#[ the firefighter — desire ]

[honeyedmiller]

A Burning Desire part five

firefighter!joel miller x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist

rating: 18+, minors dni

warnings: joel miller au, explicit content (smut– unprotected piv, oral [m & f receiving], fingering), lots and lots of (unsaid) feelings, angst (had to do it to ‘em one time [for the plot]), no use of y/n.

word count: 9.1k

synopsis: after spending an incredible weekend with joel, you finally realize how you truly feel about him—but with those feelings comes an ever-dreaded skepticism, which has you teetering on the edge of telling him or not.

​​​​​​There’s something about waking up in the arms of someone you really like.

And then there’s something about waking up in the arms of someone you love. 

It’s a warm feeling; something that’s nearly indescribable as the butterflies rumble deep in your belly. It feels like silent devotion, being wrapped in strong arms with a warm chest pressed tightly against your bare back. 

You didn’t think you’d ever get to experience this feeling again—but this time, certainty wraps securely around your heart and you feel so safe. You feel at ease. You feel like this is where you’re meant to be. 

And hell, it really is. You’re finally letting your walls crumble, torn down brick-by-brick by the very man whose heart beats steadily against your back. 

You’re in love with Joel Miller. 

Your gaze flicks to the digital clock on your nightstand. It was early, but you were buzzing with too much anticipation and need to even think about going back to sleep. Ever so slowly, you rotate your body in his arms so you’re face-to-face with the beautiful man, trying your best not to wake him from his deep slumber. You admire his features like this; he’s so relaxed and at peace. The usual crease between his brows when he’s deep in thought or being stern about something is nearly nonexistent. You lean your head up and kiss him softly in that area, moving to the crook of his nose next. 

His eyes twitch in the slightest, but besides that he’s like a log next to you, so you continue the featherlight assault of your lips on his warm skin: his cheek, the corner of his mouth, his forehead, and finally, his lips. 

His body slowly wakes before his mind does, and you can feel his hard-on against your thigh. You softly giggle to yourself and admire that he’s so receptive to your touch and kisses even while he’s still nearly fully asleep. 

You wanted nothing more than to wake him with your mouth taking his cock, but you haven’t crossed that threshold yet, nor has it been discussed between the two of you. So, you opt for continuously kissing his bare skin, moving down to his sturdy chest that’s dusted with a patch of hair. 

He groans softly, body twitching now as he slowly peels his eyes open. You rest your chin on his sternum as his beautiful brown eyes land on you, taking in the sight before him. 

“Good morning, cowboy,” you say, tracing light patterns on his pec with the tip of your index finger. 

“Mmm,” he hums, “Mornin’ sweetheart. What time is it?” 

He rubs his palms into his eyes, trying his hardest to fully wake himself up. 

“Eight. Breakfast with the newlyweds is at ten,” you explain, grateful in this moment that your sister loves to sleep in when she can. 

“Good. Means we can stay in bed a little longer,” he muses sleepily, head lolling back onto the plush pillows. 

“Mmmhmmmm,” you exaggerate your hum, still tracing patterns on his chest. 

He quirks an eyebrow at you, a smirk forming on his lips as if he can already sense what you want to do. 

“Also gives me more time to love on you,” he says, tilting your chin up so your lips can meet his. 

You gaze at him longingly, pressing another kiss to his chest—right over the strong beat of his heart. 

“It’s my turn to love on you, cowboy,” you say. You don’t offer an explanation, but you begin to trail featherlight kisses down his chest and torso, moving your body down the mattress. You stop just above his navel, looking up at him with a daring glint in your eye. 

He reaches down to cradle your cheek in his palm, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin lovingly. 

“You don’t have to, baby,” his voice is soft, but with the way his cock looks right now—all veiny and hard with pre come leaking from the tip—you were nearly salivating. You wanted to ravish this man head-to-toe, starting with this. 

“But I want to,” you simply say, shuffling down a little further. Joel deserves to feel the same pleasure he laid upon you just hours prior. 

Something of a soft groan escapes his throat, and that only makes this carnal need, a desire in you, that much stronger to please him. 

You gently grab his pulsing, silky flesh before giving it a couple of strokes. A sigh evades Joel’s lips, brows threading together before tossing his arm over his eyes, breathing becoming ragged. 

You lean forward now, swirling your tongue around the tip before sucking on it gently. Joel inhales sharply, obviously trying to keep himself in control, but this is a battle you both know he wouldn’t win. 

Your mouth is so soft and warm as you work around him, taking him in deeper. You keep a steady pace with the hand that’s stroking the rest of him that isn’t in your mouth, and you can’t help but lick the full underside of his cock. 

“Holy shit, baby—” Joel breathily moans, and you decide to take things a step further by dragging your tongue down even further, paying special attention to his balls. Joel’s body jolts at the sensation, and the most guttural growl evades his chest and reverberates off of the hotel room walls.

You might be enjoying this too much as you lap him up, stroking his cock in tandem with the movements of your tongue. You finally let up on him, moving your mouth back to the heavy, silky flesh that pulsates in the palm of your hand. 

You kiss his tip one more time before taking him as far down as you can, swallowing around him. You set a final steady pace then, bobbing your head up and down on him while using your hand once more to stroke what your mouth can’t reach. 

You can’t help but close your eyes in bliss and relish every pass you make, knowing you get to be the one to make him feel good. You get to see him like this—bed head, stuttered breath, naked body, quivering under your touch and sweet mouth. It really couldn’t get any better than this, you think. 

And you realize, you really are in love with this man. Every single inch of him, inside and out. A warm feeling wraps around your heart and squeezes, butterflies rumbling in your tummy for the millionth time. There really is no man like him, and you often think to yourself how lucky you are that he accepted your advances at the coffee shop. 

“Fuck, darlin’, right there, right there,” he’s panting now, and you can’t help but open your eyes and enjoy the way the sun shines on his chest. His skin is coated with a sheen of sweat, making him glisten in such an ethereal way. Even the top of his brow is perspiring, despite the temperature in the room to be fairly chilly. One of your hands lands gently onto his thigh, lightly scratching his hot skin with your nails. 

A groan rumbles from his chest once again, and it makes the pulsing between your legs ten times worse. You moan around him, dragging your hand that’s on his thigh down until it’s between your legs, fingers collecting your own slick before you begin to gently rub your clit. 

You gasp at the sensation, not expecting to be nearly as sensitive as you are, and Joel’s head snaps up when he hears how wet you are. You don’t relent on him, though. You take him deeper into your mouth, trying your best to swallow around him as your other free hand massages his balls. 

“Wh-What are you doin’?” His voice is desperate, strained and gravelly, and he can barely keep his eyes open at this point. He’s a mess in the most delicious way possible, and you hum around him, pleased with what you see. 

Your hand is doing a half-assed job as trying to pleasure your own self. You know damn well Joel’s mouth or fingers would please you ten times more—hell, especially his cock. He proved that to you last night, and he had plans in mind to do it once again. 

Joel’s body goes rigid and your hand leaves its position between your thighs, and you place it back on his own. He doesn’t hesitate to grab your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours while he’s frantically mumbling under his breath, clearly desperate for release. 

You don’t break eye contact with him now as you only move your mouth to his tip, swirling your tongue deviously slow around him. Joel twitches and it’s like his body can’t help it—he comes on the spot. No warning or anything, but you take everything that he gives you onto your tongue graciously before swallowing. 

You let up on him, giving his tip one more kiss. His body shivers at the sensation, and you continue to kiss his thighs, up to his torso, chest, neck, and cheek. 

He’s still trying to steady his breathing while he grips your thighs so you’re straddling him, and it takes everything in you not to drag your needy, dripping cunt onto his length. You want to moan just at the thought of it, but you’re holding on to the last bit of self control you have, which really isn’t much. 

“Hi,” you say, and you can’t help but smirk down at him. 

“Didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth, sweetheart,” Joel’s heart rate is slowly steadying itself, but the sight of you on top of him like this isn’t helping much. 

You think the poor man might need to get his blood pressure checked soon. 

“Well, now you know,” you shrug, and he can’t help but chuckle and roll his eyes. His gaze settles on your face, and his hand moves up to cradle your cheek. You nestle your cheek into the warm touch of his palm and watch him watching you, eyes heady. 

Your body is still buzzing with arousal, but you really didn’t want to ruin this moment with Joel. It seems as though he had other plans when his hand starts to trail down your body—the side of your neck, featherlight brushes over your collarbone, down your sternum, and your torso. 

He stops short above your pulsing clit. He can physically see your arousal coating the inside of your thighs and feel your body trembling in the slightest. 

“Oh, my poor baby,” he coos, “Now she’s all wet n’ needy for me, hm?” 

You don’t say anything. You watch him steadily, and your heart was beating so fucking hard in both places that you wouldn’t be surprised if he could feel it. 

His fingertips graze through the wiry hairs above where you need him most, and you’re not above begging him to touch you at this point. 

You need him.

Joel shifts his hips upwards, which causes his cock to brush against your cunt. You whine lowly, eyes falling shut as your eyebrows thread together in desperation. 

“Joel,” you breathe, and he shifts again. You’re so close to grinding yourself down on him, but he has other plans. He shifts your bodies so you’re now the desperate mess laying underneath him, and he’s tempted to just take you on the bed there, you think. 

But he doesn’t. He looks down between your thighs, admiring your glistening, puffy cunt before leaning down to give you a searing kiss. You card your fingers through his hair instinctually, tugging on the ends of it. 

Before things could escalate further, he separates himself from you and gets up from the bed. 

You genuinely feel like you could cry from the subtle teasing and lack of attention to your achy core. Joel offers his hand out for you to take, and you grab it hesitantly before he drags you up and out of bed. 

“What are you doing?” You echo his words from earlier, confused as to what he had in mind. He doesn’t say anything at first—just leads you into the big bathroom, opening the glass shower door. The floor was full of dark pebble stones which contrasted against the white walls, but it gave the shower a spa feel, especially with the built-in bench in the corner. 

Joel turns the shower on and grabs your waist, walking you backwards into the shower with him. The shower door snaps shut, and he’s on you. He’s kissing you with this hunger you’ve never felt before, so intense that it nearly knocks the wind out of you. 

You fist at his now semi-wet curls, pressing your body airtight to his. He moans into your mouth and his hands slide down to your ass, giving it a generous squeeze. You yelp in surprise and try to pull back, but he doesn’t allow it. One of his forearms is wrapped tightly around your torso while the other is against the shower wall. You’d probably fall if he wasn’t balancing you so well.

You felt weak in the knees, so enraptured by him. Every single cell in your body was screaming for his expert touch, for him to make you feel so good that you’d be thinking about this moment for weeks after. 

He pushes you gently against the tiled wall, the coolness sending a shiver down your spine. His free hand snakes down your body, making sure to feel every single curve, scar, and dimple your body has to offer. He was silently praising you and if he wasn’t kissing you so ferociously at the moment, you’d be overwhelmed with emotions. 

His hand eventually made its way to your torso, down down down until finally it’s where you need him most. You gasp into his mouth as his thick fingers slide through your slit generously, rubbing your clit slowly. 

Your head falls back against the wall, lungs burning from lack of air. You didn’t care though, you were already seeing stars just by enjoying the intimacy of simply making out with Joel. 

“So damn beautiful,” Joel murmurs, looking at you with a dark gleam in his eye. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so ravenous for you. Just that very look makes your slick arousal stick between your thighs, wanting nothing more than to be devoured by him. 

Your lips part and you try to say something, but your brain is all mush and your limbs are shaking with need. His lips travel from your jaw to your jugular, giving your skin a little nibble before proceeding down to your collarbone and down to your breasts. 

He takes his time enveloping each pert bud into his mouth, toying with the other as he rolls it between his fingers. 

Your breathy moans are all that can be heard besides the water hitting the pebbled floor. You grab onto the back of his head, chest heaving as he gets down on his knees. He’s staring up at you like you’re the most divine thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. 

It makes heat rush to your face and you look away from the intensity of his gaze for a second. He grips your thighs, spreading your legs apart before shaking his head. 

“Keep those pretty eyes on me, baby,” he says, voice gravelly with an undertone of desperation. 

You bite your lip as you stare down at him, and he starts to leave a trail of kisses on your inner thighs. You brush his curls away from his face and give him a sweet smile, indulging in this little tender moment. 

He separates from you for a second before giving you a wicked grin, the once tender moment fizzling into pure carnal desire. 

“Don’t you hold back on me now, you hear me? I wanna hear those pretty sounds comin’ from my woman,” he says, and before you can respond, he dives his face right in between your thighs. 

His tongue laps up all of the slick that’d gushed from you, moaning into you at the taste of your arousal. 

You gasp and cry out his name, legs already trembling terribly. 

If someone told you a year ago that a man would have so much of an effect on you like this, you would’ve laughed in their face. You didn’t even think it was possible to feel like this, but Joel has done nothing but prove you wrong time and time again in the best way possible. 

“Fuck—oh, god,” you cry, feeling his tongue circle your clit before sucking on it profusely. A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest before he tears himself away from you, spinning you around so you’re now facing the wall. 

You don’t even have time to process what was going on until you felt his tongue on you again, but this time he prods the muscle into you and begins to fuck you with it. 

You whine loudly while clawing at the smooth surface of the tile, desperate to hold on to something. Joel pulls his tongue away from you before his hands slide up the back of your thighs to knead the plump flesh of your ass. 

“Anyone ever touch you back here?” Joel’s question takes you by surprise. You nearly choke on your breath, but you shake your head with a faint response. 

“No,” you say, and he hums. 

“Can I?” 

You try to clench your legs together at that, but his hands on you are too strong and prevent you from doing so.

“Please.” 

He doesn’t say anything else. He leans in again, licking your core before moving his tongue up to where nobody has ever touched you. You choke on a gasp when his tongue circles the tight ring, and you nearly fall to your knees. 

Christ, this man was going to be the end of you. 

He kept steady for a while, licking you up like you were the most delicious thing he’s tasted. One of his hands slid up your inner thigh once again, but this time, it was to insert two of his fingers into you. 

You’re a moaning, writhing mess above him and you’re slumped against the wall, rocking back onto his fingers and tongue. You feel the delicious warmth blooming in your belly, impending release coiling tighter by the second. 

You reach behind you and curl your fingers through Joel’s locks, tugging on them. You let out a lewd moan as the groan that evades him vibrates your whole body. You look down, only to see him pumping his semi-hard cock. Just the sight of that alone nearly sends you over the edge. 

“Joel, fuck, please—” 

“C’mon baby, give it t’me. Wanna taste you coming on my tongue.” 

And as if on command, your body gives in to his wishes. Your orgasm is forceful, ripping you apart at the seams as you scream his name. You really, really hope these walls are mostly soundproof. 

He drags you up with him before you nearly collapse from weak legs, and he situates you on his lap as he sits down on the bench. You’re gasping still, face buried in his neck as he rubs your back gently. 

“Jesus Joel, I really think you’re trying to kill me,” you huff, and you feel his shoulders shake from laughter. 

“Kill you? Never, baby. Jus’ wanna give my girl the pleasure she deserves,” he kisses your temple before you pull back to look at him, eyes all glossy and hooded. 

“Well she,” you pause to drag your fingertips over his warm, wet chest, “is one lucky woman.” 

“Mmm, is she now?” Joel’s tone is teasing and playful, and he scoots your body forward so you’re skin-to-skin once more. 

“Absolutely. You see the way those women were staring at you last night, knowing that you wouldn’t be going home with them, but with me instead?” You bring your face closer to his neck, giving his pulse point a few slow kisses. His hands move down to your hips, giving them a firm squeeze. 

“I take pride in getting to call you my man, Mr. Miller,” you lick his neck, slowly trailing your tongue up until your lips reach his ear. You reach down between you both, palming his rock hard cock before sliding the tip through your slick folds, notching his tip at your entrance. “All. Mine.”

You sink down onto him, both of you moaning in tandem before catching his lips in yet another searing kiss. 

He pulls apart from you for a second, sliding his hands down to your ass. 

“Wasn’t payin’ attention to any ‘a those other women, baby. My eyes are for you and you only.” 

The subtle possessiveness you two harbored for each other sent a thrill down your spine. 

“Ditto,” you say, starting to rock your hips. Joel moans your name as his head knocks back against the wall, eyes closing in pure bliss. You lean forward and kiss his neck, keeping a steady pace. 

“Fuck, baby. You really know how to drive a man crazy,” Joel’s breathless again, and you can’t help but giggle softly. 

“Hopefully the good kind,” you nibble on his neck before separating from him, throwing your arms around his shoulders. 

“Definitely the good kind,” he says, leaning in to kiss you again. This time it’s a bit more gentle, and once again, Joel reigns supreme at showing his heart on his sleeve just by how he kisses you. 

I love you, Joel rolls around in your mind several times—so much so that you thought you’d slip and say it aloud. 

Your thoughts are wrangled back to reality when you feel him separate his lips from yours, but staying close enough to kiss you again if he wants to. You begin to pick up your pace now and the feeling of him filling you is heavenly. Your eyes roll back and your jaw is slack, and he takes the opportunity to move you up and down on him. 

You cry out his name again, head lolling back as he sets a brutal pace and fucks up into you. 

“So fuckin’ pretty on my cock like this, baby. So fuckin’ tight,” Joel wraps his hand around the back of your neck, looking into your eyes as he continues to rock his hips. You’re moving to his rhythm, matching his pace—and the look he’s giving you makes you pulse around his cock. 

“You’re so handsome,” you say, reaching a hand out to cup his cheek. And before he can deny your compliment, you kiss him like your life depends on it. It’s not long before you feel the familiar warmth coil in your belly once more. 

“‘M getting close, Joel,” you cry against his lips, and he gives your ass a small love tap. 

“Me too, sweetheart.” 

Both of you were moaning rather lewdly, and at this moment, all that was on your mind was Joel. Not your sister and Josh or your family that’s probably already halfway done getting ready for breakfast—no, just Joel. 

Joel Joel Joel. 

The man was intoxicating and you were chasing the high every chance you got. 

“Fuck, where do you want me? I-I’m about to–”

“In me. Joel, please, in me,” you beg, and he suddenly plunges his hand down between your bodies to rub at your already sensitive clit furiously. 

Within seconds, your second earth-shattering orgasm of the day had you in shambles once again, screaming out his name as he pistoned in and out of you to chase his own high. 

His hips stilled moments later as he came, burying his face into your neck as he groaned with every pulse of his cock. 

Your bodies stayed stagnant for a while, wrapped up in each other as the warm water cascaded overhead. You were both pruny and absolutely fucked out, void of energy, but being so close to him like this made your heart flutter in the best way possible. 

Joel repeatedly kissed the junction between your neck and shoulder, rubbing your back soothingly as you two caught your breaths. He pulled back, looking into your eyes once again with a satiated grin adorning his lips. 

“How you feelin’ angel?” He asks, wiping the water droplets from your cheek. 

“Incredible, cowboy,” you giggle, pecking his lips before shifting your hips to get off of him. Your legs were still shaky, but you managed to stand slowly. Joel watches as his spend drips from you, sliding down your inner thighs. He grabs your hand, prompting you to step closer to him. He reaches his hand between your thighs, gathering his spend on his fingers before standing up to his full height, a glint of mischief in his pretty brown eyes. 

He brings his coated fingers to your mouth and you happily oblige, sucking his fingers clean with a soft moan. 

Your eyes snap open as he removes his fingers from your mouth, and you raise your eyebrow. “No more messing around, Mr. Miller. We have a newlyweds breakfast to get ready for.”

”If I had it my way, I’d keep you in this room all day and show you every single way your beautiful body can be worshiped,” he doesn’t miss a beat in his words, confidence exuding him brilliantly. 

You clench your legs together and fight the urge to hop out of the shower to give your sister a courtesy call and tell her you and Joel won’t be making it to breakfast, but the little bit of self control you harbored won the morality battle. 

“As much as I’d absolutely love to do that, we really do have to go. My family would never let me live it down and I want to see Emily off before her and Josh leave for their honeymoon.” 

“I know, baby. ‘M hopin’ we get more opportunities for this when we get back home,” he says, running a hand over his mustache and down his stubble. 

“You can have me anytime you want, cowboy.” 

-

You were surprisingly only twenty minutes late to breakfast. You and Joel made it down to the lobby, freshly showered and dressed nicely. He wore a black button down with the top two buttons undone, gray slacks, and black boots. You opted for something a bit more colorful, wearing a baby blue satin dress with white kitten heels. 

You held onto Joel’s bicep for support, and despite the heels only being a half inch, your legs were still a bit wobbly—and not because you couldn’t walk in heels. 

Joel nearly doubled down in laughter when he saw you trying to walk once you put the heels on, which earned him a glare and pouty lips. He kissed you anyway and told you how beautiful you look, pulling you in to his broad, warm body before promising to make his teasing up to you. 

Your teasing is what got me here in the first place, you’d chastised him. 

You found your mom and dad sitting outside at a long table with floral arrangements in the middle. Your dad’s plate was stacked with an assortment of breakfast foods, while your mom opted for an omelet and a croissant with coffee. 

“Good morning you two,” your mom chirped, her smile beaming at you and Joel. 

“Morning mama. Where’s everyone else…?” You ask, eyes drifting to the empty seats beside them.  

“Andy and Cole are coming down in a few minutes. Emi and Josh are getting their breakfast right now,” she says, taking a sip of her caramel colored coffee. 

You nod and set your cardigan down in the chair next to Emily’s. 

“I’m gonna go get some food. I’m starving,” you say, and you catch Joel’s lip switch up into a subtle smirk out of the corner of your eye. 

Your mom nods while your dad indulges in his breakfast, completely ignoring what you just said. A small laugh emits you as you turn to Joel, nodding toward the hotel. 

“Hungry?” You ask him. 

His smirk widens, staring at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. 

“Starving.”

Your face heats at his words, but luckily he said it low enough to where your parents didn’t hear him. 

“You’re insatiable, Mr. Miller,” you walk with him toward the breakfast buffet area, grabbing two plates and handing him one. 

“Can you blame me, baby? I got a beautiful lady on my arm, and she gets to come home with me,” he wiggles his brows, and you can’t help but laugh at how absolutely cheesy he can be. 

One minute he’s got his face buried in your pussy telling you you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted, and the next he’s cracking jokes like you two weren’t doing anything sinful just an hour prior. 

The duality of this man is truly unmatched. 

You look around the room and see your sister plating a waffle, so you give Joel a kiss on the cheek before walking over to her. 

“Well hello, Mrs. Martinez,” you say, and your sister whips her head around. 

“God, it feels so weird hearing that. I love it so much,” she says, and you can’t help but smile at how happy she seems. 

“Well, get used to it. You’re a married woman now, missy.” 

“You probably won’t be far behind,” Emily teases, and your brows furrow. 

“Emi, Joel and I have only been together for a couple of months,” you sound flustered, and your sister gives you a knowing look. 

“So? When you know, you know, and what you and Joel have is special. I haven’t seen you this happy with anyone… ever, actually. Do you love him?” 

Her question takes you aback. You know you do, but admitting it out loud makes it all one hundred percent real. You can’t continue being afraid of your emotions, even if it may seem like it’s too fast. Self-sabotage isn’t going to fly anymore. You can’t help how you feel. 

“I do,” you finally say, and Emily breaks out into a face-splitting grin. 

“Have you told him?” 

You’re about to answer her, but Josh walks up to you both. 

“Good morning, sis in law,” he grins, nudging your side. 

“Well good morning to you too,” you laugh, giving him a side hug. 

“We’ll talk more about this later,” Emily whispers, giving your forearm a squeeze, and you give her a nod. As her and Josh walk back outside, you turn to the spread of food and concentrate on getting your breakfast. You plate a waffle, potatoes, bacon and scrambled eggs before meeting Joel at the coffee station. He hands you a cup with coffee in it, just how you like it. 

You sip it to taste test it, the warm liquid immediately rejuvenating your energy. “Mmm, my hero,” you tell Joel. “I was feeling really tired.” 

“I wonder why,” he grins, following you outside to re-join your family. 

“It’s ‘cus my man doesn’t know how to keep his needy hands to himself,” you shrug nonchalantly, and Joel rolls his eyes with a hearty laugh. 

“Hey, as far as I’m concerned, you enjoyed these needy hands.” 

You have to stifle a laugh as you approach the table again, taking your respective seats. You settled in between Emily and Joel, diving into your breakfast. 

Andy and Cole show up a minute later, looking super sluggish and hungover. You and Emily share a nudge under the table, quietly laughing to yourselves.

”Look what the cat dragged in,” you tease your brothers as they both plop down on the opposite side of the table. 

“Stop yelling so loud, Shadow,” Cole groans, and you can’t help but laugh. Idiots. 

“For the love of god, get yourself some bread and coffee. It’ll wake you fools right up,” your dad grumbles, and Andy waves his hand. 

“Fuck, fine. We will. C’mon Cole,” Andy stands up again, dragging your brother along with him. 

Your mom and dad engage in conversation with Emily and Josh, your mom nudging Emily while wiggling her brows. 

“I expect grandbabies after this honeymoon trip,” she wags her fork between Emily and Josh. 

“Jesus, mom, give them a break. They haven’t even been married for twenty-four hours yet.”

Emily gives you a silent thank you look before your mom narrows her eyes at you, pointing her fork at you now. 

“Hey, you probably won’t be too far behind your sister. Joel’s family now, baby. No goin’ back,” she smiles triumphantly, earning another round of groans from the table. 

“Fucking hell,” you mumble, “Would you stop trying to scare him off, mom?” You sigh in exasperation, rubbing your temple. 

“Can’t scare me off that easily, darlin’,” Joel says, giving your mom a wink. “I appreciate you thinkin’ so highly of me, Alexandria.” 

Your mom shoots Joel a grand smile before Andy and Cole return to the table. 

“How hard did you guys party last night?” Emily asks them. 

“Too fuckin’ hard. Feels like I’m about to have this damn hangover for a week,” Andy says, groaning before taking a bite of toast. 

“Well luckily checkout isn’t until three, so you can sleep before you hit the road,” your mom says, and they both sluggishly nod before silently eating their toast. 

“So Joel,” your dad starts, and your attention snaps to him. “Got any siblings?” 

“I do, actually. A younger brother. He works at the same firehouse as I do,” Joel says coolly, and you wonder briefly how he’s still so calm. You know if you ever got the chance to meet Joel’s parents, you’d be an absolute nervous wreck. 

Joel kept the conversation going with your dad about Tommy, and the rest of your family chimed in from time-to-time. It was then when everyone was deep in conversation that Emily gave you another nudge. You turn your head to her, raising an eyebrow. 

“You left pretty early last night,” Emily’s soft tone had a hint of mischief in it, and your eyes widened as you looked at her. 

“Shit, I didn’t miss anything, did I?” You were running through the events in your head: couple’s first dance, dancing with the bride and groom, bouquet toss, cake cutting, family photos…

She giggles softly and shakes her head. “No, but with the way you looked last night, I wouldn’t be surprised if your cowboy couldn’t keep his hands off of you.” 

Your face heats at her words. Fuck, she really knows you better than anyone on this planet. Your silence told her everything she needed to know. You swallow thickly, eyes roaming around the table. 

Joel’s hand lands on your thigh, softly brushing his thumb back and forth. His subtle touch sends a shiver down your spine, and Emily notices. 

You lace your hand with Joel’s and he gives yours a soft squeeze, all while continuing his engaging conversation with your family. 

“Yeah, uh, we um—”

”You don’t even need to say it. I knew you looked a bit different this morning. You’re glowing, my beloved sister,” she says with a smirk, and you can’t help but bashfully smile. 

“It was amazing. He’s amazing, Emi,” your voice is a mere whisper, not wanting to be overheard by anybody. 

“I can tell he is. I’m so happy for you. After Christian,” she shakes her head, rolling her eyes at the mention of your ex, “I genuinely thought you wouldn’t be receptive to opening up and finding love again. I’m so glad you did. I love seeing you happy.” 

Tears spring in your eyes at her words. You didn’t think you’d be receptive to love again either, but here you are with Joel—and fuck do you love him.

”Thank you for giving me that push, Em. I really needed it,” you say, wiping a stray tear that slipped from your eye. 

“That’s what big sisters are for,” she leans in and kisses your head, and you can’t help but thank the stars above that your sister keeps you in check when it’s really needed. 

A few hours after breakfast, everybody met down in the lobby with their stuff to check out and say goodbye. Emily and Josh were going to Costa Rica for their honeymoon, and your mom and dad had volunteered to take all of their wedding gifts and drop it off at their apartment while they were gone. Joel, Andy, Cole and Josh all helped your dad load the gifts into the bed of his truck while you, your mom, and Emily stood in the lobby. 

“Oh, I just cannot believe my buggy is married,” your mom says, bringing Emily into a near bone-crushing hug. She laughs and hugs your mom back tightly, and your mom yanks your arm toward them so you can join in. You hug them both, kissing both of their heads before letting go. 

“I’m seriously so happy for you, Emi. I know Josh is your fairytale ending you’ve always wished for,” you say, and she brings you into another hug. 

“And Joel is yours, my sweet sister,” she’s got a matter-of-fact tone to her voice, and your mom nods in agreement. 

“You two look so good together. There’s just something special about him. Call it mother’s intuition,” your mom winks at you, and you groan. 

“Can we please focus on Emi? She’s the one who just got married.” 

“Oh, fine. But don’t think this conversation isn’t going to get brought up again,” your mom says, bumping you with her hip. 

You hold your hands up in defense, knowing this isn’t something she’ll let go of too easily. 

The men all return to the lobby, and you can’t help but admire the sweaty brow and neck Joel sported, now wearing an olive green shirt that stretched across his broad chest and hugged his biceps tightly, paired with some black jeans. 

You found yourself nearly salivating, feeling like a bitch in heat. Fucking hell. You really don’t think you’ll ever be able to get enough of him. 

He notices you staring, giving you a subtle smirk before walking up to you to give your head a kiss. 

“Like what ya see?” He whispers into your ear, and you nearly groan in front of everybody. That little bit of self control you have is fizzling away every second you’re within proximity of him. 

“You know I do.” 

He grins at your verbal confession, giving your arm a soft squeeze as he pulls you into his side. 

“Well,” your mom claps her hands together, “This is it. Congratulations again, you two, and I can’t wait to hear all about Costa Rica when you come back home,” she gives both Emily and Josh a hug, kissing them both on the cheek. 

“We better get photos in the family chat,” Andy says. 

“Swim with a turtle for me,” Cole chimes in, which pulls a laugh from everyone. 

“We will. Thank you guys again for everything,” Josh says, looking at Emily with a gleam of pure love in his eyes. “My wife and I have lots of exploring to look forward to.” 

“Indeed we do,” she clings onto his arm, giving him a chaste kiss. 

Everybody gives them their round of hugs, and Emily pulls you in extra tight. “I’ll call you, okay?” She says, and you give her a small smile and nod. 

“I love you, Emi. Be safe out there and have endless cocktails for me,” you bring her in for one last hug, kissing her on the temple. 

Everybody waves Emily and Josh off as they get their suitcases loaded and themselves situated in their Uber off to the airport. 

“We’ll have to plan something for their homecoming,” your mom says after they leave.

”Does everyone live in Austin?” Joel asks the group, and everyone nods. 

“For the most part. Sometimes my job has me going down to Corpus Christi for a few weeks on end,” Andy says. 

“Well if everyone’s schedules align, I wouldn’t mind throwin’ a barbecue at my house for them when they get back,” Joel says with a grin. 

“Oh Joel, you’d be willing to do that?” Your mom clasps her hands together, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a hopeful look in her eye. 

“‘Course. I love throwin’ barbecues, n’ what’s more to celebrate them comin’ back from their trip?” 

Your mom just can’t help herself and throws her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. He grunts in surprise and chuckles, wrapping his arms around her briefly before she pulls away. 

“Christ honey, let the man breathe,” your dad huffs, pulling her away from him. Your mom swats your dad’s arm playfully, glaring up at him. The height difference between them is always comical when your mom tries to get mad at your dad, because she’s so tiny compared to him. 

She turns back to you both, expression switching to a smile. ”It’s settled then. We can text about the details later,” your mom looks at you, and you nod. 

“Sure thing, mama,” you say, giving her and your dad a hug. You move on to your brothers, both of them giving you tight hugs and a slug to the arm. 

“Assholes,” you laugh, “Don’t be strangers alright? Text me once in a while, idiots,” you roll your eyes, and Cole huffs. 

“Mom, Shadow is calling us idiots,” he tattles like a damn three year old, and your dad laughs. 

“Well she ain’t wrong,” your dad says, and you can’t help but laugh along with him. 

“Michael Alejandro, don’t talk about our kids like that… in front of them,” your mom says, and everyone laughs. 

“Damn dad, mom’s calling you by your government name. Looks like you’re gonna get it when you two get home,” Cole snickers, and your mom smirks at him. 

“Oh he sure is,” there was an underlying sound of need in her tone. 

“Ugh, gross mom,” Andy says, scrunching his face in disgust. 

“How the hell d’ya think you four got here?” Your dad asks, and all three of you groan. 

“Aaand that’s our cue to go. Love you everybody, drive safe, and text when y’all get home,” you say, waving to your family. Joel laughs and says goodbye to everyone, giving your mom a hug and your dad a handshake. 

Your brothers opt for a “bro hug” before he’s by your side again, lacing his fingers with yours as you blow your family one last kiss, walking out of the lobby and back to Joel’s truck, suitcases in tow. 

“What a fun weekend,” you say, and Joel’s eyes flicker back up to the hotel. Your family members weren’t in sight, so before he opens your door for you, he presses you up against his truck and cages you in between his arms. He’s got a devious smirk on his face before he dips in to kiss you. 

“Sure was, baby. Gotta say it’s probably one of the most incredible weekends I’ve had…ever, actually.” 

You raise your eyebrow, hands trailing up to Joel’s strong chest. You feel his heartbeat beneath your fingertips, and you can’t help the lazy smile that crosses your lips as you think about the night and morning you both spent together. 

“Agreed. Probably gonna have flashbacks about it for weeks,” you bite your lip, batting your lashes in a way that makes Joel’s cock jump in his jeans. 

Seems like he can’t get enough of you, either. 

“Weeks, huh? Why have flashbacks when we can recreate the moment over,” he pauses, kissing you briefly. He separates from your lips, one hand trailing down your arm and to your hand that was on his chest, lacing your fingers together once more. “And over,” he whispers against your lips, and a whine bubbles in your throat. 

“No fair,” you pout, and he laughs as he pulls away from you. 

“Insatiable, are we?” He chastises you playfully, and you roll your eyes at him with a smirk. 

“For you, Mr. Miller? Always.” 

-

The drive back to Austin was fairly quick. There wasn’t any traffic to your guys’ luck, and you made it home within an hour. 

Joel dropped you off first and walked you up to your door, carrying your luggage for you like the gentleman he is. 

“You sure I can’t convince you to let me stay?” He rolls your suitcase into your bedroom, turning to look at you as you lean up against the doorframe. 

“As much as I’d love that,” you sigh, pushing yourself off the frame, “I have some cleaning I have to do and we both have work tomorrow. I’m sure Sarah misses you terribly, too.” 

Joel chuckles at the last part, “‘M sure she’s thrilled I was gone for a whole weekend,” he huffs, and you wrap your arms around him. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. That girl loves you with her whole heart and I’m sure she misses her dad,” you lean in to kiss him briefly, hands sliding up and down his back in a comforting way. 

Joel leans into your touch and sighs, softly knocking his forehead against yours. 

“You’re right. I miss her just as much. God knows she was really takin’ care of herself this weekend instead of Tommy lookin’ after her,” he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“I dunno. Seems like Maria’s got Tommy whipped into good shape.” 

Joel huffs a laugh, “‘S a damn miracle he found that woman. I swear.” 

You stand there in each other’s arms for the next few minutes, silence wrapping itself around you two. Being in his presence will always comfort you, and another part of you didn’t want to admit to yourself that you’d miss him once he left to go back to his place.

You were so used to being by yourself, even when you were with Christian. You’ve always done things on your own—that’s how it’s always been. You’re still adjusting to the idea of someone being there for you, doing things for you, liking you enough to not want to leave right away. It’s an oddity in your life that you’re having trouble wrapping your mind around, and you think that’s another reason you wanted to push away from this at first. 

The mere idea of loving someone and opening up your heart fully again did terrify you, yes, but it’s set in stone now. There’s no turning back. 

Joel Miller has your heart completely in the palm of his hand—you just need to tell him so. 

Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you pull back from him, mouth going dry as your anxiety takes over your body. 

Fuck. Here goes, well, everything, actually. 

“Joel,” you whisper, staring into those sweet brown eyes you’ve come to know and love. You can do this. Just say it. ”I—”

The shrill of his phone ringtone rang through the dense silence in the room, and a part of you wanted to sigh in relief. 

“Sorry darlin’,” his voice is soft, easily forgivable as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. His eyes skim over the caller ID, answering it before pressing the phone to his ear. 

“Hey babydoll,” he says, and you immediately knew it was Sarah. “‘M just droppin’ her off. Should be home in a half hour.”

You step back from him to give him a little more privacy for his conversation, but he grabs your waist and brings your body flush to his. 

God, you really hope he can’t feel how fast your heart’s beating. 

“Mhm, sounds good. I’ll pick that up for dinner. Love you too, bye,” he hangs up the phone, shoving it back in his pocket before his hands land gently on your hips. He gives them a soft squeeze before leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

“What was it that you wanted to tell me?” He asks, looking at you with genuine curiosity. 

You swallow thickly, throat still dry. “Just that I had a great time with you this weekend. Wish it didn’t have to end,” Nice save, you think—but you smack yourself on the hand for backing out of telling him. 

“I did too, baby. We’ll have to plan a weekend to get away, just you n’ me. How’s that sound?” He rubs his hands up and down your arms in a comforting way, making you sigh in content. 

“I’d love that,” you grin, and he nods. 

“I better get goin’ before the little rascal starts reprimandin’ me for bein’ late.”

”We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” You tease, voice laced with a hint of a laugh. 

Joel shakes his head no, flashing you his million dollar smile. 

“C’mon cowboy,” you walk him to the front door of your apartment, and he turns to you before you can open the door for him. 

“I’ll text ya when I get home, baby. Thank you for invitin’ me to spend time with you and your family this weekend,” he says, cupping your cheeks to bring you into a sweet goodbye kiss. 

“Thank you for braving it out and coming with me. Sorry if they were a bit much.”

Joel waves his hand in a playful dismissal. “Nah, they’re amazing. Even if I got interrogated by your brothers, I think this is the start of a beautiful bromance,” he wiggles his eyebrows, and you can’t help but laugh loudly. 

“You did not just say bromance. Get outta here,” you nudge him and he grins, pecking your lips a couple of more times before he opens your door. 

“I’ll see you real soon, baby. Can’t get rid of me that easy.”

”I’m counting on it, cowboy.”

-

You didn’t get to see Joel that whole week. It was now Friday, and you were missing him like crazy. You tried to ignore the weird feeling of not sleeping next to him at night, albeit only doing it a handful of times. You just felt like you got a better night’s sleep in his arms, all secure and warm.

His shifts at the firehouse have been long and chaotic, and between that and taking Sarah to soccer practice and school, Joel had his hands full. 

You understood completely. Life happens, and you knew this would happen eventually. It’s not like not seeing him was on purpose. Even Maria said she hadn’t really seen Tommy a whole lot either, so to fix the loneliness pulling at both of your hearts, you invited her out to dinner. 

You caught her up on the amazing weekend you and Joel had as soon as you both sat down. She was dying to hear the details, so you told her practically everything—except for what you did in the bedroom with Joel—all the way down to when he left your apartment. 

“Oh my god, well first of all, I’m so happy for you. Sounds like it was a perfect weekend,” she says, taking a sip of her white wine. 

You smile as you recall his hands all over you, the way he held you, his sweet words—all of it. “Thank you. It really was.” 

“Sooo have you told him how you feel about him yet?” She asks, brow quirked with a subtle grin on her lips. 

“I almost did, but then he got a phone call from Sarah and I bitched out, Maria,” you bury your face in your hands, sighing. 

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Your past relationship wasn’t all sunshine and daisies. This is a huge step for you, and you even allowing yourself to feel like this toward him is admirable in itself.” 

Her words did an excellent job at comforting you. Maybe you were just too in your head about this. But the other part of you—the logical, sensible part, constantly loomed over you like a damn gray cloud. 

“I just—fuck, what if this is too fast? Isn’t it too soon?” You ask, slumping back into your seat. “I mean, there’s still so much to learn about each other.”

“You can be in love with someone and still have a lot to learn along the way,” Maria says, “And besides. You can’t help the way you feel. I know someone who said ‘I love you’ to their partner a month into their relationship, and they’ve now been married for like fifteen years.” 

Maria grabs your hand from across the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Look, it’s normal to be scared. Every relationship is different, hon. They all go at their own pace. But, I can guarantee he feels the same way. What you two have is special,” she gives your hand one last squeeze before releasing it, leaning back in the booth before polishing off her drink. 

You know she’s right. Damn this woman and her wisdom beyond her years. It’s one of the many things you love about her. Her and your sister really keep you grounded, that’s for sure.

 You take everything she just told you into consideration, deciding that you were going to take charge of your feelings and do yourself (and Joel) the favor of telling him how you really feel. 

“Today’s their last shift I think for three days, so I’ll see if I can get him alone tomorrow,” you say, and she claps her hands together. 

“I can hear the wedding bells already,” she quips, and you can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh. 

After dinner, you two walk out of the restaurant with your arms linked, fat droplets of rain suddenly plopping on your head. 

“I didn’t know it was gonna rain tonight,” you say as you both retract yourselves back under the awning of the front of the restaurant. 

“Me either,” Maria says, wiping the droplets off of her face. 

The ringer of your phone is at battle with the sound of pouring rain, but you fish it out of your pocket and furrow your brows when you see Tommy’s name across your screen. You show the screen to Maria, and she whips out her phone to see if she’s got any missed calls from him. 

You answer the phone and put him on speaker. “You jealous that I’m out on a date with your woman?” You tease, both you and Maria laughing. 

Tommy says your name frantically over the phone, and your heart immediately drops. 

Something’s wrong.

”Tommy? What is it? Is everything okay?” The urgency in your voice now matches his own. 

“No, fuck—it’s bad. It’s bad. You need to get to St. David’s, now.” Tommy says, and your heartbeat accelerates rapidly. Your hands start to shake and your anxiety fuels every single cell in your body. 

“Tommy, what-,” you nearly choke on your own breath, “What happened? What’s wrong?” You try again, voice shaky and uncertain, hoping he’d give you an explanation. Your gaze shifts to Maria in panic, and she brings you into her side to hold you, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what you heard him say next. 

“I-It’s Joel. He’s—dammit, he’s hurt.” 

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if you’d like to be added / removed from the taglist for this series, please let me know.

divider by @saradika-graphics

[willwriteforboots]

Book Review: "Burning Desire" by Marie Harte

Welcome back for another awesome book review! For book 17 out of my 30 book reading challenge, I’m heating things up with the fun firehouse romance Burning Desire by Marie Harte. Featuring firefighters, Southern gentlemen, and an adorable dog named bubbles, this one simply made me happy every time I picked it up. Ready to dive in? Here are my honest thoughts and opinions on Burning Desire. So,…

[har-har-harvey]

i’m not even gonna lie to y’all, at first i thought that somebody had just photoshopped freddie mercury into a fire truck really really well

I adore this

[taintedcigs]

can’t stop thinking about firefighter steve x chief’s daughter and it’s your fault </3333

— switched

firefighter!steve harrington x reader.

CAN'T STOP WON'T STOP... I AM SORRY!!!... also ignore my lazy caption i cant find anything better woops... warnings: MINORS DNI!!! just filthy piv smut, maybe a bit of mean!steve, some dirty talk and DUH switch!steve and switch!reader bc i can't help myself. </3 wc: 1.1k+

But seriously imagine Steve with Captain's daughter... you meet him when your dad takes you down to the station, and of course, Steve charming Harrington lays (or at least tries to) the moves on you the SECOND he meets you, and sure enough, captain WARNS him to stay away from you.

Not realizing forbidden fruit is much more juicy when it's prohibited. and it quickly turns into a dirty little secret.

So casual and fun, the sneaking around, the hidden dates, having sex wherever and whenever you can, and of course, having sex while the others are busy and he's not, and now you convince him to have sex in one of the trucks.

Lodged in one of the backseats, you're on top of him, his uniform folded to his ankles, he looks good with it, but much better out of it.

With slow movements, you tease him, milking him for his worth, hips rolling so skillfully that all he can do is mutter out a few "F-fuck!"'s and a whole lot of "S-shit.... mhmm... jus' like that, honey."

You're perfect, but your teasing is straight-up torturous. "Baby," he whispers, lips grazing over your ear, pathetically and heaving, just needing more of you, even though you're sure he can't go in any deeper.

"We have to be quick." It's almost like a warning, he doesn't want to get caught, and neither do you, but it's so much fun with the risks, with the what-ifs, with the sneaking around and the secrets.

You pull back from his neck with a hearty giggle, the smile adorning your face is sweet and deadly, picking up your pace just slightly, bouncing up and down his veiny cock, feeling him stretch you open, nice and wide.

And as much as you want to pretend that it doesn't have any effect on you, it does. He's big, so big that you can almost feel him splitting you open, feeling him throbbing, can imagine his pink tip going red, tired of all the teasing, but you're nowhere near done. "Oh, do we?"

You throw him another sultry look and at this point, you can barely see his pupils, gaze overblown by desire, the tight hold he has on your hips is almost bruising, marking you, heavy breathing all over your already marked up neck. you know he's going to explode soon. "I don't think you get to decide that, Steve."

Another smirk thrown his way, "What happened, Stevie? gonna cum?" you ask, voice filled with desire, hips grinding against his thighs, every movement is met with his loud moans.

Not even bothering to stifle it.

It's like he wants everyone to know that you're his.

"You're evil," he groans, it's much less pathetic, almost sinful coming out from his salmon-pink lips, the tip of his cock hitting spots inside of you that you didn't know existed.

And you try, so hard, to play it cool, like grinding down on his huge cock is not making you want to scream out.

Like his thick thighs that you are sitting on and heavy balls that are slapping against your sweetest spots aren't making you squirm, like you're not about to whine and beg for him to make you cum.

And, shit, you know he can tell, by the way his big hands grab your hips, guiding you roughly, a bruising hold that makes you let out a mewl, yet, you still hope he doesn't notice.

But he does.

"You love it, don't you? Love me having all the control and being all mean to you?" Your last attempt to have all the control and you fail.

Because his padded thumb rubs circles against your clit, and your voice cracks, turning you into a mewling mess.

He can feel you slipping over the control, it's all so quick, one more move from him and he knows you'll be putty in his hands, begging to have his cock stuffed inside you forever.

Just the thought of that makes him want to spend his load inside of you, a half-smirk is quick to form its place on his freckled cheeks. "That's funny," he grunts, realizing that your movements are slowing down, allowing him to finally drive his cock into you slowly, regaining some sort of control, intently watching the way your eyes roll all the way to the back of your head.

"W-what is?" You try to hum confidently, attempting to mask your submissiveness, but it's too fucking late, and that infamous smirk grows on his cheeks, spreading all over.

He chuckles, the sound bellowing from his stomach, it's downright pornographic, making your pussy flutter in more ways than one.

His movements pick up, fucking into you with short but rough thrusts, filling you all the way in.

"That you think you even have an ounce of control, sweetheart," he growls into your ear, making you moan with need, the room filled with slapping noises, heavy balls hitting against your clit.

All so stimulating.

"I let you have it, and I can take it away just as quick, hmm?" He barely gives you any time to adjust to his words, abusing his cock inside of your soppy pussy, making you gasp as your gaze glistens with tears.

He's just so fucking good.

And you're perfect like this.

"S-steve!" You yelp, driving him more and more to the brink of insanity, hands grabbing any globe of skin he can find, teeth sinking into it, while his cock hits inside of that sweet spongey spot that makes you sing.

You have that fucked out look on your face, plushy lips slightly apart, hair disheveled and brows knitted, Steve wants nothing more than to fuck your drooly lips next, and fill each of your filthy holes with his cum.

"God, I love it much more when you go all cock drunk on me like this.... Can't even form a coherent thought when I'm poundin' into you, can you, honey?" The name sounds sickly sweet rolling off his lips, but in the dirtiest way, and all you can do is nod meekly, grabbing onto his shoulders for some sort of support.

He hums contently, watching the way his cock disappears in and out of you, covered in your juices, perfect fucking sight.

"Singing like an angel the second i have you bouncin' on my cock, that's right, sweetheart, love it so much more when all that's coming out of those pretty little lips are those whines," he whispers in the shell of your ear, mouth running more and more the closer he gets, and his gaze darkens.

"Now be a good girl and take my cock, yea?"

[alchemistc]

Found this in my drafts and decided to finish it up, written before the Abby reveal so we're just pretending that never happened, have some outsider pov of the alt timeline where Tommy and Buck met before Buck was at the 118.

Tommy is being weird. That's the only way Hen can describe it. He's been quiet on calls, none of the usual banter and posturing she's used to; he's been quiet in the station, prone to staring at the space between his lap and the dinner table even as Chim spouts off some ironic quote that would have had him cheesing it up a few weeks previous; he's been quiet as he packs his shit and heads out for his truck. Each afternoon since he'd quietly announced his transfer to the 217, he's been quiet, and it's weird.

Hen's not entirely surprised. Tommy's nothing if not protective of his own feelings - years and years of Gerrard all hanging over their heads even though he'd admitted a few drinks deep one night that he was pretty positive his professionally scathing complaint about Gerrard was very likely what tipped the scales ("Could have been Sal's, though," he'd said with a shrug as his eyes drifted to the head on his beer.). From what she's gleaned off Chim, there's a good chance he'd been an ass in part to protect himself from feeling too bad about losing someone, too (again) - not that that's any type of excuse for the shit he'd had a hand in putting her through. An excuse for the things he's said, in the heat of the moment, in the quiet caverns of life under a shitty captain.

(Stumbled apologies, serious expressions on a face softened only by the shots he'd been buying all night, words said and unsaid between them and the gaping maw between a Chim happy to accept and move on while Hen downed her tequila and waited for the other shoe to drop.)

It's been years since then. Years and years winding between them all, a dozen captains and more than a few transfers of good firefighters away from the 118, and something good and warm and special brewing in their house with the arrival of the captain who'd made family dinners a daily occurrence.

She'd sort of expected Tommy might finally open up, when those family dinners kept going and Nash kept staying and things started to settle into something closer to friendly instead of the soldiers of war camaraderie they'd grown so used to. And maybe he has, to someone who isn't Hen - who'd taken his little efforts to change at face value and refused to put in more work than that for a colleague who'd made mostly bare minimum efforts post-Gerrard, always accepting the new status quo, refusing to make waves. She respects Tommy. Trusts him on the job, and sometimes off of it when they've had a shitty shift and need to decompress before they go home to the people in their lives who can never really understand losing someone to the heat of a fire, to blood loss and blunt force trauma. Doesn't care for him the way Chim seems to, doesn't really desire a closer relationship than the one they've maintained through the turnover of captains and the 48's they pull on occasion.

But Tommy's being weird, and Hen's pretty sure she's the only one who sees it.

She waits until she's sure Chim has a date to hit up Tommy for an after shift drink, and his eyes crinkle around the corners in suspicion because he knows just as well as she that she's putting them in an awkward position without the buffer zone of an extra coworker to fill in the blank spots of the things they don't say to each other. He'll be gone in a week. There's not a single fucking reason for her to try to get to know him better now.

"Sure thing, Wilson," he says, and when he offers to drive them both Hen makes up some excuse about needing her car in case of some Denny related emergency.

---

She expects it to take a while. Ply him with a few drinks, figure out what it is about Howie that always puts Tommy at ease so quickly when they're out like this and try to replicate it - he keeps things close to the vest but Hen has ways of weaseling things out of people once she's got them where she wants them.

Tommy sighs and picks at the label on his bottle. Thins his lips, and stares at her sideways. "I'm seeing someone," he says, in an undertone, and Hen hasn't even taken her first sip from the bottle he'd ordered for her, too, while she scrounged up one of the smaller booths. His eyes dart, like he's checking to make sure no one else is listening, that no one here recognizes him, and Hen - Hen knows that look. She just can't square that look with Mr. Toxic Heterosexuality himself.

Hen takes a sip. Forces herself not to vibrate out of her own skin because - because - because she's gotta wait this shit out. Could be he's found himself attracted to some weird goth chick, or a woman with meat on her bones, in which case he's in for a big ole smack to the head or one of the looks she reserves for when the boys get a little too caught up in their locker room talk.

He darts his gaze up. Meets hers, steady on, for the first time in...weeks, actually, now that she's thinking about it, and the guilt there in his eyes sure is something to behold.

"He's younger," Tommy says, and Hen rolls her tongue over her teeth so she doesn't do something stupid like hone in on that pronoun with either glee or full-on righteous anger.

Hen narrows her eyes instead, and is surprised that he keeps her gaze. She's expecting - unnecessary contrition, or maybe a ducked head or excuses. He chews on the inside of his lip and chuffs out a self deprecating laugh.

"I don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing and he still lives in a frat house."

Hen's mind goes somewhere inappropriate, and she has to stop herself from making a truly horrible hand gesture because he can't possibly mean -

He rolls his eyes. "I know where to stick it, Wilson, that's not the issue."

She has about half a million questions queueing - things she's not sure they're close enough to ask, things she doesn't actually want the answer to but stick there in the back of her mind anyway, things she'd never ask someone who'd been kind to her from the outset. "How'd you do it?" he asks, and Hen remembers the way he'd stood, arms crossed and face blank and something sad and vulnerable in his face while she lectured from her red and chrome pulpit. Jesus. He's known. He's known a while.

"I've never exactly been passing," she tells him, and winces at the aggression in her voice, in that statement, in the very existence of the idea. He shoots her a bitchy look that's far more familiar, in line with their normal dynamic. It has her rolling her shoulders back, has her sitting up a little more in her seat. "Is that - are you asking me how to come out?"

Tommy shrugs. Tips his head. "You're the one who wanted to get drinks."

"And if I hadn't asked?"

She knows the answer. The dumbass would have transferred out of the 118 with no one the wiser. Probably fallen off all the group chats, squared with himself for however long it took, decided one way or another who to tell from there. But he's here now, talking to Hen. Telling Hen, the person he's probably the least close to.

Hen sighs. Takes a longer drag off her beer this time while Tommy folds up a piece of the label he's ripped off. She's not gonna be his fucking gay guru. They're not anywhere approaching that close.

He could have lied, though, is the thing. Seems like he's maybe been lying for a while, if the uncharacteristic fidgeting is anything to go by. She knows him under stress, knows him when he's walking through literal fire. Figurative fire is an entirely different matter. She doesn't know that Tommy.

The words that fall out of her mouth aren't the ones she's aiming for. "You and Sal." she says, and then bites down the rest of that sentence like it'll burn them both. His eyes dart up. He shifts in his seat.

"The only reason I'm saying a word is because the answer is no," he says, and - yeah that's fair. Everyone has the right to come out of the closet in their own fucking time.

"So this kid," Hen says, moving on, and - oh. There's that look. It's a little dreamy-eyed, the way he's been getting sometimes when he's looking down at his phone and trying his hardest to keep a straight face. "What's the deal there?"

"He's new," Tommy says, and Hen can feel her brow tic up of it's own accord, because he says it with the authority of someone who isn't new. Hen has to wonder exactly how many times the perpetually single Tommy joke had been made while Tommy was less than single. God, that had to have stung, hadn't it? "He's - apparently he didn't realize he was flirting until I kissed him about it."

That's remarkably brave for a man who isn't out to a single person he and Hen are mutually acquainted with. At least as far as she knows - Chim can't keep a secret to save his damn life so at least she knows he doesn't know.

"You know you didn't have to tell me any of this."

His expression is wry. He bites his lip, curls his tongue over his teeth, shakes his head like he's clearing cobwebs. "The transfer isn't the only thing I had on the docket for major life changes."

Karen's gonna be pissed if Hen doesn't get the dirt, she tells herself as she leans forward, so she throws a teasing edge to her voice as she quirks a brow. "This life change have anything to do with your baby gay or is that just a natural progression of the coming out process?"

Tommy's posture eases, just a little. He gives her a look that she's more familiar with seeing when Chim's in the booth next to him, or they're elbow deep in shit-talk at the station.

"Happy accident, actually," he says, and Hen leans in to listen to him dish when his eyes go all soft and gooey.

___

She's known Evan Buckley a total of six hours the first time he mentions his boyfriend. There's a nervous edge to it, like he's still testing the word out, like the syllables are unfamiliar, and he glances down at the phone in his lap right after he says it, like he's double checking something. Hen wouldn't have pegged him for it, for all that she tends not to make assumptions. It's just. He's so.

Hen shoves back against the stereotypical bullshit and throws him a bone, because he looks like he's fucking desperate to share information on the fact that someone cares enough about him to let him call them his boyfriend. She lobs a layup, something relatable about 'my wife, Karen'.

"Yeah, Tommy said you were married."

Hen pauses. Wonders if she can turn her head like an owl so that she doesn't have to shift her weight to look behind her at where Buck is happily washing dishes, elbow-deep in sudsy water. There's no one else up here with them - most of the shift is working off dinner downstairs.

"We never have meals like this at home, I'm lucky if the guys I live with don't steal my last packet of ramen before I can get to it," he'd said, and she remembers Tommy grinning at the memory of this Evan he'd been seeing being inordinately impressed by the fact that Tommy could grill a steak. ("Jesus, Kinard, are you sure you're not robbing the fucking cradle?")

Hen shifts. Eyes him a little more carefully as he turns his head to meet her gaze, and - holy shit, she's actually feeling a little protective of Tommy Kinard right now. "He know you're out here sharing his business?" It's not the tone she's going for - admonishing instead of exploratory, but Buck just grins at her over his shoulder, like he's pleased Tommy has someone watching out for him. Shit. She'd been a little concerned that Tommy was in over his head, stuck up on the idea of being out out and clinging to the first boy that batted his lashes, but it feels like maybe there's more to it than that. She can't square that with what has to be at least a decade of years between them, but -

Love is love, and all that.

"We, uh. We've been talking about it."

Hen raises an eyebrow, because that's not actually a green light to air Tommy's business.

"He - well last night we talked about it again. So. I mean it's not like Facebook official or anything. But he said it was cool to talk to you. A-all of you. He's - everyone at Harbor knows me."

It hurts a bit to know that Tommy's been there less than six months and felt more comfortable being himself with a bunch of strangers, but...

It's good. That he has that. That he's not walking the world just shoving bits and pieces of himself away.

Hen watches him rinse his arms and square his shoulders and shift to face her. "How'd you two meet, anyway?" she asks, because Tommy had been so stuck on the trying to figure out how to have an honest relationship piece that she'd never gotten around to asking.

Buck's expression could be easily mistaken for a solar flare, for the way it lights up the whole loft.

[fireya-x]

hold me close and tell me that it's real

【 AO3 Link (full tag list) || masterlist 】 ✦ John Price x Reader ✦ A message to a wrong number turns out to be just perfectly right. ✦ 4.7k words ✦ tags/cw: smut, neighbor!price, wrong number, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, strangers to lovers, aftercare

The bathroom air, thick with steam, clung to the cool tiles. The fogged mirror reflected a distorted image of you, a silhouette emerging from the swirling mist. You’d agonized over which photo to send the firefighter from Tinder, meticulously staging it until your body was just visible enough through the hazed mirror, the outline of your body a clear invitation. Biting your lip, a nervous blush warmed your cheeks. You usually weren’t one for such blatant displays of… yourself. 

But tonight, something felt different. Reckless. Desperate, even. Maybe it was the gnawing loneliness that had been settling in your bones lately — a constant, dull ache that no amount of casual encounters seemed to alleviate — that made you reckless. 

You reached for your phone and began typing a casual message, trying to sound as flirty and inviting as possible. Attaching the photo, you hesitated, chewing on your lower lip, a familiar wave of self-doubt washing over you.  

Was this too much? Would he even be interested? Was your body even desirable enough?  

You’d always been self-conscious about your curves and softness, comparing yourself to the impossibly thin, toned figures gracing the pages of magazines, the women who seemed to attract the attention and affection you craved effortlessly. The string of meaningless dates, the empty encounters that had left you feeling more hollow than fulfilled, had only amplified your insecurities.  

You’re not enough. You’re too much. You’ll never find someone who truly wants all of you.

He was attractive, yes, this firefighter, with rugged handsomeness, but something still felt off. He wasn't him. He wasn't John Price, your enigmatic, handsome neighbor who sometimes fed your cat, whose presence electrified the air, sending a ripple of awareness through your senses whenever he was near. You’d always found him incredibly attractive, a silent, secret yearning simmering beneath the surface of your polite, neighborly interactions. But the brief, almost impersonal conversations you’d shared – about preferred cat food, the best local dry cleaner, the noise from the construction site down the street – had led you to believe that he saw you as nothing more than a friendly face in the hallway, a helpful neighbor. Certainly not someone he’d ever be interested in. 

But you couldn’t help it. Those stolen glimpses of him – carrying groceries, his strong hands gripping the bags, shirtless after he was out running or repairing his motorbike, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath the worn leather of his jacket – were seared into your memory, each a silent, secret fantasy. John Price, with the fine lines etched into his face by age and experience, the crinkles around his eyes whenever he smiled, the intense gaze that seemed to see right through you, the sometimes rough beard you longed to touch, the effortless kindness that radiated from him — he was everything the men you'd dated were not.

Still, he was a mystery, a silent, smoldering ember that had been slowly igniting a fire within you for months. A fire you’d diligently tried to extinguish, knowing, or rather believing, that it would never be reciprocated.

You hit send. 

Your stomach plummeted. No. Panic seized you, your heart pounding against your ribs like a trapped bird. You scrambled for your phone, your fingers damp, desperately trying to undo the unthinkable, but the dreaded "Delivered" notification appeared on the screen. 

Mortification washed over you, hot and stinging, a tidal wave of shame threatening to drown you in its intensity. You sank to the bathroom floor, naked and now shaking, the forgotten towel a crumpled heap beside you. The stinging cold bathroom tiles against your skin seemed to mock your misery, amplifying your sense of utter humiliation. Your breath hitched in your throat, a strangled sob escaping your lips.

The text had been delivered to John, not Josh from Tinder - your damned clumsy fingers hit the wrong recipient. 

Then, a soft vibration against your thigh. Your phone.

John: Well, hello there. I wasn't expecting this kind of payment for occasionally feeding your cat. 

A wave of heat flooded your cheeks, the blush burning against your skin. He was teasing you. Of course, he was. He was probably laughing at you, finding your blatant display of desperation pathetic. You wanted to disappear, to melt into the bathroom tiles and cease to exist.

You: oh my god, john. i am so incredibly sorry. this was a complete accident. wrong number!! i can’t believe this happened

John: An accident? How disappointing. I am rather enjoying the view.

You: i should have checked correctly. i’m so sorry

You: i'm so mortified

You: i’ll find someone else to look after Milo

You: i am so so sorry

John: Mortified? Don't be. You look beautiful. Breathtaking, actually.

You didn’t know what to say. Was he being serious? Or was he just toying with you, enjoying your discomfort? You couldn’t tell; his tone was so carefully neutral. Then, another text.

John: Lucky guy who was supposed to receive that photo. 

You: just another date. nothing special. who knows

You typed back, trying to sound nonchalant, but your fingers trembled on the keyboard.

John: Are they treating you right, at least?

The question, so unexpected, so caring , caught you off guard. A lump formed in your throat, and the casual encounters of the past few months suddenly felt even more hollow and meaningless than ever.

You: sometimes

You replied, just a single word,  yet it was heavy with unspoken longing for something better.

John: Tell me, what was the plan with that photo?

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. How could you explain the desperate want you felt sometimes, to be needed, to be loved, to be seen?

You: i don’t know… i just hoped it would make him want me 

The words tumbled out, raw and vulnerable.

John: Do you want to be wanted, love?

The question, so simple, so direct, pierced through your defenses, striking deep within you. Your body was aching for a touch that had always seemed just out of reach. You’d craved it, yes, the feeling of being wanted, of being desired, but the encounters you’d had, the fleeting moments of intimacy, had never truly satisfied that yearning.

Instead, they’d only left you feeling emptier, more alone.

You: yes

You cringed inwardly at the desperation you put forward without hesitation. There was a small silence before your phone buzzed again.

John: I’d kiss away the water drops from your sweet tits to show you just how much I’d want you.

Your eyes went wide, a blush, hot and intense, flooded your cheeks at his boldness. You certainly hadn’t expected a text like that . 

You took a deep breath.

He wasn’t just toying with you. He was serious. This wasn’t happening. Was it?

Another vibration of your phone.

John: Tell me what you want, love.

And then, the dam broke. All the pent-up desires, the unspoken longings, the secret fantasies you’d harbored for so long came pouring out in a torrent of words.

You: Your hands on me. Your mouth. Everywhere.

John: What a coincidence. I want to worship your gorgeous body.

You: I want to feel your lips on mine, your tongue exploring my mouth… 

A shiver ran down your spine as you typed the words, the image vivid in your mind.

John: Another coincidence, because I want to taste you, love. Every inch of you.

You: id lie if i said i have never thought about how you’d feel inside me before

You: you’d probably feel so good

Why did you tell him that? You didn’t know. The thought simply sent a wave of heat through your core. Any shame that was supposed to be there was long gone. 

John: Fuck. I wish you could feel how hard you make me.

You: i wish i could

The three dots appeared on the screen again, promising another text from him. You stared at them with an intensity that bordered on obsession, your heart pounding with anticipation. What would he say next? What would he do? The dots danced again, then vanished, leaving you suspended in silence.

A sudden, sharp knock on your door echoed through the quiet apartment, and your heart leapt. You scrambled to your feet, grabbing the towel and wrapping it hastily around yourself. 

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest and your hand hovering over the doorknob. Then, taking a deep breath, you slowly opened the door.

John Price. Filling your doorway, his eyes dark with a desire that mirrored your own, his breathing ragged. He didn’t speak, didn't give you time to even register his arrival completely – the second the door was open, he reached for you, pulling you against him, his lips crashing against yours in a hungry, demanding kiss that stole your breath away.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice rough against your lips, his hands roaming over your body, mapping every curve, every inch of exposed skin. 

“You feel that?” He murmured against your lips, grinding his hips against yours, his erection pressing hard against your stomach. “That’s all you, love.”

Your mind went blank. You couldn't speak, only moan softly as his lips trailed down your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin below your ear, his beard scratching the soft skin along the path. Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer, your fingers digging into the taut muscles beneath his shirt. You reached lower, grabbing him through his pants, desperate for more contact. He groaned, a low rumble of pure lust that echoed through you, making every nerve ending in your body sing.

“Mm, I’ve dreamt about touching you like this,” he groaned and pulled away, reaching behind him and closing the door, then carefully started walking forward while holding onto you, pushing you towards your bedroom with long strides, barely holding back himself. His hands were now ripping his clothes off and then your towel, leaving you completely naked in front of him – but you didn’t even register any of that. If you did, you probably wouldn’t care anyway.

He wasted no time, pushing you gently onto the bed, his body following quickly after. His weight was comforting and, at the same time, exhilarating. His lips found yours, hungry and demanding but with a tenderness that surprised you. It wasn't just lust; it was something more, something deeper. A connection you hadn't expected, but now, in this moment, felt undeniable. You kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands roaming over his back, feeling the muscles dance beneath his skin. 

It just felt right. Like a culmination of all the stolen glances, the unspoken desires, the secret admiration you'd harbored for so long.

Never in a million years had you thought he’d think about you the same way.

He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck again. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin. "So fucking perfect.” His words sent a shiver down your spine. No one had ever spoken to you like this, with such raw, unfiltered adoration. It made you feel beautiful, desirable, worthy in a way you hadn't before.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his gaze intense, drinking in the sight of your naked body beneath him. A blush crept up your neck, a mixture of shyness and excitement. Then, his gaze dropped lower, his eyes dark and hungry as he settled between your legs. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, anticipation coiling in your belly. His hands framed your hips, his fingers tracing the delicate skin of your inner thighs, sending shivers dancing across your skin. He leaned in, his warm breath ghosting over your core, making your muscles clench in anticipation. The tip of his tongue darted out, a tentative touch that sent a jolt of electricity straight to your clit. You gasped, your hips lifting involuntarily towards him. 

He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, and then he delved deeper, his mouth working its magic, his tongue and lips creating a symphony of sensations. 

He knew exactly what he was doing, his rhythm building, the pressure increasing, his tongue a skilled artist painting pleasure across your most sensitive flesh. “John,” you moaned, his name a breathy whisper escaping your lips, a plea for more. He hummed against you, a low, guttural sound of approval. You tangled your fingers in his hair, your nails scratching his scalp as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, each one more intense than the last. His tongue and lips worked tirelessly until your body tensed and balanced at the edge of release. 

And then, with a final, exquisite flick of his tongue, he sent you spiralling over the edge. You came hard, your body convulsing around his mouth, your cries unfiltered and shamelessly loud, a release so intense it left you breathless and trembling, your mind a blissful blank.

He rose, his eyes dark with satisfaction, a triumphant glint in their depths. Before he moved higher, though, his fingers dipped between your legs, testing your wetness. He brought his fingers to his lips, licking them slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. A warm thrill coursed through your body at the sight, a tingling sensation that ran along your spine. 

He leaned in, his body hovering over yours, his lips meeting yours in a deep, lingering kiss. You tasted yourself on his tongue, the flavor intoxicating, a tangible reminder of the pleasure he'd just brought you – the combination of the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm and the feel of his lips on yours, his taste mingled with your own, was almost too much to bear.

As his tongue explored your mouth, he moved between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance. With a soft groan, he pushed inside, slowly, carefully, his kiss deepening as he filled you. 

It was a perfect fit, a seamless joining of two bodies, punctuated by soft moans and your mingled breaths. 

And then, he began to move, his rhythm slow and steady, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, your moans soft against his lips. It was almost… loving. A gentle exploration, a tender dance between two lost souls connecting.

Suddenly, you felt his hands explore your folds, gently touching our clit, wandering down below where your bodies connected – before a finger pressed against your other hole – and your breath hitched. 

He seemed to notice your reaction and chuckled lightly. He stopped moving to look right into your eyes. “Tell me, did any of the Tinder boys ever fuck you here?” He put more pressure on your asshole, seeking entrance, and your entire world almost fell apart.

“No…,” you whispered, voice shaky. “No one ever has.”

“Good,” he growled, his voice thick with possessiveness. “Because I will, and I don't want anyone else touching you from this day forward. You're mine .”

He moved, his thrusts deep and powerful, his whispers raw and possessive, filling your ears with words of praise and adoration that made your heart ache with a happiness you’d never known. The way he moved within you, each thrust increasingly more intense – it was a declaration of his claim. You arched beneath him, your body molding to his, your moans a demonstration of the pleasure, echoing through the room. A heat bloomed within you, spreading through your limbs, pooling in your core, a fire ignited by his touch, his words, his sheer presence. 

You accepted your fate of being his, completely and utterly his, captured and taken - and yet in that moment, helpless and surrendered to the intoxicating power of his possession, you’d never felt so free .

He continued to thrust, his rhythm relentless, his body a perfect complement to yours, driving you closer and closer to the edge. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his back, your nails raking across his skin, leaving marks that mirrored the ones he was leaving on your soul. The world narrowed to the space between your bodies, the sound of your mingled breaths, the raw, unfiltered pleasure that was consuming you both.

Then, just as you felt yourself on the precipice of release, he pulled out, leaving you achingly empty, a void where his warmth and hardness had been just moments before. A whimper escaped your lips, a soft sound of protest, of longing. He turned you over, his hands gentle but firm, guiding you onto your stomach. A shiver of anticipation and a nervous thrill ran through you as you felt his breath hot against your ear, his voice a husky whisper that sent goosebumps rippling across your skin.

“Do you have any lube, love? I want this to be perfect for you.”

You nodded, barely able to point toward your nightstand. Your entire body trembled endlessly, not knowing if it came from pure arousal and lust or this unexplainable affection you felt towards him — how considerate he was with your pleasure and, more so, with your comfort. It left you speechless and breathless, exposed and bare, and longing to never come down from this high, no matter how hard the fall would eventually become. 

You silently cursed yourself and the universe for not letting you know there had been a connection between you so much earlier, so you could have been spared all the emptiness and loneliness the fleeting encounters with other men always left behind.

He reached for the nightstand drawer, pulling out a small tube of lubricant. He looked you directly in your eyes – it felt like an unspoken vow, a wordless agreement to give yourself to one another in the deepest possible sense. It felt utterly intimate – to let him , a man you were so painfully shy with just moments ago, perform such an act… how strange the universe worked – and how intensely right it all felt.

His touch was gentle as he lubricated his fingers, one after another, and then reached behind you – so carefully circling your puckered entrance, making you moan softly in surprise and wonder at the completely new feelings. It felt like being touched for the first time in places nobody ever cared to explore – let alone so masterfully gentle and knowing like this. A mix of strange anticipation, embarrassment, and the sheer thrill of being touched by this man sent shivers through your core.

“So fucking tight,” he murmured, pushing his first finger inside, slick with a mix of lube and your juices, so very gently at first. “Want me to fuck that pretty little hole, love?”

“Yes, please ,” you whined, sounding utterly desperate and shameless. With nobody before, you’d ever begged - yet with John, it slipped from your lips almost naturally. He chuckled, and his mouth twisted in a wicked smile, making your heart race.

He continued to prepare you, adding a second finger, slowly stretching you, his touch both firm and incredibly tender, your entire lower abdomen now twisting and pulling itself down in involuntary anticipation of being filled. You gasped, a small moan escaping from your lips. The feeling of being so tenderly explored made tears spring to your eyes. No one had ever treated you like this, with such reverence, such care. You put your head down on its side, trying to catch a glimpse of him, wondering why or how someone like John Price – the distant, mysterious neighbor who seemed to exist in a world of his own, someone who you deemed out of reach just an hour ago, now took such incredible, passionate care of you , making you feel precious . It was almost too much to handle, each gentle stroke making you feel more overwhelmed and wanted. It was everything you always fantasized about, what having a lover truly could feel like but never dared believe to be true. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” 

You gasped, your body convulsing, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. But it was a good pain, a delicious, welcome ache, a sensation unlike anything you’d ever experienced. He continued to explore your depths, stretching you, accustoming you to the unfamiliar feeling, his touch patient and understanding. His fingers slowly widened you, his movements deliberate and unhurried, giving you time to adjust, to relax into the sensation. All the while, his other hand was buried between your folds underneath you, and his thumb continued to caress your clit, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body, distracting you from any discomfort, replacing it with a growing anticipation.

“Tell me if it's too much,” he whispered. “I don't want to hurt you.”

His words, his tenderness, his concern for your pleasure, melted away the last of your apprehension. You moaned softly, over and over, your body arching against his touch, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you. 

Then suddenly, he withdrew his fingers, replacing them with the lubed head of his cock, pressing gently against your entrance. “Ready, love?”

You nodded, unable to speak, your heart pounding in your chest. He pushed inside, slowly, carefully, giving you time to adjust to his size, his fullness. You gasped, a small cry escaping your lips, but it wasn't pain, not exactly. It was a new sensation, intense and unfamiliar but somehow just right. He paused, waiting for you to relax, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your hip, his touch a silent reassurance. A feeling of belonging settled deep within you, a terrifying, exhilarating connection unfolding between you.

You knew, with certainty, that this would never be the same with anyone else.

He began to move, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency, his thrusts deep and powerful, filling you completely. You cried out, your voice a mixture of pleasure and surprise, your body arching against his, desperate for more. He whispered dirty praises against your skin, his words a heady mix of possessiveness and adoration, fueling the fire within you. “You're so fucking tight,” he groaned, “so perfect. All mine.”

With another groan, he pulled you flush against his chest, his arm wrapping tightly around your body, his large hand cupping your breasts, pressing you against him. He held you there and continued to move, but the rhythm changed, becoming a desperate, needy grinding, his hips pushing against yours, the friction building, the intensity escalating. You whimpered again, your head falling back against his shoulder, lost in the overwhelming sensations. It was too much, too intense, too good . You didn’t even know what was real anymore. All you knew was him , the feel of his body against yours, the sound of his breath and his growls in your ear, the raw, unfiltered pleasure that was consuming you.

His other hand moved between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, circling, rubbing, adding to the already overwhelming pleasure. You arched your back, your body writhing against his, your moans growing louder, more desperate. He added two fingers to your slick heat, swirling and stretching you, sending shocks of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. You cried out his name, over and over, lost in the sensations, lost in him.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, “just like that, love. Take it all.”

You shattered, your body convulsing around him, cries mingling with his groans in a symphony of pure, unadulterated pleasure. The release was an explosion of sensation so intense it left you breathless, trembling, mind blissfully blank. He continued to grind against you, each thrust echoing the receding waves of your orgasm. Then, he went still, holding you so tightly against him you forgot how to breathe. The sensation of him pulsating deep inside you, buried within your ass, was exquisitely intimate. It was a connection so profound, so utterly consuming; it sent another ripple of pleasure through your still-sensitive nerves. You felt the warmth of his release, a shared intimacy that brought tears to your eyes. Teeth nipped at your shoulder, followed by a growl that bordered on animalistic, a raw expression of his own pleasure. 

You clung to him, your fingers digging into his arm, holding yourself as close as physically possible as he shuddered through his climax. It was a moment of such raw vulnerability, such complete surrender. 

For a fleeting second, a flicker of fear sparked within you – the fear of losing this connection, this incredible intimacy. 

But he didn't let go. The expected detachment, the sudden chill of loneliness, didn't happen. Instead, he held you close, almost protectively, his arms wrapped tightly around you. His lips brushed against your ear. “You're incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “So fucking incredible.”

His words were a balm to your soul. He hadn't discarded you like the others. He held you as if you were precious, as if you were something to be treasured. You turned in his arms, burying your face in his chest. A warmth spread through you, a deep, abiding sense of peace you hadn’t realized you’d been craving. 

Fear whispered that you were overstepping, that this closeness was too much, too soon, but his arms held you captive.

The self-doubt that had plagued you for so long, the insecurities that had whispered insidious lies in your ear, the ghosts of endless, disappointing dates and fleeting encounters – all of it washed away, cleansed by his touch, his words, his sheer adoration. You held onto him, clinging to him as if he were a lifeline, the only solid thing in a world that had become fluid and uncertain. 

A playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “So,” you murmured against his chest, your voice still shaky, “does this mean I can repay you like this for cat-sitting more often?”

He kissed your temple, a tender gesture that sent a wave of warmth through you. “Love,” he whispered against your hair, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against your skin, “Not that it matters, but I'd fuck you for free.” He chuckled. 

“As often as you'll let me." He paused, his breath warm against your ear, and added, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. "In fact, I have a feeling I'm going to need to. And want to. A lot." He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours, a possessiveness simmering in their depths. "What's mine," he whispered, his voice low and intense, "is mine."

His words were dark, almost dangerous, but the way he said them, the intensity in his voice, the possessiveness in his gaze, made something deep within you stir.

Belonging. It was a dream you'd almost given up on, a fantasy that had faded with each meaningless date, each disappointing encounter. 

His thumb gently stroked your cheek. “You said those other… dates … they only sometimes treat you right?”

His words, soft yet pointed, pricked at the carefully constructed wall around your heart. You swallowed, suddenly shy again. They… they don’t see me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m just… a body.” You hesitated, then continued, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I miss… talking. Laughing. Being held. Someone who looks at me like… like you just did.”

His face softened, and he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Then let me show you how you deserve to be treated.”

“Are you going to stay?” you whispered, the question barely audible, scared of his reaction.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze holding yours intensely. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed, your fingers finding the short strands of hair at his nape.

“What about your date?”

“You’re better than any date is ever going to be,” you said, the conviction in your voice surprising even yourself. “I never thought you’d… like me this way,” you whispered. 

“I always have,” he confessed, his thumb tracing the outline of your lower lip. “I’ve been dreaming about kissing these lips every time you smile at me in the hallway.” He paused, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “That photo… might have been your best mistake ever."

You smiled a genuine, happy smile that reached your eyes. “Keep it,” you whispered, your heart swelling with a joy that felt excitingly new. “And maybe... send me one back sometime?”

He grinned, a flash of heat in his eyes. “I'll see what I can do.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, his beard prickling against your skin. “Now,” he murmured, “where were we?”

[melpcmene-a]

tags part nine:

[ the firefighter — answered ]

[ the firefighter — thread ]

[ the firefighter — musings ]

[ the firefighter — aesthetics ]

[ the firefighter — desire ]

[ the firefighter — verse: 911 ]

[ the guardian — answered ]

[ the guardian — thread ]

[ the guardian — musings ]

[ the guardian — aesthetics ]

[ the guardian — desire ]

[ the guardian — verse: black-cloaked envoy ]

[ the archivist — answered ]

[ the archivist — thread ]

[ the archivist — musings ]

[ the archivist — aesthetics ]

[ the archivist — desire ]

[ the archivist — verse: torchwood 3 ]

[frostimochi]

second best

(logan howlett x reader)

summary: You and Logan are both in love with people completely out of reach. After a seemingly innocent joke made for you and him to get together, the two of you brush it off. But as days pass, the idea seems less ridiculous. Then one night, Logan approaches you, finally agreeing to the idea--and what starts as a fake relationship soon takes an unexpected turn.

word count: 17.6k chapter count: 10/10 (finished!) author’s note: ok this is my very first time posting any media i've made on tumblr...i can't guarantee i'll do it again, but i will def be writing more on my ao3 account if you wish to see more! this is also a mix of the x-men films and x-men ‘97 for context. it's a bit rushed but i hope you all enjoy! :)

chapter 1 - what we carry

The night was tense. Clouds of smoke, smoldering debris choked the air, and the distant sound of sirens echoed through the city. It was another X-Men mission coming to an end. You crouched low behind the crumbling remnants of an abandoned building, your heart hammering in your chest as you peeked around the corner. Flames flickered in the distance, casting shadows across the deserted street.

But you weren’t alone; Logan crouched beside you, eyes sharp and focused, his senses tuned into the slightest movement in the darkness. He grunted softly, the usual gruff in his voice present, even when he whispered. "They’re circling around. We need to move."

You nodded, adrenaline still coursing through your veins after the battle that had nearly gone sideways. The mission had been simple enough on paper, but nothing ever went as planned in the field. What was supposed to be a routine infiltration turned into an all-out firefight when the enemy showed up in greater numbers than anticipated.

"Stick close," Logan added, his eyes flicking to yours for just a moment, a brief concern crossing his usually impassive face. "You good, bub?"

"Yeah, I’m fine," you lied, already feeling the dull ache in your side from where you’d taken a glancing blow. You could push through it, just like you always did. This wasn’t your first mission, and it certainly wouldn’t be your last. But the fatigue was beginning to weigh on you, not just from the fight, but from everything else—specifically, your own personal endeavors from a few days back.

You and Remy have gotten awfully close. Closer than you probably should have allowed. But he was still wrapped up with someone else, and that reality gnawed at you. The thought lingered as you and Logan crept forward. It wasn’t just the mission weighing on you tonight.

As the two of you moved through the shadows, working your way toward the extraction point, your thoughts only continued stranding to Remy. The way he’d effortlessly deflected attacks earlier, how his movements were always so fluid and confident. You couldn’t help but admire him, desire him. A familiar pang hit your chest, knowing the truth deep down; he only had eyes for Marie.

Just like Logan only seemed to have eyes for Jean.

The thought made you glance at Logan, who was scanning the area ahead. Even now, you knew he was thinking about her, about Jean. The woman who could never be his, no matter how much he wanted her. In the end, you were both stuck in this endless cycle of wanting someone who was just out of reach.

The extraction point wasn’t far, but just as you neared it, a gunshot cracked through the air. You flinched, instinctively ducking as Logan pushed you back against the wall, his body shielding yours.

"Stay down," he growled, his claws extending with a sharp snikt. He didn’t hesitate, charging toward the threat before you could react. The sound of a struggle echoed through the alleyway as you pressed a hand to your side, wincing.

By the time you caught up, Logan had already taken care of the attacker, standing over him with a dark look in his eyes. His claws retracted as he wiped the blood off his knuckles with a grimace.

"Let’s get the hell out of here," he muttered, his voice low. 

You didn’t argue, following him in silence as you both slipped into the shadows, heading for the jet. You were the last few to escape, as the night felt colder, with the exhaustion hitting you full force as the adrenaline began to fade.

. . .

Later, as the two of you sat in the dimly lit jet, silence stretched between you and Logan. The mission was over, but the weight of everything else from your physical pain, to personal life still stuck at the back of your mind. You leaned back in your seat, staring out the window as the city disappeared beneath the clouds.

"You alright, Y/N?" Logan’s voice broke the silence, his gaze still on you, seeing you still holding onto your side.

"Yeah," you replied, though the aching pain had gotten worse, and your thoughts still scattered. But you knew he wasn’t asking about the mission.

"Doesn’t seem like it," he remarked, a knowing edge to his tone. “You’re awfully quiet.”

You looked over at him, unsure if you wanted to brush it off or actually talk about what was on your mind. 

"I don’t know, Logan," you admitted quietly. "Everything just feels... off lately.”

His eyebrows furrowed in questioning, as you continued. You didn’t feel any reason in hiding it anymore, since there wasn't anything left you could do at this point. The fatigue didn’t help either. Processing a single thought was a different pain on its own.

“Just wishin’ Remy looked at me the same way as Rogue.” you replied in a soft-spoken whisper. 

He didn’t respond right away, just leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment.

"You’re not the only one," Logan finally said, his voice low and rough. "Sometimes it feels like I’m just also going through the motions, you know?”

He paused.

 “Jean... she’s never gonna look at me the way I want her to. Not while she’s with Scott."

"You ever get tired of it?" you asked suddenly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. Logan looked over at you, one eyebrow raised.

“Of what?”

“Wanting someone you know you’ll never have?”

Logan let out a low, almost bitter laugh, leaning back in his seat. "More than you know. But it’s not exactly something I can just turn off, you know? Not in my nature."

"Yeah, well, easier said than done," you muttered, trying to shrug it off. "I have bad luck with these things.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, just watched you with that quiet intensity of his, noticing what others overlooked. You could feel his eyes on you, the weight of his presence grounding you, in a way that Remy’s never had.

"Luck’s overrated," Logan said finally, his voice low and steady. "We make our own way without it."

Another beat of silence passed, the air thick with everything left unsaid. But something about the quiet was comfortable now. You weren’t alone in your hurt anymore, and neither was he.

"We’re a real messed up bunch, huh?" you said, forcing a small laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Logan smirked, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah. A real bunch of idiots.”

You silently nodded in agreement, the heaviness in your chest finally settling. You both sat there, the weight of your unspoken heartaches still lingering in the room. It was strange how easy it was to talk to Logan about it, but you knew he understood it quite well. To want someone so badly, yet know you could never have them.

Maybe that's why, despite the exhaustion, despite the pain and confusion, you could finally let yourself close your eyes, knowing that even though you couldn’t have everything you wanted, at least you had this moment. This understanding. And maybe that was something worth holding onto. For now. 

chapter 2 - what we seek

Back at the mansion, things had settled back into a familiar routine. The mission was behind you, but it didn’t stop the heartache for Gambit slipping back in. The lingering feeling always felt like a stab in the chest, a constant reminder of what you couldn’t have.

The truth is, it was supposed to happen. You and Remy had planned it out several nights ago: a quiet, simple evening away from the team, just the two of you. There had been moments; rare, unguarded looks from him that had felt like a promise, a hint of something more. You’d felt it, that same, exhilarating thrill that always seemed just within reach, and for once, you’d let yourself believe in the possibility of something more. But in the end, the odds never seemed to work out in your favor. He stood you up, and was later found reconnecting, rekindling his love with another woman from his past.

Rogue. Marie. 

You had nothing against her—hell, you admired her deeply, and spoke with her several times outside of missions and training. You were sure she didn’t know about what had been happening between you and Remy. You couldn’t deny they were both drawn together in a way that was undeniable, magnetic. Whatever was between you and him had been put aside. You knew it would never compare.

In the end, it was easier to keep to yourself, easier to pretend nothing had changed, but the pain of wanting something just out of reach, kept you from finding any real peace. And in those moments, you found yourself drifting, walking the halls of the X-Mansion at odd hours, going places where you knew no one else would be.

One of those nights, you stumbled to grab any kind of sustenance. The kitchen was quiet, as you poured yourself a late-night drink. A few footsteps from behind broke the chaos of thoughts bursting in your mind, and you turned to see Morph entering with their usual grin. They slid onto a stool, giving you a once-over with exaggerated curiosity.

“So... heard you and Wolverine had a heart-to-heart last night,” they said, a smirk forming.

You rolled your eyes, setting the bottle down, visually annoyed. “Does anyone around here not know everyone else’s business?”

Morph shrugged, leaning back in their seat. “Hey, it's not my fault the walls are thin.”

You let out a sigh, swirling your drink absentmindedly. "And what does everyone think they know, exactly?"

Morph grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. "Not much... just that two lonely souls found a little solace in each other’s company after a rough mission." They paused, quivering an eyebrow. "Did I miss anything?"

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. "Sometimes, Morph, you’re worse than the tabloids."

"All I'm saying," they continued, "is that sometimes we get so caught up in what we can’t have, that we miss what’s right there."

Raising an eyebrow, you took a sip of your drink. It burned through your throat as you slammed it back down on the table. You took a heavy breath before responding. “Oh? Enlighten me.”

“You and Logan should get together. Problem solved.” Morph crossed their arms, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Right,” you snorted, but his comment gnawed at you. “And how exactly would that solve anything?”

Morph just grinned, tilting their head thoughtfully. “Well, think about it. You two already get each other. You're both in love with people who are already taken. So why not take some of that stress off? Might as well team up and have a pity party together.” 

“Funny,” you replied dryly. “But Logan and I both know where we stand. We don’t need to complicate things further.”

Morph leaned in, their playful smirk never wavering. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You’re telling me you’d rather mope around with this crush on a guy who can’t even remember your name when Rogue’s in the room? That’s some next level torture.”

You shot them a glare, trying to ignore how his words cut a little too close to home. “I’m not moping. I’m just—”

“Just what?” they interrupted, leaning back with feigned innocence. “Waiting for Gambit to realize he made a mistake? Please. At this point, he probably thinks you’re just his backup plan.”

“That’s not fair,” you snapped, your voice sharp. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“Sure I do,” Morph replied, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve got the whole tragic love story going on. It’s like a soap opera, only less exciting. So why not shake things up? You and Logan could make quite the team. Brooding heartthrob meets the queen of unrequited love? It’s practically a rom-com waiting to happen.”

They chuckled, and before you knew it, he morphed into the Wolverine himself. They adopted his brooding, eyebrow furrowing expression, capturing his essence flawlessly. “So, Y/N,” They said in a low, gravelly voice, “still hung up on Gambit? You know he’s not exactly waiting around for you, right?”

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your composure. “You’re really going to keep this up, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” they replied, their expression a mix of seriousness and playfulness. “Why settle for someone who’s already got his eyes on Rogue when you could be with someone who actually sees you? Like me.”

“If only the real Logan could see you now. You wouldn’t last a second if he was here,” you quipped.

 “He’d probably give me a high five for finally getting you to lighten up.”

“Sure, right before he throws you out the window,” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly. “Even if Logan and I bothered to give each other a chance, it's just another excuse for some love-hexagoned drama for the students to feign on.”

“Hexagon? I thought this was more of a straight line,” Morph said, shrugging playfully, returning back to their form. “How much longer are you going to let Gambit’s rejection keep you down?”

You sighed, feeling the weight of their words. “I don’t know, Morph. I’m still trying to figure out my feelings for Remy, and you know how complicated things are with Marie in the picture.”

Morph leaned in closer, their expression softening a bit. “Look, I get it. It’s a mess, but you can’t just let it stop you from exploring something new. What’s the harm in talking to the wolverine? You might be surprised.”

“Talking to Logan?” you repeated, rolling your eyes. “What’s that going to do? I’m not looking for a rebound or a distraction. I’m not that kind of gal.”

“Just a chat,” they insisted, his voice lightening again. “You never know. Maybe you’ll find out that you have more in common with him, more than just a mutual crush on unavailable people.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes, getting up from your seat. “I appreciate the pep talk, but I’m not ready for that right now. I need to deal with my own stuff first.”

Morph crossed their arms, the grin returning. “Fair enough, but just know I’m here, waiting, when you’re ready to make your move.”

“Thanks, but really, let’s just drop it for now,” you said, feeling a bit lighter in thought as you made your way out of the kitchen.

As you walked through the familiar halls of the X-Mansion up to your room, Morph’s words were still in your head. They had a point, no matter how much you denied it. Maybe this was something you needed, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

What could possibly go wrong?

chapter 3 - what we plan

The X-Mansion had another afternoon buzzed with its usual energy, the sounds of training and laughter echoing through the halls. You found comfort in your routine, but your thoughts often drifted back to Morph’s words from a few days back. Yet, every time you found yourself lost in those thoughts, a rush of uncertainty would follow.

After an intense training session, you retreated to the common room, seeking solace in the company of your teammates. As you entered, you spotted Logan across the room, leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he talked to Jean. Even bothering to talk about what Morph said to you with him was pointless. He had his own things to deal with, if it wasn’t clear enough.

You grabbed a nearby magazine, your eyes skimming the pages, but your mind wandered elsewhere. You recalled Morph’s words, their constant suggestion that you should pursue something with Logan. It felt too foolish to consider now. He had his own problems, and his own, personal interests. 

As you tried to concentrate on the text, you caught snippets of their conversation. Jean laughed at something Logan said, and your heart sank a little. You shifted in your seat, pretending to be engrossed in the magazine while you tried to make sense of your feelings. Was it even worth pursuing something with Logan, or was it just a fleeting thought sparked by Morph's teasing?

Lost in thought, you barely noticed the hours pass, and the only person left in the room was you. It was late. You threw the magazine back on the couch, and decided to head back to your room, making your way up the stairs. As you walked down the hall, you suddenly bumped into Logan, who was on his way back down.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You okay, bub?”

“Yeah, just didn’t see you coming,” you replied, trying to mask your heart pounding out of your chest.

He offered a small smirk, his expression softening. “You’re awfully lost in thought lately. What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. Should you mention Morph’s suggestion? Or the nagging feeling that there could be something more between you two? Instead, you shrugged lightly. “Just the usual stuff...training, missions, you know how it is.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “You sure–?”

“Yeah, well,” you interrupted, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, “there's a lot on my mind.”

He studied you for a moment, those intense hazel eyes piercing right through. “You wanna talk about it?”

The weight of his gaze continued to send your heart racing. 

This was it. You could either keep running from your thoughts or just finally spit it out.

 “I was thinking about what Morph said to me a few nights ago.”

A flicker of curiosity crossed Logan's face. “Morph? What’d that hellspawn say this time?”

You bit your lip, gathering your thoughts. “He mentioned us. Getting together. It’s ridiculous, I know.” The words tumbled out before you could stop yourself, leaving you feeling quite awkward. You tried presenting yourself enamored by crossing your arms and looking casual, but anyone could see right through that it was taking a toll on you.

Logan’s eyebrows furrowed, and paused for a moment, taking it into thought. He then let out a soft chuckle.

 “Y/N, don’t let Morph’s nonsense mess with your head. They're just trying to stir the pot, like always.”

You bit your lip, still unconvinced. It took him that long to form his sentence? You assumed the both of you were just not in the mood to discuss it, which was partially true. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It just had me thinking it over so much, that I–”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand, his expression shifting to one of playful exasperation. “Seriously, don’t overthink it. We’ve got enough to deal with without getting tangled up in that kind of drama.” 

And that was that. In the end, maybe it was a stupid idea after all. He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a nod of reassurance as he walked back off.

You took a deep breath, attempting to collect yourself as you reached the top floor when you stopped dead in your tracks. There he was. Remy, standing there, hands in pockets just right in your way, with his usual playful smirk softened by something unreadable in his expression. He straightened up when he saw you, his eyes flickering that made your heart clench.

"Chère," he greeted, voice low and smooth, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond with the same warmth you usually did.

“Remy,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even, standing still. Though, your emotions stirred uneasily beneath the surface. After everything that had happened, after he’d stood you up and had made the decision to be with someone else, you couldn’t ignore the pang of frustration gnawing at you.

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to steady yourself, but the words you’d been rehearsing came spilling out faster than you expected. "Have you figured out what I mean to you yet?”

His easy smile faltered, and he looked away for a second before meeting your gaze again, regret shadowing his eyes. “Y/N, it ain't like that. I never wanted to hurt ya...”

“But you did, didn’t you?” The question hung between you, heavy and thick with the nights he’d promised and didn’t show, the times you’d let yourself believe he might actually feel the same way.

His hand reached out, but you pulled back before he could touch you. "I waited for you, Remy. I thought—” You trailed off, hating the vulnerability in your voice, but there was no point hiding it now. “I thought we had something.”

He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck, frustration clear in his stance. “Y/N, you mean a lot t’ me, but Marie... she’s somethin’ I just can’t let go of. She’s always been there in a way I can’t explain.”

You swallowed hard, nodding slowly, the ache in your chest settling as a numbness began to take its place. “I see.”

“No, chère,” he protested softly, stepping closer, his expression earnest. “I care for ya, but Rogue... she’s part o’ me.” He shook his head, struggling to find the right words, but they felt like nothing more than just empty echoes.

In the silence that followed, you took a step back, pressing your arms around yourself to hold together the pieces of your heart that felt like they were splintering apart.

"Fine. Let’s just pretend it never happened."

With that, you turned and left him standing there, resisting the urge to look back. If you stayed, you’d only keep finding yourself hoping for something that would never be. Remy reached out as if to stop you, but you turned, stepping away before he could say anything more, with your footsteps echoing against the quiet walls of the mansion. You were done letting yourself be second place.

As you reached for your door, you took a shaky breath, attempting to swallow the wave of emotions that had been threatening to burst free. You’d tried for so long to keep those feelings buried, to push them aside and pretend that things didn’t affect you as much as they did. But tonight, it felt impossible. You would do anything to get back at him, just as he did to you.

Just as you were about to turn the doorknob and enter your room, a voice behind you broke the silence. “You sure you’re alright?”

Startled by his voice, you turned, finding Logan standing there.

He’d seen it, hadn’t he? The hurt, the anger, what had just happened a few moments earlier...he couldn’t have just let it go unnoticed.

As you stood there, still reeling from your conversation with Remy, Logan’s voice broke through your thoughts. His tone was unusually gentle, his gaze fixed on you.

“I, uh, heard some of that back there,” he admitted, his voice low. “...Kinda hard not to.”

You nodded, letting out a sigh of defeat. “Yeah...”

Logan took a moment to steady himself, his expression shifting as he gathered himself before speaking again. “So, you’re done waiting around for him to make up his mind?”

“Completely done,” you replied, crossing your arms. “I’m tired of this backup shit.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like Gambit and Jean could use a wakeup call...” His tone turned mischievous, and you could almost see the thoughts racing behind his eyes. “You up for causing a little trouble?”

“What do you have in mind?” you asked, intrigued.

Was he actually reconsidering what you told him?

“You know... I thought about what Morph said to you, after hearing all that earlier,” he admitted, looking a bit conflicted. “At first, I figured it really was just them stirring the pot, trying to rile us up. But then...” He trailed off, rubbing a hand over his jaw, clearly gathering his thoughts. “Then I started thinking that maybe they were onto something.”

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected confession. Logan, of all people, wasn’t one open to change, let alone do something like this.

 “If they want to ignore what’s right in front of them, maybe they need a reason to think twice. We show up, give ‘em a taste of what it feels like to be on the outside looking in. You and me... pretending we’re hitting it off.”

Your eyes widened.

 It was simple, maybe a bit petty, but the thought of flipping the tables felt too satisfying. And this was an opportunity that might never come again.

 “So, you’re saying... we should act like we’re into each other?”

“Exactly,” he replied. “A few meaningful looks and some well timed moments. It’ll have them second guessing everything they thought they knew about us.”

“Tempting,” you admitted, still in thought about wanting to go with this crazy idea, but still hesitant on what could happen from it. You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Okay, I’m in. But we need to set some ground rules; no crossing lines, and we keep it strictly for show.”

“Deal.” Logan extended his hand, and you shook it, sealing the agreement with a firm grip.

. . .

As you settled into bed that night, you stared up at the ceiling, replaying the day’s events in your mind. The idea sounded nice at first, and maybe it was originally Morph playing along, trying to play matchmaker. But now it was official. 

And you had no idea what you were about to get yourself into. 

chapter 4 - what we act

You woke up to the muted light of morning, filtering through the curtains. Your mind was already racing with thoughts of the day ahead. Today, you’d be putting the plan into action with Logan, and the uncertainty tormented you. How would it feel to pretend to be something you weren't? Taking a deep breath, you got out of bed, bracing yourself for whatever might unfold.

Making your way to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, you hoped to dodge any awkward encounters, but there he was. Logan stood at the counter, stirring coffee with an unreadable expression as he leaned against the counter, lost in thought.

As soon as he noticed you, a small smirk played on his lips, something almost conspiratorial. “Mornin’,” he said casually, but there was a spark in his eye that hadn’t been there before.

 He definitely had something in mind. 

“Morning,” you replied, trying to play it cool as you grabbed a glass of water. The room felt heavy with unspoken tension, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but feel a bit self conscious under his stare.

Logan set down his mug, his expression shifting to something slightly more serious. “You still up for this?” he asked, voice low, and quiet enough that no one else would overhear.

You took a deep breath, giving a decisive nod.

A moment later, you heard footsteps in the hallway, followed by the unmistakable sound of Jean’s laughter. Logan gave you a subtle nod, the silent signal that it was time to begin. You took a step closer to him, glancing up through your lashes just enough to catch his eye.

He responded immediately, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in, his hands lingering beneath the hem of your pants, just enough for the warmth of his touch to spread over you like a shockwave. “Play along,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

You tried to settle your heartbeat as the footsteps grew closer. Jean and Scott rounded the corner, stopping abruptly when they saw the two of you standing so close, Logan’s arm around you, that spoke of something far more than friendship. You saw the flicker of surprise on Jean’s face, quickly masked with a forced smile, and a hint of something else in Scott’s usual stoic expression.

“Oh,” Jean said, voice a touch higher than usual, “Good morning, you two.”

Logan just nodded, that small, mischievous smile barely hidden. “Mornin’, Jean. Scott.”

Jean’s gaze flicked between you two, as though trying to piece together how she’d missed this...development. Her eyes lingered on you, a flash of something unreadable crossing her face, and you had to resist the urge to smirk. You were definitely giving them both something to think about.

Scott cleared his throat, trying to break the strange silence. “Didn’t realize... you two were so close.”

Logan’s arm tightened around you just a bit. “Well, there’s a lot people don’t realize,” he replied smoothly. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you, and the flicker of jealousy in Jean’s eyes told you it wasn’t lost on her either. You were tensed up in his embrace, and it didn’t help that your body was heating up right at that moment. Your throat was suddenly dry, struggling to utter a single word.

Scott's eyes shifted between you and Logan, his normally composed expression giving way to slight discomfort. Jean, on the other hand, tried to maintain her composure, but you could see the question in her eyes, the slight arch of her brow as if she was piecing things together.

“Well,” Jean said, attempting a breezy tone, “it’s... nice to see everyone getting along.” But her gaze had more to elaborate, the forced smile not quite reaching her eyes.

“Yeah, who knew?” Logan replied, his smirk turning just a little more smug as he pulled you closer. He was playing it up perfectly, and the look of surprise on both their faces was strangely satisfying.

Scott gave a polite nod, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the scene. “Right. Well, don’t let us interrupt.”

With that, he turned, gesturing for Jean to follow him down the hall. As they walked away, she cast one last glance over her shoulder, her expression unreadable but unmistakably intrigued.

When they were out of your vision, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Logan finally released you, a satisfied look in his eyes.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he said, his tone teasing, still laced with an undercurrent of seriousness.

“Yeah, but this was just a warm up,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face despite the nerves churning in your stomach. “We’re going to have to keep going with this...show of ours.”

“Just keep it casual, and we’ll be fine.” Logan replied, getting up from his chair. He didn’t step away immediately, though; the space between you felt more charged than it had any right to be. His hand lingered again. This time, near yours on the counter, close enough that you could feel the warmth, and for a fleeting moment, it was quite easy to forget that this was all just for show.

You cleared your throat, shifting back slightly, giving yourself some breathing room. “Right, casual,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. 

The silence stretched, comfortable but weighted, almost feeling the unspoken change in his gaze.

“You’re overthinking it,” he murmured, his eyes glinting with a familiar spark. “If you keep acting like it’s a big deal, they’ll notice.”

You felt a slight heat creep up your neck, but shrugged it off. “I’m not overthinking,” you shot back, attempting to keep your tone light. “Just making sure I’m... convincing.”

He stepped a little closer, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Convincing? More like being stiff.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Not true.”

“Y/N, you looked like you had a stick up your ass.”

“I’m doing my best, okay? It doesn’t just happen overnight.”

Logan’s expression stayed steady. “Good,” he said, his voice softer but still direct. “That’s all we need.”

You took a breath, nodding slowly, feeling the weight of his words. “It’s just... a lot to think about.”

“Then don’t overthink it,” he replied with a slight grin. “We’re just giving them a show. Keep it simple, don’t force anything. They’ll see what they want to see.”

You nodded, only then remembering that once again, you had to continue this show of yours. You and Logan would be heading out on a mission tonight, with you alongside him. Together. They hadn’t told you who else would be joining, which left a gash of uncertainty in the pit of your stomach.

“Right, the mission,” you replied, trying to shake off any leftover tension. “No pressure, right?”

Logan chuckled softly, “No pressure at all. Just another night making sure no one dies.”

“Yeah,” you took a small breath, a smile breaking through your nerves. “And pretending to be in a relationship.”

“Remember to keep it simple,” he reminded you, a tease in his tone, while on your gaze before he walked off. “And maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you take the lead.”

 A knot of anxiety formed in your stomach as he left you alone in the kitchen. The mission ahead felt daunting enough, and the thought of maintaining the pretense of a relationship with him sent your mind racing. 

This wasn’t going to be so easy.

chapter 5 - what we suppress 

The evening air was cool and crisp as you made your way to the X-jet with Logan, Scott, and Marie, who was adjusting her gloves in silence. Scott’s gaze was steady, his expression all business, but you caught the slight hesitation as his eyes passed over you and Logan. Logan noticed too, throwing a quick, almost smug grin Scott’s way as he placed a casual hand on your shoulder. The warmth of his touch caught you off guard, but you willed yourself to keep a neutral expression, feeling the cool, easy role settling over you.

Marie, catching the gesture out of the corner of her eye, raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. If anything, the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips, like she knew something Scott didn’t. Scott, meanwhile, looked at Logan and then back at you with an expression somewhere between surprise and doubt, but he stayed quiet.

“Alright, listen up,” Scott began, folding his arms as he launched into the mission brief. “Intel indicates there’s a cache of prototype weapons and possibly experimental compounds stashed in the warehouse. Marie and I will sweep the perimeter. Logan, you will take the inner corridor. Y/N, secure the samples if you find any. We need evidence, so keep it quiet, keep it subtle, and stay on comms.”

“Understood,” Logan replied, the lazy smirk still lingering as he squeezed your shoulder for effect. You fought back the urge to shove him off, partly because his touch felt oddly...reassuring, but mostly because Scott’s slight frown felt like its own kind of victory. And seeing it any longer would make you cry of laughter. 

The X-jet lifted off, slicing through the night sky. You shifted your attention to watching your surroundings, taking a seat besides Logan, glancing at Scott who began to outline the plan once more.

“Alright, everyone. We’ll be approaching the warehouse in ten minutes. Rogue and I will cover the perimeter while you two head inside. Stay alert,” Scott instructed.

“Roger that,” Logan replied. “You just make sure to keep those laser eyes to yourself.”

“Very funny,” Scott shot back, his tone dry. “Focus on the mission, Logan.”

As the jet soared through the clouds, you glanced at Logan, who wore a smirk that could only be described as infuriatingly charming. “So,” he said, leaning closer. “You ready?”

“Yeah. Guess I'm being your emotional support tonight,” you uttered in a sarcastic manner. It happened almost naturally; turning your mind off to focus on what was ahead, you couldn’t deny it helped your case. “Someone has to keep you in check.”

“Good luck with that,” he retorted with a chuckle. “But I have to admit, having you by my side makes this whole mission a lot more interesting.”

“Glad to hear I can spice up your life, Logan,” you replied, trying to match his nonchalance. “Just don’t get too distracted by my presence.”

“Ah, you must be talking about your ability to look cute while doing nothing.”

You couldn’t help yourself but have a big smirk plastered on your face. “I can assure you, I’ll be doing plenty of ‘nothing’ while you’re busy kicking ass.”

Scott’s voice cracked through, his tone annoyed. “Are you two done flirting? We’re almost at the drop zone.”

“He’s right,” Marie chimed in with a sly grin, glancing over her shoulder at the two of you. “Save the romance for after we’re done.”

Logan’s smirk only grew as he leaned back, crossing his arms. “Don’t worry, Anne. It’s just mission talk. Mostly.”

The jet began its descent, and you felt the subtle shift in atmosphere as everyone went into mission mode. As soon as you touched down, the team moved quickly. Rogue and Scott split off to cover the perimeter as planned, disappearing into the shadows around the warehouse. Logan gave you a quick nod before signaling toward the side entrance, both of you slipping quietly inside.

The place was dark and still, the distant hum of machinery faint in the air. Logan took the lead, moving with a quiet precision that belied his usual rough demeanor. You stayed close, eyes scanning every corner, trying to ignore the fact that he was keeping just a little closer than necessary.

The comms crackled in your ear. “Y/N, Logan, we’re in position,” Scott’s voice came through, steady and calm. “Any movement?”

“Negative,” you whispered back. “Place is dead quiet so far.”

As you moved further into the building, a tense silence settled between you and Logan. He slowed, gesturing for you to check a nearby door while he kept watch. You edged forward, opening it just wide enough to peer inside. The room was packed. Crates, steel tables, shelves lined with sleek weapons and unknown tech. Jackpot.

“Found something,” you whispered into the comm. “Looks like prototype weapons, maybe more.”

“Copy that,” Marie replied. “Get what you can. Scott and I are still clear.”

You quickly snapped photos of the equipment, putting smaller prototypes in your pockets while Logan kept his gaze fixed on the corridor. But as you finished, footsteps echoed down the hallway, breaking the stillness. You froze, eyes darting to Logan, who signaled for you to keep low. You quickly ducked behind one of the tables, as he slid beside you.

“Company.” you murmured.

Logan gave a subtle nod, resting a steady hand over your lips as a signal to keep calm. His fingers lingered for a beat, sparking a warmth you tried to ignore, forcing your attention back to the sounds approaching.

Scott’s voice crackled in your ear. “Status?”

Logan cast you a sideways glance. “Just a little activity. We’re fine.”

The shadow of a guard passed just outside the doorway, pausing for a tense moment. You held your breath, clutching the edge of the table to keep from shifting, as Logan’s hand brushed yours in silent reassurance. The faint metallic clink of the guard’s gear sent a shiver up your spine.

The sound of boots hitting concrete grew louder. Guards. Too many to take head-on, especially in such a confined space. Logan’s sharp eyes darted around before locking onto a supply closet a few feet away. Without hesitation, he pulled you toward it, tugging the door open just wide enough for the both of you to slip inside.

The space was cramped, barely large enough to hold the two of you. Logan’s body pressed against yours as he adjusted his position, his arm braced against the wall to keep from crushing you entirely. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, his warmth seeping through the tension of the moment.

“Really?” you whispered, your tone dry despite the situation. “This is your big plan?”

“Unless you’ve got a better idea, quiet down,” Logan replied, his voice barely above a murmur. His tone was clipped, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

The voices of the guards grew closer, and the beam of a flashlight passed just outside the slats of the door. Your breath hitched, and Logan caught the sound, his gaze flicking to yours. He shook his head slightly, silently telling you to stay calm.

The guards paused right outside, their conversation muffled but tense. Logan’s jaw tightened, and his hand instinctively rested near his hip, ready to unsheathe his claws if necessary. But the seconds stretched on, and the guards eventually moved on, their voices fading into the distance.

Logan let out a quiet breath, his eyes flicking to yours. “Told you it’d work.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the tight space and the way his confidence somehow made the situation feel less suffocating. “Sure, if by ‘work’ you mean nearly giving me a heart attack.”

He shrugged, the movement almost brushing against you. “Heart’s still beating, isn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the corner of your mouth from twitching upward. “You’re impossible.”

The two of you stepped out, looking back and forth around the room to ensure no one else was around. But the momentary quietness didn’t last for long. 

Shouts from the guards grew louder, their heavy boots pounding against the concrete floors. Logan’s grip on your hand tightened as he tugged you forward, weaving through the maze of corridors.

“This way,” he urged, his voice low but urgent.

You followed close behind, heart hammering in your chest. The narrow hallway gave way to an open loading dock, the cool night air brushing your face like a lifeline. But the guards weren’t far behind.

“There!” one shouted, raising a weapon.

Logan didn’t slow, yanking you behind a stack of crates as bullets ricocheted off the walls. He growled low in frustration, eyes scanning for a way out. Spotting a gap between two trailers, he pointed. “Through there. Go!”

You didn’t hesitate, ducking through the opening and sprinting toward the perimeter fence. The sound of Logan’s claws slicing through the chain link sent a jolt through you. He gestured for you to crawl through first, covering your back before slipping out himself.

The two of you bolted into the cover of the nearby woods, the sounds of pursuit fading into the distance. You quickly turned on your comms for a moment.

“Scott, Rogue—they found us. We’re heading back to the rendezvous point.”

Marie’s voice crackled in response. “Got it. We’re still clear on our end. Stay low, and we’ll meet you there.”

Scott’s voice followed in. “What happened?”

“Guards,” Logan growled, keeping his pace brisk as he scanned the woods for any sign of pursuit. “Too many for subtlety. But we’ve got what we came for.”

“Just make it back in one piece,” Scott replied, an underlying tension in his voice.

“Always do,” Logan said with a smirk, cutting the comm connection before Scott could fire back.

The night pressed in around you, the sound of your breaths and the faint rustle of leaves filling the silence. After a few minutes, you slowed your pace, leaning against a tree to catch your breath. Logan stopped beside you, his sharp eyes still scanning the dark forest.

“You good?” he asked, his voice low but softer than before.

“Yeah,” you managed, your heartbeat finally beginning to settle. “Thanks for the assist back there.”

Logan shrugged, but his smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Wouldn’t have let you face that mess alone.”

You gave a small smile, feeling the weight of the moment settle. “Still, you didn’t have to...you know, drag me into that closet.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and for once, he didn’t have a witty comeback. Instead, he locked eyes with you, something unspoken flickering in his eyes before he finally looked away.

“Come on,” he said, breaking the silence. “We’re not out of the woods yet—literally.”

You rolled your eyes but followed as he led the way through the trees, the faint sounds of the team waiting in the distance.

The treeline opened up to reveal the sleek silhouette of the X-jet, its ramp lowered like a beacon in the darkness. The faint hum of its systems was a welcome sound, promising safety and a chance to catch your breath.

You and Logan dashed through the trees, the X-jet’s ramp now fully lowered, and you kept close, adrenaline propelling you forward. Breathing hard, the two of you made your way to walk inside.

Scott was already at the base of the ramp, his arms crossed and a scowl firmly in place. Marie stood beside him, leaning casually against the side of the jet, her sharp eyes flicking between you and Logan as you approached.

“You cut it close,” Scott said, his voice tight with barely restrained irritation.

“Yeah, well, we ran into a little welcoming party,” Logan shot back, his tone deliberately nonchalant as he marched up the ramp. He didn’t spare Scott a second glance, leaving you to catch up.

You hesitated, brushing a stray leaf from your sleeve as you met Scott’s gaze. “We’re fine. The mission’s intact. That’s what matters, right?”

Scott’s expression didn’t soften, but he gave a curt nod. “Get on board. We’ll debrief on the way back.”

You moved up the ramp, feeling Marie’s amused eyes on you as she followed. “What’s his problem?” you muttered under your breath.

Marie smirked. “Oh, you know Scott. He hates it when things don’t go perfectly. But between you and me...” She glanced toward Logan, who was already settling into his seat. “I think it’s something else that’s got him all twisted.”

Before you could respond, the hatch sealed shut, and the jet hummed to life. Scott took his place at the controls, his movements stiff, while Marie slid into the co-pilot’s seat. You dropped into the seat across from Logan, who leaned back with a sigh, his usual smirk creeping back onto his face.

“Something on your mind?” you asked, keeping your voice low.

“Nah,” he replied, though his tone didn’t match the word. After a beat, he added, “You did good out there.”

The simplicity of the compliment caught you off guard. You nodded, hiding a small smile as you turned your gaze to the window. The X-jet’s engines hummed steadily, the familiar sound almost lulling you into a sense of comfort after the chaos of the mission. You were both finally in the air, the tension of the night starting to dissolve with each mile that passed.

You shifted in your seat, feeling the exhaustion catch up with you. The adrenaline was wearing off, and fatigue hit harder than you expected. Logan, sitting beside you, seemed just as tired but still alert, his eyes scanning the cabin like he was always prepared for the next move.

You leaned slightly toward him, your head subconsciously moving toward his shoulder. At first, you told yourself it was just to ease the aching muscles in your neck, but as you settled against him, something else tugged at your chest. His shoulder was warm, a solid presence that somehow made everything feel a little less chaotic.

“Don’t get used to it,” you murmured, trying to push down the warmth flooding your cheeks.

Logan’s voice was low, teasing, but there was an edge of something softer to it. “Wasn’t planning on it.” He shifted, adjusting his posture to make you more comfortable, but you could tell he wasn’t going to make a joke out of it this time.

You let the quiet settle between you, eyes half-closed as your thoughts wandered. This isn’t supposed to feel this way, you thought, the weight of the moment suddenly heavy in your mind. It’s just supposed to be a game, a distraction. But the more time you spent with him, the more you realized that it was starting to feel like something else. Something real.

As the jet continued its steady flight, you let the thought drift to the back of your mind, pretending it wasn’t there. For now, you’d let yourself stay in this bubble, pretending this whole “fake dating” thing was still just that.

But deep down, you weren’t so sure anymore.

chapter 6 - what we hide

When the X-jet finally touched down at the X-Mansion, you felt a quiet relief. The doors opened with a hiss, and you stepped out first, walking briskly to the conference room where the debrief was set to take place. Scott, Marie, and Jean were already inside, sitting at the long table, their expressions unreadable.

Jean, ever the perceptive one, was the first to look up as you and Logan entered. Her gaze lingered on you both, a quiet smile tugging at her lips, but there was something behind it. A glimmer of knowing that made you feel suddenly exposed.

“Mission accomplished?” Jean asked, her voice warm but with that trademark sharpness that suggested she’d already read through the comms logs.

“Yeah,” Logan replied with his usual gruffness, dropping into a seat beside you. His knee brushed against yours, the contact so subtle it could’ve been an accident. You fought the urge to look at him, to acknowledge the sudden shift in the air.

Scott didn’t waste time getting down to business. He slid a tablet toward you, showing the photos of the prototypes and weapons you’d collected. “Is this all of it?” he asked, his voice more controlled than before, but the underlying tension between him and Logan was still palpable.

“Yeah,” you replied, your eyes still on the tablet. “Everything’s documented. No casualties on our end.” You searched through the pockets of your uniform, putting the mini prototypes down on the table. “And...these too.”

Jean nodded, tapping her fingers lightly on the table. “Good work,” she said, her tone still warm, but there was an edge to it now as her gaze shifted between you and Logan. She seemed to linger on you for a moment longer than necessary, her eyes narrowing just slightly in that knowing way.

“Everything went smoothly?” Jean asked, her voice casual but with a hint of something deeper. “No... surprises?”

You swallowed, not sure if she was referring to the mission or to something else entirely. You glanced at Logan, who was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. His expression was unreadable, but there was something about the way his jaw tightened that gave you the feeling he was just as aware of Jean’s subtle probing as you were.

“Yeah, no surprises,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Everything went as planned.”

Scott slid the tablet back toward the center of the table, his gaze lingering on it for a moment before he looked up. “Alright, I think that covers everything. You’ve done good work,” he said, his tone indifferent, but not unappreciative. “Get some rest. I’m sure we’ll have more to discuss soon.”

You nodded, ready to leave the debrief behind you. The tension had been thick in the room, and now that the mission was officially over, you couldn’t wait to take a breath without everyone’s eyes on you.

Logan, however, didn’t move immediately. He turned his head toward you, that familiar, unreadable expression on his face. “You coming?” he asked, his voice low and casual.

You nodded again, standing up. The two of you started toward the door when Jean’s voice stopped you.

“Hold up, Y/N,” she called. “I need to talk to you for a second.”

Marie, who had been standing by the door, gave you a knowing look. Logan glanced at you, his expression unreadable, before shrugging. “I’ll be outside.” He gave you space to handle this, but the shift in the air was undeniable. You felt a wave of unease wash over you.

You hadn’t expected Jean and Marie to corner you after the debrief, but here you were, sitting across from them in the hallway just outside the conference room. You felt the weight of their gaze, the silent question hanging between you.

Jean, always the more subtle one, folded her arms, her smile just a little too knowing. "So," she started, her voice smooth and casual. "How’s everything going? You and Logan, I mean."

You stiffened, caught off guard. Your heart thudded in your chest, and for a moment, you found yourself lost for words. “Uh, it’s good,” you said, your tone a little too light, betraying the nervous flutter in your stomach. “You know, the mission’s over, so...”

Marie raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smirk. “Yeah, sure,” she said, her tone dripping with that playful sarcasm you’d come to recognize. "It’s just... y’all seem real comfortable around each other, huh? A bit more than just teammates, wouldn’t you say?”

I guess they were really buying it now. This is good.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, what do you mean?”

Marie’s eyes glinted mischievously as she crossed her arms, leaning in just a bit. “Oh, come on, sugar. You two were pretty cozy back there. I’m just sayin’.” She tilted her head in a way that made it clear she was teasing, but there was an edge to her tone that made your heart race, a sudden panic crawling up your spine.

Jean smirked, sensing the discomfort in your response. "I was reviewing the comms from the last mission— must be something going on between you two.” Her voice was lighthearted, but there was something about the way she said it—acting like a couple, that made your chest tighten. You knew she wanted to get something out of you.

You laughed nervously, brushing it off. “It's nothing like that, really. We're just—just getting the job done, you know?” Your voice was a little too fast, a little too defensive.

Marie raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth quaking upward. “Mhm, I bet. But you can’t deny the vibes, sugar.” She shot a glance at Jean before continuing, her tone more teasing. “Just like how Scott’s been all mopey over Jean lately... though, we all got our own little dynamics going on.”

Jean nodded, the smile never quite fading. “You and Logan, Scott and I, and—” she paused, glancing at Marie, “Remy...and Marie. It’s funny how these things just...happen, huh?” Her words had a casual air, but you could tell she was trying to gauge your reaction.

You felt your throat tighten at the mention of Remy.

Gambit. 

Right. 

You knew you were technically pretending to be with Logan, but hearing it brought you back to reality. You weren't a real couple. You just had to keep reminding yourself of that. But... the way they were talking about their relationships so casually, it felt so much more real.

Marie’s smile softened a bit as she leaned in closer. “It’s okay, sugar. You don’t have to have it all figured out with him right away. Just take your time. I mean, things with Logan can be... complicated.”

Jean nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Logan’s not the easiest to figure out, I know. But he’s got a good heart under all that stubbornness. Just... don’t be afraid to let him in when you’re ready.”

You forced a smile, nodding in agreement even though your thoughts were racing. Pretend. Right. You had to keep it together, keep up the act, even though it was becoming harder to distinguish the lines between reality and the mission.

“Thanks,” you said, clearing your throat. “But it’s really nothing. Just... keeping things professional.”

Marie winked, still teasing. “Alright, sugar. But if you do decide to make it more than just a mission thing, you know where to find me.” Her tone was playful, but there was a softness in it too, a subtle kindness you appreciated.

As you, Jean, and Marie finally parted ways, heading off in different directions, you took a breath, trying to shake the awkwardness that had settled in the pit of your stomach, and made your way to the door.

As you stepped out into the hallway, you spotted Logan just a few paces ahead, his back to you as he walked toward the staircase. He must have been waiting for you, or maybe just lingering after the meeting, but either way, you appreciated his presence to stick around.

“Hey,” you called out, your voice slightly strained as you reached him.

He turned slightly, the hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “How’d it go?” His eyes flicked toward you, searching your face with an intensity that made your heart beat a little faster.

You paused, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “It went... fine.” You tried to keep your tone casual, but something in the way you spoke betrayed the uncertainty you felt. “They’re just curious about us.” You couldn't help but add the last part with a slight edge, as if the mere mention of it made your insides twist.

Logan’s brow furrowed, his usual unreadable expression faltering just a bit. “Curious?” His voice was low, like he was still trying to process exactly what that meant.

You nodded, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah, well... they think we’re actually a thing. Jean was all smiles, and Marie...” You trailed off, shaking your head as if it would help shake away the unease. “It was just a lot of teasing, I guess.”

A slight chuckle escaped Logan’s lips, and he glanced over at you, his expression unreadable but laced with something... almost like amusement. “You didn’t say anything, did you?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not,” you said, perhaps a little too quickly, but you quickly recovered. “Just enough to keep them satisfied.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he pushed himself off the wall, taking a step closer to you. “Yeah, well, it’s working, I guess,” he said, his voice just a little quieter now, a little less casual. He paused, watching you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher. “But maybe we should kick it up a notch, huh?”

You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “Kick it up a notch?”

Maybe it was a joke, or maybe it wasn’t. You couldn’t tell.

You swallowed, trying to keep your cool, but something about the way he looked at you stirred something beneath the surface. “Well, I wouldn’t mind,” you said, your voice a little quieter than you intended, as your faces grew uncomfortably close.

Logan’s smirk faltered just for a moment, and you could feel the shift in the air around you. He didn’t immediately respond, the space between you both suddenly charged with something you weren’t sure you were ready for. He blinked, almost surprised, but then leaned back with a casual shrug as if to shake it off.

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, eyes narrowed, “I guess it wouldn't hurt.”

 His tone wasn’t as teasing as it would have been, which was a bit unexpected in your eyes. You tried not to think much of it. This was a fake relationship, after all. 

For a moment, neither of you moved. Your faces were so close now that you could feel the heat of his breath, your pulse racing in your ears. Logan held your gaze, and you saw that flicker of something deeper. Something that didn’t quite match the playful tone of his words.

But, just as quickly as it appeared, he brushed it aside with a half-hearted wink and a shrug. "Guess we’ll figure it out as we go along, huh?"

You nodded, a quiet tension still hanging in the air. As he turned and walked toward the stairs, you lingered, fighting the urge to follow him, the strange weight of the moment heavy on your chest.

One thing was for sure; things were definitely not as simple as they seemed anymore.

And though you couldn’t pinpoint what specifically, it was there.

chapter 7 - what we share

You watched Logan retreat upstairs until he disappeared around the corner, the faint scent of cigars along with it. The rest of the team had either gone to bed, or disappeared into their own corners of the mansion, leaving you alone with your thoughts. It was strange, how a place so full of people could feel so empty. You didn’t want to sleep just yet, your mind wide awake from the teasing Jean and Rogue had done just minutes ago. Lost in thought, you heard your stomach grumble.

A snack sounded better than staring at the ceiling for hours.

The mansion was quiet, save for the occasional creak of old wood settling. You reached to open the fridge, it's cold light spilling over shelves of leftovers and mismatched condiments. You grabbed a soda and some crackers, shutting the door with a quiet thud.

The voice startled you, making you jump slightly. You turned to find Logan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, that unreadable look still firmly planted in his eyes. The surprise faded into a familiar calm.

“You always raid the kitchen this late?”

The voice startled you, and you turned to find Logan leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, that same unreadable look in his eyes.

“I thought you just went upstairs?” you replied, keeping your tone light. “What’s your excuse?”

He smirked faintly, stepping inside. “I don’t really sleep. Figured I’d hang with you instead.”

You raised an eyebrow, popping open the soda. “That your way of saying you’re hungry?”

Logan shrugged, grabbing an apple from the counter. “Maybe. The girls kept you wide awake, huh?”

You hesitated, the soda can cooling your hand. “More like the mission from today,” you admitted, leaning back against the counter. “Feels like I’m still out there, you know? Like my body made it back, but my head didn’t.”

Logan nodded, grabbing an apple from a nearby bowl of fruits, biting it hard. “It’s normal. First few times, it messes with you. Then it just...sticks with you differently.”

“Comforting,” you said dryly, and he chuckled.

Before either of you could say more, another voice broke the moment.

“You two always this chatty at midnight, or am I just lucky?”

You turned to see Scott standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, a disapproving tilt to his head.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Relax, Summers. We’re not plannin’ a coup.”

Scott gave a slight smirk but didn’t lighten much. “So are you two... a thing now?” he asked, his tone playful but still searching. "Or just the late-night hangout type?"

You felt a sudden awkwardness settle in the room, and Logan’s posture stiffened for a moment before he smirked, looking back at you to respond.

“A bit of both.” you replied, your voice a little quieter than you intended. You glanced at Logan, unsure of how much to say, or if you even wanted to say anything at all. The last thing you wanted was to dive into an explanation that neither you nor Logan had figured out yet.

Logan’s eyes flickered to yours. "Yeah, something like that."

 “Right. Well, if you’re both done with your midnight snack, and well...cracking your little situation, the danger room isn't going to run itself tomorrow.” He looked at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

He left without another word, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

Logan finished his apple, tossing the core into the trash. “He means well,” he said, almost grudgingly.

“Yeah,” you said, setting your soda down, taking a bite of some crackers. “Doesn’t make it any less annoying sometimes.”

Logan smirked, pushing off the counter. “Well, you heard the man. Get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“I will.” you replied, taking a small sip of your soda once again. You noticed Logan’s expression, lost in thought about something in particular. He stood near the hallway door, contemplating going on with his own endeavors, or staying with you. Either way, it was obvious the two of you weren’t planning to go sleep anytime soon. Not yet. 

“So, speaking of cracks,” you began, the words coming out slower than you expected. “You ever had anyone, you know, break through yours?”

Logan’s eyebrow twitched. “What, you mean, like, past loves?” His tone was neutral, almost shaking his head back to reality.

You nodded, curious but not pushing. “Yeah. It doesn’t have to be deep or anything. Just... someone who actually made you feel like you were seen, I guess.”

Logan glanced down at his feet, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment. He didn’t respond immediately, but you didn’t expect him to. Logan wasn’t exactly one for talking about his past.

Eventually, he let out a breath, his voice quiet. “Yeah, a few. Doesn’t last long, though. When you’ve lived through what I have, it’s hard to let anyone in too close.”

You gave him a sidelong glance, your lips curling into a small grin. “Yeah, I get that. But it’s funny, still willing to fake date someone, even with all that baggage.”

Logan’s eyes flickered toward you, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might have been a smile if he wasn’t so stubborn. “Don’t read too much into that,” he muttered.

“I’m just saying,” you teased, leaning against the counter with a raised eyebrow. “If you can pull that off, maybe letting someone in isn’t as impossible as you make it sound.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement there, just barely. “Fake dating is a hell of a lot easier than the real thing,” he grumbled, clearly trying to avoid admitting anything deeper.

“Sure, but it’s still a step,” you shot back with a shrug. “Maybe next time you won’t need a cover story.”

Logan paused at the cabinet door, hand on the handle, probably to get another snack, but he didn’t open it right away. He looked over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You seem pretty sure about all this relationship stuff now," he said, voice low and teasing. "Didn't know you were such an expert."

You chuckled, leaning back against the counter with your arms crossed. "Oh, I'm not," you replied, giving a small shrug. "Just trying to figure it out. I mean, we all have our baggage, right?"

Logan’s eyes darkened slightly, and he stepped closer again, almost instinctively closing the distance between you two. There was a shift in his gaze, a flicker of something else, something a little more raw. "Yeah. Baggage," he muttered. 

“I’ve got enough to fill a warehouse,” he added, for a short moment; his voice still rough, but edged with a dark humor. "Doesn't mean I’m looking for someone to help carry it."

“I understand,” you said quietly, your eyes lowering as you reached for your soda again. You took a small sip, gathering your thoughts. “I’ve got my own baggage too. Probably more than I’d like to admit.”

Logan didn’t say anything, but you could feel his attention on you, steady and unwavering. He let go of the cabinet door, walking slowly to where you were seated. 

“I get why you’d rather keep your distance,” you continued, your voice quieter now, your fingers lingering close to your soda can. “I think... I think I’ve been doing the same thing, just in my own way. Maybe I’ve been keeping people at arm’s length, too.” You met his gaze then, your eyes a little hesitant. “Maybe because I’m scared. Scared of getting hurt again, or worse, scared of realizing I was never really enough in the first place.”

Logan’s gaze softened, just a little, and his lips parted to say something. He hesitantly placed a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re more than enough,” he said, his voice quieter than before, a hint of sincerity lacing his words. The way he looked at you, like he was trying to convey something else without saying it directly— it made your heart skip a beat.

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you just stood there, feeling the weight of his hand, and the moment. There was something about Logan that made you want to let your guard down, to let him see parts of you you refused to show anyone else. Something about the way he didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you, he just let you be you. Authentically you.

It was never like that was Remy. No, not even. You wished.

“So, fake dating aside,” you replied, eyes darting away, interrupting the silence. “Do you ever think about what you’d want... if you actually did date someone? For real, I mean.”

"For romance..." he muttered, as if the word tasted foreign on his tongue. His gaze drifted, not quite meeting yours, as if searching for something in the air between you. He sat beside you now, arms on the table counter. 

"I guess it’s easier when someone’s already... taken, you know?" He finally met your eyes, an expression of something you couldn’t quite place in them. "It’s, well, you care about someone but you don’t have to act on it. Don’t have to figure out all the mess of... well, actually being with them. You can care from a distance, and that feels safer. That’s all." His voice was low, a little rough, but there was no bitterness in it, just a resigned honesty.

You didn’t say anything at first, processing what he’d said. It was a strange admission, and yet it made a twisted kind of sense. Logan had always kept his emotions buried so deeply, so well-hidden, that hearing him open up almost caught you off guard.

He cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. "I’m not saying I’m some kind of martyr or anything. I mean, Scott and Jean have their thing. I’ve got my... Well, whatever the hell this is." He waved his hand vaguely in the space between you jokingly, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. "But yeah, it’s easier that way. You don’t have to deal with the what-ifs, the risks. You just... live in the moment and let it go."

“Sounds like you’ve got it figured out,” you said, chuckling, trying to keep the mood light, but even you could feel the pain of his words. “The whole ‘keep it at a distance’ thing.”

Logan’s lips curled into a small, humorless smile, but there was a hint of sadness in it, too. “Figured out? Nah.” He leaned forward slightly, his elbows on his knees, still looking at you with that same unguarded look. “It’s just... easier to not feel too much. You know?” His voice was quieter now, and for a moment, you thought he might say more.

You didn’t push. You didn’t need to. You understood. You both had your own ways of coping, your own defenses, and the idea of letting anyone in too close felt dangerous. Too uncertain.

"Yeah," you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips despite the heaviness of the moment. "I get that. It’s easier to... not care too much, right?"

“If I care too much, they’ll get hurt in some way. Ain’t easy, letting someone in."

"Well,” you paused. “I still think the right person would help with the mess. Maybe it doesn’t have to be so...scary. More of just being there when things get messy."

For a moment, there was silence, and you both sat there. Logan’s eyes softened, just a fraction, and you saw the smallest shift in his expression. It wasn’t much, but it was there, something opening up, if only for a moment.

"Maybe," he said quietly, looking down at his hands. "But for now, I think I’m good with the fake dating thing."

“Yeah,” you said, your voice soft with a quiet understanding. “For now, we’re good.”

Logan stood up slowly, stretching his shoulders with a quiet grunt. "Well, we’ll see what the future holds," he said, his smirk returning, though it was lighter this time. "Get some sleep. Don’t forget about tomorrow.”

You nodded, your smile faint but genuine. "Yeah, I won’t, don’t worry. Thanks, Logan."

He gave you a small nod before turning toward the door. As his footsteps echoed down the hall, you stayed in the kitchen for a while longer. You never realized how easy everything was with Logan. You understood each other a bit too well.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

chapter 8 - what we break

The early morning silence greeted you as you pulled yourself out of bed. You stifled a yawn, stretching as the cool air nipped at your skin. Training day. No missions, no more disasters, just time in the danger room, blowing off some steam without needing to worry about anything else.

You moved through your routine, pulling on your workout gear and splashing cold water on your face to wake up properly. Training days weren’t always your favorite, but they offered a sense of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic life. At least, that's what you said, confronted by anyone who didn’t understand.

That optimism is what carried you all the way to the Danger Room. Standing in thought with your earphones in. As the doors hissed open, your steps faltered when you caught sight of who was already there.

Logan.

And Remy.

They were sparring in the center of the room, their movements fluid yet calculated, each step and strike of power and precision. Logan's growls punctuated the sharp clash of their practice weapons, while Remy’s easy smirk didn’t falter, even as he narrowly dodged an incoming blow.

Your stomach dropped.

Before you could run off before they noticed, Remy caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye and called out, “Morning, chère. You here to watch or join in the fun?”

You held out one of your earphones and froze, like a deer caught in headlights. Words failed you as your brain scrambled to come up with something, anything—that wouldn’t make you seem out of place.

Logan’s head turned at Remy’s greeting, his sharp gaze locking on you. His expression was neutral, but something about the slight tilt of his head made it feel like he was sizing you up.

“Oh, uh—yeah,” you stammered, stepping further inside before you could talk yourself into running the other way. “Thought I’d... get some training in.”

Remy straightened, tossing the staff he’d been holding to his other hand with a cocky flourish. “Perfect timing, non? We could use a fresh pair of eyes. Logan’s got his claws out today.”

You laughed awkwardly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Logan grunted, brushing past Remy and heading to the weapons rack. “You just gonna stand there or jump in, bub?”

Before you could respond, another voice chimed in.

“Well, this is going to be good,” Morph’s familiar voice drawled from the corner. They were leaning against the wall, arms crossed, their mischievous grin on full display. Clearly, they've been watching the whole thing, and from the look on their face, they weren't planning on missing a second of what was about to unfold.

You threw Morph a glare, but it only made them grin wider. Great. An audience.

“Uh, I’m good for now,” you said quickly, waving a hand. “Just warming up.”

You moved to the farthest available spot on the mat, your face heating under the weight of Logan’s and Remy’s lingering gazes. As you stretched, you could feel Morph’s eyes on you, too, like they were silently narrating every awkward twitch and stumble in your movements.

Trying to ignore them, you dropped into a stretch, but your limbs felt stiff, and your balance was off. Every now and then, you caught snippets of the sparring behind you. Remy’s smooth banter clashed with Logan’s gruff responses, the sound of their training weapons striking echoing through the room.

“Keep up, old man,” Remy quipped, his voice light as he sidestepped one of Logan’s swipes with infuriating ease.

Logan snorted, stepping forward with a calculated swing that nearly clipped Remy’s side. “Watch yourself. I’m just warmin’ up.”

You winced, fumbling mid-stretch. Morph’s muffled laugh caught your ear, and you shot them another look over your shoulder.

“What?” they asked innocently, though his smirk said otherwise.

“You’re distracting,” you muttered, focusing on your stretches again.

They chuckled, leaning casually against the wall. “I’m not the one completely flushed out.”

“I’m not flushed,” you snapped under your breath, though the evidence was plainly there.

Morph snickered, their ability to make you squirm practically a superpower in itself. “Sure, sure. And I’m not morphing into Gambit to test your poker face next.”

You groaned internally, pretending to ignore them as you tried to focus on the stretches. The sharp clang of Logan’s claws retracting pulled your attention for a brief second, and you couldn’t help but glance over.

Logan, as ever, was no-nonsense, brushing off one of Remy’s quips as he grabbed a towel from the bench. But when his gaze flicked toward you, sharp and assessing, your heart stumbled. Did he know how awkward and embarrassing this felt? Being forced to be with the guy you maybe still liked, along with your fake boyfriend?

 He probably smelled it. 

“Looks like she’s gonna warm up all morning,” Logan remarked gruffly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward just slightly. “You plan on actually doin’ anything, princess? Or you gonna keep flailin’ over there?”

Your head snapped toward Logan at the jab, and your hands dropped to your sides, clearly annoyed. 

"I’m stretching. It’s called preparation. Maybe you should try it sometime."

Remy’s laugh rang out before Logan could reply, a smooth, teasing chuckle that grated on your already frayed nerves. "You keep talkin’ like that, you’ll rile him up more than me."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you glanced between the two of them. "You’re both impossible."

“Aw, don’t be like that," Remy said, stepping closer, his ever-present smirk softening just a touch. "We’re just havin’ a little fun. No harm, non?"

You forced yourself to stay still, but every inch of your body wanted to react. Remy’s words felt like a mockery. Your stomach twisted from all of it. There was something in the way his tone lingered, in the flicker of his red eyes towards Logan, that made your blood simmer. 

You then turned towards Logan, of why you’d roped him into this in the first place. Gambit, Remy, the one who had broken your heart, had stood you up weeks prior, leaving you feeling small and humiliated. The worst part? He didn’t even seem to remember. But you did.

Meanwhile, Logan's expression was as unreadable as ever. Carved from stone, he gave away nothing, and yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else. Was he irritated? Amused? Or was it something else entirely? Whatever it was, it only bothered you more.

You gritted your teeth, stretching through the awkwardness while Logan and Gambit lingered too close for comfort.Remy was still smirking like he was in on some private joke, and Logan, for all his gruffness, didn’t seem to mind the tension he’d stirred up. You stole a glance at Morph, who, to his credit, had the decency to mime zipping his lips after Logan’s warning, but his eyes still sparkled with mischief.

With a sharp inhale, you pushed yourself up from your stretch and took a step toward Logan. “You’re right,” you said loud enough to catch both of their attention. “I should stop warming up and actually do something.”

Logan raised a brow, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his expression. His arms were crossed, his posture relaxed, but there was a tension in his gaze, like he was waiting to see just what you were up to.

With deliberate steps, you closed the space between yourself and Logan. His expression shifted slightly, confusion mixed with curiosity, his body stiffening just enough for you to notice. When you stopped in front of him, his brow furrowed further.

Despite the rapid pounding of your heart, you reached up, cupping the edge of his jaw lightly with one hand, and pressed your lips to his.

The world seemed to still for that brief moment. His lips were firm but warm, slightly chapped, with a roughness that was distinctly Logan. The kiss was soft, unhurried, and intentional. You allowed yourself to linger just long enough to make it convincing, feeling the way his breath hitched almost imperceptibly, the slight tension in his shoulders as though he wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

When you pulled away, his eyes were on you, sharper than ever, and his lips parted just enough to give you the satisfaction of having caught him off guard. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of surprise, intrigue, and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“I’ve changed my mind about joining you two. I’m going for a run.”

You didn’t dare glance back at Logan as you strode toward Gambit, who looked as though someone had just yanked the rug out from under him. His smirk faltered for a split second, just long enough for you to savor the moment. But he recovered quickly, twirling his staff and tilting his head at you as you walked out.

Behind you, Morph let out a low whistle, clearly delighted by the sudden shift in the room’s energy. Logan said nothing, but you could feel his gaze burning into the back of your neck. If you focused hard enough, you might’ve been able to hear the faintest scoff.

As you headed to the outer yard of the X-Mansion, you couldn’t bring yourself to just run just yet. Your mind was still stuck on what happened in the Danger Room. The moment with Logan. The kiss. It felt like an impulsive decision, one that hadn't really been thought through, but in a way, it had felt right.

Mind racing, you were still standing outside the mansion, the weight of what you’d done sinking in. The morning air did nothing to settle your thoughts, only sharpening the confusion swirling in your head. What the hell had you been thinking? You didn’t even have a chance to understand it before your body had already moved. Shaking your head, you walked back inside, your footsteps heavy on the floor.

You’d barely made it to the hallway when you heard the unmistakable heavy footfalls behind you. The sound of Logan’s boots on the floor echoed loudly, and you could feel his presence long before he spoke.

“Thought you were goin’ for a run,” Logan’s voice cut through the silence, low and tinged. He was obviously pissed.

You didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. 

“Changed my mind,” you muttered, your pace never slowing as you reached for your keys. Your mind raced, but you kept your gaze straight ahead, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

His footsteps quickened, cutting the distance between you in two long strides until you reached the door to your room. You didn’t stop, but the sound of Logan’s voice, low and tense, made your heart stutter.

“Why the hell’d you do that?” he demanded. 

You finally stopped, but only to face him with your back against the door, your body tensing at the proximity. He stood there, eyes narrowed, like he was waiting for you to crack. His jaw was clenched, and there was an almost predatory tension in his stance.

“You were the one who wanted to kick things up a notch,” you replied. No matter how sarcastic you may have sounded, it was honest.

Logan’s expression flickered, something close to frustration flashing in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, barely retracting as he crossed his arms. “That was never what I had in mind.”

You raised an eyebrow, and despite everything, a slight smirk tugged at your lips. “I’m not the one who started sparring with Remy. The last person I want to see. You didn’t exactly make it easy to just sit back and watch.”

He stepped closer, just enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. His gaze flickered down to your lips for a fraction of a second before locking back onto your eyes. It was intimidating, and you held yourself back from trying to look away.

“I didn't need you to make me look like an idiot,” he muttered, voice low, almost rougher than usual.

You stood there, back pressed against the door, heart pounding in your chest as Logan’s presence loomed just inches away. The room felt smaller with every second that passed in silence.

You heard his voice, low and rough as he leaned in to repeat himself. “Why’d you kiss me?”

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke. “I didn’t kiss you to mess with your head, Logan.” Your voice was steady now, no sarcasm, no defensiveness; just raw honesty. “But you’re the one who... made me think something else was going on.”

Logan scoffed, that almost sounded like a laugh, while shaking his head taking a step back. “Oh really? The same way you thought you had something else with Gambit?”

“What the fuck, Logan?”

The words caught in your throat, your breath quickening as the sting of his accusation hit harder than you expected. You pushed yourself off the door, taking a step toward him, your voice tight with disbelief. “Don’t you put that on me,” you snapped, pointing a finger to his chest. “You agreed to this.”

“You’re right, I did,” he replied, his eyes burning with something between anger and confusion, maybe even a hint of jealousy. “But you’re the one stuck in some damn fantasy of what could’ve been with that...cajun." 

“I’m not the one pretending like something’s going to happen with Jean.” The words were out before you could stop it.

Logan’s expression hardened in an instant, and the room seemed to freeze. His jaw clenched, muscles tensing under the strain of what you just said. You could feel the air crackling with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy between you both.

He stepped back, looking at you as if you’d just struck him with something harder than your words. “You think that’s what this is about?” he spat, voice low and dangerous. “You think it’s about her?”

You didn’t back down, your own frustration burning. “Isn’t it?” you shot back, your voice cutting through the thick silence. “You’re stuck in some fantasy about her, too. Hell, everyone can see it. But don’t act like I’m the only one holding onto something that isn’t real.”

Logan let out a sharp exhale, his fingers gripping the edge of his coat, fighting to keep his cool. His eyes, though, were wild now, full of something you couldn’t quite define. “I’m not you,” he growled, the words coming out rough. “I don’t make mistakes like you. I don’t...” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

You took a step toward him, your eyes never leaving his. “And what? You think you’re the only one capable of making mistakes?” you shot back, your voice bitter. “Maybe we’re just not meant to have what we want. Because they could care less, to even bother giving a shit about us.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel the anger, the disappointment of what you’d just thrown into the air. Logan stood there, his chest heaving, and for a moment, neither of you knew what to say.

He finally broke the silence, his voice quieter but no less intense. “I never said I wanted her,” he muttered, staring at the floor for a moment before looking back at you. His expression was as callous as ever, but the way he stared you down; he couldn’t say it himself, but his eyes could.

Your eyes softened from his answer, but the lump in your throat practically stopped you from giving a response. It didn’t help that your head was pounding from how chaotic your nerves had been turned over. Logan let out a frustrated sigh as you had nothing left to say, from his subtleness, and took a step back. His eyes were still on you, but there was a certain finality to his gaze now, something cold and resolute that you weren’t ready to face.

“Forget it,” he muttered, voice clipped, his face unreadable. “Whatever this is—whatever we are—it's done. I’m done.”

Before you could say another word, he turned and walked toward the door, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. You stood there for what felt like an eternity, the weight of the argument crashing down, the finality of it all, and the overwhelming ache in your chest settled deep into your bones.

And god, you hated it.

chapter 9 - what we mend

The days had dragged on like an unending weight. Each glance between you and Logan felt like a punch to the gut, both of you stiffening the moment the other entered the room. You didn’t even need to look at him to know he was avoiding you; his silence was louder than any words could have been. The same could be said for you. It was easier this way. Or so you told yourself.

Since that morning in the danger room, when your lips had lingered a fraction too long on his, everything had become... complicated. What had been a simple, calculated arrangement of a fake relationship, the harmless flirtation, was now tangled in a mess of confusing emotions. Neither of you had addressed it, but the tension between you had only grown thicker.

At dinner, you had barely looked up from your plate. Every time you did, you’d catch Logan glancing in your direction only to quickly look away. His eyes were stormy, unreadable, and it frustrated you more than anything. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d actually spoken to him, at least not without a stilted awkwardness between you.

The team noticed, of course. Marie, with her usual sharp eyes, had raised an eyebrow at the silent distance between you two. "You two been fightin’ or something?" she’d asked, but you’d merely shrugged, offering a vague response that did little to explain the situation.

Now, as the evening wore on and the mansion fell quiet, the tension was unbearable. The silence in your room felt suffocating, tossing and turning in your bed; and no matter how much you tried to focus on something—anything—to distract yourself, your thoughts kept wandering back to Logan. The way his lips had felt on yours. 

But the line had already been crossed. And you didn’t want to cross any others. 

With a decisive moment, you stood from your bed, slipping on your socks with a swift motion. You had to see him. You just had to know if this feeling—this damnable, undeniable feeling was mutual, or if you were completely losing your mind. 

Your steps were quiet as you walked down the hall, your heart pounding louder than the sound of your footsteps. You reached Logan’s door, hesitating for only a moment before you knocked. The sound echoed in the silence.

"Who’s there?" His voice came through, rough and thick with the weight of the day.

"It's me," you said, and before you could second-guess yourself, you turned the handle, pushing the door open.

Logan was sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed in his iconic white tank top and bootcut jeans. His posture was rigid, as though he were waiting for something. When his gaze met yours, his eyes darkened, but he didn’t say anything. He took another puff from his cigar, which didn’t help how thick the air was between you both. It was almost as if the room itself was holding its breath.

“What do you want?” he asked in slight annoyance.

 “I don’t know,” you muttered, the words coming out harsher than you intended. 

Logan didn’t move, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a tension in the air, something thick and unspoken. The silence stretched between you both like a taut wire, neither of you wanting to touch it, but neither able to ignore it either.

“You could’ve stayed away,” he said, his voice rough, like he was holding back something he didn’t want to admit.

“I know.” you whispered, a pang of guilt in your tone. “Look, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to push you.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might just brush it off, but then he spoke again, softer now. “It’s not just you.” His eyes flickered, as though searching for something in you, something he wasn’t ready to admit either. “I didn’t mean to snap at you either. It’s just... it’s easier if we both just pretend it didn’t happen.”

You swallowed, the weight of his words pressing against you, making your chest tighten. “It’s not easier,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the thick air between you. "It’s not easier for me."

Logan didn’t respond immediately. His eyes dropped to his cigar for a moment, a slight frown tugging at the corner of his lips. He exhaled, letting the smoke curl into the air, his gaze returning to you, but this time there was something different in his eyes. Something that softened the hardness you’d seen earlier.

“Then why the hell are we still doing this?” he asked, his voice low, rough with something that almost sounded like frustration. “Why are we still pretending if it’s this complicated?”

You took a step closer, your pulse quickening with the proximity. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

“I don’t know," you muttered, your voice barely a whisper. "But I can't stop thinking about it—about you. I can’t keep pretending it was just nothing." You looked up, your gaze meeting his, finding him waiting for something, something you couldn’t name.

For a long beat, neither of you moved. Logan’s gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, his jaw tight, as though fighting something inside him. Then, almost imperceptibly, he shifted forward on the bed, a breath escaping him as if he were finally deciding to let go of whatever restraint he’d been holding onto.

“You’re not the only one,” he muttered, his voice rougher now, barely above a whisper. “I’ve been tryin’ to ignore it, but... hell, you make it hard to forget.”

You took a breath, stepping closer, your body drawn toward him against your better judgment. You could feel the heat between you, the crackling tension that had been building for days now, impossible to ignore any longer.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t mean to make things so damn complicated.

Logan’s eyes softened, just slightly, and his hand reached out, brushing the back of your fingers with his. The contact sent a shock through you, like electricity, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let him close the gap between you.

“Not your fault,” he said, his voice thick, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “It’s me too. I’m... I’m not good at this shit. But I—” His words faltered, his eyes searching yours for something, anything. “I can’t pretend either.”

You didn’t give him the chance to say anything else. You pulled him toward you, crashing your lips against his. The kiss was hungry, desperate, full of all the unspoken feelings you’d been trying to ignore for so long. Logan’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, as if afraid to let you slip away.

You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. All the confusion, the frustration, the longing—it boiled over in a wave of heat that left you breathless. His lips were firm against yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn’t matter. The only thing that existed was the storm between you both, the undeniable pull that had always been there, buried beneath layers of doubt and distance.

When you finally broke away, you were both gasping for air. Logan’s forehead rested against yours, his hands still holding you close as if he needed to keep you tethered to him.

"Shit, I...that didn’t help, did it..." you whispered, your voice shaky, but a faint smile tugged at your lips. You didn’t know if it was a question or a statement, but it didn’t matter.

Logan’s laugh was low and rough, the sound a mixture of frustration and amusement. "No, but I figured as much." he said, but his eyes were still on you, intense, searching for something.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them, your hands lingering on his chest to keep a certain distance. "I—"

Before you could finish, Logan’s lips were on yours again, cutting off any further words. This time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just need. 

“Shut up.”

His hands moved from your waist to your thighs, gripping you with a possessiveness that made your heart race. The way he touched you felt urgent, almost frantic, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath the fabric of his tank top, and you pushed yourself closer, needing more of him. His lips were rough against yours, parting briefly for a breath, but you didn’t give him the chance to pull away. You kissed him harder, deeper, as if trying to erase all the space that had ever existed between you.

Logan’s fingers dug into your thighs, lifting you slightly as he pulled you closer, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that left you breathless. You could feel the heat of him through the fabric, and it made every nerve in your body hum with need. His grip on your thighs was firm, possessive, as if he was claiming you in a way that was both comforting and maddening. The way his hands moved, pulling you closer and closer, left you feeling dizzy, lost in the feel of him.

His lips traveled down to your jaw, and you gasped, a shiver running through your body at the feel of his breath on your skin. You couldn’t stop the way your hands wandered, exploring the hard planes of his chest and shoulders, wanting to touch every part of him. His scent, the warmth of his skin, the feel of his rough hands—it was all too much, and yet it wasn’t enough.

You let him take off your shirt, urging him to do the same, and one thing led onto the next.

Logan's hands slid up your sides, his touch firm but gentle, as if he were memorizing every curve of your body. You felt the steady rhythm of his breath against your skin, his lips trailing soft kisses along your collarbone. Each kiss ignited something deep within you, a rush of warmth that spread through every part of you. You moved closer, your hands instinctively reaching for his back, your fingertips grazing the muscles beneath his jeans.

His breath hitched slightly as your fingers brushed the waistband of his jeans, his body tensing at the touch. You could feel the intensity rising between you, the need in his movements, in the way his lips ghosted over yours before finally capturing them again. The kiss was deeper this time, more urgent, as though everything in the world had narrowed down to this single moment.

You pulled back just slightly, your chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to steady yourself. “Logan...” you breathed, your voice shaky as you searched his eyes, trying to read the same urgency, the same longing that mirrored your own. But there was still hesitation there, just beneath the surface. Still, neither of you moved, too tangled in the heat of the moment to do anything but breathe each other in.

His hand slid down your back, resting against the curve of your hip, fingers lightly gripping the fabric of your pants. He pulled you closer again, the intensity of his touch making your pulse quicken. “I know,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Me too.”

And the rest? It could only be described as bliss.

chapter 10 - what we confess

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the warmth. Strong, steady, and unfamiliar in the best possible way. It wasn’t just the weight of the blanket cocooning you or the soft glow of morning light spilling through the curtains. It was him.

And you were in his bed.

Logan’s arm draped across your waist, his fingers loosely splayed over your stomach as though even in sleep, he refused to let you go. His chest pressed against your back, the soft rhythm of his breathing stirring the fine hairs at the nape of your neck.

For a moment, you didn’t move. You didn’t even breathe, afraid that the slightest shift would shatter the fragile peace of the morning. You let yourself sink into it, let yourself feel safe, for once, in the quiet intimacy of it all.

Then his voice, low in a whisper, broke the silence. “You awake?”

You turned your head slightly, catching his sleepy gaze. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and there was a faint crease on his cheek from the pillow. It was so endearingly Logan, so unlike the composed version everyone else saw, that it made your chest ache.

“Yeah,” you whispered, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Logan’s lips twitched into a lazy grin. “Good. Thought I might’ve crushed you in my sleep.”

You snorted softly, your fingers reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Not even close. Though you do snore.”

“Snore?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Princess, you’re hearing things.”

“Sure,” you teased. “You sounded like a chainsaw. A grumpy one.”

A chuckle rumbled low in his chest, and he tightened his arm around your waist slightly. “Guess I was too comfortable. Not used to sleeping next to someone who doesn’t wake me up kickin’ in their sleep.”

“Don’t test me,” you said with a mock glare, but your smile betrayed you.

His grin widened as he propped himself up on his elbow. “Noted.”

It was a strange kind of comfort, lying tangled together without the unspoken words or half-faked plans hanging over you. But the comfort didn’t last. The two of you had hardly gotten any words out last night, and reality, as always, had a way of creeping back in.

Logan shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you. His gaze softened, the usual storminess of his eyes replaced with something warmer, something gentler. “We gotta talk.”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. We do.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the words you both needed to say hanging heavy in the air. Finally, Logan broke the silence.

“This whole fake-dating thing,” he started, his voice measured, “I didn’t think much of it at first. Figured it’d be a pain in the ass, but... I don’t know. Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling fake.” He paused, his hand brushing yours lightly. “At least for me.”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away, the weight of his words settling in your chest. “Logan...”

“I know,” he said, cutting you off gently. “I know you were hung up on Remy. And hell, I thought I was hung up on Jean. But the truth is…”

Logan hesitated, his jaw tightening as he searched for the right words.

“She was someone I thought I wanted,” he said, his voice quieter now, like he was speaking more to himself than to you. He glanced away for a beat, exhaling softly, before meeting your gaze again. “But... it was never real. Not like this.”

“This?” you asked softly, your heart thudding in your chest.

“This,” he confirmed, his hand finding yours and curling around it. “You. Us.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you found yourself struggling to speak.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out?” he added, his voice softer now. “How hard it was to just... stand by while you kept lookin’ at him like he was everything?”

Your chest tightened, his words stirring something deep inside you. “I—”

“Don’t,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “Don’t say anything you’re not ready to say. Just... be honest with yourself. With me.”

You bit your lip, your eyes dropping to where his hand rested against your cheek. “I don’t think I love him anymore,” you admitted quietly, your voice trembling with the weight of the words. “I thought I did. For so long, I thought I’d never get over him. But now...” You looked back up at Logan, your eyes meeting his. “I can’t imagine myself without you.”

Logan’s lips quivered into a small, almost disbelieving smile. “Good,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “’Cause you’ve been driving me crazy, darlin’. Watching you smile, hearing you laugh... it’s all I’ve wanted for a while now.”

A small laugh escaped you, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his lips brushing yours lightly. “But I don’t mind. Not with you.”

The kiss that followed was slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to the desperation of the night before. This wasn’t about drowning in the moment. It was about finding something real, something worth holding onto. When it finally broke, your foreheads stayed pressed together, both of you breathing in the shared space.

“So, what now?” you asked softly.

Logan smirked. “Guess we stop pretending.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “You in?”

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “Yeah. I’m in.”

And as his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you’d already found it.

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

Halloween is Around the Corner

This is why I hate Halloween with the common people. They cannot appreciate how I'm not only dressing up as a firefighter, I'm WEARING a firefighter, a studly one at that.

Yeah he is a firefighter in real life so taking out this costume is real easy because this is literally his uniform, but c'mon now, the folks simply don't understand how difficult it was for me to acquire this costume. It was real brutal and I almost failed to jab the syringe to that thick neck of his, but I managed to did it by the end of the day, hence here I am standing here ready for an early Halloween celebration by testing out my costume.

Now, what do you think if rather than mixing with the common crowd, we have a Halloween party with all the TF enthusiast out there instead? I know some of yall have stash of interesting person to wear, possess, puppet around or whatever, but let's do something fresh for this year. Consider this an early Christmas unboxing, an early New Year resolution, go for that new body and let's appreciate each other's story on how we managed to really up the bar for Halloween this year.

Already heard some plan about some of you dressing as the classics; police officers, sporting team coaches or even leather daddy, which sounds solid.

Some of yall also informed me that yall planned to dress up as stereotype like failed-star-turned-OF-influencer, douchebag frat bros or deadbeat blue-collar worker, which might be a bit touche and God forbid yall got affected by their mindset and found yourself struggling to get out of such personas after the party, but hey, I trust that you know what you're doing so that's should be okay.

But my ears perked up when I heard that one of you slid inside a loving, health-conscious, family man with 3 kids and planned to make him do some lewd act a responsible member of society like him will never do.

That's as bad as sleeping with a girl you have a crush on by possessing her boyfriend, that's not nice bro, that's manipulation, but hey, who am I to judge?

I mean I'm literally turning a respectable, hard-working firefighter just to fulfill my hedonistic desire for a one night party, so please, you do you. Just inform me how do you want to come to the party and how many people will you bring so I can properly prepare to welcome any of you. Just don't be a giant or some kind of gory type of cosplay, okay? Let's not complicate a night filled with bunch of people not really looking like themselves with possible crime or property destruction. Oh yeah, almost forgot. If you found this invite at the very last minute and have no costume yet, I have some suits of my crew from the firehouse if you want to borrow them. I figured that why not just spiked the entire firehouse since I'm inside their captain anyway, my associates are using them now for cover but on the 31st, they'll be in another bodies and these are available for you to borrow. First come, first serve though, you cannot ask me to keep it for ya.

So, see you later folks, better dress up well

[honeyedmiller]

A Burning Desire part four

firefighter!joel miller x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist

rating: 18+, minors dni

warnings: joel miller au, reader's family members finally get names in this, a whole lotta tooth-rotting fluff, sexual innuendos, sexual tension, your (fictional) brothers are a pain in the ass, reader has a nickname given by the brothers, smut (unprotected piv, f!oral receiving, fingering, body praise, quick handjob), no use of y/n.

word count: 9.2k (i'm so sorry)

a/n: sorry it took forever. life has been so hectic after graduating. thank you for sticking around <3

synopsis: you and joel take a road trip to san antonio for your sister’s wedding, and with feelings at an all-time high, you find it nearly impossible to resist each other.

“So what time are you and Joel leaving tomorrow?” Your sister asks on the other end of the line. 

Tomorrow was the rehearsal dinner for her wedding, and you had to drive out to San Antonio. Joel promised you countless times that he was more than happy to accompany you to the wedding, even though you warned him countless times about your family. 

“Probably around ten. He’s spending the night tonight so we can just get ready and leave in the morning.” You’re folding the last of your clothes to pack, phone tucked between your shoulder and ear as you mentally double check that you have everything you need in your suitcase. 

“Okay, good. Mom’s kind of upset that she hasn’t met this ‘mystery man’ as she calls it. She’s been dying to know all the details.” 

You roll your eyes and sigh, already knowing this weekend was going to be absolutely exhausting dealing with everyone. 

“She’ll literally meet him tomorrow. I kept our relationship at bay because of how she gets. Not to mention Andrew and Cole, and god knows what they’ll say to Joel tomorrow.” 

Your sister laughs, “That’s true. Can’t imagine they won’t harass him about treating you right. I’ll make sure to keep them in check.” 

“Em, you know they will. They hovered when Christian and I broke up.” 

“I know. But Joel’s a good man. The whole family will love him.” 

“I really hope you’re right.” 

“Always am. Call it big sister’s intuition.” 

“Funny.” You scoff with a smile, closing your suitcase. 

“I know. Hey, Josh and I have to talk to the wedding planner about a few last minute details. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She says. 

“See you tomorrow, Em. Love you.” 

“Love you too!” 

The line goes dead and you sigh, tossing your phone onto your bed. You were trying to mentally prepare yourself for the hellfire you were going to receive after keeping Joel a secret for awhile. You looked at your bedside table and the alarm clock on top of it, red numbers blinking at you to remind you you still had a few more hours until Joel would be coming over. 

Nerves settled in about him meeting your family, but nobody could resist Joel and his Southern charm. You couldn’t help but fantasize that your whole family loved him, welcoming him in with open arms. God, you hope that was the case. 

-

You killed time by cooking some dinner and watching some more of The Bachelor, feeding into the drama of the show. You were so invested that you almost didn’t hear the knock on your door. 

The feeling of giddiness took over your body as you opened the door, revealing your boyfriend. He had a small smile on his face, but his eyes were tired. 

“Hey baby,” You say, stepping to the side for him, “C’mon in. I made us some dinner. Figured you could eat after your shift.” 

Joel groans in appreciation. “Thank you darlin’.” He sets his bag down and closes your door, locking it before wrapping his arms around you. He buried his face into your neck, breathing in your scent for a minute. 

You could sense something was wrong, but you didn’t want to push him about it. Maybe a little shove wouldn’t hurt, though.

You run your fingers through his soft curls before turning your head to the side to kiss his neck, separating yourself from him for a brief moment. 

“You okay?” Worry was evident in your voice, and he couldn’t help but melt at the concern written all over your face as you took his in between your hands. 

He nodded, but you weren’t convinced. You could see it in his eyes, sensing that he was holding something back. 

“You can talk to me, you know. If you’d like. I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready, though.” You take his hand and lead him to the couch, coaxing him to sit down. You climbed behind him, sitting down to slot your thighs on either side of his. 

You start to rub his back, slowly putting pressure on any knots that you’d found. You kiss him between his shoulder blades, silence consuming the both of you for a good few minutes before you hear his faint whisper. 

“Rough shift. Had a call that didn’t go so well. Kinda shook up the whole firehouse.” 

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” You wrap your arms around his torso, resting your cheek on his back. His hands cover yours and swipe his thumbs over you. 

You hear him sniffle and your head shoots up, attempting to turn his head toward you. He resists at first, but eventually melts into your soft touch and turns his face toward yours as you slightly lean over his broad frame. 

“It’s okay, Joel. You never have to hide how you’re feeling from me. If you need to cry about it, that’s fine. I’ll never think you’re less of a man for showing your emotions.” 

He offers you a small smile before leaning in to kiss your forehead, softly knocking his against yours as he sighs. 

“I’ve been so used to suppressin’ rough calls for years. Nobody to turn to except my coworkers n’ Tommy, and even then it’s not somethin’ we all collectively talk about. My ex,” He huffs an angry laugh at the mention of her, “Sarah’s mom. She– she always told me that cryin’ about how tough my job can be sometimes isn’t somethin’ a real man does. No man should cry over a job. So I just pretended. I pretended that the job didn’t affect me anymore, that I was fine every time I came home. I pretended to be okay when in reality I jus’ wanted to fuckin’ scream and cry.” He turns his head to the side again as more tears silently cascade down his beautiful face. 

“Hey, look at me,” Your voice is soft, as if you’re trying not to scare an already frightened animal. “I can promise you that you never have to pretend with me.” You wipe his tears with your thumb, kissing his cheek softly as you continue to gently rub his back. 

“Y’don’t know how much that means to me, darlin’. It’s not easy carryin’ the weight of this job on my shoulders alone. I don’t want to burden you with any of it–”

“Hey, none of that alright? You’re not burdening me. I can’t even imagine the terrible things you’ve seen and endured while on the job. I swear to you that I’m here to listen. Or just be a shoulder to lay on. We don’t even need to talk if you don’t want to, but just know that option is always there.” 

He turns his head to kiss your temple, squeezing his eyes shut before leaning his head back onto your shoulder. 

The “L” word rolled around in your mind for a split second. A month and a half ago, it would’ve scared you. But now, being here with Joel, it just seemed so normal and comfortable. He may have felt the same too, you think. Maybe it was too early to tell. 

-

You wish it was a morning where you and Joel could laze around and relax. Waking up beside him gave you a sense of comfort you hadn’t experienced in so long. You secretly study his face as he sleeps: tan skin glowing from the morning sunlight, eyelashes fanned over his cheeks, messy curls resting haphazardly over his forehead, and plump lips parted as he emits soft snores. 

He’s so handsome. 

You couldn’t help but bring your hand out to trace his face with your fingertips, leaning forward to gently kiss his cheek. 

His eyebrows scrunch together as he slowly begins to wake from his slumber, hands shooting up to rub over his face. His eyes find yours when he drops his hands from his face, a grin curling onto his lips. 

“Mornin’ baby.” His voice was deep and raspy, still full of sleep. It made something stir deep down inside of you. 

“Morning, handsome.” You kiss the tip of his nose before sitting up to get out of bed, but Joel pulls you back by your wrist and maneuvers you so you’re laying on top of him. 

You laugh as he wraps his arms around you securely, making sure you can’t move an inch or wiggle away. 

“We gotta get up and get going, Joel.” 

He groans loudly, the sound vibrating his whole body and yours. “Five more minutes.” His muffled voice says from underneath you. 

“Uh uh, cowboy. C’mon, I’ll make you a thermos of coffee.” You tap his stomach twice before he releases you to stand on your feet. You make your way into the kitchen, fighting the urge to look back at Joel, because you knew you’d give him more than five minutes if you did. 

You start up the coffee pot and lean against the counter, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Joel emerges in the kitchen shortly after, leaning against the wall as he admires you in your sleepy state. 

“What?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow up at him. 

“Nothin’ baby.” He smiles before coming into the kitchen, lifting you up on the counter and slotting himself between your legs. 

“Mmmhm.” You say, putting your hands on his warm chest. You feel his heartbeat beneath your fingertips and notice it’s slightly elevated, which you can’t help but smile at. 

Joel leans in to you and kisses your neck, and you can’t help but loll your head to the side to give him better access. His lips graze over your pulse point and you instinctively grip onto his biceps, trying your hardest to suppress a moan. 

“Joel—” 

“Hm? What is it, pretty girl?” 

“If you keep doing that, we’re never—fuck— never gonna leave in time.” He pokes his tongue out and drags it down your jugular, kissing the base of your neck before lightly nibbling on your soft flesh. 

“Doin’ what, baby?” He teases, smirking against you. 

“You know what, cowboy,” And before he could retort, the coffee maker beeps to indicate Joel’s coffee was done. “Saved by the bell.” You mumble, gently separating yourself from Joel. His honey brown gaze bores into yours as he chuckles at your flustered state before sliding his phone out of his pocket. 

He types in the address to the hotel the wedding party was staying at. Joel meticulously calculates the stops you may need to make along the way before looking at you again. 

 “Should take us about an hour and a half to get there. Two hours if there’s heavy traffic.” 

“It’s not too late to back out, you know.” 

“‘N why would I do that, darlin’?” 

“To save yourself from the chaos that the weekend will bring. I can tell my family you had to work instead. Nobody can get mad at a firefighter for working.” 

Joel tosses his head back as he gutturally laughs, shoulders shaking. The whole thing was a little ridiculous, but you know how your family is, and you were ultimately just looking out for him. 

His gaze meets yours, a glint of adoration in his eyes as he leans forward. You can’t help the stupid grin that curls onto your lips as he gently nudges your body closer to his, finally slotting his lips with yours. 

You’ll never get tired of those butterflies that rumble rambunctiously in your tummy every time you kiss him. 

He leans back a little, and with his irresistible charm, winks at you before he huffs another small laugh. “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.” 

You hop off the counter and pat his abdomen adoringly before flashing him a grin. “Well then, cowboy, let's get to it.”

-

The drive wasn’t as bad as you’d thought it would be, pulling up to the hotel around one in the afternoon. Joel unloads your luggage from the bed of his truck and you wrap your arm around his bicep, walking toward the lobby after he locks up. It was a fancy hotel located right next to the Riverwalk with a huge ballroom for the reception. You had to hand it to your sister and Josh; this place was absolutely beautiful. 

You walked up to the reception desk with Joel in tow, and the spunky brunette smiled as you approached her. 

“Hi, we’re here for the Martinez wedding.” 

“First name?” The receptionist asks, typing something into her computer. You give her your first name and she pulls two keys out of a cardholder, handing it over to you. 

“Ah, sister of the bride! How exciting. You two will be on the seventh floor, third room on the right after you get out of the elevator. Enjoy your stay.” 

“Thank you so much.” You say, taking the card keys from her before you step away from the desk. You and Joel were heading towards the elevator when you heard a familiar voice call your name, and you turned around to see your brothers. 

Panic overtook your body for a few seconds, glancing at Joel who gave you a small smile. How was he always so calm? 

“Thought you could sneak past us without saying hi?” Cole says with a shit-eating grin, eyeing Joel as he comes up to you to give you a hug. 

“You ain’t slick, Shadow.” Andrew says, hugging you after Cole. 

“God, Andy, seriously? That nickname?”

”What, you afraid we’re gonna embarrass you in front of your boyfriend that you’ve been hiding from us?” Cole jerks his head toward Joel, who shifts on his weight as he lets go of his suitcase. 

“Shut up, Cole,” You roll your eyes, huffing a laugh. “Joel, these are my idiot brothers Andrew and Cole. Andy, Cole, this is my boyfriend Joel.” You introduce them, and Joel puts on his best smile before extending his hand. 

“Nice to meet you both.” He says, and it’s comical how both of your brothers try to come off as intimidating toward Joel. Joel keeps a calm demeanor anyhow; his steady, charming smile never wavering. 

“Uh huh. Nice to meet you too. Hey, let us buy you a drink, yeah?” Andrew says, jerking his head toward the bar located at the far end of the lobby. Joel glances at you as you give him a tight-lipped smile, wrapping your hand around his bicep once more. You turn back to your brothers before sighing. 

“Let us put our bags up in our room first before I let you harass him. Jesus.” You half-joke, and Cole claps Joel on the shoulder. 

“What makes you think we’re gonna harass him, Shadow? We’re just looking out for ya.” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Now please let go of his shoulder.” You roll your eyes and tug on Joel’s arm gently, coaxing him to follow you to the elevators. 

“Fine. See you down here in a few.” 

You wave your brothers off before getting into the elevator, hitting the seventh floor button. 

“Jesus, Joel, I’m so sorry. Thought we’d get a chance to fucking breathe before my brothers started literally harassing you.” 

He laughs and shakes his head, giving your temple a kiss. “Ain’t nothin’ to worry about, baby. They’re just bein’ protective. I get it.” 

“Just… take anything they might say with a grain of salt.” 

He chuckles and nods as the elevator dings and the door opens to the seventh floor. You stop in front of your room and open the door, gasping at how beautiful it is. The king bed in the middle looks absolutely heavenly, and your mind can’t help the  image flashing in your mind of you and Joel getting tangled in those very sheets. Heat rushes to your face at the thought, and you walk over to the window to distract yourself. The gleaming summer sun reflects on the calm waters below at the Riverwalk, giving it a mesmerizing gleam. 

Joel wraps his arms around your waist from behind and kisses your shoulder. “Beautiful,” He murmurs, but unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t talking about the water below. 

“We should go back down so my brothers don’t give you more shit than you’re probably going to get.” You grimace at the thought of what they’re going to say to him. 

Joel chuckles and playfully shakes you before loosening his grasp on your midsection. 

“Just promise me you won’t run for the hills if they get to be too much. I’ll put them in their place.” You offer, and Joel kisses your forehead. 

“I’d only run if you were right by my side, baby.” 

-

Joel didn’t know what to expect from your brothers. He could feel the nerves buzzing off of you as you both made your way back to the elevator to go down to the lobby again, and he wanted nothing more than to ease your erratic nerves. 

He knew from the very beginning that he’d be in the long haul of things with you, so he knew facing your family at some point was going to happen. Absolutely nothing your brothers say or do will make him ‘run for the hills’, as you’d put it. 

Joel thought the look you tossed his way when the elevator doors opened to the lobby was adorable. He could tell that you wanted this to go well, and who was he to let you down? 

Joel gave your hand a squeeze as you both made your way up to your brothers again. 

“Joel, how ‘bout that drink.” Andrew says, head jerking toward the bar on the opposite end of the lobby. 

“Sure.” He says, trying to keep his cool. He wondered briefly if this was the slight fear you might’ve felt when you met Sarah. 

“I’m gonna go find mom and Em.” You say, giving Joel a kiss on the cheek. He watches you walk out before your brothers tug him along to the bar area, ordering a round of Lone Star. 

“So I’m a real cut-to-the-chase type guy,” Andrew starts, settling into the barstool next to Joel. Joel nods and sits up straight before taking a swig of his beer to ease his nerves. “I’m sure you’re aware of our sister’s past relationship. Who’s to say you won’t hurt her like that asshole did?” 

Joel was taken aback at Andrew’s bluntness, but his expression never wavered or gave anything away. “I know what it’s like to be hurt in a way that ya can’t ever forget about. The mother of my child left when my baby girl was only a year old. Said she couldn’t handle bein’ a parent n’ left me to fend for myself. Bein’ hurt like that,” Joel shakes his head and looks down, “It ain’t right. I would never want anyone to feel the way I felt when she walked out the door. I know your sister’s situation is a bit different, but my feelings toward it are all the same. I like your sister a whole lot n’ the last thing on God’s green Earth I’d ever wanna do is hurt ‘er.” 

Andrew nods, weighing Joel’s answer in his head. Joel was telling the truth. He’d never want to hurt you. You deserve to be happy, and he knows you can do that completely on your own, but he loves to be the reason behind it. He loves seeing you smile knowing he’s the reason it’s there in the first place. 

“What do you do for work?” Cole changed the subject, and Joel shifts his gaze to the younger brother. 

“I’m a firefighter for the city of Austin.” 

“I’ll be damned. Shadow always said she loved a man in uniform,” Cole teased, and the three men chuckled in unison. 

“How come y’all call her Shadow? She’s never told me anythin’ about that story.” Joel says, and the brothers can’t help but smile at the opportunity to tease their little sister.

“She was afraid of her shadow when she was younger, maybe around like two or three years old. We’d always tease her about it and the nickname just stuck.” 

“‘S actually really funny.” Joel said, thinking about how he’d be able to tease you later on with the newfound information. 

“So how did you meet our sister? She hasn’t told us a damn thing about you.” Cole grimaces, taking a sip of his beer. 

“I met her at a local coffee shop near her apartment. She actually made the first move,” Joel recalls, and he can’t help but smile at the memory. “She paid for my coffee.” 

“That’s pretty out of character for her. She’s usually pretty shy.” Andrew said. 

“Believe me, I was surprised. She was so sweet… after I caught her checkin’ me out. I was in uniform.” Joel laughs, and the brothers join in with him. 

“Told ya she loves a man in uniform.” Cole nudges Joel. 

“You said you’re a firefighter,” Andrew repeats aloud, wheels turning in his head. “Shit, the accident,” He says, looking at Joel. Joel nods, not quite sure where he was going with this. 

“Wasn’t pretty. Got the call and I saw her car—”

“Wait, so you were on the scene? You’re telling me you’re the one who got our sister out of her car?” Andrew was bewildered, blinking rapidly in complete disbelief. 

Joel furrowed his brows and looked down at his knotted hands, reliving that moment in his head. 

“Yeah. I’d only known her for hours at that point, but all I knew was that I needed to get her out of there. Scared the hell outta me.” 

“Unbelievable. Can’t believe she left out that huge detail,” Cole chuckles and shakes his head, but looks up at Joel in all seriousness. “Thank you for saving her.” 

Joel gives them both a soft smile. “I’d save her all over again in a heartbeat.” 

“You’re a damn hero, man. To our sister and to Austin.” 

Joel never knew how to accept compliments that well, let alone the hero compliments. He just saw it as doing his job and getting to help those in need. 

“Well, cheers to you. We can both tell you’re an honest man and anyone who’s willing to literally—and figuratively, I guess—save our sister is a man who has our utmost respect.” Andrew says, holding his beer bottle up in the air. 

Cole raised his bottle and Joel followed suit, an echo of ‘cheers’ being thrown around. Joel’s nerves dissolved like cotton candy in water, relief flooding through his bones that your brothers approved of him. He knew meeting your dad was going to be an even bigger deal, so he was holding onto hope that it would go just as well. 

-

“So when am I meeting this Joel of yours?” Your mom says, perching her glasses on the bridge of her nose as she took a sip of her margarita. You found her and Emily poolside as they sipped their drinks while talking about last minute wedding details. 

“He’s at the bar in the lobby getting harassed by Andy and Cole.” You roll your eyes, and Emily laughs. 

“He’s a good man. I’m sure they’re all buddy-buddy now. Men are simple when it comes to meeting new people.” Emily waves her hand dismissively, easing your nerves a little. 

“Where’s dad?” You ask, looking between Emily and your mom. 

Your mom scoffs, “He’s upstairs taking a nap. Told him he wouldn’t be tired tonight but he seemed to think otherwise.” 

“He’s probably overwhelmed with all the wedding stuff.” You offer with a shrug, and your mom huffs. 

“He isn’t the one planning the damn thing.” 

“There you guys are!” Cole calls out to you three, Andrew and Joel in tow. Your eyes lock on Joel’s gaze and you’re relieved to see he made it out of the interrogation unscathed. 

He makes his way over to you, leaning down to give you a chaste kiss. 

“So you must be Joel.” Your mom says, eyes alight at the exchange you and Joel had. 

“I am. It’s so great to meet you, Mrs.—”

Your mom waves her hand to dismiss his formalities. “Oh, none of that. Just call me Alexandria. It’s nice to finally meet the man who’s been making my youngest daughter so happy.” She grins up at him, and it was easy to clock the blush that spreads over his tan cheeks. 

“I can argue that she makes me the happiest I’ve ever been.” He looks down at you and shoots you a wink, and you can’t help but roll your eyes playfully. 

“Touché, Miller.” You say, warmth filling your body as he wraps his arm around your waist. 

Everyone got into chatting about the rehearsal dinner and the bar of choice afterwards, scampering off to their respective rooms. 

It only took a couple of hours for everyone to get ready and head down to the lobby, being shuffled into the courtyard by hotel staff. Sage green and cream decorations adorned the spacious place with rows of chairs neatly lined up for the big day tomorrow. The gazebo at the end of the walkway was strewn with fairy lights that gave a soft glow that added to to romantic ambience. 

For a split second, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what your future wedding would look like… with Joel. You may have been presumptuous in thinking such a thing, but you truly felt deep down that this was the man you were meant to marry. 

The wedding coordinator lined all of the bridesmaids and groomsmen up, and you took your respectable place next to Karina who was your sister’s best friend and maid of honor. 

After two full run-throughs of the ceremony and placement adjustments, the wedding coordinator took everyone to the ballroom where the reception was being held.

It wasn’t long before everyone finished their dinners, polite conversation being held as the night went on. 

“So you’re the Joel everyone’s been buzzing about.” Your dad says, and you give him a stern look to say go easy on him. Not that Joel couldn’t handle himself, but because your dad could get a little out of hand at times. 

“Yes sir, that’s me.” He says, grabbing your hand underneath the table to give it a squeeze. 

“I hear you’re a firefighter. Good man.” Your dad nods in approval, and proceeds to ask Joel about some calls he’s gotten in the past. Everyone at the table was listening intently to him, curious as to what life as a firefighter is really like. 

Your gaze roams to your mom, who’s already looking between you and Joel with a sparkle in her eye you’d never seen before. She gives you a wink and sips her wine, turning her attention back to Joel. 

It seems his Southern charm and calm demeanor had won every single one of your family members over, and relief floods through your body at that. That’s all you wanted, and you couldn’t have been happier to see it become a reality. 

-

After dinner, Josh and Emily told everyone that they weren’t having a ‘traditional’ bachelor and bachelorette party. Instead, they wanted to go to a bar together and have a few drinks with everyone as one last celebration before they both say I do. 

It wasn’t surprising to you. Your sister had always been the homebody type and Josh was right there with her. You thought it was romantic in a sense, knowing that they really didn’t need anything big or to spend time apart before their big day. 

The bar was a few buildings down from the hotel, with a huge dance floor in the middle and patrons singing along to the mix of music that was playing as they drank. 

Your dad ordered a round of shots for everybody, making a toast to Josh and Emily. 

“To the bride and groom to be.” Your dad says, and everyone clinks their glasses together before throwing back their liquor. 

You shudder at the taste, setting the cup down onto the sticky bartop. 

“May I have this dance?” Joel asks you, holding his hand out for you to take. You grin and grab his hand, grip steady as he leads you out to the dance floor. 

You steadily sway to the song as you lean your head on Joel’s shoulder, letting him guide you to the beat. You glance up to see your family members have joined you both on the dance floor, and you smile in content as you squeeze Joel’s hand. He kisses your head before separating you, spinning you around so your back is against his front. 

He rocks you slowly, resting his chin on your shoulder before kissing your cheek. 

“‘M real happy you let me tag along this weekend, sweetheart.” Joel says, and you turn your head toward him and quirk an eyebrow. 

“Yeah? And why’s that?” 

“‘S nice to get out of Austin every once in a while. Your family is real invitin’, too.” 

“Before or after they interrogated you?” You ask with a smirk, and he laughs before spinning you again so you’re face-to-face. 

“Mostly after.” He confesses with a softness to his voice. You study his features unashamedly, the soft smile he has on his lips making your heart skip a beat as he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. 

There’s a certainty behind them that you can’t exactly pinpoint, but it made your whole body feel warm and fuzzy inside and you honest to god never wanted to forget the feeling. Joel is the only man who’s made you feel things you’ve never felt. He’s the only man who’s ever kept you on your toes yet has this overwhelming sense of comfort to him that just makes you want to give it all to him. 

And by the way he was looking back at you, you’d bet his thoughts are similar to yours. 

“You two are so in love it makes me sick.” Andrew sidles up beside you, nudging you in your ribs. 

Your eyes go wide and you look at your brother in panic, pleading him to shut the fuck up before you kill him with your bare hands. 

“Fuck off, Andy.” You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. You didn’t deny the painfully obvious fact, though. You didn’t want to deny it. 

Was it fast? Yes. But you couldn’t help how you felt. You were tired of running from something that was great for you. You were tired of running from solidity and peace and patience and love, all of which Joel gave you without having to say a single word. 

And then you realized—Joel never denied it either. He didn’t deny it when your brother’s loud mouth said that sacred word. He didn’t deny it when you looked at him again, that familiar look in his eyes returning as he just smiled at you, seemingly content in every possible way. 

Before you could say anything, Cole comes up to you while waving a crisp twenty dollar bill in your face. 

“Betcha one Jackson that you can’t ride that bull over there and stay on for more than a minute.” He’s got a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you’d take any opportunity to prove your brother wrong. 

“Oh, I will. After this song though,” You grin at Joel as Boot Scootin’ Boogie plays over the speakers. “C’mon cowboy, I wanna show off my new moves.” 

Joel easily obliges as he takes you deeper onto the dance floor. You’re slotted in a mix of a sweaty and drunken crowd, too far gone to care if they’re too off-beat or embarrassing themselves. 

You follow Joel’s lead and you two easily end up in sync with one another, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Somewhere between the spin in the chorus and the two-step move he’d taught you, you catch your family members staring at the two of you. Your mom whispers something to your sister, and you hope to god she didn’t change her opinion of him or something after seeing you two dancing like this. 

Emily knows you better than the back of her fucking hand, though, and she instantly reassures you with a smile and thumbs up before panic settles into your bones. 

Although it seems everyone in your immediate family approves of Joel, it would devastate you if they changed their minds about him for whatever reason. He wasn’t your ex. They at least knew that much. As much as you loved them, they were overbearing sometimes when it came to protecting you after what’d happened with Christian. You didn’t need that to drive a wedge between you and Joel, no matter how much of a forewarning you give him. 

The song ends and reality trickles back around you, as Joel spins you into him, giving you a chaste kiss. Your eyes flutter open after you pull away in the slightest, and there it is — that look — unwavering, and clear as day in his eyes. 

“Go show ‘em how you ride it.” He remarks, shooting you a wink. Your face heats at his obvious innuendo, and he can’t help the sly smirk that grows on his lips. 

Without another word, he releases you from his grasp and urges you toward your brother, still waving the twenty in his hand around like a flag. 

You roll your eyes at him and climb up onto the mechanical bull, the DJ timing you into when the machine will start to move. 

It was slow at first, and you easily found a rhythm to keep steady on its back. It started to jerk around and spin faster, and your thighs burned as you clenched onto the sides for dear life. You wanted to give a little show though, so you placed your hands behind your back and looked up at your brother with a wicked grin. 

His face deflated as he knew he’d been beaten. Your eyes flicker to Joel and you want to laugh at his expression—it seemed to be a cross between lust, admiration and astonishment. 

Oh, cowboy. You have no idea what you’re in for. 

The DJ announces your victory and the patrons of the bar cheer you on as you hop off of the bull. You walk up to Cole and snatch the twenty bucks from his hand before leaning into Joel, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Wanna go back to the hotel room? I’m beat.” You ask Joel, and he nods. You say goodnight to your family and other members of the wedding party before you both head back in a comfortable silence. 

Exhaustion settles in your bones as you fall into step side-by-side, and Joel pulls you into him as you walk into the lobby of the hotel. You make your way onto the elevators and Joel presses the button of your floor, looking at you with a softness in his eyes as he settles his hand on your shoulder. 

“Thank you again for doing this whole wedding fiasco with me.” You say, voice full of exhaustion. He shoots you a soft smile and pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you securely. You mirror his actions as you look at him, an adoring gaze sparkling in his eyes. He leans in and kisses your forehead, giving your body a small squeeze. 

“Of course, darlin’.” 

You went to bed that night with Joel’s arm wrapped around you and a mind of racing thoughts, all consumed by that feeling again—the terrifying, wonderful feeling that kept playing in your mind as if it was the most obvious conclusion you’ve ever come to. 

-

The next morning was a blur. You got up early, trying not to disturb Joel because he looked so peaceful in his sleep. It was chaos amongst the bridal party with everyone getting ready and your sister revealing her final look to the girls. Tears sprang in your eyes as you saw her with the biggest smile on her face, unwavering as she twirled around in her dress that fit like a glove. 

“Emi, you look so beautiful. Josh is going to lose it when he sees you.” You say, sniffling as she gives you a tight hug. 

“I love you sis. Thank you for being a part of my big day.” She says, rubbing your back before pulling apart from you. You grin at her and blow her a kiss, turning when you feel your mom slightly nudge you. 

“Speaking of losing it, Joel’s gonna be head over heels seeing you in this dress,” Your mom says, “Wonder what he’ll be like when it’s your guys’ wedding and he sees you in a bridal gown.”

“Mom,” You stop her, but you can’t help the way your heart stutters at the thought of marriage with him. “Please don’t.”

Way too fucking soon. Right?

Your mom throws her hands up in defense, giving you a knowing look. 

“That man is in love with you, baby. He looks at you like you’re the sun, moon and stars.” 

That feeling tugged at you once again. You began to internally panic, but luckily the bridal party got called to an area in the hotel to take pictures. You needed a distraction, because knowing you and your mind, you’d unintentionally start self-sabotaging your relationship with Joel. 

Fuck, your ex really did a number on you. 

The day seemed to run by in a blur. Watching your sister say ‘I do’ to the love of her life made you glance over at Joel in the crowd, and to your surprise, his focus was already on you. 

There was this undeniably soft look in his eyes that said a million words without him having to utter a single one. He winks at you with a small smile and you mirror his grin, heading back down the aisle after Emily and Josh made their way down. 

A few hours later it was well into the reception, and Joel offered you his hand so you could slow dance with each other. 

“You know this thing drives me crazy, right?” You say, tapping the brim of his Stetson. He looked at you with a smirk, raising his eyebrows. 

“Really? Couldn’t tell.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice and you rolled your eyes as you huffed a laugh. He was wearing an emerald green button down with black slacks and black shoes, and his black cowboy hat tied the whole look together. He’d been getting stares all night by various family members and friends from both sides of the parties. 

You thought jealousy would’ve brewed its way into you, sinking her claws into your flesh—but it was the complete opposite. Pride blooms in your chest as you slow dance with this handsome man—your handsome man. 

“You look absolutely breathtakin’ tonight though, baby.” Joel whispers in your ear as you lean your head on his shoulder, taking in his addicting scent. 

You smile against him and bring your arm up over his other shoulder, gently wrapping your fingers around the base of his neck. Your index finger twirls the curls peeking out of the bottom of his hat absentmindedly, swaying with him with total ease. 

“I can say the same for you.” You murmur, and he squeezes your waist softly. 

“Yeah?” 

You lift your head off of his shoulder to meet his gaze, light and playful. A glint of mischief flashes in his eyes and you bite your lip in anticipation, the bubbling arousal having never left you since the previous night. 

You nod, hesitating for a second to find the right words. You knew you wanted to take the next step with him and finally go all the way without being interrupted. That is, if he’d have you. 

“I’d love to show you.” You whisper as the song ends. An upbeat tune plays immediately after, everyone crowding on the dance floor. It was the perfect time to make an escape. 

He links his fingers with yours, leaning forward to kiss you. You can’t help but smile as his lips press to yours, and you can’t help yourself—you take the hat off of his head mid-kiss, plopping it onto yours. He separates himself from you with a soft smile and a daring glint in his gaze. 

He tsked at you teasingly, adjusting the hat to sit straight onto your head. 

“What was that about the ‘Cowboy Hat Rule’ again?” You feign innocence, and he can’t help but laugh at your antics, ultimately deciding to play along. 

“How ‘bout I show you rather than tell you?” He says, and that’s all you need to gently tug him away from the crowd and toward the lobby. You make your way to the elevators, nerves buzzing through your veins at the prospect of what’s to happen. 

After what feels like forever, the elevator doors finally open and you both step inside. The doors close after Joel hits the seventh floor button, and the tension radiating off of both of you in such a confined space was nearly unbearable. 

Joel takes his hat off of your head and gently pushes you against the elevator wall, crowding you with his broad body. Your heart is beating a million miles a minute as you stare at him, gaze never wavering. 

You open your mouth to say something, but Joel crashes his lips to yours in fervor. You moan into the kiss as you tangle your hands through his curls, tugging on the base of them. 

His free hand finds your hip and squeezes, rutting his hips into yours. You can feel his bulge through his slacks, and you can’t help but whimper into the intense kiss as one hand travels down his back. 

Before you can touch him any further, the elevator dings and he separates from you, locking eyes with an elderly couple. 

The woman has a knowing smile on her face and sighs, “Oh, to be young and in love.” Joel takes your hand and leads you out of the elevator and to your shared room, fumbling with the key. It almost calms you in a way to know you aren’t the only one filled with nerves, anxious about finally being able to have this time to yourselves. 

Joel tossed the keycard onto the side table when he finally got it open, putting his hand on your lower back to guide you into the room. The soft glow of the lamp illuminates his handsome features as he stares at you admirably, tossing his Stetson onto a chair next to the bed without looking. 

Joel steps closer to you, grabbing your hips gently before leaving a trail of kisses from your forehead, nose, cheek, and finally, your lips. The kiss was softer this time—full of emotion, saying a thousand words with one simple gesture. 

His hands skate up your back and to the zipper of your dress, parting his lips from yours as he looks into your eyes. 

“Can I?” His voice is soft but hopeful, and you instantly nod. He drags the zipper down your back with ease, slowly removing the straps from your shoulders. The dress pools to your feet below you, and you’re left in a lacy nude and black bra with black panties. Joel’s eyes rake over your body hungrily, hands twitching at his sides. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” 

You can’t help but feel shy for a second, but Joel wasn’t having any of that. He grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, kissing your lips a few times before he nods his head to the bed. 

“On the bed, baby. Spread your legs for me.” His deep, commanding tone sent a shiver down your spine. You didn’t know what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t this. 

You do as you’re told, settling your head onto the plush pillows as you let your legs fall open. Joel moves to untuck his green shirt. He unbuttons the shirt slowly, never breaking eye contact with you. You bite your lip teasingly as you watch him undress, and his thick, tan torso comes into sight. 

“Fuck, you’re so sexy, you know that?” You say, but it nearly sounds like a whine. Joel flashes you a smirk before climbing onto the bed, slotting himself between your legs. Your arms grip his shoulders before grabbing the green material, sliding it off of his arms completely before tossing it onto the floor for him. You kiss his shoulder and neck, hands moving up to tangle themselves in his curls once again. 

He ruts his hips into you, and the pressure of his bulge catches perfectly onto your aching clit. You moan his name softly, moving one hand down to gently palm him through his slacks.  

“Can’t believe we finally get to do this without any interruptions.” Joel chuckles, moving down to kiss your neck. 

“Let’s not hold our breaths.” You say teasingly, fingers moving to unbutton and unzip his slacks. He allows it, not stopping you from eagerly undressing the rest of him. 

He separates himself from you, sliding the slacks down his legs before moving down the bed, kissing your body as he goes. His tongue traces lines down your thighs, dangerously close to your aching core, before he kisses your skin. He continues the assault of kisses until his mouth is hovering over the only thing that separates your most intimate part from him and his line of sight. He kisses the lace fabric once, then pokes his tongue out to drag the strong muscle from your entrance to your clit. 

You can’t hold back your moans anymore. You need him so bad. 

Your body was nearly shaking from the buzz of anticipation coursing through your veins, aching to have his hands and mouth all over you. 

He finally hooks his fingers into the side of your panties, tapping your hips twice to silently instruct you to lift them. You comply once more, and Joel drags the lace material down your legs. 

He comes back up to you, kissing your lips once before settling his face between your legs again. 

You feel so exposed and almost embarrassed, but the carnal need for this man outweighs the shyness a thousand times over. 

“So perfect, baby. So goddamn perfect. ‘N all mine.” He says, looking up at you before separating your glistening folds with his middle and forefinger. You gasp and whine his name as he just stares at you, mesmerized by the way you squirm under his touch. 

You try to beg and plead him to do anything, but the words won’t come out. 

He seems to have decided he’s teased you enough, because the next thing you know, his tongue licks a long stripe up from your entrance, through your folds, and up to your clit. Your moans only spur him on as he solely focuses on you, eating your pussy like a starved man. 

Nobody has ever turned you on the way Joel Miller has, and you cannot for the life of you believe this man is yours. He’s yours, and he’s here, very present and very meticulous when it comes to pleasing you with that beautiful mouth of his. 

Joel moves his tongue down and prods into your entrance, fucking you with the muscle. Your back arches off of the mattress and he has to use both of his hands to hold your hips down, locking his fingers down into your flesh. 

“Fuck, Joel—” You squeak out as his tongue moves up to your clit, circling it a few times before sucking it into his mouth gently. The pressure is just right, and your brain is getting fuzzy—you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. 

Joel takes one of his hands away from your stomach before separating his mouth from you, coating his digits in your slick. He sends a wicked smirk your way before going down again, and this time, his middle and ring finger enter you. 

It stings so good, mainly because you haven’t had this in a long time. He pumps his fingers in and out of you at an expert pace, curling them up to hit that sweet spongy spot. 

You immediately crumble. Your hips are writhing wildly beneath his half-soaked face as you cry out his name over and over again. You’re gushing all over his fingers, desperately gripping onto the soft comforter beneath you as you ride out your intense orgasm. 

“Atta girl,” Joel breathes, mesmerized by the way you clench around nothing after he removes his fingers from you. “Taste so fuckin’ good, darlin’.” 

He moves up to kiss you, and you can immediately taste your slick arousal on his lips and tongue. You hum into the kiss as you palm him through his boxers, tugging on the band as you separate from him. He knocks his forehead against yours gently before sliding the material down his legs, now completely bare for you. 

His hand moves to the clasp of your bra and unhooks it easily, breasts spilling out as he tosses the material on the floor with the rest of the clothes. 

He looks down at you with a soft smile, and you can’t help but mirror his actions. It’s pure bliss and you selfishly never want this to end. His hand travels down your body and in between your legs, swirling the tip of his middle finger through your arousal. You gasp at the featherlight touch, clenching around nothing as he never breaks eye contact with you. 

You decide to return the favor, licking your hand before skimming your fingers over his torso before looking down to see them slide through the dark hairs that appear below his navel. You take in the sight of his cock; it’s girthy and the perfect length. You just know it’ll feel divine. You thumb the pre-come leaking from his tip, popping your finger into your mouth. 

You moan at the slightly salty taste, moving your hand back down to finally grip him with care. He feels heavy in your palm, warm and pulsating and fucking desperate for you to start rythmically moving your hand. You twist your wrist and start to pump him, and a guttural groan rumbles from the confines of his chest. 

“Fuck, baby—yeah, just like that. So good.” He groans softly, brows furrowing as he leans down to kiss you. 

And you spend the next few minutes like that—making out with Joel while he teases your swollen clit, fingers briefly delving into your entrance before moving back out, and your hand slowly twisting up and down his silky flesh. 

Something about this was so sweet to you, albeit the act being promiscuous. You were taking your time with each other, savoring every moment you have now. God knows when you’ll be able to do this in peace again once you get back to Austin. 

Joel’s body tenses for a second before he pushes your hand away, chuckling in defeat. 

“Don’t wanna come yet, sweetheart.”

You nod in understanding and he slips his fingers away from your dripping heat, bringing them up to your mouth. You eagerly suck on his fingers, staring up at him in a way to say I want you. I’m ready to have you—if you’ll have me. 

Joel climbs on top of you once more, kissing your forehead. He nudges his nose against yours before looking at you again. 

“Wait, I didn’t bring any protection.” His shoulders deflate at the realization, and you can’t help but softly laugh. 

“I have an IUD, Joel. Only if you’re comfortable with going through with this, I’m right there with you.” You reassure him. 

He looks concerned for a second, hesitating as if his mind is running a million miles a minute. 

“You sure about this, baby?” He asks, cupping your cheek in his hand before kissing your nose. You nod with no hesitation. 

“Absolutely sure, Joel. I’m yours.” You whisper, and he can’t help the grin that spreads across his face before he leans down to kiss you. He swipes the head of his cock through your folds, stopping at your entrance. 

He separates his lips from yours once more, “Tell me to stop if it’s too much, okay?” He says, and you nod. He hums in content, pushing himself into you slowly. 

You gasp at the stinging feeling, fingertips digging into the back of his shoulders. 

“There you go baby, that's it. Doin’ so well, pretty girl.” He praises, kissing your lips repeatedly as he reaches the hilt. 

The feeling is cosmic. The stretch is absolutely delicious. You whisper his name to him, threading your fingers through his hair once more in desperation as your meek voice finally found its way aloud. 

“Move, Joel. Please.” 

And he does. He starts off slow, rocking his hips into yours. The slide of his velvety length in and out of you is otherworldly. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he held onto the back of your neck, picking up his pace. He leans down to capture one of your breasts in his mouth, swirling his tongue expertly around your pert nipple as he continues rocking his hips into yours. 

Your moans are increasingly louder, not exactly giving a fuck who can hear you anymore. Your mind was solely consumed about the man ravishing your body in such a way that had you seeing stars. 

The weight of his body on yours, his soft groans, the heavy feeling of his cock, his scent, his curls—everything about him was all-consuming, and you loved it. 

“So pretty, baby. Feel so fuckin’ good. All mine.” Joel babbles, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. You try to grind your hips in sync with his expert thrusts, creating an almost unbearably pleasurable friction. 

Your hands fly to his back and you scratch down his skin, head flying back onto the pillows as you arch your back into him. 

“Joel, fuck, I’m so close.” You cry, eyes squeezing shut as the familiar flame burns bright within your core. 

“Me too, baby, fuck—where–where do you want me?” He asks, chest heaving as his thrusts become impossibly faster. 

“In me, Joel. Please.” Your plea is breathy and desperate, and you feel yourself teetering over the edge, devastating euphoria ripping through your body as your cunt convulses around his cock. 

You bury your face into his shoulder, crying out his name. 

“Fuck, sweet girl, I—” 

His spend is warm as he comes, buried in you as he groans your name breathlessly. He slumps down onto you, wrapping his arm around your waist as he rolls over on his side, taking you with him. He slips out of you slowly and you both groan at the loss of contact. 

You nuzzle into him as he kisses your forehead repeatedly, running his hand up and down your spine as you both come down from the high. 

“Fuck, that was—” You pause, and Joel chuckles. 

“Yeah, it really was.” He agrees, tipping your jaw up so he can kiss you chastely. 

Your eyes were heavy now, tracing his hairline down to his jaw and to his lips. He kisses your fingers as exhaustion consumes you both. He throws the comforter over your bodies and he gives you one last kiss. 

“Goodnight, sweet girl,” And if you weren’t in such a comatose-like state, you would’ve heard him softly whisper the words “I love you.” 

And if you would’ve heard those words, you would’ve said them right back. It might’ve scared the hell out of you, but you could no longer deny the fact—

You were, in fact, in love with Joel Miller, too. 

taglist: @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @endlessthxxghts ; @punkshort ; @pamasaur ; @clawdee ; @pascalpvnk ; @bensonispunk ; @merz-8 ; @darkblue-tennesseee ; @typewriter83 ; @lizzie-cakes ; @sawymredfox ; @keylimebeag ; @nandan11 ; @pedropascalsbbg ; @pimosworld ; @yxtkiwiyxt ; @anoverwhelmingdin ; @kikaaauu ; @buckyispunk ; @untamedheart81 ; @picketniffler ; @fluffygoffpanda ; @paleidiot ; @survivingandenduring ; @party-hearses

divider by @saradika-graphics

[aeth-eris]

★ how do you serve society? - 6th house ★

★ aries in the 6th house approaches work with a pioneering spirit and a desire for action, bringing dynamic energy to their everyday tasks. they’re known for their independence, preferring to jump into projects without hesitation and excel in roles where they can be hands-on, especially when working under pressure or tight deadlines. driven by their natural assertiveness, aries here can serve as motivators and initiators, setting things in motion and helping others find the courage to act. they’re ideal in careers that demand a fast response and where taking calculated risks is a part of the job. fields like firefighting, emergency response, personal training, sports coaching, or military service are ideal, where they can directly impact lives through decisive action. their ability to step up in intense situations and inspire others makes them invaluable in environments that require a quick pace and the courage to lead.

★ taurus in the 6th house brings a calm, steady, and patient approach to service, focusing on creating enduring results in their work. they are known for their dedication, and they approach their tasks with a strong sense of responsibility and reliability. whether in finance, wellness, or culinary fields, taurus enjoys roles where they can work with their hands or provide a tangible product that offers comfort and value. careers as chefs, gardeners, financial advisors, bankers, interior designers, or jewelry makers align well with their need to create stability and beauty. their attention to quality and their patient persistence allow them to complete projects meticulously, bringing satisfaction to themselves and security to others. they create a lasting impact by focusing on building environments and products that bring comfort, peace, and resilience, serving as a grounding force in any workplace.

★ gemini in the 6th house serves society through communication, adaptability, and a knack for connecting people and ideas. they enjoy variety in their work and thrive in settings that stimulate their minds, often multitasking and moving between projects. gemini here excels in roles that require quick thinking, a friendly demeanor, and the ability to explain complex ideas in a way that others can understand. jobs such as journalist, teacher, translator, social media manager, event planner, or customer service representative allow them to use their communication skills fully. they enjoy networking and exchanging information, bringing people together and making things happen smoothly. by embracing roles where flexibility and curiosity are required, they keep themselves and those around them informed and engaged, ensuring that environments remain energized and efficient.

★ cancer in the 6th house brings a nurturing, emotionally attuned approach to work, often finding fulfillment in roles where they can provide direct care or create a supportive atmosphere for others. highly empathetic, cancer here serves through their ability to sense and respond to the needs of others, creating an environment that feels safe and comfortable. they naturally gravitate toward roles that require empathy and a gentle touch, such as nurse, caregiver, counselor, therapist, chef, or social worker. their presence in these roles provides a sense of security, as they often go out of their way to ensure that others feel heard and supported. cancer individuals bring a familial energy to their workplace, taking the time to build strong relationships with colleagues and clients alike, serving as a foundation of care and understanding in their environments.

★ leo in the 6th house serves with enthusiasm, warmth, and a creative flair, approaching work as an opportunity to make an impact and inspire others. they bring positivity, often brightening the atmosphere in their work environments through their lively presence. naturally drawn to the spotlight, leo here enjoys roles that allow them to express themselves or take charge, often excelling in acting, motivational speaking, event planning, management, public relations, or teaching. they work best in environments where their contributions are recognized and where they can uplift others, motivating teams with their confidence and encouragement. leo’s generous spirit and zest for life make them a powerful force for positivity, capable of turning routine tasks into meaningful contributions. by leading with passion, they foster a sense of pride and excitement, making work enjoyable and inspiring for everyone involved.

★ virgo in the 6th house epitomizes the essence of service, bringing practicality, organization, and an attention to detail that is unmatched. they often seek out work that allows them to analyze, improve, and create structure, thriving in positions that involve precision and dedication to quality. roles like researcher, doctor, nutritionist, editor, accountant, or administrator suit their methodical approach, as they enjoy tasks that demand accuracy and careful planning. virgo here serves society by ensuring that processes are efficient and that details are meticulously checked, making them invaluable in any team. their dedication to improvement makes them reliable and highly respected by colleagues, as they’re willing to go the extra mile to make things right. they serve as the backbone of their work environments, creating order and supporting others in achieving the best possible results.

★ libra in the 6th house brings diplomacy, cooperation, and a refined sense of aesthetics to their work, aiming to create harmony and beauty in their environments. they naturally excel in roles that require tact, fairness, and an understanding of social dynamics, making them ideal as mediators, human resources specialists, designers, lawyers, counselors, or event coordinators. libra here serves society by building relationships and facilitating smooth collaboration, often acting as a bridge between people. they’re drawn to work that promotes justice, balance, and beauty, bringing charm and grace to their interactions. their skill in diplomacy allows them to resolve conflicts and encourage teamwork, fostering environments where everyone feels valued and included. by focusing on fairness and aesthetics, they help create a workplace that feels balanced and visually pleasing, adding a touch of sophistication to everything they do.

★ scorpio in the 6th house approaches work with intensity, focus, and a relentless drive to get to the root of matters, often gravitating toward roles that involve investigation, healing, or deep transformation. they excel in fields that require confidentiality, trust, and the ability to handle sensitive situations, such as psychology, detective work, surgery, crisis counseling, research, or financial analysis. scorpio here serves society by confronting issues others may shy away from, showing resilience and courage in the face of difficulty. they’re skilled at uncovering hidden truths and have a natural ability to bring healing to deep wounds, making them invaluable in roles that demand depth and focus. their presence often brings a sense of security to their teams and clients, as they’re willing to go where others cannot, offering solutions that are powerful and life-changing.

★ sagittarius in the 6th house brings an adventurous and optimistic spirit to work, often seeking roles that allow them to explore ideas, cultures, or perspectives. they serve society by inspiring others to broaden their horizons and embrace learning, often excelling as professors, travel agents, coaches, writers, cultural anthropologists, or tour guides. in these roles, sagittarius brings enthusiasm for growth and an open-minded approach to challenges, helping others to see the bigger picture. they thrive in environments that allow for intellectual freedom and movement, whether through teaching, travel, or engaging with diverse viewpoints. by sharing their expansive vision, sagittarius in the 6th encourages others to think more deeply and adopt a sense of adventure in their own lives, promoting cultural understanding and intellectual curiosity in their communities.

★ capricorn in the 6th house brings a disciplined, structured approach to work, often striving for tangible results and a stable foundation in their roles. they’re naturally suited to positions that involve responsibility, planning, and achieving long-term goals, excelling in roles like manager, engineer, architect, project coordinator, government official, or financial planner. capricorn here serves society by providing a steady hand and a results-driven mindset, often taking on roles of authority where they can make meaningful impacts. their commitment to excellence and high standards make them trusted leaders, as they work tirelessly to ensure that tasks are completed efficiently and effectively. they create a sense of order and reliability in their environments, serving as a stabilizing force for those around them and often becoming pillars of support in their communities.

★ aquarius in the 6th house serves with innovation, humanitarian ideals, and a desire to improve society, often challenging norms and seeking new, progressive solutions. they’re drawn to roles that allow them to advocate for change and foster community, excelling as social workers, scientists, technology developers, activists, environmentalists, or community organizers. aquarius here serves society by promoting equality and social progress, often bringing fresh ideas to their work environments and inspiring others to think beyond traditional boundaries. they thrive in unconventional settings and are deeply committed to causes that promote the well-being of humanity. with a focus on technology, community, and human rights, aquarius brings a forward-thinking energy to their workplaces, making an impact by encouraging others to embrace innovation and collective growth.

★ pisces in the 6th house serves with compassion, intuition, and creativity, often finding fulfillment in roles that allow them to support emotional or spiritual healing. they are naturally drawn to work where they can bring comfort and empathy to others, excelling as artists, spiritual healers, musicians, counselors, nurses, or mental health therapists. in these fields, pisces serves society by offering a gentle and empathetic presence, often helping those who need emotional support or creative expression. they’re skilled at tapping into the emotions of others, making them invaluable in professions that require sensitivity and a holistic approach to care. pisces here brings a sense of unity and understanding to their work environments, creating spaces where people feel safe to express and heal, often providing a compassionate escape from the challenges of daily life.

[yoonia]

blooming wallflowers (m) | knj

⟶ Summary | Your life has been in shambles with only your two sweet girls keeping you strong enough to carry on. It has been a while since the flame of desire you once had within you dim into almost nothing, until the man who spends his life fighting against arson comes into your life (and your two little girls’) only to help light up that fire once again

⟶ Title | Blooming Wallflowers ⟶ Pairings | Kim Namjoon x older female reader  ⟶ Genre | Firefighter!Namjoon, Single mother!reader, Smut, Angst ⟶ Word count | 20,800 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; allusions of past/toxic relationships, healing, usage of alcohol and drinking, dealing with insecurities, age gap with older female reader (OC is in her mid-30s), trapped in confined spaces; contains explicit smut scenes, including: sexual tension, dirty talk, light restraint, soft dom!Namjoon, switching positions and roles (OC taking control at some point), clothed foreplay, grinding, dry humping, thigh riding, implied body worship, breasts play, fingering, clit play, pussy slapping, riding, grinding, semi-public sex (does dining room count?), pet names, groping, biting, edging, oral sex (female receiving), minor hand-job, panty ripping, clit biting, panty sniffing, praise kink, hair pulling, rough sex, protective sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation.  ⟶ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @KimCheeHoo | I’m so sorry this took me forever to finish. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. I hope you’ll enjoy this story. Have fun reading!  ⟶ Story Note 1 | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story has POV switches, and this is roughly edited, so forgive me for any mistakes. Banner design made by me, age warning divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: September 25th, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Also written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Hold Me Tight - Dilf/Milf AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Situationship ⟡ Inclusions: Edging, Fingering, Angst/Hurt, Restraints

⟶ Music companion | Blue Rain, Make You Mine ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Ko-fi | Commission  ⟶ Read on AO3 ⟶ Short story: Dinner with Mista Joonie

On some days, you would feel like you are finally getting your shit together. 

But today is not one of those days. 

“Mommy! Hana is trying to bite me!” You hear your oldest whine as she hugs the pancake batter box to her chest. Shaking your head, you can only guess that her sister has been trying to take that box away from her hands. 

“No, I did not!” Hana, your youngest daughter argues back, “Mommy, Suzy won’t let me use the scanning thingy.” 

Suzy narrows her eyes and scoffs. She has been doing this expression a lot lately. It took you weeks after you first saw her making such an expression to figure out that she had somehow gotten it from you. Hana’s new biting habit, however, is something that you have yet to figure out how and when it started. 

“You’re such a baby,” Suzy says, rolling her eyes, which only riles up her sister more.  

“I am not!” 

“Yes, you are. That’s why you can’t do this. Babies don’t do what grown-ups do.” 

Sullen, Hana props her hands on her hips and lifts her chin, as if it would make her look bigger against her sister while whining, “But you’re not a grown-up too!” 

Watching them go at each other, you cannot decide whether you want to laugh or cry. 

Hana’s attitude reminds you of someone. You, perhaps, no doubt as the only role model she currently has to copy some of that sassy attitude from. You probably should feel embarrassed—deep down, you do, you are somewhere in public, after all—as the girls continue fighting, their voices loud enough to draw some attention, with the addition of being super dramatic about it. 

Only for them to have a turn at helping you with the self-checkout counter. 

You know the reason why you cannot find it in you to be mad at them. Not when the girls are showing you that they are the perfect carbon copy of you—not that you are the kind to have a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket, at least not at this age—and when they are always full of surprises. And you cannot deny that they are so stinking cute. 

Suzy, the bigger one out of the two, is mostly quiet and sweet. As a six-year-old girl, only weeks away towards her seventh, she often makes people think that she is a bit older than she truly is with how calm she acts around others. Until recently, she has always been so shy. But that is only until the moment her little sister starts acting out and then she would react so strongly to her tantrum—just like what she is doing now. 

Hana, on the other hand, is more brave and confident, and a bit too smart for her own good. Always so curious and mischievous, and always loves to copy whatever her big sister is up to. And she is always so headstrong that nothing can stop her whenever she wants something. 

She just turned four, and you were sure that she could barely speak full sentences just a year ago. That period of time feels so long ago as you watch her arguing with her sister, with perfect sound of mind, clear words and reasonings, a sign that she is growing up a bit too soon. 

“Girls, please stop screaming at each other,” you try to calmly separate them. 

You have no idea what is happening. Normally, your girls would know perfectly well how to behave. They take great pride in being your ‘little helpers’ and it isn’t rare for you to bring them with you when you are out buying groceries. 

For some reason, they have been like this all day. Constantly arguing and making a fuss over everything. Even to the smallest things. 

“You can take turns using the scanner. Let Suzy finish scanning the pancake batter, then you can do yours, Hana. Here—” 

Reaching into the shopping cart, you grab the box of cookies that you don’t remember placing inside the cart and try to hand it over to Hana. Only for it to slip out of your hand when both Suzy and Hana try to reach for it. Both insisting on taking it and having their turn. 

“Motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as the box slides on the floor, and both girls immediately launch into another series of arguments, blaming each other for dropping the box and getting you angry. 

Tears are pooling in the corner of your eyes, and the quick switch of your mood isn’t unnoticeable for your girls as they both grow still. As if they are expecting you to snap. You bite your lips, trying your best not to. 

Just as you take a deep breath to compose yourself, a shadow comes to your side, picking up the fallen box and handing it to you.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice speaks, snapping you out of it, only to pull you into a dreamy trance the moment you get a look at his face and see his smile. The dimple on his cheek distracts you from your distraught that your mind becomes numb for a moment. 

“Hi there, do you need any help?” 

“Uhm, not really. It’s fine,” you answer, barely getting a word out when it feels like your brain has short-circuited. You shake your head, noticing his extended hand, offering you the box that you dropped earlier. “Oh, thank you,” you say to him, smiling apologetically as you take the box from his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why my girls are acting like this. They’re not usually this dramatic.” 

“That’s okay. Kids will be kids, right?” His eyes flicker towards your girls. Suzy, still in shock, is standing right by the cart while clutching the box of pancake batter to her chest, while Hana is clinging to your leg, almost hiding. “I don’t think you remember me, but—” The kind stranger offers the same hand to you to shake as he introduces himself, “I’m Namjoon. I just moved in a couple of doors away.” 

Once the information sets in, everything clicks. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I do remember.” 

All of a sudden, your memory takes you to last weekend, when you joined a cookout event held by one of your neighbours. The gathering was initially meant to celebrate their 25th anniversary, and you recall how they extended the celebration to welcome the new neighbour arriving in your block. You were so tired that night and were so focused on watching your kids that everything seemed to flash by, but you do recall gossiping with one of your neighbours, Ella—the only other single mom of the group—about how hot and stunning the newcomer looked. 

Blinking away the memory, you offer him another smile. “I’m sorry, I think the stress got to me. But I do remember you, although I don’t think we had enough time to chat.” 

“It’s fine. I won’t blame you, given the circumstances,” he says, and that cute dimple appears again. He turns to your kids next, bending a bit lower to match their height. “Hi, there. Are you girls trying to help your mom with the checkout?” 

Suzy presses her lips together, too shy to speak, but Hana is always happy to offer an answer. “Suzy won’t let me help.” You look down to see her pouting her lips, yet her eyes are still wide, looking curious and intrigued by this friendly stranger. Once again, something that you might share with your girl. 

“Well, I haven’t checked out my things and I might need a little help. So why don’t we let your sister help your mom, and you help me with mine?” he offers Hana with a smile as he points at his shopping basket, which is barely half full. Any adult would notice that he wouldn’t be needing much help with them, but Hana immediately perks up at his generous offer. 

“Is that really okay with you?” you ask, worrying about troubling him when you barely know him at all and letting your daughter out of your sight. 

As if he knows what you are thinking, he points over his shoulder at the next counter, which is only recently vacant. “I’ll take the next counter, so you can see and hear us all the time.” 

A sigh of relief escapes you. For some reason, looking at him alone is enough to reassure you and make you trust him. Maybe it’s the dimple. “Right. Okay,” you say to him, nodding. “Go ahead, honey. Help the nice mister with his groceries. But promise me that you’ll be good.” 

“‘Kay!” Hana easily agrees, getting overly excited that she has been given something else to do. “I promise, Mommy.” 

Find the beauty in the chaos. 

You remember reading that sentence somewhere. Perhaps from one of your favourite romance novels or one of those self-help books that your mother bought you during your darkest time. 

Each time you are having a hard time, be it from work, from dealing with household chores, or from caring for your daughters, you will always remember those words to keep your composure. Just like how you kept repeating those same words moments ago while you were stressing over your kids, when you tried to remain calm and sane. 

You didn’t expect the beauty to come and find you in your chaos instead. 

Having someone helping you just when you are starting to lose your calm feels like a blessing from the universe. 

Once peace has been regained, everything seems to return back to normal. Almost as if your daughters’ tantrum and fight never happened. 

While you work together with Suzy, who is enjoying her role as your little assistant, her smile widening each time the items go through, you can hear the sound of soft giggling from nearby as Hana does the same with her new friend. 

And Namjoon, the kind stranger and your saviour of the day, is making it fun by playing a little game with your little girl using the scanner and his groceries, drawing smiles and laughter from Hana, her little drama earlier forgotten. Soon enough, they are done, yet Hana remains by Namjoon’s side, almost clinging to his strong arm as she chatters away while he listens closely, hanging to every word she says. 

It appears that your little girl has completely become infatuated with the man. You cannot blame her though, since the man is quite easy in the eye. You have even noticed some of the women passing by looking over, and it surprises you how quickly it is making you feel territorial about him. 

“Thank you so much for your help. I truly appreciate it.” 

And you mean every word, seeing that not only has he helped solve your little problem with your demanding daughters, he also stays long enough to walk you to your car. If that isn’t enough to make you feel as if you have been transferred into another dimension, he has somehow gotten your daughter lifted in one arm, while he carries his grocery bag in the other. 

“It’s nothing, really. I enjoyed talking to your sweet girl,” he says, once again showing his dimple, and you can swear that you are swooning just by the look of it. Perhaps it’s his voice that does it to you; the deep timbre that makes you feel warm inside. It might also be the way he glances at Hana, not even showing any sign that he is getting annoyed for having his evening thwarted by having to deal with little girls and their very disorganised mother. 

“I mean it. You could’ve just walked past and didn’t offer anything, but you still did. You’re even walking us out to the car.” You sigh, recalling the bitter memory of the drama earlier. Glancing at him, you realise that Hana has become extremely silent. “Please tell me Hana isn’t falling asleep on your shoulder.” 

Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle as he takes a peek at Hana’s face, her cheeks smushed against his broad shoulder as if she has found the perfect place to rest her head on. “I think she’s about to.” 

Biting your lips, you hold back the sound that almost comes involuntarily out of you, because you can almost hear your ovaries exploding. 

Namjoon helps put Hana into her kiddie seat in the backseat of the car while you strap Suzy in right beside her. “You seem like you’ve done this before,” you let it slip, and you quickly move your hand to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice and here I am, sounding too presumptuous.” 

“It’s okay. Most of my friends have kids, and I’ve helped them once or twice whenever I’m free. I also have a niece from my sister, which gave me a chance to practice.” 

You take a peek at his grocery bag and remember what you saw in it—a box of beer, a couple of boxes of microwave dinners, and some snacks—and feel the urge to cook him dinner. Just to pay him a favour. 

Yes, that’s what it is. Not that you are eager to have him over for dinner or invite him into your home for anything other than. 

The offer is there, hanging at the tip of your tongue. But then you bite your lips, your insecurities and doubts rearing their ugly head, making you feel so small that you take a step back and simply say, “Thank you again. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.” 

Namjoon shrugs it off. “It was a pleasure to help.” 

Nodding, you look around, trying to find a distraction. You quickly notice that most of the cars parked near yours have gone away. “Are you—where did you park your car?”

The dimple on his cheek appears again when he shows you a bashful smile. “I don’t drive a car, actually,” he says, grinning and rubbing the back of his head. “I rode a bike here.” 

“A—bike?” You resist the urge to look around, just to be sure. Riding a bike at this time at night? You have no idea whether to feel amazed or baffled. Perhaps both. 

Seeing your reaction makes him laugh, and you somehow decide that you like the sound of it. “Yeah, I always ride a bike to the gym, and I was just heading home from there when I decided to make a quick stop to grab some sustenance for the evening.” 

Hiking the grocery bag in his arm higher, Namjoon takes a step back. That is when you notice the bag hanging from his shoulder. The one that wasn’t weighed down by Hana’s little head. 

Okay, you have officially decided to be amazed. Is this guy for real? 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks, snapping you back to the present before your mind starts picturing him carrying something else on those shoulders. 

No, none of it involves you. 

Maybe. 

You shake your head and muster a smile. “Oh, you betcha. You’ll definitely see us more often. Especially now that Hana has decided to like you.” 

You linger at the driver’s side of your car, hands on the door, yet your body refuses to slide in. You have no idea what seems to be drawing you towards him. Whatever it is, it makes you not want to leave. 

Namjoon tilts his head, as if noticing your hesitation to leave first. “Go on, I’ll watch you until you’re out there safely.” 

You open your mouth, almost ready to tell him to get back on his way before realising that the parking lot is quiet. Too quiet. And you have to admit that ever since you were left with only your two girls, you have been feeling a bit more vulnerable. Choosing to accept his offer of staying until you are safe to go—and feeling warm in the chest for having someone care enough to do so—you nod your head and slip into your car. 

Once you are strapped in, you look out the window to wave him goodbye. 

“Drive safe,” he says, and then the dimple reappears when he smiles, almost causing you to stutter. 

“Yes, um. You too.” 

Hana’s eyes flutter open just as Namjoon takes a peek into the backseat window to say goodbye to the girls. 

“Bye, Mista Joonie!” she cheerfully shouts, as if she wasn’t falling asleep in his arm just moments ago.

“Goodbye, Mister,” Suzy chimes in with a shy smile, waving her hand at Namjoon which he returns with a small wave.

“I’ll see you girls around!” 

Giving him one last wave and a smile, you begin to drive away. You can still see him through the rearview mirror, standing by and watching you go, until you are almost out of the lot and you see his figure running in the distance to get back to his bike. It’s brief, but there is something about this chance encounter that makes you feel bitter about leaving. 

Even if, deep down, you know that you will see him again soon. 

Perhaps I should’ve offered and invited him for dinner, after all. 

There is truly no beauty in this chaos. 

Even if there is, it would be impossible for you to see it. Not in moments like this.

It seems like the entire universe is out to get you this week, as nothing seems to be aligning the way it should have. The whole office has been in complete havoc all morning. Typical for Blackwell Press, the publishing company you are working with, to have the final week of the month filled with all the hustle. With everyone getting caught in deadlines, meetings and conference calls held back to back, and your own work piling up, it almost seems impossible for things to get even worse. 

But, of course, it eventually did. 

Offices don’t randomly get caught on fire during the daytime, when there are people—many of them—inside. Elevators don’t randomly get stuck merely seconds after the fire alarm starts blaring across the building.

Okay, this elevator had gotten stuck before, during that one time some staff were working late at night and the machine suddenly failed to work. Everyone has been joking about it happening again during a busy day, and it feels like karma that it has to happen again now. 

But must it happen when you are inside it?

The steady hum of the elevator suddenly turned into a deafening silence just moments ago, and the only thing you can do now is to stand frozen in the flickering light, wondering what is going on. Trapped between floors, the confined space appears in your mind as if closing in on you, the walls shrinking with every breath. The only reprieve you are given is the fact that you are not in it on your own. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, louder than the faint crackle of the intercom as Daniel, the Marketing guy, tries to contact the security staff downstairs through the intercom. His voice remains calm despite the constant crackling sound each time they try to respond, while the other Marketing staff present with you, Jae, has long discarded his suit in his effort to calm himself. 

You take shallow breaths to keep yourself from panicking, all while trying to listen to the soft hum of their voices as they talk about what to do, just to keep your mind from wandering towards dark places. Right beside you, Lily, the only member of the Editor team aside yourself, is slowly losing her calm. 

At the sudden halt of the elevator, she had reached out to grab the sleeve of your blouse as if searching for support. As seconds tick by, her grip on your sleeve tightens as she tries to control her breath, her eyes locked on the digital screen that is no longer displaying a floor number. And you let her cling to you, even when you feel like you need some added strength for yourself. 

It was by mere coincidence that the four of you are stuck here together. 

You were the last ones to leave the conference room after the latest meeting, having been the ones responsible for providing the items for the meeting. As fate has it, merely seconds after the doors were closed and the elevator had only started moving, the fire alarm started blaring through the building, and everything came to a halt. 

“They’re saying that help is on its way,” says Daniel, relaying the message that he just received from the intercom, his voice becomes the calm in this dire situation. 

You find yourself feeling grateful that at least one of you manages to hear the voice coming through the intercom, while you haven’t been able to focus on anything at all. Nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rapid sound of your heartbeat, and at the way the air seems to be growing stale with four people sharing the same oxygen in this tight space. 

“What did they say? Is it connected to the fire alarm?” you try to ask, hoping that getting some positive news might help clear your thoughts. Even if just a little. 

“No, they didn’t say anything,” Daniel says with a strained voice, possibly due to reality finally sinking in once the intercom stops making any sound to respond. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jae leans back against the metal railing and sighs. “Let’s just hope that we’re not anywhere close to the fire, and it’s just some issues with the electricity,” he adds while trying his best to remain calm. But it doesn’t help make you feel any calmer when his eyes begin wandering at every visible gap and crevice as he speaks, as if making sure that he isn’t seeing any smoke filtering into the elevator. 

It makes you feel uneasy to see this. Every bit of calmness that you still have begins chipping away. 

Soon, silence falls as everyone tries their best to remain still and composed while waiting for help to come. The minutes drag on like hours, allowing your thoughts to wander into a darker place and letting your doubt and fear sink in. 

Is the building really burning? 

Why are we stuck here? How long are we supposed to wait?

What happens if help doesn’t come? 

What about my girls? What will happen to them if I—

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes at the thought of not returning home to your girls. The thought of leaving them behind hurts you beyond words that you are beginning to lose hope. 

Gripping the metal railing behind you tightly, you close your eyes and begin to pray. And you continue to pray as time slips away in the dim, stalled box. Please, you beg whoever is listening. Please, someone—

A loud clatter breaks the silence, causing everyone to jerk their heads up, all eyes looking around to find its source. Right as Jae is about to speak, the clattering stops and comes a muffled voice from somewhere above.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" The voice is clear now, firm but calming, and somewhat familiar. But your mind is a jumbled mess of worry and bewilderment that you cannot figure out the reason why you would think that way. 

"Yes!" Jae calls back after looking around, seeing how everyone is stunned to silence, “Yes, we can hear you!”

"Stay calm," the voice calmly instructs from above. “We’re from the firefighters. We're going to get you out."

You feel your knees weakening with relief. Even the others collectively exhale deep sighs of relief and Lily begins to loosen her hold on the sleeve of your blouse. “Okay,” she whispers, steadying herself. “We’re going to be okay.” 

Daniel nods when he sees that everyone is calmer. “Okay, we’re ready!” he shouts to the person on the other side as he braces against the cool metal wall. 

Soon, you hear a low, scraping sound against the elevator door, followed by the clank of tools echoing through the small chamber. The elevator shirts slightly upon impact, causing everyone to gasp and instinctively start stepping away from the door. Before panic starts to set back in, the firefighter’s voice cuts through again, calming everyone down.  

"We're going to manually open the doors. You might feel the elevator shift a little—don't worry. You're safe."

Safe. 

The word echoes through your mind, acting like a spell as it brings some reassurance. Something for you to cling to. The clanking sounds of the tool returns just as you start hearing the firefighter coordinating with his team outside. 

More creaks and groans follow next, lasting for a short while, and then—light appears. The doors start inching open, revealing the gap between the elevator floor and the hallway above. Two strong hands appear from the gap, pulling the doors wider until there is enough space for you to see your rescuers in their fire gear, all focused and ready to pull everyone out.

One firefighter peeks through the opened doors with a smile. “Alright, who’s up first?” 

Both men who are with you step aside, allowing either you or Lily to get out first. So you push Lily forward, letting her get helped first before you take your turn. 

"Alright, just one step up," the firefighter says, reaching down with an outstretched hand. "Take my hand, we’ve got you."

You hesitate only for a moment before grasping his hand, his hold feels solid and reassuring. You can feel the strength in his grip as he hoists you up and out of the elevator, the cool rush of fresh air hitting you like a wave of relief. Your legs tremble as they touch solid ground that you nearly fall, yet the kind firefighter holds you up by your arms, keeping you steady as he sets you aside so that the other members of his team can start helping the men out.

"You're okay now," the firefighter says, his voice softer now. "Just breathe. You’re safe."

Nodding, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your fear melting away. Still unable to speak, you glance back at the elevator, seeing it still wedged between floors, and feel a shiver run through you as you remember that you had just been inside it moments ago. But as you look around, watching the firefighters handling the situation, helping the other three who had just gotten pulled out to get help, the terror that was gripping at you begins to loosen its hold. 

With a relieved sigh, you straighten up and turn back to your saviour, the firefighter who had just pulled you out and is still holding you up. The moment you see his face, you finally understand why his voice felt so familiar, and why you could easily find calmness when you first heard him speak. 

“Namjoon,” you whisper his name, drawing a smile to his face, showing you the small dimple which had been in your mind ever since the night you last met. 

“I told you we’d meet again soon.”  

“Is this really necessary?” 

You are sitting at the corner of the building’s main lobby, together with the other three who had gotten stuck with you in the elevator. Other staff have also been evacuated here while the firefighters are working to find the source of the problem. 

Namely, the reason why the fire alarm went off when there was no sign of the building burning anywhere. 

Right by your side, Jae is being checked by the medical team when it is quite obvious that all the man wants to do is to get back to his office. 

“You were under duress just moments ago, Sir. We need to check your vitals to make sure that there are no other issues with your body that the incident may have caused before letting you go.” 

“Let the boy do his job so we can all go back to the office,” Daniel chimes in just as he is done being checked out and the medic moves to Lily next. The poor girl has yet to regain some colour on her pale face, which makes you worried. “Wait, we’re allowed to go back to our office, right?” 

The medical staff nods and talks about waiting until everyone gets clearance from the investigation team before going back up. After getting your turn for the quick check-up, you wander off a bit between the staff lingering around, feeling too restless to sit still. 

Before you realise what you are doing, you begin searching for a familiar figure between the throng of people, and you don’t stop until you see a group of firefighters returning to the lobby after checking the floors above. One of them, who appears to be the team leader, walks towards the head of security and the Head Editor waiting close by. 

“It came from smoke forming in the break room. Someone must’ve burned something in the microwave or forgot to pull it out and the smoke triggered the alarm,” you hear the team leader speak, explaining the cause of the fire alarm. “The faulty alarm system made the electrical circuit go haywire, which made it seem like it was a bigger fire than it was, and it may have caused the elevator cables to short-circuit.” The team leader hands the draft of their investigation report to the head of security. “The elevator needs to get checked too, since the cables are old. You need to get it done soon.” 

The Head Editor—your boss—takes a peek at the report and shakes his head. “I’m gonna need to contact building management—” 

His voice begins to fade away when a movement catches your eyes, and you see the person that you have been searching for separating himself from the group to approach you.

Namjoon, who turns out to be your saviour, walks up to you with a smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, the familiar deep timber of his voice brings some warmth to your chest, telling you that this isn’t a figment of your imagination.

“Yeah,” you answer with a small voice, still too dumbfounded to see him standing before you like this. “Uhm, yes, I’m fine. Thank you so much for saving my life.” The moment you say this, a soft giggle slips right out of you. “This makes it the second time this week you’ve come to my rescue.” 

Namjoon’s smile widens. “I’m just glad to help.” 

He takes a look around. “So, a publishing agency, hmm? What is it exactly that you do here, if I may ask?” His curious gaze lands on you and it feels like he is trying to look into your soul. “I hope it’s okay if I’m curious, since you now know what I do for a living.” 

You let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind at all,” you admit to him before answering, “I’m an editor. I edit manuscripts for upcoming books before they are sent out to print and get officially published. You can say that I’m being paid to read and comment, and gain the extra privilege of reading the books first before everyone else does.” 

“That sounds interesting,” he says, raising his brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll be getting back to work after this?” 

“I’m not entirely sure. But I don’t think I will.” You glance around at your co-workers. Neither seems to have any desire of going back to work after this whole incident. Sharing the same feeling with the others around you, you feel a strong desire of seeing your girls and spending time with them instead. “I might get back to my office only to pack up my stuff and leave early, pick up Hana from daycare and have a little cool down at the park before we go and pick up her sister. I know she’ll love it.” 

At the mention of your girls, Namjoon’s smile softens. “That sounds fun.” 

For a moment, it looks as if he wants to say something, only to stop himself when someone from his team calls his name. Namjoon looks over his shoulder and nods. “Unfortunately, one of us has to go back to work,” he says with an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you around. Hopefully, not in another case of emergency?” 

You cannot help but smile. “I promise to try and keep things less dramatic next time.” 

With a grin on his face, Namjoon turns away and joins the other men from his team as they prepare to leave. You watch him for a moment longer, blending in with the rest of them until someone comes to your side. 

“So—” Your friend, Emma, says as she slips her arm around yours. “Who’s the hunk?” 

You roll your eyes and smile. “He’s a new neighbour. He helped me the last time we met,” you answer, still stunned with everything that has been going on. You never expected that you would be seeing Namjoon again, and for him to once again save the day for you, “Which makes this the second time he’s helped me.”

“Oooh, sounds like a story premise in the making. It’ll make a good romance prompt, don’t you think?” she teases, “A firefighter who keeps crossing paths with a single mother, saving her during a series of misfortunes and ending up falling in love after the single mom starts paying his goodwill with homecooked meals and other”—she starts wiggling her eyebrows—”raunchy favours.” 

You laugh at her comment, even if it doesn’t stop you feeling your cheeks flushing warmly. “Well, I’m not the writer. You can probably pitch that idea to the indie author you’ve been working with.” 

“Who? Sana? Hmmm, you’re right. This is kind of her thing. Let me take notes on that,” Emma says as she pulls out her phone and starts tapping on the screen, no doubt writing the idea down on her notes app. “I might advice her to make it extra spicy too.” 

As you continue to chat with your friend about books and promising writers, you let her guide you back towards the Editor team who are gathering at one corner of the room with your boss, talking about the incidents and what they are going to do next. 

“Are you heading back up?” Emma asks you before you join the others, and you recall your plan about spending the rest of the afternoon with your youngest. 

“I’m thinking of grabbing my stuff and head back home if Adam lets us go for the day,” you say to her, referring to your boss, the Head Editor who isn’t showing any sign of wanting to back to work. Much like everyone else. “I’ll probably end up losing sleep again if I want to finish editing tonight.” 

You let out a sigh, thinking about the lack of sleep you have been having this week. With new books coming up to prints this month, and new writers struggling to keep up with the schedule that you have set up for them, you have been staying up a lot of nights to catch up with editing. 

“But it’s still a lot better to work from home than being stuck here and freaking out about the elevator and false fire alarms all day,” you add, almost like reassuring yourself that it would be okay to sacrifice more sleep for the sake of your sanity.  

“Good point. I bet we can sweet talk Adam to let us go early today. I don’t see the point in working when everyone is stressed out anyway,” Emma jokes as she points her chin at Adam, whose eyebrows are furrowed deeply as he continues chatting with his assistants. “At least, thanks to this, I think we deserve to let off some steam. What do you say we go out this Saturday? Grab some drinks, dance a bit, maybe you can practice your flirting skills so you can make use of them the next time you meet up with that cutie again.”  

You make a face as you imagine yourself trying to make a move on Namjoon, which only makes her laugh. “I’m serious. He seems nice, aside from being hot, and it’ll be a missed opportunity not to tap that.” 

You roll your eyes, but a part of you is starting to consider it. As much as you love being a mother and to dedicate your entire life to your career, you cannot deny that you do want to start dating again. 

And the offer to have a night out where you can let off some steam and let loose does sound enticing. Emma and some of your other friends have been asking you to join them to hangout on drink nights lately. But with a lot of deadlines and tight schedules weighing down on you, and no one to watch your girls while you are out, you have been declining their invitation. But after dealing with such a hard week, you feel like you deserve a night to yourself. 

“I do need a stiff drink.” Sighing, you remember that your daughters are going to be spending the weekends with your parents. It wouldn’t hurt to use that free time to have some fun for a change instead of staying in. “All right. Count me in.” 

Emma cheers. “Great! I’ll call the other girls to see if they’ll come too it so we can all catch up. Chloe called the other day and shared about wanting to see us and give us the souvenirs she got from her trip to Singapore last week, so she’ll probably be excited too,” she says, mentioning another fellow Editor who used to work in the same company as the two of you before moving up to a bigger publishing agency. 

Just then, you see a small group of firefighters walking across the lobby, heading towards the front door to leave. Among them is Namjoon, who seems to feel your gaze on him. As you continue watching him walk alongside his team, he suddenly turns. His eyes quickly find you among the crowd lingering in the lobby, his smile growing wider as he raises his hand to wave goodbye. 

Emma makes a humming sound when she sees this exchange happening and whispers, “Promise me you’ll tell me more about that hot firefighter of yours.” 

Keeping your eyes on Namjoon, you merely smile and wave your hand back at him. “Mhmm. We’ll see.” 

It’s a typical Saturday night at Cipher, the rustic-style bar that Namjoon has frequented ever since he moved into the city. 

The bar had a different name just a couple of years ago, when Namjoon first came by during one of his previous visits to this city, and with different types of patrons as well. The only thing that remains the same since is the man who is working behind the bar, mixing drinks while chatting with whoever decides to hang around the bartender. 

“How is living in the city going for you so far?” Jin, the bartender and owner of the bar, asks Namjoon while he is busy wiping clean glasses between drink orders. 

Twisting the glass in his hand, Namjoon shrugs before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not too bad. I can’t say that I’ve gotten to fit right in with the neighbours. But things are doing good at work, so that’s good enough for now.” 

“Seeing anyone already?” Jin teases, making Namjoon laugh. 

“Are you seriously asking me that?” He shakes his head. “It might be too soon for me to get back out there into the dating scene.” 

“You? Not sure about getting out to meet up with women?” Jin laughs. “Look, I’m not talking about getting into a relationship or finding someone else to propose. I’m talking about having fun. Go pick someone you find attractive tonight and take her home with you. You deserve a good time too, you know.” 

Namjoon’s throat feels tight just by hearing that word—propose—only because it brings back a painful memory; of the days filled with fights and shouting matches and distrust, and the desperation he felt to hold on to the hope that things would have gotten better if he chose to settle down. 

Shaking the sudden wave of painful memory doesn’t really help when he thinks about opening himself to finding instant pleasure to replace what was lost to him.  

Namjoon may not be a stranger to having a one-night stand. But it has been a while since the last time he had one. Those days are way behind him. Long before he decided to settle down, only to have everything fall apart and he was forced to start over in a new place just to survive. 

He knows all too well that sharing his bed with someone for one night only does little to fill the void. He knows from what he experienced during his wild days in the past. Physically, he might not have been alone for those short hours, but once it ended, it only made him feel even more lonely than before. At some point, the loneliness started to feel painful. It was what had first led him to start longing for something more. 

He once thought that he had found more. Only that it had been with the wrong person, at the wrong time, and he found himself back to square one when everything crumbled. 

He took it all thinking that it might have been karma. Bad fate came to bite him on the ass after all the years he had his fun chasing women, breaking hearts here and there, until he got his own heart broken to pieces just months ago. 

It was the reality check he needed. One that he has yet to completely recover from. The pain and the memories of the past would sometimes come creeping in, staying with him as if they had been woven into the cracks that were left inside him to remain even after he walked away. It kept chasing him during the nights he spent alone—and he had tried to go back to the game once or twice, only to fail to gain anything out of it—which was why he decided to move away. 

Start anew. Meet new people. And then one day, maybe—

He knows that time will eventually help him heal, just like how time has healed many of the scars he had gained through the years of working with danger, chasing fires and pulling people out of crumbling buildings and crashed cars and stuck elevators—a flutter of a smile comes to his face as he recalls the most recent incident—while risking his own body, his life, doing so. 

“I can’t believe I’m getting an advice about hooking up from someone like you,” Namjoon chuckles, as he brushes those thoughts away, choosing to tease Jin instead. “Someone who claims to be looking into settling down.” 

Jin scoffs. “I’m saying this for your own good.” Propping his elbows on top of the bar counter, Jin leans forward. “You moved here to start over. Not to stop living altogether.” 

Namjoon gives him a bitter smile. “Right now, I’m only going to spend the night nursing my drink, enjoying my downtime while I’m off duty.” 

Shaking his head, Jin leans back and grabs the empty glasses left behind from the patrons who had just stepped away from the seats next to Namjoon. “Have you thought about my offer?” Jin asks, “About working here on the nights you’re not on night shift? At least, that way, you might open up your eyes and see all the opportunities you can get by standing right here at the bar, talking to people.” 

“And live a double life like you do?” Namjoon teases him, which earns him a wink from Jin, before the bartender saunters away as another customer waves him down to order a drink. 

Once again left with his own thoughts, Namjoon allows himself to sink back into old memories; all the good and the bad; the long-lost hope that he once had and is now trying to rebuild. 

“Wanna have another?” Jin asks when he returns, noticing that Namjoon has almost emptied his glass yet again. “Got enough time to think about what I was saying?” 

“Maybe,” Namjoon says as he tosses his drink down. He slides the empty glass back to Jin. “Get me a double of that.” 

As Jin steps back to grab his drinks, Namjoon notices the group of patrons crowding nearby spreading away, giving him a clear sight of the bar’s entrance door just as a group of women enters, laughing and chatting with each other without realising the attention they are gaining. All of a sudden, Namjoon feels as if the air around him shifts, right the moment his eyes capture the sight of a familiar smile among the ladies who seem to have come for a good time. 

“Can I ask you something?” Namjoon asks Jin when the bartender returns with his drink. 

“Sure. Anything.” 

“Do you believe in fate?” 

Jin laughs. “Me? I can’t really say I don’t believe it, but it’s also not something I’d talk about while tending the bar. Why?” 

Namjoon turns back to look at the group of newcomers, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours as you look up, as if you can feel his presence as he sits across the room, watching you with a new feeling of hope brewing inside his chest. Life can be cruel sometimes, he silently admits. Yet it seems that life is slowly turning to his favour when you unexpectedly appear right before his eyes, right when he is about to call it a night and return to his lonely home. 

“Well, I think I am starting to believe it.” 

“I feel like we should make a toast,” Emma starts once you manage to find an open table. She holds up her glass of Cosmo before anyone can start enjoying their drinks. 

“What are we toasting for?” Ina asks, just as Emma shouts, 

“To friendship.” 

Chloe snorts into her drink and shakes her head. “What are we, in high school?” 

“Hey, I mean, it works,” Emma whines, “Seeing that we still hang out together even after you and Ina moved to different companies.” 

Thinking to yourself, you think about the long week that you just had and offer, “How about a toast to surviving life?” 

“I’ll toast to that,” Ina quickly agrees with a nod, and you can totally understand why. Being the oldest one of the group, she has a ton of things on her plate among her busy days at work; from dealing with her teenage boys back home who are beginning to act up; a husband who is busy preparing for his promotion; and a sick cat back home. 

“I love my boys, but sometimes I wish they were still the same adorable toddlers who would listen to me instead of fighting me all the time,” she would often say, though you could always see the love in her eyes even as she complains about them. “Are you sure you don’t want to trade them with your girls? Just a night will be enough for me. I promise.” 

Chloe raises her glass to join the toast, saying, “I’ll toast to that too. These past few weeks have been pretty crazy for me. I want to stay in bed with my hubby for the next few weeks and not answer any texts or phone calls.” 

Her comment makes you want to take a shot of your drink. You shouldn’t feel envious about her having someone waiting for her back home. You shouldn’t wish that you had someone to share your bed with tonight. You really don’t need to think about having to return home tonight alone, to a quiet home, without your girls waiting back home, without anyone keeping you company.  

The only thing you fear the most about being left alone with your thoughts is to have the ghosts of your past coming back. Memories always come stronger at nights. Taking you back to the days when you were not alone, yet you are made struggling even harder than you are now when you tried to hold on to the crumbling marriage. 

Nobody warned you that falling out of love can be painful. How lonely it made you feel.  It scorned you to the point that you nearly sworn yourself off of love, just to keep your heart save. Whatever was left of it. 

“Then why are you here hanging with us when you have a husband to cuddle with?” Emma teases, her voice snapping you out of it. Then Chloe leans in to hug you from the side. 

“Because I also miss you guys,” she says, drawing everyone’s laughter. 

You share a toast with the girls, clinking the glasses as you cheer, followed by a series of shots, and then a new round of drinks is shared at the table. You continue talking, laughing, catching up about life and sharing gossip and fussing over some problematic authors that both Emma and Chloe had to deal with for the past month. By the time the next round of shots arrives at the table, you notice Emma’s eyes looking over your shoulder and grinning at what she sees.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” she teases, leaning in to make it less obvious that she has been observing the one person that you have been fighting not to look at. 

You take a careful sip of your Moscow Mule as you think of an excuse. “We already waved at each other when we first came in.” 

Truth be told, you already know that a simple wave was the bare minimum that you could have given him. Seeing Namjoon sitting there at the bar when you first came into this place caught you by surprise that you were left speechless. It was Namjoon who had first smiled at you, and the only thing you could do was wave your hand at him when your legs refused to take you to him.  

“You know that’s not enough.” Emma rolls her eyes. “The guy practically saved your life.” 

Your reaction—or lack thereof—over seeing Namjoon hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. But it was Emma who had explained to the others about who Namjoon was, earning you more questions and teasing from the girls which only made it even harder for you to ignore his presence. 

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you offer something special tonight for a thank-you gift,” Chloe teases while wiggling her brows. 

You laugh, snorting into your drink. “Sure he will,” you say, as you find it hard to imagine that someone like Namjoon would even be interested in being with someone like you. Not only because you know that he is younger than you, but you also know that there are many women out there—mostly those around his age—that he would find more attractive, compared to a single mom like yourself. 

As always, your insecurities are quick to set in. Before you can drown it with a strong drink, Emma quickly protests, “You’re a MILF, ______. Stop selling yourself short.”

Nodding, Ina gently agrees with her by saying, “You definitely shouldn’t, seeing that he keeps glancing at you.” 

“She means to say that he’s been eye-fucking you since we got here,” Chloe adds, snickering as she glances over her shoulder to catch Namjoon looking over. 

“He so is!” Ina says, leaning across the table. “He’s hot. Go for it.”

Hearing this, you finally take a long sip of your drink, trying to gain some liquid courage. You have only gotten a few glasses of drink, the night has yet grown late, but you have already gotten quite a good buzz going on, and you are using it to grow some courage to look over at him. Sure enough, Namjoon is still there, with a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand, and a pair of eyes that are looking straight at you. A smile grows on his face as your gazes meet each other, though it is quickly hidden as he lifts his glass to his lips. 

“See? He’s looking over again.” Emma starts giggling and gently nudges at your shoulder. “Go talk to him and practice that flirting skills of yours.”

“What flirting skills?” you ask while laughing. Deep down, your insecurities are still clawing at you, but having everyone pushing you to do something that you normally wouldn’t do—like flirting with a hot younger guy like Namjoon—is starting to make you want to change your mind. “Okay, but what do I say?” 

“You can start by saying hi,” Ina says. She pushes her appletini in front of you. “Here,” she says. “Finish this, then go talk to him before someone else moves in on that fine piece of ass.”

Chloe nods her head as you pick up the glass of appletini and contemplate what you need to do next. “You can go to the bar and act like you’re there to order drinks from the bartender since we’ll be needing some more drinks.” 

 “Go on,” Emma joins in, obviously enjoying this. 

You exhale a deep breath and bring the glass to your lips. The sweet liquor glides down your throat and you suddenly start wishing that you had gotten something stronger. Lowering the drink, you turn to look for him again. Namjoon isn’t looking at you this time, yet he is still there, talking to the pretty-looking bartender who was the main reason why Emma had chosen to come to this bar—as she seems to be having a sweet crush on the bartender. 

“All right, here I go,” you say, as you finish the drink and muster the will to rise from your seat. Your legs are a bit wobbly when you try to walk across the room, but the muted voices of your friends who are cheering for you from behind give you the boost you need to continue going. 

The floor between your table and the bar has been filled with people dancing while you are drinking, and they come in your way, making you lose sight of Namjoon for a moment. Not being able to see him only makes you feel calmer, until the crowd opens up and you see him once again, still sitting at the bar. Alone. 

Eyes too focused on him, you accidentally bump into someone who walks right into your path. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologise while the person simply slides out of your way and returns to his dancing. 

You hear a soft chuckle, a familiar sound that causes your breath to catch. You whip around and your eyes are locked with his. Immediately, something fuzzy builds in your chest, and you almost fall out of step when you notice it. 

Are those butterflies you are feeling inside? You haven’t felt anything remotely like butterflies in—fuck—years. 

As his smile grows wider at the sight of you walking towards him, you try to convince yourself that his presence isn’t affecting you. At all. 

Your lady bits do not quiver for random men. You are certainly not having dirty thoughts about him. You keep telling yourself this as you get closer to him. And yet—

Your heart immediately speeds up at the sound of his voice—calling your name. 

“_______, fancy seeing you here,” he says, looking genuinely pleased that those butterfly wings are beginning to flutter again, causing some funny feelings to rise in your stomach. 

“I could say the same thing. It was a nice surprise to see you,” you respond to him and—fuck, did you really just try flirting with him? “Enjoying your night?” 

“You can say that,” he says with a dimple smile of his, “But I’m finding more reasons to feel good tonight now that you’re here.” 

Damn, he’s good, you wonder as you stifle a smile, and fail. Maybe he should be the one helping you sharpen your flirting skills instead of Emma or the other girls who always start making jokes about it and making you laugh each time you try it on them. 

“A friend of yours?” You turn when the bartender comes, throwing you a smile as he speaks to Namjoon. 

“Jin, this is _______,” Namjoon says, introducing the two of you. “This is Jin, an old friend who first convinced me to move here. He’s the main reason why I hang out at a place like this.” 

You offer your hand to the bartender who takes it with a firm grip. “Hi, it’s nice to see you. I see that you and your friends are having quite a blast.” 

Returning Jin’s smile, you playfully ask him, “Would it be too much if I thank you for encouraging Namjoon to move here?” 

“Nope, not at all,” Jin laughs. “So, what can I get you?” 

You quickly make your order, and while you wait for the bartender to finish preparing the drinks, you take the seat right by Namjoon’s side so you can have a little chat. Either the alcohol is starting to warm you up inside, or Namjoon’s friendly smile is making you more comfortable, every bit of tension you feel is lifted when you begin laughing at his simple jokes. 

Once the drinks are ready, you reluctantly rise to return to your friends to deliver their shots. This time, you have a slight new pep in your footsteps, confidence brewing inside you after realising that you had conquered one of your insecurities tonight by chatting with Namjoon. Your friends welcome you with light cheers, and you celebrate by sharing a shot of whiskey and finishing the rest of your drink. 

It doesn’t take long before your friends decide to end the night. 

Ina is the one to step away first, when her husband calls her about one of their sons who had just gotten caught sneaking through the window after lying about doing his homework in his room. “We don’t know if he snuck out to see a girl or got himself in other kinds of trouble while he was out, but Dan needs me as a backup to get some answers from the little brat,” she says, kissing your cheek when she bids goodbye for the night. 

Chloe is the one who needs to go home next, when her husband keeps calling her about feeling lonely at home. “I can’t tell if it’s sad or cute, but I think I’ve had enough to drink for the night. I already got an Uber picking me up outside.” 

“Are you coming?” Emma asks you, her eyes looking over towards the bar before asking, “Or are you going to stay?” 

You follow her gaze, looking at Namjoon chuckling along with whatever the bartender is saying to him. A part of you is telling you to call it a night, but there is a bigger part of you that feels intrigued, and curious to see what would happen tonight if you choose differently. To be selfish for once. 

“I think I’m going to stay.” 

Your answer brings a smile to Emma’s face. She seems proud and—relieved. You have no idea why she would feel this way over your decision to stay for a man, but she simply nods and says, “All right, then I’ll ride with you, Chloe. I’ll see you on Monday, girl,” she says to you as she leans in for a hug and whispers, “Go get him.” 

You watch your friends go before finishing the rest of your drink and leaving your seat. Before you can change your mind, your legs take you towards the bar, returning to Namjoon’s side as if you are drawn to him like a moth to flame. 

“Are you calling it a night too?” Namjoon asks you when he notices you coming, his gaze flickering to follow your friends as they weave through the crowd to find the exit door, as if expecting to see you following them.  

“I don’t really want to go home yet.” You bite your lips. “I think I’m going to have another drink before leaving. Are you planning on leaving early?” 

The smile that grows on Namjoon’s face makes your heart flutter. He does look good when he smiles. “And waste the chance to drink with you? No way.” You take the empty seat that he offers right next to him, which he gently pulls closer once you are settled in. “Let me order for you. What are you having?”

“Surprise me.” 

Smiling, Namjoon orders you a Moscow Mule, causing you to raise your brows. “You ordered the same drink twice while you were here.” 

“You have quite a good memory,“ you tease him, “Are you sure you don’t work here?” 

Namjoon laughs. His eyes glimmer under the dim lighting when he says, “You’re not the kind of woman that I’d be so easy to forget.”

You can barely hold back from laughing, because you cannot find it in you to agree. 

“You don’t believe me when I say that you’re not easy to forget?” he asks, moving closer to you until you can breathe in the musky cologne he is wearing. 

“Me? I’m nothing special. I’m just”—you breathe out a sigh—”just me.”

He takes your hand, sliding his fingers to your wrist, his thumb finding your pulse where he rubs in circles. “I don’t know you very well—yet—but from what I’ve seen, ‘just you’ seems pretty damn special.”

You laugh again and take a drink, murmuring softly to him, “Thanks.”

He looks down for a moment, as if considering what to say. But he seems more determined when he lifts his gaze and looks back at you. There is something in his eyes which draws out the flutters in your chest. A new look which you have yet to see coming from him during the short time you’ve known him. 

The look which shows a different kind of want.

And you can only guess what he is thinking right now. Biting your lips, you wait until he says the words, because there is nothing that you want more right now but to go with him. You enjoy talking to him, to be in his presence, and you have a feeling that you might enjoy it more if he offers something more. 

It’s just one night, so you can possibly handle it. Right? 

Fuck. All of a sudden, you don’t feel too sure about it. 

But the gentle touch of his fingers on your skin, together with the deep timber of his voice when he hums, is slowly enticing you to open up, to give in to chance. 

Namjoon’s eyes meet yours and the same dimple smile of his returns. You swallow hard, ignoring the sound of your pounding heart as he asks,

“Do you want to get out of here?” 

Biting your lips, you can feel your chest tightening. Your heart beating fast. Hard. Your body moves to lean closer even without you meaning it to. 

“Yes,” you whisper, and his face lights up, as if he was almost sure that you were going to refuse. 

“Your place, or mine?”

A simple question, made with a light tone of voice that sounds almost joking, except that Namjoon’s heart is beating rapidly inside his chest as he says it. He already risked everything when he first asked to take you away from here. Now, it feels as if he is risking a bit more as he waits for your answer. 

You bite your lips, and your hesitance only makes him feel worse. “Is there any difference?” 

Namjoon wants to say, no, it doesn’t. The only thing that matters is for him to be spending this night with you. You push your hair back, and when your eyes meet his, he can almost feel your heart beating right up against his. 

“Are your kids home tonight?” Namjoon tries when you’re not too sure. Somehow, he understands that you might be wary about coming home to his place when you barely know him. 

“No, they’re at my parents.” 

A smile is lifted on his face. “Then are you going to take me home?” 

You return his smile and lean closer. It amazes him how quickly you switch—from shy and hesitant at one point, to feeling more confident and daring the next. And it turns him on even more when you say, “Only if you promise that you’re going to be a good boy.” 

Namjoon calls an Uber to take you both home while you make a quick stop at the restroom before leaving the place. In the short time that he has to wait for you, Namjoon struggles to keep his composure. It’s almost laughable the way it makes him feel like a newbie. For him to feel so nervous as if he is inexperienced in this. 

In a way, this is something new for him. Enough to make him feel exhilarated about what is to come. 

He turns just in time to see you walking up to him. As if your moment away had given you the chance to recoup and find some resolve, you look as if you are shining, your smile looking bright and your eyes filled with lust and want and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms here and now just to kiss you senseless. 

“Take me home, mama,” he jokingly says when he opens the car door for you, making you laugh. 

Instead of answering him, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him in with you until you are seated in the backseat of the car together, bringing the heat that you share into the confines of the car as it takes you back home. 

In the tight space within the car, the heat that has been building up between you becomes more palpable. You can tell that he is feeling it too. And he seems to be giving into it, when he keeps running the tips of his fingers from your hand to your wrist, when his knees keep pressing against yours, and when his eyes keep trailing from your face, down to your cleavage, and then back up to your neck, before lingering on your lips. 

He wets his lips, as if he is picturing himself tasting you with a kiss. “Can I be honest with you?” he whispers, leaning closer. 

“Of course.” 

“I…couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits with a soft chuckle. It seems that his confession surprises him just as much as it does to you. 

“Since the fire alert?” 

“No,” he says with a grin, “ever since the night we first met.” 

Was it at the supermarket? You wonder to yourself, trying to figure out what he could have possibly seen in you that night through the chaos with your girls. 

No, it was before, you begin to realise, as you recall the night of the cookout event at your neighbours’ backyard, when Namjoon lingered close by after sharing a quick chat with you, and when you caught him watching you from the side while you were helping your daughters with their dinner plates. 

“I told myself after watching you go that night that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, since you seemed to have a lot going on already and I probably didn’t deserve any second of your time. But then I saw you at the supermarket and I couldn’t resist saying hello.” His eyes find yours. You have no idea what kind of expression you are giving him while you are loss for words, but Namjoon’s smile softens. “And just when I thought it couldn’t have been more than a coincidence, we got the call to your office and there you were. It feels like we just keep crossing paths with each other. As if I am made to make a move.” 

Noticing that you have grown silent, Namjoon tilts his head and asks, “What’s wrong?” 

With a bitter laugh, you can only shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just—” You bite your lips, hating the way your insecurities have always been able to come to the surface the moment you try to push against your boundaries, when you try to take risks like what you are doing tonight. But you simply cannot help it. The feeling is clawing at your chest that you can barely breathe. “You know you could’ve gotten home with someone else. Someone who isn’t—” 

You try to look away, yet Namjoon isn’t having it. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face gently so you are forced to look at him again. “Is not—what?” 

Your throat feels tight and your mouth feels bitter when you answer, “Older. A single mom. A—” 

Namjoon presses his thumb on your lips to stop you from speaking further. “Remember what I told you earlier, and I really meant it,” he says, his gaze softening and heating up at the same time. “You are special. If you had said no to me tonight, I would’ve gone home alone, and spent the rest of the night finishing the last cans of beer I still have in my fridge or eating any frozen leftovers I could find before passing out on the couch.” 

You blink. His honesty surprises you, yet you would be lying if you told yourself that it doesn’t make you feel flattered to hear him choosing you. 

As if there is a switch inside you that has been flipped, everything fades to the back of your mind. All the voices that keep putting you down are silenced. The only thing left in your mind is the image of this gorgeous man spending his night alone in his quiet home, eating one of those boxed meals you saw peeking through his grocery bag and downing beers until he falls asleep, and you decide that you are not having it. 

Seems like you are not the only one who needs to take some risks tonight just to experience some changes in life. 

“Yep. That’s it. I’m sending you dinner next time.” 

Namjoon laughs. “What—?” 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down to you and press your lips on his, putting his words—and your thoughts—to silence with a kiss. 

“I’m sorry for the mess. The perks of having little kids are always having too many things scattered around the house, and—” 

It is still surprising to see how easy and quickly you change depending on the moment. You keep going from Miss In Control to a more subdued figure filled with insecurities. Namjoon knows that he shouldn’t, but he is adamant about changing that tonight, even if it makes him feel a myriad of things inside when you show multiple sides of you at once. 

“It’s all right,” he cuts you off with a half smile, noticing how nervous you are getting about showing him your home. 

As you move aside to start taking off your shoes and coat, Namjoon kicks his own shoes off and takes a quick glance around. Most of the lights are off, yet he can still see through the dim lighting to see what he needs to see. 

Much like his own house, your place has an open space concept, where everything is visible from the foyer. He looks at the living room to his right, where the flat television hangs against the wall, surrounded by wooden shelves filled with books and trinkets and boxes filled with toys. To his left is the open kitchen, the room is slightly more spacious than his, and cleaner, with a hint of the scent coming from the last meal you cooked today still wafting through the air. 

Truth be told, he doesn’t mind at all about how the house looks like at the moment. He even thinks that your home feels comfy, more welcoming and lively than his own, which makes him feel good and warm inside as he steps onto the threshold of your home. 

Still, right now, he has other—more important—things to pay close attention to.  

Namjoon waits until you are done taking your coat off before approaching you. 

He places an arm around your shoulders, hinting at his need to get closer. When you show no sign of pushing him away, he pulls you towards him gently, and you willingly lean into him until you are engulfed completely in his warmth, and he feels your soft body pressing against his hard muscles. He bends down and your lips meet each other, warm and welcoming as they mesh into a kiss. 

For a split second, Namjoon can feel you hesitating. But then your arms come up to wrap around him before returning the kiss. It feels gentle and soft, yet Namjoon can feel every cell in his body lighting up at the touch, and he allows that hope he ignored before to rise as he melts into the kiss

Namjoon is a firm believer that a person can tell quite a lot about the other by the way they kiss, and that the first kiss will define how the night will continue. 

He feels you parting your lips slowly as your fingers curl into fists, balling the back of his shirt. He can taste the fruity taste of your lip-gloss which you put on during your toilet break before the two of you left the bar, and he can also taste a hint of the drink you had as he lightly brushes the tip of his tongue against yours. 

The simple contact earns a soft hum from your throat, and then you tip your head back and open your mouth, asking him for more. He gladly gives it to you as he slides one hand up your waist and cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. Your grip around him tightens when his tongue pushes past your lips, bringing heat all over your body and his as he devours your mouth, and you respond by pressing your hips into his. 

Feeling like he is burning from within, Namjoon starts to pull away. But you are not having it. You move your hand to his face, and then bring him back down until his lips are back on yours. You take charge this time, kissing him as if your very existence depends on it, and Namjoon smiles into the kiss as he follows your lead.  

Tonight is going to be a good night.

As your mind grows hazy from the heated kiss, you start stumbling back until you are pressed against the front door. 

It rattles under your weight, and starts making other noises when Namjoon presses harder against you the deeper the kiss you share. You feel his feet moving, sliding between your legs, only to stop when his toes come in contact with one of Hana’s squeaky toys that had somehow fallen in the foyer. 

You break away from the kiss at the sound of his deep chuckle. The way he seems more amused than he is annoyed pleases you so that your body grows impossibly hotter. How can something so simple as a guy chuckling over a simple kid toy, completely understanding it instead of getting angry and complaining over something so trivial—just like someone you once knew and wish so badly to forget—look so incredibly hot? 

Expecting to hear him say something about it, you lift your face to look at him, only for Namjoon to bend lower again and try to kiss your lips. Bunching his shirt with your fingers, you stop him and start pushing him through the dark hall and into the kitchen, where you know there won’t be any trail of toys getting in the way. 

Namjoon lets you drag him around with a grin on his face. It seems to please him that you are the one taking the initiative, showing him that you want him just as much as he does. 

As you push him deeper into the kitchen, your hands tracing his hard chest and your lips nipping his jawline, you wonder where all of this confidence is coming from. 

It could be coming from the buzz rushing through your mind and body. It could also be this want inside you which has been lying dormant for so long, awakened simply by the heat of his kiss. Either way, you are surprised to find how easy it is to simply give in. To follow what your heart desires as if it is guiding you through the motions. 

While most of the lights have been turned off when you left your house earlier, the light from the microwave is on, casting a soft, golden glow which falls nicely on him, accentuating every line—both on his face and his body—which you desire so badly to touch and kiss and taste. 

You pull him down for that desirable kiss, and he dives straight down, his lips crashing into yours. And then he starts kissing you fast, hard, as if his very existence depends on this kiss. You kiss him back with the same need, taking his lip between your teeth, drawing a soft sound coming out of his throat. His chest rumbles against yours as he gently pushes you backwards. 

Namjoon pins you against the kitchen counter, placing you between the hard counter and his rock-hard chest. He moves his knees between your legs, keeping them apart. You can feel his cock straining against his jeans as he bucks his hips forward, pressing roughly into your stomach. Then he moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, sucking, making you moan, distracting you from the object of his desire that you want so badly to touch.

Without unlatching his lips from your skin, Namjoon sweeps his fingers across your collarbone, finding the strap from your top that is already hanging off your shoulder. He pulls away, his dark gaze following his fingers as he unhooks the other strap off your shoulder until your top falls down to your waist, exposing your lacy dark purple bra which you had intentionally chosen for the night. 

He watches closely as your chest rises and falls with your ragged breath, murmuring softly, “Beautiful. You are so hot, baby.”

Your entire body shudders with the sound of his deep voice, recognising the hunger in it. Heat forms in your belly after knowing that his words are meant for you. He slowly walks his palms up your body, reaching up to cup your breasts with his strong palms. 

A moan slips out of your lips at his touch, when the gentle pressure he is giving on your mounds sends heated sparks through your body. The sound you are making seems to snap something in him, as he moves his mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, teasing, while his thumbs begin to move over your covered nipples in small circles. 

You draw a sharp inhale of breath at the delightful sensation he is making you feel, which is swallowed by his kiss. Your chest rises, pressing your breasts into his palms. The shiver running through your body feels so intense, blocking everything else as you push your tongue back into his mouth at the same time your hands slip under his shirt. 

His skin feels warm. His chest feels firm and broad. You can feel his breath hitching at the touch of your fingers, his body shivering as your hands start inching closer and closer to his cock as you walk them down his torso. 

It draws a deep groan from him, yet he keeps kissing you. He continues to caress your breasts until your nipples grow hard against his palms, and that is when he finally moves his hands down. You only get to pop the button of his jeans open before he catches your wrists, stopping you from going further as he brings them to your back, pinning them together to confine you. 

You push and strain against his grasp, only to fail when his hold is firm. Surprisingly, being restrained in his hold and losing control is not making you feel powerless. Instead, it becomes a complete turn-on to have someone taking control of you that your body heats up with a stronger need for more. 

Shocked at this revelation, you pull back with a gasp. 

“Let me touch you,” you whine as you try to pull your hands out of his, drawing a deep chuckle from him. 

“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want to see all of you first.”  

He kisses you again, deep enough to make you arch your back so your hips are pressed into his. You widen your legs and he presses forward, his toned thigh pressing at your pulsing center. The sensation you feel as you begin rubbing your covered pussy over his thigh feels explosive, and it is driving you insane that you cannot touch him at the same time. 

You feel him smiling in the kiss, clearly enjoying this; your desperation and need, and the way you are chasing for pleasure even under his restraint. He moves his mouth to your neck again, nipping at the skin. You try to twist your arm to set yourself free, but Namjoon lifts his head to stop you with a look. 

“These naughty hands need to stay back, baby. Do you hear me?” he asks as he guides your hands to rest against the small of your back, your wrists resting on the hard countertop pressing from behind you. 

Your mouth falls open, but every complaint and defiance that you want to give him fades under his dark gaze. Pulling away, Namjoon grabs the hem of your top and pulls it over your head, dropping it behind him, before he once again guides your hands to return to their position on your back. He leans back just enough for him to run his gaze over your body, giving you an appreciative look while humming softly. 

The heat of his gaze only brings back your insecurities, however, as you grow nervous under his trailing eyes, and you look away, casting a quick glance down your middle. Having two kids over the years has left a few things behind; light scars, stretch marks marring your skin, and uneven curves forming in places which you can only hide under your daily clothes. You realise only now one of the many reasons why you had never considered dating and being intimate again with someone—anyone—and much less have any interest in having hookups or one-night-stand. 

Namjoon notices the change of mood in your silence. He captures your chin and gently draws your gaze back to his face. “Don’t be shy,” he murmurs as he presses a light kiss on your lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

You blink, once again his words winning as you feel your heart strengthening, gaining back your confidence. “You really think so?” you ask him after taking an audible breath. 

“God, yes,” he says with a slight groan in his voice, drawing a soft giggle out of you. “Don’t you ever question it, baby.” 

Biting down your smile, your eyes flutter down with pleasure and relief. “Good.” 

“Now, where were we?” he asks as he lets go of your chin, his arms dropping to his sides. He reaches down to unbutton your tight pants, yet you beat him to it when you take the hem of his shirt in your hands and help him pull it off, before tossing it away out of reach. 

“Naughty girl. What did I say about those hands?” he asks, and then he is kissing you again to distract you from taking back control. 

He wraps his arm around your waist. For a second, you expect him to lift you up and set you up on the counter. Just like those scenes you have often read in the spicy romance book you have edited over the years. But then he surprises you when he lifts you up to carry you away, taking you towards the dining table instead. 

With your eyes fluttering close in the kiss, the only thing you notice is the sound of the chair scrapping on the floor, before he releases you and falls back. Your mind is hazy when you open your eyes, seeing him sitting back on the dining chair while guiding you to stand between his parted legs. 

Swaying a little, you lean into his touch as he sneaks his fingers down the waistband of your tight pants and begins pulling them down. “Let me see these off, baby.” 

He doesn’t have to say it twice, as you slip your thumbs down the band of your pants and begin wiggling it down your legs. You keep your eyes on him while kicking the pants away, ignoring the shudder running through your body at the heat of his gaze and the chill breeze falling on your exposed skin. 

Sneaking a glance down your body, you follow his gaze to be able to see what he is seeing. You are relieved that you had at least thought of choosing a matching pair of new undergarments to wear tonight, instead of wearing your old mismatched ones like you usually do when you have to rush in the mornings. 

Standing in front of him like this makes you feel self-conscious. But the desire that is so palpable in his eyes helps you ignore all unappealing thoughts you ever have about yourself. 

Smiling coyly to him, you sweep your hands up your stomach, slowly reaching up over your breasts. His hands begin to clench on his side as he watches you kneading your covered breasts. You watch him licking his lips when you press your breasts until they come together, offering him with a gentle voice, “Do you like what you’re seeing? Do you want me to take this off too?” 

“No, not yet. I want to enjoy seeing you like this a bit longer,” Namjoon answers you with a deep voice that sounds almost like a growl. “Come here.” 

At his gentle command, your legs move on their own, taking you closer to him. He grabs your waist, keeping you steady as you climb onto his lap, your legs spreading wide around his waist and your arms come around his broad shoulders. 

Being in this position allows you to feel everything. To feel more. 

Every part of him feels hard against your soft body. His warmth comes pressing on every inch of your skin, allowing you to feel the heat rushing under, pooling from between your legs. You feel exposed, and the sensation is intensified as you have your legs opened for him. 

Smiling, Namjoon walks his hand around your waist. With his palm splayed on your back, he gently pushes you forward. Once again, you collide into each other, your breasts are crushed against his chest, and your lips are entangled with his in a hard, needy kiss. 

His kiss is slow, gentle, almost languid. Almost as if he is trying to savour the moment, yet it feels as if you are melting into him. You can still feel him taking control of this moment when his lips are pressing hard against yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth to swallow the sounds you are making. 

In the rising pleasure, your brain is slowly turning into mush. Your eyes flutter close, and you revel in the sensations that he is bringing to your body, to every single touch and kiss. You drown yourself in his heated kiss, as he swallows your moans with his mouth and tongue. You lean into his strong hands as one moves up your stomach, cupping your breast and rubbing against your hardened nipple, and the other moves along the curves of your body, trailing down your waist to your hips, before cupping your soft bottom. 

His palm presses harder into your soft flesh, making you grow alert of your own movements, finally noticing that your body seems to have gained a mind of its own, moving and grinding his lap in the heat of the moment. 

Your covered center starts growing hot and wet as you keep rubbing against his hips. A gasp escapes your throat as you feel his covered hard-on pressing at your pulsing center. Using his palm, Namjoon guides your steady rocking, each thrust forward falling in tune with each thrust and stroke of his tongue in your mouth. 

Within moments, the heat inside your core rising into small waves of pleasure. Drunken in lust, you lean into him more to chase it, rocking harder, faster, pressing more into his hard cock until you feel like you are hanging on the edge of release. 

“Oh, God,” you gasp against his mouth, moments too close to your first orgasm. 

Namjoon mutters a curse, and his hands tighten on the soft flesh of your bottom, putting everything into a halt. He flips you around to face away from him, doing it with such ease as if you weigh nothing. As you fall back against his chest, your knees drape over his thighs, spreading wide, your throbbing pussy facing away from his heat, away from the its final release. 

“You need relief, baby?” His voice sounds thick as he whispers to your ear. Without waiting for your answer, his fingers zero in on the exact place where you need them to be, as he begins rubbing your clit from over your delicate panties. “Hmmm? I need you to answer me. Let me know what you want.” 

“Yes,” you hiss at his touch, barely able to answer his question while urging him on as you rock your hips into his touch. Namjoon’s other hand moves up to cup your breast, kneading and squeezing until you feel your nipple growing hard under your bra. The ache building on your breasts pulses in the same rhythm as the throbbing you feel building on your clit, which he presses the pad of his fingers onto, moving them in circles. 

“God, Namjoon,” you whine, already panting when he keeps touching all the right places, inciting all the reactions from your body as heat rises from your core. Reaching down, you place your hand over his, your fingers pressing atop of his strong digits as you press against them, causing his touch to grow firm and steady, before you slip your fingers under and slide your panties aside for him. 

Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he groans deeply. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, baby. Offer that sweet little pussy for me.” 

Your cheeks flush with warmth upon hearing his words, and then the warmth spreads through your body when his fingers move to touch your flesh. His fingers are big and strong, yet delicate at the same time. They glide over your slit, which has grown embarrassingly wet, capturing every essence of your arousal as he moves them between your folds. You press your pelvis down to meet his touch, urging him on, and he complies by working his middle finger inside you. 

It feels like forever since the last time you have had sex, and it surely shows because you can already feel your orgasm building the second he starts pumping his finger inside you. The pleasure feels maddening. Enough to make you lose control of yourself as your body rocks with him. You don’t even recognise the sounds coming out of your throat as you embrace the sensations he brings out of you. 

As he feels you giving in to the pleasure, Namjoon adds a second finger, stretching you further. 

Your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out with pleasure. Your body falls lax against him, powerless against his touch. So he moves his other arm down, wrapping it around your waist to keep you from falling as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out, all while pressing the heel of his palm against your clit until you are weeping with desire. When he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, your pussy clutches on emptiness. 

Needing friction, or something to relief this new need of yours, you begin pressing your wet mound against his thigh, intending to start rubbing against it until you find some kind of release. But Namjoon stops you by delivering a sharp slap, right between your legs. 

“Naughty,” he growls in your ear. “I thought this pussy is mine?” 

Your hips shoot up at the lingering ache, which awakens the throbbing inside your pussy, causing your mind to go fuzzy with the mixed of pain and pleasure he brings to your body. 

Namjoon spanks your pussy again, lighter this time, before going slightly harder when coming back for the third time. Then, as if he knows that you are about to explode, he shoves two fingers right back inside you and starts fucking you with them, moving hard and rough, no longer holding back. It feels intense, sending you light speed towards the peak of your pleasure. 

With a cry slipping out of your lips, your head falls back on his shoulder as the wave of pleasure engulfs you. Digging your nails into his forearms, you ride his fingers, bucking against each thrust of his hand, your walls clenching tightly around him, and your toes curling underneath. Your orgasm comes to you strongly, going on and on while Namjoon keeps his fingers wedged inside you, and you can feel your walls contracting around them as you come all over them. 

Dear God, help me. 

You find yourself praying. Never before had you ever lost control the way you do now. Never once have you ever felt so much pleasure, to make you feel something so intense that you feel like you are losing your mind. 

Namjoon waits until you come down from your release before easing his fingers out of you. Your body grows limp against his, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you to hold you still. His lips find your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss while he smooths your panties back in place. 

“That’s it, sweet mama. Relax with me,” he murmurs in your ear, helping you calm down before rearranging your position until you come to face him once more, your legs straddling his toned thighs, pressing against his muscles, his warmth, and the rapid pounding of his heartbeat under your palms.  

“Everything okay?” 

You are still too delirious that you can barely think straight, yet you manage to nod and whisper, “Yeah. Everything’s good.” 

Looking into his eyes, you reach down between your bodies and press your palm over his covered bulge. “But I’m not sure that you’re feeling the same.” 

Groaning deeply, Namjoon’s eyes flutter to close. You continue stroking his covered cock, feeling it hardening under your touch and pushing against his pants that is partly undone. “Keep touching me like that, mama. And I’ll fuck you right here, right now. Or I’ll take you right on top of that counter, right where you’ll be making breakfast for your sweet girls the first morning they’re home.” 

His threat draws a moan from deep within your throat. Biting your lips, you steal a glance towards the kitchen counter. As tempting as it sounds to follow your wanton desire, to be taken hard and rough right where you spend most of your days and mornings, you want something different. You don’t want this to end so quickly, for the night to feel so instant, and you want to savour this pleasure for as long as you are allowed to.  

“Mmm…No, we can’t have that,” you whisper, turning to him to nip his jaw, making him groan. Carefully, you step back from his lap. Your legs are trembling when you try to stand on your own, yet you muster a smile as you calmly say, “Come.” 

You hold out your hand and he grabs it as he rises to his feet. He follows you down the hall and up the stairwell. Past the landing which is surrounded by framed pictures of yourself with your family and your sweet girls and their creative drawings filling the walls, you continue walking upstairs, feeling more self-conscious the closer you get to your bedroom. 

Right before your nerves begin to get in the way, Namjoon’s arms come around you, holding you to his chest as you crash through the doorway to your bedroom. His lips capture yours, swallowing the sound of your laughter until you fall backwards on the bed. 

Standing on the foot of the bed, Namjoon stands tall, a solid figure standing at the center of your world of chaos. He says nothing as he runs his gaze over your body, appreciating what he sees one last time which brings back your confidence. All for knowing that he is liking what he sees. 

Drawn by the urge to touch him, to feel, you push yourself up and start tugging his pants down. “Off—” you murmur as you struggle to peel the damn thing off of him, earning his chuckle. Namjoon helps you halfway, stopping briefly to pull something out of his back pocket before he tosses his whole pants away. He wastes no more time to continue where he left off, as he pushes you back to the bed and lowers himself to you. 

Your arms go around his shoulders to welcome him. Your eyes meet each other again, allowing you to see something that you failed to notice before. Behind his heated gaze, the warm dimple smile, and the alluring words filled with his raw desire, lies another emotion haunting like a shadow. 

An emotion that you know too damn well as it mirrors your own. 

Desperation. 

Swallowing hard, you feel the same emotion coming out of you in strides; the desperation to belong and to be happy; to be able to move through life without being haunted by the unwarranted fear of getting hurt. The desperation to feel. 

Allowing that emotion to take over, you pull him down to you and kiss him deeply. You run your hands down his back, pressing at his spine until he lowers his hips onto yours. You can feel his hard cock pressing on you, its wet tip sticking out from the top of his briefs, rubbing against your skin. You regret not having the chance to have a look at it, to appreciate it through more than your dainty touch. Yet you cannot deny the desperate need to feel him inside you, filling you up until there is nothing left of you when he is done. 

Arching your back, you rock against him, pressing your tender center against his bulge. His mouth unlatches from yours, and then he pulls the lacy cups of your bra with a rough tug, tucking them under your breasts to push them up. He keeps his palms on them, touching them directly this time, skin to skin, bringing all the shudders back and rising twofolds as you cry out his name. 

His mouth finds your neck, and the touch of his lips is almost enough to make you come and unravel right there and then, yet you manage to hold back with a bite of your lip. Without taking his mouth off of you, Namjoon runs his hand down, finding your center and pressing down. The pleasure sparks through your body like fireworks as he rubs in circles against your covered center, pressing against your slit, rubbing at your covered clit, and then finding your wetness to draw out more essence out of you. 

Every nerve in your body comes awake and lights up at the same time, allowing you to feel everything that he is giving you. Engulfed in the pleasure, you barely feel him as Namjoon starts moving down, spreading his fingers down your thighs to part your legs for him, before plunging his head between your quivering thighs. 

You feel a soft tug at your panties, and then cold breeze touches your skin as Namjoon slides the center of your panties aside, exposing your tender pussy. “I wanted to taste you so badly,” he murmurs against your skin as he presses his lips on the apex of your thigh, then he moves to the other side, before reaching to the center, drawing a sharp cry out of you when he presses a kiss right at your folds. 

His tongue drags through your flesh before he sucks gently on your swollen bud. A shiver shoots right up through your body as pleasure sparks from beneath, and he starts fucking you with his tongue. In and out he presses and licks with his warm, soft tongue, tasting your essence with a deep hum, while his mouth keeps stealing a kiss and sucking, intensifying the pleasure. 

With your hands sinking into the sheets beneath you, your hips begin to move, rocking against his mouth and riding the sensation as it grows more and more intense. You lift your head to watch him work. The look he gives you when he returns your gaze causes your body to twitch, your muscles tightening as pleasure coils through your core. 

With a grin, Namjoon buries his face deeper, his teeth grazing at your clit before lapping at the swollen bud with his tongue to take away the pinch of pain. The sensation sends your body falling back. Still rocking your hips to ride the pleasure, you twist the sheets in one hand, and then take a handful of his short hair with the other. 

It doesn’t take long before the familiar wave of pleasure starts rolling through your body, rising intensely from the depth of your core. Your breath quickens as you are climaxing into his mouth. It comes so strongly that you can feel it rushing all the way down to your toes. A series of breathless moans come out of your lips at the same pace as the pulses of pleasure coming alight from inside as your orgasm rolls through your body. 

Your head is ringing with the waves of your orgasm that you barely aware of how you are pulling at his hair, twisting the short strands in your grasp as you writhe beneath him. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not even when he feels you slowly coming down from your high. 

Namjoon continues to lap at your taste, licking away your release as he murmurs gently against your mound, “Fuck, you taste so damn good, baby.” 

His voice fades in and out of you, until he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. He pushes right in, curling the tip as he pulls out, finding the sweet spot that sends another jolt of pleasure through your body. Realising this, he adds another finger and starts working them at the same rhythm as the movement of his tongue. Your legs begin shaking, your hips are rising against his other palm that is resting on your lower belly to keep you down, but nothing holds you from erupting as the force of your second orgasm quickly rolls through you, sending you over the edge with a cry. 

You feel a shift on the bed as Namjoon moves on top of you and presses his lips on yours. The remnants of your orgasm is still pulsing through you, and your ears are still ringing, that you can only take what he is giving you, letting him bring you back to the present with his kiss. 

Once you manage to catch your breath, you bring your hands up to him and start pushing his briefs down his hips. He rises slightly from you, taking away his weight and his warmth as he kicks his briefs down his ankle and away. His hand reaches down, wrapping his fingers around his hard girth. 

This time, you take the chance to appreciate his beauty. Just like his hard body, his cock seems beautiful, big and thick and heavy even in his strong palm. 

With his eyes on your face, Namjoon begins lowering himself on you. Your hips rise to welcome him when you feel his cock falling heavy on your stomach. Your hand reaches down between you, as if you are under a spell. Your fingers wrap around him, drawing a soft gasp from his lips. 

Licking your lips, you watch yourself giving him a few light strokes. He seems to enjoy this, as his hips slowly move to return each stroke, each brush of your palm with a thrust of his cock. Groaning deeply, Namjoon bends down to cover you with his hard body. His lips find your neck, kissing the column of your throat as his fingers return to your mounds, pressing into your slit and using the slickness of your arousal and release to move around your entrance. 

“Namjoon, please—” Your breath catches when you feel the tip of his finger pressing at your entrance, pushing against your sensitive walls. He enters you slowly with his fingers. It feels delightful, yet you are ready to feel more. “Mhhh…not enough,” you whine breathlessly, “I want you…inside…now.” 

He chuckles against your throat, and the vibrations you feel coming from his body aren’t exactly helping to lessen the pool of desire between your legs, nor the tight clench of your walls around his fingers. He gives your pussy a few more thrusts of his fingers before he pulls them out, and reaches out to the other side of the bed. 

The soft crinkle sound of a foil gets your heartbeat speeding up in your chest. It’s happening, the voice in your head whispers. Excitement rolls through you, and a wicked through flashes through your head when you meet his gaze again. 

You bite your lip and smile, and then you lift your hands, pushing against his shoulders to bring him down onto the mattress. You follow him as he falls back, and then you climb on top of him, enjoying the thrill rushing through you when you see the shock clearly flashing through his gaze. 

He grips your hips as you straddle him, keeping you steady until you are sitting in the right position. So right that you can feel his hard cock pressing at your slick center from beneath. 

“Well, damn,” he chuckles as he watches you press down your hips on him. “That’s it. Take control, mama. Show me what you want from me.” 

You make a humming sound as you begin rocking over him, pressing down against his length. Your panties have grown completely soiled, placed improperly over your mound that you can feel him partly rubbing against your skin. “You know what I want,” you whisper, moaning when you feel his girth rubbing at your clit. 

Hoping to feel more, you continue rocking, rubbing your center along the length of his cock. But it isn’t enough. The panties keep getting in the way just when you are close to getting what you want. You reach down to begin peeling the damn thing off of you when Namjoon takes over. 

“Let me help you with that,” he says, before he suddenly lifts himself up to a sitting position. His hands are quick to catch your waist to stop you from falling back, keeping you on his lap as he moves his hand to your back.

His eyes look down on your heaving chest, and then his hands are pulling at your undergarments. Starting from your bra, as he expertly peels it off of you within a blink of an eye, then continuing to reach down. The ripping sound of your panties as they fall apart fills the room before you can feel yourself being freed from its presence. The strong pull that he gives on the flimsy fabric barely feels like anything on your skin, your mind too muddled to process it until it is too late. 

The moment it dawns on you what is happening, there is nothing else that you can do but to watch with wide eyes, mouth gaping in shock, as Namjoon lifts your ruined panties to his lips and breathes in.

“You won’t be needing them for a while,” he says with a hum at the sound of your sharp inhale of breath.   

“You’re so bad.” An incredulous laugh comes out of you as he tosses the tattered panties away. 

His hands return to your waist then and he pulls you closer, settling you down nicely on his lap as he asks, “Maybe I am. Are you going to punish me for being a bad boy?” 

“Maybe I will,” you tease him as you run your fingers up his chest, pushing him back down. “Naughty boy.” 

The glimmer of the foil he is holding between his fingers catches your attention. You pick it up, ripping the foil and letting the rubber fall on your palm. “Is this okay?” 

He nods, and then his eyes darken as you gently slide the condom down the length of his cock. Your can feel him twitching under your touch, his head falling back briefly with a groan coming out of his throat when the tips of your fingers meet his skin. Once he is perfectly covered, you move back into position. 

Namjoon gently guides you back over him, straddling him once again without anything else getting in the way this time. 

You lean forward and place a kiss on his lips, one that feels a bit too sweet and shy. For a moment, your confidence wanes. Being on top of him, unrestrained, and being in complete control makes you feel subconscious with yourself. It makes you feel insecure, suddenly feeling worried that you might not be enough. 

As you sit up, your pussy rocks against his cock. You can feel his girth pressing against the dampness which has been growing between your legs, the heat of his body radiates from him and it transfers through your body with each pulse of his blood that you feel against you. 

His fingers find their place between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow circles, drawing moans after moans, shudders rolling through your body that you begin moving in response to his touch. Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for friction. You continue rolling your body as he presses just a bit harder, drawing yet another moan from your lips that comes together with the intense shiver surging from your core. 

Enjoying the way you are reacting to him, he rises up to steal a kiss, chuckling softly against your mouth when he feels the twitch of your hips when his cock is pressing harder against your folds. He pulls back, showing you his wicked grin that has your heart beating rapidly. 

You lift your hips, and he reaches down to position his cock against your opening. Your body instantly trembles when you feel him nudging against your pussy, spreading your entrance to allow himself in. Then you begin to slide down on him, taking it slow as you take his cock inside you, inch by delicious inch. Your legs quiver around him as you feel him spreading your tight walls, yet you welcome him with a slow moan, allowing yourself to take him deeper as you continue going down, until he is almost fully inside you and you are nearly resting on his hips. 

A pulse rocks through you once, and you carefully lift yourself up, sliding up his length and coming back down, getting deeper in your descent. 

“You are so perfect,” he whispers to you as you continue riding his cock, keeping a slow pace as you adjust yourself to his size. 

Namjoon falls back, letting you take control. Something that no other person has ever done before. He keeps his eyes on you as you continue moving on top of him, sliding up and down the length of his cock, while embracing the waves of pleasure that you get to feel from your constant rocking. His eyes are filled with admiration as he watches you move, your head falling back at the height of your pleasure, your chest arching, showing him the sight of your shaking breasts. 

“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, taking your breasts in his hands. You relish every single sensation you are feeling with a moan. It feels incredible. Not just this—the sex, the feeling of him being buried inside your heat, filling you up and giving you pleasure—but also for feeling like you are free. 

Sitting naked on top of such a gorgeous man, rocking up and down his cock, enjoying the pleasure without your nerves getting in the way, your insecurities left forgotten. It feels so damn empowering to be owning up to your sexuality, to your wanton desire, after having it denied for so long. All because of your haunting past making you feel like you are less than the person you are now. 

These thoughts push you to ride him harder, faster, your fingers sinking into the sheets on either side of him to anchor you against him, while his fingers grow tighter on your hips to help you ride him to chase your pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby,” he urges you on with a breathy voice, deep groans slipping out of him when you begin fucking him wildly. “Go on, let it go, mama.” 

Holding you up against him, Namjoon begins rocking his hips, thrusting up to meet you in your descend. The maddening pleasure rocks through you, and another wave of climax sets off, coiling from your core, up to your lower belly. And right as you are ready to plunge into your climax, Namjoon bends forward, capturing one of your nipples with his mouth and begins sucking, while he reaches up to pinch the other with his fingers. 

With a sharp cry, you unravel completely without fail. Your orgasm comes to you not in waves but an explosion, the pain only intensifies the pleasure as it hits, and your body trembles as you embrace it. 

Everything fades in and out as your mind and body recovers from the intense high. Your legs are quivering too much that you fall onto his chest, and Namjoon carefully flips you to the side until you are on your back. Ears once again ringing, the sounds of him moving on the sheets seem so distant. But you can feel the dip when he lowers himself on you, his lips finding yours, bringing you back, and then pressing against your neck to quiet down the rapid pulsing of blood surging under your skin. 

Once your mind regains clarity, you notice his hand moving. You open your eyes when you cannot feel his touch, and realise that he is giving himself some lazy strokes. “You haven’t gotten yours,” you whisper with a raspy voice, and his grin returns. 

“You’ve already came too many times, so—” 

Shaking your head, you reach up and pull him back to you. “I can’t be the only one feeling good tonight,” you insist as you capture his lips, enticing him with a light bite. As he returns the kiss, your legs spread open for him, welcoming him back to you. “I want to make you feel good too.” 

Groaning, Namjoon deepens the kiss. Still stroking himself, he uses the other hand to gently touch your tender pussy, making sure that you won’t hurt if he continues. “Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, before feeling you nod. 

Unable to wait long, he quickly gets between your legs again. He covers you with his heat, his toned chest pressing down against your body, delightfully engulfing you with his warmth. Then his hips rock forward, pressing the wet tip of his stiff cock against your pulsing heat. Your back arches the moment you feel him pushing, just enough until you feel the tip penetrating your entrance.

“Namjoon—” you gasp out his name, and his hands come down to your hips, holding you still as he enters you, thrusting deep and slow. 

Your legs are spread wider, giving him room to get as deep as he possibly can until your hips are flushed against each other. 

Fuck yes, you can hear yourself screaming in your head, while your mouth gapes open with a breathless moan at how full you are feeling with him snugged inside your pussy. 

“God, fuck—you feel amazing,” he breathes out as he too becomes still. 

Your body clenches around his cock at hearing his words, loving how his praise is stroking at your ego. It seems that your body has gotten used to him so well that he feels like a perfect fit inside you. 

“You don’t feel too bad yourself,” you playfully tease him, making him groan deeply that you can feel his entire body vibrating all the way to your core. 

“Not bad, huh?” he groans, almost sounding feral when he continues his gentle rocking. “Guess I’ll have to stop holding back, then.” 

With a groan, he pulls back almost all the way out and thrusts back into you, rocking both of you against the mattress as he fucks you into it. You grab tightly on the messy sheets beneath you, already tangled by the previous rocking and fucking and growing even messier now that he is picking up pace immediately. It feels intense, making you feel delirious as he moves in and out of you rapidly. And it feels so damn good that you just don’t want it to stop. 

“Oh, baby...so perfect,” he gasps, and you open your eyes to see his eyes glazing over with pleasure as he gets lost in your body. 

It turns you on so badly to see a man unraveling this way—to be so lost in his pleasure and growing feral as he gives in completely to the sensation. At the same time, it makes you feel powerful, knowing that you are the one making him this way. For someone like him to let his guard down and show you the real part of him. To let you see how raw and passionate he becomes when he is bringing pleasure to both of your bodies. 

It makes you feel so hot, and it feels so good, that it practically sends you straight into your final climax. To unravel the same way he does at the pleasure of his lovemaking. 

“Keep tightening around me like that, and I won’t last long,” he warns you, while you can only hold back a grin. As if you will take his words like you would to a threat. 

You run your hands up his chest, feeling up his toned muscles as they strain with each thrust he is giving you, before you reach up to the back of his neck and grab a handful of his short hair. A smile grows on your face when he lets out another groan, and his hips nearly buckle and twitch as his rocking begins to grow haste. 

He’s close. 

“Oh, fuck. I’m coming,” he groans, although it almost sounds like he is shouting.

“Yes, please. Come with me. I’m also there,” you whimper breathlessly when your orgasm starts to build. 

His grip on your hips tightens as he begins pumping into you fast and hard, hitting all the right spots. You almost believe that he is also growing firmer, harder, bigger, that the only thing you can feel is him, rubbing against your throbbing walls and pushing you over the edge. 

A scream slips out of you when the orgasm hits like a massive wave. Your back is almost lifted completely off the bed as your entire body vibrates with pleasure. You can hear him shouting under the sound of your rapid heartbeat, before you feel him pulsing, spilling his heat into you as he joins you in his own orgasm. 

Your legs are wrapped around his hips while your arms are hooked around his neck as you hold onto him, refusing to let go as you relish the waves of your orgasm until they begin to settle. You have barely gotten back control of your breathing when he leans down, capturing your lips into a kiss. 

The kiss is slow, almost languid, and just as gentle as the movement of his hands as he runs them down your sweaty body. You can still the spasms of your climax lingering as he slowly pulls out of you, allowing you to feel his presence even as he pulls away, dropping right beside you with a soft grunt. 

Your eyes are already fluttering to close while he takes his time taking care of his soiled condom and tossing it away to the trash. Yet you are still coherent when he returns, engulfing you in his strong arms, filling your breath with his scent. 

“That was fucking amazing,” he mumbles against your skin as you feel his lips pressing on your bare shoulder. 

“Hmm…yes, it was…” 

A sigh leaves your lips. The content feeling weaving through your body steals the words that you want so badly to say. 

Incredible. Astounding. 

“Magical,” you find yourself whispering, drawing a soft chuckle from him. 

You look at him through your hazy eyes, finding him looking back at you with a different shadow lingering in his gaze which makes you want to say the words that you never expected you would say to him. 

Stay the night. 

The words die on your tongue as sleep is slowly dragging you down. You try to fight it, even if you aren’t quite sure about saying those words out loud. You have no idea what will come out of this. All you can think about is that you don’t want this to end too soon. 

“The girls are out all weekend, aren’t they?” His voice breaks the silence, forcing you to open your eyes. 

“Yes, they’re staying at their grandparents. I won’t have to pick them up until Monday afternoon,” you breathlessly answer, recalling faintly how your mother had offered to take Suzy to school and Hana to kindergarten so you wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her house on a Sunday, expecting you to sleep through your hangover and spend the day resting. “Why are you asking?” 

“I just wasn’t sure how they would react coming home to find a grown-ass man snuggling with their mom.” He softly chuckles, and in a brief moment of silence, you see a different look appearing in his eyes. A part of him that seems more vulnerable coming out of him in waves, right before he asks you, “Unless you want me out of here?” 

Once again, you can see yourself in his gaze. To once again share the same emotions, the same vulnerability which feels too damn familiar. Deep down, you start wishing that you didn’t see it. Because seeing this side of him only makes you care a lot more than you should for someone who is only supposed to be your one-night-stand. Because seeing it only makes you want more. 

You close your eyes and try not to think too deeply about it. Not when your mind is still muddled from the wild sex you just had with him. And when his touch is still lingering on your skin. 

You can worry about this tomorrow, you hear the same small voice in your head whispering, and you decide that you are going to listen this time. 

Pushing yourself up, you pull the blanket from the foot of the bed and drag it up to cover both of your nakedness before sliding back to him. “Nope, you’re staying,” you firmly say as you tuck him in. “I promised to make you dinner, but I really don’t have any energy left to leave the bed right now, so you can make it up by helping me make breakfast tomorrow.” 

Namjoon laughs. He visibly relaxes beside you when he mutters, “I love it when you boss me around.” 

You stop to look at him, biting your lips before asking, “Would you mind if I keep doing that?” 

His smile softens, and the alluring dimple returns for a brief second as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Boss me around anytime, mama. I’ll be good. I promise.” 

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think. See you in the next one! PS. You can get to know Jin the bartender and read his story in Blurred Lines.  Update | you can read more in the short story: Dinner with Mista Joonie

— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[ghostlyferrettarot]

° . ⁺ . ✦ .The 12th House and

Your Dreams .⁺ . ✦ .⁺. °.

❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🩰If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🩰

🩷Masterlist🩷

🩷Aries in the 12th House: Aries is the first sign of the zodiac and is associated with the element of fire; their dreams usually have adventures and it is common to see many new people or places in them. This type of dream generally indicates a great desire to succeed in something and the possibility of doing so, although there will be obstacles that must be overcome, especially if an accident occurs when you are in them.

🩷Taurus in the 12th House: Taurus in the 12th House tend to have great connections with nature, which is why they tend to dream about animals. Although their dreams are interpretive, the truth is that depending on the animal, they may tend to a goal in life or a certain situation. For example, if they dream about animals that fly, they are almost always desires for independence, although in the case of bats, it may predict some upcoming danger.

🩷Gemini in the 12th House: Their dreams reveal a strong need to find their own truth, to connect with the world of the subconscious. They are imaginative and creative. They tend to dream of fantasy and surreal moments, and create new and unexpected worlds.

🩷Cancer in the 12th House: Their dreams often indicate that you want to find a spiritual home, that you need to connect with your family, your roots and your past. You are intuitive, sensitive and tend to have very deep dreams; sometimes their dreams are linked to people who are no longer part of their life.

🩷Leo in the 12th House: Their dreams reveal a deep need to connect with your creative side. They are passionate, so their dreams tend to be linked to the creation of new ideas and often in the exposition of some kind. These people also tend to dream of fires, firefighters, lit candles or flames. This means that they are warning you to be more careful.

🩷Virgo in the 12th House: Their dreams indicate that you aspire to personal development through connection with your spiritual side. They are analytical and perfectionist, and you think you need to work more on your self-esteem and self-confidence, which is why they often dream about what their ideal life is.

🩷Libra in the 12th House: When Libra is in the 12th house it usually reveals that you need to find balance in your spiritual life. For this reason their dreams usually indicate equity, balance or elegance. When they feel threatened or feel danger about their threat or relationship, their subconscious reacts and they begin to dream of confinement or situations that limit their freedom.

🩷Scorpio in the 12th House: Their dreams usually reveal that you have a strong need to connect with your unconscious world, to work on your emotional problems. You are very sensitive and your intuition never fails, so premonitory dreams or visions are not uncommon when it comes to Scorpios. They can dream about moments that have not yet occurred or people they do not yet know.

🩷Sagittarius in the 12th House: reveals the ability to find spirituality in the outside world, through connection with nature, history and philosophy. You are adventurous by nature. Similar to Leo, your dreams are reflected with fire, but also with travel or various activities.

🩷Capricorn in the 12th House: indicates that you have a strong need to give purpose to your life. You are disciplined and ambitious and you feel the need to grow and set challenges for yourself in order to grow emotionally, for this reason your dreams are connected to your environment and personal life. From dreaming about people in your environment to dreaming about your ambitions, the dreams of these natives are linked to their position and professional value at some point.

🩷Aquarius in the 12th House: reveals that you have a strong connection with your spirituality, which is expressed in an authentic and special way. You are innovative and creative, and you believe that the world can change if you strive for it. Dreaming about clouds, extraterrestrial issues, or of an ethereal nature. It is a very flexible sign and could be indicating the need to put your feet on the ground.

🩷Pisces in the 12th House: indicates that you have a natural connection with the spiritual world. You are empathetic, sensitive and intuitive. You may even have developed some unusual abilities related to the mind, which is why you often dream about situations from the past or situations that have marked you in some way. Also, you dream about significant people and you consider that they mark you in a certain way.

[cjlouwho]

There was supposed to be more. You cannot convince me otherwise. It was not supposed to end there. I don’t know if it was at Oliver’s level, or Tim’s level, or higher up, but somewhere things got screwy. There was supposed to be meaning behind the Evan’s, and not just so when he uses Buck it stings. There was a reason they had him be friends with Eddie. There was a reason they brought back an established character to play this role, so he was intertwined with the 118 without the awkwardness. A reason to have him be a firefighter and a pilot. There was a reason for him constantly bringing up his desire for family. It was supposed to mean something, until someone somewhere decided it didn’t.

[lightwise]

Thoughts on Crosshair's Hand Tremor

Crosshair’s missed shots seem to occur often during the initial rounds of a fight, almost like his hand is getting locked up and stiff and needs time to warm up. He’s missed his first shot almost every time they��ve been in a firefight now. There’s most likely nerve damage going on and potentially psychological distress as underlying causes, but it will be interesting to see how it continues to impact him and how Hunter and Wrecker react to it.

And his face here is so gut wrenching. I saw someone point out that the first time it happened he was just furious at his hand for not cooperating. In this moment however, he’s a bit dazed and terrified that it keeps happening, and he doesn’t seem to have much control over it. It is an absolutely terrifying thing when your body starts acting up in ways it hadn’t previously, or stops behaving the way you expect it/are telling it to. Especially when the negative response is both painful and/or impacting your ability to do something important or necessary. You just want it to stop, to go back to normal, to know that you are capable of what you were doing before.

Feeling proud of something, being capable of something, are all necessary things in life. They can often be overly focused on and control our lives in very unhealthy ways, but we all want to feel useful, desired, needed. We all want to have a purpose for being here. Crosshair’s life has been built on his ability to pull a trigger. Who is he without that part of his identity being the driving force? Without it being the only thing of value he thinks he brings to the table.

[thugbiscuits]

october fic rec list 18+ ONLY MDNI

please note: none of these fan fictions were written by me. when you read please make sure to like, comment, and reblog. IT MAKES ALL THE DIFFERENCE. (also go check out their blogs because they have way more delicious writing that you’re looking for 👀)

HEHEHEEHEE thank you for keeping up w/ my monthly recs, honestly. it’s so cool to see writers get recognized for their creative skills and to meet likeminded people on this app ! i love it here sometimes. anyways, enjoy this beautiful spread of fics. love you all MWAH. ageless blogs / minors get blocked

logan howlett fics

➺ swallow (oldman!logan howlett x reader, smut) @strangererotica

➺ hurricane (series, ex bf!logan howlett x reader, smut) @bpmiranda

➺ young rich & in love (dbf!logan howlett x reader, smut) @prettycoolgirl

➺ swipe right, bub (mutant!logan howlett x human!reader, fluff) @shybluebirdninja

➺ big bad wolf (logan howlett x fem!reader, smut) @not-neverland06

➺ verona (boyfriend!logan howlett x reader, fluff) @lanadelreyscokewhor3

➺ size difference (logan howlett x reader, smut) @l0vergirlsw0rld

➺ nameless as a river undiscovered underground (logan howlett x reader, smut) @moonlight-prose

➺ fuck or nothing (logan howlett x reader, smut) @adelliet

➺ be nice! (logan howlett x reader x wade wilson, smut) @hotgirlslovecyclops

➺ like animals (logan howlett x mutant!reader, smut) @areyouwell

➺ logan taking care of drunk reader (fluff) @mcrdvcks

➺ baby fever (logan howlett x reader, smut) @silverskyeline

wade wilson (deadpool) fics

➺ his favorite slut (mean!wade wilson x reader, smut) @softfem-dom

➺ dialed in (deadpool x reader, smut) @tteotlma

➺ involuted (wade wilson x reader, smut) @inklore

➺ blowout (wade wilson x fem!reader, smut) @baka-bakeneko

➺ deadpool as your boyfriend headcanons (deadpool x reader, fluff/smutty) @titaswrld

➺ knee deep in the passengers seat (deadpool x reader, smut) @runawrites-blog

➺ high sex w/ Wade (wade wilson x reader, smut) @lillian-gallows

➺ kinktober #21 (gunplay) (wade wilson x reader, smut) @avocado-writing

bucky barnes fics

➺ fri(end)s (bucky barnes x fem!reader, smut) @buckymorelikefuckme

joel miller fics

➺ maple hazel (joel miller x reader, fluff) @razrbladekiss

➺ seeing pink (joel miller x reader, smut) @gutsby

➺ a burning desire (series, firefighter!joel miller x reader) @honeyedmiller

➺ bdsmaid (series, joel miller x reader, smut) @mountainsandmayhem

➺ howl-o-ween (joel miller x reader, smut) @covetyou

➺ harder (joel miller x f!reader, smut) @toxicanonymity

➺ sweet cherry (joel miller x f!reader, smut) @aurorawritestoescape

santiago ‘pope’ garcia fics

➺ think about it (pope garcia x reader, smut) @fettuccin-e

➺ when you move, i move (santiago garcia x reader, smut) @noisynaia

cooper adams fics

➺ pretty little princess (cooper adams x reader, smut) @steph-speaks

➺ stockholm syndrome fic (cooper adams x reader, read tags!) @thebutchersbitch

dividers by @/saradika-graphics <3 header by me!

lovey’s note: what do you guys think of the header i made fr? 😭 cause i tried to make her cute ! also please check out all the series on here, im HOOKED seriously