apartment to welcome a baby. No bed, no clothes, no diapers, and all the other things a mother is supposed to have when having a child. 

But the true question right now is: do you want to keep the baby? or would you give them up for adoption? 

“Yn,” she starts saying, “where are you?” 

You tell her which hospital you are in and she immediately declares that she’ll be there in a couple of minutes. With surprise, the obstetrician hugs you to try to soothe you. Honestly, it’s also hard for her to see you in this ravaged state. 

“I’m so sorry to be the one announcing this devastating news, miss y/l/n,” she whispers while caressing your back. “I really want to say that everything will be alright but it’s a promise I can’t make. Childbirth is hard, there might be complications, the baby could have issues that I couldn’t see in the ultrasound, and after all that, you will need to decide if you want to keep the baby.” 

You hug her even more because it’s hard to hear all those things. This day is only getting worse and worse. Not only have you found out that you’re carrying a baby that you’ll have to deliver, but you’ll have to decide what to do if they live and have no health issues at birth. Give them up for adoption or keep them. 

“Your mother is coming, right?” she asks and you nod. “Then, you’ll have the biggest support,” she adds. “Have you also informed the father of the baby?” 

Right there, your body freezes even more. In the middle of all this chaos, you haven’t thought of informing Jungkook. Actually, you haven't even considered having Yeonjun informed since he’s waiting for you to come back. But you have to inform both of them, they can’t stay in the dark and even if you’re angry at Jungkook, you have to tell him. He deserves to have the choice to be present at your baby’s birth. 

So you pull away from the obstetrician to call your ex. She instantly understands that you’re about to call your baby’s father. She takes a step back to give you the space you need. As you’re waiting for Jungkook to pick up, you nervously bite your lower lip. You haven’t spoken in nine months, and now you’re about to tell him that you’re carrying his child who will be born still today. 

“Yn,” Jungkook says with surprise when he picks up. 

Jungkook wasn’t expecting at all to receive a call from you, especially after what he did. He hears you sniffle and honestly, it breaks his heart. He wonders if it has anything to do with the space he asked for or if it has anything to do with him at all. 

“Are you okay?” he asks with evident concern.

“I’m calling you because I’m about to give birth to our child. If you wish to be present, you can come,” you simply inform him. 

At your words, his body completely freezes. He can’t believe what he’s hearing and many questions cross his mind. But honestly, he doesn’t want to waste a second questioning you, it’s better to join you at the hospital and raise any questions there. It would be better. After that, he asks which hospital you are in and he leaves his company to get to you as soon as possible. 

Nurses appear in the room, asking you to wear a hospital blouse while the obstetrician calls for Yeonjun. Slowly but surely, your belly grows bigger. It’s still small but currently, you probably look like you’re 4-5 months pregnant. The blouse kind of hides it but it’s there, your pregnant belly is there. This is becoming very real. You’re about to give birth to a baby that you created with Jungkook. A little human will come to the surface of the earth because of you. 

However, the only reasonable thing to do is to give this baby up for adoption. Jungkook broke your heart, you haven’t spoken since then and you’re absolutely not ready for this. A baby isn’t a little thing. A baby is a human you’ll have to forever take care of. A baby you’ll be responsible for at least 18 years. This baby will forever link you with Jungkook and because of all those reasons, this baby will be happier with another family. If you had found out about this pregnancy at its premises, you would have aborted. There’s no doubt about it. Now, you can’t abort but you can offer them a much better life. 

As you’re walking in circles in the room to distract from the excruciating pain, Yeonjun enters the room with worry written all over his face. 

“Yn,” he says while coming in your direction, “what’s going on?” 

You take a very deep breath as you feel a contraction. “I’m about to give birth,” you tell him, “to Jungkook’s child.” 

With Yeonjun, you have spoken quite early on about your ex but you haven’t spoken about everything. He knows the most important things, just as you know the overall story of his relationship with his ex. His eyes wide open, absolutely surprised by your words. All this time that he has known you, there was literally a human growing inside you. That’s wild. 

“It’s a cryptic pregnancy,” you add. “The pain I’ve been feeling was due to the fact that I was in labor.” 

Yeonjun nods, understanding the situation. It all makes sense now. But he’s worried about you, about what you’re feeling right now. 

“How are you?” he asks with concern. 

“Not good,” you reply. “Physically this is horrible and emotionally, it’s devastating. My mind is all over the place but I don’t want this baby,” you tell him crying. 

Yeonjun holds you close and dearly in his arms. He can only imagine how you are feeling right now. This is a life-changing thing. After this, you’ll never be the same no matter what decision you take. 

“I don’t want this baby,” you keep repeating while sobbing in his arms. 

He doesn’t know what to say nor what to do. You’re in pain physically and emotionally and all he can do is support you through this. It’s not going to be easy from now on but he’ll hold your hand, he’ll be there for you because it is what you need. His heart is very much broken when he hears you crying and repeating that you don’t want this baby. It’s hard for him but he pushes away what he’s feeling to be there for you, to focus solely on you. 

His eyes scan the room to find a nurse. He needs guidance to help you in the best way possible. Plus, he knows that you deeply need it as well. The medical team needs to guide you through everything until the birth. A nurse enters the room at that precise moment. 

“Have you changed your clothes, miss y/l/n?” she asks while getting closer to you two. 

“Yes,” you answer, looking up at her, “but please call me yn.” 

She nods with a little smile. 

“The obstetrician informed me about the full situation. The good news is that the baby is very well-positioned and they are slowly descending. I will need to examine you so we can check if we see their head.” 

This time, you’re the one nodding. Yeonjun helps you to reach the hospital bed and to lay down. It’s quite difficult to move with this terrible pain caused by the contractions. The nurse checks everything and a smile appears on her face. 

“So we see the baby’s head, this is good. Now, it’s a matter of hours before the baby is here.” 

Tears roll even more down your face. In a matter of hours, your world would change forever because of this exact baby that you don’t want. 

“Yn, I know it’s very hard for you right now but I need you to only focus on giving birth,” she says. “I will guide you through every step and I won’t be leaving you alone. In no time, this pain will be gone.” 

Her words are adorable and it touches you deeply but it doesn’t change anything. 

“Now, I will need to monitor your contraction and baby’s heartbeat. It won’t hurt, I’ll only place a monitor on your belly. Is it okay?” 

Again you nod. While the monitor is placed on your belly, the door opens, revealing another nurse with your mom. She runs to you. The first thing she does is place a kiss on your forehead. 

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “It’s really happening.” 

For everyone in this room, it feels unreal. This pregnancy has had the effect of a bomb because it is beyond unexpected. Nobody saw anything and your mother feels some guilt as she sees you with tears in your eyes and so much pain painted all over your face. She should have noticed it. 

But it’s nobody’s fault. Nobody could have seen it. 

“I don’t want this baby, mama,” you say with tears running down your face. 

“I know, sweetheart,” she caresses your face. “But don’t think about it now, focus on giving birth, and then, you’ll decide what to do with the baby,” she says before pressing another kiss on your forehead. 

“But I don’t want…” 

Before you can finish your sentence, the door opens to reveal Jungkook. His eyes land on the only person he has ever deeply loved. You. He instantly notices that you’re suffering ⏤ and not just a bit ⏤ but his heart breaks when he sees you crying. This only sight is too much for him but he’s here. Never would he have missed the birth of his child. Your child. This is something he never thought possible. Neither did you.   

The atmosphere is quite heavy in the room, all of you feel it. All eyes are on Jungkook, he offers a little smile before walking in your direction. Yeonjun moves to give him the space to be near you, and it’s just at that moment that Jungkook notices him. However, he doesn’t really start questioning who this man is and what he is doing here. All he cares about right now is to understand this situation. 

As you see Jungkook standing next to you, it makes this chaotic situation even more real, which makes it even more overwhelming. You can’t have a baby with him, it’s not possible. Things between you have never worked out and they are actually complicated.  

“Hey, yn,” he finally says. “What is going on?” 

“I didn’t know,” you tell him, still crying. “I promise you that I didn’t.” 

The second he entered the room, Jungkook instantly understood that you weren’t aware of this pregnancy. The suffering was beyond the one of childbirth, there was an evident emotional distress written all over your face and it was combined with the pain of childbirth. He assisted at Arya’s birth so he saw how painful it is to give birth to a little human. So, naturally, he didn’t need you to say anything to understand the full picture.  

“It’s okay, yn,” he gently says, “I knew it.” 

You nod. Every person in this room is shattered to see you like this. Your mother and Jungkook would even say that this comes close to how you were when your sister passed away. You look completely overwhelmed by the situation, and the only other time it happened was with your sister’s death. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Even though this is causing a lot of pain, you can see that Jungkook is genuinely and deeply concerned about you. 

“Not good,” you admit honestly, “and I don’t want this baby.” 

“It’s understandable, yn,” he replies. “This is a massive surprise, and giving birth is hard too but you have the support of every person here, we won’t let you down in this particularly difficult moment.” 

To be honest, you weren’t expecting those words to come from Jungkook’s mouth. From your mother or from Yeonjun, yes but never from Jungkook. However, it warms your heart. Having them three supporting you through this difficult moment helps tremendously. It doesn’t erase the physical and emotional pain but it eases it. 

The following hours have been the most painful ones that you ever experienced. Time seemed to have completely stopped while the intensity of the contractions smashed you completely. But slowly, you could sense the baby descending. It was extremely weird but it was also a very unique experience. Even if you were in pain, you were also in awe of everything that your body was doing to give birth to your child. 

You walked a lot in the hospital with Jungkook and your mother to help out with the pain but you were stopping every time you were having a contraction. Yeonjun was present but in the background because this moment was yours and Jungkook’s. It wasn’t his even though he really wished to be part of it. This wasn’t his child that you were delivering. It was Jungkook’s. 

Once you reached the 10 centimeters of dilation, you laid down on the hospital bed to give birth to your baby. It was horrible to push, you were feeling like everything inside you was getting ripped. Feeling the baby being pushed down was awful. Jungkook was holding your left hand, encouraging you the way he could. On your right side, it was your mother that was holding your hand. Yeonjun wasn’t in the room, you were simply allowed to have 2 people with you. It broke your heart that he had to leave but honestly, he preferred that way. What truly mattered to him was to be present for all the other moments. Plus, he’ll be present for you once the baby is born. He’ll support you when you have to make a decision concerning your baby.  

After what felt like an eternity, the room was filled with the loud cries of your baby. The baby was instantly put against your chest, your hands automatically wrapped him to make sure that they were really here. The feeling of your child’s skin against yours eased your mind in a way that you can’t express. However, what hit you the most was the love you felt for that tiny human. How could that even be possible? Hours ago you didn’t even want this child to even exist but right after being born, you felt love for them.  

This love you felt isn’t that love described by every mother. It wasn’t like loving your mom for example but there was a certain love, one that you weren’t expecting to feel since you didn’t want this baby in the first place. 

The baby’s cries calmed down when they were placed against you. Your hands naturally caressed them in an attempt to calm them down. The moment was reassuring for you both and definitely very much needed. It was your first interaction together. The first moment you shared with the little human you created. 

“This is a very loud little boy,” the obstetrician said while revealing the gender of your baby. Her eyes looked up at Jungkook. “Would you like to cut the umbilical cord?” 

Your ex nodded before moving closer to her. She showed him where to cut and he did it with immense pride. It was the second umbilical cord that he cut but each time, he felt nothing more than pride. The pride of becoming a father.  

“This strong boy was born on December 15th at 22:01,” the obstetrician said while looking at the clock in the room. 

The second the time of birth was announced you handed the baby to Jungkook. Despite everything, he was the father after all and he deserved a first moment with his son. A big smile appeared on his face when he saw his son for the first time. Just like you, he felt an unexplainable love for this tiny baby. Honestly, while you were in labor, he didn’t stop to think if he wanted to keep this child or give them up for adoption. He was only focused on helping you out. 

Inexplicably, as you were watching them, you felt something inside your heart. Again, it was something you can’t quite describe but it was definitely some sort of love. If you were honest with yourself, you’d know that you were still in love with Jungkook, and seeing him with your child made your heart burst even more with love. 

Your eyes were glued to that little tiny human that you literally pushed out from your body. This morning, you were still simply you. And just like that, at night, you became a mother. 

Jungkook spent the night with you at the hospital. He informed Eunjin that he would need her to take care of Arya for at least a week. He didn’t explain the reason behind his request but he told her that he would explain later. Right now, what matters the most is being next to you and figuring this all out. Because now, you’ll have to decide the future of the boy you conceived. 

Your son underwent multiple tests in the first hours of his tiny existence to confirm that he didn’t have any serious medical condition, which was the case. The little baby is in solid health and he amazes you even more, he dearly held on to life. No matter what decision you make, you will forever admire this strong little boy. 

For the past hour, you’ve been looking at him sleeping in his little crib. The nurses swaddled him in a blanket and put a little cap on him. You can’t help but find him extremely adorable but as you stare at him you wonder if keeping him is the best thing to do. Merely hours before he was born, you didn’t want him but the love you felt for him the minute he was born has changed everything. You’re not sure anymore about what has to be done. 

“He’s so calm,” Jungkook’s voice echoes in the room. 

Your eyes look up at him. He’s sitting on a chair, on the other side of the crib and he’s also been staring at your son for the past hour. Both of you are completely lost, none of you knows what to do. For sure, you both have always wanted to have children but never under those circumstances. Well, Jungkook feels extremely guilty to have another child with someone he’s not in a relationship with and he can only blame himself for it. But this time, it’s completely different. This was a surprising birth. 

“He is,” you reply. “It seems like he doesn’t want to bother anyone,” you add. 

Seeing this little baby brings Jungkook back to the day Arya was born. She was even tinier than him, they were also very different but the love he felt for them the second he saw them for the first time is exactly the same. They are both his children, the flesh of his flesh. Looking at his tiny son makes him want to keep him. He wants to protect this little human. He wants to raise him. He wants to see him grow. He wants to see what kind of person he will become. He simply wants to give him love.  

But the truth is that it ain’t that simple. Neither of you expected this baby to arrive and he knows very well that he broke your heart. Things are definitely not easy between you. Adding a child in the mix won’t make this any easier so realistically speaking giving him up for adoption is the best thing you could do for this child. He’ll be with parents who will deeply love him, with parents who will be happily together. He’ll grow up in a much better environment. This child deserves the best. 

“This whole situation breaks my heart for him,” you say while your gaze moves between your son and your ex. “He’s been hiding for 9 months, surviving while I wasn’t taking any precaution. I have so much admiration for him but he deserves better,” your eyes now stop on Jungkook. “I didn’t even want him before he was born, I didn’t even notice him. He was literally growing inside me and I didn’t see him. What kind of human am I?” 

You start crying intensely. Jungkook stands up, running in your direction before holding you tightly in his arms. You blame yourself a lot for this whole situation. If you had noticed your pregnancy earlier, you wouldn’t be in this position right now. Feeling his strong arms around you brings you some kind of comfort. It also makes you feel like you’re not alone.

“Hey,” Jungkook says while rubbing your back, “don’t be hard on yourself like that. It is definitely not your fault, this is something you couldn’t have noticed. And look at him, he’s very healthy, he’s perfectly fine so even if you didn’t feel him, you did everything great otherwise he wouldn’t be here and healthy.” 

Your eyes are completely shut while you sob in Jungkook’s arms. Honestly, having him by your side in this crazy situation is very helpful and very much needed. You desire nothing more than to be angry at him for absolutely everything but this is a position you both put yourself in. You need him to navigate this together and in the best way possible. This is a human’s life we’re talking about. It’s not a little thing you can get over. 

“This is definitely a tricky position we’re both in because we have to decide what’s best for him in such a short amount of time but I truly believe that he’s here for a reason. No matter what decision we take, I’m sure he’s going to do just fine because he’s your son. You’re a very strong person and look how strong he already is. I’m absolutely proud of the little man he already is,” Jungkook confesses. “Being able to call him my son swells my heart with pride.” 

Fatherhood is something Jungkook knows very well. Being proud of your child is something you feel the second they’re born. But in this case, he feels even more pride for him because he survived 9 months while hiding inside you. He’s very much aware that the decision you’ll take will be the best for him but he’ll forever feel tremendous pride for this little man. 

“You’re not at fault nor should you feel guilty for all of this. It’s nobody’s fault here. Things are pretty rocky right now but we will go through everything together. I won’t ever leave you alone.” 

Jungkook means every word that leaves his mouth. He’s not proud of the way he handled things when you came back to his life but this is a situation that he doesn’t want to run away from. For sure, he can’t leave you alone, especially right now. He’s aware that you need him more than ever, and he also needs you. And from now on and whatever happens, he’ll forever be by your side. There’s no way he can abandon you after this.   

“However, now, we should focus on what future we want to offer him,” he whispers. 

The way you’re holding on to his arms reminds him of the time your sister passed away. That’s the only other time that you held him like this. It feels like your life really depends on it and that if you let go, you’ll die. And it devastates him. Because those two events are completely opposites. The last time was because of the ending of a life, death and this time is because of the beginning of a life, birth.     

“I don’t know, Kook,” you manage to say in between sobs. 

“Then, let’s think together,” he says while gently pushing you. 

As much as he wants to be the strong one, he can’t when he sees your ravaged face. This is beyond heartbreaking. His hands place your hair behind your ears while you clean your face. You thank him for helping you out, and he offers you a little smile. Both of you quickly glance at the little boy peacefully sleeping in the crib.  

“We need to think beyond what we are feeling right now, okay?” he asks and you nod. “So, first off, what would happen to him if we gave him up for adoption?” 

You take a moment to think. It’s a bit complicated to really think with all the overwhelming negative emotions you’re feeling right now but you try as hard as possible to push them aside. You really want to focus on your son’s future, he truly deserves it. 

“Well, a social worker would come to take him and probably ask us if we are 100% sure we want to put him up for adoption. Afterwards, I’d be discharged and we would both go back home. We would resume back to our lives pretending that nothing ever happened,” you say, Jungkook nods agreeing with your reasoning. “However, we would realize that it’s impossible to pretend that nothing ever happened. Right there, we would most probably regret our decision and imagine how things could have turned out if we kept him. Maybe, we would reach out to each other to discuss it. We would cry and we would probably try to find him to see what he has become.” 

Just the thought of having regrets hurts a lot for the two of you. At that exact moment, the right decision becomes quite clear but it is still best to go through both scenarios. 

“Now, from his point of view,” you say. “Most probably he’d have a rather good life unless he remains forever in a foster home. There are chances that he’d grow up feeling unloved, he’d wonder why we gave him up for adoption. If he ended up in a family that would deeply love him, he’d be loved but there would forever be this feeling of being not wanted. That feeling would also come from the fact that I had a cryptic pregnancy and that he was hiding all along,” you finalize. 

This is a heartbreaking reality but you’ve heard in many documentaries that most adopted kids feel that way. It’s hard for them to feel wanted and loved. Your son doesn’t deserve to grow with that feeling simply because he wasn’t expected in your life. It’s a shock right now but it won’t be the case forever. 

“I couldn’t agree more with you,” Jungkook replies. “And now for the other scenario?” 

His big doe eyes stare at you deeply. You give yourself a couple of seconds before replying although you pretty much know the answer. 

“First off, we would have to find a name because he couldn’t go by baby forever,” a little smile appears on your face as you look at your little baby. Jungkook notices the way you smile and it can’t help but warm his heart. “We would have to find an arrangement and figure out how we would want to raise him. It probably would never be easy but I guess we could find a common ground for him. There’s absolutely no doubt that we’d love him but we would need some time to overcome the shock we both feel right now. I’m very much uncertain about what the future holds if we keep him but I know that no matter what we’ll love him with all our hearts because we are his parents.” 

Saying out loud that you are his parents is another reality check, and those are the final words to conclude your decision. It’s quite obvious what you’ll do. You’re keeping him. 

“On my side, the decision is quite taken,” you say, looking up at Jungkook. 

His deep stare sends shivers down your spine. Honestly, it would be a lie to say that you don’t feel anything anymore for this man but it’s best to brush it off. 

“I’ll keep him because, in the long run, it is a decision that I would never regret,” you explain. “I’m very much aware that it’s not going to be easy for a lot of reasons but I already love him so much and I will forever love him. I can’t give him up for adoption because I will eventually regret it and I will break him by doing so. He deserves the best, I’m convinced I can give him that or at least I’ll try every day to do it,” you say. “Because I’m his mom.” 

Jungkook smiles when you say that you’re the mother of his child. He doesn’t doubt at all that you’ll be a great mom, from his perspective, you already are. 

“But the final decision will also depend on you,” you add. 

“My decision was basically taken the second I laid my eyes on him,” he tells you. “But I had some doubts due to the shock. However, now that we’ve thought of both scenarios, all that I have to say is that I would never be able to live without him. He’s my son. I couldn’t live with myself if I gave him up for adoption.” 

You’re thankful Jungkook was the reasonable one that made you really think about the future. A decision can’t be taken on a temporary feeling because it can cause a lot of damage. For sure, due to the surprise, giving him up for adoption seems like the right option but in the long run, it isn’t for any of you. Three lives would forever be broken. 

“Thank you,” you say as you lay on your head on his shoulder. 

Jungkook would be lying if he said that he didn’t love feeling your head on his shoulder. He would say right here that he regrets what he did to you nine months ago but he’s also very much aware that he doesn’t deserve you, especially not after what he did to you. It also won’t be correct of him to discuss that when you’re going through a tough time. Right now, all he can do is support you and be a good father to your child.

For the entire day, there’s been only you, Jungkook, and your little boy. You both agreed to be alone the entire day to focus on the right decision to take and to also find a name for your baby boy. But it has been a struggle. None of you seem to agree on a name. 

“Did it take you and Eunji so long to find Arya’s name?” you ask. 

Even though you know where the name comes from, Eunji also chose it. Your ex didn’t name his daughter all by himself, there’s a mother too. At the end of the day, she was the one who carried Arya for nine months. 

“Well, it for sure took us more than 5 months,” he replies. “When we found out that it was a girl, we started a list with all the names we loved. However, we didn’t like the names the other liked. For 2 months, we kept adding names to the list to see if we could find one. Arya wasn’t on my list because it had a deep meaning for me, it was the name we agreed to give to our daughter,” his eyes stare deeply at you. 

You still remember the day you were talking about all the cute names you’d give to your children. It’s a moment that always warms your heart because back then, everything seemed so easy. Your sister was still alive, you hadn’t kissed your ex-crush, everything was going well with Jungkook, and you were still head over heels in love with him. Well, honestly, it is still the case today even if he broke your heart. 

The man standing in front of you has been your greatest love, the first man you really and deeply loved. A first real love always remains in your heart although they hurt you. They will forever stay in your heart. Hopefully, with time, the strong feelings you have for Jungkook will diminish, or at least, you hope that you will be able to keep moving with your life without those sentiments being an obstacle to your romantic life. 

“Proposing that name would be like a betrayal towards you. I couldn’t do that,” he whispers. “Eunji was the one proposing it and at first, I pretended I didn’t like it. She really loved it but it was kind of removed from our list, which was still empty when she was 7 months pregnant,” a little smile appears on his face. “Then, at that point, you realize your daughter will be here very soon and you have to find a name. We needed to find compromises, we needed to find names that we at least liked a little bit. Again, Arya was not on our list,” his eyes never leave your face. 

Honestly, as you glare at him, you can see in his eyes all the affection he has for you but you brush it off. However, it is actually the way he’s looking at you. Jungkook holds a lot of affection for you. He’ll always cherish you even though he behaved like a child. His heart still burns for you but he can’t come back in your life. Or at least not right now. For sure, if he does so, he’s very much aware that he’ll break your heart once more and you absolutely don’t deserve it. He’s even convinced that he doesn’t deserve you. 

Those past nine months, he got the time to sit down and contemplate his actions. Unquestionably, he acted like a child. He was selfish, he only took from you what interested him, and then threw you away. But honestly, he never wondered what it would be like to have you back in his life. For the past ten years, he desperately wanted you back but he didn’t consider past that, probably because deep down, he was convinced that you would never come back. However, you came back and everything simply became overwhelming. 

“Eunji kept bringing back Arya, and I don’t know, I simply gave up at some point because I always adored that name,” he explains. “I only explained after the birth of Arya why I didn’t want that name for our daughter, but honestly, for a long moment, I felt I betrayed you. I know it’s a deep emotion but back then, I hadn’t moved on.” 

It is still the case today. The only difference now is that you’re actually around him and things are way more complicated than back then because he’s the one that messed everything up. Today, it’s his own fault if he can’t move on.  

For a brief moment, you simply stare at each other like there’s nobody else but you in the room. It brings you both back to the time when you were lovers, when everything was absolutely easy. For a moment, you forget all the terrible things that have happened between you. You forget how toxic your relationship has been. It’s easy to forget when strong feelings are involved. 

“It’s nice to finally know the background of Arya’s name,” you break this special moment, your eyes looking down at the little baby sleeping. “Now, we have to find one for our little mister.”   

Well, this time around, you don’t have 5 months to find a name for your son. Today, he needs to have a name because he needs to be registered. The nurses have agreed to extend the deadline a bit but only because Jungkook is quite known and they were charmed by him. 

“You know, I want his name to be related to my sister in some kind of way because I think she has sent him to us,” you say, convinced that your little man is a little gift from her. A gift she’s giving to you and Jungkook. She always adored him, you used to call yourself the ‘Fantastic Four’. You used to spend a lot of time with her and her boyfriend, it was always a good time. 

“Yes, I’m also convinced she gave us this little man, and it would only make sense to name him in a way related to her,” he replies. 

Jungkook was terribly affected by her death. He loved your sister, she was one of his closest friends, and losing her was devastating. Certainly not in the same way as you because she was your everything. As you lost her, you lost a big part of yourself. 

“She’s my angel, the star that shines the brightest in the sky,” you add. 

“Maybe we could try finding a name whose meaning is star?” Jungkook suggests. 

You nod, totally agreeing with him. That’s definitely a fantastic idea. Jungkook googles ‘boy name meaning star’, and you both look at the suggestions. There’s nothing really interesting and matching your interests. The only thing you agreed on was to give him a short name like Arya. 

The boy name you had chosen when you were younger was Axel but when you looked at your son, it didn’t feel like it was his name. He doesn’t have a face of being called Axel but in case you don’t manage to find a name for him, you’ll go with Axel. It would have made sense to name him like that because it was your decision but it doesn’t seem right. 

However, the name Leo appears in Google's suggestions. The name catches your attention. Leo makes reference to a constellation in the sky and it also means lion. This is the perfect name for your child. A constellation is a group of stars so it definitely makes reference to your sister. Lion is a very strong animal, and your little baby is already very strong. This name is absolutely perfect for your son. 

You and Jungkook look at each other with a bright smile on your faces. There’s no need to say anything, you both fell in love with this name. Then you look down at your calm little boy. 

Jeon Leo, it’s perfect. 

You bend down as much as you can, your body is completely sore from giving birth. It hurts everywhere. You caress the soft face of your son, he giggles a bit but not much. Now, this is your reality. You’re the mother of Leo, the son you share with Jungkook. Things are pretty rocky right now, and for sure, they are going to be for a little while. Your emotions are all over the place, and you’re convinced they will be for a time since now, you’re not going to sleep much. 

But right now, all you want to focus on is your son. 

The next day, both you and Jungkook agreed on only having your parents visit you. If each of you starts inviting people, at the end of the day, a lot of people will come, and it will be too much for you and Leo. It was absolutely adorable to see them interact with the baby. For your parents, it is their first grandchild but it isn’t the case for his parents. However, it doesn’t change the fact that they were mesmerized by him. 

Your parents shed a little tear when you explained the meaning of his name. When your parents were in the room, it felt like your sister was also present. Honestly, it was a magical moment. A moment you’ll forever cherish in your heart, especially when they hold him in their arms. Your father even cried when he had Leo in his arms. At that precise moment, it didn’t matter that they never really liked Jungkook, it didn’t matter that he hurt you. Nothing really mattered, except sharing a family moment. 

Having Jungkook’s parents was also very special. You hadn’t seen them in a while so it was good to see them. They were extremely happy to have another grandchild, they also liked the name. they said it was original just like Arya. Honestly, they were as surprised as your parents that you had a child together. None of them knew that you had seen each other but they didn’t raise out loud any question since this birth was unexpected.  

When you’re alone at night in the room, you stare at Jungkook rocking Leo in his arms. Minutes ago you were breastfeeding him, it was a battle but slowly you were getting there, but it was a special and bonding moment between you. Now, Jungkook is trying to find a bonding moment with his son. Both of you are trying to create a connection with your son and learn how to love him. 

Nevertheless, as you’re looking at them, it hits you in the face that Jungkook is now part of your family.

For the first time in four months, you’re out without Leo. Your mother and Lux took you out of the house so you could breathe a little bit. Everything has been a complete mess since Leo's birth, and honestly, you haven’t been feeling very great. From your perspective, you’re a terrible mother because it feels like you don’t love him at all. Yes, you felt some kind of love when he was born but since then, it feels like nothing has changed. For sure, the sleepless nights haven’t been helpful. 

Most of the time, you feel completely lost. You don’t know exactly what you need to do, but the only thing that calms him down is when you hold him or when you’re breastfeeding him. But outside that, you don’t really know what to do. Everything is simply overwhelming. Being a mother is overwhelming. 

“How are you feeling?” Lux rises after the waiter brings the coffees. 

Your mother has come quite often to help you with Leo. She’s been your savior. Well, Jungkook has also been your savior. The fact that he already has a daughter is actually useful. He’s been by your side in every way. He’s very supportive and he always finds the words to reassure you when you’re crying in the middle of the night because you can’t put Leo to sleep. Frankly, without him, you don’t know how you could have survived those past four months. 

“Extremely tired,” you answer. “Physically and mentally.” 

They both know how hard it has been for you, and they can’t imagine how it must feel to become a mother overnight. On top of that, the father is your ex. It mustn’t be pleasant to constantly be around your ex, and let alone one that has broken your heart not long ago. 

“But having Yeonjun helps me to kind of relax in the middle of this chaos,” you add with a little smile growing on your face. 

Yeonjun has been your rock since the birth of Leo, he has helped you a lot. For sure, Jungkook has been your savior but Yeonjun is your rock. Without them and your mother, you would have completely fallen apart. He often comes to visit and he calls you everyday. He always makes sure that you eat every day and he’s also present to remind you when you need to take a shower. 

However, what surprises you is how both he and Jungkook have managed to coexist together very peacefully. You’ve been living at Jungkook’s place since your son’s birth and the reason behind it is to make things easier. You are together through every step, you change diapers, you feed him, you reassure him when he cries, and you take turns when he wakes you up at night. You’ve been in this together and that’s your strength. 

Yeonjun has been coming to your ex’s place. Jungkook has welcomed him with open arms and Yeonjun has felt comfortable being at his place. Your ex was the one encouraging you to give him a chance, to see where things could go but for now, it’s best to not start a relationship. Everything is pure chaos and you’re scared to hurt him unwillingly, simply because you’re going through a lot right now.

Jungkook has seen the way he helped you since the moment you were crying in the hospital bedroom and the way he has been there for you when he got all the reasons to leave you. He knows Yeonjun is the right one for you. 

“That’s sweet that he’s been around,” your mother says. “I noticed how it has been helping you to stay sane.” 

That is true. He’s been respecting your space which is more than appreciated while you try to figure out how to balance everything. As soon as things calm down a bit, you’ll go back to your apartment. You can’t stay forever at your ex’s place, especially since it’s hard to always be around him. The heartbreak is still very much here, and sometimes you feel like it’s amplified by the lack of sleep. But right now it seems like the easiest solution to navigate those first months.

“Yep,” you answer. “But it’s also not always easy to constantly be around Jungkook,” you add. “I know that we agreed that it was the best solution to live together for the first months of Leo’s life but it doesn’t change the fact that he hurt me.” 

Maybe overtime, it won’t hurt anymore, at least that’s what you think. It’s already been more than a year and it hurts less than it did months ago. Certainly, having Yeonjun now helps a lot to ease the pain. He’s been treating you like a real princess and you feel extremely loved by him. You actually can’t wait to see how things will evolve with him, especially once you go back to your apartment. 

“It doesn’t hurt as it did months ago but sometimes, all this chaos amplifies the pain. In those moments, I try to avoid him as much as I can,” you explain. 

Well, sometimes, it’s complicated to avoid him, and most of the time, you completely explode. You throw all your anger at his face before totally bursting into tears, and since there’s nobody else in those moments, he’s the only one holding you in his arms to console you. Jungkook can imagine how it can be difficult for you but all he can do is be present for you when you need it. 

“Honestly, I don’t know how you do,” Lux tells you. “If I were in your shoes, I would have already punched him in the face. I already wanted to do it with Henry when our son was born so I can’t imagine how it must be in your situation.” 

Nobody around you can understand it. They can try but that’s it. Jungkook is the only one who can understand you. He also became a father overnight, he also had to figure out how to love his son, and he also had to figure out how to balance this new life. The only thing he can’t understand is how to live with an ex that broke your heart. 

“It’s for Leo’s best interest,” you say. “And for mine as well,” you admit out loud. “It would be too hard if half of the time I was alone in my apartment.” 

The two options you considered were living together for a couple of months or sharing custody right from the start. However, you knew that sharing custody would be way too difficult for you. You won’t regret the decision you made because even with Jungkook by your side, it’s still not easy. Your heart breaks whenever you hear Leo cry. 

“But as soon as we find a balance, I’ll move back to my apartment. We agreed we’d stay at his place for at least the first 6 months of Leo’s life and that we’d assess the situation every month. But it’s quite obvious that it’s not the moment yet.” 

They both nod. If right now this dynamic is what helps you, then you should keep doing it for as long as needed. Being with them out of the house feels good, it simply feels good to see other faces. You simply enjoy this moment with them. For the next 2 hours, you stay with them and talk about everything and anything. 

Afterwards, you go back to Jungkook’s place. Since Arya is with her mother today, he was all alone with Leo. When you arrive, he’s half asleep with his son sleeping on his chest. There’s white noise playing in the background. It’s probably one of the YouTube videos he found to put Leo asleep. Your eyes quickly check out his torso which is on full display. He’s still extremely hot, and sometimes, you catch yourself wanting to have sex with him. You know it’s all due to your hormones being all over the place. But to be honest, being a father makes him look extra sexy. 

“Hi, yn,” he whispers. 

You get close to take a look at your son, he’s peacefully sleeping on his father’s chest which makes him look extremely adorable. Leo has been growing a lot for the past four months and getting chubbier day after day but it’s normal. The nurse told you that he has a normal weight and height for a four-month-old. Your son is absolutely so cute, he looks like a perfect mix between you and Jungkook. 

“Hard to put him to sleep?” you ask with a little smile. 

“Yep,” he replies. “Even doing the skin-to-skin thing wasn’t helping, but thankfully, white noises always work,” he says while trying not to speak too loudly. 

“Maybe it’s best to try to put him in his crib?” you ask. 

“Maybe not now,” he answers. 

Jungkook feels a certain guilt by contradicting you, especially since he notices that you didn’t like his answer. But before he can even add something, you nod and leave the room to go to the bathroom to take a quick shower. However, before doing so, you sit down on the floor to pump your milk. Your breasts are heavy and full of milk. If you don’t empty them, even a tiny bit, they’ll explode. At least that’s what it feels like. You place the pumps on each of your breasts and close your eyes. 

Seeing Jungkook’s body always wakes a fire inside you, and you need to calm it down. You always feel some culpability, especially since you’re falling in love with Yeonjun. There’s no doubt that you’re going to end up with him but Jungkook is always in a corner of your mind. He’s always there, and you’re afraid to hurt Yeonjun. 

There’s a knock on the door, followed by Jungkook calling your name. You instantly open your eyes before readjusting yourself on the bathroom floor. 

“Yes,” you answer. 

“I’m sorry for contradicting you,” he mumbles. 

“It’s okay Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry every time we contradict each other,” you add. 

Today, his disagreement had a bittersweet taste. You don’t exactly know why but it hurt you a bit when he didn’t agree with you. It’s silly but it doesn’t change the way you feel. 

“I saw your face, yn,” he adds. “And I know that face very well, you didn’t like my answer.” 

You close your eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath. You’re trying to calm yourself down. 

“Leave me alone,” you say while opening your eyes again. 

Now, Jungkook is the one taking a deep breath.It’s not always easy for you both to raise the little man, and right now is one of those moments. He’s scared to hurt you again in those moments, and you clearly don’t deserve it. You’re discovering maternity under those exceptional circumstances and hurting you even more will only make things worse. 

“Leo is now sleeping in his little crib,” he tells you. “You were right, he’s better there.” 

Lately, your ex has been trying to be gentle with you. No matter how you’re feeling, he’ll let you take it out on him. The situation you’re both in is tricky but he wants you to know that he’s there for you. That you’re not alone. 

“Okay, just let me take a shower,” you reply. 

“Okay but if you need anything, let me know.” 

Jungkook leaves you alone, and you enjoy that moment to calm down. For sure, you need it because you don’t want to explode for something as little as this. Afterwards, you leave the bathroom with your pump, and the little bottles with your milk. The first thing you do is go to the kitchen to put the milk in a small bag and indicate the day and the hour of the milk withdrawal. You place it in the freezer and then, you quickly go to your room. 

Leo is sleeping in his crib, he seems so serene. Your ex placed a little blanket on him, and you caressed the right chubby cheek of your son. You’re proud of yourself to have survived so far and to have kept him alive this far. He’s so big now compared to when he was born, which is normal but it always impresses you how much he has grown in such a short amount of time.

After checking on your son, you join his father in the living room. You sit next to him on the couch, he’s wearing a shirt now and you’re thankful for that. 

“I’m also sorry for my reaction,” you tell him. “Leo was finally sleeping on you after you struggled so it was normal you didn’t want to move.” 

Since Leo’s birth, you and Jungkook have been communicating a lot. It’s a good thing because it has been helping you tremendously to navigate this all. 

“Don’t worry,” he answers, “I guess we’re both to blame here.” 

“And please try to wear shirts when I’m around,” you add. 

A smile appears on his face. He noticed the way you were hungrily looking at him, he’s also been doing it from time to time. He still finds you extremely attractive, and seeing you with your son makes you even more attractive. He wishes that things were different, he wishes to have never broken your heart because he’s convinced things would have been easier. 

“Well, the skin-to-skin contact is important,” he replies. You roll your eyes, he’s such a tease. “But don’t worry, I’ll try to wear a shirt next time,” he winks at you. 

There’s no doubt something is happening between you. The little spark is coming back and you’re simply letting it consume you both. None of you is trying to push the other off. It almost feels like nothing has ever happened. 

“But if I do so, you’ll have to cover your chest every time you breastfeed,” he adds. 

Right there and then, you understand what is going on and maybe because of the hormones being all over the place, you don’t feel like stopping him. He’s making you feel desired, and damn, right now, you desire him more than ever.  

“And if I don’t want to?” you teasingly ask. 

A smirk appears on his face. He gets closer to you, your eyes closing when you sense his warm breath against your skin. It instantly sends shivers down your spine. 

“Then, I might do unholy things,” he whispers in your ear before biting your earlobe. “Unholy things that our son can’t see,” he adds. 

His lips press a gentle kiss on your neck, right under your ear. Your arms wrap him, bringing his body closer to yours. His lips leave a trail of kisses from your neck to the corner of your lips. Your heartbeat increases while you breathe faster. His eyes meet yours. They are filled with lust, something you haven’t seen in a long time. Honestly, that simple gaze gets you wetter. 

Now, you desperately crave him.  

His lusty eyes understand it and in a blink of an eye, he presses his hungry lips against yours. Even though you’re both fully driven by desire, this kiss is soft and tender. It’s not bestial at all like it could have been. In fact, you’re actually convinced that if you rush it, it will destroy the magic behind this exact moment. His strong arms wrap tighter around you almost as if he’s scared to let you go. 

His lips are so soft on yours, the tenderness of the kiss making your heart melt completely. You honestly missed being kissed by him because nobody compares to him. Your heart is pounding extremely hard in your chest while the butterflies in your lower stomach are making you feel completely alive. Your hands cup his face while you kiss him passionately.  

If someone told you a year ago that you’d be sitting on his couch while kissing him intensely, you would have laughed so loud. And probably, you’d start crying in your bed because it would cause a lot of pain to picture kissing him again. And if anyone told you that you’d have a baby with him, you’d die instantly. 

Slowly, Jungkook pushes you to lay on the couch. In a matter of seconds, your shirt is pulled out and his greedy lips find their way to your nipples. They pleasantly torture you, and you don’t hold back your moans. At this moment, you completely forget that you have a son sleeping not too far from you. 

Your back arches, bringing your body closer to his mouth. Your baby daddy doesn’t spare you at all, he tortures you in a way that only he can do. Your hands are running through his hair, almost as if you’re trying to hold onto something. Now that you’ve become a mother, your breasts are super sensitive so this torture is driven crazier than it used to. 

On top of that, it’s the first time you’ve been intimate with someone since your son’s birth. It’s also the first time another man other than your son is touching your breasts. This moment is making you feel like a woman again, something you had completely lost when you became a mother. For the past months, you’ve been first and foremost a mother, a desperate one but the woman part has been put aside. However, Jungkook is bringing back that side of you, and it makes you feel alive. 

Slowly the nipple sucking turns into you getting naked. It turns into him thrusting into you like there’s no tomorrow. For hours, you make love, completely forgetting everything. You’re in your own bubble. A bubble you should probably never have created but this feels exquisitely good. Having Jungkook in between your legs burying his cock deep inside you is like being in heaven. 

Your body has completely changed since Leo’s birth, and having sex with Jungkook helps you to explore what this new body sexually adores. But nothing compares to the feeling of his hand touching every part of you that has changed, and his lips too. However, what warms your heart is the way his eyes stare at your body. They glow so much, and it makes you feel desirable again. 

For sure, the way you see your body shouldn’t be defined by the way a man looks at you, but it helps to embrace this new body even more. Yes, you’re thankful this body provided everything Leo needed, especially since you didn’t know he was there. Yes, you’re thankful you delivered him safely. Yes, you’re thankful it gives Leo everything he needs in his first months of life. But your body changed and it’s a body you have to discover all over again. 

Your body isn’t just your home anymore, it’s Leo’s too. 

Everything is different and everything feels different. This new body is more sensitive so having sex is a hundred times better than before. Sex feels even more intense. And god, let’s not start talking about doggy style. Orgasms are coming one after the other. Everything is overwhelming but in a good way. 

Jungkook, on his side, finds you even prettier than before. Surely, it has to do with the fact that your body carried Leo for nine months and is now providing him with all that he needs. Having sex with you also feels more overwhelming for him. He’s been desperately holding back his orgasms to not come like an idiot after 3 seconds. 

After having all that sex, you simply lay on the couch next to each other, heavily breathing. You’re simply staring at the ceiling in silence for a moment. Then, Jungkook grabs the baby monitor to take a look at your son. 

“Even with all the noise we made, this kid slept,” he says with a heavy breath. 

Your eyes glaze at the baby monitor, and a little smile appears on your face. Your baby daddy puts it back on the coffee table before grabbing a blanket to place it on both of your bodies. You offer him a little smile and you rest your head on his shoulder. This intense activity tired you out a lot. It’s best to try to sleep a bit before Leo wakes up.

Jungkook is standing at the entrance of the private school that Arya is attending. As surprising as it sounds, he took a paternity leave combined with the annual leaves he’s entitled to take, even if he’s the CEO of Jeon Industries. Being present as a father in his child’s first months of life always mattered more than anything else in the world. Those leaves surprised the entire world but the company can survive without him for a little while. He hired the best people so he trusts them. 

Once all those leaves are over, he’ll run the company from home. Going back to work with a baby who cries a thousand times at night is quite hard, and he already looks like a zombie. Since he’ll work from home, he’ll choose when to work and when not. At the end of the day, he’s the big boss so he can do whatever suits him. But right now, his priorities are his children and you. 

“Daddy,” Arya says while running in his direction. 

A bright smile appears on his face. Lately, he’s been trying to adjust to this whole new dynamic. It’s hard trying to spend as much time as possible with Arya when Leo captures all the attention. At first, she was a bit jealous of her brother but slowly, she’s been accepting that she has one now. She’s been trying to help, she gives you the diaper when you’re changing Leo, and she speaks to him when he’s crying. She’s doing what she can and it’s adorable. 

Jungkook places himself at her level to catch her. The days he has her are the days he’s the happiest because he’s surrounded by the people he loves the most. Even if he’s extremely tired, he’s extremely happy. Having a surprise child is absolutely not easy but slowly it’s getting easier. 

“Princess,” he says when he catches her. 

Nothing can compare to feeling his kids in his arms. Leo is still very small but when he holds him, he simply feels at peace, the same way it feels to hold Arya. But then, there’s you. Having you in his arms feels like being home. His heart is reassured whenever he holds you tight, and he always tries to provide you with the same feeling when you’re crying. In the past six months, he has seen you cry a thousand times and each time has been heartbreaking. Most of the time, he also ends up crying because you’re both completely overwhelmed by the situation. When it happens, you’re also the one holding him tightly. 

Leo has brought you closer than ever. 

However, it’s in a totally different way. You’ve become super close friends, and it kind of makes this situation easier to deal with. For sure, there’s a lot of pain from the past and it’s hard but you’re closer. What definitely changed your relationship is the sex. Since you had sex for the first time after your son’s birth, something deeply changed. After that time, you only made love one other time but you’ve been pretending like nothing ever happened. Because you both know that it’s mostly a physical need. 

Jungkook would be lying if he said that he doesn’t think about it quite often. When he lays his eyes on you, he’s brought back to those two incredible moments, and he wishes he could repeat them. But there’s a limit, especially since you’ve been trying to figure your life out. He noticed how things changed between you and Yeonjun. He’s fully aware that it is because you slept together and you don’t know what to do anymore. However, he's 100% sure that it’s not even in your mind to get back with him. 

“How’s your day going?” he asks his daughter. 

The little girl starts ranting about her day at school while he holds her hand and walks with her to the car. Eunji left Arya’s belongings at his place earlier today. She’s been quite helpful since your son’s arrival, and it’s been more than appreciated. Any help received right now is more than welcome. Eunji understands that this is a very complicated situation and she’s been trying to adjust as well. Most of the time, Arya only spends the day here and sleeps at her mother’s so she isn’t woken up at night by Leo. This was an agreement the three of you made. Of course, there are days where she spends the night here but it doesn’t happen quite often. However, tonight, she’s going to sleep at her father’s place, and she’s very excited. The reason you all agreed is because it’s friday and tomorrow she doesn’t need to go to school. 

Jungkook helps her to get inside the car, and as every day, she requests to listen to Part of Your World from the Little Mermaid, her favorite Disney movie. By now, you all know this song since you play it all the time. Her father doesn’t understand how she isn’t tired yet to listen to it on repeat. No doubt that he is tired of it! As they arrive home, Arya rushes to the living room to see her little brother. Luckily for her, you’re there, sitting on the couch and breastfeeding Leo. 

A bright smile appears on your face when you see her. She quickly caresses her brother’s hair before pressing a gentle kiss on his head. 

“Hi, baby brother,” she whispers. Her little eyes look up at you and a big smile appears on her face. “Hi, yn.” 

“Hi, little monster,” you answer. “I’ll give you a kiss once Leo’s done eating.” 

She nods and sits next to you. Your eyes move to Jungkook who’s putting down his daughter’s backpack. His eyes meet yours for a brief moment before quickly looking down at your breast. When you notice it, a little laugh leaves your lips while you shake your head. It’s funny the way he’s always mesmerized by your breasts. If there weren’t the kids, he would have probably said or done something. 

After Leo’s eaten enough, you made sure he burped. Then, Arya asked if she could hold him, and of course, you helped her hold her little brother. She’s always adorable and it warms everybody’s heart that she takes her big sis role very seriously. You’re thankful your son has Arya as a sister. She definitely has the biggest and most wonderful heart in the world. 

For dinner, you and Jungkook prepared lasagna much to Arya's delight. She mentioned a lot of times that it was absolutely good and she also spoke a lot about her friends because one of them is throwing a little party for their birthday. She sounded extremely excited which was cute. 

Once both Arya and Leo are sleeping, there’s just you and Jungkook in the kitchen. He’s drinking wine while you’re drinking a beer without alcohol. 

“We have to talk about what we’ve been doing,” you tell him. 

For the past few days, it has been on your mind to talk with him about the two-night stands you had. If it happened, it’s for a reason and you also need to discuss it with him because you’re a bit lost. You’re falling in love with Yeonjun but there’s Jungkook and you’ve been sleeping together. It kind of makes you feel guilty although you’re not in a relationship with him. 

Jungkook nods and takes a sip of wine. 

“I know I wanted it and I don’t regret it at all but there’s Yeonjun,” you start saying but before you can add anything, Jungkook interrupts you. 

“Listen, I’ve seen how confused you have been those past few days and I know it’s because of what we’ve been doing. What is going on is complicated, we suddenly had a son and we suddenly started living together. We share a history so for sure we’ll forever be attracted to each other in a way,” he says. “But don’t start pushing Yeonjun away because of me. He’s the right one for you.” 

It hurts to say those words out loud but truth being told, it’s better you try something with Yeonjun than him. He’s scared to hurt you once again and he’d die if he ever does it again. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself because you’re the best thing that has ever happened to him. Being friends is the best solution for you. 

“He’s been treating you better than I ever did so you should give him a chance. We’ve been pretending that nothing happened and it’s best we keep doing it. Don’t torture yourself any longer and just try. I’m sure you’ll be super happy and that’s the thing you deserve the most. I never was the right one for you but he has been the second he came into your life,” he finishes. 

A tear runs down your face. This Jungkook in front of you is such a more mature version of him than the one that broke your heart over a year ago. This man is the one you have always wanted to see but now it’s too late. Your heart beats for Yeonjun. You were scared that having sex with your ex meant that you were falling for him all over again. However, now that he is saying those words, it makes it clear that it is just an illusion. You’re still falling in love with Yeonjun but you simply had a moment of weakness due to the complicated situation that you are in. 

“And please don’t feel guilty, you didn’t cheat on him or anything. But I hope that all of this will help you to see things clearly,” he adds. 

You stand up and hug your baby daddy. In the end, the birth of Leo helped him to get more mature, that’s what you think. But the truth is that you’re the reason behind his growth. Jungkook needed to be present for you, he needed to be your shoulder to rest on while you were trying to figure out how to become a mother. You simply needed him, and he had to grow to be what you needed the most. Jungkook had lost you and all he could do was to make sure you’d be happy. Even if that meant without him.

8 years later

Today is Leo’s 8th birthday. 

A bright smile appears on your face when your eyes land on him. He’s running all over Jungkook’s living room with his friends. He’s such a big boy and you’re proud of the little man he has become. 

“Mommy,” as those words are pronounced, you feel a little hand pushing your dress. You look down to see your second born, Levi. 

“Yes, sweetie?” you ask before grabbing him to hold him in your arms. 

Levi is the son you had with Yeonjun. He’s 4 years old and is a miniature of his father while Leo is more of a mix of you and Jungkook. So most of the time, people don’t believe them when they say they are brothers. However, that isn’t the case when it comes to Arya and Leo as they both resemble their father in a certain way. 

“Can I have cake?” he asks. 

“Not yet,” you answer. “You’ll have a piece after singing happy birthday to Leo, okay?” you tell him. 

The little boy nods before asking you to let him go. Hyejoo, the mother of Taehoon, one of Leo’s friends, joins you. She has become a very good friend of yours and she has been very present in your life for the past year. It’s been almost a year since you and Yeonjun broke up, and let’s say that it hasn’t been easy at all. For a bit over a year, the relationship has started to deteriorate. At first, it was a bit due to the monotony but you both tried to find a solution. It worked but only for a short time. 

Yeonjun lost his job, he started drinking instead of finding a new job. Your income was then the only one coming in. Obviously, it became hard to live with only one income and a drunk boyfriend. You tried to make him realize that he needed to move his ass but it only made everything worse. Trying to reason with an alcoholic is like talking to a wall. He got defensive and you were constantly fighting. In the midst of all that, you were trying to protect the kids but they could sense and see that everything was different. 

One day, you vent to Jungkook with whom you became good friends. Since he’s literally one of the wealthiest men in the country, he offered to help you. You couldn’t refuse since you had to feed two little monsters but that made things even worse. Yeonjun suddenly became jealous of Jungkook. That was the last straw. 

He never had any reason to be jealous of Jungkook. It was your ex, the romantic love between you was long gone and he is now a friend. But above anything else, he is Leo’s father. You never wanted any stupid tension between them since there are kids involved. The three of you always made everything work out for the kids and a simple job loss threw that all away. 

Today things are still complicated with Yeonjun but the break-up was his wake-up call. From there, he started getting his shit together. Temporarily you agreed to let him live with you but he had to quickly find a solution which he did. All along, Jungkook was there as he’s been doing for the past 8 years. He has been your shoulder to lay on when you need it the most. 

“How are you?” She asks. 

“I’m fine,” you tell her. “Seeing my boys excited about this birthday party truly makes me happy.” 

Seeing them happy is all that you need to be happy. Nothing else matters. 

“But you know, this date always has a bittersweet taste,” you confess. “It was one of the hardest days of my life.” 

Even though you love Leo with all your heart, it doesn’t change the fact that his birth was one of the most arduous days of your life. It will forever be like that, and every birthday will be a reminder of that day. A day you endured physical and emotional pain and a day you didn’t want him to come. When you look at him, being so happy to celebrate his birthday with his friends, it crushes your heart that you didn’t want him at first. But that’s the truth. 

“Well, it’s more than understandable,” she says. 

Your eyes move to Jungkook, who is speaking with some friends. He has changed a lot over the past 8 years. He has grown into a very mature man and it amazes you to think how different he is now. Nine years ago, he broke your heart. Now he’s the one amending it. He did a lot of work on himself, he faced all his demons and fought them. And he did it for himself, he didn’t use the stupid reason of ‘it’s for my kids’. He finally understood that he needed to take care of himself first. 

In the midst of all that internal work, he found a girlfriend, Jihyo with whom he’s still with today. She’s a sweetheart and you love her. She’s definitely the one he needs. You’re so happy that he found her, he deserves his happy ending. A couple of weeks ago, she told you that she’s convinced that he’ll propose to her any time soon. Even though he’s your ex, you’d be glad to assist at his wedding. Jihyo and Jungkook have been together for 5 years which is a record for him. 

“I know but it’s complicated to remember that day,” you add. “But seeing him this joyful today eases all the pain that was brought on that day.”  

Jungkook joins the two of you, he greets you with a bright smile and the three of you talk about the kids. Hyejoo has 4 kids, the oldest is 10 years and she’s complaining that he’s started to not listen to her. She’s getting worried about how it will be during his teenage years and also soon after Taehoon will become a teenager. 

Leo’s father explains to her how he has been dealing with Arya who’s almost 15 years old. It’s sometimes quite difficult, you’ve seen it with your own eyes but she’s still that adorable little girl that she was when she was younger. She’s just growing up, experiencing love, having her hormones all over the place, and having her first periods too. Compared to Jungkook at that age, she’s a saint. Plus, she adores taking care of Leo. She likes picking him up at school, preparing a little snack when they’re home, helping him to do his homework, and watching series and movies together. She also sometimes takes care of Levi whom she considers too as a younger brother. 

At some point, Hyejoo leaves you and Jungkook alone. Both of you are still keeping an eye on the children running around everywhere. 

“Jihyo isn’t coming today?” you ask. 

Jungkook’s smile completely disappears and you instantly understand that something happened. You wouldn’t go so far as to say they broke up but by his face, it definitely looks like it. 

“No,” he replies. “Not today nor any other day,” he adds. 

It breaks your heart to hear that they aren’t together anymore. They were just right for each other but if it’s over, then there must be a good reason. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you gently ask. 

“Not now,” he says while shaking his head. “Let’s enjoy this little party and we'll maybe talk about it afterward. This day is already tough for us two and I prefer we celebrate our son.” 

You nod, understanding that he doesn’t want to talk about it now. A breakup is never easy, you’ve experienced some and it was always hard. The last one being quite rough, especially since Levi was involved. You wished things were different but it is what it is. At the end of the day, what truly matters is that you and your children are happy and living in a healthy environment.  

The rest of the afternoon goes well, Leo being super happy to celebrate his birthday with all his friends and family. Yours and Jungkook’s parents are also present, they wouldn’t miss their grandson’s birthday. They spoil him quite a lot but it’s normal, that’s what grandparents are supposed to do. This afternoon is a success and it warms your heart. 

Exceptionally, Leo and Levi are sleeping at Jungkook’s place and right after the party, they crash down in Leo’s bedroom. Of course, Leo’s father hired a cleaning company to clean his place. That’s the perk of being wealthy. 

Once everybody is sleeping, you and Jungkook sit on the couch with a glass of wine. This has become a tradition for the past eight years. It always feels good and you also place a picture you took of the three of you in a photo album. With it, you can see how much your little man has changed over the years. 

“He has grown so much,” Jungkook says as you watch all the pictures. 

“Indeed, and he’s such a gentle and sweet boy,” you add. 

Jungkook quickly looks at you and takes a sip of wine. Things have changed a lot for the past 8 years but he’s delighted with how things have turned. Well, he’s just sad that in the end, neither your relationship with Yeonjun nor his with Jihyo worked out. He still remembers vividly how happy he was when you were both in healthy relationships after all the chaos that yours was. But it looks like you'll have to start all over again from scratch. 

“We did a very good job despite how everything started,” he says. 

“I still remember the day he was born like it was yesterday,” you reveal.

It’s also the case for him. It was very complicated to become parents under those circumstances but he’s so proud of all the work you did. Once you live separately, you try even harder to make everything work out for Leo. That meant having difficult conversations and a lot of disagreements but in the end, it was worth it. 

“And it broke my heart seeing you in so much pain,” he confesses. “It wasn’t just physical, it was emotional as well and the only other time I had seen you like that was when your sister passed away. Right there, I knew that you needed me more than ever and that I couldn’t mess up again.” 

It’s the first time Jungkook is telling you that. You weren’t aware he felt like that but he was there for you, he was your savior. There’s no doubt that without him you wouldn’t have survived the first year. It was intense on a lot of levels but you learned a lot from that period of your life. 

“You never told me that,” you tell him. 

“I never saw the point of saying it,” he says with a little laugh. “For me, it was obvious. I already had a daughter, I kind of knew what to do. It was a shock for me and it took me some time to adjust to that new reality but you were completely overwhelmed by the entire situation. It was normal to be your shoulder to rely on,” he takes another sip of wine. 

“Without you, I wouldn’t be here today,” you admit. 

It warms his heart to hear those words. Of course, he already knew that because he saw how much you blossomed afterwards but it’s always nice to hear it from you. 

“Well, I gave up on you a bit after your sister passed away. You pushed me back but I should maybe have stayed instead of leaving. But when you were giving birth to Leo, he was also my son, and abandoning you would have been very cowardly. I also made sure I would forever be there even if you pushed me back,” he professes. 

“I’m very thankful you were there even when I was exploding,” you rest your head on his shoulder. 

This year, the conversion is quite deep. Usually, you simply talk about the funny events of the year and laugh a lot with a glass of wine. No boyfriends and girlfriends are allowed, it has always been a moment between you and Jungkook. Those moments have contributed a lot to reinforce your friendship. 

For a moment, you stay like that in silence. This year is different. Neither of you has a reason to end this moment. You don’t have Yeonjun waiting for you at home, and Jihyo isn’t waiting for Jungkook upstairs. This year there’s just the two of you. And it feels nice because you can truly savor this moment. 

“I don’t know if I ever told you that I wanted to have a child with Jihyo,” he starts saying. You shake your head. “We were very good together and I wanted to build a family with her but it all fell down. That’s what really hurts me today,” it breaks your heart to hear that. “She was expecting a proposal but I never did it, and to be honest, I don’t even know why. I loved her and wanted it all with her but I was unable to get married to her. We had a fight a month ago and she brought up that she’s kind of waiting for a proposal that never comes. I confessed to her that I can’t for unknown reasons and she got even angrier because she knew why.” 

You frown and stand up straight to glance at him. You’re a bit confused about how Jihyo would know why he wasn’t able to see himself getting married to her. 

“It was because of you,” he says with a little voice, his eyes staring deeply at you. “She told me that since the beginning of our relationship, she knew that I was still in love with you in a certain way. It was obvious for her but with time, she saw me falling in love with her so she believed things changed. However, she realized she was wrong when the proposal was never coming. She realized right there that I’d never marry her because subconsciously, I was still waiting for you.” 

Your heart is beating like crazy in your chest, and you feel your cheeks getting on fire. In his jealous phase, Yeonjun told you more or less the same thing but you thought that he was so wrong. Although, a tiny part of yourself was convinced that he was right. You thought that he was overreacting because Jungkook is Leo’s father and you would never accept Yeonjun attacking him. A good relationship between the three of you was deeply important for you because of Leo and Levi. However, maybe you were wrong. Truth being told, you broke up with him because you were still in love with Jungkook. 

“And now that you were single, there was absolutely no point in me being with someone else,” he adds. 

Jungkook gets a little closer to you and places his hand on your tight. 

“She broke up with me and it hurt a lot, especially since I was convinced that it was ridiculous but she didn’t change her mind at all,” he continues. “I really thought she was delirious but then, I started to deeply think about it. I analyzed how I was acting around you, and how I was feeling when you were there. I was quick to realize that she was right, I was subconsciously longing for you.” 

His fingers caress your tight. Your entire body is reacting to his words, this is a heartfelt love confession, and damn, it warms your heart in a way that you can’t even express. 

“I’ve been waiting for you for eight years, yn,” he confesses out loud. “And I think I might wait for you my entire life because, since the beginning, it was you. It has always been you and nobody else. I just was an idiot to have let you go twice but maybe, it wasn’t the right time for us. I know now that if you ever give me another chance, it would be the perfect time.” 

You place your hand on top of his, your eyes quickly glance at them before you look up at him. Jungkook is glowing right now in a way that you’ve never seen before. You fell for this man 20 years ago and since then, you never fell out of love for him. Since the beginning, he was the one holding your heart. As he said, maybe it was never the right time and you both needed to grow up before the perfect time would come. 

You know now that today is the perfect time. 

The past 8 years, you built a solid friendship, you faced the hardest obstacles together and you both worked a lot on yourselves. Today, you’re both different people, and these versions of yourselves can finally fully love each other.  

“I feel deep inside of me that now is the perfect time,” you admit. 

And without any hesitation, Jungkook kisses you passionately. This kiss feels completely different, it feels like you’re kissing for the first time ever. Maybe it’s because you’re different now and you need to discover each other all over again. The kiss is gentle, not rushed and you can taste the wine on his lips. Being kissed by Jungkook brings you to heaven, and you always loved being kissed by him. Slowly, you fall on your back on the couch, your hands running through his hair while you never stop kissing. 

For a moment, he breaks the kiss to look at you and rub his nose against yours. Soon enough, he presses his lips against yours for a languorous and fervent kiss. This could go a lot further but you both know that if you want to make it work this time, it’s not a good idea to have sex now. Sex is never the solution. So, Jungkook ends up laying next to you on the couch, a bright smile displayed on his face. 

“We always finish doing something on this couch,” he playfully says. “There must be something on this couch.” 

You turn your head to look at him. 

“Maybe someone put a spell on it,” you answer. 

“Well, you put a spell on me, that’s for sure!” He tells you before kissing you once more. 

He’ll never grow tired of kissing you. Your lips are his favorite thing in the entire world, he could spend hours kissing you.

The past few weeks, you’ve been flirting with Jungkook and going on several dates. It feels like things are falling into place, you’ve been talking a lot, enjoying each other's presence and simply being in love. You’ve never been this happy in your entire life, you adore being around him. This time around feels super easy. Of course, you haven’t said anything to your children because you don’t want to give them false hopes although Arya has been suspicious of what’s going on. She already noticed something had been happening when you were leaving Leo at his place one day and she raised the question. However, you denied it. 

Also for the past weeks, you haven’t had sex at all. To be honest, it surprises you a lot because you’re both very attracted to the other but you’ve been putting that aside to build a healthy relationship. You both desire to make it work this time so there are a lot of efforts to be done on both sides. Maybe more on his side than yours but still, this is something you work on together. You’re two in a relationship and it takes two to make it work.  

Today is Valentine’s Day and you’re going on a date together. Arya has nicely accepted to take care of her brother, and Levi is staying with his father. Jungkook is taking you out to a fancy restaurant, and you’re honestly super excited to spend this evening with him. You put on your prettier red dress and he’s wearing a very fancy black suit. He looks absolutely hot in that suit, you always loved watching him in a classy suit. 

The restaurant is obviously full but people aren’t talking too loudly. There’s a band playing some romantic songs, and it definitely creates a lovey-dovey atmosphere. You’re absolutely delighted to be celebrating this Valentine’s Day with Jungkook. 

“Before we take this relationship to the next step, I really want to apologize for how I acted the last time we were trying to be together,” Jungkook starts saying and you nod. “At that time, I had spent 10 years waiting for you to come back and I never truly thought about the eventuality of it really happening. So, when it happened, it was overwhelming because I simply didn’t know what to do. But it’s also because I had never done the proper work on myself before letting you back in my life.” 

This conversation is one that you have been waiting for years. You never forced it because you always judged that it had to come from him and not from you. Forcing something will always have the opposite result but you’re glad that it’s happening now. 

“Well, now looking back, I can confirm that it’s true,” you jokingly reply.  

“Back then, it seemed a lot easier to push you back. Having you back was so overwhelming that I wasn’t even able to properly do my job. It was never your fault, it was mine. I was immature and a total jerk. I hid behind the excuse of wanting to put my daughter as a priority when I should have made you my priority. I hurt you a lot and I’m very aware of it so I made sure to never do it again.” 

You grab his hand on the table to squish it. This man right here seems to always find a way to melt your heart. 

“Your happiness is the only thing that always mattered to me, and I made it my priority. Even when we were friends, I did it. That’s also the reason why I convinced you to try with Yeonjun, I saw the way he was making you happy. Also back then, I would have never been able to give you that happiness otherwise I would have fought for you. And I also didn’t deserve you, I guess I never did,” he confesses. 

The last sentence definitely breaks your heart. You want to contradict him but for sure, back then, he didn’t deserve your love because when you gave it to him, he just threw it away. But today, things are different. He has shown you in many ways that he has changed and that he deserves to be loved. That he deserves your love. 

“Don’t say that, Jk,” you tell him with evident sadness in your voice. 

“It’s the truth, yn,” he replies. “You’re such a strong and wonderful woman, you went through so much and you’re still standing tall with a big smile on your face. I never faced half of the things you did but still managed to act like a dick. I’m proud that you’re Leo’s mom so he can have you as an example and just be wonderful like you which he’s already proving to be,” a smile appears on his face while thinking about his son. “Even if I hurt you, I would do everything the same way because I got to be Arya’s and Leo’s father and I got to grow with you by my side.” 

Jungkook changed a lot, that’s sure. You’re not sure he would have said that 8 years ago but things are different now. Leo really changed everything but in a good way. Without him, you’re not sure you’ll be sitting in this chair today. Maybe you’d still hate Jungkook but you’re sure of one thing. You would have found your way to him. You never truly believed in things such as destiny but with Jungkook, it’s different. You always knew that you were destined to be together.  

Jungkook could be saying all those words in vain without meaning them but the way he’s been acting lately ⏤ and also since Leo’s birth ⏤ proves that everything he’s saying now is the truth. You believe him. 

“If you were saying this right after you had hurt me, I would have never believed you,” you start saying. “But it comes years after and I got to witness your growth. However, it doesn’t mean that it’s going to be easy. Like you said, you hurt me and ever since, I struggle a bit to trust you. I feel like at any moment you could do it all over again,” Jungkook nods. “We’ve been having a very good time and I really want to keep doing it because I always loved you as well.” 

A smile appears on his face. 

“I promise this time around you won’t regret it,” he whispers. 

The rest of the time in the restaurant goes well. You laugh a lot, speak a lot, drink a lot, and eat a lot. This is a wonderful moment. One that you won’t easily forget. Afterward, you both decide to spend a little extra moment alone in your apartment. It won’t last long because you'd rather not leave Arya alone with Leo for too long. Well, honestly speaking, you simply want to have sex because the physical attraction together with alcohol isn’t quite a good combination. You just can’t resist the other like you’ve been doing for the past weeks. 

As soon as you pass the entrance door, you jump on each other’s lips in a very fervent and needy kiss. Jungkook’s hands lift up your dress, definitely not wanting to waste any second. His fingers directly find their way to your panties, and the mere contact of his cold fingers with your warm pussy sends shivers through your entire body. When you sense him, you realize that you’ve been desperately craving this moment for a while already. 

His fingers rub against your pussy, causing a trail of moans to leave your mouth. Your moans are a melody that he’s been longing for a while. Just the sound of it makes him grow harder in his pants. In the rush of desperately desiring to have sex and not leave the kids alone for a long time, you walk backward until reaching the dining table and you fall on it. You’re now laying on top of the table. Jungkook removes your panties and simply pushes down his pants and underwear. By reflex, you open your legs and Jungkook instantly places himself in between.  

None of you speaks during this moment, there’s just the sound of your heavy breathing echoing in your apartment. He doesn't need much prompting to start thrusting into you. The two of you moan like crazy, you definitely don’t hold back since you’re alone. There’s absolutely no need to withhold.  

Your baby daddy thrusts deep inside you and it causes the table beneath you to squeak. But to be honest, you couldn’t care less about that. You’re simply enjoying this extraordinary moment together, and it’s wonderful to feel him deep inside you. Everything feels wonderful with him. Quickly, an intense orgasm hits you, provoking your entire body to shake. The man you love senses it, a greedy smile appears on his face but he keeps going. When you have an orgasm, it simply brings him closer to the edge. 

However, the orgasm + the pleasure clearly makes you orgasm even more. It’s orgasm over orgasm, you can’t stop yourself. You’re overwhelmed with pleasure and you don’t ever want to stop it. You just let it go. The feeling of it makes him desire to completely explode inside you but for sure, he needs to ask you first if you’re okay with it. 

“Can I come inside you?” Jungkook asks. 

You can barely say ‘yes’ but you still manage to say it. In the moment, you don’t care where he comes, it’s the least of your problems. And with your simple answer, Jungkook lets it go. His orgasm hit him violently, this little quickie was what he badly wanted. 

For a brief moment, you stay like that. He goes to the kitchen to grab tissues for the two of you so you can clean yourselves from all the juices that come out from your bodies. 

“That was intense,” you say while cleaning yourself.  

“More than intense,” he replies, a little laugh escaping his lips. 

“We should do that more often,” you suggest. 

Jungkook shakes his head while still laughing. For sure, he won’t be the one complaining about having more often sex with you. 

“Maybe I should head home so Arya doesn’t go too crazy with Leo,” Jungkook adds. 

Obviously, you won’t go with him. Things need to be done slowly and even if Arya has some suspicions, it’s best she doesn’t know yet. This time around, there are three children involved and there is no space for acting like idiots. This brings a lot of happiness to you but they should know when you’re both confident that it will work. 

“Yes, you should,” you reply with a little smile. 

You stand up and rearrange your dress before walking in his direction to be closer to him. He’s zipping his pants and looks up when he notices your presence. His arms wrap around your waist, bringing you closer. He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead, your eyes automatically closing for a brief moment. 

“This night was wonderful, yn,” he whispers. “I adored the moment spent at the restaurant, and I want nothing more than to repeat it.”  

You press a soft kiss on his lips. 

“There’s nothing more I’d love to do,” you answer. 

A smile of true happiness appears on both of your faces. This night will for sure be a moment you’ll forever cherish. None of you will ever forget because this night is the night where things finally took the right turn. After this night, your relationship kept blossoming and turned into the most wonderful thing in the world. Of course, when you told the news to your children months later, they were extremely ecstatic. Seeing them that way made you realize that this was all you ever needed. 

It took you 20 years to find the right time but eventually, you found it. You were the right person for each other but it was never the right time. Timing is such a complex concept, however, it was time that allowed you to grow and fall in love all over again. You were each other's right person but it was too soon. You needed to experience all the things you lived before being brought back again. Leo’s 8th anniversary was the moment you both realized that it was finally the perfect time for you. Since the beginning, it was simply a matter of timing.  

[neopuppy]

Pretzel (M)

pairing. alpha jeno x female omega reader

genre. non-traditional a/b/o AU, and they were roommates, pw-barely any-p, M/F, one shot

warnings. profanity, gamer Jeno, mild e2l, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

wc. 8k+

now playing. pretzel//nct dream

smut warnings. unprotected sex, heat sex, masturbation, oral, possessiveness, choking, biting, degradation/praise, knotting, wet messy slicked up filth

———————————————————

Today is going to be a good day, because today you woke up with renewed motivation despite another restless night.

Your apartment is the perfect walking distance from work. Utilities are included in the rent, there’s an adorable bakery across the street that serves the best almond croissants, and the balcony has an amazing view of the mountains.

Not to mention rent was more than within your budget.

Nothing can ever actually be perfect though, your roommate reminds you as he steps out of his bedroom reeking of pungent Alpha scent, shooting you a wink on the way to the bathroom.

“Morning, Omega.”

Your apartment is perfect, other than one insufferable factor.

Jeno Lee moved in last week after your landlord had promised you ‘no issue’ of housing you with another Omega. No issue until it became an issue, that is.

‘You said Alphas aren’t permitted on this floor!’

Mr. Huang shrugs, blaming his son's lack of diligence. ‘Ah, I give him one task! You kids never listen.’

‘I don’t care! I can’t live with an Alpha!’

‘It will be temporary, okay? Technically he paid the first month’s rent in full along with the entire deposit before you. So unless you want to be out on the street by the end of the day, I suggest you learn to live with it. Besides, it’s not the 1900s anymore, what Omega doesn’t use heat suppressants these days?’

You, of course.

Not that you had reason to divulge your medical history to nothing more than a stranger.

‘How soon can you relocate me?’

‘As soon as another tenant moves out, it’s all yours! I’ll make a note of it right now!’

Mr. Huang, of course, failed to mention the fact that none of his current leases had less than 6 months left to go.

‘Us Alphas get a bad reputation for no reason! Anywho! Jeno seems like a really nice young man!”

“Temporary my ass.” You mutter, picking burnt bits off your breakfast. A really nice young man, or the bane of your existence.

Jeno, your new roommate who makes zero effort to shut the bathroom door before dropping his towel, leaving every inch of skin visible for your puffy half-awake eyes to take in.

Jeno, your new roommate who smirks without breaking his gaze while shutting the door enough for the latch to somehow never lock.

Jeno, your new roommate who has no qualms about how loud his moans bounce off the tile shower walls.

Jeno, your new roommate who strolls through the living room still dripping wet, scrubbing his hair dry aimlessly on his way to the kitchen to sit across from you and take a bite of your uneaten toast while scrolling through his phone, occasionally nudging into your shoulder to point out something he finds hilarious.

Jeno, your new roommate who manages to disrupt your peaceful perfection any chance he gets.

———————————————————

“You don’t get it.”

“What’s not to get? You live with a sexy Alpha, and you’re terminally single. Of course I get it!” Your best friend says, clicking her tongue snarkily. 

“Me being single has nothing to do with this!” You snap back, pacing back and forth through your living room. Occasionally bending to pick up the various scattered belongings your roommate never seems to put away, from different remotes for his numerous consoles to empty snack wrappers. 

“Wait, these are my chips!” You snicker, turning on your heel to storm into the kitchen. “This guy has no respect for me, he thinks I’m an idiot!”

“Oh come on, don’t be ridiculous! He seemed really nice the other day when I dropped you off.”

“You met him for 2 seconds and asked me if he has a girlfriend, you have no right to an opinion.” Shifting your phone between your shoulder and ear, you begin to inspect your cabinet, noticing different items missing.

“I knew it!” You exclaim, glaring before quickly explaining that you need to hang up.

“Jeno! did you eat my ramen again?!?”

Another day of living with an Alpha, and another day full of frustration.

From your toothpaste spilling out because someone continues to lie about using it and never properly closing the tube, to your roommate carrying the faint scent of your favorite body wash combined with his overbearing zesty bergamot Alpha musk. Not to mention the amount of times you’ve noticed your groceries diminishing before you could even touch them.

Jeno has more than just an affinity for your belongings, he either had to be doing this on purpose, to annoy you, or he truly did not comprehend the meaning of ‘invasion of privacy’.

“Jeno!” 

It’s Sunday, the day you both coincidentally always end up staying home. Not that you do go out for much other than for work and to complete errands— something your roommate never fails to mention when taunting you for being a stay-at-home ‘hermit’.

The beginning of your tantrum goes unnoticed, of course, because while every little thing he does manages to itch through your limbs in the most irritating of ways, Jeno could care less. Your presence never fazed him, if anything you only brought amusement to his day the more you’d stomp and reprimand him over minuscule happenings.

“Jeno!” Another shout of his name is the only warning you give before breaking into his bedroom. The crinkled empty packet of ramen gripped tightly in your hold; because why bother throwing out the evidence after eating the last pack? That would mean he gave a shit.

“Jeno! what the fuck is your prob—“

The scent of crushed up lemon hits you first before the familiar bergamot; dripping sticky bitter fruity juice between, staining everything surrounding along the way with acid. It’s more than overwhelming, locking your knees together, melting your feet to the floor, ferociously curling through your gut. 

It’s not Jeno’s usual scent, it’s arousal. His usually annoying scent that clings to every inch of this apartment clouded by raw, depraved, hungry, unmated feral Alpha arousal.

The headphones attached to his head block out the sound of your shrill annoyance, computer screen in front of him displaying a video of a desperate Omega clawing at bed sheets; hurled closer to the camera filming them. Rough thrusts and a fist secured in her hair rip her neck into a painful arch, making the shot of her breasts clapping together much too clear. Tear stained cheeks glow ahead, lifted up by a smile and what you can only assume from reading her lips is ‘More! PLEASE more!’

Jeno grunts from his chest, a loud thwack of skin meeting skin blends with the thick buzz of pleasure filling the four walls you stand awestruck in the middle of, unable to convince yourself to leave and pretend this never happened.

The empty package of ramen drops from your fingers, clutching at your stomach to calm the heat that’s begun to spring, pushing lower the more seconds pass stuck in place; lost to the humid scent of your roommate’s sweat trickling down the side of his face.

Too engulfed with his need to get off, the Alpha has yet to notice you; his profile illuminated by the screen radiating the most light in his dimly lit bedroom. Hems focused, gnawing on his bottom lip with skin folded between his eyebrows, releasing short staggered breaths the faster his forearm jerks. Floppy strands of dark blue hair bounce above his sharp eyebrows, muscular arm rippling beautifully under the shadowed light the more power he exerts.

The deafening obscene sound of flesh meeting flesh draws your gaze lower, choking on a dry inhale at the sight of the tip of his glistening length.  

‘This is an invasion of privacy’ you think, convincing yourself to step back without caution. 

“Ughh, fuck!��� Jeno’s voice rings out deep, gravelly and strained as if he’s been edging himself for hours, and maybe he has..

The realization that you’d last seen him this morning on his way to the kitchen flashes across the back of your mind. 

Jeno had paused in his tracks upon spotting you stretched in a split on a yoga mat. Skin tight shorts riding up your bottom, bunched up between your cheeks catching him off guard with his foot stuck mid-air.

‘Uhh..’

Peering over your shoulder, you see his jaws half hung open, his pink lips parted with a lost gaze. ‘What?’

He didn’t respond, continuing to eye from the curve in your stretched foot up to your waist dipping in, unable to neglect a throbbing sensation starting to form inside of his sweats.

‘Jeno!’ You called out annoyed, twisting into another stretch that only arches your back deeper. ‘Do you need something?’

The Alpha straightened up, clearing his throat with a shake of his head before continuing to the kitchen, his hands mindlessly reaching for your half of the cabinet in search of something to munch on; he hadn’t had time to go to the store this week yet, and maybe your food just tastes better than his.

Fuck.

Jeno couldn’t stop himself from sneaking looks over his shoulder, struck by the way you’d gently blot your face free of sweat. The rise and fall of your chest only spurting more thoughts he knows better than to allow himself to have.

It’s been almost a month of this now, of struggling to keep himself collected each time he leaves his room to find you either glaring at him from the kitchen table over a steaming cup of coffee or bent over in some suggestive position. Whether it be with your head buried in a cabinet searching for your favorite ramen bowl that he may or may not have purposely hidden, or your stupid pilates stretches. Those stupid stupid positions you put yourself in, some he had no idea one could even contort themself into.

It wasn’t much at first, Jeno thought sure, yeah, you’re cute. Maybe you’re really cute, especially when you huff and puff around your shared living quarters complaining about your toothpaste again.

It really was a mistake the first time he used it, but the way you bursted into his room screaming about how you pay extra to maintain a pearly white smile tickled him more than it should have. 

Creamy wash dangled from the dispenser of your favorite body wash, the one that blended beautifully with your natural scent and clung to the shower walls even hours after you’d already finished washing up. He swiped it off, dragging the sugary sweet white soap down the center of his chest. A spark of excitement heightened the lower he dragged, easy to imagine you there, taking your time to scrub and rub the bubbly foam over your skin until it felt silky smooth; as silky smooth as your bare arm felt against his bumping into each other in the hallway. Soft enough for an apology to get lost on his lips..

‘Sor—‘ Jeno drifted off, the area you grazed prickling on his arm. A tingle shot up his limb from the slight contact, curling his sock covered toes into the carpet while you glared and cursed him under your breath back on your way inside of your bedroom as if you felt nothing at all.

He tried to stay subtle about it, knowing you threw a fit about getting paired with an Alpha to live with, but it became more difficult with each passing day.

Maybe snatching a pair of your underwear had been a mistake, but as he saw them fall from your freshly dried hamper of laundry he couldn’t deny this must be fate. Not with how soft the cotton material felt against his nose, not with the fresh and airy scent of your wash sticking to his palms. 

Maybe jerking off with a handful of your body wash hadn’t been the best idea, but he couldn’t deny how much easier picturing you on your knees under the showerhead had become, even after cumming on the wall with his face smashed against the foggy tile; sadly watching his need for you swirl it’s way down the drain.

That’s how Jeno found himself once again searching up Omega’s submitting for their Alpha on the heat hub.

Maybe he returned to the search page for roommates fucking during heats and ruts more than once, maybe he never clicked out. Especially from one particular video featuring an Omega with similar features as yours, an added bonus that she too hated her roommate much like you.

“UGH!” Another whined groan snaps you back to reality, stumbling back as Jeno’s hips jump forward, fucking into his fist faster to climax in time with the video playing.

The bend in his neck accompanied with a string of moans shatters your resilience, stepping on your own foot with the other too distracted as you step back. The small shelf near his door meets your elbow and crashes down, pouring out a pile of video games and DVDs noisily; cursing under your breath at your failed attempt to sneak away without notice.

“Shitshitshit!”

“What the fuck?!” Jeno twists fast, too fast, lunging his head back with the headphones still plugged into his computer. He scatters, speedily shoving his length back inside of his sweats with one hand as his other works to shut off the screen. “What the fuck are you doing in here!”

“I—I—“ dropping to your knees, you try to speak. Tongue heavy in your mouth causing you to stutter, aimlessly patting for the door frame to get out. A familiar pang of heat quickly surfaces, screaming for an Alpha to take advantage of you any way they please.

Jeno fumbles to stand, stopping dead in his tracks when it hits him. Stronger than his own scent, the undeniable waft of Omega slick punches through his chest, choking on a deep inhale of your body's release practically begging to be claimed.

“Heat?” He says quietly to himself, jaw slowly falling open watching you try to move away. Crawling backward with your palms on the floor into the hallway. With the little bit of strength you still have, you turn to run on your knees through the hall, coughing against the urge to stay put and let the Alpha in your presence strip you down to nothing. 

Your bedroom door clicks shut just in time to catch sight of Jeno rushing out of his, stampeding over to crash against the door slamming shut in his face.

“You’re in heat??” He asks, sounding it utter awe. Licking across his lips to remoisten them, he’s still too shocked to process everything, groaning with his groin shoved flat to the door to stave off his hunger. The idea that you fell into heat because of him doing more than enough to get him off.

“Aw come on,” Jeno presses closer to the outside of your bedroom door. A smirk evident in his voice as his warm cheek drags against the chilled wood to speak near the small crevice between the frame. “All of this arguing about lack of privacy for weeks and here you are, triggered your heat because you were being a pervert? Naughty naughty.”

“Go away!” You clamber to barricade yourself in even though the doors locked, stuffing a pillow over your face to minimize the pained shriek you let out.

Jeno sighs, softly knocking his forehead against the door. “Promise I’ll be nice if you let me in, it must hurt..” 

“Not in heat.” You croak in anguish, dropping your head back to suppress a cramp spiking between your thighs. 

“Sure baby..” Jeno’s lips tighten, wondering how long it’s been since you last went into heat with an Alpha around; your scent’s dizzying, churning his already aroused brain to nothing but a pile of mush. “Bet it’s been so long since anyone touched you, hmm? you know you can’t get through this alone.”

“I said go away Jeno!” 

The mix of your scents tastes like a drug poured onto your tongue with each struggled breath you take, burying your nose into your pillow harder to keep the Alpha’s more powerful one subdued. It’s impossible with him so close, practically seeping through your walls with each taunting word and delighted laugh he lets out.

“Liked what you saw that much, Omega?” He’s brazen now, fully digesting what this means after weeks of pining for you in secret. Jeno can barely contain a smile, momentarily grateful for the door keeping you divided. “How much did you see, baby?”

He sighs through the door, dragging his knuckles up and down, the sound of it looming above where you crouch and listen. “Did you know I was thinking about you? I always do now. Always think about your soft pretty scent, your tight ass bent over on my bed, teasing me until I stop gaming and fuck the life out of you.”

A gasp collects in your pillow, tightening your legs closer together to stop yourself from squealing as another dollop of slick pours out. The shorts you still had on after finishing your morning workout completely wrecked now. “I know you saw it, you saw everything, didn’t you? Is that what did it for you, baby? Watching me jerk off to another Omega? Did you know I had you on my mind?”

Jeno waits, chewing his bottom lip while picturing your stunned face again; silently absorbing the heavy aroma of slick you left between the hallway walls. “Come on baby, did you know I was thinking about you? Pretending my pretty roommate cried and begged me to go harder, fuck you faster and deeper like some needy Omega bitch in heat..”

Breath lodges in your throat upon his admission, caring less whether it be true or false, he knew exactly what to say to turn your insides upside down. 

“Come on, open the door for Alpha.” 

A minute of silence passes, and you think about it. 

Jeno could help you through your heat, this living situation is temporary anyway. It’s too late to find a clinic to suffer it out at, and your heat wasn’t supposed to hit until next month. You had no time left to prepare, and if your memory serves you right— you need new batteries too.

As much as you try to deny an attraction to your roommate after daily complaints, it’s not as if you have been able to ignore how nervous his presence alone makes you.

Jeno annoys you because you like him, and that’s upset you ever since the day you met.

The tips of your fingers brush around your doorknob, pushing onto your knees with a sniffle into your pillowcase. 

“Go away Jeno,” you say finally, shoving back to curl into a ball as your Omega screams to let him in.

“Fine, suit yourself and suffer in there alone all you want.” He chuckles, tapping up and down your door to create a drum that accompanies his sweet vocals. “I’ll be in my room where you found me, waiting for when you’re ready. Come out, come out whenever you want, Omega.”

Footsteps rain heavily through the corridor, beating against your ear. You sigh defeatedly, returning to press up and listen for the familiar sound of his bedroom door shutting. It takes more than a minute, the Alpha lingering down the hall in wait, expecting you to succumb and claw your way out with your hands positioned ready for prayer and beg for his help.

He sighs quietly, but loud enough to your alert senses, shuffling back to his bedroom with the door shutting but not clicking to lock.

You know he means it, it’s an invitation, precisely as he said to recreate what you caught him watching.

The better part of your conscience commends your ability to stay put and control your natural instinct that craves every inch of the Alphas skin under your tongue, but the devil you ignore clawing at your shoulder chants otherwise.

“Fuck me.” You hiss between grinding teeth, pushing your underwear down for a pinch of relief. The first touch of air-conditioned breeze rustling between your hips aches more than usual. In fact, everything aches more than usual, never once had any heat hit you this hard and left you this aroused before.

This had to be Jeno’s fault. Stupid Alpha leaving his enticing scent everywhere. Stupid Alpha pushing your buttons for weeks until you ended up here on your knees contemplating how much more of this you can take.

Delirium takes over your brain before you can even sweep your fingers between your thighs. Slick aggressively pours down the inside of your legs, sticky and wet down to the pits of your knees making everything all the more uncomfortable. 

Heats had been bearable for the most part, mostly able to handle it yourself, even still showing up to work on your last couple of days with how well you managed to control your Omegas desires and stayed on top of using suppressants.

Jeno just had to show up and fuck up everything for you, with his stupid dark shiny eyes, his stupid attractive smile, and his extra stupid ripped stature that ignited a hint of fear in your gut every time he stood near you, every time his solid flesh so much as rubbed against yours.

As if your Omega could predict your next move, the devil on your shoulder cheered, encouraging you to hurry before ‘our Alpha’ grows more agitated with us.

“Useless.” Banging your head against the wall, you smear a slick painted on your hand across your shirt, shuddering as another pained moan slips out of you.

Silently pleading for forgiveness to no one other than yourself, your last shred of self-restraint evaporates, twisting the knob to collapse out onto the hallway floor. Jeno’s room seems further than ever now as your knees burn to carry you across the expanse of space separating the two of you. The journey down the hall pricks through your bones, cracking and hurting until you finally barge into his bedroom.

The Alphas exactly as you’d found him earlier seated at his computer chair, another video playing on the screen, headphones back on. 

“Alpha..”

A smirk creeps onto his face before looking over to watch you miserably trudge through his room, pathetic with drool already dripping from the corners of your lips.

“Jeno..” Your knees burn and bruise against the floor, slowly crawling deeper in without strength to open the door properly. He fully expected for you to lose control of yourself and find your way back to him, on your knees again as you’d left earlier.

Shifting with his feet paddling against the floor, he swivels side to side waiting until you near close enough to clutch onto his calves, burying your digits along his sweats to hoist yourself higher. “Alpha..”

“You think you deserve anything from me? After I offered you my help so nicely?” Jeno tsks, maintaining an icy expression. Eyes narrowed and jaw locked tight to keep up his cold unforgiving composure even as you pull harder on his sweats to lift yourself between his thighs; even while you drag your face against his upper thigh panting like a thirsty pup. 

“I think you owe me..” he says, sucking in a breath between his teeth, leaning his neck to one side. “How can you expect Alpha to willingly help you after treating me like this?” 

Jeno continues on, pouting when you scratch at his chest. The collar of his shirt dragged down by your grip on the material to pull yourself closer to him. 

“Please, please Alpha, n—need.” You whisper, pressing a wet kiss to his navel that sets a chill of heat down to his groin. The combination of your fierce grip on him and the heat radiating from your fingertips has him fighting to keep calm, slowly allowing his eyelashes to flutter shut as the scent of your prominent thick slick crashes like high-tide waves against his skull.

“What do you need?” Jeno says, lowering his gaze to pan over the distress that’s taken over your beautiful features. 

“Alpha please, please don’t make me..”

The dark glints lining his iris flicker with shards of gold and reds from listening to your groveling, but not enough to break his defiance. “Why should I still be nice? Have you been very nice to me, baby?”

With a clear head you’d probably snicker, bite back and mock him in return, but with heat completely engulfing your body you couldn’t find a care to argue. A coughed wail runs from your throat, stradling the small space left on his lap to wrap around the Alphas broad shoulders and soothe your raging heart with his usual bitter scent that’s ripened, sweet as a bowl of freshly cut fruit; staining your tongue with traces of acidity on a hot summer day. 

Gripping your waist, suckinghe sucks in a breath as he admires the amount of space his large hands are able to cover. Squeezing you tight as the idea of bruises and marks created by his hands showing up on your hips and thighs manifests beyond fantasy. “There there, you know Alpha will take care of you.”

Jeno pinches your chin, having to bite back his lower lip at the way your mouth wobbles; glossy gaze staring back at him pleading to be ruined. “Good Omegas know how to ask for what they need.”

“Jeno!” You whine, sniffling before a tear slips feeling more desperate and humiliated as he grasps your hip with one firm hand to stop you from grinding. “Please! I need you!”

The magic words pour from your lips, returning the Alphas hold to wrap around your waist to drag you closer; rolling his hips up simultaneously to press your bare core against his sweats forming a darkened puddle of slick upon his groin. “Smell so good for me baby, that’s all for me, right?” 

There’s something akin to desperation in the way Jeno’s stares at you while saying your name, pressing the pads of his fingers in your cheeks as he waits for you to speak, to reaffirm that you need him, not just any Alpha but him.

Pawing at his chest, you slowly nod, dipping closer to inhale every bit of him. For a small sliver of his taste to meet your lips. The scent you’ve begun to grow accustomed to feels even more overpowering now, aromatic and lucid inducing; hypnotizing your hips to roll faster for any type of friction against your center. 

Jeno forces your lips into a pout, allowing three breaths to pass between you before closing the small distance with his soft pink pout swallowing yours.

He kisses with equal hunger, nestled between your lips to suck and rub. The end of his tongue finding space inside of your mouth as you let out a gasp of surprise. Jeno’s big hands run down your back, kneading your ass over your shirt on the way to grip your thighs. 

The Alpha effortlessly moves to stand, lifting you with a secured hold around your thighs to set you on an empty space on his desk. Warm hands roam over your body, pushing beneath your shirt to clutch onto your waist again, this time with his digits sinking directly into your flesh. 

“You feel so good, so soft.” Jeno says between breaths, mesmerized by how smooth you feel. His hips rut up between yours, further smearing around the mess of slick coating his sweats. 

Bending lower, Jeno lays you back on his desk, licking the spit that's ended on your chin, rubbing his nose against yours before returning to your parted lips to plunge deep inside of your mouth; tongue gliding along yours. 

“Al-alpha..” moans continuously spew between strokes of his tongue, losing comprehension with another piston of his hips. The Alphas growing bulge presses stiff against your center, rubbing impatiently on your clit. “please, need you, n—need you now”

Jeno grunts, chewing your lips with his hands exploring, from squeezing your thighs and ass to tracing your shape up to your chest. He’s everywhere, mauling your mouth as he grinds harder, massaging your breasts with a strong hold, fingers tweaking your hardened buds. If not for his unrelenting will to not immediately fuck into you, you’d be sure he’s in rut.

“Need you too.” Jeno whimpers, winding the fabric of your t-shirt around your waist as a handle to grip and jam against you harder. “Need to taste you, feel every part of you.”

“Please, y-yes, Alpha please.”

Jeno nods rapidly, breaking into a sweat still fully clothed above you, large and powerful with his demanding empty thrusts that spiral up your chest, craving for more, more of the Alpha to consume you, more more more.

“Can you cum like this?” He asks breathlessly, a hint of whine singing from his throat as he bends to lick up your jaw, trailing up your ear to suck on. “Cum for me baby, wanna taste you.”

“Alpha, n-no—” his pace is unforgiving now, pushing your shirt up to stuff into your mouth muffling your moans. Jeno grunts listening to the nasty wetness between you, slick dripping down between his thighs leaving his sweats soaked. The table under you a complete mess of arousal smearing its way up to your lower back.

“Oh fuck!” With gritted teeth he pulls away to watch your chest heave, hips lifting up in desperate need. A stream of slick pulses out, squirting onto his shirt and the space under you, landing with a loud obscene splash. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

He can’t wait any longer, dropping to his knees quickly, his mouth attaches to your entrance before you can finish. Swallowing and sucking the last spurts of slick, the shock of his tongue dipping in shooting your spine rigid; bowing up into an arch with your feet scrambling to settle on the desk. “Alpha!”

Jeno groans from deep within his chest, his tongue working in and out of your convulsing heat instantly unable to get enough of the slick pouring down his throat. “Do you even know how good you taste?” 

The Alpha growls between slurping slick and licking between your folds, his nose covered with a layer of wetness from dragging up and down your exposed center. The tip of it rolling your clit into a mind-numbing circle as he takes a deep breath, slick filling his nostrils leaving him with hardly any space to breathe.

“Fuckfuck.” Jeno feels out of his mind, days of jerking off to the thought of you all leading to this moment. Ravenous with hunger to swallow you whole, he sucks on your labia folds, alternating the velvety flesh with light nips and pointed licks. Fat stripes of his tongue drag from your rim to your clit, lips pursed around the bundle of nerves to make you shriek.

A repeated chant of ‘so fucking good’ between deep intakes of wet breath sounds between your moans, heated palms squeeze your hips pushing onto the backs of your thighs to lift your lower back from the desk. Jeno stays bent over driving in deeper at this new angle, his tongue pushing in and out stretching your walls purposefully. 

Heat licks through your stomach when the Alpha pushes two digits in alongside his tongue, the stretch torturous as he falls into a fast-paced pump. Long thin fingers scissor way inside of you against the strain his tongue works up to, wiggling in deeper until his jaw hinges and locks. The tension in his muscle eliciting a grunt that fills your insides with toe curling vibrations.

Jeno imagines he could die with his face buried between your thighs, wondering how he went this long without your slick lathered on his tongue. His nose rubs back and forth against your clit the more he attempts to push in, slipping another finger into you. 

“Jeno! I’m—fuck!” You keen, wrinkling between your eyebrows as a shout and another wave of pleasure crashes over you. White heat filled with lust blacks out your senses as climax fully hits, having to reach for chunks of the Alphas hair to yank at between wailing for him to stop.

The Alphas ears feel foggy, clouded with fuzzy cotton and the screams of your pleased moans. He works past your orgasm, tongue gliding out to only focus on your clit, striking it in repeated motion with lick after lick; long fingers gaining momentum as he buries a fourth in and jackhammers another orgasm out of you. 

Your next release hits faster, his arm stiffening to push the tips of his digits against a spongy spot deep inside of you, splaying his other hand under your bellybutton with a harsh suck around your bundle of nerves. 

“Jeno!” 

Screams sound around the room, eyes rolling to the back of your skull with the assault from the Alphas merciless fingers and mouth. Slick rushes out viscously bursting past the digits lodged deep inside of you, coming to a still as he enjoys the stream smacking him across the face. 

“Holy fuck.” Jeno sighs, licking the mess off his lips before dragging out and kissing from over your slit to your entrance, hips twitching up with a whine from the oversensitivity.

“So perfect..” the Alpha mumbles quietly, not loud enough for you to hear over your euphoric daze; still lost in heat and addictive gratification.

He’s quick to strip himself, kicking off the sweats you’ve ruined and coming to stand up straight above you, looming large and broad.

“Never seen a prettier Omega.” He flatters, holding onto your knees to keep you spread open. Another embarrassing wad of slick leaks at the visual of the Alphas built frame hovering above you, his chest defined and abdomen etched in solid muscle, inching closer to your core. “With the prettiest pussy too.”

“Alpha, fuck me already, please!” You preen, squirming in his hold. His praise only does more to heighten your impatience and despair, squirming against the desk impatiently.

“Want me that much hmm? You going to cum that hard on my cock for me too?” Jeno clicks his tongue, sucking a breath between his teeth to lessen his Alphas rage to take you right now. The thought of fucking you for the first time anywhere other than his bed not sitting right with him. Leaning over, he kisses you softly, savoring the pilant moans you share between licks across the seam of your lips. Trailing his tongue inside to twist against yours and pull, drawing your neck and waist to arch up and allow his arms belt around you. 

Surprising you with his strength, he squats to haul you off the table, his bed not far off to lay you flat even with his legs shaking after staying hard for this long. Jeno can feel his last semblance of power disappear as he helps you out of your shirt, fully exposed beneath him with your face hidden and ducked against your shoulder as you flush. Suddenly shy with the Alphas dark glossy gaze taking his sweet time to scan your figure and caress your delicate curves.

“So pretty for your Alpha..” Jeno whispers, completely enraptured. Sleek eyes glazed over as they pass across every inch of skin, tickling down your sides to grab onto your hips again. The hiss you let out lets him know it hurts, bruises surely forming in the shapes of his fingers, an image to revel in until he can properly claim you.

“Alpha, fuck me.. please fuck me.” You whine more feverishly now, reaching to scratch and pinch his waist and meld your bodies closer, his thighs forming more space between your hips to settle his length against your core.

“Do you even understand what you’re begging me to do baby?” Jeno questions, lapping his mouth clean as his palm flattening around your throat. “Begging for Alpha to ruin you.”

“Wa—want you, want you to ruin me.” His grip tightens, snaking your throat with a chokehold when you plead for him to make it hurt, make it hurt good enough to remember. “Pl—please..”

“What if I need everything, what if I need every part of you?” He breathes harshly, hips rolling forward to drag his size between your gushing folds. “Will you give me that? Give me everything.”

“Everything,” tears spring free as your hands reach to wrap around his forearm, trembling head to toe with each pass of the Alphas cock from your navel to your clit, the stimulation pushing your mind deeper into an abyss of heat and desire. “I’m yours.”

Jeno’s throat jumps, cursing under his breath as he litters a path of kisses down your jaw, nipping your chin on his way to your chest. Perfectly straight pearly teeth bury into the pert mound of your breast with a growl, shaking his head to sink deeper into the fleshy meat and leave a mark. “So good, so fucking good.”

Loosening his hold on your neck, he traces upward, nestling the end of his nose along the column of your throat in search of your scent gland. His lungs lock dry and tight as he takes a deep long inhale of the sweet fragrance he’s become infatuated with; nipping at your warm skin, teasing you with the threat of marking you to be his. Threat of taking a chance to easily claim you as his mate. Sharp canines dig in enough to break the skin and leave indentations, staying still for seconds to let your scent flow down and fill his lungs.

Thrill races through your spine, having the Alpha this close to your scent gland. Arching for more movement between your bodies, your nails dig into his sculpted sides scratching down leaving viscous red lines in their wake, encouraging him to leave a mark.

Jeno sucks using more strength, raising blood to the surface on your neck in the pattern of a necklace, one for his hand to latch onto and deepen later.  

“Jeno, c—can’t—” ragged breath lodges between your lungs with his palm returning to constrict your throat, fingers digging into the sides congesting your next inhale. He growls roughly, like shards of glass have ruined his vocal chords. 

“You like that baby?” 

Barely able to nod, your body speaks for you as another glob of slick runs down the Alphas length leaving his balls dripping wet onto the bedding. “Get so wet for me, you get wet like this for anyone else?” 

“You, you Alpha.” You cry, desperately horny enough to say anything he wants at this point. Brought down to nothing but a pile of putty in his ruthless rough hands, willing to hand over your world for him to destroy.

He hums pleased, licking at the sweat blanketing his upper lip and using your throat to push his shoulders up, gawking in awe at the area you’ve drenched between your lower halves. Slick coats his thighs, abdomen shining under soft light reflecting off of him, the bed topper beneath you ruined. “You like me that much?”

He kisses at the backs of his teeth, rutting between your folds without control, losing his breath as he watches the tip of his size reach past your twitching navel with each swipe up. “Fuck, you gonna be good for me? Be a good Omega for Alpha and take it all?”

“Yesyesyes! Be so good, anything—” you blubber, coughing with your thighs clenched around his hips to lure him in. Hands scrabble on his wrist and forearm to loosen his hold on your neck, wheezing for air. “So good for you Alpha, a—anything.”

Jeno grabs a hold of his length, gripping snuggly around the base to calm himself, leisurely dragging his tip between your folds. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

The thick aroused scent emitting off of you only grows heavier with his murmured flattery, a fresh dollop of slick bubbling out and drenching Jeno’s heavy sack. Tears cling to your eyelashes, a watery plead to be fucked echoes out, blurring past the Alphas ears when another waft of your scent spins his head into an alternate universe; mindlessly dipping the tip of his cock past your tight entrance.

“W—want you inside,” you say, fluttering your eyes shut nervously. “Want all of you inside Alpha, wanna be full of your pups.”

Jeno’s chest tightens, grinding his teeth as he inches deeper into your heat. The wet warmth makes the room spin, compressing his lungs in a way that brings him closer to what can only be described as death, and he knows he’s fucked. He’ll never be able to get enough of you after this.

“Feel you s—so deep,” you stammer, sliding a palm down to your navel to rest against the skin that’s begun to distend as the Alpha stills, head drooping between his shoulders to lower his uncontrollable moans. “Wanna feel your cum.. drip out of me.”

Jeno can’t stop himself from shouting, cursing under his breath while throwing back his head. Wet walls clamp around his size, the pressure shooting through his balls to fuck you with a renewed feral urgency. 

Shifting back, the Alpha gazes down between your bodies where you connect, jaw hung loose mesmerized by your cunt refusing to release him. Your walls squeezing, milking his length to your content until he finally sees the tip only to ram forward and fall into a brutal pace.

Hunching forward he bounces you deeper against the bed, exactly where he’d always planned to have his way with you. Fuck you until you cry and beg exactly as you are now. The nonsense and pleasured sounds dripping off your tongue playing like a tune to the rapid volume of flesh meeting flesh. Sharp hips barrel against your thighs, meeting fierce enough to leave bruises in their aftermath. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” Jeno whimpers, pushing his mouth against yours, melting into a messy kiss that’s more drool than lips meeting. Teeth clink together, swallowing shared breaths between failed attempts of locking lips. “How are you this perfect for me?”

The Alphas hands cup under your ass, groping to lift your bottom up and meet his furious speed. Tingles explode throughout your limbs from his praises, searching for refuge in his shoulder to hide the undeniable burn racing across your cheeks.

“Don’t hide from me, baby.” Jeno commands, pressing his nose against your cheek. “My pretty Omega.”

Raspy sweet vocals sing everything you need to hear right now, the constant mine mine mine twisting up your gut. The Alphas thick length works fast, thrusting into you at a spine-breaking pace, lifting your waist up to arch.

“Pl—please, please,” you croak, biting down on Jeno’s shoulder as a blood curdling scream tears through your chest. His cock catches on your entrance with each pull out, wrapping your legs tighter to lock your ankles around his lower back.

“What are you begging for?” the Alpha mouths at your jaw, nipping and licking sweat off your cheek. 

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” 

Jeno can’t believe what a slut his roommate is, already fucked stupid and still demanding more. Moving to slide his arms under your back, he sets a violent pace. The scream you let out scratching your vocal chords up, urging him to fuck you faster. Fuck you until your heat breaks.

“Yesyesyes! Alpha!”

“God,” he gasps, disoriented. Disbelief of how well you take it rocking his brain side to side. Taking it like you belong to him already. “Made for me, aren’t you baby?” 

He’s fucking into you even faster, harder, every inch meticulously dragging inside of you. The room humid and hot with a combined heat building off your bodies, skin beating against yours all sweaty, sticky, covered in slick.

“Fuck baby, how are you still so f-fucking tight.” Jeno preens, his voice cracking the more you clench around. “Feel too good, feel too damn good..”

Planting you with another sloppy kiss, he straightens back to push your thighs against to chest. Weighing more on your air passage as his hips drop faster, knees bracketed around your distraught face adding to how delirious and lost you feel.

“Al—alpha.. br—..” with a lifeless sigh, you crumble. Angled perfectly to watch his length bury in and out of you. The thick size of his girth spreading your cunt open more than you’ve ever seen, breaking you to never need anyone else. No one would ever come close. “Breed me.”

Jeno’s eyes snap open, his hands squeezing roughly along the backs of your legs. He can’t stop now, not with how you gaze up at him like he’s a God. The hazy stare you focus on him, admiring the man above you so full of list, sending him toppling over the edge. 

Tears, drool, and sweat spill past your lips, huffing empty breathless cries. The Alphas cock burying into you to the brim protruding your stomach out again. His massive size rearranging your insides, erasing the last shred of sanity you had with another roll of his hips.

Incoherent noises break from your parched throat, the most painful and satisfying orgasm ripping through your body, strong enough to leave you feeling brainless. Eyes rolled back as your lower half jerks, squirting aggressively enough for Jeno to nearly break into tears as he stays rooted inside of you against the pressure trying to rip past his length and push him out of the way.

“God damn..”

He fucks you through it, dragging your limp body higher up the bed as he races to completion. A gutted growl slices through the thick air around you, his knot expanding as hot white ropes painting your insides. Teeth gritted as he leans down and lays a pathway of kisses up your chest, licking over your scent gland again, more desperate to bite and have you as his mate.

The Alphas knot continues to stretch you open and grown, instinctively lulling another weak orgasm out of you the more your tight muscle pulls around him. Locked together with half-lidded eyes lazily taking in the afterglow painted over your expressions, the heat subdues enough to at least feel half-awake and process reality for the moment.

“Thank you..”

Jeno smiles, adjusting his arms to loop around your waist and position you both more comfortably on your sides until his knot deflates. “Why are you thanking me?”

“Because..” you mumble, tucking in your chin to hide as warmth rushes to your cheeks. “..I wanna be good for you..”

His cock pulsates watching your expression shift to a demure innocent one, stifling a groan by biting on his lip. He nudges your forehead with his nose, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“You are the best for me.”

Jeno’s affirmations reach deep with your heat feeding off the Alphas energy, the ache between your thighs stinging again, punching through your gut. Tightening around his length as he slims down to a normal size.

“Alpha..”

“My baby needs more already?” He smiles softly, pecking away the pout you give him as he maneuvers to slowly pull out of you.

“Come on, present yourself, show me how much you want it. Show me how good you can be for your Alpha.” Jeno says with a hint of cockiness laced through his tone. Slapping your hip enough to sting and have you lazily turning over, hissing as your knees drag on the wet bedding; lowering your chest to shove your ass out with a defined arch in your spine. 

He can’t believe how wrecked your cunt looks already, swollen and coated in his seed. His fingers smear the mess of your mixture up to push more inside of your hole, drawing sad little whines out. “Perfect Omega for me. Mine.”

Sniffling, you nod, swaying your hips for more even if you feel ready to pass out. “Yours.”

The Alpha sits up on his knees, slapping the underside of his length against your rim and slit creating filthy sounds of wetness around you. His cock coats in the remnants of his release and slick that won’t stop flowing out of you. “Fill you up with my pups, like my good Omega deserves.” 

Sheathing back in, he lets out a guttural groan, eyes rolling back as blunt nails dig into your sides. His cock throbs against your swelled walls, wasting no time to fuck and breed you full of cum again and again. The reminder that you belong to him now never failing to sing from his lips release after release with his hands tangled in yours. 

“Mine, meant to be mine.”

The Alphas aroma shifts the air around you before he can settle back into bed, humming as he plops back onto the space next to you.

“You’re not going to believe this but..” Jeno laughs bitterly, nuzzled against your side with his phone in hand. “Mr. Huang emailed about an eviction on the Alpha floor..”

“Hmm? Eviction?” You question lazily. Still drowsy with your nose buried in Jeno’s pillow to quell your heat for a moment.

“Yeah.. looks like I can move out by next week..” he trails off mournfully, clearing his throat as he locks his phone.

“Move out?? What?” those words are enough to have you shooting up to sit, hissing from the way your entire body stings. “Wht?!”

“Uhm, because you want me to move out?” Sitting up on his elbows, he cocks an eyebrow, the one he recently put a slit in that you absolutely hate(love). “Weren’t you just ranting to your friend about how insufferable and disrespectful I am?”

“See, eavesdropping is disrespectful,” rolling your eyes, you lightly smack his tight stomach, returning to cuddle into the Alphas pillow. An instant blanket of calm wraps around your limbs with one inhale as his trademark scent consumes your senses. “Do you want to move?”

“Not really..” Jeno admits, laying back down to meet you at eve-level. “I doubt a new roommate would buy the same great snacks and ramen you always manage to find.”

“Do you see how you’re insufferable?” You tut, rolling your eyes playfully. 

“As long as you’re willing to live with me.. I’d like to stay.” He smiles genuinely, draping an arm around your waist to press closer. “..and maybe see where this goes..”

“This?”

“Us.”

“..when’s your next rut?” 

Jeno cracks into a wide smile at that, tickling up your back to make you curl into yourself and expose your throat for him to kiss and lick.

He may or may not have made all of that up, who knows really. It’s not as if he doesn’t proudly carry the title of being your insufferable Alpha roommate without good reason.

[gracieheartspedro]

No One Fucks With My Baby

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller (based on established back story from my oneshot Who We Are)

description: everyone now knows that you are joel's girl. when you're working a busy night at the bison, a newbie stirs up a bit of trouble. joel handles it the only way he knows how and you thank him the only way you know how.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, drunk old men who harass reader, joel fucks them up, mentions of blood, glass breaking (?), voyeurism, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names

author's note: this fic is dedicated to the birthday girl @ilovepedro !!! happy birthday sweet nini, I love you so much! thank you for helping me edit this, but more importantly, thank you for being a wonderful friend. you make the world a better place. love you always <3

after the amazing love I got on "Who We Are", I decided to add to the universe. let me know if y'all want more! xoxo, gracie

“Didn’t know they made jeans that low cut!”

You were used to stupid comments made towards you by drunk men. But now that Joel has made it known, you are his, a lot of the men in Jackson kept their advances to themselves. The gentleman at the end of the bar must not know that your big ole’ scary boyfriend was positioned in a booth with Tommy and your father across the room. His eyes had been locked on you for most of the night, and every time he and the guys needed more drinks, he’d be the one to grab more. 

You turn to the drunk man, who had to be your father’s age. He’s practically drooling at the sight of your ass in your favorite jeans. The summer air was not a good combination to a normally humid bar, so you had been wearing less and less clothes behind the bar. You were sporting the jeans and a tighter tank top than usual, mainly because you knew Joel would be around and you loved driving him wild when the shirt rode up on you. 

“You’re gonna catch flies if you don’t close your mouth,” You joke, pouring whiskey for another patron, “Don’t think you’d like the way that would taste.”

The man slams down his glass which causes a couple people to look down at him. You don’t even glance in his direction, knowing if he’s mad, he can take it up with every man in the Tipsy Bison. 

“I don’t take too kindly to sarcastic little sluts.”

Your heart stops. You calmly place the whiskey bottle down beside the shot glass you were pouring into and glance towards the red faced prick. You hear the conversations subside around the room while you lock eyes with the guy who’s bold enough to talk shit to you. 

You know Joel’s already standing up from his spot at his booth, but you move quicker. You position yourself in front of him, leaning over the bar, your eyes raking down the pathetic boy in front of you. 

“Pardon?”

He swallows, realizing how quiet his surroundings got. “I s-said I don’t take kindly to sarcasm.”

You click your tongue, a newfound confidence surging through your body, “I don’t think that’s all you said. Somethin’ about me being a slut?”

“Listen, girl-”

His boots are loud against the hardwood as he approaches you and the man. He stands scarily close to the barstool where the man sits. You don’t break eye contact though, wanting to handle this situation yourself. 

“It’s ma’am, to you,” You cut him off, “I think it’s best if you leave.”

“I haven’t finished my drin-”

Joel reaches around the guy and grabs the whiskey glass from in front of him and slams it on the floor. The guy immediately starts to tremble, shaking like a little leaf. You crack a smile before whispering one final thing to him. 

“Think you’re finished, buddy,” You flick your eyes up at Joel, who’s fury is written all over his face, “Mind walkin’ him out, baby?”

Joel grabs onto the guys shoulder with a bruising grip, “Would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”

He rips the guy from the stool, not even making sure the guy finds his footing. You ignore the shuffle outside and return to your pouring. You feel like your heart may beat out of your chest, but you’re relieved it was handled before Joel got even more handsy with him. You grab the shot glass and hand it to the fellow that was sat by the drunken fool. 

“You got Miller wrapped around your finger,” The guy, who’s name you think is Aaron, says. He was a regular and frequently stopped Joel to talk about morning patrols. You smirk before snatching a rag off your shoulder. 

“Yeah, he’s so wrapped around my finger that he’s gonna clean up all that broken glass.” You joke, wiping down the condensation ring the glasses left on the wooden table top. 

You hear some footsteps approaching and when you look up it’s Tommy. He’s shaking his head, a grin playing on his lips. 

“Where’s the broom? Joel seems busy putting that guy in his place.”

You furrow your brows as you reach for the broom, “What do you mean?”

“I just sent your Dad out there because it sounded like some rustlin’,” Tommy explains, grabbing the stick from you to begin sweeping up the shards, “I’m sure they are handlin’ it.”

Before you can get nervous, you hear the front door swing open quickly. Your Dad and Joel walk in and you can tell Joel is pissed and a bit rattled. You navigate your way around the bar and glass, reaching their booth as soon as Joel sits down. He’s cradling his right hand in his left, hissing in discomfort. 

“What did you do?” You say, reaching out for his hands. There’s two gashes that litter his knuckles, only bleeding slightly. You shake your head when he pulls away from you. 

“Nothin’ baby,” he mumbles, “Just taught the guy it’s not nice to talk to ladies like he did. He walked off with a bloody nose and busted lip when he started talkin’ shit back.”

You roll your eyes, catching your Dad’s glare. 

“Did you break it up?” You press, wanting more of an explanation. 

He shakes his head, “Nope. Joel can handle himself. I did tell the guy when he was walking away that if he talked about my daughter like that again, he’d wouldn’t be able to walk away cause he would have a bullet between his eyes.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms under your chest. “I swear to God…”

Tommy approaches the table, his task of cleaning glass finished. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “You okay?”

“I’d be better if the men in my life weren’t insane,” You joke, nudging Joel’s arm as he inspects his knuckles.

Tommy laughs and sits back down across from your Dad and Joel. While he makes jokes with your Dad, Joel is silent and stirred. You can tell he’s bothered by something more than handling some asshole who called you a name. You decide against pestering him more, allowing him to settle back into conversation with Tommy and your Dad. 

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and return to slinging drinks. 

-

“Thanks for staying while I lock up,” You say to Joel as pushing in the last barstool, “And thanks for earlier.” 

He is propped up on one of the middle pillars, his shoulder resting on the wood while his arms and legs are crossed. He was still being quiet, not giving into conversation. You approach him, your eyes trained on his arms. He was wearing a t-shirt for the first time all summer, which made you feel some type of way. His arms were tanned beautifully and toned. His biceps were perfectly outlined by the thin fabric of the gray t-shirt. 

“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

You glance up at him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Tell me what’s got you all bothered.”

“It’s nothin’,” He uncrosses his arms and reaches out for you. You know it’s not nothing, so you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him forward. He looks a bit surprised. 

“It’s somethin’, so you better tell me what happened.”

He huffs, fanning your face with his breath, “That asshole said some shit about us and it set me off.”

You squeeze him a bit, “What did he say?”

You can tell he does not want to repeat it, but you were not going to let it go. 

“How I’m an old man with a young girl. How I’m old enough to be your dad.”

You feel sick to your stomach at the idea he had to hear some asshole say that. You look down between you, shifting your weight onto your other foot. You started to feel clammy, unsure of a good response that would reassure Joel. 

“He’s just some asshole. What does he know?” You manage to sputter. 

Joel’s shoulder’s sag, “He’s not wrong, though, baby girl. I’m an old man with a younger girl.”

You push away from him, scanning him up and down. You are pissed that he’s even bringing this up again, after all this time. 

“I’m a grown ass woman, Joel. A grown ass woman with a grown ass man. Just because there’s time in between us doesn’t mean we aren’t old enough to make decisions for ourselves.”

His lip curls, “I know baby, I am just saying that sometimes we get odd looks cause of the age difference. I really don’t care anymore… Just caught me off guard, is all.”

You fold your arms, “You put him in his place, right? He’s not gonna come around here sayin’ shit again?”

“He’d be stupid to come near you again. Think I got my point across.”

You feel like you owe him something. You had a couple ways you could repay him, ensuring that he never thinks about those stupid comments again. 

You use your arms to press up your bra a bit, your cleavage more highlighted with the gesture. Joel’s eyes trail down, the scoop neck giving away your suggestive movement. You step closer again, wanting to be in his space. 

“My man…” You trail, your eyes falling to his agape mouth, “Makin’ sure everyone knows I’m his.”

He nods slowly before his hand creeps around your waist, “What are you tryin’ to do, girl?”

“Nothin’,” you click your tongue. “Just thinkin’ of how I could repay you for handlin’ that for me. You hurt yourself defending my honor. I owe you.”

“Don’t think of it that way. You don’t owe me anything,” His fingers start to creep down to the curve of your ass. “But, I would love to see what you had in mind.”

“Oh, you would,” You hum, your arms unfolding to wrap around his neck. “Let’s start by walking back to your house.”

Instead of responding, he dips his head and peppers kisses down your neck, taking his time letting his fingers wander around the skin on your lower back and hips. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every press of his lips. 

“Fuck,” You sigh as you try to bring him closer to you, but he’s not letting up on your neck. He’s suckling spots near your collarbone, groaning as you react to his every move. You knew at this point, this whole situation was in his hands and not yours. 

He lifts his head slowly, letting his bottom lip drag across your skin, “How ‘bout this… How ‘bout I take you right here over this bar? Maybe that asshole is nearby and he can hear how well I give it to ya.”

His proposition sends you into a spiral. You and Joel have had plenty of sex in different places, but the bar? And he wants others to hear? Usually he’s telling you that your moans are for his ears only, and while he wants you to be loud for him, you’re usually too timid to actually vocalize your pleasure. 

You place your hands on his expansive chest, “You want to fuck me here?”

He beams down at your question before he whispers, “I want to fuck you everywhere. Here, your bed, my couch, the shower. Hell, I’ll take you at this bar while people watch.”

“Jesus, Joel,” You huff, almost dizzy from the statement. 

He brings his hand up to tilt your head back so you look at him. When your eyes meet, he brings the hand up around your neck and to the nape, right where your spine starts. 

“God, I need you, sweet girl.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can speak, Joel brings you in for a passionate and eager kiss. He’s feverish, his hands now wandering down to your ass. He starts to walk you backwards towards the now abandoned bar top. You knock into a couple chairs, but his arms keep you from tripping. His hands are propped on your ass, navigating you to the edge of the bar top. When your back is pressed against it, he starts to shove his thumbs under your waist band. He pulls away from your lips to push down your jeans, letting them pool on the floor.

“Spread your legs,” he grumbles, “I want to taste you.”

You do as you’re told, shaking your jeans off your ankles and spreading your legs. Joel falls to his knees like a man starved. You note his devilish smile when you do as you’re told. 

“I thought I was repaying you,” You choke out as his hands roam over your flesh. He chuckles darkly before pressing a kiss to your right inner thigh. 

“Lettin’ me get between these legs with my tongue is repaying me,” He clicks as pulls at your panties. He slides them to the side, getting a great look at how wet you are already. Your knees feel like they may give out any second just from the anticipation, so when his mouth finds your entrance, you rest your elbows on the freshly wiped down bar. 

Joel exploring you in this way was nothing new, but every time he went down on you, it was thrilling. He was simply so fuckin’ good at it. You never had a man take his time eating you out, desperately wanting you to cum straight on his tongue. 

The vibrations from his groaning sends shockwaves down your legs, causing them to shake. Joel’s hands are the only thing keeping you stable because even your elbows are slipping from the bar top. The suckling noises coming from him are obscene, especially because you’re standing over the bar at your work. You cannot help but try to balance yourself so you can grind yourself down onto his eager tongue. Before you can really get started doing that, he pulls away, his wet lips glistening under the overhead lights. 

He sticks his pointer, middle, and ring finger into his mouth, slathering them in his own saliva. You watch him carefully as he brings them up to your slit, adding to the slick that’s already there. 

“I want you to cum all over my fingers before I bend you over this bar,” He practically moans. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

You can barely speak as his fingers slowly slip in and out of you, “Y-yes.”

“Yes what?” He adds another finger, curling them as he pumps in and out. Your head is spinning, watching his other hand spread over your lower stomach to hold you against the bar. You know what he wants, but you can hardly get the word ‘yes’ out, let alone the name he loves you calling him. You try to breathe in and center yourself, but the fire in your tummy burns bright. 

“Y-yes, Sir. Please m-make me cum.”

He latches his lips around your clit as he speeds the strokes of his three digits. You grab onto his dark curls to hold him there to ensure that he doesn’t stop putting all the pressure right there. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you cannot help but scream out in pleasure. 

He grabs your hips, not caring about your recovery. His dick is rock hard in his blue jeans and it makes you giggle in satisfaction. Joel has fucked you in so many different ways, but you do not remember a time he fucked you over counter.

Your upper body is laying flat against the wooden bar, your hands gripping onto the other side to steady yourself. You hear his zipper go down and then his hands are back on you. Your panties are stretched to hell already, so he practically tears the fabric off your lower body without any resistance. You chuckle at how vehement he is. He spreads your ass cheeks as he slips his cock between your closed thighs. 

“Gonna need you to spread some more for me, sweet girl,” He mutters, smacking one of your cheeks lightly, “God, you’re so perfect.”

Your cheeks burn, “Yes, Sir.”

You do as you’re told, spreading your legs for him. When you do that, his dick prods at your clit, before easing into your entrance. You and Joel fuck raw, so when he opens you up, you feel every vein and ridge against your walls. He’s thick and it always takes you a minute to adjust to the feeling. 

“So fuckin’ tight.”

He retracts back and inches forward again, letting you take in every inch of him. You grab onto the edge of the bar harder, your grip growing tighter with the action. He rests his grip on your hips, using them as leverage as he sets a steady pace. The moment his pace picks up, it’s like the motion pushes all the air from your lungs and you huff out louder. It only encourages him, but instead of keeping you in that position, he grabs onto your shoulders and lifts you up. You are lifted up to his chest, flush with his clothed upper body. He reaches around your arms and grabs onto your breasts through your thin v-neck. 

“J-Joel,” you nudge him with your free hands, “Let me take it o-off.”

He slows his thrusts and lets you pull your shirt over your head. Instead of unhooking your bra, Joel takes the liberty to do it himself. The straps drop off your shoulders and you peel the padding off your chest. His hands instantly cradle your breasts, kneading them as he jolts forward to continue fucking you. His thumb and pointer pinch and tug at your pert nipples. 

“Mmm,” He hums, “Only I can fuck you this good, huh?”

You whimper at his actions, “Only you, Joel.”

“That’s right.”

With that, he slips himself out of you, causing you to whine at the empty feeling. He moves you around like a rag doll, turning you around to face him. 

Joel’s eyes are dilated and his hands are moving quickly to lift you off the ground and press your lower back into the bar. You place your hands on his shoulders, knowing exactly what position he wants you in. 

He picks you up so seamlessly. It’s like when he’s horny or angry, he’s super strong and practically indestructible. He will probably complain how his back hurts later. 

Your knees fold over his forearms, perfectly spread open for his taking. 

You are so wet that he slips right into you. He uses the bar a bit for leverage as he fucks up into you, the angle completely sending you into a spiral. His eyes are perfectly trained on your chest, watching your tits jiggle as he drills into you. 

“Most perfect thing I ever did see,” He remarks between strokes. Your nails are digging into his shoulder, right above a scar he got a couple years ago when he was out on patrol with your dad. You remember it was the first time you saw Joel shirtless. He was sitting next to your Dad in the infirmary, getting stitched up from getting caught on a sharp tree limb. You remember thinking how tan and beautiful he was back then. 

Now you’re gripping onto his shoulders years later, his dick ramming into you and hitting you in all the right places. 

Life is so mysterious and wonderful. 

He bites his lip, putting all his focus into making you cum before he does himself. He’s a giver and for that, you’re extremely grateful. No man has ever put in as much effort. Before Joel, you did not know you could cum more than once in a single session. A couple months ago, he could not help his insatiable taste for you and made you cum 6 times. 

His thrusts begin to falter when he feels you clenching around him, the fiery thrill building in your stomach. Your legs feel like jello, but as soon as the orgasm hits you, they stiffen in his grip. 

“F-fuck Joel,” You whimper, stuttering at how good your body feels as your come down unravels. This orgasm is way more powerful, making you practically vibrate in Joel’s arms. 

He fucks you through the feeling, his finish quickly approaching. When he’s finally finding his own release, he slips out of you before he can cum inside you. You two had an agreement that he could only cum inside you if you explicitly say he can. Since you didn't even think about it, you watch as his seed spills all over your pelvic bone.

When you two catch your breaths, he gently places you down on the ground. He steadies your wobbly legs by holding onto your naked waist. 

You realize you are smiling like an idiot, completely blissed out on how good Joel made you feel. You find your footing, picking up your pants nearby. You don’t even bother with the material that used to be your underwear. 

You hear Joel behind you fixing himself up, zipping his dick back into his jeans. You pull on your pants, leaving them unbuttoned. You grab the material on the ground and ball them up. You prance over to Joel, his eyes raking you up and down. 

“You can keep this,” You joke, pulling at one of his front pockets. You tuck the panties into his pants, smiling widely. 

“‘M just gonna add them to the collection,” He replies, gripping onto the point of your chin. 

When he tilts your eyes up to meet his, your heart flutters at the action. He’s so beautiful with his fine lines and wildly untamed peppered curls. His eyebrows are furrowed as he contemplates your expression. 

You finally say it. Those three words that you had been meaning to say for months. The words that you had never said to another man ever. There was a distinct moment about 2 months ago, after you had dinner with him and Ellie, where you almost said it while helping him with the dishes. It was that steadying of your heart, a moment you felt most at peace with someone. He made you comfortable. He made you feel safe. 

“I love you, Joel.”

He drops your chin, his eyes soften at the statement. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Your anxiety starts to creep up your throat. Maybe you should not have said that. Fuck. 

“I-I…”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” He says in almost a whisper before he takes your right hand, rubbing the top of it with his thumb. “‘M sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”

Your body relaxes, reassured by his answer. You did not have any doubts about your feelings for Joel, but your mind could not help but over analyze every little thing he ever said to you, forcing you to assume he may not feel the same way. 

He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a long kiss onto your knuckles. 

“Let’s get you home, sweet girl. I gotta get up for patrol tomorrow.”

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations

Last month I did an in-depth re-watch of rottmnt s1 to take some notes on writing the characters of rise from their perspective and such. Figured I'd share what I found, but I'm also posting this bc my docs have a nasty habit of blipping out of existence.

We'll start with Raph bc he's the oldest of course, but I'll post the others sep. bc this is gonna get long!!

Raph Character Notes

Language Habits:

Catchphrases: "like a boss", "smash"

Verbalizes his attacks such as "smash", "knuckle sandwich", "power smash jitsu", "tonfa power jitsu", "mystic punch jitsu"

Uses older song titles for surprised exclamations or in place of cursing, most notably "jumping jack flash!"

Uses aave/bae, For example: 'em instead of them, 'ey instead of they, 'cause instead of because, forgoes the g in ing words (going becomes goin')

Uses less and less grammar the more he's stressed, and his voice will come to a higher pitch

Will speak in a softer tone to his little brothers if he's concerned about hurting their feelings. Aka babying them

Mixes up both metaphors and idioms. Would be one to say how the turn tables unironically

Does say "hero" a lot, lost count, especially in phrases like "hero town"

Refers to his brothers as "boys" or "fellas"

Refers to Splinter as "pop(s)" most often

Refers to strangers he's directly talking to as "bubs" or "hoss"

Personality:

Protective of his family

Plays up the hero act/has a strong sense of duty and justice

Impatient, rushes in without a plan (pre-movie), doesn't finish books until the end, falls asleep during "boring movies"

Oblivious, doesn't read into things beyond surface level. Struggles with empathy when something is beyond his understanding, but is still very emotional

Center of responsibility for his brothers, but also has a reckless sense of fun. As long as it's him doing the stupid unsafe thing it's fine

Carries the weight, in a literal sense he piggy backs his brothers, but will also use his body as a shield from danger. Unfortunately this also means he takes his brothers a little less seriously (Mikey the most common victim), and will try and either protect them from everything or as an oldest sibling everything has go "his way"

Doesn't do well in solitude. Needs to be looking after people to feel functional, and needs to be around people to feel safe

Clumsy, "takes horrible pictures", isn't very good at hiding, he's a big guy so it probably took a lot of time to find balance

A sweet guy who still won't shy from making fun of his family. Leo tends to be the brunt of his teasing since he is the most annoying, but he will also poke Donnie on his dramatics

Likes cute things!!! Has a teddy bear collection and loves animals. It's so cool how this isn't played off as a joke and he's still just as masculine for liking pink and cutesy stuff

Likes fighting!!! Gets a lot of energy out defeating bad guys (where he directs his anger towards), the one who is shown to train the most, and also weight lifts in his spare time

Doesn't do well under pressure, here the anger comes out the most. He gets stressed when it's all on him, especially since he tends to mess up the most in these moments

Miscellaneous:

Second to unlock mystic powers

Nicknames/codenames: "raph-a-doodle" by leo, "red rover" by april, "red king" by donnie

Teddy bear names: Doctor Huggenstein, Captain Snuggles, Cheech

Stinks: fear stink, amazement stink, sneaking up on people stink, victory stink

Seems to be less afraid of rabbits and more afraid of puppets

Went on his first solo mission at 13

Cannot lift a bus, at age 15

Thought about discussing fighting style, but I'm not as familiar with that concept and I've seen a couple posts dissecting such topic. So we'll end here for now. Hope this was helpful!!! I'll post the rest of the boys later and link here

Leo is up!!

Donnie is up!!

Mikey is up!!

Splinter is up!!

April is up!!

Cassandra is up!!

[scorpioluvvr]

6 TIPS FOR BEING YOUR BEST SELF IN 2024

So you want to become your baddest, most successful, most powerful self yet next year? Here’s how:

1. Make a list of what isn’t working for you right now.

Write down everything that you don’t like about yourself currently. Don’t like your laziness? Write it down. Don’t like your attitude? Write it down. This can be anything ranging from your personality to how you look. Be honest with yourself about what you don’t like!

1. Make a list of how you can change.

Sounds cliche but it’s extremely effective to become the person you need to be. Take the things that you write down in #1 & find realistic and effective ways to change the things you don’t like. This will allow you to take initiative to change. Get serious about yourself and what you need to do to improve.

3. Change your style.

Some of y’all have been dressing the same since high school and we’re not about to keep doing it. Start making Pinterest boards of what you truly want your style to be. Make sure that your style is something that YOU feel comfortable in and something that you feel is appropriate for you. Start looking on clothing sites that fit your new style vibe to have a feel of the amount of $ it will take to change your style.

4. Cut off people who aren’t serving you.

I know we say this every year, but let’s get fr about it. This is something I’m going to definitely be doing, and I feel like it gives you a clean slate to change the people around you that don’t fit the new version of you. It would be best to be around people with the same goals & mindset as you, because being around the opposite can COMPLETELY derail you in becoming who you need to be. Imagine who you hope to be at the end of 2024, now evaluate your circle and see if your best self would hang around them.

5. Start your fitness journey.

Summer bodies are built in the winter. So start going to the gym NOW. Whatever your fitness goals are, start doing your research on how to get the best results for your body type. If you want to start Pilates, lifting, or even running, now is the time you should start.

6. Start creating your standards for relationships.

I would recommend watching Sheraseven, because she is amazing at helping women realize what they deserve from men. Write down your list of non negotiables that you will not compromise on in a relationship, to ensure that you receive exactly what you want from men. Don’t allow yourself to be treated any less than you deserve. Imagine how your ideal self gets treated & make note of it. (I can make a post about this specifically if y’all want)

[wheresarizona]

but I would die for you in secret

Part 2

summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is less complicated now that he’s going to tell Ellie that you’ve been secretly seeing each other for months. You thought their discussion would go well, but when you get home from work to a note on your front door from Joel that reads, ‘Come over, we need to talk,’ it has you immediately thinking the worst—up until he answers his door in nothing but a towel and drags you inside to fuck your brains out for the first time in his bed.

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, explicit smut, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), Possessive Joel Miller, Dominant Joel Miller, Joel Miller has a big dick, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating (he tells you to choke on it (in a good way)), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, breeding kink, rough sex, dirty talk (so much), spit mention, biting, spanking, whatever the kink is where you’re turned on by good dads, Joel in just a towel, pregnancy discussion, fluff, the last 3k words in Ellie’s pov (truly delightful), Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, Joel giving Ellie shit, Ellie and Joel having the best discussions, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)

word count: 11.1k+

a/n: Yes, I did make my own gif because I was too lazy to try and hunt for it. I really, really wanted to write about what happened after the last chapter, and here we are. I think this will be the last one. Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

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The sun hadn’t risen when Joel Miller left your bed this morning.

That's how it usually was, him coming and going in the dark so no one sees him leave his house to come to yours across the street—the nights you spend together are bathed in secrecy, the two of you inhabiting your own little world, confined to the space of your home.

Why the sneaking around?

He didn’t want his daughter, Ellie, to know of his relationship with you. Over the many months you’ve been together, he’s let you in on much of what she had gone through before they got to Jackson. You understood that he’s all she has, and he’s worried that if he started openly dating, she’d think she isn’t as important to him as before or feel like Joel’s abandoning her. That’s the main reason he didn't want her to know, but with how often he brings up you being so much younger than him, and all the times he’s said you should be with someone your own age, you felt that he’s also ashamed of how old you are.

At least, that’s what you thought until the night before when he revealed his feelings for you and told you he wasn’t ashamed of you or the large gap in your ages.

When this all began, Joel was clear that all he could give you was his body—he was emotionally unavailable because he was too focused on taking care of Ellie.

Amazing sex with no strings attached? You were okay with that.

Except it wasn’t something casual, and there were strings attached.

You don’t just occasionally hook up with Joel; no, he’s at your place most nights and some days without his daughter knowing. You also can’t go out with anyone else, not that you want to—he doesn’t share or like when other men are interested in you. You aren’t any better, hating when women flirt with him, especially his next-door neighbor Sandra, who refuses to acknowledge he doesn’t want her.

Why does she, specifically, annoy you so much?

Not only does she shamelessly flirt with Joel any chance she gets, but she also touches him, her hand always ending up on his arm that he shrugs off, making him growl at her not to touch him. Does she listen? No, she still does it every time she runs into him, and it pisses you off that she doesn’t respect his boundaries. Plus, there was an incident a couple of months after he moved to Jackson where she got him over to her house under the false pretense of needing something fixed and then basically jumped him—she kissed him without his permission and came onto him, which he was not into and had him leaving immediately. He can’t stand her, and he’s been very firm with her that he’s not interested. If what she does to Joel isn’t bad enough, she creeps the fuck out of Ellie, and that pisses you off even more. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve saved the kid from talking to her; the look on Ellie’s face that screams she wants to be anywhere other than with Sandra makes your hackles rise, and a need comes over you to get the girl out of there as quickly as possible.

Has anything ever happened between Joel and Sandra to make her delusional enough to think if she keeps harassing him and his daughter, he’ll eventually want to be with her?

From what you understand, Tommy and Maria tried to set them up when he first arrived, but he declined; it truly was a case of right place, wrong time. He was polite when he rejected her and explained that his daughter needed him and that he had zero interest in starting a relationship with someone. Back then, he was completely occupied with taking care of Ellie, and dating was out of the question; it didn’t even cross his mind or was something he wanted. He was content with his fresh start in Jackson, alone with his kid to help her heal.

Why did Joel accept your advances the first time you met?

Right place, right time.

Once you moved to town, the father and daughter were settled to the point that Ellie was doing great in adjusting to life in Wyoming, and Joel felt he could finally do something for himself; you were tempting enough that he wanted to be selfish. He liked that you didn’t reek of desperation or made him feel pressured, neither of you doing anything that made the other uncomfortable. Obviously, there was a mutual attraction between you two, and the flirting went both ways; his head was already leaning toward yours when you went in for the first kiss, which he happily reciprocated.

What it came down to was he trusted you, and you were willing to do things on his terms.

And, of course, as it usually happens, feelings did develop—as his kid got better and more comfortable with living in Jackson, Joel opened up to you little by little, offering a tiny bit more of himself with each passing day and your relationship became confusing; it wasn’t only sex anymore; hasn’t been just that for a while, and it took you both over eight months to admit you’re in love, and for Joel to decide it’s time to tell Ellie, so he could actually be with you out in the open.

So, he left your bed before the sun had risen in order to be home before she woke up—that way, she wouldn’t be confused by his absence. He also planned on talking to her about what was going on between you two.

There’s this ritual he does before he leaves each morning that you’ve chalked up to him being from a different time and big on manners; your two previous sexual partners were closer to your age and nowhere near as courteous as him.

The slightest sounds will wake you, a side effect of surviving, and the moment the mattress springs squeak as he gets up, hours before you need to, your consciousness is coming back to you to assess if there’s any danger. Your ears perk at the rustle of him dressing in the dark, and you’ve learned not to spook when the blankets are pulled up to cover your bare body that gets tucked in. The kiss pressed to your hair always makes you smile at the sweetness, and you expect the whispered goodbye he says before he goes.

This morning, you didn’t expect the added ‘Love you’ at the end, which had your eyes opening and hand shooting out from under the covers to grab his, tugging him toward you. He knew what you wanted, chuckling as he leaned down to kiss your lips. You told him you loved him, too, when he straightened and started to leave, and he stopped at the doorway to get one last look at you under the dim light filtering through the gaps in your curtains from the street lamp outside, then headed home.

It’s safe to say your morning started off pretty great, and even though you didn’t see Joel after he left, the rest of your day wasn’t half bad either; it took a little turn when you got back to your house after working your job teaching at the school to a note from him on your door that read:

Come over

We need to talk

A romantic partner saying you needed to talk was never good, and worry knotted up in your belly like a ball, thinking things with Ellie didn’t go well when he told her about your relationship, and now he’s going to break up with you.

The first time you stopped by his place, you’d made the mistake of knocking; he was home alone and hadn’t known you were at the door until you rang the doorbell. It was adorable how he’d been a little embarrassed he didn’t hear you and pointed at his right ear to explain he had hearing loss. From then on, you always made sure to ring the doorbell, and you did so again, standing on his porch in the freezing cold with your winter coat on and worrying your lip between your teeth.

There’s the faint sound of him yelling from inside, “One minute!” thinking he’s upstairs, which is confirmed when you hear his heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. The deadbolt clicks as it’s unlocked, and the door is cracked open; Joel’s face appears, the rest of his body hidden.

He looks relieved to see you, and that’s a good sign. “Thank Christ, it’s you,” he says, opening the door some more to take your hand pulling you inside. The front door gets slammed shut, and your back is suddenly pressed against it, a surprised sound leaving your throat when his mouth crashes into yours, kissing you hard.

This is an even better sign that everything is okay.

He’s never kissed you in his house before.

One of his big palms cradles your face, the other locking the deadbolt beside you before it glides up your jacket-covered front to squeeze your breast. Your lips part to allow his tongue to delve inside and tangle with your own, looping your arms around his neck automatically. This kiss has your brain fritzing out, unable to think about anything except how he’s claimed you with his lips and tongue so fiercely and possessively while his large body cages you in. It’s embarrassing how long it takes a coherent thought to come through, and when it does, you’re lightly pushing at his chest, the surprise of bare skin under your hand causing you to break your mouth away to look at his body immediately.

A disappointed noise comes from him, and your eyes go wide at what you see.

“You’re naked,” you whisper.

His hand lightly holds your throat as he starts kissing along your jaw. “I’m not naked—I’m wearin’ a towel.”

That’s true. The faded blue towel is wrapped tightly around his waist, stopping just before it reaches his knees. His upper body is entirely bare, with pink and silvery scars etched all over his skin. No matter how many times you see him naked, you’re always so surprised by his broadness—it’s not a trick of his clothing or lighting that makes him appear big; he is that big.

“Still pretty naked.” You remember the thought you had. “Is Ellie home?”

“No,” he says into your skin. “She’s with Cat—” Her best friend. “—and they’re meetin’ us for dinner later.” His mouth is at your ear, feeling his hot breath, and shivering when he rasps into it, “Now, stop worryin’ about her, and let me take you up to my room so I can finally fuck you in my bed—I’ve been dyin’ to break it in with you.”

The proposition makes your cunt clench, and you’re interested in seeing his bedroom—he’s never invited you upstairs.

“Is this why you really wanted me to come over, to christen your bed?”

He pulls back to meet your gaze. “Didn’t want to scandalize the neighbors by puttin’ it in writin’, but yes.” His eyes darken as he slowly unzips your coat. “You comin’ up with me?” His voice deepens, nudging his nose against yours. “Since you’re my guest, we’ll do whatever you want.”

Joel always considers what you want, but he also seems instinctively aware of what you need—that’s the great thing about being with someone so much older and experienced; he knows how to play your body and make you feel so good that you’re happy to go along for the incredible ride.

With him saying you’ll do whatever you want, he’s letting you call the shots.

Your eyebrow raises. “Anything?”

“Within reason.” He kisses your chin, your skin tingling under his lips.

“Is there anything we did last night that’s not within reason…?”

The previous night, you weren’t expecting to see Joel because he’d been taking care of a sick Ellie for the prior few days. When he arrived at your place unannounced, he found you trying to make yourself come on your fingers and ordered you to finish as he jerked off, watching you. Then he fucked your brains out until your limbs were jelly and surprised you by asking if he could come inside you—something he avoided in the past and had only accidentally happened a handful of times.

His head moves to look you in the eyes.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s all within reason.”

That sentence excites you. “Let’s go,” you say quickly. He chuckles and helps you remove your jacket, hanging it on the nearby coat rack, which only has a few other items.

He grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs, the third step from the top creaking loudly under each of your weights.

You’re not entirely sure what you’re expecting his bedroom to be like, but when you walk into it, you take a moment glancing around at everything; there’s his queen-sized bed that’s neatly made, he’s got a record player over in the corner with a stack of vinyl records next to it, a couple of landscape paintings of pastures decorate his walls, there’s a walk-in closet not even close to full of clothes, his own private bathroom, and on top of his dresser is a few framed photos—one of Ellie playing guitar, beside that, Joel and her standing next to each other laughing. The third has you walking over to pick it up.

“Joel?”

He’s shut the door, and his bare feet pad across the floor, moving toward you.

“Yeah?”

“If you didn’t want Ellie to know about us, why do you have a picture of me and her in your room?”

It was taken at the town party celebrating the harvest and shows Ellie sitting beside you at a table, leaning into you with her head against your shoulder as you both smile at the camera.

“She doesn’t come in here.”

He’s next to you, and you look over at him.

“But what if she had?”

“Wouldn’t have mattered.” He shrugs and takes the photo from you, setting it back down in its spot.

You turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, and his eyes lock onto your bosom.

“What do you mean it wouldn’t have mattered?”

It takes him too long to answer, and you realize he’s distracted, so you wave your hand in front of his face. “Focus, Joel.” His gaze goes to yours.

“What?”

“What do you mean it wouldn’t have mattered if Ellie saw the picture?”

“I mean, it wouldn’t have mattered; it wouldn’t have revealed anythin’ she didn’t already know.”

“How long?”

His face pinches in confusion. “Huh?”

“How long has she known about us?”

His hands sit on his hips, and his weight goes to one side, a crease appearing between his eyebrows.

“I don’t want you gettin’ mad at me when I tell you ‘cause I had no idea she was aware; if I’d known, it would’ve been made clear long ago to everyone you’re mine. Understood?”

It’s said with such conviction it leaves zero doubt that it’s the truth, and it feels like your skin is vibrating at the fact he’s really going to make sure all of Jackson knows that you’re together now.

You smile. “God, that’s hot—yes, I understand.”

“Good—she clocked us pretty much from the beginnin’.”

“Of course she did,” you reply. “I had a feeling she’s known for a while, but since the beginning? I am both impressed and very annoyed. Why didn’t she tell you she knew?”

He grimaces. “She thought it was a subject we avoided...” He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. “I guess I’m cagey when Tess comes up, mostly ‘cause I don’t even know what that relationship was, and since I never said anythin’ about you, she figured we don’t talk about our romantic partners.”

Your eyes round. “Our? Is Ellie dating someone?”

His hand lowers, and he smiles, nodding. “She said I could tell you—Ellie’s way better at the secret girlfriend stuff than I am.”

“Cat?”

His eyebrows dip down. “How’d you know?”

“Ellie looks at Cat the same way you look at me.”

A long sigh leaves him. “So, it’s true.” He sounds defeated, his shoulders slumping.

“What’s true?”

“When she was pointin’ out how obvious we’ve been, she gave me shit for starin’ at you with, she called ‘em ‘googly eyes,’ whatever the fuck that means.”

You snort and step into his space, wrapping your arms around his neck, Joel’s hands holding your hips.

“It’s this way you look at me, and I couldn’t quite figure out what it was until you told me you loved me last night, and I realized it’s love; devotion—your eyes show the truth of what you’re feeling, and good news, babe.”

“What’s that?”

“You can give her shit for having googly eyes like her father.”

That seems to cheer him up, and honestly, it’s cute.

“She’s gonna hate knowin’ that—I can’t wait to tell her.”

You giggle. “So, Ellie’s really okay with us?”

“She is.” He nods.

“Good—this might sound weird.” You can’t look at him as you say this and focus on a patch of freckles on his shoulder, heat creeping up your neck. “But, um, you being a great dad and loving your kids so much—” He’s told you about Sarah. “—really does it for me. There’s something about it that’s incredibly attractive.”

“Yeah?” He ducks his head to press his lips over your pulse point, peppering kisses up your neck; his hand slides down between your legs where your warmth is felt through your jeans, rubbing over your sex. It makes you gulp, excitement sparking in your tummy.

“Yes.”

His mouth reaches your ear, tugging the lobe lightly between his teeth. His warm breath fans against your skin when he hovers his lips to whisper, “I think I know why.“

Your heartbeat thuds in your chest and pulses in your core to the same beat, feeling your need for him drip into your panties.

“W-why?”

He speaks in a huskier tone, “You know that havin’ my babies means they’d get a good father, and you have nothin’ to worry about when I fill your perfect little pussy with my come.”

Pleasure cuts through you sharp as a knife, and you moan.

“Yeah, I know you like it—is that what you want tonight, sweetheart? Want me to stuff you full?”

What he’s saying is making your skin so hot that your clothes are stifling, and you want him more than anything; you need him to ease the ache in your center.

“God, yes.”

“Then I’ll give it to you.”

You’re wondering what’s changed that suddenly has him unbothered about the possibility of getting you pregnant when he actively tried to prevent it previously—something you’ll have to inquire about later because it seems Joel’s had enough talking as his lips capture yours in a searing kiss, and he pulls your body flush against his.

It’s consuming and exhilarating.

No one has ever made you feel the way he does—the all-encompassing fiery passion that has arousal burning like an inferno in your belly, needing him so badly you think you might die if you don’t feel him inside you.

Wouldn’t that be a way to go? Dying of desperation from not getting Joel Miller’s dick—sounds kind of nice compared to the alternatives in today’s world.

You’ve also never been with someone his age.

There was this girl a little older than you that you met on your travels—you don’t find very many friendly people out in the wilds, and she joined you for maybe a week before she headed west toward Seattle. She told you one evening, as you sat by a fire under the stars together, that hands down, the best sex she ever had was with an older guy who was in his early thirties when the outbreak happened. She went on about how generous he was in actually making her come and that he knew exactly what to do; the entire experience was apparently life-changing. She swore she’d never get with anyone younger again, and you were intrigued.

When you asked her if it was weird fucking a guy old enough to be her father, she gave you a funny look, and you’ll never forget what she said:

“Ain’t nothing weird about two consenting adults having a good time.”

She had a point.

When Joel showed up at your door looking so incredibly handsome soon after you moved to Jackson, the conversation with that girl came to mind, and you decided to see if she was right, and dear god, this man in his late fifties has ruined you for anyone else—he was the first person to go down on you, he was the first person other than yourself to get you off, he was the first person to come inside you; the last one was an accident and it shocked you how much the risk turned you on.

You can’t imagine being with anyone else after him.

The kissing heats up, practically all tongues at this point, Joel’s straining cock beneath the towel pressing against you, and it’s always incredibly sexy the way he knows just what you need without you having to say a word—in less than a minute, he's stripped you of all your clothes, and has you on your back in the middle of his mattress, Joel on his knees between your spread legs, and leaning down, with your pebbled nipple sucked between his lips.

He has both of your breasts in his hands while he laves at one and then the other, the nibble of his teeth on the sensitive buds causing your pussy to weep for him, your fingers clutched in his damp, grey hair.

"Oh my god, Joel," you moan.

He loves worshipping your tits, and if you let him, he’ll play with them for hours; the problem is today, you’re on a time crunch since you have dinner plans, and you want a chance to make him feel good, too.

Your hands tug on his messy waves to get his attention, saying, "Let me suck your dick."

His head lifts, and you're met with dark eyes, his lips shiny with spit. The cool air hitting your wet skin causes goosebumps to rise.

"You want my dick in your mouth?" he asks.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay.” He grunts as he pushes himself up to kneel. He’s still wearing the towel, which is tenting in the front.

You eagerly sit up and get on your knees, shuffling toward him, and when you’re close enough, he can’t seem to help himself, his palms holding your face as he passionately kisses you. Your hands snake between your bodies to unwrap the towel around his waist, tossing it to the side without a care, and you wrap your fingers around his length that’s hard as steel and velvety smooth, feeling hot to the touch.

He nips at your bottom lip when he ends the kiss, and without another word, you’re moving back enough to get on all fours, holding your weight on one arm while your other hand grips around the base of him, and then he’s in your mouth—his girth has you opening as wide as you can, your lips stretching to their limit. He’s heavy on your tongue, taking more and more of him as you bob your head.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans. “Fuckin’ love that mouth of yours.”

Saliva is dribbling down his shaft, lubricating every stroke of your palm over what can’t fit in your mouth, his large hand guiding your head up and down his dick.

“Spit on it,” he commands. You hover your lips over him, gathering saliva on your tongue, and looking up at him through your lashes as you let it drip onto the tip of him—his pupils are blown so wide, there’s hardly any brown remaining, a gorgeous pink flush crawling up his chest and neck to paint his stubbled cheeks.

He’s watching you, his chest rumbling when you take him back into your mouth and fondle his sack in your palm.

When you first met, you were pretty inexperienced when it came to sex—you’d only slept with two men, and it hadn’t been very pleasurable on either occasion. Then Joel came along and showed you how good it could be and let you experiment to figure out what you did and didn’t enjoy. He also walked you through what he liked, which is why you know how he’s going to respond as you suck him off and gently tug on his balls. “Fuucckk,” he says in a drawn-out moan, and it has electricity dancing down your spine that you’re making him feel so good.

You go back to jerking him, your hand moving easily, twisting on the upstroke along his spit-slick cock, while bobbing your head, feeling him slide along the broad flat of your tongue to hit the back of your throat—you’re making appreciative noises that vibrate against his skin, loving him in your mouth, and how vocal he is in his enjoyment, Joel groaning, his breaths getting heavier, and slowly thrusting his hips.

You come off of him, licking a stripe from root to tip, tracing a bulging vein with your tongue, and circling the sensitive edges of the head. His cock throbs in your hand as you hold it out of the way to go lower and suck one of his balls into your mouth, massaging it with your tongue before giving the second the same treatment.

His voice is a deep baritone, the words thick with desire. “You’re so fuckin’ good to me.”

Licking back up, you swirl around the tip and sink down again, hollowing your cheeks.

His hand easily covers yours low on his shaft to keep it and himself still, his other palm going to the back of your head. “Choke on it, baby—take it down that pretty throat.”

This time when he fills your mouth and hits the back of your throat, you relax, swallowing around him, taking as much of him into the tight space as you can, and there’s enough of him that won’t fit for your fingers to wrap around—his other hand clutches your hair as he keeps your head from moving, your eyes watering, drool spilling from the corners of your lips, while his hard cock fills your throat. You’re doing the best you can to breathe through your nose.

He’s panting. “That’s fuckin’ it—so fuckin’ beautiful with my dick down your throat.” His fingers go around your neck to feel it bulge. “You love havin' my cock fillin' you, don’t you? Your pussy, your throat, you're hungry for it and can't get enough 'cause no one can make you feel as good as I do, isn’t that right?” You moan in agreement, his shaft pulsing on the flat of your tongue. “God, you make the prettiest noises for me.”

You swallow around him, and his punched-out groan has your cunt clenching hard on nothing, a layer of slick coating your inner thighs.

“Stop,” he orders, pulling you off of him and causing you to sputter. “I’m not comin’ in your mouth.”

The statement has a sharp spike of arousal erupting low in your stomach because you know this means he’s going to finish inside you, and it has you wanting him with every fiber of your being.

He gets you up on your knees, holding your chin as he smashes his lips to yours, his tongue slipping inside where he sucks on your own. Your heart is hammering in your chest, moaning as the fingers of his free hand pinch and roll your stiff nipple, and you’re trying to convince your lungs that you’ll be okay without oxygen for another minute when his mouth suddenly leaves yours. Your chin is still cradled in his palm, Joel’s breaths coming out hard as he shoves his face against the side of yours and lightly bites the apple of your cheek before his lips are at your ear.

The sides of your faces are touching, his stubble prickling against your skin. “Now what?” he asks. Anticipation has you practically vibrating. “You got to suck my dick, what do you want now? You’re in charge—my fingers? Want me to eat your pussy? Or my cock without me loosenin’ you up so you’ll feel it tomorrow?” He smacks your ass with his other palm, and you gasp. “Tell me.”

Joel is very well-endowed, especially in terms of girth, and he’s aware of this fact; unless you tell him not to, he always gets you off before he fucks you, so it relaxes your muscles and makes it easier to take him. Right now, you need him inside you too much to have the patience for any more foreplay, so be it if you’re a little uncomfortable tomorrow.

You swallow before you answer. “Dick, please.”

“How do you want it?”

“Your choice.”

“You got it, baby.”

He grabs a handful of your asscheek, then gives it a spank and kisses your cheek, letting go of your chin to slide his fingers through the slick lips of your sex, his face coming into your line of sight.

It’s clear in his darkened eyes how much he wants you.

“You get so fuckin’ wet for me,” he says and presses two thick fingers inside you, your mouth falling open when he starts pumping. The tips press into something magical you can never reach, no matter how many times you try. “This needy pussy can’t get enough of my dick,” he continues. “You want it? Want me to stretch you open? Make you feel it tomorrow and come so deep in your sweet little cunt I’m drippin’ from you for days?”

He has you feeling so hot you think you might combust.

“Yes.”

A quick kiss is pressed to your lips. “Hands and knees,” he orders, slipping his fingers out of you.

His way of helping you get into position is manhandling you until your hands and knees sink into the mattress with him behind you—he fucked you hard face down, ass up the night before, and you’re wondering if he’s going to give you an encore.

His fingers dig into your asscheeks as he spreads them and spits on your pussy, feeling the hot saliva start to drip, and hearing him repeat the action on his digits, that he uses to wet his cock. Joel slides himself through your folds and presses to your entrance, your hips pushing back enough to engulf the tip of him—a palm lands on your ass with a loud smack, the sting causing your head to fall forward between your shoulders with a moan, his other hand firm on your waist to stop your movements.

“Don’t be greedy,” he grumbles, slapping your ass again. “I gotta go slow so I don’t hurt you.”

You whine because you want him inside you already.

“You’re real fuckin’ needy today,” he says and slowly begins pushing in. There’s a slight burn as your tight walls stretch around him to accommodate his size, the ache in your core dissipating with every inch he feeds into your pussy. “Jesus Christ,” his tone is strained. “You’re so much tighter when I don’t make you come first—you’re chokin’ me.” Your fingers are clawing at the bedspread, your heart’s pounding, and sweat is starting to bead on your skin. There’s one word repeating over and over in your head: Big.

He takes his time; the seconds that tick by feel like hours, and once he’s fully sheathed inside you, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in—the familiar fullness satisfies the overwhelming need you had and has something purring in the back of your mind that this is right; it’s perfect how he fills you. He was right; there’s no one else on the entire planet who could satisfy you like he does.

His large palm slides halfway up your spine. “You’re doin’ great for me, baby,” he rasps. “Takin’ me so well. Now, I’m gonna make you feel good.”

And the fact you know he is has your cunt throbbing incessantly around him.

His hands hold your waist, and he does an experimental thrust, your answering moan encouraging him to start moving—he’s slow at first, rocking his hips and letting you feel every ridge and vein on his thick cock as it moves in and out of you.

He’s pressing into heavenly spots you didn’t know existed before him, loving how deep in your depths he reaches. The waves of arousal he’s coaxing from you is soaking his dick and easing his movements.

“God, I love bein’ inside you,” he says and slaps your ass; you clamp down on him, and he groans. “You feel so damn good—fit me like a fuckin’ glove.”

You fuck yourself back on him as you whine, “It’s yours!”

He grits through his teeth, “Yes. It. Is.” Punctuating each word with a hard thrust that knocks the wind from your lungs. “It’s. Mine. You’re mine.”

His rhythm speeds up, a steady slap of his hips against yours that echoes in the room, Joel grunting with each stroke and your moans coming unbidden. Your ass is jiggling from the onslaught, your head is dizzy with pleasure, and heat is growing at the base of your spine, threatening to explode.

This is how you like it, getting fucked senseless.

You squeak in surprise when gun-calloused fingers grip your upper arms at the bend of your elbows and pull you up, making you arch your back, Joel tugging you back each time he thrusts forward, pounding into you hard enough your eyes roll back in your head, and your mouth opens in a silent cry—his rough sounds are slipping through his bared teeth and obscene squelching is coming from where he’s fucking into you at an unforgiving pace.

You’re quivering around him, your entire body shaking, quaking, as he pummels a spot that’s making stars dance behind your eyelids, the muscles in your belly tightening, winding, building you up higher and higher. Your skin is hot and buzzing like every nerve in your body is lit up, a thin layer of sweat coating the entirety of it.

His breathing is ragged, and he grits out the question, “Are you gonna come for me?” He doesn’t slow down. “I can feel you squeezin’ me—I know you’re close.”

His hands have an iron grip on you. Noise finally leaves your lips in stuttered moans, and you’re losing your mind at how fucking good it feels—you’re not going to last much longer.

“Once you go,” he says, “you’re takin’ me with you, and I’m fillin’ you up.”

The reminder has white-hot pleasure scorching in your abdomen, and you’re coming undone, shouting his name as your climax hits and euphoria takes over every molecule in your body.

A choked sound comes from behind you, and you get pulled back flush to him, Joel’s arm locking over your chest with his hand squeezing one of your tits while the other wraps around your throat, his lips pressing to your ear as he raggedly groans “There we fuckin’ go.” His teeth sink into your earlobe as his hips stutter, and he buries himself one last time as far as he can in your depths, whining as he comes—his cock pulses and twitches hard as he releases deep inside you, spurts and spurts of his come filling your inner walls.

There’s a chance you’ve left Earth with how you feel like you’re floating, your brain completely empty of thoughts—you’re not sure you could think if you even tried, let alone move.

You register being laid down on your side and the warm body curling around your back; an arm is over your middle, and your breast is being held in a large palm, feeling so relaxed you think you might fall asleep.

A minute passes.

Five.

Ten.

There’s a loud snore behind you.

“Joel?” It’s embarrassing how it comes out as a croak.

No response—of course, there’s no response, his left ear is pressed to the mattress, and he can barely hear out of the right. You rub your hand along his arm and lightly tap it.

He goes eerily quiet, and you know he’s awoken, but he’s taking a second to assess where he is. Joel sits up a little. “Somethin’ wrong, honey?”

Your torso slightly twists toward him, looking over your shoulder. His eyes are filled with concern when they meet yours.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you reassure him and pat his forearm. “You fell asleep, and we can’t be late meeting Ellie. Otherwise, she’ll come looking for us, and we don’t need to scar the poor girl with her finding out her dad has a very active sex life.”

He snorts, his lips turning up. “She’s not dumb—she knows why I’m at your place every night.”

“She assumes the reason you come over—it’s one thing to assume and another to know for sure, and the second one, when it happens, will probably make her puke and then look at you with disgust for a while.”

He frowns, and you can tell he’s thinking hard. “I never brought women around Sarah…” he says. “I mean, when she was older, she knew, on the incredibly rare occasions I did, that I was goin’ on dates, but that was all. I never had long-term girlfriends.”

That’s something you’re aware of. He’s told you about some of his previous relationships, including Tess. When he was younger, before the world ended, he only had a few girlfriends that didn’t last long and a lot of one-night stands; Sarah’s mom was a fling in his early twenties who disappeared as soon as their daughter was born—she didn’t want to be a mother at such a young age, and only had the baby because she couldn’t stand the guilt of the alternative.

“Oh, so Ellie knowing me and being aware we’re together is new territory for you. How does that make you feel?”

“Real fuckin’ lucky I found someone she likes and who understands that she’s my top priority—the other women I dated couldn’t stand playin’ second fiddle to Sarah even though I was always upfront that she came first before anyone else, the same thing I told you from the get-go about Ellie.”

“And that makes complete sense to me. I know I’m important to you, but it’s different; she’s your child, who you’re responsible for, so she takes precedence. After all the shit she’s been through, it’s great she found a father who loves and cares about her so much.”

He smiles. “And that’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you—you get it and were more than willin’ to be with me in secret to protect her.”

You smirk. “True, it didn’t hurt that the sex is fucking spectacular, too.”

He chuckles, and you find yourself on your back with him half on top of you, happily kissing you.

Your words are muffled against his lips. “I need to ask you something.”

There’s one last kiss, then his pretty face hovers over yours.

“What do you wanna ask that’s more important than me kissin’ you?”

“Something that I need to know after everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours.”

His mouth downturns, and his eyebrows furrow. “Is somethin’ wrong…?”

“No, no, everything’s great,” you tell him and slide your fingers through the curls above his ears. “Has your feelings on children changed? Like, in terms of having more…?”

From the beginning, he was clear that he didn’t want any more kids, and it stressed him out whenever he accidentally finished inside you; you’d think that would put him off sleeping with you again, but he couldn’t stay away, and told you, when asked what would happen if you got pregnant, that you’d figure it out and you didn’t need to worry about him abandoning you—the last part always made you wonder how he’d be involved in your baby’s life with Ellie unaware you were together, and the only thing you could imagine was out in public, Joel taking on the role of your close friend your child calls their uncle, which is pretty depressing to think about.

He’s got an arm beside your head, holding himself up, and his other palm strokes along your cheek, his eyes softening.

“A lot has changed since I met you—you’ve turned my world on its head, sweetheart.” He smiles. “I know I swore I’d never bring another life into this world after losin’ Sarah, but Ellie came along, and I love gettin’ to be a dad again.” The fond look on his face is proof of that. “I really do. She’s a pain in my ass, but I love her, and now that we’re done hidin’ and can finally have a life with everyone knowin’ we’re together, there won’t be any doubt that it’s my baby if you got pregnant.”

Something about that excites you that he wants it to be clear he’s the father of your kid—for a second, you imagine what a child with him would look like, and it makes your heart squeeze at the thought of seeing tiny versions of his eyes and cheeks; would they inherit his elusive dimple?

“I know I’m too fuckin’ old to be takin’ care of a newborn,” he continues, “but I like the idea of havin’ one with you, and I think you’d love it. You’re so good with Ellie and all those little kids you teach. I can tell you want one of your own, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

He smiles.

“Yeah, you do. You’d be a great mom. When I realized I was gonna talk to Ellie the other day and tell her about us, I thought this was somethin’ I could give you; it’s some kind of future, maybe not what you deserve, but it’s what I can offer. And it’s reassurin’ you’re gonna live a helluva lot longer than I will, so I know that if anythin’ happens to me, my children will still have their mother, along with Ellie, who I think would love bein’ a sister. So, to answer your question, yes, my feelings on havin’ more children has changed, but only with you—you’re the only woman I’d want to have a baby with.”

This revelation has you beyond excited—you’d love to have a child with him.

“It’s crazy that yesterday I didn’t know how to define what our relationship was—I knew I loved you, I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and today, we’re officially a couple and talking about having babies. At this rate, I’ll be moving in with you tomorrow.”

“Do you wanna?” he asks, looking completely serious.

Your eyes widen as you stare. “What? I was joking, Joel.”

“And I’m not jokin’, especially about havin’ you here all the time. I don’t want us livin’ separately if we do the baby thing, and you know I’m almost done remodelin’ the garage out back into an apartment for Ellie.”

Joel was pretty upset the night he came over after Ellie asked about having her own living space. It happened two or three months into seeing each other, and he’d been distraught that she was at an age where she wanted more independence and didn’t want to spend as much time with him now that she had friends—something else he never got to experience with Sarah and it really twisted the knife in his gut. There was no way the town council would give a teenager a house, so Joel agreed to convert the garage into an apartment for her.

“Are we moving too fast?” you ask.

When you say out loud everything that’s happened in the last day and your plans for the near future, it sounds like you’re moving too fast, but it doesn’t feel that way.

His eyebrow rose. “Baby, we could die tomorrow. Life these days is too fuckin’ uncertain to be worryin’ about movin’ too fast, and we should do what makes us happy.”

He’s right, and it isn’t a bad idea…

“I’ll only agree to move in if Ellie says it’s okay.”

Your response has Joel chuckling as he kisses you.

“Wait, I have another question,” your words are said into his lips.

His mouth breaks away from yours as he sighs and presses his forehead to yours.

“I love you more than anythin’, but can I please kiss you without interruptions?”

“If you answer this question, we can make out—with tongue.”

His head lifts, and he looks confused. “It’s not makin’ out if there isn’t tongue.”

“Do you wanna make out or not?”

His expression turns grumpy. “Yes, so ask your damn question.”

“What would you have done if you opened the door in just your towel, and it was Sandra instead of me?”

“I would’ve shut the fuckin’ door—now kiss me. I was promised tongue.”

Snow.

So much fucking snow.

Ellie hated winter in Boston, but Jackson? It’s a new kind of hell with how much of the freezing, white bullshit falls from the sky to blanket everything. On the days when she’s assigned the job of shoveling walkways down the main streets of the town, she wishes the bite on her arm had done her in—a dark thought, yes, but that’s how much she despises doing it.

The only positive thing about getting sick was not having to work; the biggest negative was Joel and how he was worrying so much he wouldn’t leave her the fuck alone. Yeah, it’s sweet, or whatever, that he cares so much, but this guy literally watched her sleep—he sat at the window seat in her room every night to keep an eye on her, and if she woke up, which happened a lot from the coughing, he was there at the side of her bed asking if she needed anything, and touching her forehead to check her temperature.

Thank god, his secret girlfriend came by when she did because Ellie was so close to stabbing him if he asked her how she was feeling one more time; her friends kept her sane the next day when they checked in on her, and luckily, by then she was pretty much over her sickness, and Joel had finally started to chill the fuck out.

That night, she thankfully got to sleep alone in her room, and it wasn’t surprising when she heard the third step down the staircase loudly creak—she’d tried everything, and there was no way to step on it without it making noise—a sign Joel was going across the street.

Oh, Ellie figured out something was going on between Joel and their across-the-street neighbor not too long after she moved in.

What tipped Ellie off was one day she was walking home after work and had almost arrived at their house when she saw the two of them chatting at her and Joel’s front door. Nothing fishy about that, right? Wrong. Joel was smiling as he spoke to the woman, and it wasn’t one of his fake, polite smiles he does when he’s trying to make himself look less scary and somewhat approachable; no, this was a genuine smile, with some teeth showing, and a rare sighting of the dimple in his cheek—it makes her gag to even think this, but she’d call the smile, charming.

Yuck.

Who wants to think about the guy that’s basically their dad trying to charm someone?

Disgusting.

If the smile wasn’t suspicious enough, the moment he spotted Ellie, it suddenly disappeared—why wouldn't Joel want her seeing him being so friendly with the new neighbor? Probably because he was hiding something; she’ll admit it also could’ve been so she didn’t tease him about having a crush, but the thing is, she wouldn’t have, which is really fucking surprising with how much shit she gives him.

See, she’s not stupid; she knows Joel’s made taking care of her his life’s purpose since they left Boston and that he loves her as if she were his own kid; not to get mushy, but she loves the grumpy fucker, too, and she wants him to be happy, like she is—he’s the reason her life is so good now, and it was time that he did something that’d make him happy. So, Ellie isn’t going to be a dick about him putting himself out there because she doesn’t want to discourage him.

Once Ellie was onto them, it was so freaking obvious that they were a thing—anytime they ran into the neighbor, Joel actually talked to her, instead of his usual one to two-word responses, he gave everyone else who wasn’t Ellie or Tommy. Joel always watched her if she was nearby and went over to her house the moment she asked him to fix something or help her—Ellie’s pretty sure a lot of the tasks were bullshit, and it was their excuse to see each other. Then there’s the damning evidence of Joel sneaking out almost every night; there was a night she got to a window in time to see him sticking to the shadows as he made his way across the street, and it confirmed everything.

He was pretty hush about his relationship with Tess—they’ve discussed her in general, and Ellie knows they had some kind of relationship; she’s just not sure if they were, you know, dating or in love. So, with Joel keeping quiet about what he’s got going on with their young neighbor, Ellie assumed he was just a private guy when it came to that stuff, and it was something they didn’t talk about, figuring if things got serious enough, he’d bring it up.

And hey, she’s hinted that she knows by inviting his secret girlfriend to eat and do stuff with them; Ellie’s even attempted to get the older woman to admit they’re together, but she wouldn’t break, no matter how hard the teen tried.

Then Ellie accidentally overslept at her girlfriend’s this morning and didn’t make it home before Joel, and now they’re both aware of the other’s love life. She won’t lie; it made her unbelievably happy that he didn’t give a single fuck she was dating a girl—he had more of a reaction to her getting a tattoo than her telling him she had a girlfriend, and she’s glad he didn’t make a big deal about it, not that she thought for a minute he wouldn’t be cool with her being with a lady since he was chill when she told him she didn’t like boys not too long after they got to Jackson; plus, the guy was really good friends with Bill and Frank, after all—he’s told her he’s glad she never got a chance to meet Bill because apparently, they would’ve caused a lot of trouble together and possibly taken over the world, which sounded pretty fucking great to her.

The snow crunches under her boots as she walks down the road on their way to the mess hall, her girlfriend, Cat, beside her, chatting about their days. Since she recovered from being sick yesterday, she had to go back to work today, and thankfully, she was assigned an easy job—animal feeding duty, which is both easy and fun.

“Shit, it’s Sandra!” Ellie hisses, grabbing Cat’s hand, “Hide!” She tugs the other girl behind a giant snow-covered bush. She peeks around it, seeing the bane of her and Joel’s existence walking up the street from the opposite direction, probably heading to the mess hall for dinner, too. The other woman is pretty far away, but Ellie doesn’t want to risk her seeing them.

“Why do we avoid Sandra again?” her girlfriend asks.

Ellie’s head turns her way; Cat’s wearing a purple beanie and an oversized navy blue coat, her dark eyes meeting Ellie’s. “God, where to start,” she says and takes a deep breath. “So, when we first moved here, Tommy and Maria tried to get Joel to go out with Sandra since they thought she was a great match for him—she’s also from Texas, pretty, widowed, and has no kids. Anyways, they tried to set them up, but Joel didn’t want to go out with her or anyone else. He was super polite when he turned her down. I guess Sandra took that as him playing hard to get, and she hasn’t left him alone since.”

“So, you avoid her, too…?”

“Oh, right—she wants to be my mom.”

“What…?”

“Yeah, every time she talks to me alone, she likes to bring up how I could use a mom, or wouldn’t it be great if I had one to take care of me and my dad—” Ellie makes a face. “—it’s always so fucking weird calling Joel that out loud.” He pretty much is her dad and she won’t correct anyone who refers to him as such, but to her, he’s Joel. “I think when she says that creepy stuff, she’s trying to get me to convince Joel to date her, but we both agree she’s nuts. Like, I overheard Joel talking to Tommy once, and apparently, some months after we got here, she came over to our house and asked if he could fix something at hers, and he went because Joel might be a bit of a grumpy dick, he’s still a good guy, and she kissed him and was all over him—you get the picture—and he got the fuck out of there, and isn’t as polite when he tells her to leave him alone now.”

“He’s made it clear he’s not interested, and she still won’t get the hint…? Does she know there are other single men in town…?”

“She only has eyes for Joel. I don’t think she’s used to men rejecting her, so now it’s her goal to get him. I mean, she’s persistent. If she sees me or him together or separately, she always talks to us; it’s awkward, and I have to tell you it’s disturbing watching someone flirt with Joel so hard—she’s not subtle at all. It’s honestly weird, and Joel is completely over it. I just don’t get why so many women in this town are into his old ass.”

Ellie has witnessed many women shoot their shots with Joel and get turned down, which is another thing that gave him and his girlfriend away—they never openly flirted, but there is a lot of friendly touching, which is out of character for Joel. The first time Ellie saw Joel open a door and guide the other woman inside with a hand on her back, she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from yelling, ‘Aha!’

“It makes no sense to me,” she continues. “This dude’s old enough to be my grandpa, he’s only got one good ear, he’s weird looking, and after a few days not showering, his feet smell so fucking bad you’ll want to chop your nose off—I swear the only reason we didn’t run into more infected while traveling is because Joel’s disgusting stench scared them away.”

Cat snorts. “You’ve mentioned how bad he smelled a lot.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t un-smell him, and it fucking haunts me.” She shudders. “Now, back on topic, Sandra creeps Joel and me the fuck out, and I’m positive his secret girlfriend would’ve murdered her by now if she wasn’t a secret.”

“Hopefully, Sandra will back off now that Joel’s relationship is no longer a secret.”

“That’d be so nice, but I’m not getting my hopes up.”

“I know you’ve never said anything, but does it bother you how young his girlfriend is?”

Ellie’s eyebrows furrow. “Why would it bother me?” she asks. “She’s an adult and can do whatever she fucking wants. I mean, I don’t understand why she’d willingly choose to be with such an old, ugly, grumpy man, but that’s her deal, and she’s pretty cool. I’m just glad Joel got with someone I like and get along with.” A horrible thought comes to her. “God, imagine if he had started dating Sandra, and I had to pretend to like her and not be weirded out by her trying to be my mom? Yeah, who gives a fuck that his girlfriend is closer to my age than his, she’s not weird and makes him happy, and that’s all that matters.” Something pops up in her brain, and she smiles. “Oh my god, Cat—” She grabs the other girl’s arm and shakes it in excitement. “—what if they had a kid? I could be a sister!” That’d be amazing. She’s always wanted a sibling. Her hands go still, and her eyebrows pull together; she’s lost feeling in the tip of her nose with how cold it is. “Wait,” she starts, “is Joel too old to have a baby? Like, I mean his stuff—” She gags. “—you know what I’m talking about. Does it go bad with age? He’s really fucking old.” Cat’s trying hard not to laugh, her gloved palm over her mouth, and Ellie shoves a finger at her. “Don’t make fun of me for not knowing! What I learned in school was pretty basic, so I know how babies are made—revolting, by the way—there’s just a lot of shit they didn’t explain in detail, and don’t get me started on the awkward as fuck conversation Joel tried to have with me when I started hanging out with Dina and Jesse.” Jesse was the first boy her age she befriended in Jackson.

“The one where in the middle of him telling you boys will say anything to get into your pants, you shouted that you didn’t like boys?”

“Ugh, yes, and then he asked me if I liked girls, and I wasn’t completely sure, so I answered maybe, and he said—” She lowers her voice to try and mimic his. “‘Well, shit, I don’t know what the sex talk is for my daughter likin’ girls’—” She spoke normally again, “You know what, I’m actually impressed with what he pulled out of his ass.” He ensured she really understood what consent is and walked her through what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like.

“To answer your question, Joel isn’t too old to have a kid.”

Ellie grins. “Wicked.” She looks around the bush to check if the coast is clear. “Looks like she’s gone. Let’s get out of here.”

When they get to the mess hall, the mood is… weird.

There’s a lot of whispering and people sneaking looks in the same direction. It only takes her a second to figure out what’s stealing everyone’s attention, and her nose crinkles at the sight.

“Cat?” She’s still staring, the other girl standing beside her.

“Yeah?”

“Am I seeing things, or is Joel really playing tonsil hockey with his not-so-secret girlfriend at our table?”

“Um, I can’t tell if they’re using tongue, but they’re definitely kissing.”

That’s obvious—the man and woman are sitting next to each other on one side of the table with their coats off, their upper bodies turned toward one another, and faces mashed together, Joel’s massive hand holding the side of her head.

“It’s weird feeling both happy for him and wanting to puke simultaneously.”

“I get it. Wanna see something that will make you feel better?”

She glances at her. “What is it?”

Cat nods her head toward a table. “Look.”

Her attention goes to where she indicated, finding Sandra clearly pissed off and glaring daggers at the couple making out, her hand clutching a fork so tight her knuckles are white.

Ellie is delighted and pulls Cat along to join Joel and his girlfriend.

“Please tell me,” she says, as they get to the table and start removing their gloves and jackets, “that you guys are being disgusting right now for the audience and that this won’t be a regular thing.”

Their mouths detach, Joel’s arm around the woman’s back while resting his other hand on the tabletop. There were trays of food for all four of them at each of their seats Joel must’ve gotten, Ellie noticing it was chili and cornbread night. The man looks at her with a close-lipped smile.

“It won’t be a regular thing—” he replies.

“—thank god,” she interrupts and sits down, Cat joining her.

“—in front of you,” he continues.

“That’s fine by me.”

He grabs his small bowl of dessert and slides it over to her.

“Peach cobbler!” she exclaims. “Fuck yeah!”

Not to be sentimental, but Ellie knows that every night they have dinner, and Joel passes her his dessert so she’ll have two, it’s him saying without words that he loves her—that’s just how they are; they suck at speaking their feelings, so they show how much they care for the other with random things like that.

“Thanks, Joel!” She ignores the chili and slice of cornbread and immediately starts digging into one of the cobblers.

“You’re welcome, Ellie—what took you guys so long? We were expectin’ you to be here before us.”

“We had to hide,” she says around a bite—it tastes so fucking good; peach cobbler is her favorite.

Joel's expression turns to one of concern. “Who the hell were you hidin’ from?”

Their girlfriends had started eating.

She swallows, giving him a look. “Who do you think?” She juts her thumb behind her. “Miss Crazypants over there, who—” She turns in her seat to find Sandra still looking pissed. “—might be Miss Murderpants now.”

“Stop starin’ and pointin’,” Joel hisses, and she faces him again.

Ellie rolls her eyes. “The woman annoys the fuck out of us, and you’re telling me not to be rude to her? A bit hypocritical, seeing as you’re clearly rubbing it in her face that you’re seeing someone.”

His jaw clenches. “That’s different.”

Her eyebrows dip together. “What?”

He adjusts in his chair to lean forward a little and starts whispering, “I want her to see us, so she’ll get the hint and leave us the fuck alone—I also want the whole town buzzin’ about me bein’ in a relationship tomorrow.”

“The first part of that, I get; the second bit, you lost me. It’s not like you to want to be the subject of town gossip.”

He straightens and picks up his spoon. “Don’t worry about it, and eat.”

That’s Joel speak for, ‘I’m done discussing this topic.’

“Okay, you fuckin’ weirdo,” she mumbles and takes another bite.

There’s some talking as they eat between all four of them. Joel seems incredibly interested in Cat’s hobby of tattooing people, which Ellie guesses is because she told him she was getting one. He’s probably just ensuring it’ll be safe and that she won’t have to worry about infections or whatever else could go wrong.

Ellie has completely demolished all the food on her tray and is stuffed, taking a big gulp of her water. She sets the cup down.

“So,” she begins, “how serious is this?” She points between the couple across from her. “Is this a fling? Is she moving in? Are you guys getting married? What can I expect?”

Joel swallows and wipes his mouth with a napkin, which he clutches in his fist as he lays it on the table.

“It’s serious,” he says. “We wanted to talk to you about her movin’ in.”

She figured that would be the case with how much time they spend together at night. Ellie’s not against the idea, but she also does not under any circumstance want to know what they do when they’re alone. She has an idea; she’s not dumb. She just prefers not having any solid evidence.

Ellie pushes her tray forward and crosses her arms on the tabletop.

“Here’s the deal: I’ll be fine with her moving in under one condition.”

He looks curious. “What’s that?”

“Whatever you guys do alone in the bedroom happens when I’m not home; I don’t wanna hear shit, I can’t unhear, and I absolutely do not want to see anything I can’t unsee. It’ll only have to be like that until you finish my apartment.”

He seems to be thinking it over. “Deal.”

“You assholes gonna get married?”

“We haven’t discussed that yet.”

His girlfriend says, “I’m okay with marriage.”

Joel’s head whips her way, and he genuinely looks surprised.

“Really?” he asks.

Ellie snorts because the other woman is looking at him like he’s dumb. “Yeah,” she answers. “What about you?”

“I’m okay with it also.”

“Great.” She smiles.

It’s nice to see Joel so happy and to know he’s found someone. She always worried he’d die alone; sure, he’d have her, but he deserved to be loved by someone and to get good things after all of the shit he’s been through in his long fucking life.

She glances over at Cat, who’s scraping her spoon along the inside of her dessert bowl to get whatever of the cobbler is left. She’s staring at it so intently that Ellie thinks she looks adorable, and it makes her smile.

“Oh, are those the ‘googly eyes’?” she hears Joel ask the woman beside him.

“Yep,” his girlfriend answers.

Cat takes her last bite and asks them while chewing, “What are ‘googly eyes’?”

Joel sounds a little too happy, “It’s how Ellie looks at you.”

Ellie quickly turns toward him. “I don’t have ‘googly eyes’!”

She wants to wipe the smug smile off of his stupid face. “Yes, you do.”

“No, you’re lying!”

He puts a hand over his heart. “God’s honest truth, baby girl, you stare at her with ‘googly eyes.’”

Her cheeks feel hot, and she wants the floor to swallow her whole. “This is so embarrassing.” She doesn’t want to talk about this anymore and remembers something.

Joel’s smiling. “It’s cute.” He starts drinking his water.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m cute, whatever,” she says, swatting away his words with her hand. She focuses on him, leaning over her arms on the table. “You know what would be really cute, now that you’ve got a girlfriend, and I think it’s still possible at your age, you’re pretty fucking old, though, but if it is possible, it’d be really cute if you guys had a baby.” She grins and nods her head.

Joel sputters and starts coughing hard. It takes him a moment to speak, and the look on his face is a mixture of confusion and anger.

“The hell do you mean if it’s possible at my age?!” he rumbles. ”I’m fifty-eight, not dead!”

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[forteafy]

A House, A Home | CL16 & CS55

Summary: A loveless marriage usually comes after years, not before. You've always loved him, his best friend has always loved you.

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: Hard Angst, Cheating, Mentions of Sex, Death.

Note: This piece has two heavy inspirations. The first is @lxclerc's amazing pieces 'Moth to a Flame' and 'Call out my Name.' They are both incredible pieces and I highly suggest you give them a read. The second is from a TikTok Account called 'ForPercival,' they are currently doing a social media AU which I cannot recommend enough.

PART 1: A House, A Home | PART 2: Where Do We Go? | PART 3: 'You Think, You Know'

Charles Leclerc is a husband. 

At least, he was your husband on paper. One year ago, a hidden agreement had been put in place between Scuderia Ferrari and the Leclerc Household; their son, the ‘Il Predestinato,’ of the team, (albeit one whom had had the most terrible season,) could continue to drive for the team, so long as he married the daughter of one of their longest-running investors.

That so happened to be you. 

You had been against the entire idea since the first day. After being introduced to Ferrari’s driver, you had instantly felt the divide between the two of you. You’d reluctantly shaken his hand and since then, had been thrown through a mixture of fake dates, a fake engagement and the fakest wedding that could possibly be imagined. The ceremony hadn’t even ended with a kiss, per tradition. 

It didn’t take long for your walls to crack; living with Charles, seeing him at his highest and lowest points, his most vulnerable behind the four walls of your home had caused your heart to soften. Forget being forced into this marriage, you’d grown to care, to adore the man who’d once burdened you with his presence. You dreamed of the day he would return your affection; how long would it take for you to realise you lived in denial? In your late-night fantasies, lying alone in one of the guest rooms you’d sought refuge in on moving into this ­house, you’d dreamt of lying in his arms, lazy morning breakfast, slow kisses when he would come back to you. To your home.

A home, however, is where you feel safe, warm, protected. You lived in a house with Charles. The man who would barely glance your way and after three months of your marriage, started coming home, smelling of rich perfume and lipstick marks littering his jawline.

The first anniversary of your marriage should have been special, even if he despised you in every known form to man. You’d woken up in your room, slipped on the silk robe which had been lying on the empty bedside and slipped out of the bedroom. In your heart of hearts, you knew there would be no significance of today; no flowers, no card, not even a simple text from your husband to signify the date in question. The only text you had received that morning, was a stern reminder from your father, that you were due to attend the Monza Grand Prix in less than one week. 

A soft sigh emitted itself from your lips; it was a routine you knew all too well. Every few races, the more significant ones; Monaco, Silverstone, Spa-Francorchamps, Monza, you’d play the doting wife; cheering for your husband whilst dressed in soft summer dresses, a forged grin if he managed to battle his way into the points. On those rare days when he would obtain a podium position, he’d greet you on the barriers with a soft kiss. It was all fake; a routine which had been performed so many times. Yet, each time his lips met yours, you could dream he meant something behind the affection. 

The train of thought had played through your mind for so long that you were unaware of the tears pooling on your lower lash line. So, what if Charles wasn’t at home for your anniversary? It was your thought for feeling any kind of emotion towards him in the first place. It was a business deal, after all. Did your husband enjoytreating you like this? His disappearance on that morning was a cold reminder that he felt nothing towards you. No sentiment, no adoration. 

Despite the tears which had bade your eyes that morning, until the mid-afternoon, you had a productive day. Of course, leaving the house was out of the question; what would the media say if devoted wife of Ferrari’s driver was seen without him, on their wedding anniversary of all days? 

Instead, you’d played soft music whilst re-organising your wardrobe, something you’d put off for a while now. Cooking a meal whilst lazily treading around the kitchen, experimenting with the spices that Yuki had gifted to you on your previous visit to a Grand Prix. The meal itself was too big to eat alone. Instead, you boxed up the remainders of what was left in the tray, carefully placing it in the fridge, knowing Charles wouldn’t actually eat it. 

Your evening had been…less productive. You’d found solace in a glass of red wine, lounging on the sofa of the main living area; usually, you kept as far away from that zone as possible. Charles would spend his evenings in the couch, eyes flickering between the television and his phone, no doubt sending longing messages to his mistress whilst his wife was in the home. 

The ­third glass had just about been drained. You were adamant upon gaining a fourth, no longer caring of any commitments you had the next day. Instead, you sat up abruptly from the sofa, hearing the gentle click from the front door. 

He had come back to the house. 

His green eyes barely took a second to meet yours, slipping off his shoes and placing them into the rack situated by the front door. A rustle of his jacket signified his option to stay. You saw him carry the garment over his arm as he trudged into the living area, set to lie in front of the television for some personal relaxation. 

With his entry to the room, you suddenly remembered your position. You’d hastily stood up from the couch, collecting the half-finished bottle from the low table, holding the glass to your chest to draw the attention away from your beverage. 

Charles said nothing; he’d unlatched the top two buttons from his dress shirt; faint purple marks nestled on the lower joint of his neck; a clear mark that his mistress had previously made, a sinful reminder of his adultery. 

“I left you some dinner in the fridge.” You mumbled, voice barely picking up over the sound of the television. “There’s some clean loungewear on the end of your bed, too.” You finish your sentence. Your husband doesn’t even attempt to tell you he’s acknowledged your words, eyes transfixed on whatever news was currently playing on the television. 

“Happy Anniversary.” You mumble, feet leading you back to the kitchen, the bottle of wine against your chest now seemingly the only attention you’d ever get. 

Charles Leclerc is an actor. 

The entire drive to the track had been bade in complete silence; not even the radio had been switched on to drown out the undeniable tension in the car. You had originally tried to make light conversation with the man; he couldn’t even be bothered to make a sound in response to any of your questions. 

You couldn’t handle the harsh tone he had snapped at you with the previous time you had been in the car; instead, you watched the rolling hills and glistening sun of Monza. It was always one of the highlights of the year. If not for the racing, you would have come here in your own time, to bask in the sun and to enjoy the secluded section of Italy as an individual. 

The incredible views soon began to fade out, instead replaced by expensive cars and adoring fans, leaning over the barriers in an attempt to see their favourite drivers; there was an uproar as your husband drove past the crowds; he was clearly the home favourite, as any member of the Ferrari crew would be in this location. Silently, you slipped on the sunglasses which had been resting in the pouch of your bag, knowing the paparazzi would be blistering your eyesight sooner rather than later. 

Charles effortlessly parked his car in the allocated spot. Silently, he switches off the engine, removing the keys and shoving them into his jean pocket. The man doesn’t so much as register your presence as he opens his door, leaving you to venture out of the car yourself. You’d carefully adjusted the flowing fabric of your dress; the patterned fabric flowing gently around your calves. 

You looked beautiful. You just wished your husband would care enough to tell you.  

Instead, his priority is the cameras leaning over the barriers. He doesn’t even look in your direction, instead firmly grasping your hand in his own; an act the two of you had performed for the crowd oh-so-many times. He waves towards the crowds; neither of you miss the adoring sounds, the coos for many of the fan’s favourite ‘couple.’ To so many, his affection seemed to clear to you, and yours did to him. 

Charles didn’t hold your hand with any adoration. His grasp was harsh, palms roughly mashed together, no intent to keep your grip safe against his own. You were certain that if you were to let go, he wouldn’t think to remedy the situation. Your theory is proven when you gently let go, instead keeping in step, just behind his figure; Charles’ hand seems as if it’s gone into idle mode. His eyes, however, stayed alert, vigilant. Silently, the two of you pass through the paddock security, pausing every few moments for Charles to sign a cap, take a photograph with a fan. 

It isn’t until you reach the outskirts of the Ferrari Building that you see her. Soft hair around her shoulders, clothing exquisite, her eyes flickering to your husband, offering him a sympathising smile. 

He may have been a devoted husband towards the press, to Ferrari, even to the majority of his team. However, the moment that the cameras were turned off, microphones pushed away, he was sneaking to his mistress, one he had shamelessly invited to so many Grand Prix’s over the past nine months. She was what he wanted; a fun and fancy-free lady, rather than the wife whom stood by his side. There’s a glance between the two of them, as if a whole conversation is had in that moment. 

You stay silent as you follow Charles into the Ferrari Building. Instantly, you’re overwhelmed by the welcomes that your husband obtains; so many of them pass onto you. Upon the questions of how married life is treating him, he smiles, fakes a laugh as he pulls you into his side, one hand firmly resting upon your waist. 

“Married life is perfect.” He insists, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, one which you falsely giggle about, ignoring the butterflies which were nestling in the pit of your stomach. “It’s even better when she’s standing right here, beside me.” 

The entirety of the room buys the staged scene, all except for two people. The first, obviously, is your father. He’s always there, watching that the driver is performing well. He knows of his affair, but in his mind, as long as the affair is kept out of the light, and his marriage was still official, their deal continued. Besides, he would speak to you both sooner rather than later upon extending the family; that would seal both of your fates towards one another. Nobody liked a husband whom left a wife and child. 

The second was Carlos Sainz; the second driver for Scuderia Ferrari. 

The Spaniard was all too aware of the affair between Charles and his mistress; after qualifying from Baku, Carlos had found his teammate behind the garage, his hands with a firm grip on her waist, their kisses entirely formed of tounge and teeth. The man had furiously ripped Charles from the woman, bellowing in his face about the wife he had, whilst this woman warmed his bed. A deep blush had formed over both of their cheeks, Charles explaining that you were aware of his actions. 

Carlos didn’t want to believe it; he’d frantically messaged you that evening, to which you had answered his question, confirming you knew of the affair. That evening, you had revealed everything to him, watching his eyes get glossier as the cruel details were flickered in front of his eyes. It pained him; he’d cared for you since the moment you’d first stepped foot into the paddock alongside your father. His heart shattered upon finding out that you had been betroved to Charles, that he had missed his chance, all that time ago. 

He waits; waits until later in the day to approach you. By this point, you had made yourself comfortable in Charles’ driver room. Of course, your husband isn’t actually there. After a brief encounter with most of the members on his team, he’d excused himself. Carlos knew that he had snuck away from the crowds adorned in red to see his mistress, likely stealing kisses and rough fumbles between one another. Whilst that was happening, you, were sat in his drivers’ room, skirts spread across the soft lounger, eyes engrossed in a book which had been enclosed in your bag alongside your sunglasses.

 You were the epitome of beauty in Carlos’ eyes. He could have stood at the ajar door to the room, watching you as you engrossed yourself in the story. Instead, he offers a light cough, drawing your attention from the book in your lap. He’s engrossed by your eyes, how the light reflected off them, the glow they offered. Your smile, how you presented your real smile to him so naturally, not the one you forged next to your husband on every single encounter. 

“Good morning, Carlos!” You greet him with a bright tone, standing up from your position on the couch. You offer him a hug, feeling his warm arms wrap around your waist, his breath against your face when he kisses your cheek gently. ‘In another life,’ you always tell yourself. One where you were happy, free to marry a man who would return your affection. 

“Good morning, Mariposa.” The nickname rolls of his tongue; one he had presented ever since you had once showed up in the paddock, the most beautiful butterfly-imprinted dress flowing in the soft breeze of that Monaco weekend. “You’re hiding out in here today, yes?” He teases. You offer him a small shrug, eyes not able to meet those sweet brown ones of the man stood in front of you. 

“Charles is…busy.” You finish the sentence abruptly. Carlos knows not to question further; the two of you have a mutual understanding as to where he would be at this point during the day; wrapped up in the arms of another woman. “He’s probably on his track walk…maybe. I’m just…keeping occupied.” You motion towards the window, looking onto the first straight of the track. “Plus…it looks windy out there.” 

“Well…” Carlos invites himself into the room now, looking down at your attire, seeing that your feet were enclosed with the brilliant white trainers you’d left home in that morning. The man shrugs off his own windbreaker, holding it in his arm. “If I give you my jacket, would you like to come on my track walk?” He offers, holding out the garment to you. 

You knew you would probably live to regret that moment. However, if you stayed resting in Charles’ driver room much longer, reading the same line of your book whilst your thoughts trailed away to how he would be with his mistress, you would go crazy.

“I’d love to.” You finally respond, slipping your arms through the large sleeves of Carlos’ jacket. Offering you a pat on the shoulder, he motions towards the exit of the driver’s room, determined to keep you on his side whilst walking across the track loved by fans far and wide. He hopes that everybody misses the longing gazes and soft smile on his face every time you make a comment, or your hands brush a little too closely. 

Charles Leclerc is a neck kisser. 

It’s not as if you would know this. The only kisses you ever had were those for show. Cold, meaningless interactions between somebody who attempted to show unconditional love and one who could dream of being anywhere else in that moment. 

You’d carefully unlatched the front door of the house, your wireless earbuds resting comfortably in your ears, unable to hear any other sound apart from the music playing. Slipping off your shoes, hanging up your jacket; your only intention for the afternoon was to go through some of the notes you had made regarding education courses in the area; sitting at home day after day was truly aggravating. You couldn’t pick up yet another hobby. Maybe some form of learning would interest you. 

But first, you needed a drink to cool yourself off from the sun. You’d remembered the smoothie packs you made earlier in the week; one of those and going through your notes seemed a perfect plan for the current moment. 

The second you rounded the corner into the open-plan kitchen, you wished that you could have taken the scenic route home. 

His mistress was sat up on the kitchen island, back straight, legs wrapped around the waist of your husband, her hands grasping at the soft curls atop of his head. Charles’ hands slid across her back, soft grunts coming from his lips, his mouth leaving open-mouthed kisses along her slender neck. She was loving it, at least, that’s what you could judge from the noises leaving her mouth. 

Before either of them could clock your arrival, both too wrapped-up in their embrace, you’d stepped out of the kitchen, hand over your mouth to silence the sobs which were threatening to escape. In a moment, you’re out of the hallway, letting your feet carry you up the carpeted stairs. 

The only intention now embedded in your mind was to drink so much you would forget the scene unfolding in front of your eyes. 

Charles Leclerc is a slow replier. 

The smell of tequila and sweat is strong in the cramped hallway of the club. It was insane to believe that less than three hours ago, you had been cocooned in your king-size duvet, lips slightly parted as you strung a meaningless thread of text messages to one another; you didn’t truly care how one of your friends felt in that moment, the heartbreak shattering in your chest was stronger than any other emotion you could begin to comprehend. 

No, your sole reason for texting was to leave this god-forsaken house. You kept telling yourself not to care. Charles’ eyes were all you could think about as you picked out your shortest, slinkiest dress; one which enhanced every curve and dip in the most elegant way. Charles’ dimples were all you could think about when your attention was drawn to outlining your lips with a deep red gloss. Charles’ lips were all you could think about, your foot sliding into the black heeled shoe, your feet finding no solace in being propped up within six inches of their life. 

Your friend had messaged you the location of the designated club. How anybody could enjoy one of those places sober was beyond your comprehension. Instead, you had taken the route of every other supposed being in that club; one shot of a suspicious-looking liquid had turned into sixteen – his number, you couldn’t help remembering. That was the reason you had found yourself stood motionlessly in the hallway, trying to navigate yourself back to the bar. At least seventeen wouldn’t have been tied to any other emotion. 

The plan, however, was short-lived when you hear a familiar voice call your name. Turning too quickly in your ridiculous heels, you’re met with the figures of Kelly Piquet and Max Verstappen, hands linked together, clearly nowhere near as intoxicated as you were in that moment. 

Kelly moves first; you had always enjoyed her presence, spending time with her around the Paddock when you were bade to attend. Penelope was one of the sweetest three-year-olds you had ever come across, always greeting you with a toothy grin and a story of her and ‘Maxie’s’ escapades. When her mother encloses you in a hug, you can feel the tears fall, your drunken façade falling immediately. The woman simply cups your hand in her face, delicately wiping the tears from your lash line, making sure to remove any heavy clumps of mascara. She asks you where Charles is, where your husband is. You can’t make any sound which you believe is cohesive, something about him being back at the house.

Max by now, has his own arm resting around your shoulder. You were Charles’ wife, after all. He knew Charles would do the same for Kelly if she was ever to be found in this state. Something strange stabs at his chest; maybe he was too protective, but he would have never of let Kelly get into this state, at least, not on her own. The driver carefully fumbles in his back pocket, unlocking his own device and filing through his contacts to phone Charles. 

The phone goes straight to voicemail, not even a dialling tone. Max tries a second time, a third time. Instead, he leaves messages. How on gods earth did Charles feel relaxed, knowing his wife would be out, probably on some form of alcohol, and not think to check that she would be safe returning home? If only he knew. 

The duo moves to a second plan. You needed some fresh air before they could attempt to get you into a car and take you home; standing in the corridor of a nightclub was not an ideal situation, instead moving you to the exit. Your eyes widen, looking up to Max and Kelly as if you had shrunk right down to Penelope’s age, as if they would be the saviours to get you home. By the way Max was holding you by his side and Kelly stroking your hair behind your ears, you may as well been their daughter. 

Conversations are had; neither of them is sober enough to drive you home, nor do they think it’s wise to try and sneak you into their hotel room when they had already issues when checking in a little too late. Their prayers are answered when a group of men wander past, one of them stopping to smack Max, his fellow driver on the back. His dark eyes, ones you know so well, widen when he sees your figure, looking so fragile in the light of the early hours in the city. 

“Mariposa.” He murmurs, running a hand across your cheek, wanting nothing more than to hold your frame against his chest. Your soft eyes meet his own dark ones, glossed in concern for how on earth you could do this to yourself. The man murmurs something to Max and Kelly, ensuring them that he’d been the sober friend out of his group; promising he would get you home himself. The duo has no reason to not trust him, both of them leaving a gentle kiss on your cheek before retiring to their own hotel. 

As the couple walk away from the club, you can only feel the warmth of Carlos’ hand, still resting on your face. When he at last turns his attention back to you, he simply wraps a strong arm around your waist, supporting you to stand in those awful, heeled shoes. At the pace you’re walking back towards his car, you would get there just after the sunrise. Instead, he scroops you into his grasp. 

The affection, the physical contact is all too much for you. It had been so, so long since anybody had held you, cared for you like this. Your clouded mind, now overwhelmed by warmth and alcohol allowed you to lean your head into Carlos’ sturdy chest. If you were sober, you’d be able to feel the way his heart raced when feeling you rest against him. 

“Why do you do this to yourself, Mariposa?” He murmurs, settling you into the passenger seat of his car. He can’t help but remove his own jacket, wrapping the soft fabric around your arms, letting you nuzzle into the scent of his fabric softener and aftershave. Once settling himself into the driving seat, he begins the route back to the house, one hand gently resting atop of your leg, some form of comfort for the world in your mind which seemed to be caving in. 

“I’d never do this to you.” He whispers, turning into the driveway that he had become accustomed to since the marriage. 

Across the city, Max Verstappen is sound asleep. His phone, plugged in on the dressing table across the room buzzes once, notifying a text from his racing rival. 

03:21: Charles Leclerc

Hey, sorry, was busy with something. Is everything good?

Charles Leclerc is a traveller.

You hadn’t expected anything to awaken you after the way your body had reacted to the previous night. A natural awakening, however, would have been a lot nicer than hearing the clicking sound of wheels against flooring. Whatever, whoever was outside of your room most certainly had a death wish to awaken you that morning. 

It felt as if pins had been pressed into every square inch of your head, the task of even sitting up and forcing yourself towards the door of your bedroom, still dressed in your slinky garment and…somebody’s jacket? The night for you had truly ended as soon as you had that ninth shot of tequila; you thought you could remember Max and Kelly in the same location at some point, maybe that was your mind playing tricks on you, longing for people who enjoyed your company. 

You were pulled back to the present when the figure of your husband appears at your doorway. He’s dressed already; loose hoodie and tracksuit bottoms cover his frame; his hand is clasping tightly onto a suitcase. There wasn’t a Grand Prix this weekend, you were certain. He would have left days ago for that. There was-

“I’m going to stay with…” He pauses, clearly trying to think of the correct way to word the fact he would be staying with his Mistress until further notice. Even in your state, you understand, simply raising your hand to stop him from speaking. You didn’t want to hear her name, you didn’t want to know that he would be spending the next nights wrapped in her arms, because for once…you didn’t care. 

They say alcohol causes dangerous mistakes, but in this moment, your hangover seemed to be your best friend. Every single time, you would think later, Charles would come back from seeing her, would leave to spend an evening by her side or sneak away during your paddock appearances…and you would be focused, your sole attention being on when he would return. Now? Your sole focus was on throwing up the remains of alcohol in your stomach, placing on a facemask and ordering some kind of comfort food to your home. 

You didn’t care about him, not right now. Your actions relay this, simply offering him a nod before speaking, your voice surprisingly clear for how much your throat was weeping for a drink.

“Okay.” You pause. There’s nothing left to say after that. What does he want you to do? Wish him a happy time? Charles looks equally taken aback, usually expecting some kind of warm drabble on how he needed to stay safe. In that moment, he can’t help but…want it.

“I’ll be back on Wednesday to pack for Singapore.” He pauses this time, taking in your appearance, your face so…gentle, soothing. “You’re coming, yes?” He remembers a conversation had many a time; his wife should be there to support him as much as possible, even if he wasn’t a fan of the sly ways he would have to leave her in front of his team members.

He isn’t expecting a shrug of the shoulders, bringing a hand up to rest on the door, clearly ready to close it at any given moment. 

“I’m not sure.” You offer him, sighing as you begin to close the door yourself. “My father said that race isn’t a priority.” That was the last sentence you offered him before closing the door. You obviously do not see it, but on the other side of the wall, Charles stands in confusion for a full twenty seconds before snapping back to his reality, his clutch on the suitcase a little tighter as he begins his decent down the stairs, wondering where on earth he had seen that jacket you were wearing before?

Your own priorities that morning was in full swing; you had placed your phone on charge, messages beginning to thread through as you stepped into the shower, the cool water savouring your skin. A fluffy robe is tied around your waist, brushing your hair around your back whilst your attention focused on rehydrating your skin, brushing your teeth and cleaning the dirt from underneath your eyes. 

The silence is strong when you walk back into your bedroom. In that moment, you opt for some music whilst changing into some comfortable loungewear, easy to roam around the house in and let your hair dry naturally. Sitting at the end of the bed, you’re able to check notifications, seeing Kelly had sent you a photo of Penelope that morning, smiling for her favourite aunt. You see your most recent text had come through from none other than Charles’ teammate, following one which had been sent early that morning. 

03:45: Carlos Sainz

Sweet dreams, Mariposa. Let me know if you need anything please. 

11:51: Carlos Sainz

Just seen on Twitter Charles is at the airport, he’s not off to see her, is he?

His message brings so many emotions to you, and also answers the question of who’s jacket you had been wearing that morning. Your heart can’t help but soften, knowing already that Charles is on his way to see...her. You think back to your mindset from earlier, how it was the last thing you wanted to care about. Why on earth would you care about them, when you could be focusing on ordering your favourite food and calling your nail technician to come to the house? That would make you feel better, better than he ever had.

You first drop a message to Carlos in response, wanting to let him know you had woken up from potential alcohol poisoning. 

12:25: You

Yeah, he is. Didn’t seem so happy that I couldn’t care less. Thank you for the jacket last night, I hope you had a good evening. 

12:28: Carlos Sainz

All the better for seeing you. Hoping the hangover isn’t too bad today. 

The messages spring backwards and forwards between the two of you for the afternoon; you’re smiling whilst you go through your favourite meal, the taste of it filling your mouth in the best way possible. There’s still a smile on your face when your nail technician arrives, painting some delicate designs into your fingers and toes, subtly asking who on earth has you smiling that much.

It isn’t until that evening; you’re sat in front of the television, a series you had watched one-too many times playing, your eyes glued to the storyline as if it would change again. The notification on your phone instantly drew your attention away from the screen, looking down to see a text on your screen.

21:03: Carlos Sainz

Why don’t you come and stay in Madrid for a few days? I’m sure we could both do with the company.

Charles Leclerc is a stalker. 

Well, maybe stalker was too strong of a word. However, his intentions were identical, having watched your latest Instagram story three- no, four times. Since leaving the home several days earlier, his mind could not stop thinking about the fact you truly could not care less about where he was going. This wasn’t you, was it? 

He’d arrived at her house, being temporarily distracted by luring himself into her bedroom, an afternoon of escapades and touches until she had rolled onto her side, telling him she was going to shower, and he would be more than welcome to join her. Instead, he pulled out his phone, seeing if you had done your usual; texting him to check that he had arrived safely, asking when he could be coming back to the house. 

There’s no messages, no notifications. Huffing to himself, Charles instead pulls up your Instagram, seeing that you had posted a new story that evening, a suitcase in hand, an emoji of an aircraft and a Spanish flag. You were off somewhere, and hadn’t told him? No, no. You always told him where you were going, you always-

“Are you not joining me, then?” Charles’ mistress’ voice suddenly draws him out of his trance, a towel wrapped around her body, hair around her shoulders. It was nowhere near as soft and as gentle as yours was, he realised in that moment. He eventually nods, pulling himself from his phone and following her into the en-suite. 

He’s so…distant for the remainder of his visit. When the two of them go to a secluded spot for lunch, when they go for a drive in a car they had hired for the afternoon. When she’s lazily pressing kisses along his neck, trying to grind into his crotch, desperate for his attention. When she finally falls asleep, Charles pulls out his phone, looking through any of the photos you had posted from that day. The soft sands of the beach, a hugestrawberry ice-cream cone, a mirrored selfie of yourself in the most beautiful sundress, hair curled and clearly ready for an evening in the Spanish sun. 

The routine continues, he sees your adventures, day after day. You’re touring small markets, trying local delicacies. One day, you’re simply lounging by a pool for the afternoon, a fat paperback resting on your stomach, clearly engrossed by the story which was resting on your stomach. Each time he sees a post, he can’t help but be drawn to how he wants to know how you’re doing. Maybe that’s why he drops you a text message, trying to gain some sort of traction from how you were doing. 

23:54: Charles Leclerc

Are you home? I’ve got a flight tomorrow afternoon.

You don’t respond; now, your phone is at the bottom of your bag, resting on the inside cabin of Carlos’ boat. For your final day in Madrid, he had insisted on taking you for a boat ride. You’d shyly mentioned earlier in that week that Charles had never taken you on his own boat, despite the fact that you were indeed married. 

The sun began to set over the rolling waves of the ocean; the boat is gently rocking, the sounds of water lapping over one another was music to your ears. You were sat at the edge of the now stilled boat, contemplating dipping your toes into the water. Your attention is so drawn to the scenery that you don’t hear him step away from the wheel, crouching next to you. 

“You could just go in.” He teases, “rather than staring at the water. You know how to swim.” The taunt causes you to roll your eyes, simply looking to the Spaniard on your right-hand side. 

“What? And have you speed off without me?” You retaliate, using your shoulder to nudge his body. Carlos clicks his lips together, mumbling something incoherent, before he’s suddenly scooped you up into your arms; despite your sounds of protests, he simply holds you against his chest tighter. His dark eyes flicker between yours and the ocean water below the two of you. Before you can say anything, his feet have made their own choice, jumping off the edge of the boat, both of you tumbling into the sea. Your briefly submerged entirely, before your head pops out of the waves, blindly reaching around until two strong arms encircle your waist. 

Both you and Carlos laugh for a moment, in pure awe that you just did that. He moves first, one of his hands releasing from your waist, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. There’s a silence between the two of you, where the only sound emitting from your surroundings is the gentle waves of the sea. In that moment, Carlos Sainz wants nothing more than to lean forward, pressing his lips to your own. They look so…soft. He craves to give them the attention they had been longing for so long. But…you’re married. And even if your marriage is loveless, to a point where your husband is openly in an affair, he would never do that to you. Instead, he settles for resting one hand on your cheek, gently kissing the top of your forehead, murmuring some Spanish wording you would never remember. 

If you did understand it, however, you would have known that he said there and then that he would always be devoted to you. 

Charles Leclerc is a loud shouter. 

His voice seemed to travel for miles, you were almost certain the entirety of the secluded neighbourhood could hear him at this current moment. The man had returned home from his secluded stay with his mistress to an empty house; at that point, you were still in the depths of Madrid, packing up your own suitcase, wishing Carlos luck on the Singapore Grand Prix. You had intended to return to the house after Charles had left himself; the heartbreak of seeing him littered in love-bites, his eyes transfixed to his phone from her messages was too much for you.

However, if you had been at the house when he had arrived home, you would have seen his neck clear, phone shoved into his back pocket as he called out your name, wondering if you had returned home yourself. Charles notices your trainers haven’t been left on the shoe rack; there’s no music to signify your afternoon relaxation. A light knock to the door of your room signifies there’s nobody home. The house feels empty. 

Maybe, Charles Leclerc was beginning to understand how you felt. 

His first instinct is to message you. Surely, you would have seen his text from his previous message by now; what would it hurt to check in once more. The man feels against his rough jean pocket for the device, swiping away from the multiple notifications from his mistress, instead scrolling to your contact’s name, seeing you hadn’t been active in almost twelve hours. You hadn’t even opened his message. 

His thumb hovers above the keyboard, not entirely sure what to say in this situation. Instead, he opts to call your number instead; you had always picked up to him; whenever he needed you to stay away from the house, or to remind you to be ready to leave at a certain time. The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. On the fourth ring, your voicemail comes through the speaker, signifying him that you were too busy to pick up the telephone. 

Charles didn’t grow concerned during the evening; he grew angry. You were his wife. You were supposed to be at the house to greet him, to welcome him with open arms, ask about his day. Even if…even if he had chosen to ignore your welcoming’s and kind heart for over a year. The man found a distraction in going through the information that Scuderia Ferrari had sent him for his journey tomorrow, making sure his passport was in the correct place. He hadn’t needed to pack; you had made sure to do that for him before your own departure, making sure his comfortable clothes were packed and sunglasses safely secured in the pouches of the case. 

It was late, late for you when the door finally opened, signalling the arrival of a second being. Charles immediately sits up from his slouched position on the couch, stepping up from the sofa, almost ready to give you a piece of his mind. Upon reaching the hallway, he sees you, slipping off your trainers, leaving the suitcase next to the front door. Even underneath your jumper, he can see your skin is glowing from the Mediterranean sun, yet your eyes are watering, tears leaking from your lower lash line. 

“Where on earth have you been?” He snaps, not actually wanting to hear an answer. You open your mouth to respond, but the man cuts you off before you can speak. “I am your husband. You’re supposed to wait for me!” His temper is getting the better of him, green eyes flickering with anger. 

At this point, you’re exhausted, overwhelmed from the news you had received on your drive home, and for this man to question your loyalties to your marriage? You can’t help the scoff which falls from your lips, the emotions building a little too much.

“You’re my husband?” You mock in confusion. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise my husband was around at long last, not wrapped in the arms of another woman!” Your temper flares, pushing your hair behind your shoulders, grasping the suitcase to take upstairs and repack. 

“You didn’t pick up your phone once.” Charles retaliates. Oh, the cheek of-

“Like when you pick up your phone when I call?” The tears are beginning to flow freely now, wanting nothing more than to get upstairs and completely ignore what has been happening. “You don’t Charles. You’ve done nothing to show that you’re my husband in the past twelve months!” You can’t help yourself now. Instead of seeking the new suitcase, you simply turn around on the step of the front door, slipping your trainers back onto your feet. 

“Where are you going?” His voice is now laced in concern; you couldn’t leave yet, surely? You’d only just returned; you wouldn’t be safe to drive in this condition. Why on earth did he care now? His question is answered, but not in the way he desired. 

“Like you would care.” It’s the last thing you say before the door to the house is slammed shut. 

Charles Leclerc is an investigator. 

When arriving in the Ferrari Garage of Singapore, there’s already an eerie feeling through the air; there are no smiles, sympathising looks thrown towards the back end of the garage. The driver isn’t stupid, he knows something must be wrong. He’s unsure of who to ask; who would know what is going on? 

His original plan was to ask Xavi, maybe during their morning briefing, until he is told that his flight has been delayed and wouldn’t be there until the late afternoon. Eventually, he spots his racing partner, nestled in the corner of the garage, his eyes flickering across his own phone screen, rapidly typing a message to somebody he would rather not admit to. 

“Hey.” He speaks softly, not wanting to startle the man. Silently, Carlos looks up from his device, offering his teammate a small nod, not wanting to prolapse the eye contact for too long. Charles can sense he knows what has happened, eyes narrowing in confusion. “Why is everybody so…quiet?” 

The look on Carlos’ face signifies he’s said something wrong. His eyes darken, shaking his head in disappointment rather than fury. It correlates to the kind of look his father would give him during a long talk, when he had broken something and not admitted to it. The Spaniard isn’t sure he should even tell his teammate what had happened. Instead, he changes his phone application to the Emails App, handing the device over to Charles. His eyes flicker across the screen, taking in the information. 

Ferrari’s biggest benefactor, your father, would not be attending the race weekend after the untimely death of his wife. Your mother. It suddenly correlates; how the night before, you had seemed inconsolable, despite the fact you had obviously had an incredible vacation. You’d tried to simply walk away, to let yourself grieve without bothering him. Instead, you had found comfort in Carlos as he had driven you to the airport, whispering sweet words of comfort, promising that everything was going to be okay. 

Charles feels his blood run cold, he feels sick. The look on the man stood in front of him tells him enough; he had made the biggest mistake of his life. Murmuring an excuse, he leaves the garage, stepping to the secluded back area, the realisation that he is everything his mother never wanted him to be, hitting hard. He still had the ability to run to her, to ask for her advice. You didn’t have that anymore. You didn’t have anybody, least of all your husband. 

The first thing he does in that moment, is pull out his phone, scrolling to the contact of his mistress.

10:09: Charles Leclerc

We need to talk. 

Charles Leclerc is a phone call away.

The past day had been filled of tears, clinging to your father, to your younger siblings, to your elder cousins. How on earth your mother had left this world early was beyond you. It wasn’t fair. Nothing was fair. Your mother was the one whom had been your rock for the past miserable year of your marriage. If not for her, you were almost certain that you would have thrown your silvery key to the house down a drain so long ago.

Without her guidance, without her tutoring, you felt like bird trying to fly individually for the first time; surrounded by fears and almost certain you’d fall into compromising position. 

You hadn’t rested. Not since you had arrived at the bleak family home. As customed, every curtain was drawn close, doors to each room sealed, no natural light emitting to the large house, making every shadow and crook of the building seem more terrifying. Eventually, your father had retired to his own bedroom, your younger siblings tucked into their beds, butterfly kisses pressed against their foreheads, a silent promise you were only down the hall if they so desired you. 

The bedroom you had grown up in remained almost identical to the one you had painted in your mind; pale pink wallpaper, a luxury bed lined with a rosebud-patterned quilt set. The vanity you had last used to get ready on your wedding day remained pristine, the perfumes and scents which had been your favourite still sitting atop of your shelf. And the photographs. A polaroid of your two closest friends from your childhood; one of your sisters on her christening day, the entire family dressed so elegantly; Charles is in that photograph, off to the side alongside his brothers; you had no idea there and then that boy with the ocean eyes would become your estranged husband. 

You could have continued going down memory lane, if not from the buzzing which was coming from your bed. The phone you had carelessly thrown atop of the blankets when first entering the room had finally got some service, a thread of text messages and missed phone calls beginning to filter through. Silently, you take a seat on the edge of your bed, eyes flickering across each message. Some are from members of the Ferrari team, others from family members you hadn’t heard from in what felt like centuries. 

There’s one. One from the man whom you had spent the previous week with. The one who had consoled you whilst travelling to the family home. Your husband’s teammate. 

23:05: Carlos Sainz

Mariposa, please let me know how you are doing. I’m so worried about you. Let me know if you need anything at all. 

23:31: You

Thank you, C. I should be heading home tomorrow, with a bit of luck I’ll be able to swing by and say hello. 

You hadn’t expected anything else that evening. You were settled, ready to focus on yourself for the remainder of the evening; in your eyes, there was a high likelihood that your siblings would be burrowing into your blankets later. Once dressed in nightwear, the makeup that had stained your cheeks removed, you noticed the soft glow of your phone screen. Another message had just been received, and in your wildest dreams, you could not have imagined whom it was from.

00:24: Charles Leclerc

I heard about your mother this afternoon; I am truly so, so sorry for your loss. Please let me know if there is anything I can do. I mean it. 

Your eyes had barely had time to view the message which had just been received, before your phone screen changes, taking the message away from your sight. The message thread is replaced by a photograph of your husband, his name lighting up on you phone screen. You don’t even think; instead, your thumb swipes across the screen, pressing the green button and holding the device to your ear. 

“Charles.” You speak one word, hearing your husband visibly relax on the other end of the line. You realise it’s the first time you’ve said anything coherent in hours; the tone of your voices echoes around the room. Did you always sound that sad when you spoke to him?

“Hey.” He isn’t too sure what he wants to say; the lack of conversation between the two of you means he isn’t aware if there are any boundaries, anything you wouldn’t discuss with him. No, he just wanted to speak to you, to check in. In reality, he had realised how lonely the house was as an individual. His mistress was gone from his contacts, not inviting her around to fill the void had made him realise how you had felt for oh-so-long. 

“How…” He pauses, not sure on how to finish his question. He doesn’t need to, because despite the lack of understanding of one another, you know he’s trying, trying to make you feel better.

“I’m…yeah.” You can’t find the correct words to say; ‘sad’ is an understatement, ‘fine’ is a rude response. Neither of you can find the words, but in that moment, you crave somebody who isn’t mourning the loss of your mother as heavily as you are. 

“We have some new neighbours.” He’s trying to find anything to create some conversation. It’s almost as if he knows the quiet of the room is making you feel uncomfortable. “They left us an invitation to join them for a tennis session- not that I’m any good.” He laughs to himself, remembering the previous time he’d attended a tennis game alongside his fellow drivers; he’d had to step out after a few minutes, completely terrified he would end up breaking his hand. 

He doesn’t hear anything from the other side of the line but continues to talk. “Are you…” He catches himself for a moment. “Are you coming back soon?” His voice turns into barely a whisper, as if saying the wrong thing will cause you to hang up immediately. He doesn’t hear anything for a moment, taking a gentle sigh and awaiting your response. 

“Yeah.” You pause. Are you doing this? Are you having a conversation with your husband? “I’m going to fly home tomorrow afternoon. I think my father wants space.” Your sentence closes, looking around your room. The silence is deathly; in that moment, you don’t care about everything that’s happened. All you want is for somebody to hold you in their arms and tell you it would be okay. 

“I’ll come and get you.” Charles has spoken before his mouth has had time to catch his brain. Your eyebrows quirk in confusion. The only time your estranged husband ever drove you himself was on your endless journeys to races; you would sit silently, curled away from his figure, eyes transfixed as the world passed by around you. The man not only offering but wanting to pick you up from the airport was a new-found curiosity. 

“It’s okay.” You don’t let him continue. If previous standings have taught you anything, it’s that behind those mesmerising eyes cannot be trusted. You knew the secrets that lied beyond the ocean settled in his eye. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt you.” Part of your heart is craving to bring up his mistress; how she would probably be warming his bed in the current moment, walking around the house which you ached to find comfort in. 

“You wouldn’t.” Charles is quick to respond; in his heart of heart, he knows getting you to trust him again would be a monumental task. He’d do anything to prove he would be the husband who would look after you. Who would love you unconditionally; the husband you deserved.

“I’ll let you know when I’ve landed, okay?” It’s your final compromise. The woman whom you had been twelve months ago would love nothing more than to run into Charles’ arms; whether he cared for you the way you did; you would always desire his attention and affection. You’d had to learn through the months that some of life’s biggest temptations had to remain untouched.  

Charles Leclerc is your husband.

Landing back in the country was almost eerie; despite being away for only a miniscule amount of time, you felt changed; changed by the loss of your closest companion, changed by the fact your husband had been the one to call you, and not to throw some crazy request down the telephone line. 

Arrivals, as always, were completely smothered; couples reuniting, children screaming at the sudden change of scenery. After obtaining your own bag, your eyes flicker through the never-ending crowds, desperate to find some recognition. 

Standing apart from the crowd, looking effortlessly rugged in his athletic shorts and hoodie, hair pushed underneath a snapback. His eyes are trained on you, as if he had sensed your presence into the room in less than a moment. The breath catches in the back of your dried throat, a pair of eyes that you trusted undoubtedly. Stumbling, your feet carry you over to the arms of your favourite Spaniard, your head instantly finding solace in the joint between his shoulder and neck, the cologne you were used to from his attendances around the paddock creating a cloud of comfort. 

Carlos’ hands effortlessly lock around your torso, pulling you tighter into his chest, one palm rubbing up and down your back. It was the first time, the first time in a long time that anybody had offered you this sort of affection. Mindlessly, the soft tears begin to pool at the bottom of your lash line. Soft snuffles emitting from your lips cause the man to hush you gently, pulling your face away from his body, cradling your head between his larger hands. 

He mumbles something quietly, something about taking you back to the house. If it was him, the man would bundle you into his car and drive to his own home. He’d nestle you under his bedroom blankets, dress you in one of his hoodies. Instead, his rough palm finds your soft fingers, intertwining your hands together. Carlos takes your suitcase in his free hand, guiding you to his car parked outside of the airport. 

Not much is said during the shortening journey back to the house; the tears glossing your eyes reflect the streetlights, transfixed on the roads which you had left for a few short days. The tears will continue to fall; her loss had taken a part of you that you would you never thought would return. The man to your right, eyes focused on the road can sense your heartbreak. He doesn’t wait to push you; he had spoken to you shortly after the news had originally broken, in that conversation, you had barely been able to say ten words before your voice cracked. Instead, Carlos rests a warm hand on your leg, a silent promise that he will be there no matter what. 

The journey feels too short; eventually the driveway to the house rolls into sight, Carlos slowing down the car. When it comes to a halt, he steps out immediately, obtaining your suitcase from the rear of the car, placing it down on the wheels. By this point, you’d wiggled from the seat, ready to wheel your case into the house. However, before you can move, his arms engulf you once more, clinging so tightly, your feet began to lift from the floor. You had clung back just as tight, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek; a silent ‘Thank you,’ for everything. 

The embrace ended, Carlos awaiting until the door had unlocked, nodding when he saw you safely enter the house. The building is practically silent; no television sounds, no gentle music, not even the whirr of Charles’ simulator in his downstairs office. Ears pricked, you could hear the jets of a shower from upstairs, the assumption that he must have been in the shower. Paranoia threads your mind, she wouldn’t be showering alongside, would she?

You don’t let your mind wander; instead, you focus on lugging the suitcase along the staircase, silently glad you had gotten further with it since your trip to Madrid. Beelining towards your room, the suitcase rolls behind you, resting it in the corner of the room, a silent promise you’d wash everything tomorrow. However, a delicate bouquet of soft, pink and fresh flowers decorated the vanity of the room; you knew you hadn’t bought flowers since Madrid, and these…They looked as if they’d been placed mere minutes ago. 

Overthinking had always been dangerous; instead, you keep yourself busy, wiggling your skincare bag from the suitcase, padding into your bathroom with that and a fresh set of long pyjamas; the late-night breeze had begun to tickle your skin since removing yourself from Carlos’ warm arms. The relish indulges your body, shampoo trickling through your hair, body wash bubbles tickling your body. You’d stepped out a few moments later, changing into the soft clothing, sitting in front of the mirror, brushing your hair out as carefully as you could have. 

Silently, your feet carry you from the en-suite towards the main bedroom. Standing at the head of the doorway, is none other than your husband, hair own hair damp from his shower, dressed in soft tracksuit bottoms and a tight tee-shirt. He’d seen your suitcase nestling in the corner of your bedroom, your phone had rumpled the blankets of your bed. Charles had been the one to hear the shower this time, deciding to wait, just to see your soft eyes.

They’re bloodshot; you look so…frail. The years of heartbreak littered across your face. Charles’ heart practically breaks; before you can say a word, he’s across the room, arms pulling around your torso, pulling your head under his chest. Your instinct tells you to fight it, why on earth would you accept some form of affection from a husband who had openly destined you for so long? 

And yet, you subcome to his affection, hesitantly holding your own arms to his chest. His scent, his warmth.You felt as if you were dreaming, eyes wet from the overwhelming care, feeling gentle kisses press to the top of your head. 

You don’t remember when Charles scooped you to his chest, tucking you into your fresh blankets before nestling in behind you himself. You remind yourself; this is a one-off. You’re almost certain that by tomorrow, he’ll be back in the arms of his mistress, your moment tonight will be an absent moment to your husband. You’ll take it; if it’s one night in his arms, feeling his breath against the back of your neck, tip of his nose pressing into your back, one hand pressed against your stomach in comfort, you’ll take it. 

Some point during the night, your phone buzzes, the sound barely audible on the blankets of your bed. You groan slightly, the bubble of yourself and Charles giving you a true form of sanctuary, a true form of home. Curiosity in the night takes the better of you, lifting the dying device to your eyes, slightly blinded by the glow of the screen. 

Despite being wrapped in the arms of your husband; you can feel your blood turn cold when you read the one sentence which had been left for you to find. 

01:46: Carlos Sainz

I’m in love with you. 

[javiscigarette]

Peaches n' Cream

Joel Miller x f!reader (pre/no outbreak)

Summary: You like peaches and Joel like watching you eat them.

Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, established relationship, (semi) public / outdoor sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), ass play, spitting, choking sliiightt daddy kink, one mention of Joel being pick up reader (but tbh he's strong af he can pick anyone up), absolutely no plot here Joel is just depraved and in love <3

w/c: 6k of pwp : )

a/n: I'm back!! And LISTEN! I knowwww I said Javi was next but the grip this man has on me is unreal and the peaches at the farmers market got me thinking about things!! Pls let me know if you liked this and my asks are always open to chat!!

my masterlist

The little stand was set up on the side of the road, just one old farmer and his tall piles of crates filled to the brim with peaches.

Images of you in the grocery store a couple weeks ago flash in Joel’s head, standing in front of the display brimming with peaches with your arms crossed over your chest and your bottom lip jutting out in a slight pout. 

“They’re not the good ones” 

“They look fresh” Joel states as he takes turns squeezing each peach to test the firmness. “What’s wrong with ‘em?”

“It’s still May” you replied

Joel just looked at you, eyebrows pinched together and completely lost on the point you were trying to make. 

“They won't be as sweet. They're the best at the end of June” you answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Sorry, not caught up on my peach facts I guess” 

You just roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Joel amused at how intensely you felt about the little fruits. 

But now it’s the last week of June. And as soon as he sees the stand there’s a rush of excitement thinking about the big smile you’d have for him when he walked through the door with a bag of fresh peaches. 

He pulls onto the shoulder of the road and parks his truck behind the line of the four other cars stopping for the same reason. The Texas sun is beating down on him, sweat prickling on the back of his neck in mere seconds as he waits patiently for the people in front of him to have their pick.

And when it’s his turn, he takes his time because of course it has to be perfect for you. He wasn’t looking for another peach lecture. 

“How d’ya pick out the ripest ones?” he asks the farmer. 

He listens carefully as the other man tells him how to spot the best ones, taking mental notes on everything from the ideal  firmness to the hue of the skin, even down to the smell. And he took the advice on getting a few that were ready to eat today and a few less ripe ones that you could eat a few days from now. After a few more minutes, he’s walking back to the truck carrying a paper bag filled to the top with peaches. 

When he gets home, he grabs a beer from the fridge then rinses the biggest peach from the bag under the kitchen tap. He has a direct line of sight through the window above the sink to where you’re laying out on the pool chair, the sight of you in your little skimpy bikini sent a little tingle down his spine. 

“Hey, baby” Joel calls out, shielding his eyes from the hot Texas sun. You turn and face him with a grin as he walks over to you. 

“Got something for you” Joel announces with a smile, holding out the peach to you. 

Your face lights up exactly how he imagined it would. But it’s a thousand times better in person. The way you smile so big that the corners of your eyes crinkle and the way your eyes  twinkle with amazement makes his heart swell in his chest. 

You scramble to sit up and take the fruit out of his hand. He strokes your hair then leans down to press a kiss to your forehead before sitting on the lounge chair next to yours. 

“Where’d you get these?” you ask, lifting up your sunglasses to get a proper look. “They look perfect” 

Joel laughs, trying not to puff out his chest in confidence. 

“That peach stand up the road is finally open” he answers. “Got a whole bag for you inside” 

Joel chuckles again at your  small squeal of excitement as you  shoot up from your seat and bounce over towards him. You stand between his spread knees and lean down to kiss him. 

His heart feels warm and gooey in his chest as he kisses you, his hands immediately finding the back of your thighs, your skin so warm from sitting out in the sun all day. 

He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, his head spinning a bit when he tastes your strawberry chapstick mixed with a hint of chlorine from the pool. His grip on your thighs tightens slightly and he sighs with delight when you part your lips and let him in, his heart melting when he feels you smile against his lips. 

He stays in the moment for a few more seconds before tapping your thigh and pulling back. 

“Try it. Wanna see if you like ‘em” he says before reaching for his beer sitting on the small side table. 

Joel’s heart skips a beat when you bite your lip and smile as you sit back down on your chair, facing him and crossing your legs underneath you. 

You sink your teeth into the reddish skin of the perfectly ripe peach. The sweet nectar immediately floods your mouth, so juicy that it quickly starts running past your lips to drip down your chin and over your fingers. You moan softly in delight, your eyelids fluttering shut at the taste. 

“It’s perfect” you say around a mouthful of peach. 

You take your time, savoring each bite. But to Joel it feels like you're on a mission to kill him on the spot. 

He has a death grip on his beer bottle as he watches you, groaning quietly when a few drops fall onto your bare legs. You, none the wiser, giggle innocently at the mess you’re making before taking another bite. More juice spills over your knuckles and trickles down your fingers to your wrist and forearm, the small rivulets twinkling on your skin in the sunlight. 

 Joel is about to pass out. 

He takes a few gulps of his beer, downing almost half the bottle in one go before setting it down on the small table between the two chairs. 

“C’mere, peaches” Joel says, patting his thigh. 

You happily oblige and get up to sit in his lap, your thighs on either side of his.

“You wanna bite?” you ask with a sweet smile. 

“Don’t need a bite, baby” Joel responds, reaching to grab your forearm. “Got my own right here.” 

He brings his lips to your wrist, pressing gentle kisses to your sticky skin and licking up the sweet juice. You giggle when the hairs of his mustache and scruffy beard tickle your skin, the sensation sending a a hot wave of arousal washing over you, head to toe. 

Your heart flutters in your chest as he kisses up your wrist to the back of your hand, placing a wet kiss to each of your knuckles before pulling back and opening his eyes to look at you again. 

A lopsided, dopey grin spreads across his face at the sight in front of him. You’re looking back at him through hooded eyes, the apples of your cheeks dusted pink as a dazed smile tugs at the corner of your red, wet lips. 

“Finish” Joel commands simply with a crooked smile. 

And you do. You go back to finishing the fruit while Joel’s gaze falls to your legs. He runs a thumb over the sticky drops of juice on your thigh, using his thumb to rub it into your warm skin with slow circles until the liquid dries up. He then switches to sliding his calloused palms up and down your thighs, his fingertips brushing the edges of your swim bottoms with every pass. 

Sitting in the sun all day already made your brain hazy and Joel’s dilated eyes boring into you aren’t exactly helping. Neither is his bulge twitching against your clothed core with every slurping and sucking sound you make as you let the juice run freely over your knuckles and down your chin, no longer caring about the mess. 

When you finish, Joel promptly plucks the pit out of your hand and sets it on the side table. He then turns back towards you and brings his thumb up to wipe up the drop of juice at the corner of your mouth. 

“Was it good, sweetheart?” he asks, sliding his thumb between your lips.

 Your eyelashes flutter as you immediately roll your tongue over his thumb, sucking the juice off before nodding slowly. You let him press down your tongue, his eyes wide and glued to your lips before you pull off his finger with a wet pop. 

“Delicious” you say with a sated smile. You lean forward, until your lips are inches away from his. “You wanna taste, daddy?” 

You giggle when he groans quietly underneath you.

“S’that even a question? ‘Course I do, peaches.” 

The next second, his hand is curling around the back of your neck as he pulls you down for a deep kiss. He doesn’t just get a taste. He devours you like a five-course meal, his tongue immediately licking into your mouth to chase the intoxicating taste of the fresh peach, chlorine, sun, sweat and you. This time, he bites at your lower lip and gently tugs, pulling a small whine from you. You tangle your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck and he  groans softly when you move your hips against his, dragging your aching core over the bulge in his jeans. 

“Gotta have you, baby” Joel mumbles against your lips, too desperate to pull away for even one second. “Need you right fuckin’ now.” 

“Out here?” you ask breathlessly, not bothering to pull away either. 

Joel doesn’t say anything. Instead, with his lips still on yours, he reaches between your bodies and tugs down on a cup of your bikini top until your breast falls out, letting you know that yes, he needs you right now, out here. 

“Daddy…” you say tentatively, finally pulling away from the kiss. He doesn't even bother looking up, completely ignoring  you as he tugs down the other cup. 

“Joel!” you gasp, the sound quickly followed by a giggle as you try to squirm out of his grasp, but the strong he has wrapped around your waist keeps you firmly in place. 

He wasn’t exaggerating. Not in the slightest.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby” Joel mumbles, his lips vibrating lightly against your skin. You move in his lap again, but this time you’re not trying to get away. He’s rock hard now, and you grind down harshly, already growing desperate  from his primal need for you. 

He moves to swirl his tongue over your nipple then brings up his hand to pinch the other one, groaning softly as you grind down on him with your fingers tightening in your grasp in the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck and holding his head against you. 

“Joel” you start, your voice already trembling. You’re just putty in this man’s hands. “W-what about the neighbors?” 

Joel was not a stupid man. Sure, he doesn’t - used to not - know much about the damn peaches, but he had at least been blessed with enough forethought to build a fence tall enough to make sure that the nosy neighbors wouldn’t be able to see you out here. 

He doesn’t look up, just mumbles against your skin “no one can see in, angel. Promise.” 

“I know but what about the sound?” you ask, still grinding your hips softly against his. 

Joel chuckles, warm air fanning over your chest before looking up at you. His fingers leave your breast and trail down the side of your rib cage, his feather light touch making you shiver before he unceremoniously slips his hand beneath the elastic of your swimsuit, cupping your pussy in his hand. The heel of his palm presses against your clit as his fingers press against your already dripping seam. 

“Doesn’t seem to be botherin’ you too much” he says softly, his lips curving in a grin.

You whine and tug on his hair, almost forgetting why you even stopped him in the first place. His eyes fall back down to where he’s cupping you, mesmerized by the way your hips move as you grind against his hand, your juices already leaking onto his palm. 

“Needy little thing, aint ya” 

You stop moving and glare at him.

“Says the man that nearly creamed his pants watching me eat a piece of fruit”

Joel just shrugs shamelessly with a carefree smile. 

“Do you wanna stop?” Joel asks, circling your aching hole with the pads of his two fingers before sliding them in slowly. He’s quick enough to swallow his own pathetic whimper when he feels you clench wildly around his fingers. “‘Cause I’ll stop right now and we ca-” 

“No.” you reply firmly, reflexively tugging on his hair. 

“That’s my girl” Joel smirks and curls his fingers to press right up against the spot that has you instantly moaning, the one that he never struggles to find.  “So good for me, huh?” 

You nod weakly, biting your lip to try and  stop some of the noise you’re making. 

He pumps his fingers in and out of you the best he can with the limited range of motion, obsessed with the soft sound tumbling past your lips. He dives back down to latch onto your nipple again, sucking and rolling his tongue over the hardened peak.

You grind down hard against his hand and your skin grows hotter under the summer sun, every inch of hot and buzzing. You move your hands from his hair, one curling around the back of his neck, the other grabbing onto his shoulder. His neck is damp with sweat under your palm and his black t-shirt feels like it’s about to catch on fire. 

“Off” you whine pathetically and pull at his shirt, now desperate to feel every inch of his skin. 

He ignores you at first, too busy switching to your other nipple and teasing it between his teeth, too absorbed in the feeling of your slick running down his fingers and into his palm like warm honey. But yanking on his hair brings his attention back to you. 

“So impatient” Joel mumbles, sliding his fingers out of you and his hand out of your swimsuit before snapping the elastic against your hip. You watch with wide eyes as he sticks two wet fingers in his mouth letting out a soft groan while his eyelids futter slightly at the taste. 

He then pulls the fingers out of his and looks up at you. But you're looking somewhere else. You’re eyes are still glued to his fingers, now shiny with a mixture of your slick and his saliva. He follows your gaze and wiggles his fingers slightly. 

“Does my baby want a taste?” Joel asks with a smirk. 

You nod your fervently nod your head and whine a pathetic “please” 

“Can’t so no when you ask so nicely, sweetheart” 

He brings his wet fingers up your lips and you don’t miss a beat, immediately wrapping your lips around his two digits and sucking hard. The two of you sigh in unison, Joel pushing down on your tongue as you roll your tongue around, cleaning up the mess as best you can. 

His jaw is slack and  hanging open as he watches you in amazement. He slides his fingers back a little further, grunting when you start gagging slightly. 

“Such a pretty sound” Joel whispers. He shoves his fingers further back, eyebrows pinched together in concentration. You gag again, harder this time, drool now leaking past your lips and his fingers. His cock pulses in his jeans so hard that it nearly hurts. 

“Baby” he starts, pressing down particularly hard on your tongue, moaning quietly as your mouth floods with more saliva. He then hooks his fingers over your bottom teeth and tugs down, forcing your mouth open. He stares at your wet lips with eyes hooded before talking again. “Daddy needs you, sweetheart”

You moan softly and slide off his fingers. 

“How d’ya want me?” you ask innocently

“Take these off,” Joel says, thumbing at the waistband of your swimsuit. “Then lie down for me babydoll” 

You whimper softly, and move off his lap to stand up, fully untying your bikini top and shimmying out of your bottoms. Your eyes are glued to Joel the whole time though, watching hungirly as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing the vast expanse of his back. He unbuckles his belts and unzips his jeans, pulling them down his thighs just enough to get his cock out. 

You do as you’re told, propping yourself up against the back of the chair with your legs stretched out in front of you. Joel wastes no time getting settled on his stomach between your legs, spreading your thighs apart to reveal your glistening cunt to the summer sun.

“God, baby” Joel sighs at the sight, his warm breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He brings a hand up and uses two fingers to spread your lips to see your hole clenching around thin air.  “So fuckin’ wet for me.”

You whimper softly and gently roll your hips up, chasing after his touch. Joel looks up at you and smirks as he prods at your entrance with his finger tips. JJoel shushes you and presses a kiss to the space just below your navel, then kisses a trail over to your hip and down the top of your thigh. He kisses the tacky  spot on your thigh, kitten-licking at the sugary spot of dried juice. Then he slides a hand under your thigh, lifting your leg up and over your shoulder before wrapping his arm over the top, effectively locking your thigh in place. 

Your hands find their natural resting spot in his hair, fingers tangling in the brown curls that are burning hot from the sun. He’s making progress towards where you need him most, placing hot, wet kisses on your inner thigh, pausing frequently to nibble and suck at the delicate skin. You can already see the smug look on his face he’ll have when he finds the little marks and bruises in the morning. 

With no warning, his mouth is on you, his tongue delving into your slick folds, hungrily lapping at your aching cunt.  Joel absolutely devours you, his face buried between your legs, so eager to taste you, to drink you down and make you scream. 

You reflexively try to buck your hips, but the arm he has wrapped around your thigh keeps you down, his fingertips digging into your skin as he holds you right where he wants you. His cock twitches where it’s pressed against the chair when he feels your thighs tremble against his face and then again when you pull on his hair, sending tingles from his scalp down to his toes. 

His tongue teases your leaking hole, your walls clenching desperately as he dips his tongue in and out before moving to your clit. He sucks the swollen nub between his lips, swirling his tongue around it, waiting until you let out a whine or moan before moving back to your hole to repeat the process. It’s like he’s starving and you’re the first thing he’s tasted in days. 

Lewd, wet noises of Joel slurping you down like you’re his last drink ever create a mirror image of the sounds you made while eating the peach only five minutes ago. The sounds mix with your moans and high-pitched whines,  Any and all reservations you had about the neighbors hearing you completely gone.  

 Just from the way he’s eating you out, greedily taking everything you give him, tells you how much he needed you. It’s so passionate and raw that it makes your head spin. You can hear your blood roaring in your ears as your skin feels raw and electrified like an exposed wire as a heat start pool in your lower abdomen. And you’re guessing by how your slick is dripping down your thighs already that he can tell how much you need him. 

It doesn’t take long until you’re teetering on the edge of release, your chest heaving with every gulp of air. Joel notices how your moans are getting louder and more frequent, so he slides the hand that’s not wrapped around your thigh down to your entrance and slowly pushes two fingers inside of you. 

He smiles against you when you reward him with a long loud moan with your walls clenching tightly around his fingers. He keeps a steady rhythm, slowly pushing his fingers in and out of you, a direct contrast to the ravenous pace of his tongue. The sounds he’s pulling out of you go straight to his cock, but he barely registers the building pressure, too focused on taking care of you to think about himself for even one second. 

You cry out when he hooks his fingers inside of you, curling them so they perfectly nudge against your g-spot every single time he pushes in. Your back arches away from the chair and you start rolling your hips against his face, holding his head in place as you do so. 

“Give it to me, angel” Joel murmurs into you, the vibrations and his warm breath adding to the pleasure that’s quickly building up. “Wanna feel you cum ‘round my fingers. Wanna taste it, baby” 

Your heart is pounding in your chest and you’re so hot, almost every square inch of your skin damp with sweat and you can’t tell if it’s more from the heat or what this man is doing to you, probably just an intoxicating mixture of both. You look down at him to find that he’s already staring up at you, watching you intently with hooded eyes as you start to fall apart. 

Your gaze drifts to his back, and you can’t help but gawk at the muscles flexing smoothly under his tan skin that’s gleaming with sweat. The sight alone causes the pressure to build even more and Joel groans when your legs start trembling on either side of his head. He doubles down on his effort, his tongue flicking wildly at your clit as he presses his fingertips harshly against your spot that has you seeing stars. He lays the palm of his free hand on the space just below your navel and presses down, adding sudden, intense external pressure that makes you cry out loud. 

“Oh fuck daddy I - shit  I’m gon-”

You can’t even finish the sentence before you’re flying off the edge, hips lifting off the chair as you shove his face even further against your core. Sounds of pleasure flow freely from your lips as you grind against his face, the stubble of his beard rubbing your sweaty inner thighs raw. Joel watches you the whole time as your slick gushes out of your hole and onto his chin and around his fingers. 

He works you through it, grunting and moaning while keeping his mouth glued to you, following you as you writhe underneath him. He doesn’t let up until you’re whimpering and squirming away from the overstimulation. 

“Goddam, baby” Joel rasps, his voice thick with his smooth southern drawl. He presses a gentle kiss to your hypersensitive clit and whispers “sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Could give that farmer and his peaches a run for their money” 

You giggle breathlessly. Your limbs are relaxed and heavy as you melt against the chair while Joel moves so that he’s kneeling between your legs. He  takes advantage of how soft and pliant you are, easily manhandling you to flip over and put your ass up in the air with the side of your  face pressed against the chair cushion. 

He palms at your ass and grips handfuls of both cheeks before spreading you open so you’re on full display for him. He groans quietly seeing your hole clench around thin air, a thin string of your slick dripping from your lips. 

“So beautiful, baby” Joel mumbles, dragging a single finger through the mess between your legs. You whine at the praise and wiggle your hips, your way of asking him to get on with it already. 

“S’okay, baby” Joel soothes, rubbing a palm over the curve of your ass. “Gonna give you what you want” 

Joel gathers the spit in his mouth before leaning over a bit and letting it drip down to where he has you spread open. He groans softly, watching the warm liquid land on your asshole and slide down to pool at your leaking entrance. You obviously don’t need any extra lubrication but Joel’s obsession with claiming you as his and getting you all messy like this is no secret. 

You both moan when he nestles his cock between your cheeks, sighing heavily as he rocks his hips and gently glides his cock through the wetness. 

“This what you want, sweetheart?” Joel teases, notching his tip at your entrance. “Or should I fuck this tight little hole? Haven’t played back here in awhile”

Your high-pitched whines turn  into desperate moans when he spits again and spreads it over the tight ring of muscle with the pad of his thumb. You make another pathetic noise and push your hips back again. 

“You’d take anything I gave you wouldn’t you, angel?” Joel coos, pressing his thumb past the tight ring of muscle. “Could take your sweet pussy or tight little ass whenever I want and you’d just be so grateful, huh baby?” 

“Yes daddy just– please I just need you inside me” 

Joel hums approvingly. 

“Yeah I know you would, baby” Joel sighs, watching your tight hole swallow the tip of his thumb with stars in his eyes. “Always so desperate for me to fill you up and stuff you full of my cock, isn’t that right?” 

You whine in frustration as Joel slides his cock through your folds again, rubbing the warm, swollen head of his cock against your clit. 

“Please, daddy. Please please I want it so bad fuck me pl-” 

You cut yourself off with a wanton moan when Joel fully sheathes himself inside your aching cunt in one swift, sudden movement. 

“Sound so pretty when you beg like that” Joel chokes out, his fingertips digging into the meat of your hips as he wills himself to stay still while you adjust to his size. 

It’s hard though, especially with your dripping walls spasming around his cock and your asshole squeezing his thumb. 

“Jesus honey” Joel groans as he pulls your hips back onto him just to get a little bit deeper. His cock pulses inside of you when you whine his name and clench wildly around him. “Feel so fuckin’ good squeezin’ me like that” 

“Move” you groan. “God daddy please move” 

You don’t have to tell him twice. 

Immediately he pulls out just until his tip catches on your entrance before slamming back inside. You cry out at the sudden, intense force, your hands scrambling and searching for purchase on the fabric of the chair. You try to crawl up on your forearms, but his strong hand between your shoulder blades forces you back down, your cheek smushed against the chair. 

Joel growls from behind you as he quickly works up to a devastating pace. His eyes flit back and forth from your face, screwed up in pleasure, to where he’s pounding into you, both of your holes raw and stretched out around his cock and his thumb. 

“Fuck you take it so well, baby” Joel grunts, his hand landing harshly on your ass. “Such a good girl, takin’ everything I give you” 

He leans over, his palm sliding from between your shoulders to the back of your neck. The position pushes him even further inside of you, his tip pressing against your cervix with every stroke. 

“Nghh fuck daddy, you’re so deep!” you cry, gasping wetly while his fingers splay over the front of your throat. 

“Fuck yeah I am” Joel growls, his thumb now pressing firmly against the side of your neck, his fingertips squeezing the other side. “This cock was made to fuck you, sweet girl” 

He gradually increases the pressure on your throat, his cock pulsating when you clench down on him as he slowly constricts the blood flow to your brain. There’s not a single worry in your head. The hand around your throat is a reminder of his dominance over you but also serves as a symbol of the trust between the two of you. It’s almost a silent way of saying “let go, I’ve got you” 

And you do let go.

You moan uncontrollably as he continues to pound into you, your head quickly growing light and fuzzy.  His fucking you with no reservations, making every inch of you skin tingle with pleasure. But you can’t resist the temptation to push your hips back, meeting his thrusts halfway. And judging from the sound of Joel’s moan, you know that was the right choice. 

“Oh god, that’s it, sweetheart. Lemme see you fuck yourself on my cock” 

You follow his orders, the muscles in your thighs and hips already burning from the sheer amount of effort you're exerting. Your mouth hangs open, drool leaking out onto the white fabric of the cushion as you whimper and whine while for him. He watches, completely focused on the way your body moves for him, panting heavily with his thumb still stuck in your ass. 

“Better be quiet, angel,” Joel warns through clenched teeth. “Unless you want them to hear.” 

He hisses when you clamp down around him and thrust your hips back, forcing his length deep inside of you. Joel chuckles breathlessly and leans down until his face is inches away from yours, his grip lightening up on your throat. “Oh you like that idea, don’t you?” 

You try to open your mouth and say something, but he starts squeezing your throat again, laughing darkly when your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“Dirty fucking girl” Joel whispers roughly, snapping his hips harder against yours if even possible at this point. He wiggles his thumb in your ass for good measure. “Wants the whole neighborhood to hear how well her daddy fucks her, huh baby?” 

The sound of it all is obscene, your moans,  the rhythmic slap of his pelvis against your ass, and the squelching of your dripping cunt as he fucks you senseless. For a brief second, your mind wanders to all the women in the neighborhood, so indiscreet with the way that they ogle at Joel at all the neighborhood cook-outs and bonfires and you think to yourself: yeah, they can fucking listen. 

Joel places a wet kiss to the nape of your neck before straightening up again. His hand abruptly leaves your throat, leaving you gasping and whining at the loss. 

“God you’re such a fuckin’ slut for it” Joel rasps, his hand gripping your hip again. 

Your head feels thick and stuffy, thoughts floating around like syrup in your brain. The only thing you can think about is Joel’s cock driving in and out of you, dragging so deliciously against your g-spot while he keeps his thumb firmly in your tight asshole.

He uses two fingers from his free hand to prod at where he’s splitting you open, gathering some of your slick and dragging it up to your clit. He groans at the heavenly sounds that start falling from your lips as he rubs quick circles over the sensitive nub. 

You’re an absolute mess at this point, completely at his mercy as he pounds into you. Your hips jerk involuntarily against him as he continues to rub your clit ferociously, making you writhe underneath him. His touch only adds to your pleasure, pure bliss engulfing all of your senses. 

“Please daddy” you whine, your words slurring together. “Please I wanna cum” 

“I know, baby. Can feel you clenchin’ around me'' Joel coos. “S’okay sweetheart, I want it. Soak my fuckin’ cock with it” 

Your whole body tenses as you reach your release, your walls grip him so impossibly tight as he fucks you through it, his fingers on your clit not slowing for even a second

“That’s it, baby.” Joel praises as you shake underneath him, the sounds you're making, has his cock throbbing inside of you, his eyes rolling back at how tightly you squeeze his cock and his thumb. “Always so fuckin’ tight when you cum on me. So fuckin’ tight” 

He’s not far behind you, the way your body reacts to him driving him absolutely wild. His fingers move from your clit to grip your hip and he slams into you with a newfound strength, chasing after his own release. 

“Fuck, honey you’re gonna make me cum” he grunts, his eyes glued to your holes fluttering around him. 

“Yes, daddy please cum” you manage to whine desperately, eager to have him fuck you full of his cum until it’s dripping out of you. 

Your begging sends him over the edge and his pace falters then stops completely. The sounds of his loud moans as he spills inside of you sends a pleasant wave of warmth down your spine. It feels so divine, the way he throbs inside of you as he shoots rope after rope cum deep inside of you. 

He stays there for a few moments, buried deep inside you while he catches his breath. Once his breathing evens out, he gingerly removes his thumb from your ass, his cock twitching pathetically at the way your tight hole grips onto him as he pulls it out. He then slides his cock out and collapses on top of you, careful not to completely crush you. 

He’s burning hot, his sweaty skin sticking to your eyes as the sunshine beats down relentlessly on the two of you. But you don’t give single fuck. He rests his cheek between your shoulder blades, his scruff tickling the sensitive skin. 

“You’re so good, sweetheart.” Joel whispers, his breath fanning over the back of shoulder. 

You hum happily in response, too blissed out to say much else. You lay there for a few more minutes until the sun makes things unbearably hot. Joel then moves to stand up and shimmies out of the jeans that he never fully took off. 

You turn your head to look at him, using your hand to shield your eye from the sun. 

“You’re puttin’ a lot of faith in that fence” you chuckle, eyes shamelessly raking up and down his naked body. 

Joel laughs out loud and tosses his jeans on the chair. 

“Baby” he starts, reaching down to roll you over onto your back. “You know the only reason I agreed to building that fence and this goddamn pool in the first place is because I want to see you naked inside of it” 

You have no time to react before he’s scooping you up in his arms. 

“Joel Miller! Put me down!” you shout between giggles as he carries you over to the edge of the pool. 

“It’d be my honor” he says before dropping you into the water. 

The cool water is a shock to your fucked out system, but it’s such a relief from the heat. And if anyone else did that, you’d be fucking livid. Anyone else. But it’s Joel. And the way that he jumps in after you and then wraps his arms around you as he giggles in your ear makes you absolutely melt, just like it always does. 

Thank god for peach season. 

Thank you for reading I love you guys sm :')))