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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 1 month ago

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Chapter 12: Skip The Bagel Next Time

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 11.7K (I know it's a big boi, but so much happens)

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it) and because there is an ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT that the reader stops. Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Dark Themes, Dark Thoughts, Kidnapping, Torture, Blood, GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF DEATH, DEATH, BLOOD, GUTS, Threatening, Denial, A whole lot of denial, Manipulation, Self deprecating thoughts, Talks about weed, Super Manipulative Creepy Trash Man, Sexist Comments, Kinda awkward situation, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

A/N: I'm serious y'all this one is BLOODY, the show is too, but really this one has got A LOT. There is an attempted SEXUAL ASSAULT and there are SEVERAL graphic deaths. If you do not like that or if that will hurt you, please don't read this. I love you all and I don't want anyone to be hurt from this.

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

READER POV

The cold was oppressive, seeping through flesh and bone and scratching along your soul. A chill travelled along the bare plains of your face and fingertips to freeze whatever it could, clawing at your clothes to find the skin hidden beneath. You'd never known cold like this, even in the winters when the snow drifted and swirled overhead, glinting in the streetlights as you shuffled home after a long day you were able to keep it at bay, but now there was little you could do to protect yourself.

For you, cold was deadly, just like the early frost that crept along greening leaves in winter, you too felt the effects of the temperature when it dropped.

You thrived in the sunshine and absorbed the rays like a tree raising it's arms to worship the rising sun, but in the cold you were hollow, like the weathered trunk of an old oak long lost to frost and snow.

The dark and cold surrounded you in a shroud of chill and ice, making you feel tired and alone. And this time you didn’t know how much longer you could go on before you succumbed to the frigid embrace.

You didn't know how many days had passed since Darren left you with Elijah, there weren't any windows in the freezer and no way to tell the passing of time.

That's what you decided to call it.

There was no light in it, but you'd walked the perimeter on shaky legs feeling along the ice covered walls while trying to avoid the pieces of meat hanging from hooks above you.

At least, you hoped it was meat. There was something else that seemed too dark to consider, but after being in here as long as you had, your mind began to inch along the edge of the cliff that beckoned you to leap into the churning water below.

No one had come since you woke up in the darkness and you’d given up counting seconds.

No Elijah, no Darren, no team, and no Ben.

hat last one you weren't sure why you added it to the list or why you separated it from thoughts of your team, but you were starting to believe what Elijah said to you in his office, that Ben hated you and now he wasn't going to come help you.

He said he didn’t care, of course he's not going to come.

The thought wasn't unfamiliar, but it was just as unwelcome. You wanted to believe that your team would come for you or at least Annie. She was your best friend and you knew that she would figure out something was up, but you were worried that Darren had figured out how to keep everyone off his trail. He did have your phone and he was your brother which meant he knew most of what to say if someone texted you. But you tried to remain optimistic that Annie would be able to smell the imposter.

You’d tried talking and shouting at the frozen walls for someone to hear you, screamed yourself hoarse, but there was no one to answer. There's a dull throb in your limbs that won't leave and a hollow in the pit of your stomach. No one had brought food or water, and you'd taken to relieving yourself in the opposite side of the cell.

I guess that's what this is. Elijah put me a cell.

You couldn't hear anything outside, no rumble of the expressway, no splash of water against the rocks, no honking of traffic, and no low murmur of people speaking outside.

It was just you alone in the darkness waiting for whatever came next.

The shudder that works it's way down your spine has nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with Elijah. What he said to you in his office worried you. You weren't one to give in, but the superhuman strength he possessed in was troubling you. And without plants nearby you weren't sure you could fight off someone who was so much stronger.

Not to mention you could feel the weakness of your body beginning to close in on you. Being in the cold was quickly becoming unbearable and you weren't sure how much longer you could take this before it caused permanent damage.

You would cry again if you had anything left. You couldn't believe that Darren would do something like this, that he would allow Elijah to take you and that your brother was so desperate to pay off a debt that he used you as a bargaining chip. You wondered if Darren knew what Elijah would do to you or if he didn't care as long as it settled his debt.

After all these years of me paying off his debts, he probably thought that I'd be happy to do something like this. I've been giving up parts of my life so he could go off and live his. I never said no. I never turned my back on my brother and look where it got me.

You'd thought that you were showing your brother how much you loved him by bailing him out as many times as you did, but now you felt stupid and used. You now saw that your brother didn't care about you, the only thing he cared about was how willing you were to give him money and support him for nothing in return.

You huddle further into a ball in the corner of the room, your back pressed against the frozen wall trying to reach out for some kind of plant energy, but there isn't anything. There wasn't a single seed, vegetable, or piece of plant in the freezer or anywhere nearby and it made all of this worse. It made you feel unsettled being away from them and you're reminded of the cruise Annie and you spent together where you were isolated from land in the middle of the ocean and couldn't leave the cabin.

You couldn’t even feel the sickness of the marijuana plants anymore. That was the only welcome part of all of this, that you couldn't feel them anymore, not when it made you dizzy to be that close to them.

Then again, I'll take what I can get. If I get out of this I'm going to start carrying seeds in my pockets everywhere.

You press your lips together, feeling the chapped flesh that was dry and flaking flushed red. Your cheeks and the skin of your face were the same way. You felt tired and you knew it was your body telling you to shut down, slowing your heart rate to save your life, but you fought it.

At first you'd tried to keep moving around the cell, rubbing your left arm up and down your right to keep warm the best you could, while avoiding the large pieces of meat hanging from the hooks above, and distracting yourself with how bad it smelled instead of the cold. But you gave up walking around and decided to conserve as little heat you had left by crouching down and shivering in the corner. Your could feel your mind going a little bit cloudy, as if you couldn't focus on anything. You hadn't slept and you weren't sure if that was why you were confused or if it was your body beginning to shut down.

It scared you to think that if you fell asleep, you wouldn’t wake up again.

Of all the things that Darren had done this was the biggest betrayal, that much was obvious. Telling Elijah that you were a supe who could control plants was one thing, but telling Elijah that you don't do well in the cold was unforgivable, especially because Darren knew how dangerous it was for you to be in cold for a prolonged time.

I wonder if he ever cared for me, or if this has all just been a game to him from the beginning since our parents died.

You had thought that you were doing what your parents would have wanted you to do in supporting your brother, thought that you were showing him the love they would have given him, but now you wished that you'd turned your back on him years ago.

You move slightly, but wince with the pain that comes streaking down your right arm. It was a bad break and you knew that it probably needed to be set, because it had swollen up beneath your sleeve and was now an ugly purple color in certain places. You couldn't straighten it at all without screaming so now you kept it contracted and against your chest. You would have made a make-shift sling for it, if you didn’t want to keep as much skin covered from the cold.

Maybe the cold is helping it.

You think to yourself gently probing along your right sleeve, but wince when you get to your forearm and lean your head back against the wall while gritting your teeth together to keep from screaming. You had left your hair down as a way of protecting your ears and the skin of your neck, but now the strands were dry and brittle. You worried that they would snap off at any second.

Fuck, Ben where are you?

The thought was surprising. You hadn’t meant to think of him again, hadn’t meant for your mind to drift to him, but it did. You’d be lying if you didn’t imagine Ben barging in and saving your life. When you imagined your team doing a big rescue, Ben was always leading it with Annie close behind him.

You would kill for a hug from him right now, he was always so inhumanly warm and it was such a comfort. The memory of him laying on top of you comes back and you imagine it, feeling the weight of his body, feeling the warmth that curled through him and into you, but then you remember what you yelled at him.

Are those going to be the last things I say to him? All those terrible things about his team and his son?

You frown at the thought. You didn’t want it to be. Now you were more upset that you hadn't listened to him about Darren, that you hadn't seen the things that Ben had. If he were here you might even let him say "I told you so."

Maybe, and only once.

You wondered if this was how Ben felt when he was trapped in Russia for forty years, if every day he waited for someone to come get him who never would. If every day he remained hopeful that Countess would break down the door and save him. It was cruel of her to leave him there with that hope and you could never imagine doing that to him. You could imagine how alone he must have felt, how small and helpless he did, and how much it probably broke him when he figured out that she wasn’t coming for him.

He's not going to come save me. You think to yourself remembering what he yelled to Darren before he slammed the bathroom door. He doesn’t care about me. Everyone else will come, but he won't.

The thought made it feel like you were going to cry. Then again you kept having that feeling come surging up, but it never brought any tears. The only way you hadn't dehydrated was that you kept having to break some of the ice off the wall and sucked on it, trying not to ignore how much colder it made you.

But if he didn't care, then why did Ben try to warn me about Darren?

It's not the first time you’d thought that. It was the truth. You didn’t understand why Ben was acting like he cared and yet he said those things to your brother, why Ben shouted things just as bad at you that you'd shouted at him.

He called me stupid. He insulted me. He's just always so damn stubborn and rude and annoying and-

You sigh and press your head into your knees. It doesn’t matter now. Nothing does.

The door handle jingles as if someone is trying to open it and the lights of the freezer flare to life, temporarily blinding you. You blink to clear your vision, squinting at the two large men dressed all in black who enter. One of which you identify as Joe, the man who had been outside at the gate, the other you have no idea who he is, but suspect that he's probably another part of Elijah's security team.

Standing seems like too much effort, so all you do is glare at them from your seated position.

"Come here often?" You cough out a laugh, your voice more of a rasp.

Neither of them laugh.

Annie would have laughed. Maybe Ben.

Joe grabs you by your left arm and hauls you up off of the ground, the motion of your body bending feeling like each joint is creaking and cracking, breaking through ice as they move.

He practically drags you from the room and you don't fight him. If anything you understand that you’re going to need to conserve your strength for wherever it is that you're going.

Your legs don't really work as he hauls you down the hallway, your feet stumble and try to catch against the solid ground, but not quite correctly.

You can feel your skin flaking away under your blouse where Joe is holding you by the arm, the other man following silently behind with his hand in his jacket as if prepared to pull out a gun. You figure that Elijah sent two men as a precaution if you had found some kind of plant in the freezer.

Maybe I should be flattered that he's not underestimating me. You frown. Yeah, no not gonna do that, the asshole locked me in a freezer.

The warm air in the hallway is a welcome change from the freezer, but it almost hurts for your body to be abruptly put in a place so different than the place you'd been inhabiting for who knows how long.

Joe shoves your body forward into a door in front of you and as you move towards it, the door opens and you fall onto the floor directly onto your bad arm.

This time you do scream when the white hot stab of pain shoots through your right arm as it makes contact with the floor. And Joe laughs.

"For a supe you're pretty wimpy." He chortles to himself, yanking you up from the ground again by your left arm. "Then again what a waste of a power, making the flowers grow."

Your teeth grind down. "Keep talking and I'll shove some of those pretty flowers up where the sun don't shine."

"I don't think you're in the position to make threats." Joe smirks. He shoves you deeper into the room and your body stumbles back, but you catch yourself on a plush highbacked navy armchair.

"Oh really? How do you know this hasn't been my plan all along? To get you and tweedle dum over there alone." You clear your throat glancing around the room for something you can use as a weapon.

The room is smaller than the office was, more intimate. With two navy high backed arm chairs, a leather couch that looks more decorative than comfortable and a fireplace where a fire roars, sending a wave of heat through the back of your shirt.

You scramble forward to try and melt your frozen fingertips, but keep the two men in your line of sight.

"I'd be nicer if I were you sweets. When the boss is done with you and he gives you to me, maybe I'll be a little gentler than he is." Joe's eyes trace down your body, making revulsion rise in the back of your throat like bile.

You were already feeling a little better, but you still couldn’t use your right arm and there were no plants that you could draw from. The good news was that these two men weren't supes, which meant that you might be able to take them with just your strength, but your arm was the problem.

"Joe." Elijah sighs as he enters the room behind the two men. "Are you being rude to our guest?"

"Just telling her how it is boss."

"Hmm." Elijah looks you up an down with a sad smile. "You look tired honey. You didn't find your vacation relaxing?"

"Oh it was paradise darling." You seethe, standing up from the floor. You refuse to back down from him.

If he's gonna do something he might as well do it. I'm sick of this tough guy mafia bullshit.

You could sense what was coming, it thrummed through your veins, and sent electrical impulses over every synapse of your body as you prepared for the coming fight. The fog was still hovering in your mind, but the adrenaline beat it back with a stick.

"Usually the cooler makes people more docile. I see it's made you more heated." He looks pleased, and makes a motion with his hand to Joe and the other man, who leave as soon as they see it. "Good. It’s always more fun that way anyway."

The energy in the room shifts for a moment as Elijah approaches you before he runs his large hand over the back of the high backed chair drawing your eye to the thick steel ring on his right fourth finger. It catches in the light of the fire, but you longer feel the warmth of the blaze. It’s worse now that it's the two of you alone, not to mention with Elijah being a supe and no plant in sight, your odds of getting out of this went from 50/50 to 40/60.

Fuck.

You fight the shudder that threatens to shake through you when you see the glint in Elijah's eye, hoping and praying that you have enough energy to take him down. Butcher had made you spar with him every chance you got so it wasn't that you weren't trained, it was that you could feel what little energy you had left draining from your body.

But that didn't mean you weren't going to back down.

"I'd be happy to show you just how wonderful it is to be locked in a freezer with no light. Just say the word." You take another step back eyes searching the room for something to use as a weapon.

"Tempting." His head tilts to the side. "But I can think of more fun things the two of us could do."

"Chess?" You gesture to the board on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"You could call it that." His smile turns more into a smirk.

Elijah flashes forward so fast your didn't see him move, knocking you backward onto the uncomfortable couch. One of his hands is fastened to your throat, the other pins your good arm above you head as his entire weight knocks the wind out of you. Nothing about his weight is comforting or is anything like how Ben laid on you the other night. It's oppressive and heavy, and the thick cloud of his cologne stings your nostrils as you gasp for breath. Everything in your body screams WRONG as you feel his hand squeeze down on your throat so tight you’re sure that it's leaving a mark.

His lips bite against yours, teeth cutting through the thinly chapped and flaky skin. You scream into his mouth and bite down hard until you taste blood wiggling beneath his weight. Elijah roars, the sound of his crescendo vibrating through your body and he backhands you so savagely you see stars.

"You'll pay for that." His eyes are wide and dark like two soulless pits that wish to drag you under and his teeth are bared in a snarl more animal than human. It reminds you of a rabid dog that rips and tears in a savage rage.

Your eyes drop to his mouth.

Is that what I think it is?

The pull is there, small, just barely a throb, but it's there, because between Elijah's two front teeth is your salvation.

"You really should floss more." You spit into his face, feeling your eyes shift to green focusing on the poppy seed caught beneath his gums. You assume he ate a bagel earlier and forgot all about it, but you don't give yourself time to speculate on exactly why it's there, only that it's your chance.

"What are you-"

Elijah doesn't finish his sentence, instead he gags as the stalks and roots begin to pour from his mouth. Poppies bloom from the outstretched stems that hang daintily past his full lips. He coughs and stumbles back from you, blood dripping around the flowers, as the roots begin to thread themselves into the soft skin on the inside of his mouth and twist and tangle down his throat.

Elijah's screams are muffled into the buds and leaves that sprout from his open mouth, eyes wide and staring at you with a mixture of horror and pure hatred. The vessels in his face burst until the blood flows from his eyes and skin freely and the roots breach through bone, vein, and flesh as if searching for earth outside of his body. The plants suck every nutrient they can from what you've given them, breaking Elijah's body down into what they can and cannot use.

The flowers do not hear his screams, the petals do not show remorse and the gentle bend of each bud before it blooms is not sinister, but beneath your hands they are deadly.

Turning someone into a tree you'd never done, sure you'd threatened it, but you’d never done it. You'd locked Newton your ex-boyfriend into a tree years ago, but that wasn't a transformation or a death, that involved the tree cocooning him inside, but it was nothing like this. You stand from the couch watching Elijah writhe in pain and confusion, trying to stop the plants that continue to feast on him.

His hands grasp at his face, ripping away the flowers that sprout from his lips, but he tears away pieces of flesh loosened by the roots away from his skull until chunks of muscle and tissue are mushed into the rug at his feet. There's a terrible snapping sound as the roots continue to expand outward and the flowers stems and stalks continue to unfurl beneath his skin, shattering through bone. Elijah's hands scramble down his chest, tearing away his shirt, the scream in his lungs lost to the crimson blooms that block air from coming in to his chest. He claws at his skin, falling to his knees, the inky black of the tattoos that cover his chest vanishing beneath the roots and stalks the peel away from his flesh and burst from his ribcage, the poppies the final bouquet laid on the casket.

And as you stand there, your un-ruined arm outstretched towards him, feeling the healing ebb and flow of energy from the poppies strengthening you momentarily, you have no remorse. Elijah Black is the first man you've ever essentially killed outright with your powers and yet you feel nothing. The men on the street the night that Ben saved you would have done the same thing to you, you'd spared their lives, but this time you didn't spare his.

He makes one more attempt to scream, the blood from his chest spurting upwards in an arch and splashing against your body, but then he falls silent. The poppies spreading along the plush rug at your feet covering his body, burying it beneath their beautiful petals, smiling at you.

He deserved this.

The little voice at the back of your mind whispers and the feeling of him on top of you comes roaring back, sending revulsion through your body. You didn’t want to think about what almost happened, what would have happened if he hadn't eaten the bagel.

You stoop down to pick one of the flowers before you lay it against your right wrist and manipulate the vines and roots to form a make-shift sling for your broken arm. The exhaustion was back, tugging at your body, but this time you ignore it, knowing that you had a long way to go before you earned your freedom.

At least now my arm is stabilized. You think to yourself. How the hell am I going to get out of here?

"Hey boss are you done yet-" Joe says as he enters the room, but he stops mid-sentence. His eyes trace your body again, but not in the lewd way he'd done earlier, instead you see horror flash in his gaze when he sees the blood flecked across your cheeks and the bits of flesh and muscle that sit in clumps, smashed into the plush rug at your feet.

You feel your eyes shift to green once more, the poppies that cover Elijah's body begin to stir as if an unnatural wind has begun to wisp into the room. "You should have been more worried about getting on my good side Joe, because the flowers might be pretty, but you won't enjoy them as much as they'll enjoy you."

He tries to draw his gun, but it's too late. They'll be nothing left of him or anyone who stands in your way.

Soldier Boy POV

Blood stained Ben's ungloved hands, soaked into his supe suit, and splashed across his cheeks, but he didn’t care. He would bathe in it every day until he found you if that's what it took.

He didn't understand why he felt this way, felt unsure and antsy at the thought of you being trapped somewhere, but he did, and it was almost too much to bear. With each passing hour on the long drive from Boston to New York, Ben could feel himself slipping further and further into a feeling that he couldn't place, a feeling that he'd never felt before in his entire life. His hands had curled into fists where they rested on his thighs with each mile that the car inched closer to you and to whoever the fuck had hurt you. He hadn’t spoken since he threatened Butcher at the motel, well, except for the occasional "Can you drive any fucking faster?" he shouted at Butcher every few minutes.

Even Annie seemed unnaturally quiet where she sat beside Ben in the backseat, her hand clasped tightly in Hughie's. She had been upset since she figured out what Darren had done and Hughie was trying to comfort her. Hughie had his arm wrapped around her shoulders and was whispering gentle things into her ear while she leaned into his chest and hugged him.

It annoyed Ben.

In the past Ben would have mocked a man for doing that, would have made an offhand comment about the man being pussy whipped, but as Ben sat there and listened to Hughie try his best to bring Annie some peace, Ben couldn’t help but remember the night you had a nightmare.

The scream you'd let loose was what jolted him into consciousness. He'd never heard you scream like that before. In that moment he hadn't cared about what you'd said about him not going in your bedroom, all he knew was that he had to be in there and he had to make sure you were okay. When he'd found you sitting on your bed crying and gasping for breath he hadn't wanted to leave you, for the first time in his life Ben had wanted to do exactly what Hughie was doing for Annie. Ben didn't know the first thing about how to do that, but he'd wanted to sit there with you until you calmed down.

He'd never done that for anyone before. Countess had been distressed once because she'd lost an earring her mother gave her, but Ben had just told her to "get the fuck over it."

You were different and as much as Ben hated to admit it to himself, he was starting to realize that as well. He just didn't know why.

When Butcher finally crashed his car through the front gate that surrounded the warehouse Ben jumped from it while it was still in motion, leaving the rest of them to squawk and squabble over a plan like a bunch of fucking chickens.

Ben had a plan, save you. He didn't need to hear Butcher come up with a plan of action when Ben was a man of action.

"Where is she?" Ben snarls to the man he's pinned to the wall of the cool concrete hallway, his voice shaking the foundations of the building.

The dim lightbulbs that line the hallway flicker and flash a yellowed light that curves cruelly over the sharp edges of Ben's face, but he does not back down from the man he has pushed against the wall. The bodies of the other men who stood in Ben's way lay in a trail of blood and bone behind, and the man in his arms would join the fray for wasting his time.

"Go to hell." The man spits in Ben's face.

"You'll go first." Ben says in a murderous growl as he pulls apart the body easily as if the man is made of tissue paper, the sound of the man's screams no more than a memory as they ring down the desolate hallways.

Ben trudges on through the dim light with the sticky smell of blood following behind him. He was hoping that he wasn't too late. Sometimes he forgot how fragile other people were, how easy it was for an accident to occur and for someone like you to get hurt or killed, but Ben didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to consider that possibility.

It's only been 4 days. Ben's jaw clenches together. It would have been no days if she had just fucking listened to me!

Ben frowns. Or it would have been no days if I had followed her.

Ben didn't know why he felt guilty, just that he didn't like it. A part of him kept flashing back to the years he spent in Russia, when he hoped that Countess would come get him, when he thought she loved him as much as he loved her, and when in reality it was her that put him there.

After that happened Ben had decided that it was stupid and unmanly to care about anyone, to love anyone, because it only fucked everything up. But Ben didn't want you to go through what he had. You were so different than he was, softer, kind, and way too trusting. Sometimes he didn’t like that you were doing this kind of work. It didn’t seem like you. When he saw you in the plant shop working it was different, you seemed to be in you element.

But he didn't want you to think that no one was coming to save you, because he was and like hell he was going to let anyone stand in his way.

This is taking too long.

The hallways were twisting and turning and Ben hadn’t seen another soul in at least two minutes. He listens with his hearing hoping to hear you talking or someone talking about you, but he doesn’t all he hears is a heart beat. It's faint, but it's there. The room where it comes from is torn to bits, chairs are laying on their sides stuffing falling out onto the blood stained carpet and covered in a field of red poppies, the smell of blood is thick in the air, and the bodies that lay on the ground are cleaved open with the plants tangling in the organs within, spilling out onto the floor.

Truthfully, Ben hadn't thought that your powers could look like this. Sure, you would make an offhand comment about turning him into a tree or shoving a watermelon up his ass, but he didn’t actually think that you would ever do it. Again, Ben didn’t see this side of you very often. He did piss you off and annoy you, but Ben didn’t actually think you’d ever try to attack him.

Not to mention that Ben thought that being able to make flowers grow seemed like a woman's power, and truthfully he liked watching you walk to work and place your hand on a bouquet or a small cluster of flowering plants to make them perk up, or watch you move around the apartment and see how the plants seemed to turn towards you, but this was surprising. He didn’t think that you could do something like that to someone's body and he wasn't disgusted, in fact he was a little impressed.

Ben raises his gaze from the bodies to see you.

You're on the ground, curled into a ball to protect your right arm that's also covered in poppies, but Ben can tell that it's broken, by how swollen it is.

Your breath is coming in shallow gasps and you heart beats faintly. You're covered in so much blood that Ben is worried that he's too late.

"Petals?" Ben drops to his knees beside where you lay, gingerly picking you up off the ground so that your left arm is resting against his chest. "Petals?" Ben says again, his heart seizing in his chest, throat thick. His hand gently pushes back the hair that sticks to your bloodied cheeks as he checks you over for wounds. Ben feels his jaw tighten when he see the bruising handprint around your throat, the blaze of heat from his anger coming back when he realized that someone had touched you.

"Come on Petals wake up." Ben murmurs, as he brushes your hair back. The strands are dry and brittle against his fingertips. "Come on sweetheart, say something annoying."

"Ben?" He hears you murmur, it’s more of a shallow breath than his name, but it’s something.

Ben exhales the breath he didn’t know that he was holding. "Yeah it's me."

"You came." You whisper and turn your head into his chest, weakly pressing your fingertips over his heart the motion making something stutter inside of him.

Your skin is flushed, veins shimmering beneath, body colder than Ben has ever felt it and he can see the flecks of skin that flake from your lips. Ben’s gaze falls on the mark over your right cheekbone that has already begun to bruise and drop back down to the handprint around your throat. Ben feels the tendrils of his rage beginning to spill over into the cavity in his chest screaming for blood. Ben's eyes flick to the bodies in the room momentarily hoping that they suffered for what they did to you and regrets not getting here sooner to make them suffer for touching you.

"Of course I came Petals." Ben replies his rough hand gently tracing along your cheek. "Did you think I was gonna leave you behind?"

"Thought you were mad." You breathe not opening your eyes. "I'm sorry for-" Your voice breaks as if it’s too much effort to finish the sentence, but he understands what you're about to say.

The feeling in Ben’s chest is not unfamiliar. It was the one he’d felt when he was in Russia every day, the loneliness that drove him mad.

Ben wonders if that's all you’d thought of the past four days. If you really believed that he wasn't going to come save you because you'd yelled at him and said what you did.

What I said wasn't better.

He remembered shouting at Darren that he didn’t care and he felt a twinge deep down when he realized that you must have been thinking that he was going to leave you in all this shit because of it.

"You can make it up to me later sweetheart." Ben stands with you close to his chest, but accidentally jostles your broken arm.

You whimper in pain and Ben freezes, adjusting his left arm under your knees and his right around your waist to secure you to his chest. "Shh it’s okay. I'm going to get you out of here." He reassures and takes a moment to press a kiss to the top of your head at your hairline where your head is turned into him. Ben clenches his jaw together and swallows. He hadn't meant to do that and didn't know why he did, just that he didn’t have the ability to touch your face with his hand and it seemed like the next best thing.

His mind flashes back to Hughie in the car with Annie, the things that Hughie said to her the way Hughie held her close and kissed her head to make sure she knew he was there.

"Okay." You breathe, cuddling further into his chest and pressing your face into his collar bone with a soft sigh as if you don’t know what he did.

Ben was glad, because the last thing he wanted was for you to accuse him of coping a feel when you weren't up to snuff.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Reader POV

A rhythmic beeping noise lulls you from sleep as you sigh softly, but you don't open your eyes. It feels like you’re swimming through tar, as if your limbs are being bound to the soft bed beneath you with cement. Everything hurts and yet you're here and you're alive.

Well, I think I’m alive.

You blink your eyes open, squinting in the oppressive unbroken sunlight that bathes the entire room in a brilliant glow from the un-curtained windows to the left of the bed you're laying in. The room is white, a blank slate, and unfamiliar. There’s teal couch underneath the large left window and a small cabinet pressed into the corner between the couch and the opposite wall, a tv mounted on the wall across from the bed and a large pale blue curtain hanging to the right of your bed behind a collection of monitors that beep and squabble with one another. The room would be unremarkable if not for the plants.

There are buckets of monstera that unfurl leaves as big as your face jammed into the corners of the room and tangles of jasmine hanging from the top of the cabinet. Cacti line the windowsill absorbing the healing light from the sun, while a cart of honeysuckle, lavender, rose, and more flowering plants than you can name sits at the end of your hospital bed. The smell of gardenia is strong, floating lightly through the air to kiss you on the tip of your nose and you look to your left at the small bedside table to notice the gardenia plant you had on your bedside table back at you apartment blossoming in the warmth of the room.

Bouquets of flowers are shoved onto all other possible surfaces, some big some small, but all of them colorful and beautiful to look at. The healing energy of the plants is everywhere, absorbing into your body and strengthening you, the sweet smells of the flowers masking the stale clean smell of the hospital, and making you feel at home for the first time since you left your apartment with Darren.

Your eyes shift to the teal couch under the window and see that it's not empty, Ben is laying there on his back, his arms crossed over his dark t-shirt, sound asleep. His soft snores a comfort over the sounds of the beeping monitors so close to your bed.

The memories of what happened however long ago come back muffled and slurred through the haze of the drugs the doctors have given you, but you remember the final ones you had before you fell into the abyss.

You remember feeling Ben pick you up and hold you close to him, begging you to answer him, while the warmth of his body was like a soothing soak in a hot bath after a cold day. All you could do was cling to him and try to get as close as you could to absorb some of the heat. You didn’t believe that he would come for you and he did.

Tears glaze your eyes while you watch him sleep, all the sharp edges of his face smoothed in his slumber, all the frown lines you knew all too well no longer there while he slept. He looked different like this, peaceful.

You could feel your heart warming to think that Ben actually did care about you and that was why he came to get you.

"You’re awake." A familiar voice says.

Diana Moore, your grandmother, looks cheerfully at you from the teal rocking chair to the right of the bed, working on a purple knit blanket in her lap.

"Gran?" You clear your throat as you adjust yourself to sit up. "What are you doing here?"

She stands and nears the bed, tucking the granny square blanket she must have covered you with, further under you as she does. "Annie called and said you were hurt in some sort of accident." Your grandmother frowns. "And when I got here she told me what happened."

"Everything?" You say with a grimace.

"Most of it." Her frown deepens around the edges of her mouth. "But it was easy to fill in when she mentioned Darren."

Your grandmother knew everything about your life, there were no secrets between the two of you, and as much as she discouraged you working with Butcher, she pretended that she didn't care. Despite you being a supe, she always seemed to want to keep you away from the hero lifestyle. That was always odd to you, especially when you saw how proud Annie’s mother was of her abilities. Your grandmother although supportive of your abilities, never wanted you to become a hero. Whenever you’d ask her why she’d always say that “the grass looks greener on the other side.” It wasn’t an answer, but you never pushed her for one.

"I'm-"

"What your brother did is not your fault, and if the next words out of your mouth are an apology I will pack up everything you own and make you move back home." She raises an eyebrow.

It was an empty threat, you loved being in Illinois with her and you both knew it, but you let it slide.

Your grandmother looks the same way she did as when you first went to live with her when you were twelve. Not to mention for someone who was just over eighty years old, she looked pretty good. Whenever someone mentioned that to her she’d only say that “time had been good to her.”

Her gray hair is wavy and pinned back away from her face in an elegant twist that makes her look classic and poised. Her clothes are stylish, clean blue-jeans with a floral blouse that is covered by a thin cream colored sweater she knitted herself and a pair of black flats.

She was the reason you started knitting and crocheting. The love she instilled into each handmade item she delivered to her neighbors, made you love your grandmother's gentle spirit all the more. She'd always been like that, a shoulder to cry on, the person who always baked and filled the house with warmth, the person who took care of her neighbors when they were ill and made sure that they were well fed, and all the people back home loved her almost as much as you did.

She became the mother you’d lost and you didn’t realize how much you’d missed her until this exact moment.

Tears burn against your eyes as the events of the past few days surge up in a lump at the back of your throat. The memories of Elijah said and did, the freezer, the deaths, and the betrayal from your brother all too much to bear.

"Oh sweetie." Your grandmother whispers gently sitting on the edge of the bed and lets you hug her. You cry into her shoulder, holding her tight, the smell of her perfume familiar. "It's okay." She rubs your back. "Let it all out."

You do. It's the hardest you'd cried in weeks, but she sits there with you and continues to hold you close to her the way she'd done since you were twelve.

"Better?" She cups your cheek, her blue eyes tracing your face. They were the same as your father's and it made you miss him more.

"Yeah." You sniffle.

"Good. I brought you some fudge."

"What?"

"And some meat-pies and I stopped by your apartment and put a few frozen lassagna's in there for later. You look thin. Have you been eating?"

"Yes I have." You roll your eyes, but smile, because even when you thought you were all grown up she was trying to take care of you.

"Hmm." She presses her lips into a tight line looking you up and down.

"Fine, sometimes I skip a meal." You admit.

"You shouldn't. Especially with how often you use your powers." She squeezes your left hand because your right one was now in a bright green colored cast.

You wonder if they chose that color randomly or if Annie told them to pick that.

"I know Gran. Where's Annie?" You ask. It kind of hurt that she wasn't here when you woke up, but you couldn't fight the happy feeling knowing that Ben was here. That one also hurt a little bit, especially when it filled you with the hope that Ben wanted to have a relationship when you knew he didn't.

"She just went to get some dinner with Hughie. He's a nice boy, good manners. A lot like your boyfriend." She gestures over to the couch where Ben is snoring.

Ben having good manners? She's kidding right?

"He's not my boyfriend-"

"No?" Your grandmother gives you a knowing look. "He sure seems like it."

"He's my roommate. And well-" You bite the inside of your cheek feeling your cheeks flush bright red in embarrassment. "I think we're friends."

I mean he carried me out of the warehouse that's gotta be a friend thing right?

"He hasn’t left that couch since I got here. Not to mention he keeps harassing the doctor whenever he comes in, keeps asking him when you're going to wake up. Made one of the nurses cry-“

"He what?"

"You didn't tell me you knew Soldier Boy."

You pause looking up at your grandmother. "What?"

"He's Soldier Boy." She says it matter of fact.

"How did you-"

"He looks just like him." Your grandmother examines Ben's sleeping face again. "Plus I met him a few times before, but that was a long time ago."

Your mouth drops open. "You met Soldier Boy. When?"

"Story for another time dear."

"Oh please tell me that you didn’t go out with him." Sometimes you forgot how old Ben was and the thought that he and your grandmother had a thing made you feel nauseous.

I swear if Ben and my grandmother fucked or made out I am going to go crazy and I'm taking him down with me.

"No of course not." Her cheeks flush. "I was dating your grandfather when we met."

"Oh."

I guess that's a little better, but still weird.

"But he was certainly trying his best." She snorts.

"Please no more." You cringe back from her trying not to imagine Ben hitting on your grandmother.

"I'm just teasing sweetie." She kisses you on the forehead with a smile. "Not really."

"Oh my sweet goodness, please do not tell me anything else." You groan blocking out the mental images of Ben with your grandmother.

She sits back down in her chair with her knitting smiling to herself, the subtle scrape of the needles together reminded you of the quiet nights the two of you spent back home sitting in the living room and watching TV.

Guess I won't be able to crochet for a while with this thing. You frown at the cast on your right arm more disappointed at the prospect of not being able to crochet than what had happened to you.

"He was with Crimson Countess anyway." Your grandmother rolls her eyes when she says her name.

"Wait a minute, you knew Ben when he was with Countess?"

How in the fuck did I not know this? Why didn’t she tell me that she knew famous supes? Why did she know them?

She nods not looking up from the purple mass in her lap. "She was a real piece of work, very callous, and uncaring whenever the cameras weren't flashing." You watch her eyes slide to where Ben is laying. "I always hated the way she seemed to treat him. She was manipulative, very good at getting whatever she wanted. She was possessive when it came to Ben, fiercely jealous of anyone who got near him. Weird given the relationship they had" The thought makes her frown and for a moment you see something slide across your grandmother's face that was unlike the woman who'd raised you.

"But why were you around them in the first place?" You ask her.

Your grandmother had never said that she was around supes, never said that she was a part of any of that. All you knew was that she met your grandfather who was a retired veteran turned doctor and settled down in Illinois so he could open a private practice, but to know that she knew Ben was making your head spin.

"Another time. You need rest."

"But-"

"Please sweetie. I don't want to talk about the past right now. Not when you need to sleep."

“But-“

She looks up at you with the same matronly look she always had when she told you to go to bed and you were being unruly.

“Okay.”

The doctor walks into the room, his smile brightening when he notices that you're awake. "Hello, I'm Dr. Martinez. How are you feeling today?"

"Good I guess." Your eyes were still focused on your grandmother who has begun to knit innocently as if the last few things that she'd mentioned hadn't happened.

"Well it’s reassuring that you're awake." His eyes skate to where Ben is sleeping and you see just a glimmer of fear behind them. "We were all eagerly hoping that you would wake up soon-"

Did he threaten the doctor with bodily harm? Because that feels very Ben-like.

"How long have I been asleep?" You ask taking a sip from the cup of ice water on your tray.

"Three days."

"Three what-" You shriek, spewing water all over the bed.

Ben jolts upwards from sleep to his feet, looking around the room with narrowed eyes like he believes that someone is in the room about to attack you.

"Ben it's okay." You say with a cough to clear the water that came out your nose. Ben's gaze flicks to where you're laying in the bed.

You weren't prepared to see the tension leave his shoulders and to see relief flash through his eyes, before they harden once more to his usual expression.

Was he worried about me? I mean my grandmother said that he hasn't left the couch and that he's been harassing the doctors…

"Yes." Dr. Martinez looks at where Ben is now standing over your bed, but Ben hasn't looked away from you. In fact you see his eyes shift over your face, down to your throat, then to the cast on your right arm and see his frown grow by the minute.

"Sorry I wasn't ready for that." You clear your throat with a forced smile.

"It's alright. But the good news is you're awake-"

"No shit sherlock." Ben snarks. "Did your big fancy degree tell you that?"

“Sir-“ Dr. Martinez starts, but Ben interrupts him.

“Because-“ Ben begins to say something else but you reach out and touch his arm with your left hand before you can stop yourself. His gaze focuses back on you.

“Ben, it’s okay. I’m okay. Let him talk.” You squeeze his warm forearm to reassure him.

His green eyes flick back to your face, something flashing through his eyes that looks very different than the man you usually saw. He doesn't apologize, but he nods his head in the direction of the doctor to let him know that he could continue. Ben also doesn't move your hand from his forearm, in fact, he steps a little closer to you.

You miss the smile your grandmother hides behind her hand when she sees Ben’s reaction.

"As I said you're awake and it looks like you're doing much better now that we've given you fluids. You were dehydrated when you came in and had a touch of hyperthermia which is unusual given how warm it's been lately." Dr. Martinez gestures to the sunny day outside. "Your right arm is broken, but we set it and it should be about 6 weeks until you're fully healed. As for the black eye and the-" The doctor clears his throat, eyes looking to Ben for a moment. "Marks around your neck, those should be gone within a few weeks or so."

Does he think Ben did this to me?

The thought makes you angry. As mad as Ben had gotten at you in the past, you didn’t believe that he would ever hurt you. Sure he'd hurt you the first day you'd met, but you weren't afraid of him, you couldn’t be. Even when his temper flared you didn't fear that he would hurt you. Yeah he had a bad temper, but Ben always seemed to stomp away when you pissed him off, not attack you.

"And how long do I have to stay here?"

"Well, now that you're awake I want to keep you one more night for observation and do blood work again, but I'm not worried about sending you home." Dr. Martinez looks at Ben again before he looks at you. "Unless you want to stay longer?"

"What the fuck are you trying to say doc?" Ben growls, realizing exactly what the doctor is insinuating.

Your hand skates down Ben’s arm and entwines with his fingertips. Ben looks at it surprised. “I'd like to go home with Ben as soon as possible." You say it to the doctor with a frown, not liking what the doctor is trying to say, but then you realize exactly how it sounds.

It wasn't a lie, you wanted to go home with Ben, wanted to go back to your everyday life and forget that all of this happened. You didn't mean to hold his hand, but it just seemed like the only way to get your point across.

"Alrighty then. I'll just have the nurse come in and take a little more blood." The doctor replies and backs quickly out of the room, casting one more look at Ben.

The three of you sit there for a moment in the silence that follows, Ben's eyes still on you, your hand still holding on to his. You quickly let go.

“I'm going to go down to the cafeteria before it closes. Do you want anything Ben?"

"No thanks Di. I'm good." He replies rubbing the back of his neck as if he's unsure what comes next.

"Di?" You turn to look at your grandmother with a frown.

"Do you want something sweetie?" She doesn’t look phased at Ben's use of the nickname.

"No I'm fine Di." You emphasize the nickname, but she doesn’t react.

"I'll bring you back some tea. That always seems to help you relax." She winks and places the mass of purple yarn onto the chair before she leaves the room with an elegant flourish.

The silence grows.

"Please tell me that you didn't fuck my grandmother. Because that wasn't on my bingo card this year and I really don’t want to have nightmares about the two of you."

Ben snorts. "Jealous Petals?"

"Oh fuck, just get out of here." You cover your eyes with your hand. "I can't even look at you right now. You're such a slut Gramps."

Ben only laughs at you and sits down on the side of your bed. His fingers gently pull your hand away from your face so he can look at you again.

"I didn't fuck your grandmother. We knew each other forever ago." He's still holding on to your wrist, his thumb smoothing against the soft skin on the inside of you arm. "But I will say that she is just as beautiful now as she was then. Really aged like fine wine-“

"You're not making this better."

"You look a lot like her." Ben says quietly.

Did he just call me beautiful?

You sit there for another minute, eyes focused on where Ben is holding your wrist. “I’m really sorry for what I said about Homelander and your team. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You already apologized.”

“When?”

“When I found you.” His jaw tightens at the memory. “You apologized.”

“Oh.”

“Are you-“ He clears his throat, eyes raising from your wrist to look at you. “Are you feeling better?” You watch his eyes trace the bruises around your neck, the black eye, and the cast again.

And for a moment he almost looks guilty.

Why is he guilty?

“Yeah. All the plants are really helping. It always makes me feel better to be surrounded by so many.” You smile at him, but Ben doesn’t return it.

“Plant boy brought them by.” Ben grunts. “You probably should call him. He was fawning all over you like a fucking pussy, thought he was going to cry.”

You thought that was ironic given that your grandmother had just told you that Ben hadn’t left the couch since you were brought in, but you didn’t want to tease him about that. Not now anyway.

You look at the gardenia on the small bedside table, the one you know that’s from home. “Not that one.” You glance back at Ben.

“No. I told Annie to bring that one.” Ben says as if it’s difficult for him. “I figured if it was on your bedside table in your room it must be important.”

“It’s my favorite. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand with your good one. “Really Ben, thank you for everything.”

“Sure.”

Ben isn’t really holding your hand, your left is laying on its back cradled in his right where his thumb continues to rub along the thin skin of the inside as if he wants to trace along the veins.

“How long was I with Elijah?”

“Four days.” Ben grits his teeth together.

It was a surprise to hear how long you’d been there aloud, but a part of you knew in your heart how long it had been.

“That feels about right.”

“I should have come sooner.”‘Ben murmurs it more to himself than to you. “I shouldn’t have let you go-“

“You tried to stop me remember? I should have listened to you instead of insulting you. I just-“ The tears were coming back. “I wanted to believe Darren. He’s my brother I thought-“ Your voice breaks. “And then Elijah-“

The memories of everything that happened were coming back tenfold now, worse then they had when your grandmother was there. The monitors to the right of the bed are beeping frantically now as your heart rate begins to spike and you begin to sob.

“Fuck.” Ben says under his breath. “Look Petals it’s okay. It’s alright-“

“No it’s not. My brother sold me to Elijah because he had fucking poker debt and Elijah wanted me to fix all those fucked up plants and then he-“ Your can't finish the sentence. You pull your hand from Ben's grasp to rub at your eyes, trying to make the tears stop but they don't. Memories of Elijah holding you down against the couch come surging up followed by the anxiety ridden question "What if?"

Ben's entire body goes stiff. "What did he do?"

You level your gaze at your left hand where it lays in your lap not wanting to answer. Ben's hand comes to cup your chin raising your eyes back to his. His green eyes have hardened, a murderous fire burning behind them that makes you worry about anyone who would ever get in his way. You'd never seen him so mad before, not even at you when you pissed him off.

"What did he do?" Ben says again in a low growl.

"He broke my arm-" You swallow the sob. "And then he put me in a freezer for a few days and when he took me out he tried to-" The memory of his oppressive weight and expensive cologne fills your nose, followed by the feeling of his hand fastened around your throat.

"He touched you?" Ben spits.

"I stopped him." You say in a whisper.

"How?"

"He had a poppy seed in his teeth."

The look in Ben's eyes shifts to surprise. "Really?"

You nod with a sniffle as another round of fresh tears comes out of your eyes.

"I saw the aftermath of it." Ben sighs retracting his hand from your chin. "Didn't think you could do something like that."

"Me neither. Guess it was a "desperate times desperate measures" sort of situation." You swipe the back your hand across your eyes. "But I really do want to go home, forget any of this happened-" Your voice cracks a little.

Ben's hand comes down on your shoulder in an awkward patting motion. "It's okay, Petals."

It enough to make you cough out a laugh. "What are you doing?"

"I don't fucking know. I just-" He drops his hand from your shoulder looking angry. "I don't like it when you cry." Ben says it more to himself than to you, as if he's ashamed he admitted it.

The admission makes something flicker to life in the center of your chest, a pilot light to some furnace that you'd blown out a long time ago.

"And I don’t fucking know what to do when women cry! Because y'all are always so damn emotional and-" He continues looking frustrated.

When you pull him into a hug, Ben stops mid-sentence. It's difficult with one arm, but you try your best. It's the first one the two of you have ever shared, given how much Ben hated showing affection that made sense, but you wanted to hug him. He had saved your life and maybe you could be friends despite everything else.

And you wanted to hug you because even though it made Ben uncomfortable, he had tried to comfort you. You weren't sure why, all you knew was that it made you smile.

Ben doesn't move, he goes completely tense in your arms, not accustomed to this and unsure what to do next. A part of you thought it was kind of cute how awkward he was when it came to something like this, but another part felt bad for him. You liked hugging people and were accustomed to doing just that, but it hurt you to think that Ben hadn't had any experience with someone giving him a hug that wasn't attached to anything else.

"Thank you, Ben." You whisper, pressing your face into his t-shirt. The smell of his spicy cologne burns your nose in the best way, the feeling of his warmth taking away the residual chill you feel when you think of the memories from a few days ago.

This is better than I remember.

You think, remembering how it felt to wake up in his arms and feel how his body molded around yours as if he was made for you.

"You're welcome, Petals." He says tightly, the pleasant rumble of his words vibrating against your cheek. He's not hugging you back, but you didn't expect him to. Not when he was awkward when it came to things like this.

You pull back from him, wiping your eyes again with the back of your hand. The longer you sit there together, the longer the silence grows between the two of you, but it's not uncomfortable. It's filled with an energy that you can't describe, hovering in the space, alive and charged.

Ben slowly raises his hand to your face, brushing back a strand of your hair with a surprising gentleness, the roughness of his hand is a comfort and you weren't prepared for how his touch burns against your skin.

“Did you really think I’d leave you there?” Ben murmurs, his eyes are a light green in the sunlight, like the budding grass on a summer day.

“You were mad at me. I-“ You look down at your lap.

“So?" Ben raises your chin with his hand. "I said some shit too."

It wasn't an apology, but you were sure it was as close as he was going to get. What was weirding you out a bit was how often he was touching you and how gently. Not that you thought he would hurt you, just that he'd never tried to be this open to touch before.

“Yeah, but it’s different. You might have pissed me off but I would have come to get you anyway because I know how much what happened in Russia hurt you.” It was the truth. You wouldn't have let anyone stop you if you knew that Ben was trapped somewhere, even if the two of you had been in a fight. He was your friend, sort of anyway. And you took care of your friends.

Ben’s body tenses at the mention of Russia, the memories that flash through his eyes are not pleasant. “Then don’t you think I’d want to come get you if I understand how fucked up that is?”

You blink at him surprised. "I didn't think about that."

Ben smirks. "And I thought you knew everything Petals."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

"Never." His hand is still cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing just barely over your cheek.

Electricity charges through the air and you feel your lips begin to tingle. You want to kiss him so badly, to pull him close and allow yourself to finally fall into him. The memory of the two of you on the couch the other day resurfaces when he almost kissed you, when he looked so different than he usually did, when he looked at you differently in a way that you weren't sure what it meant, the same way he was looking at you right now. The gardenia plant on the bedside table explodes with fresh blooms and Ben glances over it with a chuckle. It was embarrassing that he knew your deepest darkest secret and it caused a flush to creep into your cheeks.

Ben smiles the same way he did the morning you were curled up against his chest on your couch. His thumb dips to brush along your bottom lip and you inhale in surprise. It seems to jar Ben back into reality.

"I'm going to go feed Bean." Ben drops his hand and stands from the bed, but he's still smiling at you the same way he was a few seconds ago. "I'll be back in an hour."

You try not to feel the loss of his skin against yours and try not to focus on how good it felt for him to touch you so tenderly.

"You don't have to come back." You begin to say, trying to make the flush fade. "It's only one more night and-"

"It's not that bad." Ben shrugs. "I mean my butt isn't as comfy on this couch as the one at home." He cracks another smile repeating what he said when you took him to IKEA, but then something flashes in his eyes. "Besides, the apartment's too quiet without your bitching. Rather be here and witness it first hand."

Is he trying to say that he misses me? No. There's no way that he'd ever admit that.

"Get out of here, you ass." You try to push him, but he catches your hand.

"Be careful Petals, you don’t want to break the only arm you have left."

"I'm gonna break my foot off in your ass if you don’t get out of here." You groan rolling your eyes.

"Didn't think you’d be into that, but I'd be willing to try whatever you want Petals. As long as I get you all to myself" Ben is still holding on to your hand. "Do you-" His smirk shifts into something softer and he swallows. "Want me to bring you anything from home?"

You imagine that his voice changes when he says the word "home." But you don't imagine the way it sticks in your chest when he does.

"No, I think I'm okay." You frown down at your cast mournfully. "I'm never going to be able to finish any of my crochet projects with this thing."

"Yes, because that's why most people are upset when they break an arm."

"I thought you'd know by now that I'm not like everyone else."

"Trust me I noticed." Ben chuckles with a smile that makes your heartbeat stutter.

"Don’t knock it til you try it Gramps. I thought you'd be old enough to appreciate the quality of handmade goods. Didn’t your generation still do that or whatever?"

Ben rolls his eyes, but then he squeezes your hand so quick you think that you imagined it. "I'll be back. Try not to give your grandmother a hard time while I'm gone."

"You think that me giving her a hard time will ruin your chances with her?" You snort.

"I already tried years ago." Ben shrugs. "Then again she might give me another chance. It's been a while"

"You couldn't handle me then Benjamin and you can't handle me now." Your grandmother says as she re-enters the room holding a steaming cup of tea for you and a cup for herself. "But hurry back. I want to beat you at poker one more time before I go back to Illinois."

"I let you win." Ben grouses.

"Whatever you say sweetie." She sits back down on the chair to resume knitting, but you catch a glimmer of her smile quirking the ends of her lips.

Ben only rolls his eyes and throws you one last look filled with an emotion that you can't place before he vanishes out the door. And you try not to think about how empty the room is when he's gone, how the hell he knows your grandmother, and why your heart was skipping like a kid frolicking in a field full of sunflowers.

A/N: I know Darren didn't get got in this chapter, but he is going to come back into play next chapter. But this one was definitely bloody... Kinda was horrified with the place my mind went when she was killing those men with those poppies, but I like to think that people really do underestimate what she can do because they think she "just makes the plants grow" when in reality it's more complicated and way more powerful than people think. And I know, a lot of more denial, but we are starting to see the walls beginning to crumble and the unraveling between the two of them as they both begin to come to terms with their feelings.

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love to hear what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series please let me know :)

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jaylver · 2 years ago

Text

WIN ONE WIN ME — L.HS

SYNOPSIS: who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.

PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!heeseung x afab!reader

GENRE: strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance

WARNING(S): profanities, violence (fight), suggestive content (no smut), heeseung is a retired fuckboy turned good + y/n is a party goer, drinking, partying, jake being a footballer aka a soccer player ( NOT american football )

WC: 14k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: aaaa it's finally here ! hope y'all enjoyed it and PLEASE let me know how it was, give me some feedbacks and thoughts, it's been A LONGG WHILE since i've been writing so i'm worried i'll be crusty. anyway, enjoy !

part 1 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist

“I'M SO NOT HAVING FUN ANYMORE,”

Friday nights were always preoccupied by hockey and hockey only. It has never changed ever since Yunjin, your best friend, gave you an introduction to the school’s ice hockey team. Being the massive sports fan you were, you obviously got hooked on watching their games live. But there were downsides to being a fan which includes witnessing the team losing.

You swore you were already in a foul mood that day, courtesy to your professor and shitty customers, you found yourself seeking solace in the hockey game, which turned sour almost instantly. Just your luck for the day, huh?

“It’s just the first period, Y/N,” Yunjin sighed, glancing up at the jumbotron, wincing a little at the scoreline. They were currently 3 goals down and Yunjin's reassurance didn't help at all.

“I suppose so,” you replied glumly.

The second period rolled by in a flash, but there wasn’t much of a positive outcome either. The team managed to score two goals, but the opponents out performed them and scored one more goal, continuing their lead.

You groaned loudly, along with many other disappointed students. 15 minutes of intermission ended rather quickly, bringing everyone back to reality.

“Oh come on, score already!” you shouted out in irritation, stirring other students to yell out in agreement as well.

The game was going slow and your patience was eventually growing thin. The clock was ticking, meaning the game was about to end soon with the team losing tragically. You shook your head in defeat, wrapping an arm around Yunjin’s shoulder and placing the other on your hip.

“For fuck’s sake, score already, idiots!” you yelled out.

Just when you did so, someone skated by, his head turned to look at you, meeting your eyes for only a brief second before disappearing into a sea of hockey players. You blinked. Did that just happen? You whipped your head to find Yunjin staring back at you, as if asking the same question.

“Did–”

“That–”

The two of you paused.

“Yeah,” you both said in unison, returning your attention back to the game.

As expected, the game unfortunately ended with a defeat for the home team. You and Yunjin decided to leave the arena immediately since it was already getting late, but you two also made sure to have a quick stop at the cafeteria to get some pizza before continuing the journey back to the dorms.

“I heard someone’s throwing a party soon,” Yunjin said through a mouth full of pepperoni pizza.

“Who is that ‘someone’?” you wiped your hand clean of pizza grease, then threw yourself on Yunjin’s bed, causing her to let out a grunt.

“That made me choke and I would’ve died. I don’t want my cause of death to be something related to pizza,” she grumbled, closing the pizza lid and taking the napkin you handed her.

“I thought you loved pizza?” you blinked innocently, flashing her your best smile and she threw you a dirty look.

“Think we got a little side tracked,” Yunjin mumbled thoughtfully. “If I’m not wrong, it was by one of those football chads? Was it Jake?”

“Jake might play football but he’s so not a chad,” you argued, unknowingly defending said boy.

Jake sim was, in fact, another popular athlete in your school who unsurprisingly turned out to be another playboy. You remembered the small heartbreak you had when you discovered his true identity, secretly wishing he was like any other non-fuckboy guy in the campus. But life’s unfair sometimes and somehow, that didn’t stop you from being acquainted with that golden retriever-like boy.

“You’re only saying that because he gives you free booze and free passes to football games,” Yunjin raised an eyebrow at you and you feigned ignorance. “Anyway, I think it’s that Yeonjun guy who’s throwing that party. He’s that rich kid, remember?”

“Yeah, I do. I saw him multiple times at games,”

“Didn’t he flirt with you?”

“Correction, he tried. Luckily Jake was there to stop him or else I would’ve given him a black eye,” you frowned.

“Would’ve loved to see that happen,” Yunjin shrugged while you narrowed your eyes at her.

“You’re praying on my downfall,”

“Never. Also, are we going to talk about that hockey player staring deeply into your soul just now?”

You rolled your eyes at her words. “I don’t think I would count 2 seconds anything—”

“Of course it does! Have you seen those love at first sight tropes in romcoms?”

“I think you watched too many of them, Jen,” you squeezed her cheek and she slapped your hand, deadpanning at you. “Who is he anyway?”

“If I’m not wrong, he’s number one, Lee Heeseung, the captain. I think he’s in your English class too? Ring a bell?” Yunjin raised an eyebrow at you.

“I think I do remember him. He’s the one with fangirls lining outside, right?” Yunjin nodded at your words and you laughed, thinking back to the time where your professor had to chase a group of girls away before class started. Why? Because of Lee Heeseung’s sheer presence.

“Let’s not forget his messy hookups. Yikes,” Yunjin shuddered at the thought, suddenly rubbing her chin with a small frown. “Don’t you think we’re a bit uneducated when it comes to their players?”

“I mean,” you hummed, nodding a little. “I guess you’re right, we’re always there for the game and some beers and we barely bothered to find out which player is which,”

“We should pull up their Instagram profiles next game,” Yunjin suggested with a wink.

“Oh, I think you’ll definitely be on it,”

“Obviously,” Yunjin smirked. “Anyway, up for a facemask?”

You huffed, a small smile appearing on your face. “You know I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“THIS IS SUCH A TYPICAL CHAD THROWN KIND OF PARTY,”

You found yourself complaining once more as you and Yunjin entered a big house. The living room was basically filled to the brim, along with loud music booming throughout the room and the smell of alcohol invaded your nostrils, this was pure hell. You turned to look at your best friend, silently cursing at her for bringing you here. Yunjin gave you her typical shrug as though she had read your thoughts, dragging you away from the vicinity.

"It's Yeonjun, what did you expect," Yunjin hissed, taking you further into the house.

"I also can’t believe you put me in this slutty dress,” you groaned. At this point, you were practically pulling your dress down every ten seconds from the way it kept riding up and you started getting beyond irritated by it.

“If not, you’ll turn up in your casual crop tops and denim shorts,” she shook her head in disapproval. “I can’t let that happen, not when there's rich guys here,”

"I'm here for a party, not to choose my next rich bachelor," you said in distaste, the last thing you wanted was a frat boy. “So, what are we going to do now?” you asked, holding tightly onto Yunjin’s hand as if your life depended on it.

“Enjoy ourselves, duh? I’ll go get some drinks. Sprite for you?”

You nodded, a little bummed out that you were missing out on some good booze since somebody, aka you, had to be responsible and drive back to the dorms without risking getting pulled over. You were already a broke college student, a fine would definitely not help your case.

Now here you are, stuck helplessly in the middle of a party with people you don’t know. Great. You thought about the possibilities that could've been if you decided to stay at home instead of leaning against a wall in a skimpy black dress and it had you groaning internally.

It was then the universe had heard your pleas of boredom and decided on some ‘fun’, except that ‘fun’ consisted of someone’s back bumping into you and their drink splattering all over onto your dress. You jumped in surprise and the boy who was practically pushed onto you had let out a small “oof” before fully realising what he had done.

“I’m so sorry,” he placed his cup aside and picked up some napkins from a table nearby. For a split moment, he was about to wipe your dress, then he paused, turning flustered when he realised what he was about to do, and instead, handed the napkins to you.

You gently dabbed the napkins on your soaked dress, a frown on your face as you felt the sticky substance stick to your skin uncomfortably. “It’s fine, you didn’t mean it anyway,”

You looked up from your dress, finally meeting his eyes. He blinked, seemingly trying to register who you were.

“It’s … you,”

“Me?” you pointed at yourself, a little dumbfounded at his words.

“I didn’t expect you to be here,”

That’s when it hit you. The very same eyes that stared back at you during the hockey game, the one that Yunjin had told you about. “Lee Heeseung?”

He resembled a bambi, his large innocent brown eyes gazing back at you, a look of curiosity behind them. He had a tall stature, his hair covering his forehead and it was styled plainly, not to mention his loosely buttoned up shirt clinging comfortably onto his frame. Now you understand why Yunjin said he has fangirls, you were shamefully about to be one too.

“Yeah … that’s me. What about you? Why’re you here?”

“Do you … recognize me?” you cringed a little at the memory of you practically cussing his team out, praying he would somehow forget it all.

“How could I not? You’re from English right? Shakespeare presentation, eh?” Heeseung recalled and you nodded, impressed that he remembered something from so long before, but most importantly, he remembered you.

“But of course, how could I forget, you’re also the person cussing us out on Friday too. I’m charmed, actually,” he chuckled nonchalantly as though it was nothing, but you, on the other hand, panicked a little and eyes only widened in a mix of horror and embarrassment.

Heeseung seemed to notice the panic in your eyes, waving his hands in reassurance. “Don’t worry though, I thought it was funny,” At his words, your shoulders relaxed, breathing out a sigh of relief.

You let out a nervous laugh. “You guys did your best. There’s always a next time,”

“Right,” he nodded, then averted his gaze back to your dress, instantly coming back to reality as he remembered the current problem in front of his face. He removed his jacket in a flash, carefully placing it over your shoulders. The sudden proximity had you gasping quietly, the waft of his cologne infiltrating your senses.

He was close, so so agonisingly close. A wave of shock passed through your body as you felt his gentle touch, almost feather-like as it lasted only just a second, but now with his hugging your body, you could finally breathe an air of comfort once warmth engulfed you.

“Sorry about your dress,” he pulled away, flashing you a genuine apologetic smile. “I thought the least I could do was give you my jacket,”

“No worries, you didn't do it on purpose anyway, it’s not your fault,” you assured him, being a little self aware that numerous wandering eyes were now on you and the campus’ popular hockey team captain. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Actually,” Heeseung started, “I can borrow one of my friend’s shirts so that you can change? I don’t think it’s a good idea walking around like that, plus my friend lives in this frat house anyway,”

“If you insist,” you gave in, not wanting to reject his help as he seemed so keen.

You silently followed Heeseung through the crowd of bodies, trying your hardest to not get swallowed with the way people were shoving around. Heeseung noticed you lagging behind and smoothly took hold of your hand, pulling you closer to him. You didn’t say much, letting him guide you up the stairs into someone’s room.

You glanced around the room. From the way it was decorated with random posters, sports magazines stacked on the bedside table and dirty clothes littered the floor, you were instantly convinced that this room belonged to a frat boy.

Heeseung surprisingly continued to keep his hand in yours, using the other to dig through a pile of clothes until he found an oversize shirt and a pair of pants. “Here,” he handed you the clothes, finally letting go of your hand, stepping away with his hands in his pockets. “I think all the bathroom’s full so it’s best to just change here,”

“You think so?”

“I know so, I’ll leave it up to your imagination to think about whatever that happens in there,”

“Right …” you faltered at his comment, the two of you remained staring at one another. That’s when you cleared your throat, fumbling with your clothes. “I would appreciate it if you turned around … unless you want a show?”

“For free? I can't say no, can I?”

“You wish. Now turn around,”

Heeseung shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face as he threw his hands up in defence and faced away. You stood behind him, cheeks flared while you practically yanked your skimpy black dress off. Yunjin would not be happy knowing she’ll have to do laundry.

You reached over to the back of your dress, practically yanking forcefully onto the zip that was unwilling to budge even for a bit. God, why me? Why now? Internally conflicted, you didn’t know whether to bear the shame and ask Heeseung for help or to just stay silent. But to your luck, the zip was stuck no matter how you pulled it.

“Heeseung?”

He hummed in response.

“I need your help,” you swallowed, trying your best to not shrivel up and dig a grave in that moment. “My zip is stuck.”

Momentary silence filled the air. It seemed Heeseung, too, was having some internal conflict. In a second, you heard shuffling behind you, feeling the warmth of his body close as his fingers reached for your zip, his other hand on your waist. You felt his fingertips grazing against your bare skin as he dragged the zipper down, hearing a faint gulp from him. You squeezed your eyes shut, swearing to never come to parties again.

“You’re good to go,” he whispered, coughing awkwardly.

“Thanks,” you met his eyes in the reflection of the small mirror placed on top of a dresser in front of you. Realisation seemed to hit him and he averted his gaze, taking a look around the room instead.

You practically yanked the dress off, pulling the shirt over your head and the pants on, stumbling a little from the sudden hit of nervousness. Could it be his presence that made you nervous? You hated this feeling.

“I’m done,” you declared, suddenly feeling the tension in the air.

“So, I can look now?” Heeseung joked and you rolled your eyes, but smiled at him.

“Keep your eyes closed forever then,” you bumped his shoulder, sitting down on the bed.

“Should we stay here instead?” he suggested and you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion, to which he scoffed. “Of course no funny business, who do you think I am?”

“Playboy Lee Heeseung, no?”

He groaned. “That’s what people think of me even though it’s completely false,”

“You do have fangirls, don’t you?”

“But I don’t date them, do I?” he retorted. “I don’t even go to parties much these days, coach has been up my ass,”

“Sucks to be you,”

Heeseung scoffed, turning to look at you with a question in mind. “You’re a big hockey fan?”

“Ever since I was a kid. Why?”

“I notice you’re always there every game night with your friend,”

“So, I’ve caught your attention?”

“A pretty girl like you surely wouldn’t go unnoticed in my eyes,” he was close now, a challenging glint in his eyes as his gaze fell to your lips from time to time.

“You’re funny, Hee,” you couldn’t resist smiling.

“How can I make it up to you?” his eyes met yours, a sly grin on his face. “About your dress, I mean,”

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, knowing damn well what lies in his words. Maybe he was just like every other campus athlete, but at that moment, you didn’t seem to care, your interest only increasing and you couldn’t tell if this was his plan all along.

You thought about his question for a moment, pursing your lip. “How about you win the next game? I think that’ll help a lot,”

Heeseung nodded thoughtfully. “If I do, can I get your number too?”

“Why not?”

“Shall this be a deal?” he smirked, ready for a challenge.

“Sure,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’ll win the next one, just you wait,” Heeseung's words were filled with utter determination and confidence. He was definitely ready to tell you 'told you so' and prove you wrong.

“Well, I’ll be waiting,” you glanced down at your phone, noticing over ten messages from Yunjin. Shit. “The clock’s ticking and I need to go. See you, captain,”

“Wait,” he caught hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You turned to look at him, a big question mark written over your expression, anticipating his next words. “Can I at least know what your name is?”

You grinned. “It’s Y/N,”

"Get ready with your phone number, Y/N. I'll be looking out for you at the next game. Keep the jacket too," he winked and you waved a small goodbye, exiting out the door and dashed down the stairs with your dirty clothes in hand, wearing Heeseung's jacket, completely unaware how quick your heart was beating.

When you spotted Yunjin, you practically fell into her arms as she started ranting about why you shouldn’t run away without her knowledge, but all of it eventually drowned out into white noise. The only thing you could think of suddenly was Heeseung. Lee fucking Heeseung.

"Y/N," she sang out your name, tapping your head to catch your attention. “Why are you in a different outfit? You got laid didn’t you?” she gasped and you slapped her arm.

“Heeseung spilled a drink on me and took me to his friend’s room to change, that’s all,”

“Heeseung?” she gasped again, a teasing grin slowly forming and you knew that trouble was in that mind of hers. “You and him didn’t smoochy smooch … right?”

“We’re not there yet, hello?”

“There’s something called a hook up, you hopeless romantic,” Yunjin shook her head. “This sounds like the start of a hockey romance based on the books I've read," she squealed and you only sighed.

"Please read some self help books too,"

"Never," she huffed, leaning in and dropping her voice so that only the two of you could hear what she was about to say. "What did you two talk about? A private hook up after games? We need some spice in your hockey romance plot!"

"Oh my god, I rather drown than fuck that man. You do realise he has fangirls chasing after him? They'll choke me in my sleep if I slept with him,"

Yunjin wrapped her arm around you. "I'll choke you first if you don't bag that man. He's tall, hockey captain, hot most importantly," she winked. "One down part is that I'm pretty sure he used to fuck around quite a lot too. But then a messy hook up traumatised him,"

"How so?"

"She was crazy from what I heard. That's why no fangirls will come at you for revenge, they know he's a whore, but they'll just line up instead," she led you out to a flight of stairs, where there were some questionable couples making out, but that didn't stop you and Yunjin from sitting on the landing.

"Totally not a red flag," you said sarcastically. "I don't know how to feel about him. He was nice, quite flirty. Maybe he's like those Wattpad cliches where he's actually a nice guy?" You said, sipping onto the drink Yunjin got you.

"Who knows? Judging from the past rumours I've heard here and there, he definitely was a manwhore, but he’s also a sweet and genuine one," Yunjin clicked her tongue. "I did hear he's quite a sweetheart aside from his fuckboy tendencies."

"A manwhore with a kind heart! Just my type!" You clapped your hands and Yunjin chuckled at your comment. “Anyway, I swore I'm done with hockey boys a long time ago. I don't want to like him,"

Ice hockey has always been one of your favourite sports, but hockey boys? They were a whole different story for you. A core memory from highschool that you wished to never revisit was the fact that you had your heart broken by a hockey boy. He was considered your first love, a best friend, that ended up breaking your trust.

"This is why you should date a footballer,"

You snapped out of your momentary daze, looking up to meet Jake Sim’s eyes.

“Present to me a perfect candidate then,” Yunjin crossed her arms, frowning at Jake. She wasn't a big fan of him, considering his notorious playboy tendencies, but over time he did gradually warm up to her.

"Me!"

"I'll rip your head off first before you get a chance with Y/N,"

"Ouch,"

You and Yunjin shared a look, then burst out laughing.

"What's up, Sim? Do you have something for me?" You questioned Jake, wondering what his purpose was for his sudden appearance.

"Nothing, I'm just bored," he said plainly, though you and Yunjin were a little unconvinced.

"Okay? Any games coming up?"

"It's currently a short break for us. I'm glad or else my legs will snap in half soon," Jake pouted, resembling a puppy, which you couldn't help but find endearing. "You should totally come and learn to kick some footballs soon. Jake Sim is always up for some training," he winked.

"I'll be the next running candidate to take over Messi, right?" Yunjin joked and you nudged her side, giggling.

"Only if you learn at Jake Sim's personal training," he shrugged, a small smirk on his face. "Anyway, I really want to watch the hockey team and I heard you guys were regulars. Mind if I join?"

You raised an eyebrow at Yunjin, shooting her a wordless question. Yunjin scrunched her nose, thinking for a moment before shrugging. All while that was happening, Jake was just standing there staring, a little unimpressed.

"Hello? I don't appreciate this mind linking conversation that I'm not a part of," he placed his hands on his hips, his head tilted to the side.

"Alright, sorry," Yunjin mumbled.

"Fine, you can tag along," you said, watching the boy before you grin.

"Let's go!"

"IS IT NORMAL TO BE FREEZING COLD HERE?"

Jake had his arms around himself, shivering slightly even though he was already in layers. You and Yunjin followed the boy to your seats as he marvelled at the size of the rink.

"I barely watch hockey games, I'm more of a summer sports kinda guy," he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Well, it's just your lucky day, you'll be witnessing a win too," Yunjin winked, passing you a knowing glance.

"How do you know?"

"Team captain over there–" Yunjin nodded over at Heeseung, who was practising on the rink with the team, looking good as always, which only further annoyed you. "–made a deal with Y/N. I'm sure his determination will mix well with his competitiveness,"

Yunjin glanced over at you, a small smirk on her face. "And here he comes," she sang and you whipped your head just in time to meet his eyes.

Heeseung skated over, a small smile on his face. You felt Yunjin nudging your side in excitement and you slapped her hands away, ignoring her giddy expression and you returned a lopsided smile to Heeseung.

“Y/N!” you managed to hear his muffled voice through the glass, which he tapped on a couple times to get your full attention.

“I’m going to score one for you tonight,” you were surprised with the determined glint in his eyes, proving Yunjin's statement immediately, and after a quick wave from him, he skated away to join his team, preparing for the game to start.

Jake whistled, fanning himself. “I definitely felt the tension.”

“Shut up.”

The second period ended with a draw, both teams were not willing to back down for just a little, even creating small brawls on ice from time to time, causing the tension to be heightened. The third period was equally heart stopping and gut twisting. You had to occasionally grip Yunjin's arm whenever there was a close chance to score.

There was a sudden switch in the atmosphere, the home team had dominated possession of the puck, the blades of their skates working overtime trying to reach the other end to the opponent’s goal post. One hit after another, the puck travelled from one player’s hockey stick to another, until it reached star player Park Sunghoon, who had defenders swarming him and it left him no choice but to pass to his captain, Lee Heeseung.

With one swift hit to the oncoming puck from Sunghoon, it shot into the back of the net, leaving the goalie absolutely defenceless. The arena erupted with shouts and cheers, not expecting the sudden turnover from their home team, the speakers were blaring music, followed by announcing Heeseung’s name, which was welcomed with deafening screams. Shamelessly, you, Jake and Yunjin were part of the screams, clapping and jumping.

The team jumped onto Heeseung, but somehow, he escaped them all and started skating towards your direction, pointing his stick at you and shooting a wink. 'For you' he mouthed slyly at you before rejoining his teammates.

“See, I told you Heeseung will win it for Y/N,” Yunjin said, seemingly pleased.

“MVP,” Jake clapped, a shocked expression on his face.

You, on the other hand, were trying to digest everything that just happened. The moment where he dedicated the goal to you had you unintentionally blushing, realising a sudden change in feelings. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be so bad if you gave him a chance. Countless thoughts swarmed your head even until the end of the game.

Now, here you were, waiting for Heeseung at the parking lot, your friends peeking in the car from a distance.

Yunjin shot you an encouraging thumbs up while Jake only laughed at Yunjin’s efforts. You glared at them, waving them off and you reciprocated back with a middle finger. That’s when you heard a rough cough behind you. Fuck.

“Y/N?”

You turned around slowly, looking as though you were just caught in the middle of commiting something you're not supposed to. “Heeseung,” you laughed nervously. "Congrats on the game! You played well,”

“Thank you,” Heeseung grinned. “I’m glad you came. I mean, you always do, what am I even saying?” he rambled, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

You couldn't help laughing, finding the way he got nervous was cute. He was cute too. Undeniable. "That was a nice goal by the way,"

"Well, I did say I wanted to score one specifically for you. I'm a man of my words, you know?" He chuckled, getting shy eventually. "I'm glad you liked it though,"

"Of course I did," you gave him a small smile, fidgeting your fingers slightly.

He straightened up, regaining his composure. “So … our deal,”

“You’re lucky I like you enough to actually stick to it,” you grumbled, shoving your hand into your pocket to dig out the piece of paper.

“You like me, huh?”

“Not in that way yet,”

“‘Yet’. So I do have a chance. I’m happy to know,”

“Do you want my number or a black eye?” you threatened rather unseriously, a teasing tone laced in your words.

“I’d prefer a kiss, but your number shall do for now,” he grabbed the small note from your hand, unwrapping it to find a candy in it. “Apple flavoured, what a nice surprise,” he mumbled under his breath.

“You’re cute, you truly have a way to my heart huh?” he looked up from the candy, storing away your number safely into his pocket.

You caught yourself speechless from his words. On average, you were typically unfazed by these comments. Countless boys had tried them on you and all of them turned out to feel icky instead of making you kick your feet, giggling. But this time, Heeseung proved you wrong.

"Coming from Lee Heeseung himself, should I be flattered?" You tried your best to stay nonchalant, keeping your heart rate down as much as you can.

"I don't know? You tell me," Heeseung leaned down, his face close to you now, making you slowly grow flustered.

"Count me a little flattered," you took the clothes from the other night from your bag, pushing it into Heeseung's hands, catching him off guard. "Here, relay my thanks to your friend,"

"Only to my friend? What about me?" Heeseung crossed his arms, staring accusingly at you.

"My number already counts as a ‘thanks’, doesn’t it?"

Heeseung narrowed his eyes at you, a smile itching at the corner of his lips. “Not enough. A date might suffice,”

“You are demanding, Lee Heeseung,” you huffed, but not rejecting his suggestion either.

“I’ll text you, pretty girl. I have a plan in mind, so you better clear your schedules,”

“Alright, captain.”

“FOR ONCE, I DON'T REGRET COMING TO A PARTY YOU SELECTED,”

You’ve always avoided frat parties, specifically frat boys, but this time, Yunjin managed to accomplish the unexpected by convincing you to a frat party. You had to admit, there was a small motive behind your agreement, which was to visit the richest frat house on the campus. Free expensive booze, a big pool, big everything, it was definitely going to be more than a party. All you had to do was avoid the frat boys and your night shall be made.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yunjin snapped, but you were too busy checking out the vicinity to listen to her grumbles.

“They have a huge ass yard and pool,” you whispered to Yunjin, weaving through the growing crowd. The house was too extravagant, even the air in there seemed richer. The tiles were completely marbled, there were stairs leading up to almost four floors. You wondered how it was even owned by a frat.

“This is a rich frat, what did you expect?”

“Touche.”

You and Yunjin didn’t bother waiting for a second before taking some pregame shots. The vodka burned your throat, making you wince a little, but it didn't stop you from more. The moment Jake found the two of you, it was already clear you were already on the way to being completely shit-faced.

"Oh come on, you already started without me?" Jake whined, downing two shots of vodka straight.

"Couldn't resist," Yunjin pressed her lips into a thin line, shrugging slightly.

"Also, did you guys hear?" Jake leaned in, dropping his voice. "The hockey team from our rival school is coming to this party,"

"What?" You hissed, frowning slightly. "Who invited their asses?"

"I don't know," Jake shrugged, picking up another glass of alcohol from a tray.

"Speaking of hockey," Yunjin cleared her throat, passing you a knowing smirk. "Aren't you going to find Heeseung?"

"I–why would I?" You stammard, avoiding Yunjin's piercing gaze.

"He's clearly into you. Didn't you see him pulling that stunt that day? Scoring a goal for you and winning just for your number? That's the most commitment I've seen from him or just any man in general,"

"Hear hear," Jake raised his glass in agreement, then proceeded to down it without a second thought.

"I'll see what happens tonight," you said, but your eyes decided to go against you, unconsciously scanning the room hoping to see him.

"Tonight will be full of opportunities," Yunjin marvelled, throwing her arm around your shoulder and winking. "If you know what I mean," she whispered.

"The first you'll see is me getting drunk, not getting laid," you let out an exasperated sigh, pursing your lips and pausing as something caught your eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows, instantly noticing a group of guys filing into the room. They must be the rival team Jake had mentioned.

“Must be them,” Yunjin pointed out, taking a big gulp from her cup. Jake whipped his head around, scanning the group of guys that were yelling loudly, dabbing up one another and seemingly unlikeable as a whole.

He made a sour expression. “Great, hockey jocks,”

“As though your group of football guys are any better,” Yunjin quipped, only earning a sharp glare from Jake and he cleared his throat, gaze focused on a specific person.

“That guy there must be their captain,” he nodded at the group and you had to squint your eyes to see who Jake had his attention trained at. Almost immediately, your smile dropped, along with your heart. It was him.

You froze the moment your eyes landed on a tall figure, it definitely was him. He stood out from the rest, being the taller and bulkier one with messy hair and undeniable charm from the way he was already surrounded by different girls. Yup, that’s 100% Matthew, your high school lover, the hockey boy that traumatised your love life.

“Oh fuck me,” you cursed under your breath, the other two turning to stare at you.

“You want to fuck him?” Jake shrieked in surprise and Yunjin slapped the back of his head, causing the boy to hiss in pain, silently cursing.

“No, dipshit. That’s her …” she glanced at you and you nodded, giving her a green flag to continue, “ex.”

“Him? Matthew Son? Your ex?” Jake was flabbergasted, panning back and forth between your ex and you.

“Unfortunately. High school ex, to be exact,” you grumbled, pushing away the ill thoughts and bitter feelings that lingered for Mathew. You were a new person, you were never someone to be stuck in the past, you weren’t about to be affected by him. Never.

“I might need more drinks,” you rubbed the side of your head, slipping away before the other two could even say anything. Though the voice in your head was constantly affirming that his presence wasn’t affecting you, you still couldn’t help feeling unnerved. Seeing him was unnerving too.

The kitchen was unsurprisingly glamorous and the space was huge. Everything in there screamed fancy and expensive. The counter was made from marble, cupboards were also probably made from high quality wood and the wide variety of food in there could literally make it resemble a grocery store. Best of yet, you had it all to yourself. For once, your ex made himself useful enough by helping you attract everyone to the main room.

You spotted some leftover bottles of gin and decided to give your bartender skills some try. It wasn’t your first rodeo thanks to Yunjin. Ever since she started bringing you to parties and being someone who’s easily impressed, you found yourself learning some tips and tricks on how to mix drinks from a rando in a party one day. Soon, it became your favourite party activity.

It was quite peaceful being all by yourself. The songs playing on the speakers reverberated across the house, but you didn’t mind it as you mixed a concoction of gin and juice on the counter, praying it would turn out fine.

“You’re here?”

You turned around at the sound of the voice, almost toppling over your glass in shock, but the moment you met a familiar set of doe eyes, you released a breath of relief, your heart unknowingly beating faster.

“You’re here too? I thought no parties for Mr Hockey?” you leaned back onto the counter as he walked to your side.

“Thought I’d give myself an off day after yesterday’s win,” Heeseung shrugged, glancing at you from time to time. “Surprisingly, I always see you at every party I go to,”

“I was dragged to every said party by force,” you thought of the she-devil, Yunjin, who somehow successfully convinced you to attend every party with her. “Do you want a drink?” you offered, nodding towards your half made drink.

“You’re making them?” Heeseung eyed the bottles.

“I am a woman of many talents,” you said smugly, continuing your drink mixing, feeling Heeseung’s piercing stare on you.

“A woman who wouldn’t poison me right?” he peeked over your shoulder, closing in on your face, his body only inches away from yours till the point where you could feel the heat radiating off him. Lee Heeseung definitely knew what he was doing.

“You’re doubting my abilities now then?” you kept your cool, pouring alcohol into a new glass for Heeseung.

He smiled. “Just trying to make sure,” he murmured into your ears and you could tell he was enjoying teasing you. Sly fucker.

“No promises,” your voice came out in a whisper, turning a little to the side to meet his pair of bambi eyes and your breath hitched suddenly upon realising how close the two of you were, you were only an inch apart from touching each other’s noses. You were scared to move even the slightest, shying gradually from his eyes sweeping your features.

“What if I said I wanted to kiss you,”

You scoffed, growing immune to his charms. “I thought you were a gentleman, Lee? No candlelit dinner first?”

He cracked a grin, chuckling slightly. “Sometimes I skip that part and jump to dessert first,” he winked and you rolled your eyes, pushing his face away and he burst out laughing. “I’m playing with you. I’m obviously a gentleman, can’t you tell?”

You hummed, raising an eyebrow at him in scepticism. “I can’t.”

“You love breaking my heart, Y/N. I’m hurt,” he frowns, feigning innocence as he laid his head on your shoulder, clutching at his chest and you found yourself smiling unknowingly at his dramatics.

You decided to play along, patting Heeseung’s head in so called “comfort”. “Oh, what can I do to fix your broken heart, Heeseung?” you exclaimed.

“Come to Jay’s birthday party with me?” he stared up at you with pleading eyes. Those bambi eyes will eventually be the death of you.

"Why?"

You've heard of Jay Park one too many times. From the campus cafes to the local club, he was everywhere, and you didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. He was another one of the popular hockey players from Heeseung's team which you've seen at almost every party you attended ever since your first year.

Yunjin told you only one thing upon seeing Jay Park: "don't meddle with him" and you've stuck to it.

"That's a bold invitation," you considered for a moment, still quite unconvinced. "Isn't it just a bro only party?"

"He's the one asking us to bring a plus one," Heeseung huffed, removing his head from your shoulder, a small pout on his face. "Worse part is that it's in a club,"

"Are you trying to persuade me or dissuade me?"

"What I mean is, I'll be with you there. It's also a VIP lounge given how loaded Jay is and knowing him, he probably rented it out too. Plus, they'll finally get to meet the girl who cussed them out!"

You buried your head into your hands in shame, embarrassment burning your cheeks red. "You can't be serious,"

"Unfortunately, I am. But they'll love you, don't worry, pretty,"

You glared at him while he only returned a cheeky grin back at you. “Fine,” you groaned out, ultimately succumbing to his words, unable to deny the effect he had on you. Curse him. “When and what time?”

“Next Saturday night,” his grin widened at your words, satisfaction washed over his face. “I’ll pick you up at 7?”

“Sounds good,”

“That’s that then,” he glanced over at his shoulders, hearing faint shouts of his name outside of the kitchen and passed you an apologetic smile, as if expressing that it was a shame he couldn’t stay longer and you couldn’t lie, you wanted him to stay longer. “Remember to send me your address, gorgeous.” he waved his phone in the air before backing away and disappearing out the door.

It was about to be a long week ahead.

“SET ME UP WITH ONE OF THEM, PLEASE. I NEED THE MONEY,”

Saturday, to your dismay, unfortunately and eventually arrived. You didn’t know whether to be excited or absolutely dread the party, a certain feeling of anxiety clawing at your insides just when you think about meeting new people. Yunjin could only roll her eyes at you as she added more eyeshadow.

“It already sends shivers down my spine thinking that I’ll be speaking to them in person and you expect me to go ‘hey guys, my friend needs someone to be her sugar daddy, you up’?” you deadpanned, applying a layer of lip gloss.

“That’s exactly it,” Yunjin smiled pleasantly and you feigned gagging, making Yunjin laugh and almost poking the mascara wand into your eyes. “Also, do you consider this a date?”

“He did say he wanted to take me out, but having him take me to a club as a date? I don’t think he’s the sleazy type to do so. I take it as him taking me as his date … like a friendly invite,”

“Friendly invite?” Yunjin exclaimed incredulously, inching closer to check on the details of your makeup. “Did you see the way he looks at you? There's nothing friendly about that, he’s hooked,”

“You’re giving me false hope, Jen,” you sighed, standing up to change into an outfit Yunjin picked which, in her words,was definitely ‘life changing enough to have Heeseung on his knees’.

“Not false hope if it’s literally just the truth,” Yunjin shrugged, helping to clasp a necklace around your neck. “Come on, give me a twirl,” she squealed excitedly once you were done struggling balancing on one leg putting on the dress and shoes.

You complied with Yunjin’s request, begrudgingly giving her a small twirl. At the same time, you took the chance to glance down at your dress, satisfied that for once an impulsive purchase benefited you. The dress was a shade of midnight blue, hugging your body tight and showing off your curves in the best way as if it was custom made. All in all, as Yunjin would describe, it was simply ‘pants dropping��.

At the ‘ping’ of your notification, you saw a text from Heeseung saying he had already arrived and your heart jumped. With one swift hug from Yunjin and an ‘encouraging’ saying along the lines of ‘hooking up’ and ‘protection’, you were pushed out of the door and soon into Heeseung’s car.

“Hi, pretty girl,” Heeseung greeted, a half smile on his face as his hands rested on the steering wheel. He paused when his eyes landed on your figure, his gaze sweeping you from top to bottom, making you a little self conscious. He whistled under his breath, blinking slowly.

“Eyes up here,” you stared pointedly at him, crossing your arms, but you had to admit, you were checking him out shamelessly as well, the smell of his vanilla cologne in the air and his loose button up shirt wasn’t helping either.

“My bad. I was just admiring you. You look pretty,” he turned his attention back to the road, heading to wherever the club was located, just in time to not notice the slight blush to your cheeks.

“Really? You don’t look too bad yourself either, Lee,”

“Why thank you. I’m flattered,” he shot you a wink and you could only roll your eyes at his antics.

The rest of the conversation continued in a casual flow, making you feel at ease and your anxiety eventually lessened. The jokes he cracked made you laugh and with the way he answered your questions, you knew he wasn’t anything like the playboy people made him up to be. As much as you hated to admit, you were giving him the benefit of the doubt. Will it hurt you? Maybe.

After Heeseung pulled the car into park, you got out and you were instantly in awe at the exterior of the club. This was in fact a place where rich kids party, judging from the amount of ferraris, mercedes and other luxurious cars parked outside, you made sure to keep yourself away from the snobby rich kids or who knows, Yunjin’s wish might even be granted tonight.

Wordlessly, Heeseung offered you his hand and you intertwined your fingers with his, letting him guide you further into the club as you pushed yourself through the crowd, and soon arrived in a large room that was almost the size of someone’s living room. “You’re kidding,” you murmured, amazed by the size of the room and the decorations littered across every wall.

“Told you Jay was blessed with money,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, shooting a sweet smile.

“I should set him up with Yunjin,” you said thoughtlessly and Heeseung chuckled.

“He’ll like that roommate of yours,”

“Heeseung!”

You were interrupted by an approaching figure who was easily recognizable with that head of freshly dyed white hair. Park Sunghoon, another ace of the hockey team. Thanks to Yunjin’s valiant effort in finding every player’s instagram profile, you were now able to recognise who was who.

“Hoon!” Heeseung greeted back, giving his best friend a side hug.

Unfortunately for you, Sunghoon was quick to turn his attention to you instead. “Y/N right? Heard many good things about you,” he extended his hand, a sneaky grin on his face.

You accepted his handshake, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his words. “That’s me,”

“You’re a regular at the hockey games, how are they?” Sunghoon kept you company now that Heeseung went away to greet the others, but you didn’t mind, finding yourself growing comfortable with the Jack Frost look alike.

“Do you wish to listen to my boring five hour analysis on each game?”

“I think it would be longer than five hours,”

“Exactly,” you clicked your tongue, then narrowed your eyes in suspicion at him. “Plus, how do you know I’m a regular? It’s not like I score front row seats every game,”

Sunghoon glanced around as if searching for anyone who’s eavesdropping, then he gestured for you to come closer, which you did, though clearly confused. “I think Heeseung will kill me for saying this,”

“Why?” you whispered back, your smile twisting into a frown. “Oh god, is Heeseung a stalker?”

“What?” it was Sunghoon’s turn to be utterly confused, staring back at you as though you’re the crazy one. He shook his head. “Heeseung might fool around sometimes but he’s definitely not a stalker or a Ted Bundy wannabe.”

“Thank heavens,” you let out a sigh of relief, but Sunghoon definitely wasn’t done yet.

“Anyway, what I was about to say was, Heeseung has always paid attention to you, Y/N. English class, hockey games, he’s got sharp eyes, ace for a reason eh? He’s genuine about you. Believe me, I’ve heard about you since day one, and I mean this in a nice way, but I’m sick of him constantly talking about you without doing anything at all,” a small grin appeared on Sunghoon’s devilishly handsome features.

“I must admit, he was a player, but I can see he’s changing and I don’t think it’ll hurt to give him a chance. He’s a sweetheart, so just don’t break his heart, will you?” he glanced behind his shoulders, noticing Heeseung entering the room with one of his teammates and a girl. “Heeseung’s back and I know he’s going to kill me if he finds out. It’s nice meeting you, Y/N. My date’s here, see you!”

Sunghoon gave you a small pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving your head in a frenzy state. Lee Heeseung, captain of the hockey team, the school’s ace and pride, basically Mr Popular, was into you? Yunjin was going to strangle you in either excitement or surprise when she found out.

“What were you guys talking about?” he slithered smoothly to your side, bumping your shoulder gently.

“Hockey. Was wondering if he wanted an analysis on each game,”

Heeseung grinned, shaking his head gently. “You’re a menace,”

There were basically zero chances to be alone together, which you suddenly craved after Sunghoon basically dropped a big bomb on you, till now you still couldn’t swallow. Heeseung had you close to his side as he introduced you to each of his teammates and their dates, including the birthday boy Jay, and somehow all of them remembered you from that fateful night on Friday.

“So, how did you meet our dear Heeseung here?” Jay wiggled his eyebrows, passing you a glass of champagne that probably costs way more than you imagine.

“Oh, it was magical, I fell into his arms and he confessed his love for me,” you sighed dreamily, fanning yourself. At your words, Jay nudged you, a wide smile on his face and you waved your hand, stifling your giggles. “Kidding, it would totally be a wattpad cliche if that happened. He’s in my English class and we met at a party,”

“I’m surprised he’s somewhat won you over,” he raised a questionable eyebrow at you. “You are aware of how he was right? Or are you the type to scream and cry after figuring out his past fuckboy history?”

You gave him an unamused stare. “If I minded his past, I wouldn’t be here anyway. But he does seem like a changed person, I’ve heard stories from my roommate and they were … interesting,”

Jay let out a soft laugh at that. “I can tell he’s serious about you, trust me, he’s the type to not back down when he sets his mind to something. Let his hockey be an example,” he shrugged. “I know my best friend, Y/N. Unless he fucks up then I’ll punch him for you,”

You placed a hand on your chest, a bemused grin lit up your features. “You’re truly a gentleman, Jay,”

“Hey, I’m supposed to be your gentleman!” Heeseung appeared behind you, his arm thrown around your shoulder. If you could explode right now, you would. The amount of skinship you had with Heeseung was unhealthy and unknowingly, you found yourself succumbing to it each time. “Let’s go to the dancefloor outside? The guys really want to go,”

Now you were in the middle of the dancefloor, swaying your body to the beat of whatever song the DJ was playing and it was nice that it felt like you were in your own world, carelessly and mindlessly dancing to your heart’s content. You were surrounded by the boys’ dates, who you’ve found yourself befriending quickly, while Heeseung was nowhere to be seen after dancing for only a few minutes. Rude.

“Hi,” you snapped your head to find Jay squeezing through towards you, trying his best to not get his expensive shoe stepped on. “Where’s Heeseung?”

“That’s a question I’d like to ask too. He’s definitely not with me though. I thought he was with you at first … but I guess not,” you shrugged, frowning slightly as you wondered where that man would have run off to.

“I thought he was with you,” Jay huffed, annoyance clear in his features. “I swear if he’s out there wasted, coach is going to—wait…” he faltered, his gaze trailed over your head and being naturally curious, you followed his gaze, turning around and from a distance, you couldn’t tell what Jay was even looking at, until you pinpoint a familiar someone in a dress shirt you saw not long before.

There he was, sitting at the bar, back facing the dancing floor as he sat close to a girl, whispering into each others’ ears and laughing. You swore you didn’t care, but the heart doesn’t lie, you were jealous and it wasn’t helping how Sunghoon was just saying Heeseung was serious about you only hours before this. It was comical.

“Oh,” Jay said under his breath, taking a big gulp from the glass in his hand.

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” you said flatly, not realising you were practically shooting daggers into the back of Lee Heeseung’s head. Jay let out a small laugh that eventually turned into a cough once he saw you giving him a side eye, an apologetic smile appearing on his face.

“You know, Y/N, I have a plan,” his smile slowly turned into a smirk and it dawned on you, Park Jong Seong’s gears were in work and you didn’t know what you’re about to get yourself into. “Don’t give me that look, my plans are the best,”

Your frown deepened, resuming to give Jay a sceptical look as his smile continued to get more playful. Oh you were in for a treat. “Why don’t we make Heeseung … jealous? I mean, it is clear that he likes you, a little push won’t hurt can it?”

“Have you been watching too many romcoms?” you shot him a look of exasperation, noticing the similarity between him and Yunjin. One was already enough, you didn't need two. Jay nudged you softly, wiggling his eyebrows in encouragement for disaster.

“I bet you the moment he sees you with me, he’s going to burst and before you know it, you’ll be celebrating your one year anniversary—”

You held a hand up, silencing Jay before he could continue further. You started chewing on your bottom lip, a small habit of yours, as you found yourself in disbelief once these words left your lips. “Fine, why not?”

Jay shot you a wink, closing in on you and you placed a hand on his chest, raising an eyebrow. “No funny business, Jay,”

“You have no faith in me. It’s common bro code to not get with your best friend’s girl,”

You let Jay dance close to you, appreciating the fact that he was maintaining a respectful distance to you, setting a clear boundary between the both of you. Contrary to popular beliefs, he might actually seem not too bad. “I feel like Lee Heeseung might’ve been peeking at us,”

“You think so?”

Jay glanced at the direction of the bar, catching Heeseung’s piercing gaze and he smirked, leaning close to you. “Oh, he’s so watching us,”

"You're kidding," you turned around, still moving your body to the music, squinting your eyes to find Heeseung staring back at you, jaw clenched and lips pressed into a flat line, practically glaring daggers into Jay's head.

"You're not," you said mindlessly, hearing Jay burst out laughing behind you, but it all faded to grey as your eyes followed Heeseung's figure disappear behind a corner.

"He's leaving," you spun around, meeting Jay's panicked expression. "I'll go find him,"

"Did our plan work a little too well?"

"We’ll find out soon," you patted Jay's shoulder, whispering a quick thanks before welcoming the challenge of squeezing past sweaty bodies.

You figured Heeseung was heading back to the private room from the looks of where he was going, so you followed his trail around the corner, stumbling slightly and immediately regretting the amount of drinks you had. In the very next moment, you regretted more than just the drinks, you were contemplating your existence.

"Y/N?"

Son Matthew was staring back at your limp figure leaning against the wall for support, a mix of shock and confusion in his face. You, on the other hand, was about to sink into the ground in shame. Being tipsy and struggling to stand was already a moment you would never want anyone to see, let alone your cheating ex.

You cleared your throat, gripping onto the wall to straighten up, avoiding his wandering eyes as much as you could. The awkward tension in the air was palpable, you were aware how rigid the man before you was and you knew he probably didn’t think of bumping into you here out of nowhere.

“So…how are you—”

“Save the small talk please,” you interjected, sighing deeply at the usual post breakup ‘how are you’s and awkward catching up.

“Look, I never got to apologise and I know you hate me for it—”

“Of course I do!” you exclaimed, getting heated gradually and the alcohol in your system wasn’t helping one bit. “I walked in on you and her in the bedroom and you expect me to stand there to wait for your apology? It’s the fact that you never bothered to apologise after anyway,”

He looked down in shame, knowing every word you said was true and undeniable, meanwhile his silence only hurt you further. First loves always hurt, and seeing him here again after many years made you realise that you truly deserved way more than a hockey jock like him.

“I’m playing against your school’s team next week,” he said weakly, trying to change the subject. Great, another day to dread when it was supposed to be you and your best friend’s day.

“Good luck,” you didn’t know what to say, finding yourself in an awkward position. “Or not really,”

Matthew nodded slowly, clearly getting uncomfortable and you were too. “So, are you talking to someone now—”

“Yeah, she is,”

You felt an arm snaking its way around your shoulder, tensing for a minute until you realised whose voice it was.

“Lee Heeseung?” Matthew’s demeanour changed in a flash, suddenly seeming more spiteful and filled with jealousy. This was giving you deja vus of the red flags you’ve experienced in your past relationship. It made you feel sick.

“Son Matthew,” Heeseung cooed, eyeing him readily. Heeseung and Matthew had always been somewhat rivals ever since they started playing hockey. Matthew had mentioned a ‘rival’ once too many times in the past and lucky you, you were able to piece it together after entering college where you’d watched their teams play against each other once for a cup competition.

“Long time no see,” Heeseung said coolly, a small smirk on his face as he stared back at your ex, whose expression was twisting into a foul look. “Ready for the next game?”

At Heeseung’s mocking tone, Matthew scoffed. “You haven’t changed, eh? Still the usual overconfident Lee Heeseung,”

“They don’t call me ‘ace’ for no reason, right? Hey, I deserve some bragging rights,” you rolled your eyes at Heeseung’s words, which seemed to tick your ex further. He really knows how to rile someone up, doesn’t he?

“See you on the ice,” Matthew grumbled, walking past Heeseung and you, making sure to mumble ‘jerk’ loud enough for Heeseung to hear, prompting him to let out a laugh as he waved your ex tauntingly goodbye.

“How friendly,” Heeseung gritted out through a forced smile, his eyebrows furrowed, obviously annoyed but then he turned to you, a quizzical look replacing his previous agitated expression. “How do you know this guy? He’s a complete douche,”

“He’s my ex,” you admitted not so happily, noticing the slight surprise in Heeseung’s face.

“He wasn’t trying to do anything to you right?” Heeseung asked at once, his eyes flashed with worry as they darted around your face to your body. You softened at his words, shaking your head and reaching over to take his hand in yours.

“I’m fine, really. It was really awkward though,” you tried to laugh it off, but in reality you were so ready to dig yourself a grave. “You’re not wrong, he is a jerk and I don’t know what I even saw in him when he literally cheated on me,”

“Speaks a lot about his character for being so shit off and on ice. I’m sorry, Y/N, you deserved more than someone like him,” Heeseung squeezed your hand gently, passing you a consoling smile.

“It’s alright, Hee, I’ve gotten over him years ago. I hope you guys beat his ass next game,” you swung his hand lightly, beaming at his presence, but not noticing the fact that he was trying his best to hide a smile.

Heeseung cleared his throat. “I’ll trash him for you, Y/N,”

“Sounds like another challenge. I’ll take you up on it,” you smirked.

“You have to stop tormenting me, I swear,” Heeseung sighed wearily at your antics, but he couldn’t resist a lopsided grin. “Anyway, where were you even going?”

“To get a drink,” you blatantly lied through your teeth, unwilling to admit that you were actually looking for him. There’s one thing that Yunjin always preached and it was to never let a man know you’re chasing him. In times like this, you were about to listen to her teachings.

“You had fun dancing with Jay?” Heeseung smoothly brought up, completely having zero intentions of either sugar coating nor hiding his jealousy, and you were stunned by his straightforwardness, a small grin tugging at your lips.

“He offered me company, so I took up that offer. Someone here was off flirting with someone else, no? I thought you were a gentleman?” you said teasingly, but in secret, you had to admit you were a little upset. Just a little.

Heeseung stared back at you, a look of amusement and deadpan on his face.“I wasn’t flirting, Y/N. She was asking what drink I got since it looked funky and being the gentleman I am—” he gave you a smirk and winked, “— I answered her question, but she couldn’t hear me so I had to lean in. It’s genuinely a misunderstanding from someone else’s point of view,”

Noticing the slight lingering doubt in your features, he smiled at you reassuringly, throwing his arm around you and started guiding you back to the private room. “You do know I’m yours for the night, right? I won’t leave you for someone else. I told you I’ll have you by my side and I’ll stick to it,”

“Just for tonight?” you said curiously, peering up at him.

“What are you trying to say, Y/N?” he raised his eyebrow at you quizzically, but you just brushed it off, flushing a little at your own words, meanwhile Heeseung sneaked a small smile after noticing your panicky behaviour.

“Let me take you home,” Heeseung offered, pushing the door open to a room scattered with people here and there, some making out on the couch and some at the corner having small talks. The contrast was certainly there.

“What about the whole birthday celebration for Jay? Cake?”

“Oh he’s too drunk for that,” Heeseung waved his hand dismissively, as if this was a common occurrence. “Sunghoon will help him out, don’t worry,”

“If you say so … then I won’t decline your kind offer,” you furrowed your eyebrows, pursed your lips and stared pointedly at Heeseung. “Did you drink?”

“Mocktails, Y/N, mocktails. I’ve been pulled over before and trust me, I want none of that again,”

“Bad boy Heeseung … interesting,” you nodded slightly, a mischievous smirk on your face, to which was met with Heeseung unamused laugh.

“I’ll dump you here if you call me that again,” he huffed, picking up your jacket and bag.

“What happened to being yours for the night?” you said in a sing-song tone, looping your arm around his and pulled him through the door, making sure to wave a half-drunk Jay along the way out.

“Might have to make some adjustments then.”

“Mean.”

NEVER IN YOUR DREAMS WOULD YOU EXPECT YUNJIN TO absolutely embarrass Heeseung the moment he dropped you off at your doorstep. But that was exactly what had happened.

"Oh Heeseung," Yunjin opened the door with a hand placed on her hip, staring straight at Heeseung with a vague smile.

"Uh … hi?" Heeseung greeted back with uncertainty, panning back and forth between you and your roommate.

"Kissed Y/N yet?"

You and Heeseung immediately froze on the spot, blinking in question back at Yunjin, and you swore to yourself that you couldn't take anymore embarrassing moments for the night or else you'll soon be six feet under. You felt heat travelling up to your face and embarrassment crawling onto your skin.

"Well! Goodnight, Heeseung. Thanks for the ride!" you instantly pushed Yunjin back inside, closing the door but just enough for you to peek your head out.

"Don't mind her, she likes to think … outside the box sometimes!" you whispered to him, an apologising half smile on your face and ears burning a scarlet red, which Heeseung mirrored and finally after a last goodbye, he left and you were alone with Yunjin.

"I'll kill you, Huh Yunjin."

"Fuck."

It's been a few days since that interesting exchange and you've already texted Heeseung about it, being able to sigh a breath of relief when he was cool about it and sparing the trouble of chasing Yunjin around. Soon, with the mountain load of work, it was already Friday night hockey in a blink of an eye.

“You whore! You lying whore," Yunjin hissed, sucking her teeth. "I heard a specific someone is done with hockey boys? Is she in the room with us now?”

You were caught guilty at once, passing Yunjin a dirty look as you pulled Heeseung's jersey over your head. "It just … happened. Oh my God, am I actually in love?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions first, genius," Yunjin poked your forehead. "Do you like him?"

"Yes."

"No hesitation. I've truly lost you to him, huh?"

"You're always my number one, Jen," you rolled your eyes at her antics, picking your stuff up and starting to make your way out to the arena with Yunjin clinging onto your arm.

“But the problem now is who’s going to make the move first?” Yunjin hummed, chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip.

“I’m hoping he would,”

“Why don't you do it?”

“This isn’t the first day we’ve been friends, Jen,”

“Right …”

Being somebody who's afraid of confrontation, you find yourself stuck in the middle. Currently torn between wondering if you were finally ready for something new and worrying if Heeseung would treat you right. 'He's serious about you' rang in your head from time to time and you couldn't lie, you started reciprocating the interest he had in you over time.

"If you like him, just go for him," Yunjin spoke out of the blue after a moment of silence, as if reading your thoughts and sensing something off. "I'm serious, Y/N. He's a nice, genuine guy, and seeing the way he treats you, you deserve someone that gives you their all,"

"Yunjin I'll cry right now," you stopped in your tracks, pouting at your best friend while she could only laugh, throwing her arms around you and continuing to drag you towards the arena.

"Aren't they playing our rival team today?" Yunjin recalled, frowning a little upon realisation. "That means he's there too, no?"

"Unfortunately," you pressed your lips into a thin line, breathing out slowly. "You do remember me telling you that Heeseung and I bumped into him at the party right?"

“Yeah?”

“They’re definitely going to cause a scene tonight, I can feel it in my bones,”

“It’s not that serious,”

“Remember Matthew’s lifelong rival since high school that I’ve mentioned before?”

“Don’t tell me it’s …”

“Heeseung. Small world, right?”

Yunjin raised her eyebrows in surprise, whistling quietly under her breath. "Quite unexpected," she said breathlessly, not realising that you were now already at the arena. "I'd love a fight,"

"You just love chaos,"

"And you're right," Yunjin smiled sweetly at you and you pushed her face away, earning a laugh from her. "Is Heeseung not meeting you pregame?" She nudged your side, raising her eyebrows expectantly with a knowing smirk on her face as she led you down to your usual seats in the arena.

"He did text me…" you said, seeing Yunjin's eyebrows rising higher. "But he said his coach is more strict for today so no pregame meetings,"

"Lame," Yunjin booed.

"He also said he's treating dinner tonight after the game,"

"Not lame," Yunjin switched up and practically almost jumped out of her seat, clapping her hands. "Let's feast tonight. Go team!"

"MAN, I NEED SOME POPCORN FOR THIS,"

Nervousness started creeping up on you as you witnessed the heated start of the game, both teams clashing roughly into one another and fouling left and right. Yunjin was entertained; you were worried and stressed.

"They keep fouling our team and no time outs, you're kidding," you threw your hands up in frustration, noticing other students grumbling as well.

"Are we surprised? Big games are like this," Yunjin shook her head, crossing her arm and leaned back into her seat.

Two periods went by rather quickly, both teams were tied and obvious vexation hung in the air. You noticed Heeseung was practically flying around, chasing the puck with vigor, bumping hard into other players in order to reach the goalpost, but to his dismay, he missed the shot, earning groans from many, you included.

The third period rolled over in a blink of an eye, the tension heightened as the two teams were finding ways to score desperately. Your eyes instinctively followed Heeseung's speeding figure, but something in your stomach told you things were about to turn sour real quick.

Heeseung was zooming across the defenders with ease, guiding the puck towards the goalpost, until a distinct figure, who happened to be the one and only, Matthew, skated up next to him and started causing trouble. You couldn't tell what was exactly happening, but the aggression between the two was getting heavier by each second.

Next thing you knew, Heeseung rammed into your ex, sending him flying to the glass panels, but that wasn't all. Heeseung completely forgo the puck, throwing his gloves to the side and skated up to Matthew, sizing him up.

Both teams were extremely caught off by this sudden fight between them, everyone started panicking the moment Heeseung grabbed Matthew by the neck, but your ex seemed unfazed and continued uttering something to him, leading up to the part where Heeseung punched the latter in the face.

You and Yunjin audibly gasped and so did everyone else in the arena, including the players on the bench and the coaches who were yelling over the noise. Those on the ice made their way to the fight, trying their utmost best to rip the two apart, but Heeseung had his hands practically glued on Matthew, not wanting to let go as he was seen screaming at him.

"I mentioned wanting a fight but not like this …" Yunjin muttered, now standing and occasionally tip-toeing to see what was happening. "Matthew obviously egged him on and pissed Heeseung off,"

"Heeseung has the worst temper on ice, he knew what he was doing," you frowned, getting worried as you watched the referee sending both of them to the penalty box. Heeseung threw his helmet on the floor in frustration, his wet strands of hair sticking onto his forehead.

"Well, at least the team is winning," Yunjin pointed out to the score line, where a glorious 3-2 was showing on the jumbotron. The home team managed to score the winning goal after the game was resumed, taking advantage of the opposition's bewilderment from the fight to mess their strategy up.

The crowd was cheering and jumping, food got scattered around onto the floor and the away fans could only leave in silence. Towards the end of the final period, Heeseung's penalty ended and he joined the team in exiting the ice, face still a little sour as his coach started telling him off.

“You should find him after this,” Yunjin tapped your side and you nodded in agreement, making sure to text him beforehand.

‘Locker room’ was the only thing he texted back and you slowly got anxious, curious as to what had really happened between him and your ex on ice. One thing’s for sure, it definitely wasn’t something good.

You stormed up to the doors of the locker room, heaved a breath of courage and pushed your way in. Lucky for you, by the time you got there mostly everyone was gone, except for Heeseung and Sunghoon, both sitting on a bench, whispering aggressively at one another. That was until Sunghoon caught your approaching figure, giving Heeseung a final word before standing up.

“Y/N,” Sunghoon passed you an awkward smile, a first aid kit in his hands. “I’ll leave him in your hands, I have an appointment with someone now,” he basically thrusted the box into your hands, whispering a quick apology and thanks before scampering away.

You felt helpless and confused as the box sat in your hands, then you started advancing slowly towards Heeseung and soon, you were standing directly in front of him, prompting him to stare up at you, still managing to crack a smirk even when his face looked rough. His left eye was bruised, lips cut and cracked and practically bleeding, his knuckles red and bruised. Overall, he was quite literally a mess.

"You're wearing my jersey,"

"And you're bleeding right now, is that important?"

"To me it is,"

"You're a fool. You have a bruised eye now," you fingers grazed against his cheeks, gaze travelling from one end to the other of his face.

"Do you still think I’m cute?"

"One more word and I'll add a bruise on the other eye," you gave him a side eye and he only responded with a chuckle, patting the empty spot beside him and you complied, sitting down and your shoulder touched his, leaving zero space between the both of you.

“What happened?” you hissed, staring pointedly at him as your hands dug through the items in the first aid kit.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Heeseung grunted, nodding at your actions and you only returned an unamused look.

“I do, now stop avoiding my question,” you hissed, applying some ointment on his knuckles, causing him to flinch in pain, face screwed in discomfort. “What happened, Hee? I saw,”

Heeseung was reluctant, but he gave in eventually, anger evident in his gaze and tone. “It was your ex,”

“I know you are rivals, but you could’ve just ignored him—”

“No, you don't get it, I can’t! He was talking shit about you,” Heeseung ran a hand through his hair in frustration, adam apple bobbing as he tried not to burst out. "'Go back to that slut', 'do you enjoy my leftovers'. I can't just continue playing after the shit he said, there's no way I'll stand there and do nothing,"

"It's okay, Hee—"

"It's not," he huffed, his frown deepened, running a hand across his face. "It's not okay and I wasn't going to let that man call you names and walk free,"

You couldn't resist a smile, your heart thumping against your chest and your gaze softened, placing a hand on his. "Thanks for standing up for me. Really."

"I always will at any time, I care about you, Y/N, and I don't want anything bad happening to you," Heeseung blurted out, his face gradually turning red upon realising his own confession, making sure to seem nonchalant as he switched the topic. "You should've seen his face when I actually punched him. He was all talk only,"

"He's like that, unfortunately," you sighed as you finished wrapping some compressible bandages over his knuckles, whispering a quick 'sorry' when he winced.

“Honestly if you keep pulling these tricks on ice, I might think you’re into me,” you added boldly, referring to the other time where he dedicated a goal to you and he, too, realised the same, the tip of his ears turning a slight red.

“What if I told you I am?”

“Oh, I know,”

Heeseung leaned back, an amused grin plastered on his face. You couldn't tell if he's glad you knew or if he's in horror. "Am I that obvious? Am I too transparent?"

"Well, would you rather me be dumb and not take the hint?"

"Definitely not that," Heeseung leaned back closer to you, letting you clean the small cut on his lips. "I have a feeling someone ratted me out to you,"

"Partially, but I did have a feeling,"

"Motherfucker," he hissed under his breath, then his eyes widened, a look of panic flashed across his face. "So … you know I liked you before this, then do you … like me?"

You rolled your eyes, in disbelief these words were coming from the fuckboy himself. "If I didn't, I wouldn't be sitting here," you were finally done patching him up, placing everything back neatly into the box as he watched your every move. "You're fantastic at hockey but you're terrible at feelings, Hee,"

"I'm easily intimidated,"

"I didn't see you being intimidated while fighting,"

"Intimidated by pretty girls, I mean,"

"How charming," you mused, bumping his shoulder softly. "When and how did it even start, I thought you were the type to fuck around,"

"I've noticed you since English class and after some time, I saw you at my games too. I didn't want to approach you since I was worried you'd think of me differently because of my past—"

"Fuckboy-ness?"

"You could put it that way," Heeseung clapped his hands, leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. "I just liked you. You were funny at presentations, charming, passionate in things you liked. I wanted to get to know you better and after meeting you, it just … clicked,"

"But at the party, why did you even bother asking my name when you already knew who I was?"

"First impressions matter, Y/N. I didn't want to seem like a whole ass stalker,"

"You could've mentioned that you knew my name from English. 'Oh you're Y/N from English', there,"

"Are you teaching me how to flirt?"

"I'm teaching you how to flirt with me,"

"Alright then," Heeseung turned his body to fully face you now, a look of seriousness on his face. "Y/N from English, I like you. So much till the point where I feel suffocated. I don't care if you'll beat my ass after we lose and I'll listen to all of your analysis, will you go out with me?"

"Yes and I like you too, jackass. Now shut up and kiss me already," you wrapped a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in towards you and attached your lips to his, instantly melting against his touch the moment he snaked a hand across your jaw.

You couldn't believe this was happening, it felt like a dream. His lips were soft, the taste of mint on his tongue lingered, the feeling on his lips on yours was intoxicating. He was intoxicating.

Heeseung broke away momentarily, his forehead remained pressed against yours and you could feel his breath against your lips. "You're really romantic, Y/N,"

"You bet," you giggled in between kisses, your hands pushing him back a little as he practically chased your lips like a starved man. "You should go change,"

"Fuck, you're right," he glanced down at his hockey gear clad body. "It's getting late too, I'll drive you back. Want to stop by a drive through? I told you tonight's my treat,"

"I'm down,"

"Let me get my clothes, wait here," Heeseung stood up, ready to walk away but halting abruptly. "Tomorrow night, dinner, is that okay?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"It's whatever you like,"

"Pick me up at 7,"

"On it," Heeseung nodded slowly, taking note of it mentally. "Also, does Yunjin want some food too?"

"If you buy her some, you'll immediately be on her good list, just saying,"

"You two are so alike, it's scary,"

"We're besties for a reason."

IT'S BEEN FIVE MONTHS EVER SINCE THAT NIGHT IN THE LOCKER room. You remembered coming home with Heeseung tailing behind you after, a bag of food in his hands and a welcoming Yunjin greeting him at the door.

"You two finally kissed, didn't you?" Yunjin mentioned carelessly in between bites of her burger and you swore you saw Heeseung's soul escaping his body. "That's the shade of lipstick Y/N wears on the side of your lips,"

Heeseung's hand flew to the side of his lips, touching the spot where you gave him a small peck of encouragement before getting off of the car.

"I'm glad you two are together," Yunjin continued, not noticing the flushed state you and Heeseung were in. "It's been months—oh God, I need to tell Jake this,"

And she did, leading to Jake calling you up the day after where he basically shouted through the phone. Since then, you had a plus one to every football game Jake played in.

"You guys are so annoying," Yunjin grimaced at the sight of Heeseung leaning his head onto your shoulder.

It was currently a Saturday night just after Heeseung's playoff match in which he scored three goals, so now, the team and your friends were at a nearby bar celebrating the victory.

"Stop being jealous," Heeseung defended, dropping his voice and closing in. "That's why I told you to go for Jay,"

"Him? Only God can put up with him, I barely know him and I already couldn't stand him,"

"Someone will eventually," you shrugged, taking a sip out of your mocktail.

"Good luck to them," Jake mumbled, holding his cup up for a toast and downed it all within the next second.

The night ended with a very drunk Yunjin along with many other drunk hockey players stumbling over their feet. Jake offered to take Yunjin home and she could only splutter out some responses, while you and Heeseung went by yourselves.

"If we can win the playoffs, I'll literally explode," Heeseung was currently the happiest man in the world, one hand holding his girlfriend while the other was close to touching the playoff trophy. He could ask for nothing more.

"It'll happen, Hee," you assured, running your thumb across his finger softly. "It's bound to happen, the team is strong. You have to believe my analysis too,"

"Pfft, fairs, your analysis does always hit the spot,"

"See? I'm always right,"

"Yeah yeah," Heeseung chuckled, pulling the car to park once you've arrived at your dorm's carpark and you two just sat there naturally, a sense of ambiance in the air as the radio played quietly in the background.

"I love you,"

Those three words were the first to break the silence. Heeseung looked like he was in disbelief although he was the one who said it first. Meanwhile, you were starting to smile like a fool.

"Did I—"

"I love you too, you idiot," you grabbed his face before he could continue, knowing well he'll end up rambling in the end. You pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, earning a stunned look from him until he eventually returned the favour.

"Was it too soon?" He mumbled against your lips as he gradually pulled away.

"I was actually wondering when you'll crack,"

"Fuck off," he scoffed, squeezing your cheek gently upon seeing your playful smirk. His gaze softened, eyes evidently filled with affection, anyone could literally vouch for how whipped this man was."I love you, stay by me forever, please,"

"Say less, captain."

Hockey boys might've scared you once, but this time, one of them ended up mending your broken heart and won you over instead, and thankfully, he was here to stay. For a long time.

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rwrbficrecs · 2 months ago

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A combined rec list for July & August ❤️

Before This, After That by @orchidscript (book-verse)

@dot524: Henry has a serious horse-riding injury and is in a downward spiral with his recovery until Therapist Alex pulls him out of it. I liked the sharp-edges interaction between them as they fall for each other. I actually read this one a while ago and it was just as good as a reread!

The darkest part of the forest by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@suseagull04: I've loved this entire series, but this was my favorite by far so far! The way the author does world building in her fics is incomparable, even in a fic this short! I would love if she decided to make this a multichapter someday!

Count The Stars and Constellations by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@suseagull04: I've said it once already this month, but it bears repeating: the way the author does world building in her fics is absolutely phenomenal! This one's an outer space saga for the ages, plus it's a multichapter, so we get to see Alex and Henry fall in love over the span of several years, and it's a bit angsty, but absolutely worth it!

An Exquisite Temptation by @tinyarmedtrex (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry became a Catholic priest to escape his homophobic family. Never did he expect to meet a stunningly attractive and equally charming, mouthy Texan who would seriously challenge his devout faith. Y'all can guess where this is headed, right? Delicious in so many ways: emotional, full of ‘80s vibes, angsty, smutty—an absolute masterpiece! Chef’s kiss!

How to get over Henry Fox: A list by dazedandconfused (book-verse)

@na-dineee: This AU is set in 2002, and Alex breaks up with the love of his life Henry. Even though it's clear they’d only be apart for a year, the story is still so gut-wrenching. The hurt and angst really got to me—reading that fic is a challenge, but it's absolutely worth it.

late night devil (put your hands on me) by @nine-butterflies (book-verse)

@suseagull04: The way this author took a 4 chapter fic and gave the world so much history and lore is absolutely incredible! Plus there are so many moments of Alex and Henry's relationship that're reminiscent of the book. Everything about this fic is amazing- and it's also definitely a good fic if you're looking for something for Halloween when it arrives soon!

right there beside him (all summer long) by @theprinceandagcd (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: The winter in Australia had me craving a story with summer vibes and this fic was perfect for that. Loved everything about this fic!!

Interrupted (series) by RadioFriday (book-verse)

@dot524: Henry is diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, just like his dad was. This story follows him and Alex through their painful journey, including the end of it and beyond. Read this if you’re in the mood to have your heart broken, over and over.

the very essence of love by dollarstoreannabethchase (book-verse)

@suseagull04: It's RWRB, but from Henry's POV. The angst of the original is heightened in this (believe it or not, it can be done), but that makes the ending that much sweeter, and I loved the insight into Henry's thoughts!

somewhere in your world by @callmevenji (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Prince Henry, student at Oxford, tries to reach a hook-up gone wrong – and ends up texting someone else entirely: Alex. A deep chat friendship unfolds, while simultaneously Henry begins to fall for the charismatic FSOTUS. Whether it’s the universe at work, coincidence, or fate, the pleasure of reading this heartfelt fic is indescribably beautiful !!

In the Grand Scheme of Things by @itsmaybitheway (book/movie-verse)

@suseagull04: Meet cute at a wedding, instant attraction, intellectual banter- this fic has it all! Plus this is the best AU characterization of firstprince I've seen in a while, it's fantastic!

marked by rizcriz (book/movie-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: a soulmate AU with some extra drama - Henry learns that the reason he hasn't met his soulmate was his grandmother's plotting. Extremely well executed - my heart was breaking and then singing when it all turned out well.

Someday Soon I’ll See You (But Now You’re Out of Sight) by MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays (book-verse)

@dot524: In the mood for some intense angst? I needed like two business days to recover from reading this one. The story is a devastating view of complex grief as different characters deal with Alex’s death. I thought that the odd and asynchronous ways the grief manifests for different people was raw, real, and well done.

peace by @raysletters (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is the Sky High AU I didn't know I needed! I love how this isn't a carbon copy of the movie but uses each character's strengths and weaknesses- and it's also just a very cute magic high school AU, which is just the cherry on top!

Son of a Gun by foux_dogue (book-verse)

@na-dineee: I hope you’ve all read 'It's not a secret' by now? I wasn't aware until it was published, but I needed that follow-up so badly! In this fic, which can be read as a standalone, Alex cuts down his work as a tattoo artist to take care of the kids (good thing Henry is loaded) and inevitably has to deal with the Milton-Saylor Academy Mom Squad. Absolutely wholesome, full of domesticity—just like, excellent!

You Set The Tone by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex is an emergency room doctor and Henry a pediatrician in the same hospital, and their animosity (read: infatuation) with each other began just as unfortunate as in canon. Their gradual coming together, intertwined with the medical emergencies, is wonderfully crafted. The tension is effortlessly maintained over 70k words, never feeling contrived. I was so moved while reading, it hurt phenomenally good, and I cried more than I have in a long time.

pick your poison babe (im poison either way) by sheWritesToLiveVicariously (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Co-workers to lovers with lots of emotion and a touch of angst—it never gets old, right? This 5+1 story is part of the "little moments that pass us by" series, and like all the stories in it, it's rather short, but full of feeling, very soft, and so touching. I'm already looking forward to hopefully many more fics in this series.

Down In The Valley by @aforgottennymph (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: This Stardew Valley AU was such a lovely read and as an avid stardew valley player, I thoroughly enjoyed all the little easter eggs and references to the game. Even if you’ve never played Stardew, this is still such a sweet and delightful read!!

#monthly faves #rwrb fic recs #firstprince fic recs #firstprince #red white and royal blue

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tragedy-machine · 4 months ago

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Payneland fic rec list part 5, NSFW edition

1. For the First Time Twice - Charles gets amnesia and thinks he and Edwin are married, obsessed with this one

2. the spooky thing about penis ouija - modern college au, Edwin starts dating and Charles is peeved because he's supposed to be in love with him, the other guys have no chance, hello?

3. practice your passion on me - mature not explicit, Niko devises a plan - dress Edwin up in a slutty outfit, take him to a club, make Charles jealous, features catwin dancing and flirting together

4. skirts maketh man - Charles supports Edwin through his fashion journey. (And realises some things in the process.), Charles is extremely down bad

5. don't go sharing your devotions (lay all your love on me) - ongoing (1/2) and mature - they accidentally summon an alternative universe Charles, where Charles and Edwin are together, needless to say Edwin is having a time - there's crack in this fic, I'm serious, it made me insane

6. & I need you now, tonight (& I need you more than ever) - Charles gets taken care of and spoiled after being sad

7. What happens in the closet (stays in the closet) - jealous Charles needs to show a pesky client who Edwin belongs to

8. And possibly I like the thrill (of under me you quite so new) - ongoing (11/13), Edwin and Charles start hooking up while Charles works on figuring out his feelings, I'm sure everyone knows this one already

If anyone has a trope they'd like a a few recs for, feel free to drop an ask in my inbox and I'll scour my bookmarks for something for y'all!

(I've shared E rated fics in previous rec lists without extra tags, but lemme know if I should tag this with something specific in case someone wants it filtered out)

#dead boy detectives #payneland #my posts #edwin payne #charles rowland #dbda #dbd fanfic #dbda fic recs #dbd fic recs #tm rec list

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charmandabear · 1 month ago

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La Douleur Exquise

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mildly dubious consent, thigh riding, dry humping, vampire bites, blood drinking, fear play, degradation, modern au

Summary:

You never hook up with strangers you meet in clubs. And this one is a vampire? This may just be the worst night of your life. Or maybe the best. It's hard to say.

An adaptation of @ogyscrypt's erotic audio, "Wait... you like being drained?" The second I heard this I couldn't get Astarion out of my head. Chaboi's vampire kink is STRONG, y'all.

And thank you so much to @wicked-well for letting me use your gorgeous render for the header, it fits too fucking perfectly 🥵

You’re unsure if it’s the thumping bass of the music, or the rakish way he smiled at you from across the bar, or the buzz of alcohol flowing through your veins. Under any other circumstances, you’d be significantly more cautious. Yet here you are, stumbling out of a club with the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen attached to your lips. You paw desperately at his black button down, grabbing his collar to pull him into you. His scent is even more intoxicating than the whiskey sours you’ve been pounding all night – something sweet, herbal and citrusy. If you have any sense, you’ll ask him the name of it.

But that’s not what matters right now.

All that matters is the feel of his body as he presses you up against the brick wall in the alley beside the club. The orange glow from the streetlamps make his white curls almost look golden, the silver hoops in his pointed ears sparkling in the low light. The fingers of his left hand are hooked in your belt loop while the right is tangled in your hair, teasing at the possibility of pulling without giving into the temptation.

He breaks the kiss but keeps his lips close to yours as you both pant heavily, brains addled by lust and blood pounding in your ears. He chuckles, a low rumbling sound that makes your pussy tingle, and flashes that devastating smile.

“Don't get shy now, darling,” he purrs, lightly brushing his fingers over your exposed midriff and sending goosebumps down your arms. “Slide a hand into my shirt, slide a hand into my pants, be adventurous!” He returns his lips to yours, breathing through the kiss, “believe me, I do not mind.”

You take his advice, your fingers fumbling at his buttons and revealing his lean, sculpted chest. His shirt falls open and he rests his forearm on the brick behind you, the delicate silver chain around his neck swinging gently. He effectively has you trapped, and when he widens his smile just enough for two fangs to pop out, you press your lips together to catch the whimper before it escapes.

“V-vampire,” you croak, all sense of logic immediately flushed from your mind. You know that you should be terrified, that you should try to escape, but somehow learning this little fact about your nightclub stranger has only turned you on more.

“Very astute, love, well done,” he sneers, and the sarcasm in his voice makes your throat go dry. “Don't worry, I've known a few people who are into it.” He takes a finger and gently runs it down the side of your face. “I have a way of finding people who are attracted to my… oddities.”

Your tongue subconsciously darts out of your mouth to wet your lips and he lets out a long, contented sigh.

“I do believe you're a special case, however,” he continues breathily, sending a shiver through your core. “I believe that you and I,” he moves his knuckle under your chin and tilts your face up to meet his, “are going to get on like a house on fire. Now come here.”

He fiercely resumes the kiss, grabbing you tightly around the waist and pressing his palm to the skin of your lower back. You slide your fingers through his curls and pull him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him. You turn your head to the side as his lips travel down your jaw and onto your neck, pressing sloppy kisses along the way. This time you're more than happy to let your little noises of pleasure leave your lips, and you can feel him smiling against the sensitive skin below your ear.

“Oh, so you like neck kisses? Well, that’s a given, everyone likes neck kisses,” he giggles as he continues to tease you with featherlight licks and nips. “And I happen to be somewhat of an expert in the art of love bites.”

He captures your skin between his blunted front teeth and worries at the skin, shooting a stinging pain through you. His tongue laps at the tender flesh between his teeth, suckling at it without drawing blood. The overwhelm of sensations sends jolts of lightning through your core and stars dance across your field of vision. Just when the prolonged pain almost becomes too much to bear, he pulls off your neck with a wet pop and leans back to admire his work.

“Just beautiful,” he breathes, running a finger delicately over the purpling flesh. His eyes sharply meet yours as he says with a devious smile. “And don’t think I didn’t hear that moan.”

Your cheeks grow hot as your insatiable lust for this complete stranger – this vampire, a predator that you should absolutely be terrified of – gives you away. But there’s no turning back now. You lick your lips and let your gaze linger on his fangs for a moment before bringing it back up to those crimson eyes. “I like the feel of it,” you whisper, your voice cracking slightly.

“I’m glad,” he says airily before leaning in close to your ear. “Even if it does hurt, just a touch. But the best things do, don’t they?” He grazes his fangs along the thumping artery in your neck, your blood rushing to your head in a mix of arousal and fear. “Every last one of them.”

You can barely rasp out the “please” fast enough before he plunges his teeth into you, the feel of icy shards seizing up the left side of your body. You should be frightened by the pain, but instead it melts into a sublime numbness that sends a rush of adrenaline through your heart. La douleur exquise – exquisite pain. You never fully understood the phrase until this moment.

That’s to say nothing of the obscene noises the man is making. As he sucks long, greedy pulls of your blood, his grunts and groans vibrate through your skin. His breathing grows erratic in your ear, every sigh of pleasure sending a shiver down your spine. He clutches you tightly, one hand protecting the back of your head from scraping against the rough stone. The gesture would almost be tender if he weren’t currently ravaging your neck and sucking your life force right out of you.

And yet… every little twitch he makes, his body pushing against yours as your blood begins to course through his veins, sends your desire to staggering new heights. The perfect pale skin of his chest flushes slightly, and you can’t be sure but you think you might see the front of his pants straining slightly. Perhaps it’s just wishful thinking. Your breathing speeds up as you twist beneath him, trying to get just an inch closer.

“Hold still,” he snarls as he pushes you harder up into the wall. Your breasts heave as your breathing grows shallow, pushing your cleavage into his warming skin. His grunts fall deeper into his chest, growing desperate and borderline animalistic. You’re beginning to lose your faculties as your survival instinct puts all of its resources into just staying conscious, and a wanton moan slips through your lips against your will.

He slows suddenly, his heavy breathing tickling the open wound on your neck before pulling away. “What was that?” he asks in a low voice, your brain swimming as your head lolls to the side. He taps your cheek quickly to bring your attention back to him. “What was that? What noise did you just make?” You did not think your heart could pound harder with the amount of blood you’ve already lost, but somehow you can hear it ringing in your ears. He glares at you dangerously, clearly waiting for an answer.

“What?” Your voice is small, shame and embarrassment mingling with lightheadedness as you try to parse exactly what he’s feeling.

“You heard me,” he spits. “What noise did you just make, darling?” You’re terrified that you’ve made him angry somehow, until a devilish smile curls his perfect bloody lips upwards. “It was a moan. You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” He grins like a cat who’s caught the canary. “Other side, now,” he orders, and you obediently turn your head as his fangs pierce the unsullied flesh and send a renewed sense of arousal ricocheting around your body. A desperate keen works its way out of you, high and needy.

His hand twists in your hair and your hips buck into him, yearning for relief. He pulls you tighter into him, and now you’re positive that you can feel his cock through his tight leather pants. You whimper as he continues to gulp down swallows of your blood, your limbs tingling and your cunt throbbing for him. He laughs into your neck before detaching himself, gently lapping at the gaping holes still pouring blood. He sighs contentedly, licking his lips like he had just indulged in the sweetest cherry pie.

“Just look at yourself. Grabbed by the hair, neck craned aside, in a literal back alley being bitten by a vampire,” he jeers, his tone growing derisive. “And here you are, given away by your little shakes of excitement. Moaning, wantonly, like a whore putting on a performance.”

You pout at him, unsure if you feel more resentful that he sees fit to insult you, or that you kind of like it. He sees the gears turning in your brain and he giggles, a high pitched tinkling sound and a far cry off from the terrifying predator he really is.

“Oh, are you mad at me calling you names?” he coos condescendingly. His wicked grin only grows, showing off your red dripping down his pointed canines. He takes your chin in his hand, examining you, as though he’s appraising the quality of a cut of meat. “I could tell that you were a good one the moment I smelled those broken blood vessels under the skin. The moment I realized that you bled so prettily.”

You press your back into the brick wall behind you, your body giving you signals to run while your cunt clenches around nothing. He runs his thumb over your lips and your tongue darts out to savor him in any way that you can. He slips the digit into your mouth and you suck desperately, wanting to please. His hand cups your jaw and he pulls your face in close to his, the scent of iron hot on his breath.

“Give me another kiss,” he whispers, popping his thumb out of your mouth. “Taste your scarlet crimson on my lips.” He pulls you in for another searing kiss, the salty metallic sharpness coating your tongue and setting off your fear response.

You slide your hands into those white curls with a surprising amount of fervor given how lightheaded you feel. He slides his knee between your legs, lifting you off your toes slightly, the pressure of his thigh giving you much needed relief from the dull throbbing in your cunt. You groan into his lips and deepen the kiss, desperate for him to devour you whole, and he chuckles at your enthusiasm.

“Why do I get the sense that you’ve been dreaming about this?” he purrs, running a finger down your neck and swiping a droplet of your blood. He daubs the red onto your lips and you whimper, your tongue hanging out of your mouth like a lovesick puppy. “Why else would someone react so needily?” You whine and squirm on his thigh, conflicting instincts within you simultaneously trying to convince you to try to escape while craning your neck towards him. He chuckles and licks a stripe up the holes in your neck, pulling a ghastly shiver out of you. “Isn’t this just precious, you pathetic little thing.”

You gasp, once again surprised that the insult causes something in your stomach to flip over. He dives into your neck again and your hands clutch the collar of his button down, pulling him as close as you can physically get. He growls rhythmically in your ear with each swallow of your blood, and you can practically feel his cock sliding in and out of you so strong is your arousal. You claw at his back as you ride his thigh, his ragged breath caressing your hairline and tearing increasingly embarrassing noises from your throat. The pressure building deep within your core signals to you that it won’t be long now, and if he keeps this up you might simply collapse on the spot.

He pulls away panting and you make a strangled noise of frustration at the loss of his fangs. He drags the tip of his tongue up your jaw, transferring a thin line of his spit mixed with your blood onto your skin. He presses his lips to your ear with a low chuckle. “I’ve never seen such positive reinforcement for my illicit behavior. And look at you, practically grinding yourself on my fucking leg.” His voice is scathing but colored by an undeniable tone of amusement.

“Please,” you whine, your lips barely able to form the words. You grasp at him weakly, fighting against the blood loss to beg him to keep drinking so you can finally feel any sort of release.

“Oh, were you about to come? Look at me, slut. Are you actually going to come?” He grabs your chin and forces you to focus your bleary eyes on him. A wicked grin spreads across his face. “Holy shit, you are. You're on the fucking edge, aren't you?”

“Please,” you repeat, your voice raspy. “Please let me, I’m so close, I just need–” He cuts off your begging with a sharp tug of your hair.

“Oh don’t you worry, I will. And here’s what’s about to happen.” He runs his lips over your ear, and his voice has the feel of velvet pushed against the grain. Soft, but still somehow wrong. “I’m going to drain you dry while you rut on my leg like a bitch in heat. And when I let you come, I want you to moan for me in that pretty way you do.” He pulls back and hits you with a piercing red stare. “But I want you crying out my name. And if you do, and if you’re good, I promise, this won’t be a one-time thing.” His eyes are borderline hypnotic, and you find yourself nodding before you realize you’re missing important information.

“And what’s your name?” you ask shakily. His smile widens enough for his pink-tinged fangs to pop out. He brings his lips back to your ear and you shudder.

“Astarion.”

Before you can even process the sound of his name he’s sunk his fangs into your neck once again and you cry out with the pain and pleasure. You paw desperately at his collar as you grind your cunt onto his leg, rapidly building yourself back up to climax. The feel of his tongue lapping at your flesh, the vibration of his satisfied groans, and his heavy breathing in your ear swirl in a sinful mixture of lust and hedonism. Your roll your hips, your slick folds rubbing together and working your clit as the heat begins to spiral outwards. Your little whimpers grow into whines and eventually into full on moans until you finally feel yourself at the edge.

He can feel it, too, and he grunts between gulps, “Good. Good girl. Come for me.”

It’s all you need. “Fuck, Astarion!”

The moment his name leaves your lips he pulls his fangs and leg away, holding you up only by your hair as the waves of your orgasm wrack through your body, the sight of his feral bloody grin only prolonging it that much further. As the ripples of your climax slowly subside, he unceremoniously lets go of you and you slump down the brick wall and onto the dirty ground. He crouches down over you, taking your chin in his hand and forcing your gaze on him.

“Blink twice if you don’t think you’re dying, love,” he coos, his voice almost gentle. You manage a woozy nod, and then very deliberately squinch your eyes shut twice. He giggles and gives your cheek a few taps. He rifles through your pockets until he finds your phone, and picks up a limp arm and forces the phone into your hand. “Unlock code, pumpkin.” You force yourself to tap out the numbers before letting your head roll back to the side.

He pulls up your contacts and hits the plus button. “If you feel like you’re about to pass out, call emergency services. But,” his gaze flicks up to you as he pauses between typing numbers. “Once you feel like you can stumble onto your feet and get home, call this number, and leave a message with your address.” He drops your phone in your lap and gives you another kiss, sensual, his now warm lips moving softly against your cold ones. “And at some point, when I feel like it, I’ll come ‘round to you. And we’re going to do this again,” he kisses you and you can already feel a spike of arousal moving through you. “And again.” Another kiss. “And again.” His lips are wet from your blood, and you shiver as he pulls away, the cool night air sweeping against your frigid limbs. He breathes against your lips, a waft of iron infiltrating your nose. “I’ll see you soon, darling.”

He stands, and as he begins to walk away, you can barely hear him mutter quietly under his breath, “

.” You smile weakly, unable to bring yourself to care that you’re crumpled and satisfied in a back alley, knowing that you’re getting just as much out of this deal as he is.

#astarion fanfiction #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #astarion x reader #astarion/reader #bg3 smut #astarion x female oc #astarion x female reader #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 modern au #astarion one shot #smut

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 2 years ago

Text

The Urge

AN: Beomgyu is a menace, and I have a lot of feelings about him. Told y'all he was going to be next lol. Him and Taehyun are just *stressed noises.*

Synopsis: Beomgyu knew it wasn't right, and he was being a dirty, disgusting pervert but, he just couldn't help himself when it came to you.

Heads up: Choi Beomgyu x Fem! Reader, roommates AU, mostly pwp, Perv! Beomgyu, panty stealing, panty sniffing, scent kink (if that's even what it's called lol. Beomgyu gets off on how Reader smells), masturbation (both Beomgyu and Reader), Dom(ish)! Beomgyu, dirty talk, pet names, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pretty irresponsible unprotected piv sex, Pussy whipped! Beomgyu, vibrator used during sex and creampie.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

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When Beomgyu first met you, he had the faintest feeling that living with you wasn't going to bode well for him.

And he had been proven right as the months had passed.

He thought you were beautiful the moment he saw you, but his attraction to you was only made worse as you two became friends relatively quickly.

Which made him feel all the more guilty every time he fantasised about you. How could he not though? You were ridiculously hot, and Beomgyu was convinced you walked around in as little clothing as possible around the apartment. Your nipples visible through your flimsy shirts and your sleeping shorts, always hugging your ass and thighs in ways that make his blood immediately rush south.

He wondered if your thighs were as soft as they looked. How you'd whine and cry out if he were to spank your ass until you couldn't sit properly for days. Would you let him cover your tits in his his cum?

All these thoughts pushed him to madness. He could barely function around you anymore.

That's how he finds himself in his current predicament, with one of your worn panties in his hands. He knows he's crossing several lines here, but something in him just snapped when he saw them at the top of the laundry pile. Practically begging him to grab them. So, he did.

His hands shake slightly as he inspects them. They're a pretty, pastel pink, and he groans lowly as he imagines them against your skin. His cock already hardening in his boxers. He reaches down to grab himself as he takes his first whiff of you, and the effect on him is immediate. He doesn't need to stroke himself much until he's fully hard, your scent making his mind hazy.

He closes his eyes and remembers that one time he accidentally walked in on you fresh out of the shower. You look mortified and your arms immediately rushed to cover your tits and your pussy but, fuck, Beomgyu saw more than enough. He apologised profusely and immediately rushed out, but he'd never forget the sight of your damp skin and naked body as long as he lived.

He'd never wanted to fuck you full of his cum more than in that moment.

He tries to bite back his sounds of pleasure as he takes another deep inhale of you, his hand stroking his cock faster now as he chases his release.

God, he wishes you were here instead of him having to resort to your panties. He'd die a happy man if you sat on his face and let him lick at you until you fell apart on top of him. He just knew you'd make the prettiest, little noises for him as you came.

Beomgyu bites down on your panties as he cums harder than he has in a while. His cum covering his hand and stomach as he rides out his release. Laboured breathing echoing throughout his bedroom.

When he finally remembers himself, he begins to methodically clean up. Unsure of what to do with your panties, he shoves them in one of his drawers to deal with later.

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Getting off on your panties was definitely one of his more stupid ideas because now he was hooked. Having taken four other pairs every time your scent vanishes from them.

"Hey Gyu, sorry if this is a little TMI, but have you seen some of my panties anywhere? I can't seem to find them, and I've checked the washing machine a million times to make sure I didn't just lose them in there," you ask him one day, looking genuinely perplexed.

Beomgyu's heart is in his throat.

"No, sorry. Can't say I've seen them around," he says with what he hopes is nonchalance. Sweat building on his palms as he avoids looking at the drawer that is stuffed with your missing underwear.

"That's so weird. Thanks anyways," you say, shooting him a soft smile that only worsens his guilt as you leave his room.

When he's sure you're gone, he exhales a long sigh of relief and runs his hands through his hair. He can't keep doing this.

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"Hey y/n, sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if you've seen the-"

Beomgyu's words die on his lips when he realises what you were doing. You were touching yourself.

"Beomgyu! Why didn't you knock?" You practically yell, shoving your blanket over your lower half to preserve some semblance of your modesty. He can still hear the faint sounds of your vibrator under the weight of your blanket. You failed to turn it off in your rush to cover up.

"I uh did. You just didn't hear me," he responds absentmindedly, trying and failing to stop staring at you.

"Well, you can leave now. This is already so embarrassing-"

"I can help you. If you want," he interrupts. At this point, he's convinced that walking in on you twice is some sort of sign. That or he's officially at his wit's end, and he can't bring himself to care. Fuck it.

You looked surprised for a moment, your lips parting. He wants to kiss you until said lips are swollen and bruised.

"Help me?" You ask, sounding as though you're not quite sure you heard him correctly.

"Yeah, I want to help you cum," he responds and finds perverse pleasure in how scandalised you look by his offer.

"I- why?"

"I like making pretty girls cum,"

He doesn't fail to notice how you squirm at that. Biting your bottom lip as you seem to seriously consider his offer. Beomgyu's honestly just happy you haven't slapped him across the face for his audacity.

"Okay," you say so quietly that he's not ever sure he hears you at first, but, as you remove the blanket from your body, he quickly understands what's happening.

Holy shit. This was actually happening.

And fuck, do you look good enough to eat. All you have on is one of those skimpy sleeping gowns that make him want to bend you over the nearest surface and have his way with you. He can see your wetness coating your upper thighs and can already feel himself getting hard.

Hopefully this isn't just an incredibly vivid dream, he thinks as he makes his way over to you.

"Is it okay if I eat you out?" He asks, eyes alternating between your face and the space between your thighs. He can't quite see your pussy but, he's seen enough to want to bury himself between your thighs as long as you'll let him.

His cock twitches at the shy expression that dawns on your face, you avoid his eyes as you give him a quick nod.

He crawls onto your bed, leaning over you as his hand grips your jaw to make you face him, "I'll only say this once, so listen carefully. Whenever I ask you a question, I expect a verbal answer. Is that understood, Princess?"

"Yes," you breathe out, eyes lidded as you try your best to maintain eye contact with him.

"Good," is all he says before he presses his lips to yours, his hand reaching down to grab and knead one of your plush thighs like he's fantasised doing for ages.

He groans as you melt into him, your hands coming up to grab at the front of his shirt. All your little moans and sighs going straight to his cock.

Beomgy is the first to pull back, and he can't help the self-satisfied grin on his face as you chase after his lips. He presses one more soft kiss against your jaw before he shifts downwards to make himself at home between your legs.

He's sorely unprepared for the sight of you soaked and swollen with arousal. His imagination did you no justice. Even worse, your smell. He thought your panties made his mind go hazy, but this? Smelling you directly? Beomgyu can already feel pre-cum smearing the inside of his boxers. He was beyond hard already, and you hadn't even done anything.

"Tell me if you like or don't like something, okay?" He says, looking at you to meet your eyes.

"Okay," you respond, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip once more. If you weren't careful, you might just tempt him to do the biting for you.

Beomgyu presses an experiment kiss to your swollen clit, making sure he has a firm grip on your thighs to keep you in place. He's rewarded with a sharp inhale from above and your hips bucking into his mouth. Well, it seems like you enjoyed that. Fuck, you tasted even better than you smelled.

"You taste amazing," he groans against you, rutting his hips against your bed in search of some kind of relief.

"Th-thank you," you stammer out, your thighs already quivering around him.

He continues to press teasing kisses against your clit, sometimes giving it kitten licks in-between pecks. He knows this isn't enough for you, but he wants to rile you up. He wants to see how desperate he can make you.

His plan seems to work when one of your hands weaves its way into his hair and softly tugs, "Beomie please, don't tease."

The sound of one of your nicknames for him rolling off your tongue so wantonly makes him release another moan against your pussy, his hold on your thighs tightening as he properly laps at your clit. You weren't the only one getting worked up by his teasing.

All your moans and mewls act as fuel for him to continue to lick and suck despite the aching in his jaw, he was determined to make you fall apart and cum on his face. If the increase in pitch of your cries and tightening of your hold in his hair are anything to go by, he's sure he's doing a pretty solid job.

"Gyu I- Ah," you cry out, arching into his touch. Beomgyu is certain he's never had a more erotic experience in his life. He moves one of his hands from its hold on your thigh to tease your entrance with his fingers.

"Your f-fingers, please," you whine out, pressing yourself further into him. Your hold on his hair stinging now as you become more desperate to cum.

He's never cum untouched but, he thinks he could just from this.

He slowly pushes two of his fingers into you, a particularly long moan is drawn from his lips when he feels just how harshly your walls grip his fingers. They practically melt his fingers with how warm and wet you are. At this point, he's full-on grinding against your bed, diligently focusing on you clit while he gives you time to adjust to the stretch of his fingers.

"Move, please," you gasp out, your body shuddering as he gradually moves them. He knows he's struck gold when you thrash against him as he curls his fingers against a sensitive spot inside of you, and he's more than happy to exploit it.

"Beo-Beomgyu, I'm gonna c-cum. Cumming," is all the warning he gets before he feels you completely tense up. Your walls not giving his fingers much room to move as more of your juices gush onto his hand and onto the lower portion of his face. The sounds of pleasure that flow freely from your lips are downright pornographic.

He was right. You did make the prettiest sounds.

He gives your pussy one last kiss before very slowly easing his fingers from you. He doesn't think you've ever looked more attractive. Your hair is a complete mess, and your lips are still parted as you attempt to catch your breath. You look beyond fucked out and, Beomgyu can't help the stroke to his ego that gives him.

"You okay?" He asks gently, shifting to sit up between your thighs.

"Yeah, just trying to catch my breath. I didn't know you were so good at that," you respond, glassy eyes meeting his.

He can't help the smug smirk that spreads across his face, "You could say I have a talent, yeah."

His smirk only widens when you roll your eyes, but don't deny anything he's said. Both of you being acutely aware that that would be a flat-out lie.

Beomgyu shifts to get up and leave, assuming he's finished here, but pauses when he feels one of your hands hurriedly grab his before he can get up from your bed, "Where are you going?"

He can't help but stare at you with wide eyes, "Oh, I thought I was finished here, so I was going to leave."

"But, you're hard. Don't you want to cum?"

What even is his life right now?

"Uh sure but, I didn't know if you'd be up for anything more than me eating you out, and I didn't want to push my luck so -"

He's silenced by you pulling him towards you and pressing an eager kiss to his lips. Beomgyu kisses you back just as heatedly instinctively, leaning into you as your kiss turns sloppy from how worked up both of you seem to be.

Between how desperately you kiss him and how painfully hard he still is, Beomgyu feels himself quickly becoming lightheaded. He accidentally bites your lip when he feels your hand move from holding his to tentatively stroking his cock through his sweats, groaning loudly against your mouth.

"I want to feel you inside me,"

Beomgyu is pretty sure he just blacks out after hearing you whine that.

Pushing you flat on your back once more as he impatiently tugs off his shirt, not paying any attention to how you take in his exposed torso. His sweats and boxers quickly follow suit, letting all of his clothes fall unceremoniously onto your bedroom floor.

"Oh," he hears you quietly breathe out and finally looks at you. You're staring directly at his glistening cock as it twitches in the space between the two of you. He watches your eyes get considerably more glazed over, and you bite your lip once more while your thighs rub against one another.

Beomgyu really fucking hopes this isn't a dream.

"I just want to make sure you're totally okay with this," he says, breaking you out of your trance as he shifts towards you and grabs himself in his hand and lines his cock up with your entrance.

"Yes, Beomie, it's okay," you respond breathlessly, meeting his gaze.

Slowly, he starts to ease into you, and immediately Beomgyu knows he's not going to last long. He's been so hard for so long and not only did he get the opportunity to eat you out and experience you cumming on his face but, he's also getting the chance to fuck you raw. This was all too much. You were too much.

This was probably very dumb and incredibly irresponsible, but he can't bring himself to care.

It's difficult to tell who moans louder when he's eventually fully sheathed inside of you. He can't help but grit his teeth at how harshly your velvety walls grip him. Pressing his face into your neck as he gives you time to adjust to the stretch and himself time to gain some semblance of composure.

He isn't going to cum in a few minutes like some fumbling teenager.

A pained groan leaves his mouth when he feels you begin to squirm underneath him, the minor movement sending shivers down his spine and making his cock throb incessantly inside you.

"You c-can move now," you whisper against his ear, and your breath against the sensitive skin there causes him to shudder briefly before he gradually pulls out of you and thrusts back in. His hold on your thighs becomes bruising now, and the moan you let out isn't exactly helping him.

Beomgyu distracts himself by kissing your neck, paying special attention to the areas that make you arch against him, and keen. Keeping his thrusts relatively slow.

"Beomgyu, faster," you whine, and he closes his eyes briefly to steel his resolve.

How could he ever say no to you?

He begins to pick up speed and, can't help himself from fucking into you harsher than he intended to.

Based on the way you moan and start to claw at his back though, he assumes you don't mind.

He kisses downwards, one of his hands impatiently tugging your nightgown down to allow him access to your tits. Tits that he's fantasised about for ages, and he actually gets to see and touch and taste now.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin ring out obscenely throughout your bedroom as he takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth and eagerly gropes your unoccupied breast. God, everything about you just tastes so addictive.

Beomgyu was getting closer than he cared to admit but, he had to feel you cum around his cock first. He needed it.

He's pulled from sucking and licking at your sensitive nub when you cup his face and press another disorienting kiss to his lips. It's all spit and tongue and teeth, and the coil in his gut only worsens when he realises you're just as into all of this as he is.

Fuck.

Then he remembers.

Your vibrator. He could use that.

His hand blindly reaches out towards your blanket to try and find it, trying to listen for the sounds of the vibrations.

"What're you doing?" You ask breathlessly against his lips.

There it is. He answers your question by bringing the toy up to your face, amusement briefly distracting him from his impending release when you become shy and flustered.

"Why do you-"

"I want you to use it on yourself," he interrupts you.

"Beomgyu! That's - " you flounder, unable to come up with a genuinely reason to refuse his request.

"Why?" You ask shyly, taking the toy in one of your hands.

"Because I think it would be hot," well, he's technically not lying.

"You're such a perv," you mutter, and he's thankful you don't realise just how right you are.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, "A perv who you're letting fuck you."

He groans when he feels you clench around him at his words. Oh, it seems like his sweet, cute roommate really likes it when he talks dirty. Well, he shouldn't disappoint you.

"Well, what're you waiting for?" He asks, picking back up where he left off, hands gripping your hips to make you take every single one of his thrusts.

He immediately tells when you touch the toy to your clit based on the way you arch into him and your pussy grips his cock so harshly he's almost convinced he can't pull out of you.

"What do you think about when you touch yourself, baby?" He half-asks, half-groans against you, your slick walls making him pretty sure he's seeing stars.

"Ah no, that's embarrassing," you whine, your unoccupied hand grabbing his bicep and your nails biting into his skin. Beomgyu wouldn't be surprised if he found scratches from you all over his body.

"If you don't tell me, I'll stop," he hollowly threatens, kissing the skin below your ear as he slows down his thrusts to prove his point.

"No! Fine, I think about you, okay? I think about you," you whine out, drawing quick circles on your clit with the tip of toy, your thighs starting to quiver around him once more.

He moans both from your confession and the way your pussy seems determined to squeeze all of his cum out of him, "What do you think about specifically?"

"You f-fucking me like this, sucking your co-cock," you babble out, your sounds of pleasure increasing in a familiar pitch. Thank fuck you seem close because Beomgyu isn't sure he can last much longer.

"Fuck baby," he groans, your words washing over him as he fucks you faster and harder, his orgasm so close he can practically taste it. He moves towards your lips to pull you into another sloppy kiss.

He bites down on your lip when he cums, his hold on your hips likely leaving bruises in his wake as he holds you to him to take all of his cum. Moaning and whining against your mouth as his body is overridden with shudders. Your walls still clenching around him as his cums, the oversensitivity only making his toes curl harder.

It doesn't take much more for you to follow suit, dropping the vibrator on your sheets when the stimulation becomes all too much. Holding him close to you while your orgasm renders you mostly immobile and fresh wetness gushes onto his cock and balls and onto your sheets.

Beomgyu leans rests his forehead against your shoulder while he catches his breath, feeling a little sleepy as he cuddles against you and your hands alternate between rubbing his back and playing with his hair.

He knows he should probably pull out of you and get off of you, and that you two should probably talk about all of this but, you're just so soft and comfortable that he can't help himself from drifting off a little bit.

#choi beomgyu smut #beomgyu smut #txt smut

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boxofthings · 1 year ago

Note

got any roach-centric fic recs? like idc the pairing, ghostroach/soaproach/ghostsoaporach any thats roach focused plzz

*cracks knuckles* I GOTCHU ANON this is my time to shine

If anyone wants to reply with their own pls do!

(These are in no particular order)

GhostRoach:

i left my heart in the mountains (right next to yours)

I'm going to want you 'til the stars evaporate

and here i stand (in the dirt with you)

These are all by Santihan and ugghh these were the fics that pulled me back from my near decade-long ghostroach obsession sabbatical. Well-written, emotional, they are amazing, my favs, I will rec these til I die (the first two are painful :'))

Things That Burn by abel_obel

Such a good one, I always go back to this when I'm in a ghostroach mood. Good ol' classic person A gets injured and person B freaks out

Roach Wouldn't Really Do It...

Exhaustion's a Funny Thing

Both by tinyduckies! Def read the TWs for the first one, but arghhh, I go back to these ones a lot!. I really like how the first one's more realistic/gritty when it comes to the aftermath of surviving Loose Ends

Second one's just a lovely depiction of Ghost and Roach's dynamic. Loved the banter and the second chapter ends real sweetly :)

The Barracks: Part 2

Ulterior Motives

Both by doberman, these two are much longer fics (which ghostroach is in desperate need of) and are such interesting reads!!

The first one is an AU that takes place in a pub with Ghost being his repressed, unhealthy self, and Roach coming in as the new co-worker to sweep him off his feet lol

The second one is ongoing and takes place slightly after MWII with Ghost meeting Roach outside of deployment

Sovereign by Applescone

God, this one really puts me in an introspective mood. It's so well-written and just feels so grounded and human. Takes place years after Loose Ends, with Ghost and Roach rekindling their relationship whilst dealing with the complications of Shepherd's betrayal and death

我给你早在你出生前多年��一个傍晚看到的一朵黄玫瑰的记忆 by Alex_Upshur

Ok I know this is in Chinese, but just use a translator like I did and yeah, while it won't be as accurate as the author wrote it, it's still a really lovely fic and i adore it :') A lil bittersweet look into the 141's lives and sweet moments with Ghost and Roach <3

Of Doubts and Dreams (Retold)

The Hook Up

All written by Call_Of_Booty, an og ghostroach author from wayyy back during the og trilogy (and ff.net) days. The first one's a rewrite of one of their old fics and it focuses on Roach and Ghost's dynamic up until the night before Loose Ends.

Second one's about Roach deciding to leave the SAS whilst he and Ghost have complicated feelings for eachother due to past hookups. Both great reads!

Distance Makes the Heart Pissed Off by krwaken

I'm sure every GhostRoach shipper knows this one lol. A lovely 200k word slowburn of these two <3

Fear & Delight by EpiKatt

Hornet's Nest with more GhostRoach :))

Tell Me Why This Has to End by Feral_Raccoon

ANGST :( Post-Loose Ends. Ending broke me haha

and you wrote your name / right there next to mine by cheese_n_crack

more Loose Ends angst :( A bittersweet ending with Ghost and Roach looking at the stars in their final moments

You'll Get Sick Anyways by ghostslefttit

Very short, but very cute lil fic with Ghost taking care of a sick Roach :))

If We Crash (I Hope We Do) by mintyiecat

Man I can't even begin to describe how much I love this one. Portrays Ghost and Roach's relationship post-loose ends where Roach is now a civilian. Loved how the author depicted their relationship as not flawless. Felt very human and raw. Very sweet ending :)

GhostSoapRoach

Something in the Orange by fixfoxnox

Y'all been knew this would be on here lol

Follows Roach's pov where he's been reincarnated into the reboot timeline with all his memories from his old life and him trying to make his way back to Ghost. This one makes me sad as hell. Has all the feels :')

Something in the Orange by insomniamemoirs & RandomWordsAndStormyDays

Funny how my top two GSR fics are named the same thing, but hey, they're both amazing. I was apprehensive because of the "calling Soap Roach by accident" trope, however they really diverted my expectations and made these three really feel like equals in a relationship. Really love how they made sure to establish a strong dynamic between Soap and Roach instead of pitting them against each other. And Roach isn't just some 2D character here, he's very nuanced and I love it!

Freezing Waters by AmphibianEft

Sweet fic of Roach getting injured and Soap and Ghost freaking out and taking care of him

Stress Relief by Anonymous

Just Soap and Ghost taking care of Roach after Hornet's Nest (smut) :)

SoapRoach

Leg Day by tinyduckies

Good ol' smut lol (09 soaproach mm)

Everything That Isn't Said by pajamabees

More 09 smut

Taste by fixfoxnox

Just 3.5k words of Roach wanting to kiss his captain :)

fall for me by punishervest

Just a sweet moment between 09 Soap and Roach with Soap reminiscing on his past with Price but also considering how he wants something more with Roach <3

She (Means Everything To Me) by mylareading

Just 1.9k words of Soap being down bad for Roach (super sweet)

Roanig (Roach x Konig)

I Really Like The Way You Stare At Me by turqu0ise

The fic that introduced me to roanig <3 Just a cute fic focusing on the development of their relationship

Subatomic by tinyduckies

Another nice fic focused on the development of their relationship. Loved the interactions they had in this :)

These are the ones I have so far! I'm sure later on I can add to the list, and if anyone wants to reply with their own feel free :)

I've also been made aware there are Keegan/Roach fics, but I haven't gotten around to reading them yet, but def check out their tag anon! Hope this was an adequate rec list haha

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highvern · 1 year ago

Text

Teach Me III

gold star

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader

Genre: smut, humor, college au, frat!svt

Warnings: cream pie, unprotected sex, cowgirl, squirting, inexperience!dk, experienced!reader, mentions of drug use (weed) and alcohol , oral (f. receiving), cum swallowing, spitting, fingering, making out, strength kink bc he's hot, minor overstim at the end but he's just enthusiastic, fwb, DK is a munch pt 2

Length: ~4.1k

Note: finally done! I’ve been working so much and this has been like the boogie man lmao part 4 is outlined so it'll probably be another week or two? lemme know what y'all think!!

read more here

[Thursday 10:26AM]

Lee Sock-mint: Did you get your exam back yet 👀👀👀

You: yep

You: you?

Lee Sock-mint: Yep

You: what’d you get

Lee Sock-mint: What’d YOU get

You: i asked first

Lee Sock-mint: Well I asked second

Lee Sock-mint: I got an A tho

You: HOLY SHIT

You: twinsies ♥️

Lee Sock-mint: HELL YEAHHHHHH 🔥🔥🔥🔥

That Night Approx. 8:27PM, Dokyeom’s bedroom

“Ohhh—-just like that!”

Obscene echoes of your sopping pussy fill the room as Dokyeom stuffs you with two long fingers, curling them upward searching for the spot he found a few days ago that had you crying. Bent between your spread legs, he’s praying at the altar of your body; tongue tracing along the inside of your thigh where it lays over his shoulder, biting a bruise into the delicate flesh. The hand not gloved in your cunt squeezes the plush flesh of your opposite leg, using the leverage to spread you out. A choked moan from your body bends your back as you attempt to suffocate him in your thighs.

In the few weeks you’ve been hooking up, Dokyeom has proven to be nothing less than a model student.

Even your first “tutoring session” had been incredibly fruitful. After you sucked out his soul through his dick, he spent an hour learning the ins and outs of your pussy.

The next few times Dokyeom begged you to show him exactly what you liked; quickly acclimating to him staring at your folds while you touched yourself, making yourself come before giving him time to mimic and perfect his technique. Once he gained enough confidence to start experimenting on his own, his progress soared beyond your expectations.

Despite earning the right to brag, he didn’t; still sheepish around the entire arrangement. But even with his shy demeanor, you knew he was incredibly happy with himself due to the one piece of evidence he allowed to exist. On his phone, hidden in a secret locked notes app, Dokyeom recorded his best times like a leader board.

From fingers: 10.33

From mouth: 7.57

From DK Jr. : 15.23 missionary, 11.57 doggy, 9.48 on top

The first time he showed you, you almost smothered him with his own pillow. The fact he was timing your hookups striking a cord in your gut that you couldn’t name; along with the knowledge that he refers to his dick as DK Jr.. But he managed to sooth your irritation with sheepish smiles and flattering praises.

Since then you’ve begun to find it endearing, especially when he shows you the other note that has all the things he wants to try with you. Positions, places, activities; tiny check markets dotting across the list they’re knocked out one by one. Your favorite so far was his desire to fuck you with other people nearby; fulfilled by Dokyeom pulling you into a cramped bathroom at another on one of his frat parties, flipping up your skirt and pushing aside your panties as he bent you over the sink to stretch you full of his cock. It was a testament of your will power to be quiet enough that no one from the party heard how good he gave it to you; aided by the same fingers currently in your cunt being shoved in your mouth to quiet your moans.

But tonight you’re pulling from your own perverted bucket list. As his reward for doing so well on the exam, you’re planning to let him fuck you raw; the vision of him spilling inside your cunt making you vibrate with excitement.

Nothing like a little positive reinforcement for the both of you.

“Taste so good,” he mumbles against your folds, entranced by how you squeeze around his fingers.

Dokyeom doesn’t know what you have planned yet, simply agreeing to your request for a post-study session hookup; but, imagining the look on his face after he finds out makes you gush against his tongue.

“Need more,” you whine, nails raking against his scalp as your hips roll against his mouth.

His fingers pick up their tempo as his mouth latches to your nub. Unlike the first time, he gently sucks it between his lips, focusing on allowing the tip of his tongue to coax against the bundle nerves.

“Don’t stop,” you sob, flailing on the mattress. “please! Gonna cum—“

Eyes crossing at the scorching slide of Dokyeom’s tongue against your clit, his hand pushes deeper before spreading his fingers apart. He finally catches the spongy patch of flash he’s been searching for, curling the tips of his middle finger against it rapidly.

“Fuck— I’m gonna, I–” you choke words catching in your throat as you snap.

Dokyeom doesn’t stop, doesn’t alter a thing except for opening his eyes to watch you come alive above him. His absolute favorite part of your frequent hookups is watching you; the way can’t hide how much you like this; how much you like him doing this.

Head dipped forward to your chest, eyes sealed shut, brow pinched tight, nose wrinkled, and jaw dropped in a long ‘O’ as you sing your pleasure. It’s permanently etched into the back of his eyelids since the first time he witnessed it but he never tires of watching it happen in real time. On the rare occasion he’s alone and you’re busy, it’s all he needs to think about to get himself off with record speed.

Dokyeom really really really loves making you come.

And after the semester you’ve had, he revels in the fact he can take your mind off everything; if only for a little while. You work harder than anyone he knows, balancing academics, extracurriculars, a social life, and a million other things. The admiration he feels deep in his chest, suspiciously close to his heart, drives him to pamper you.

And tonight, courtesy of your high marks, he plans to have you come till tears run down your face.

When your tremors subside, he licks a fat strip up your slit, tongue flat and firm before focusing on your clit once again as he sinks a third finger into your cunt.

“Minnie please!” you beg, the breathless crack of your voice an empty plea he can’t find himself caring about.

A swat against the meat of your thigh is his only warning for you to hold still, “You can take one more.”

“Too much.”

“Come on pretty girl, give me another. You deserve it.” Dokyeom replaces his mouth with his hand, fingers rubbing harshly at the raised nub as he pins you with a look. Your hips buck once again as he spits on his fingers curling into you, adding to the vulgar mess.

“I can’t!”

“Yes. You. Can.” each word punctuated with a drive of his fingers, coaxing more of your essence out of your leaking hole, coating his hand and dripping down his wrist to the sheets.

The gleam in Dokyeom’s eyes when he’s like this is unlike the usual persona he embodies. Demanding and expectant, because of course you’ll come for him again. Why wouldn’t you? He happily gives you exactly what you need to keep wallowing in mind numbing pleasure for as long as you like. Who are you to say no to such generosity?

“Oh fuck, fuck, I’m—”

Your hands nearly rip the bed spread underneath you, feet kicking out as your eyes squeeze tight against the fireworks erupting across the darkness. It's unlike any orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Stomach tightening, a thin sheen of sweat breaks along your exposed skin. Squeezing around the repeated press of his hand, a renewed gush of arousal coats his fingers. Everything is hotter. Wetter.

The spray of liquid against mouth shocks him for a moment, but as Dokyeom realizes what he’s done he turns feral.

“Holy shit.” he whines, lapping up everything you’re giving him, tongue wild and desperate. His own hips rock into the bed, curling his cock against the friction of his boxer in search of relief. You're both soaked, your essence and his spit dripping from his chin to his chest as he drools into the mess. Dokyeom planned to give you a breather after you came again but now nothing exists outside of your wrecked pussy and the smear of your arousal coating his face.

Nose scrunched against the over stimulation, tears sting your eyes. Sobbing for him to give you a moment, a second, to collect your thoughts. You're floating, barely tethered to the bed where his digits curl. But Dokyeom doesn’t listen. Tongue splitting your folds, tracing around his fingers still plunged inside your pussy.

Tangling your hands in his hair, you give a firm tug to disconnect him from your worn cunt. Despite the shortcircuiting pleasure still flooding your veins, the vision of your fuck buddy, pink tongue licking his lips, chin dripping and eyes hooded, awakes a hunger deep in your soul.

“My turn.” you growl.

Pulling him up your body, you waste no time connecting your lips. The heady taste of yourself infiltrates your mouth as you pant into his mouth, but you don’t mind as you continue to tease, the erotic slide of muscle against muscle consuming your focus.

Without disconnecting your lips, you push him until his back meets the sheets; pinning him in place once his boxers are gone, settling over his thighs. Urgently collaring his stiff length in your hand, the rigid velvet sits hot and heavy, head flushed and damp. You skim the tip through your folds, collecting the combination of juices, his own pre-cum adding to the mix before spreading it down his shaft. You gasp into Dokyeom’s mouth when the puffy head grazes your clit, giving a firm squeeze before letting go. Allowing it to slap against his belly before planting yourself on top, grinding against the underside of his cock; the red tip visible at the top of your folds, pearly beads of his cum dripping onto his abdomen with each desperate lerch.

“Oh fuck—” he whimpers.

Propped on his elbows, all Dokyeom can do is watch the hand you’d been using to play with him move to your mouth, sucking your dripping fingers into your mouth, moaning at the taste. He pulls you by the back of your neck to his mouth, echoing your whimper as he tastes the erotic mix himself. Your hips continue to grind against him, tilting yourself forward to force the tip of his cock to snare against the ring of muscle at your entrance. Barely an inch enters you before Dokyeom curls his hips away, smacked in the face by the realization of what you’re about to do.

He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, mouth parted around stuttered breaths. An expectant look greets him, hunger flashing like lightning in your eyes. Dokyeom swallows thickly, mouthwatering at the very real chance of seeing your cunt coated in his seed. Filled to the brim, leaking down your thighs.

The fantasy is short lived as a rush of fear zips down his spine. He’s about to fuck you raw. In his favorite position. After you squirted on his face. If he can last more than a few strokes it’ll be a miracle.

Never able to hide his emotions, you catch the worry clouding his face, eclipsing the lust present seconds ago.

“You okay?” you breath, pausing to give him a reprieve.

“Great.”

“Minnie…”

“s fine.” He mumbles words under his breath.

You dodge his attempt at reconnecting your lips, refusing to let him distract you from whatever popped into his head. Shuffling back, you move further down his thighs and away from his crotch. You don’t understand the sudden shift in his demeanor but going any further seems like a mistake.

Dokyeom’s shoulders meet the bed as his elbows give out. Staring at the tiles of the ceiling, he tries to find the right words to tell you what he’s thinking. Shame thickens his throat like wet sand, preventing him from speaking but you just wait above him patiently. The comforting sensation of your fingers gently tracing the back of his hand gives him focus.

Closing his eyes, Dokyeom steels himself with a breath.

“Just need a second.” He whispers.

“Okay,” you whisper back.

Only the humming fan in the corner fills the silence between you. Dokyeom knows you’re watching him, cataloging every twitch of his lips and fully bellied breath. The skin of your thigh is soft under his palm, the warmth calming his nerves as he gently traces shapes into the dip above your knee with the pads of his fingers. The gentle press of your lips on his cheekbone startles him before your nose brushes against his own.

“What’s going on up there?” You gently ask, one of your fingers brushing his temple.

Eyes fluttering open, he’s met with the endless depths of your as you lean back a few inches to meet his gaze. The fondness softening your face reminds him that of all people, you’re the last that would laugh at him about this. You’ve literally seen him at his lowest, yet look what came out of that? If there’s one person he can be honest with, it's you.

“Might come.” Dokyeom sighs, looking at you with nervous eyes.

You’re dumbfounded. Utterly, and truly shocked. He just made you come twice, and he’s anxious that getting some satisfaction himself will somehow disappoint you. You want to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation but you know your first hookup is still a sore subject for him.

Ducking back down to leave a reassuring peck on his lips, you grin at him.

“That’s okay. Take all the time you need.” Leaning back up you see the embarrassment still clouding his features, racking your brain for a way to cut the tension. “I’ll just keep myself occupied.”

Dokyeom’s eyes flash at your words, curious at their meaning. Pushing up on your knees, one of your hands moves back to the apex of your thighs. You don’t grab for his cock still nudging you; instead, you collect the sticky mess smeared between your legs, middle finger dipping inside just a hair before coming back to your clit. Teasing gentle circles around it, your breath grows uneven, hips stuttering forward in search of more.

Shit.

Dokyeom is lost in a daze; licking his lips as you touch yourself, eyes glued to the digits swiping across your cunt. He’s still heavy and hard, the flared head of his cock glistening from its brief plunge in your depths. You can’t take your eyes off it, nearly drooling from desire to have him split you open.

“Fuck.” you whine, wishing the calloused pads of his fingers were working you instead. Ever since your little arrangement started, your fingers have become a distant second to his slender ones.

Your show isn’t helping stave the rising orgasm building in Dokyeom’s core. The exact opposite really, fanning the flame to a near inferno. The sight of you getting off, the sounds of your soaking cunt, the taste still on his tongue, the feel of you dripping on his muscular thighs. Even the smell of sex permeates through his tiny bedroom, clogging his nose like a musky perfume.

Fuck it. He thinks. If he blows his load before making you come again he’ll just have to make it up to you. How awful.

Dokyeom’s hand brushes yours away, thumbing your clit as two fingers stretch to prod your entrance again. If he can work you up enough before he’s inside you he’ll at least have a fighting chance.

“Wanna feel you inside me, Minnie.” You demand, using both hands to squeeze your breast. Dokyeom pants at the sight of your nipples peeking out between your fingers, bruised from his teeth.

Maybe you’re playing it up for his ego but you've truly never been so desperate. Greedy for pleasure even with the orgasms he’s already coaxed out of you, and on the horizon is the promise of a third. Being so close to getting railed the way you need but just out of reach is sending your mind into a tailspin. To make matters worse, Dokyeom seems just as eager to give it to you.

“Yeah? Want me to stuff you with my cum?”

“Yes! Need it.”

Shuffling back into Dokyeom’s lap, you sink down onto his cock in one motion, pushing the air from your lungs as he threatens to tear you in half. The burn from his girth races up your spine to add to the mind numbing sensations consuming you.

Tangling his arms behind you back, Dokyeom plants his feet on the bed to fuck up into you at a brutal pace. He’d never complain about fucking you with a condom but with out one? The silky stretch of your pussy, sweltering and soaked, is the closest to heaven Dokyeom’s ever been. Every squeeze around him pulls him in further, the head of his cock fitting snugly against your walls.

Your own hands find wobbly purchase beside his head, your chest aligns perfectly with his mouth to suck and lick against your breasts. Desperate pleas rushing to fill join the mess of noises rising from your bodies.

Your essence coats his cock, dripping down his balls as the clap of skin echoes in the room. Each thrust forces another whimper from your throat, the vulgar thought of your cunt dripping with evidence of him racing you to another orgasm.

“Gonna cum,” Dokyeom groans beneath you. The rasp of his voice sends your hips to meet him thrust for thrust.

“Please! Want it—” you bawl. “Want your cum.”

His head lulls back as you beg, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your sides to lock you in place. His thighs burn from exertion but he keeps going, the familiar twitch in his gut telling him to go deeper, harder. Something primal whispering in his brain to brand you with his seed, mark you as his. The way you clench around him adding to the call.

“Fuck, just like that.” You keen when he thumbs your worn clit. His other hand wraps in your hair, pulling to bare your neck for his mouth.

You feel the twitch of his cock deep inside you, and he gives you a few more thrusts before painting your insides. The sharp sting of teeth ripping the wind out of your lungs, pulling you down with him.

Using his chest for leverage, you lean back and ride him through it, reveling in satisfying fullness. Dokyeom’s eyes fall to your tits, pressed alluringly between your arms and swaying with each bounce on his sputtering length.

Gasping in each other's arms, Dokyeom keeps curling into you till he’s spent. Cracking open his eyes to take in the bliss painting your face before sneaking a peak to where you’re connected. A ring of white coats his length where he enters you, trickling down to the smattering of curly hair at his base. His cock gives a pathetic twitch of interest but that's all it manages with how hard he just came.

Collapsing onto his chest, you nuzzle against his neck. “That was…”

Great, wonderful, spectacular, best orgasm he’s ever had in his life. But no word seems to fit exactly how Dokyeom is feeling right now. When he finally can feel his body again, wraps his arms around you to keep you firmly planted against his chest, one hand moving to scratch your back soothingly. When you clench around him, Dokyeom realizes he’s still inside, softening length allowing a flood of cum to trickle out.

“Are you staying tonight?”

“Nah,” you roll off him to stretch, letting the satisfaction only a good fuck can bring settle in your muscles. “Gotta be up early.”

“I can walk you home.” He offers over his shoulder, shuffling to his closet to dress for the night.

“It’s only like nine, I’ll make it home just fine.”

“My mom would kill me if she found out I let you walk alone this late.”

Rolling to your stomach, you watch him pull on a hoodie. “Wow so it's not even you being considerate, just wanna hypothetically save your own skin.”

“I’d be worried too.”

“Fine, but at least put on some real pants.”

“What's wrong with my pants?”

The pointed look at the flannel Simpson pajama pants says it all.

“Fine.”

In true Seokmin fashion, the next five minutes are spent huffing and puffing as he digs for a suitable pair of sweatpants to wear for the short walk to your dorm. You receive several pointed looks and a final “hmph!” as he finds a pair he deems worthy. At least he makes good use of his theater classes.

“Alright, let's go!”

The walk to your dorm zigzags through the busiest parts of campus, and as such despite the late hour, you and Doekyeom run into friend after friend. Most are headed off campus to take part in thirsty Thursdays at the bars just blocks away. A few scampering home from the library, surrendering to the exhaustion that comes post-midterms.

Of course, Dokyeom’s roommate is in the mix.

“Hey! What are you guys doing out?” Soonyoung’s question is innocent but the way he yells it across the courtyard you're currently passing through snags the attention of a few other students.

“Just walking her home.”

“How sweet.” The older man coos. “By the way, what’d you get on the practical?”

“One hundred.”

“No shit!” Soonyoung high fives you. “So did Dokyeom. Wait…are you guys going to celebrate?”

The wiggle of Soonyoung’s eyebrows make him look like he’s having a stroke.

“We already did.” You smirk as Dokyeom gapes like a fish, red as a tomato.

All you can do is shrug. It's crazy the same man next to you was drilling your guts less than an hour ago, but the proof is still pooled in your panties.

“Anyway! What are you doing out?” Dokyeom asks, eager for a subject change.

“Didn’t do too hot but the TA said I can get half credit back if I do test corrections.”

“Ahh. So it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that the girl you have a crush on has a shift in the tutoring labs on Thursdays?”

“You told her?” Soonyoung turns on Dokyeom, eyes wide.

“You told me, idiot.” You cut in.

“Oh! Well maybe that's part of the reason but Minhyuk said he’ll only give me till Monday morning so it's a happy coincidence.”

“Well good luck!” You call, taking a step in the direction of the dorms.

Soonyoung calls you back before your foot hits the sidewalk.

“Oh, by the way, are you coming to the cabin with us next week? We’re trying to figure out cars right now and need a headcount.”

“What cabin?”

“It's SBT’s mountain weekend!” He announces before turning to DK. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Ugh,” the still blushing man chokes.

“Well, this is awkward.” Soonyoung winces, slowly backing away. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Discomfort swirls around you and Dokyeom as you return to your original path. You’d spent enough time around frats to know they spent a weekend at some old cabin deep in the mountains each fall, drinking and smoking in excess. Traditionally, its invite only, a plus one for each fraternity brother. An upperclassman in MX, Jooheon, had brought you to his own your freshman year. The shiny allure of spending a weekend with a hot guy quickly dulled by the reality of fifty plus people cramming into a shoddy building to fuck and get drunk wasn’t as fun as it sounded on paper. To this day, you still can’t get the horrible wails of the girl Minhyuk had brought. It's why Soonyoung and DK attend the lecture he TA’d at a normal hour and you braved the horrors of an eight AM.

It shouldn’t matter that Dokyeom hadn’t asked you, or how he didn’t even bother to mention it in passing. The relationship between you is nothing more than two acquaintances who hook up. Frequently. At its core, you’re his friend who occasionally tutors him in anatomy. Why would he ask you to stay with him for a weekend? Why would you be upset if he didn’t?

And yet…

“I completely forgot it was even happening.” Dokyeom shares quietly.

“It’s really fine!”

“I mean if you wanted, you could come with?”

“Already have plans. Sorry.”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

Fortunately the awkward conversation is cut short as you approach the lobby of your dorm. You’ve never been happier to see the tacky green walls beyond the glass door lined with old campus flyers.

“Thanks for walking with me.”

Dokyeom looks like he wants to say more but before he can speak you’re turning around and marching inside. You don’t catch the way he stares at your retreating figure, only leaving the way he came once you're firmly out of sight.

#svthub #lee seokmin #lee seokmin x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt #dokyeom #seokmin x reader #seokmin smut #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom smut #🫡 highvern

409 notes · View notes

oh-meretseger · 8 months ago

Text

part 7 - Date Me

attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

notes: fluff (your first date🥹) with a little more dialogue with the others <3, kind of 18+! [a prequel to the smut that comes in the next chapter hehe], explicit language, making out, groping, dry humping

word count: 5,3k

"Look, I know him. I can see he adores you. You shouldn't worry about it" Sasha glanced up at you for a second, then turned her attention right back at the work she was crocheting, comfortably propped up by a bunch of her fluffy pillows.

"I just— I thought the same when I talked to Marco, but he's been avoiding me like the fucking plague"

"Oh my god, quit being so dramatic" Ymir rolled her eyes with an insufferable agony on her face. She wasn't the most supportive when it came to boy drama, but you still considered her a good friend after this short time you've known her - so when she came over to your dorm on her way to meet up with Historia, you decided to cry out all your pent-up frustration to the girls. "I just saw you two talking after morning class"

"AND he literally agreed to the movie night with us tomorrow, just us three" Sasha added.

"Yeah but— Y'know, I mentioned the night of the party and he instantly changed the subject" you replied quietly as your eyes dropped to your lap. "He doesn't even look at me like it happened, he doesn't joke with me or touch me—"

"What, do you expect him to finger you in front of the whole class?" Sasha frowned, pointing at you with her crochet hook.

"EEWWW" Ymir yelled out, wrinkling her freckled nose in utter disgust, and you shook your head as you tried to bite back your chuckle. You kinda started to regret telling them.

"NO, but— do you understand what I'm saying?"

"No" Ymir bluntly replied as she kept pushing herself off the desk, spinning on Sasha's swivel chair with an ungodly speed.

"I do, but again, I don't think he feels any differently about you" Sasha said without looking up from her work. "Just talk to him, pookie"

"For real. Y'all are like two mentally handicapped middle schoolers" Ymir pulled a face at you, then looked up at the ceiling, opening her arms theatrically. "Just kill them, dear God, don't make them suffer anymore"

"Get lost" you grinned as you grabbed the closest pillow on your bed to toss it right against her head. "You're right though, I should've just initiated... Jean's just always so straightforward, him being so awkward about it catches me off guard"

It's almost been a week since Connie's party and as soon as you ran into Jean on Monday, something instantly felt off. 'Missed my dumb ass?' you asked and he looked away sheepishly 'I don't really miss any body parts', seeming flustered before swiftly changing the subject to civil law (ok, great move, Jean). You had no idea what could be going on, you've never seen Jean being so awkward. Maybe even embarrassed. But why is he embarrassed? Maybe he regrets it..?

Even though you were originally the one to kick against the vulnerable moments happening between you two, you still felt like your subconscious hopes were shattered into pieces.

"Pfft, awkward" Ymir snorted. "I still can't believe the king of arrogance himself is acting sheepish about this shit"

"He's not arrogant" Sasha smirked up at her and you smiled. Kind of the same conversation happened between you when you were the one despising Jean's cocky attitude, just a few months ago. "You just don't know him that well"

Ymir huffed condescendingly.

"Who knows anyway what them stupid men have sloshing around in their ugly skulls" she grimaced as she momentarily stopped spinning, hugging her pulled up knees. "Instead of a brain"

"Jean has a pretty skull though" you pouted, but you knew there was no use arguing. You could point your finger at any man, and Ymir would wrinkle her nose in disgust at every one of them.

"Bruh" Ymir glared at you. "That man looks like a ponderosa pine with limbs, you're a dumbass for crying about him"

"BAHHHAHAHA" laughter bursted out of Sasha uncontrollably, and you stared at her squeezing her eyes, mouth wide open as she screamed hysterically, as if Ymir just dropped the most hilarious joke on planet Earth.

"What on earth is a ponderosa" you gazed blankly, then scoffed at Sasha as she wiped her tears. "And what the hell are you laughing at? A few days ago she told you Niccolo looked like a dumpling with a blonde mop on top of it"

"I like dumplings" Sasha shrugged as her shoulders shook with laughter and a satisfied grin grew on Ymir's face.

"See?" Ymir raised her eyebrow at you, then started pushing herself again to get the swivel chair to reach a space shuttle's centripetal force. "I think you should quit thinking about his praying mantis lookin' ass, like, altogether"

A small chuckle bursted out of you but you tried your best to bite it back, wanting to keep the situation serious, even though Sasha was still wheezing in the background.

"What? He should actually be grateful a girl like you let him touch her princess parts" Ymir sneered at you scornfully. "I mean, I'm not trying to judge your taste in men, but girl—"

"Yeah, I can see that" you grimaced at her. "You're not judging, I'm just naturally attracted to pine trees and you support my fetish"

"Hey, all the way" Ymir started spinning herself the other way. "If that's what you're into"

"Thanks a lot"

"You know I understand you girls, I just don't condone you crying after all these athletes that are gross and stink like a skunk after practice, and act like dickheads after you touch their pickle"

"Fair" Sasha glanced up, and you continued your game trying to hit Ymir in the head with all the pillows and stuffies you could find in the room as she swivelled with the speed of a tumble dryer.

Until Sasha bursted out laughing once again.

"What's so funny?"

"If I told you a few months ago you were gonna be all lovey-dovey about Jean you would've decked me" Sasha chuckled and you felt your stomach flip at her words. Lovey-dovey, huh?

"I'd never deck you, Sasha"

"I would" Ymir chimed in.

"You'd deck anyone" you chuckled, holding your arms up to your head to protect yourself from Ymir's vengeful blow as she launched a pillow back at you with the force of her insane spinning.

"Indeed" she replied, then stopped the swivel chair, finger gunning at you as she got up. "And now if you'll forgive me, I have an angel to meet who absolutely never stinks like a skunk"

"My brother in Christ, only God can forgive you for the shit you've said in this room" Sasha said without looking up and you laughed as Ymir stumbled to the door, obviously feeling dizzy from turning about three million times in the last twenty minutes.

"Tell Hisu we're saying hi!"

"Ight, see ya fools!" the door slammed shut behind Ymir and you looked at Sasha's skilled hands moving for a few silent seconds. Jean filled your mind like a heavy, intoxicating fog at all times, making every single cell in your body tingle with excitement. You wanted more. So much more of him.

"Look!" Sasha jumped to her feet as she finished her work, the crochet hook hanging from the piece of clothing she just made herself. She held the skirt up to her hips as she stood in front of the mirror. "What do you think?"

"It's really cute" you grinned at her reflection. "Colorful and pretty, just like you"

Although your dilemma seemingly dissolved, you still wasn't a hundred percent sure that Sasha was right. Your mind told you to believe her, considering how she was one of the few people who truly knew Jean - but your curiosity still got the best of you. That day, while Sasha went lurking around in the kitchen to watch Niccolo cook, you turned to Connie above your half eaten lunch in the canteen.

"Connie..."

"That's me" he replied, mouth full of food as he glanced at you, earning a quick roll of your eyes.

"Did Jean tell you anything about being mad at me?"

"Nah, why?"

"He's avoiding me" you said as your eyes dropped to your fork, jumbling the food around in your plate.

"He's trying his best not to fuck you, probably" Connie shrugged and you almost choked on your own saliva.

"You mean like— Did he—tell you?" you asked as you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You absolutely didn't calculate on the possibility of Connie knowing all about your naughty business when you opened this topic.

"Tell me what" he furrowed his eyebrows and your heart almost jumped out of your chest. Fuck. You basically just told on yourself.

"Nothing, forget it" you muttered, but looking at Connie's expression, you already knew it was too late. The bright red tint of your face probably told him everything he needed to know.

"NO" Connie slammed his fists on the table, cutlery clattering against your plates with the devastating sound of his realization. You squeezed your eyes. "Say sike right now"

"Stop"

"You FUCKED?!" he yelled as he stared at you, jaw hanging open in utter shock, and your hands instantly moved to your eyes as a few turning heads around you caught your eye.

"Connie!" you hissed angrily, but there was no amount of sternness that could jolt him out of his shocked state.

"I can't believe that little dipshit didn't tell me" his eyes stared at you widened. "Was it good?"

"What?! No—I mean yeah, but—Connie, no, you don't get it" you stuttered as you tried to calm and collect your thoughts. "I talked to Marco beforehand and—"

"About fucking Jean?"

"No, about us, and how he feels—or, like—how he assumes he feels, and how I feel—"

"Huh?" Connie blinked at you. "Who feels what?"

"HIM. I mean, us both. I don't know what, but— I thought we both felt it, but now I'm not sure anymore and I'm starting to think he just misunderstood him, and all he felt was something temporary and completely different from what I feel" you gabbled in one breath, but looking at Connie's motionless face, you quickly realized it only made sense in your head. "You know?"

"You are on so many drugs" Connie said blankly and you sighed, defeated.

"Nevermind, forget it"

"So... You banged, but it was bad?"

You and Connie gazed at each other for a good few moments before you opened your mouth to reply, still not sure you were talking to an actual cognitive being. "Where's the factory reset button on you?"

He was at least considerate enough to drop the stupid questions when Reiner appeared at your table, grinning and happy to see your now familiar faces, then joined you having lunch - while ditching his teammates at the other table who wore the same varsity jackets as him, seemingly confused as to why Reiner chose to sit with you two randos.

But you didn't mind, moreover, were glad you finally got to talk to him a little more after just a few exchanged sentences at Connie's party. From the outside, Reiner looked exactly like your typical buff, intimidating jock type, but as soon as he spoke to you and Connie with that soft smile, a joyful warmth filled your chest at the realization: he was just a sweetheart in a huge, scary body.

"'Aight, I'll see you guys around" you grabbed your tray as you prepared to leave, but Reiner's hand stopped you in your tracks as it reached for your arm.

"Wait, which way y'going?"

"To the library" you smiled at him and he immediately returned it, a grin plastered on his face as he threw his gym bag over his shoulder.

"You can walk me to my class, then"

"Yeah? Should I drop you off on my way there?" you laughed and Reiner's warm eyes glared into yours as he winked at you.

"I know I'm in safe hands with you"

As you said bye to Connie and you felt Reiner softly place his hand on your waist to guide you to the way out of the canteen, you raised your eyes to suddenly meet a pair of familiarly intense hazel ones. Jean sauntered your way and you muttered a quiet 'hi' as he shook hands with Reiner while passing. His scent hit your nose and you felt dizzy all of a sudden, but he seemed so nonchalant and absolutely not touched by seeing Reiner by your side that you quickly shook the feeling off. He doesn't care.

Oh, but he did, very much so.

He had to force himself to relieve the clench of his jaw to save his teeth from breaking. Why did Reiner touch your waist like that? Who the fuck does he think he is? You barely even know him. And where the fuck are you going with him, just you two? Jean felt his muscles tense up, making great effort not to look back as he walked towards Connie, and away from you.

"What the fuck was that?" a growl bursted out of Jean as soon as he reached Connie's table.

"Dude, how can you fuck it up this bad? You have it so easy" Connie immediately complained in response and Jean sat down with a confused frown.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're all she talked about, she actually went fucking nuts about ten minutes ago—"

"What? Why?" Jean cut him off, the tension of his muscles increasing as he got more impatient.

"She asked me if you were mad at her, and I said no, and she told me you two fucked—" Connie jabbered, but Jean's frustration took over again.

"Okay, she most definitely did not tell you that" he shook his head.

"Whatever, you kept it a secret from me anyway, so I'm quite disappointed in you at the moment, don't cut me off" Connie replied like the assertive gentleman he was. "Anyways, now she thinks you just wanted to get her laid and dip cause you avoid her, or whatever"

"What?! That's stupid" Jean's eyebrows furrowed and he felt his heartbeat intensify. Is that really what you think? The exact opposite was what he was trying to do. After that drunken night, Jean was scared you'll get the wrong impression and think he just wants to fool around. However, after talking to Marco, he was certain in one thing: he didn't want the two of you to stay casual, and he wanted you on the same page as him. "Why the hell would I dip?"

"THAT'S what I'm saying, you have it so easy, man. She's infatuated with you. Don't fuck it up"

"Where did that word come from?" one of Jean's eyebrows raised in suspicion and Connie shrugged.

"I was reading Sasha's magazine in class earlier" he replied and Jean shook his head with a smile. The nervous beating of his heart and the uneasy feeling in his stomach remained - an awful guilt started to twist his mind as he imagined you having these stupid thoughts. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he didn't cherish all the intimate moments that'd happened between you like the most precious little treasure in his heart. He wanted more, so much more, but he was so scared of you believing sex was all he wanted from you.

"I don't want to fuck it up, but—" Jean nervously rubbed his temple. "I was thinking earlier—"

"Wow, impressive" Connie said bluntly and Jean's face dropped.

"Shut the fuck up" he growled, then slapped Connie's hand away as he poked his hand.

"You're holding the knife in the wrong hand, by the way"

Jean stared at him for a few moments, contemplating if he should just stab that knife into his own neck.

"I'm left-handed, you fucking dumbass"

You smiled at Reiner one last time before you parted ways in front of his class, then continued your way to the library. Reiner was a sweet guy - he gave you the impression of a seemingly confident, but secretly timid man who mastered the art of flirting, yet still became flustered when the same flirty comments were thrown right back at him. Although they were light-hearted, you didn't take them seriously. He probably flirted like that with most of the girls around campus.

You turned left at the familiar bookshelf, making your way to your favorite quiet corner of the library. Though it looked like the single table there was already occupied. You gazed at the back of the black jacket that had hand-painted lettering on it, dark strands of hair falling to his shoulder and moving with a familiar shine as he turned his head to the sound of your steps.

"Eren" you smiled at him, trying not to spontaneously burst into flames at the intensity of his bright greenish eyes piercing through yours. Eren closed the book in his hand, kindly removing his crossed legs from the other chair and moving over so you could get seated. "What are you reading?"

You grabbed the book handed to you, examining the dark cover of The Black Cat by Edgar Allan Poe. Your eyes flicking to the other two books lying on the table, you instantly realized Eren didn't pick them for himself - you knew Mikasa was mad about gothic literature. A smile curved your lips at the thought of Eren browsing around for hours, looking for books that'd make Mikasa happy.

How sweet.

"Where did you leave your mullet-man?" Eren asked with a smirk and you lifted your gaze at the metallic sound hitting your ear. A balisong was spinning and turning smoothly between Eren's fingers, the insane speed of his effortless movements catching you off guard. It could've been interpreted as kind of a threat, but you knew Eren.

You didn't expect any less from a man who regularly visited bars around campus to find dudes that harassed vulnerable, drunk girls, and beat those dudes up just for fun.

"I don't have any cash, if you're trying to threaten me" you said and Eren laughed as your eyes were glued to the effortless flicking of his wrist, the butterfly knife swinging around in the air like a toy. "But I—I don't know, his business is not mine"

"Ah, right" Eren all-knowingly smiled as he closed the balisong. "That's why he's followed you here"

"What?" you turned your head to follow Eren's eyes with a confused frown and your heart skipped a beat as you saw Jean's tall frame walking towards you.

"Your business is his, apparently" Eren winked at you and put his knife in his pocket, then grabbed the books as he stood up. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone"

You felt your cheeks heat up at his comment. He knew exactly how to make you flustered in just seconds.

"I know those are for Mikasa, ya big ass lovebird" you said to quickly snap back at him, earning a roll of his eyes and an irritated huff. Eren didn't like you knowing about the existance of his emotions, apparently. It was never fully obvious to you whether him and Mikasa were together or not, but they basically lived their lives attached at the hip, so it wasn't hard to figure.

"Look who decided to finally get into a six foot radius of a book" Eren turned to Jean to greet him with a huge grin.

"What are you doing here?" Jean frowned at Eren. "You're not illiterate anymore?! You could've told us, we would've thrown a party or something"

You chuckled, although you tried to keep it quiet. These stand-offs between Jean and Eren could get brutal and usually, the more you gave voice to your amusement, the more hostile they got.

"There was a party, I just timed it to coincide with the hockey team's twentyseventh lost game of this season, that must be why you missed it" Eren deadpanned. "Sorry"

You bursted out laughing this time, the honest hurt on Jean's face at Eren's stupid remark was just too much to bear.

"Your girl laughs at my jokes harder than yours" Eren grinned, and you immediately blushed at the title. You're not even 'his girl'. Though you weren't so quick to correct him. "Get your shit together, my man"

"Alright Jäger, we get it, your balls finally dropped" Jean sat down next to you as his hand motioned for Eren to go away. "Now walk. And never stop"

"Oof, did someone feed you after midnight, Kirstein?" Eren smiled as he looked to you, then winked at you one more time before turning to leave. "Bye, little birds"

"Bye, Romeo!" you sneered at him and looked at his head shaking as he walked away.

Your eyes darted to Jean as a moment of silence set between you and he felt himself get flustered right away. He felt unbelievably weak for a second as he realized how he always melted under the twinkle in your beautiful big eyes. He liked to think he's got his emotions under control at all times, but the way he became bewitched by how pretty you are every single time told him otherwise. Your soft lips curved into a slight smile, pretty little freckles on your nose moving with the movements of your face, your eyelashes slowly blinking, alluring Jean to breathlessly lose himself in the endless depth of your eyes. He just couldn't not stare.

"You love each other, just admit it" you smirked at him and Jean snapped out of his trance, gritting his teeth.

"He's an idiot"

"Sure" you smiled to yourself, knowing exactly what was actually hidden behind Eren and Jean's whole hating-each-other's-guts facade.

"Hey, I wanted to ask you something—" Jean's eyes dropped to his hands on the table, his fingers nervously fidgeting as he tried to gather all his strength to force the words out. "I just—I don't want you to feel like fooling around is all I'm interested in"

"Is it not?" you cheekily raised an eyebrow as you bit back your smile, secretly loving the way this big and gruffy man got so shy and timid all of a sudden.

"No, it's not. And you know that" Jean replied bluntly as his eyes shot to yours and your heart jumped in your chest at the intense eye contact. He was right, you did. Your eyes flicked to his again as you heard your name roll off his tongue, sounding so beautifully sweet. "I’m taking you out on a date"

"Do I have a say in it?" you chuckled, and although it sounded more like a demand, your heart still started fluttering with pure happiness.

"No" he smirked, his heart unknowingly matching the fluttering of yours as he looked at you smile. "Date me, it's a command"

"Yes, sir!" you nodded. You didn't want to further force a conversation about his exact thoughts and feelings, you just felt happy to see where things were going. "So no fooling around, you said?"

"Uh-uh" he shook his head, then smirked as his eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. "For now, at least. What do you say?"

"Sounds good" you returned his playful smile. You'll be curious to see how long he'd obey his rule. "Tomorrow night?"

The key turned in the lock, the door slowly opened and your hand quickly started to fumble around to find the light switch. You walked into the empty dorm as it lit up, then swiftly reached out to your night lamp to switch to that light instead. It was more friendly.

The room was empty, but that didn't take you by surprise. After you and Jean cancelled on you three's movie night, Sasha was more than happy to go home for the weekend instead, leaving the dorm empty for you on accident. She was internally in hysterics as soon as she heard about your little date, but you tried your best to convince her it was just a "casual hangout, nothing special", so she left it to you.

Jean stepped in the dorm after you, closing the door behind him. A comfortable silence filled the room as he shook his jacket off of his shoulders, laying it on Sasha's swivel chair. Warmth spread in your chest as you felt his scent fill your nose, his presence making the butterflies in your stomach flap around in ecstasy.

"Can I use your charger?" he grabbed the cable lying on your bed.

"Sure" you replied as you kicked off your shoes, then watched as he plugged his phone in. The dark band shirt fit loose on his broad shoulders, soft strands of ashy brown hair fell to his neck, and the way the warm light grazed the side profile of his pretty face made you melt.

Jean flopped down on your bed, making you immediately jump to push him off.

"NO!" you pressed your palms on his back as hard as you could, but he just chuckled, not flinching one bit. "Get your outside clothes off my bed!"

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot you're clinically insane"

"Take these off" you tugged on Jean's cargos with a frown. He just sat on the bus with those pants, you couldn't have all the nasty bus-germs all over your clean bed.

"Hey, cool it. I told you, no naughty stuff" he smirked up at you and you chuckled. Right, no naughty stuff. We’ll see.

“Take it off”

Jean felt the blood in his body start to wander to a different place from his brain as memories flooded his mind at hearing your demanding tone. He couldn’t be more confident in his decision to slow things down with you - but he felt his presence of mind fading as your eyes blinked at him with that playful glint.

“Your wish is my command, smartass” Jean kicked off his shoes and you bit down on your lower lip as you watched his hands move to fumble with the buckle of his belt. You felt a familiar heat spread in your core as you looked at him and you hesitated for a moment before reaching for the button of your own jeans.

Neither of you really overdressed for your cute little date. You agreed that a simple milkshake in the café near the campus and a walk in the park would perfectly fit for a first date, eliminating any excessive pressure and frustration of a fancier one. Jean told you to dress ‘sleazy’ and ‘preferably like a homeless person’, so you did just that, you even kinda matched with him in your baggy jeans and big hoodie. Jean secretly hoped it’d be easier to keep his composure this way, but homeless-you mesmerized him just as much as if you dressed up, maybe even a little more. He found your smaller frame in those huge clothes adorable - especially now that he knew what you were hiding under them.

The plan worked, with some of the pressure lifted off, it felt amazing to be in his presence. An unknown kind of happiness filled both of your brains as hours flew by, your conversation only stopping when your eyes sank too deep into each other, erasing all existing thoughts in your hazy minds.

“You won’t make me take a shower this time?” Jean smirked as he pulled his legs out of his cargo pants, then quickly squeezed his eyes shut when his eyes flicked up to you just as your baggy jeans fell to your ankles. He already felt himself getting hard as the soft skin of your beautiful legs caught his eye. Oh, no.

“No, not this time” you smiled, then pulled your hoodie to take it off. Jean sat there spellbound as he watched you lay your clothes on a chair, then put your glasses on the desk, light grazing the round ouline of your ass in your cute little panties, a tight cropped top letting the skin on the curve of your beautiful waist show. He felt the blood rush to his groin and you turned around, your hard nipples of your perfect tits showing through the small top, letting him know you had no bra on all along.

You bit your lower lip as you looked at Jean, his pretty lips parted as he stared at you, a growing bulge in his boxers between his deliciously spread thighs telling you he liked the view just as much as you did.

“This is not a good idea”

“Why? We’re not gonna do anything” you replied softly while you stepped closer to Jean, standing between his legs as he looked up to you with already flushed cheeks. His lashes fluttered as your fingers found their way through his hair. “You said it yourself, right?”

“Right” Jean mumbled as his eyes closed at the heavenly feeling of your touch. His face looked so beautiful like this, him melting between your hands, you just couldn’t help leaning down to press a soft kiss on his lips.

The kiss was sweet and slow, full of tender emotions. Although it still sent a burning heat through both of your cores, this time it also felt so delicately warm and affectionate.

Your lips started moving in perfect sync as you laid down on your bed, hands slowly roaming each other’s bodies, gentle strokes and deep, passionate kisses heating them up. Your sense of time vanished as you made out and the wet noises of your lips filled the room, along with your desperate whimpers and Jean’s quiet groans as your hips slowly rolled into his, one of your legs wrapped around him as you laid on your sides. The wet spot on your panties rubbed on his aching bulge so well, Jean couldn’t help his fingers digging into your hips, driving them to grind into him harder.

“You feel so good, baby” he moaned into your mouth and another whimper fell from yours in response. His warm tongue in your mouth, his strong hands groping you and the friction of grinding on his bulge was enough to already push you to the edge.

“Y—you too, Jean” you moaned back, but neither of you moved your hands to each other’s desperately aching, sensitive parts. Neither of you took it further.

Jean meant what he said - even if you both knew you weren’t going to endure very long, he wanted you to know he’s not there for the fun only. He felt like listening to your laughter and looking into your sparkling eyes above your milkshakes was just as fun as your hands brushing, then gently intertwining while you walked in the park, or as pulling on your hair to leave sloppy kisses all over your neck while you moaned in pleasure.

“D’you wanna stay the night?” you asked quietly as your hands cupped each side of his jaw, admiring the golden glint of his beautiful hazel eyes. “Please”

“Of course” he softly smiled at you.

Jean felt like he was on cloud nine. For him, fun was the way your muffled laughing sounded and how radiant your pretty face looked in the mirror while you both brushed your teeth in the bathroom, or the tingling he felt as your bare skin brushed against each other, and also watching you do your nightly routine before lying down in your bed and having the silliest, most stupid coversations as you laughed together. Fun was also the intense eye contact before tangling into each other again, sloppily making out and grinding heavily until both of your underwear was soaked with the mixture of your wetness and the precum leaking from his sensitive tip.

But the most fun part was hugging you tightly, feeling the warmth of your body and inhaling the sweet scent of your hair as you pressed your ass into Jean’s hard-on before quickly drifting off in the safe embrace of his strong arms. Even like this, he felt so full, so at peace.

Jean couldn’t have been happier.

144 notes · View notes

tieronecrush · 1 year ago

Text

hot & heavy

epilogue: our love is going gold

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 17.2k (but she's done. like done, done.)

warnings (**SPOLIERS**): NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is now 10 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), established relationship, engagement, marriage, alcohol, eating, very lovey romantic, polite southern manners, spanish/spanglish cause joel is latino, soft joel, domestic joel, WIFE!! GUY!! JOEL!!, discussion of parenting, step-parenting, struggles with conceiving, negative self talk and image, smut, soft dom joel, fingering, oral (f receiving), joel worships the ground his wife walks on and also her body, praise, unprotected p in v (they're tryna get pregnant, not you!), breeding kink, sort of nursing kink? joel is briefly obsessed with your tits and makes comments, mating press, a flash of cumplay, the BRIEFEST mention of daddy kink, joel really wants to give his wife a baby, pregnancy, a mention of giving birth, girl dad joel, CUTE FAMILY!!!

also this is the song mentioned <3 it's a fave of mine and i think very joel & mari

a/n: this has been a doozy but happy to hand this over to y'all. this is simply what i envisioned for their future, and if you had different thoughts, i would love to hear them! <3 or if you have any headcanons for their life beyond this, drop them in my inbox! this fic and these characters are my children and i love them very much. will probably keep them alive somehow. and thank you to everyone who's read this series, you are all so special to me and have sincerely made me feel so much more confident in my writing!

as always, thank you thank you thank you @northernbluess for beta-ing, couldn't do it without you! and this extremely long ending is dedicated to el and kiwi @kiwisbell you are my hype people fr

i feel like i need to say like signing off on h&h now lol so this is me doing that & closing the book!

** this is set over three additional summers post-main story **

first of many

After the holidays, it was an easy decision to move in with Joel and Sarah. The Millers had joined your family for their annual, lowkey celebrations; spending Christmas Eve with Joel and Sarah, it was a treat to witness him playing Santa after Sarah had gone to bed. Only a few curses under his breath putting together the new dollhouse she’d requested from St Nick, the other presents from her father, and your gifts to her carefully wrapped under the tree. The two of you split the plate of cookies while watching A Christmas Story, you and Joel taking turns mumbling the words to the iconic scenes under your breaths.

The next morning, your heart was overwhelmed with the love that you hold for this family that has welcomed you in and made you a part of it. Sarah gifted you a photo frame that she’d made at school, painted with flowers and butterflies, and a photo of the three of you from the trip to the apple orchard you’d taken that fall. Once Sarah was occupied with her new treasures, gifts were exchanged between you and Joel. Requesting to gift first, you stand up from the couch and tiptoe around Sarah and her new dolls sprawled across the floor to the front hall closet and retrieve a brand new, custom acoustic guitar.

Sitting back with him, guitar placed into his hands and his eyes combing over it, his lips part with a gasping breath when he notices in the inlay of ‘SME’ for his daughter’s name, Sarah Elena.

“The old one in the corner of your room was lookin’ a little worse for wear, and I hadn’t seen you play it in a while…” you trail off in the silence, waiting for his response, “Do you—do you like it? Is it the right kind? I tried to match it the best I could to the one upstairs.”

“Oh, Mari baby, I love it. It’s beautiful, thank you so much…” He shakes his head, taking another sighing exhale in appreciation as he turns it in his hands. “Hadn’t played the other one 'cause it wasn’t quite playable anymore. Restrung it a few too many times, the wood was warped from some water damage. The perils of having a toddler around years ago. This is…it’s perfect, Mariposa.”

You beam, shifting in your seat and anxiously fiddling with your fingers. Joel sets the instrument down next to him carefully, turning back to you. He leans in, kissing you delicately and whispering another ‘thank you’ against your lips, “Guess m’gonna have to serenade you now.”

“Oh, yeah, J. I expect one nightly,” you playfully respond, kissing him again before he pulls away, his turn to stand from his place on the couch.

He wanders over to the tree, plucking the last wrapped gift from under it, and returning to sit next to you. Handing over the small rectangular box, you unwrap it gingerly, glancing at Joel’s knee bouncing. You gently set your hand on it, smiling at him which he returns, biting his lip to channel his jittery energy. Opening the box, you’re met with the shining gold links of a beautiful charm bracelet. Your eyes wander over the small icons, feeling your chest tighten with love as you take them all in: A small ‘S’ with a ruby-colored stone at each end of the curve, a matching ‘J’ with a sapphire embedded into it right next to the ‘S; there’s a tiny gold key, nearly identical to the one he had given to you those three summers before for your job that started it all; a tiny set of longhorn antlers that is reminiscent of home; a lighthouse that reminds you of one you visited while living in Boston, a day you had documented and sent Joel some of the photos in the mail to recap your time. It was a day you had been happy there, and it made your heart ache that he remembered that. The last charm on the bracelet is a butterfly, bejeweled with kelly green stones, the color of the leaves that you told him were your favorite years ago. The ache in your chest is worked out of its knot with Joel’s hand at your back, a gasping breath as you blink back tears.

Clearing your throat, your watery smile has a flash of worry crossing his eyes before you hand him the bracelet you’ve taken out of the box, lightly requesting, “Will you put it on for me?”

Joel nods shyly, taking the dainty piece in his hands, and hooking the clasp around your wrist after a few tries. You both admire it, your smile growing wider and his matching yours.

“Merry Christmas, Mari baby. I love you.”

“Merry Christmas, J. I love you, too.”

Now, months later, the bracelet on your wrist glints in the sun as you hold onto Sarah’s hand, letting her lead you around the atrium filled with butterflies. Spending the day at the same farm you three had visited summers ago, and had kept up with the tradition with the summers following, you picked an abundance of strawberries, wandered through the nature paths, and now ending the day at the youngest Miller’s favorite spot.

Sarah wildly points out the different types of butterflies, the encyclopedia book of the insect’s species that you had gifted her for Christmas coming in handy for today as she reads the small signs of each patterned, winged creature, adding in her tidbits that she remembers. A grin stays plastered on your face as you listen intently, paying no mind to Joel trailing behind the two of you.

Giving your lessons on the flora that you know of in the gardens, Sarah listens to you as well. Stopping in front of the small waterfall, surrounded by tropical plants and flowers, the two of you go back and forth in fun facts about plants and butterflies, unaware as Joel saddles up behind you. Sarah glances back over her shoulder and grins, the expression reading as knowing and mischievous. Before turning around, you start to warn Joel behind you playfully, “J, if you’re even thinking about pushing me or splashing me, I will ki—”

Your breath catches when you finally face him, eyes dropping to meet his; the backpack he’d be adamant about carrying all day is at his feet, unzipped, and in his hands is a small, forest-green velvet box. Joel rests on one knee, a soft but bright, devoted smile on his face.

“Oh my god…” It comes from your lips as a whisper, your free hand reaching up to cover your mouth while the other continues to tether you to Sarah at your side, her small giggle hitting your ears as Joel glances at her, sending her a wink.

Eyes back on your face, Joel clears his throat, adjusting himself on his knee as he takes a deep breath, “I have been trying to figure out exactly what to say, and I can’t seem to find quite the right words that tell you exactly how I feel about you. I love you, so much, Mariposa. The second you entered my life, that time I saw you for only seconds in your backyard while I was touring the house, I knew I had to meet you. And then the first time I met you, well, I knew that you were who I needed.

“I’ve been walking around blind, trying to figure out life for years, and moving next door to you, that was the last piece falling into place. You have made my life, and Sarah’s life, a million times better. And while these past few years haven’t been picture-perfect for us, we made it through, and I know that we can take on anything that comes our way. Eres el alma más hermosa que he conocido, y soy muy afortunada de tenerte. (You are the most beautiful soul I have ever met, and I am so lucky to have you.) I’ve been waiting for years to do this, Mari baby, and I can’t have any more summers pass by without you being mine. Tú eres mi media naranja. (You’re my soulmate.) I love you. Te amo, Mari. You’re my soulmate, sweet girl, and I can’t take another day without the promise of forever. Will you marry me, Mariposa?”

Without hesitation, you nod your head frantically, your tears that started falling as soon as Joel started speaking continue to flow. You uncover your mouth, squeezing Sarah’s hand and sharing a smile with her before she takes her hand away.

“Yes, oh my gosh, Joel…of course, of course, I’ll marry you. I love you so much, J.” You squat down in front of him, left hand trembling as you hold it out for him. He carefully takes the ring from the box, and Sarah, ever the helper, takes it from the spot where it rests on his knee for safekeeping. The delicate gold band slips onto your finger, embellished with clusters of tiny gems and centered with an emerald cut diamond. It’s perfectly you, and you can’t wipe the smile off your face as you watch Joel settle the piece of jewelry on your finger. Both of you take a deep breath, admiring the sight before your eyes find each other’s again, matching expressions of complete admiration. Your hands find his cheeks, pulling him in for a tenderly passionate kiss, attempting to breathe all the love in your chest into the kiss and his heart. Joel pulls away first, resting his forehead against yours for a quiet moment.

“Thank you, J,” you whisper, and his head tilts with curiosity.

“For what, baby? I think I should be thankin’ you for sayin’ yes to me.” He chuckles and rubs his thumb at the back of your hand, skimming next to the band of the new addition.

“Everything. For not giving up. Your patience when I was still finding my way back to you. How effortlessly you’ve welcomed me into your life and your family…” Cheating your body away, one hand reaches out to pull Sarah into the small huddle, reuniting the moment within your unit of three, “I just—I can’t wait for all my summers to be spent with you both.”

“I can’t wait either. This is gonna be the first of many, Mari baby.”

And the two of you really couldn’t wait.

Only a week after Joel was down on one knee, your family was throwing you an engagement party. Tommy, a few of Joel’s close friends from his contracting company, your college friends, and neighbors were all in attendance to celebrate the two of you, and it was a big to-do. Drinks flowing, music playing, and food was being passed around. Everything under the warmth of a Texas night and the strung lights across the stretch of your parents’ backyard. Joel was glued to your side the entire night, hand on your back or clasped in yours, grabbing your refills and whispering in your ear to make you laugh.

“So…are all of these people coming to the wedding? ‘Cause I can count about half that I have no idea who they are.”

To that, you whispered back, “I don’t know them either, so definitely not. Unless they wanna buy us the most expensive thing on the registry.” Joel laughed, squeezing you closer — if it were even possible — and pressing a kiss to your temple.

Later, once you two were far past tipsy, Joel mumbled against your ear, barely able to get the words out without drunkenly giggling himself, “D’you think Mrs. Clarke is thinkin’ m’the one that got away?”

You couldn’t contain your laughter, bursting out in the middle of the conversation happening around you two, quickly covering your mouth as the lingering hiccups escape, “I think she’s singin’ the blues about you, Miller.”

The rest of the evening was filled with small moments between the two of you; never left alone long enough to have a full conversation on your own. Whispers of love and affection breathed out, fleeting kisses exchanged. It wasn’t until the party was over, everyone dwindled out the door and back to their homes, that you and Joel took a beat to speak to each other in more than one sentence. The early hours of the morning had crept in without anyone quite noticing, and Sarah was knocked out, brought inside to sleep in your old bedroom around 10pm when she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. Joel now held her in his arms, her head laying on his shoulder while the three of you walked the short distance home. After your quiet goodnight to Sarah that went unheard by her sleeping self, Joel put her down, taking off her shoes and leaving her undisturbed to sleep in her clothes.

Back in the ensuite of your, now, shared bedroom, you’re lazily getting ready for bed, movements slower and lagging from the alcohol you consumed. Joel stands behind you, facing your reflection in the mirror and giving you a smile as the exhaustion catches up to him.

“You have fun tonight, sweet girl?” His vocal cords rub together in a fry, hands finding their place on your waist and drawing you back into his chest. Littering kisses at the back of your neck, he hums contently before you affectionately shoo him off to brush his teeth while you apply your skincare.

“‘Course I did, J. Spent most of the night with you, how could I not have fun?” You grin at him from in front of your side of the double sinks, gently rubbing in your moisturizer. “Have you given any thought as to when you wanna set a date for?”

Whatever he responds is muffled by the foamy toothpaste, your face twisting in confusion before he leans over and spits out, rinsing his mouth and toothbrush. Standing back up, he rests his hip against the countertop while facing you, shrugging as he smirks slightly, “As soon as possible. Baby, I’d get married to ya in a garbage dump if it meant we could get married right this second. No puedo esperar para hacerte mi esposa. (Can’t wait to make you my wife.) And I know you don’t want that, and I want to make you happy, so whenever you want, Mari. Lo que sea que desees, lo haré realidad. (Whatever you wish for, I’ll make a reality.) But I will say, summer’s kind of our thing.”

A gentle smile stretches across your lips as you step closer, hands coming to rest on his chest and massaging your fingers gently into the muscles there, “Well, how about we do this summer? I mean, I don’t want anything fancy, just something special for us. Thought maybe we could do it here, in our backyard and my parents’. Where we met and fell in love and broke up and fell in love again and—”

“I love that idea, sweetheart. Think it’s perfect for us…” Joel punctuates his work by stealing a kiss, mint and strawberry lip balm melting on his tongue when he deepens it only for a few seconds, “Think we can manage for Labor Day weekend, mi amor?”

Nodding confidently, your hands skate up to his shoulders, pulling him down for another kiss, “I believe we just set our wedding date, Miller.”

“Damn right, we did, Miller.”

A whirlwind of planning and three months later, you now stand in your childhood bedroom on the second floor of your parent’s house, admiring yourself in the full-length mirror standing in the corner. Your mom had helped you with your hair, a small gold barette holding one side away from your face; your makeup was fairly minimal, fresh, and bright, but nothing too heavy that would melt in the heat that has graced Austin this weekend.

On your wrist is your charm bracelet from Joel, a simple gold locket to match that your father had gifted you the evening before at the rehearsal dinner — it has belonged to his grandmother, and now your grandma wanted you to have it since she couldn’t make the trip down due to her age. It was your ‘something old’ he said, playing into the old traditions that seemed to charm your entire family.

Your ‘something borrowed’ was a pair of white strappy sandals from your mom, ones that she had worn to her rehearsal dinner when she married your dad. The title of ‘something new’ belonged to the charm hanging off of your wrist that was hand-delivered to you this morning from Tommy, per the request of Joel since you both were getting ready in opposite houses. The gift box unveiled a gold lotus flower, hand painted with deep magenta petals. Inside the lid of the box was a folded note, the words written by your soon-to-be husband in his usual scrawl.

Mi amor,

Got to reading one of your books you leave around about plants, and they were talking about the lotus flower. Made me think of you — since they go back to the murky water each evening and open their blooms at the break of day. You always start fresh, sweet girl, you’re so resilient and strong and pure of heart. No matter what happens, you get through it. And you won’t have to go at it alone, baby. I’m gonna be right there with you through anything.

You make me a better man.

Te amo, mi media naranja.

You had to touch up your makeup after having read the note over and over for minutes straight, now fresh faced and eager to get downstairs. One last time in the mirror, you give yourself the once over, smoothing the long, full skirt of your linen dress. The ruched empire bodice lays across your chest, framing your neck with a square shape along with the cap sleeves. Simple, but it feels perfectly you. And now, you were finally on your way to get your something blue: Joel in his navy suit, waiting at the end of the aisle for you.

Everyone’s gathered in their seats, only a crowd of around forty people from your lives occupying the rows, all carefully selected to make the cut. It was easy for Joel, he had three people he wanted there for sure, and well, his daughter didn’t have a choice living right next door, plus with her dad being the groom, and you being the bride. The only chance of a wild card he had was Tommy, but he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning despite the many shots he had the night prior. At the rehearsal dinner of all places.

Dressed and gaffed, he stands at the end of the short aisle after having walked down it hand-in-hand with Sarah, who was donning a lilac dress she picked out with your help and her hair in her natural, bouncy curls. She now sits next to Tommy in the front row, whose new girlfriend Maria is sitting on the other side of him, stealing peeks over the back of the seat to try to catch a glimpse of you at the top of the deck stairs. Joel is doing the same, eyes flickering from scanning over the crowd to tunneling at the opening of the stairs.

Music starts and it immediately tunes out of his ears, a tingle of excitement radiating from his chest throughout his body. A vision in white, you appear at the stairs with your arm linked to your dad, Mark; he isn’t paying attention to anything but you, captivated by your beauty. His heartbeat kicks up when you walk down, reaching the end of the grassy path between rows of chairs, and stopping for a moment. With the bouquet in one hand, you use the other that was resting on your dad’s arm to give him a short wave that he returns with a grin.

Each step you take brings up tears in his eyes, an overwhelming joy clenching around his heart. A few drop down his cheeks, using one of his thumbs to wipe away the streaks as you give him a gentle smile, speeding up your walk and dragging your dad along with you. The guests laugh at the eagerness, Joel rocking on the balls of his feet as he bites back his wild grin when you finally reach him. Exchanging hugs with your dad, Mark shakes Joel’s hand before clapping him on the back, a sure nod directed to him.

His hand slips into yours naturally, helping you with the last few steps to stand in front of him, exhaling a deep breath. A smile that he can’t wipe off stretches across his face, looking into your eyes as he lifts a hand to wipe his cheeks. You do the same, delicate touch against his skin while your gaze stays trained on his. Beating out of his chest, his heart thumps deeply, the wings of his butterfly fluttering madly in his gut in time with his heartbeat.

“Hey, Mari.”

“Hi, J.”

Everyone settles back in their seats, and your brother stands at the makeshift altar, a carved arbor handmade by Joel over the last few months frames the three of you in front of your guests. You turn to hand off the wildflower bouquet you put together to Sarah, eager to fulfill her responsibility of holding it during the ceremony. She grins, whispering to you loud enough for him to hear when she takes the arrangement.

“You look so pretty, Posey. I’m excited for you to marry Daddy.” Your hand reaches for her curls, squatting down in your dress to address her at eye level, unconditional love shining in your eyes as you look at his daughter.

“You look beautiful, Sare Bear. I’m so excited, too.” Other words are exchanged only between the two of you, a hug shared before Sarah retreats to her chair next to Tommy and you stand up and take Joel’s hands.

Chris ambles through an introduction, recollecting his version of events, as well as both of your sides, for how your relationship has progressed. Humor was laced throughout, laughter bubbling over throughout the crowd of guests, and especially between the two of you when you shared knowing expressions.

The ceremony moves quickly, with no religious elements to extend the length, simply secular. Before he knows it, Chris is reaching the vows, allowing a moment for Tommy to present the rings to each of you, clapping a hand on his brother’s back.

“Don’t fuck this one up, brother. Posey’s a good ‘un. Way too good for you—”

Joel cuts him off with a mumble and an eye roll, “I know all of this, Tommy, but thank you for the reminder.”

Chris directs Joel to go first, a deep inhale and extended exhale fills the air as you give his hands a reassuring squeeze. He flashes a smile at you before he drops one of your hands, finishing in his inside jacket pocket for the small slip of paper.

“I tried to memorize this, but we both know that wasn’t gonna happen…” he huffs out a nervous chuckle, reading over the page before his eyes come back to you, a patient and gentle grin on your face, “I genuinely hope you know how much I love you. I try to show you, to tell you, to make you feel it through osmosis every day, but I truly hope you can feel it. Through all that we have been through together and on our own, I have always had you in my mind. I thought about you every day you were away, and all I was hoping for was your happiness. I cannot tell you what it means that you have found your happiness with me, but I will be thanking whatever forces are out there for bringing us back together. Our roads may have been bumpy, and they may be in the future, but I’m so thankful to have you in my passenger seat. Cause we both know you don’t like to drive.” Joel winks and the crowd of guests laugh.

“I never want to let go. And I’m never going to let you go, Mariposa, I’m in it for the long run. Eres todo para mí. (You are everything to me.) You are everything I have ever asked for, hoped for, didn't think I deserved. You are…un alma tan pura (such a pure soul) and I don't know how you ended up with me, but I'm countin’ my luck every second of every day. I love you through anything, mi Mariposa, and I cannot wait for our future together, as a family. I’m so happy that you have found a place you belong with Sarah and me, and I feel so lucky that you have chosen me. Te amo, mi Mariposa. Siempre.”

Recovering from your tears, you choke out a small sob that tugs on his heartstrings, tightening his grip on your hand while his brow furrows softly in concern.

“Happy tears, I promise, J. Very happy tears.” Another sob comes with a burst of laughter, a hand of yours fanning your face. Joel reaches up, wiping away the stragglers, careful to not smudge any of your mascara. With a deep breath, you focus back, centered, offering Joel your left hand. He repeats the phrase from Chris, who recites it from his printed-out online ordainment course before slipping the simple matching gold band onto your finger above your engagement ring, ears ringing when he sees the symbol of his love and commitment on your finger, where it will stay for the rest of his time on this Earth.

Next, it was your turn to recite your vows, Chris pulled a piece of paper from his jacket and handed it to you. A giggle slips from your lips, wavering the small folded sheet, “Couldn’t memorize it either. Got too much to say…”

Joel relaxes in his stance, thumb circling the back of your palm as he listens, the butterfly wings fluttering into his chest and up to his head, love overwhelming his nervous system across his body. You clear your throat, looking up from the wrinkled white sheet, “I didn’t know that one summer spent at home would completely send me on a whole new life path, but looking back, I am eternally grateful that I wanted to mooch off my parents for as long as possible. That first summer, I fell hard and fast, and despite the obstacles, my love continued to root deeper inside of me and grow out new branches with every memory we made together. I am so lucky to have been welcomed so easily into the Miller household, and I cannot imagine my life with you or Sarah there right next to me. You both have brought so much into my life and thanks to you, J, I feel like I have truly found myself.

“I was always searching for what I was meant to do, who I was meant to be, and what I would leave behind in my life. And while I went out searching everywhere, the answer was my next-door neighbor. I am meant to be your person, I was meant to care and love and create a life with you, and your wonderful daughter, and I know I will leave behind all my love for you and our family behind. My success does not need to be measured by the reach of my impact, but by how deeply I love you. That is all that matters to me, to make you feel loved and supported and to know how incredible you are. You mean the world to me, and I love Sarah as if she were my own; both of you are my best friends and I could not do this life without you. I am so excited to spend the rest of my days, and the rest of my summers with you, J. I love you. Forever.”

The same routine goes for you, slipping a gold band around Joel’s left ring finger. He flexes with the new accessory on his hand, admiring it before he looks at you, a wide and wild grin crossing his face as he listens as Chris starts to ask him that very special question, “Joel, do you ta—”

“Absolutely I do. No question.”

Laughter rises from the attendees, and you, playfully roll your eyes. Chris nods shortly, chuckling as he turns to address you with the same question. He states your name, inquiring, “Do you ta—”

“Of course, I do. Only been waitin’ years for this to happen.”

Joel laughs, shaking his head as he mumbles a sweet agreement, “You and me both, baby.”

Chris drops the papers he was reading from next to him on the grass, clasping his hands together, “Well, that made it damn easy for me. With the power vested in me by apparently the state of Texas, but who really knows, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Now y’all can kiss finally.”

A hand presses against the small of your back, pulling you into his chest as he folds down, latching your lips to his in a deep kiss, all of his love pouring into the moment. It takes restraint to not take it further in front of everyone, your intoxicating taste drawing him in and quenching a perpetual thirst he has. You lean back first, fingertips digging into his shoulders to hold him off as you whisper, “Gotta keep some decorum until tonight, Mr. Miller.”

“Hard to do that with you, Mrs. Miller,” he rasps back, matching blindingly bright grins across your faces as you right yourself, turning to face your guests as your brother loudly announces.

“For the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Miller!”

With the low-key, intimate wedding that you both had planned together, there was no real formal separation of the ceremony and reception. Instead, everyone wandered over to the backyard of Joel’s home, which was now yours, too. There were rented tables set up with chairs around, no seating chart, and a checkered dance floor set up in the middle of the lawn. Lights have been strung from his deck to the tree at the back of the property line that holds Sarah’s tire swing, some lanterns strewn about to add more light as the sun sets in the later evening.

The family-favorite restaurant in the city that the three of you have frequented, even as friends, catered the meal, and your parents, ever so prepared, had stocked up all summer with booze. Your dad plays pretend bartender, getting your now-husband behind the tablecloth-covered folding table and pouring heavy drinks and somehow heavier shots. By sundown, everyone was liquored up enough to cheer for you both to have a first dance, chanting their request over and over.

Joel looks at you from his spot next to you, eyebrows raising in question. His hand at your back draws you closer, starting to sway to whatever song is playing as he grins with a looseness to him, relieved to have you as his for good and relaxed from the alcohol in his blood. “C’mon, Mari baby, I wanna dance with you. M’wife. I got the perfect song.”

“Okay, okay, you go tell Chris what song you want and see if he’s got it on his iPod.”

You push Joel along, giggling to yourself as he shuffles over to Chris, the makeshift DJ for the evening. Joel leans in, talking in your brother’s ear over the music currently playing. They exchange a smile and nod, Joel laying a hand on his shoulder and shaking it affectionately. His beer gets abandoned on the nearest surface, giddily running over to you and taking your hand. Impatiently, he pulls you to the center of the dance floor, and Tommy intercepts your drink before it sloshes all over the front of you, huffing out a disbelieving breath as you continue to drag behind Joel.

Your husband turns you in his arms, one hand finding your back as the other lifts your joined ones toward his shoulder, elbows bent. Everyone else clears the dancefloor as an upbeat guitar riff sounds out of the speakers surrounding the dancefloor, the bright drums kicking in as Joel starts to shuffle the two of you around the dancefloor, a swing to your movements again.

The familiar lyrics of Orleans’ Still the One that Joel has sung to you many times over the last year are recited right back to you, making you reminisce about the time you were driving in the car to pick up Sarah from camp, a rare afternoon that both of you had off together. The song had come onto Joel’s favorite classic rock station, perking him up in his seat as he turned the volume dial up.

“Oh, Mari baby, this is such a great song.”

Not as familiar with it, you listen, giggling as he sings along with his words pointed at you, and you had to admit, they were pretty sickly sweet. Ever since then, Joel got into the habit of singing it to you, learning to play it after he received his new guitar from you at Christmas.

Dancing with him now, under the sticky heat of the tail end of Texan summer, surrounded by family and friends, he makes you feel as if it’s only the two of you again like it was for every other moment before with this same song.

In your ear, he sings along only for you, pulling away and twirling you as y’all take over the entire dancefloor with how free and loose you’re playing it. “You’re still the one that makes me laugh…still the one that’s my better half…we’re still havin’ fun and you’re still the one.”

At the next chorus, you join him in singing along, laughing at his excitement, both of you singing along louder. The song reaches the guitar solo, and Joel takes both of your hands, swinging you out from his chest before pulling you back in; he spins you to cross your arms in front of you, and your back to his chest before twirling you out. On the last line, when the final word is dragged out, he wraps his arms around you, spinning both of you around until the final chord strikes, setting you down and chests heaving to catch your breaths. Wide smiles still find your open mouths, cheers and whistles from the guests gathered around the dancefloor, now filling the checkered floor as the next song plays.

Breathless, Joel grins madly, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly before asking, “Think we did pretty damn good for unplanned, don’t you, Miller?”

“Damn right, we did, Miller.”

The rest of the evening was all the same, a night spent with your closest family and friends all celebrating the two of you and your love. Both you and Joel shared a dance with Sarah separately, relishing in her unbridled joy and Joel comforted his daughter when she shed a few tears about how happy she was. Your dad pulled you for a short jaunt around the dancefloor, and Joel asked your mom for a dance, which she accepted happily as a stand-in for his mom.

More drinks flowed into glasses and out of bottles, your shoes kicked off and Joel’s jacket and tie discarded onto the back of a chair somewhere. Your cheeks ached from how much you were smiling and laughing the whole time, a weight lifted, the promise of forever with your favorite person now on its way to being a reality.

You both ceremoniously cut the small single-tiered cake that your mom ordered, serving the slice on a plate. Grabbing a piece with your hands, you cheers it with Joel’s, watching as his went into his mouth and laughing as yours went across his cheek. He feigned shock, shaking his head as he looked at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes, taking a step closer. A turn on the ball of your foot directs you in an attempt to get away; failing miserably, misstepping from your level of drunkenness, Joel catches you in his arms. Turning you back around to face him, he steals a purposefully sloppy kiss, buttercream smearing against your lips and chin, the taste of vanilla coating your tongue as it melts into the taste of Joel, whiskey, beer, and sugary sweetness from the dessert.

At the very end of the night, most guests in cabs home or retreat to their homes down the street, it’s left to your closest people. The last song of the night is announced by Chris, the same song that has come up again and again for the two of you trilling over the speakers. Everyone dances and sings along to American Pie, the perfect cyclical moment for the two of you, and the closing moment of your summer. Sarah dances with the two of you, laughing as Joel twirls her around, infectious smiles on their faces.

Your heart grows in your chest, nearly to the point of bursting as you take a step back in your mind, taking in all of the moment as it surrounds you. In the backyard of your new house, the next chapter of your life starts with Joel and Sarah; right next door is your childhood home, full of love and memories with your parents and brother. Even through the hardships, these places and people have never stopped feeling like home.

The song finishes with a flourish, Joel tucking you into his chest after he scoops Sarah into his arms with a soft groan. Sarah lays her head on her dad drowsily and he presses a kiss to her forehead, mirroring the same on yours; a mumble against your skin is barely heard by you, his drawl exaggerated by the liquor, “Mi Mariposa y mariposita. My lil’ Bug. Love my girls so much.”

Tommy slides sleepy Sarah into his arms from Joel after you two say goodnight to her, the younger Miller brother already prepared the arrangement for her to stay at his on the night of your wedding. You reassure her the promise to meet at Waffle House in the morning, which will likely be the afternoon with the state of the adults. Maria, the designated driver, and Tommy, much closer to sober than drunk than you were expecting, send another congratulations your way before they’re off to the car with Sarah.

After the necessary sweep of cleaning is done between you two and your immediate family, food, drink, and lanterns gathered, they part ways, taking everything back to theirs to deal with in the morning along with striking down the tables, chairs, and dancefloor. In the quiet of the early morning hours, you and Joel stand with your arms around each other, swaying gently. Cheek to chest, Joel’s voice rasps from overuse, vibrating your ear pressed against him, “Was it what you wanted, sweet girl?”

“Everything and more, J. I loved it,” you say as you pull your head away, tilting your chin to look into his eyes, “And I love you, m’husband.”

“I love you more, m’wife.” He shakes his head, biting a smile back, “Don’t think m’ever gonna get tired of callin’ you that, Mari.”

“Me neither. Gonna be callin’ you my husband instead of usin’ your name,” you flirt as your smirk grows and he wiggles his eyebrows, hand drifting down to the curve of your ass.

“Guess we better test that theory, baby.” He grins as he bends his knees, lifting you over his shoulder. His other hand rests on your ass to balance you, your hands pressing against his lower back as you shriek slightly from the initial shock. “Want the whole neighborhood to know m’your husband now. Even if they weren’t invited, so you better be loud, m’gorgeous wife.”

He walks you both up the stairs and through the backdoor, your snort echoing in the quiet of the night, pulling out the ol’ faithful from the early days with him, “Yes, sir.”

second nature

“What do you think about getting a dog?” you ask from your seat on the bed, propped up against the headboard with a book in your lap. Joel pops his head out from the en-suite, brow quirked as he continues to towel off his hair and laugh softly.

“Can’t say I’ve thought about it, darlin’.” He disappears again, hanging his towel on the back of the door before coming back out of the bathroom with a clean pair of boxers on, washed up from his long day on-site. “Have you been thinking about getting a dog?”

A sheepish grin stretches across your face, shrugging your shoulders as Joel gets into bed. He matches your position, leaning back against the headboard and turning his head toward you. He’s intrigued. If he wasn’t, he’d tell you that you could talk about it more in the morning, and then he would give you his honest opinion in the light of day. Never wanting to start a silly argument before bed, always attempting to keep the peace.

Which made him great at compromising. To what you wanted in the first place.

“I’ve been thinking it would be nice for Sarah. Like something to learn responsibility — teaching her to feed it on schedule and take it for walks and fill the water bowl.”

“Yeah, it’ll teach her that I’ll take on all those responsibilities when she gets bored of it,” your husband snorts at his own comment, making you roll your eyes playfully and scoot closer.

“Oh, c’mon, J. Don’t you think it would be fun to have a dog around? We wouldn’t even need to get a puppy if you think it’s too much. But I work at home nannying baby Amelia so I’d be around all day and then when Sarah gets home from school or camp, she can take him or her for a walk. And then feed it before you even get home. Oh! Or you could take the dog to work with you! How cute would that be, you could train him to grab your tools for you.”

A contagious smile brightens your face in the low lamplight, one that Joel can’t help but mirror on his own face. The eagerness is evident in your expression and your voice, and the proposition doesn’t seem like it would be too difficult of an adjustment. Shaking his head at your suggestions, he laughs quietly while reaching a hair up to smooth your hair away from your face.

“Are you gonna be the one to teach it what all the different screwdrivers are?”

An excited gasp exhales and you scramble to straddle Joel’s lap, “Wait, are you serious? You’re actually okay with getting a dog?”

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you lean back to look at his face. His hands find the curve where your thighs melt into your ass, squeezing gently. Always handsy.

“Yeah, baby, we can get a dog.” Joel groans dramatically when you pull yourself tight against him, hugging him while on hand rubs back and forth at the base of your spine. “I’ve got some conditions though.”

Unraveling from his neck, you stay perched in his lap, nodding fervently. “Anything. Whatever you want, if it means we get a dog.”

“Oh, anything?” he teases with another squeeze of your bum, laughing when you shoot him a look.

“Not what I meant, Miller. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Can’t help it with you, sweet girl. My mind’s always in the gutter around you.” The sentiment is punctuation with a tender kiss to your lips and one to your forehead. Calloused palms skate along your bare thighs, humming contently, “Conditions are: has to be a big dog. Don’t want one of those little white dogs or like something that’ll break if we have babies and they’re a little rough with it.”

The forethought he has for your future children warms your heart, and you agree immediately, “Deal. Didn’t want a little dog anyways. What else?”

“Gotta fence in the backyard. I don’t mind putting in a gate for us and your parents to easily go back and forth through, but I don’t want the chance of the dog gettin’ out when we’re all outside.”

“Totally understandable. I’ll even help you install the fence,” you offer proudly.

“That’s real sweet, Mari baby, thank you. You don’t gotta lift a finger though, I’ll bring some of the guys over and pay a little extra and we’ll get it done in a day, no problem.”

“Alright, so big dog, fence. Anything else you’d like to negotiate, Mr. Miller?” you mock a formal tone, turning your nose up. Joel laughs, tightening his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. Kisses press into your neck and along your jaw, pausing inches away from your lips as he makes his final request.

“Dog sleeps in Sarah’s room or downstairs. I like our privacy.” He smirks before kissing you deeply, easily flipping you onto your back and hovering above you. Your legs hook around his waist and he raises his eyebrows, “That all sound fair to you, Mariposa?”

“Absolutely it does. Guess we’re getting a dog, ri—” You’re cut off by his lips on yours again, pressing you further into the mattress with his body weight.

“Let’s save the rest of this for the morning,” Joel mumbles against your skin as he trails his mouth down your neck to your collarbone, “‘Cause right now, I think I’d rather get some pussy.”

He doubles over in laughter at his own joke, forehead pressing against your chest as his shoulders heave. Your fingers comb into his hair, unable to fight quiet chuckles of your own no matter how hard you try to not give him the satisfaction.

“God, you’re such a dork.”

The clock rolls to 3pm as you sit in your car, lined up along with parents of campers. Shrills of laughter and screams echo from the bright, primary-colored playground across the way, counselors attempting to corral the kids to lead them out for pick-up. Air conditioning blasts on you as you fan at the back of your neck, exhaling in the sweltering Texan heat. It’s only the beginning of summer, June barely having turned over, but the temperatures have reached record highs for the year already.

Your stepdaughter. The thought still makes you smile months on, the dynamic between the two of you falling naturally into a closer, more nurturing relationship. Little acknowledgments from Sarah have made your heart sing over the days; routinely saying goodnight to you along with Joel, asking you for permission to go play outside, seeking you out nearly as much as Joel when she has had a nightmare. The pair of you have built routines of your own before bed, you making a promise to Sarah to read with her and to show her your favorite books from when you were her age.

A few nights ago, Sarah had retreated with you to her room, at least thirty minutes before her bedtime to get in another chapter of Matilda by Roald Dahl. The main character reminded you of Sarah’s sweet and spunky personality, and you were so excited that she fell in love with the story and its characters as quickly as you did when you read it for the first time.

Sat up against her headboard, Sarah laid back in your arms and cracked open the novel where her bookmark stuck out, started to read aloud to you in the low lamplight. Mindlessly, you played with her hair as you listened to her confidently recite the words from the page. The day caught up to you, the peaceful moment pulled a yawn from your lungs. Sarah’s words slowed down, her eyes slowly blinking until they closed, which was your queue to slip the book from her hands and mark the spot, and laid it on her nightstand.

When you tried to slip out from behind her to leave her to sleep soundly, she stirred, mumbling the sweetest, “Will you stay for a little bit, Posey?”

And you had no choice but to oblige her request. After getting comfortable next to her, Sarah curled into your side and you pressed a kiss to her forehead, continued to play with her hair to soothe her back to sleep.

What you hadn’t realized was that you also drifted off in her twin bed with her, the lamp still on. Joel was watching TV downstairs, waiting for you to retreat down the steps as you do every night, but no sign of you after an hour had him standing up to go searching. It was quiet when he reached the top of the stairs, no telling giggles or loud whispers to give the two of you away.

He pushed open the cracked door of Sarah’s bedroom, and was met with a sight that squeezed his heart tight, a sigh exhaled from his lungs. You tucked right next to his little one, and both slept deeply. Without disturbing your rest, he tiptoed over to the nightstand, tugged the blanket up over both of you before he hovered above the bed to press a gentle kiss to each of your foreheads.

Lamp clicked off, he whispered to your unconscious ears, “G’night, girls. Love you two.”

It was a few hours before your usual alarm when you’d woken up, sore from the small space and glanced around the dark room to discover you had fallen asleep next to Sarah. Carefully slipped out from the covers, you tucked her back in and padded down the hall to your bedroom where Joel was sleeping, a soft snore came from him as he’d starfished out on the mattress. You gently shook him half awake to move him, and he groaned softly at the disruption before he tugged you into his chest and pressed a drowsy kiss to your shoulder.

“Was jus’ too cute to wake you up, Mari baby. My Mariposa and my lil’ Bug…” He hummed sleepily into your skin, hand gently rubbed circles in your lower belly while your eyes close, desperate for those last few hours of slumber. “Makes me so happy.”

“Me too, J. M’so, so happy she’s that comfortable with me. My baby best friend. And you’re my big baby best friend…” You breathed out an airy giggle and Joel protested weakly behind you, a gentle pinch to your side before you both exchanged a quick “love you” and drifted right back off.

The reminder of the sweet moment in the morning from Joel was the highlight of your week.

Climbing out of the car, the engine running and door open, you round the front bumper and stand on the curb to wait. You find her before she finds you, calling out to her to grab her attention, “Hey, sweet pea!”

Her familiar deep brown irises search for the source of your voice, landing on your face and waving excitedly. Sarah checks out with her counselor for the day, scurrying over to you with her backpack bouncing at her shoulders.

“Hi, Posey!”

She collides with your torso, her growth spurts finally starting over the last few months so the top of her head hits just at your chest, and nearly knocks the wind out of you. Patting her back, you laugh and pull her back to look her in the face, “Well, hello to you too, Sare Bear. How was camp today? You ready to go?”

After your greetings, she climbs into the backseat on the opposite side of Amelia’s car seat. You store her bag in the passenger seat with yours before retreating around to the driver’s side, heading off once both of you are secured in your seatbelts.

Flicking your eyes up in the rearview mirror, the two of you catch up, which mostly consists of her recapping the camp activities and excitedly talking about the pool day that’s planned for Friday. As you turn onto your street, Sarah’s brow furrows at the sight of Joel’s truck in the driveway.

“Dad’s home already? That’s weird.”

“Hm, I guess he is. Or maybe he’s just stopped by to grab something he forgot. You know how he is.”

Sarah laughs in agreement as you park your car next to his truck. Both of you get out and head in through the garage, straight into the kitchen where Joel’s standing at the counter eating a sandwich.

“Told you, Sare, stopped by ‘cause he forgot something. Lunch.” You send him a teasing grin as you deposit Sarah’s bag by the door and kick off your sandals. She does the same before wandering past her dad to the fridge in search of a snack. Apple doesn’t fall far.

“What? I can’t happen to drop in hoping to see my wife and my daughter in the middle of my work day? Do I have to have ulterior motives?” Joel speaks, words muffling around the bite in his mouth as you approach the island to stand opposite him.

“Dad, you literally always ask ‘What’s for dinner?’ or ‘What’s cookin’?’ after you say hi to us every day. Your motivation is always to get some food,” Sarah chimes in from in front of the fridge, laughing when Joel looks at her offended.

“See? Even a ten year old recognizes the pattern of behavior,” you confirm your findings, laughing as Joel grumbles to himself and pops the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth.

“Well, for your information, both of you, I am here for an entirely different reason than lunch and to see you two.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking between the two of you with a mischievous smile on his face. “Why don’t y’all go look in the living room and then tell me if you wanna keep makin’ fun of Dad?”

Sarah excitedly starts off toward the living room, giddy about the surprise awaiting her. Your brow furrows and lips twist up in curiosity, eyes staying glued to Joel. He laughs and nods to the other room, a bright smile on his face.

“Better go see, mi amor. Think you’ll want to meet him.” Joel winks, your attention being pulled away when you both hear Sarah gasp from the living room.

“Oh my gosh! Posey, come here! Aw!”

That’s when it registers — the surprise, home in the middle of the day, the smirk, ‘you’ll want to meet him’.

“You didn’t,” you breathe out, head snapping back to Joel as he gives you a wide, genuine grin.

“Go! See for yourself.” He rounds the island and grabs your hips from behind, guiding your steps into the living room. Sarah’s giggles fill the room as the fluffy Bernese Mountain puppy stands in her lap and licks at her face. The small dog’s attention is pulled from her and over to you and Joel entering the room, a tiny bark sounding before he scampers over.

“Joel, oh my god, how did you—when—oh my god…” You kneel down to scoop up the little one into your arms and cuddle it gently, giving it pets before letting him run around again.

“Found someone who had a litter with their family dogs the day after we talked about it. And arranged to pick him up. They said he’s the energetic one, and that he’s gonna be a big boy. Like a hundred pounds.”

“Oh my god, he’s so sweet…thank you, J.” You beam up at him, waving him to bend down and steal a kiss, squeezing his shoulder.

Sarah’s playing with your new family dog, tugging with a rope toy as he fights back with his whole little body. “Thank you, Dad. He’s so cute!”

“What should we name him?” Joel asks as he lowers himself to the floor next to you, smiling as the puppy runs over. The two rough house, Joel easily flipping him over to scratch at his belly as the dog pants happily.

“Any ideas, Sare?” you ask, looking over at her.

She thinks for a moment before looking up between Joel and you, laughing at the tiny pup’s antics, “What about Goose? He just seems like one. Like a silly goose.”

“Goose? I like it, Bug,” Joel confirms, turning to you with a grin, “How about you, Mari?”

Nodding, you look at the new addition to the family, burning bright with happiness at your people’s excitement, “I think Goose is a perfect fit. And now you’re not outnumbered anymore, J. Two girls and two boys in the Miller household.”

Sarah laughs and lays down to cuddle with Goose while Joel moves closer to your side, wrapping an arm around you and kissing your head as he quietly whispers, “Hopefully won’t be too long before the boys are outnumbered again.”

“And what makes you say it won’t be us girls being outnumbered?”

“Call it father’s intuition. Wouldn’t know what to do with a little boy, bein’ a dad to another girl would just be second nature. Plus, I would want a mini Mari running around the world.” Joel presses a kiss to your temple before you turn your head, catching his pursed lips with yours sweetly.

“I’d take anything if it means havin’ a little piece of you forever, J.”

third time lucky

Negative.

A single line, bold and brash, stares back at you. Turning the plastic in your hands, you attempt to read it at different angles, the smallest bit of hope lingering for another line to appear — that it was a trick of the light that was causing your disappointment.

To no avail, the blue strip remains unaccompanied in the small window. A sinking feeling fills your body from your toes up. Everything feels heavier, except your lower stomach. That has never felt as empty as it is now.

Heavy footsteps thump a vibration in the floors, but your focus remains on a speck of dust floating in the light past your field of vision. His presence hangs in the bedroom, milling about, unknowing of what you were up to before he came in from mowing the lawn.

“Hey, baby, m’gonna take a shower and then we’ve got Sarah’s softball game at three. Probably half to leave here around two, her coach asked all the parents to be thirty minutes early for some reason…” Joel’s voice fades in your head as your thoughts start to yell, scream, fight, taunt inside of your mind.

A hard swallow pops your ears, the ringing in them growing louder as your mind begins to wander. The test is left discarded on the bathroom counter, with no heart yet to throw it in the garbage where the others have ended up. Your bare feet shuffle against the rug as you seek out solace under covers, even in the ninety-plus-degree heat. The springs of the mattress shift under your weight, lying on your side facing the opposite side of the bed that lays empty right now. The coverlet is pulled up over you, curling your fingers at the hem tightly, white knuckle grip to release some of the tension that has taken over your mind. You want to scream, cry, yell, question — but what you want most of all is to be able.

Why aren’t you able? Why can’t you do what your body is made to do, what it begs for, what it reminds you that you’ve failed at every month?

Joel stands in observation of you, careful distance, one hand lifting before he drops it. He can guess what this is about. What you’ve left behind in the en-suite. But to confirm his suspicions, he quietly walks into the tiled room, leaving his clean clothes on the counter while he picks up the test.

Negative.

His body sinks, toes up to his head, but with a gaping, empty feeling in his chest. There’s so much room left in his heart, room he is eager to fill with another part of you, another love, another soul to protect. Now, though, all of his emptiness is filled with an ache for you. You’ve been dreaming out loud for a year now, wonderings and visions shared with him late nights and early mornings — Will they have his eyes? You hope so, so that they look like their sister. Who’s ears would they have? What quirks will they pick up from both of you? Who will they grow up to be? How will we be able to contain our love for both of our kids?

Our kids. Joel remembers that night; after you said that, he couldn’t hold himself back, couldn’t contain his love for you. No hesitation that his own was yours now, too. All he wanted was to give you another, to see your belly grow and your smile brighten and your skin glow. He was begging for whatever power was in the universe for that time to take, for both of you to be gifted with what you wished for so often, so deeply.

Desperation. Wavering confidence. Sorrow, worry, dwindling hope. He saw it all over you, time after time when the single line appeared on the plastic sticks.

You and Joel had been trying for a year. A long year. Maybe your desire was too strong, too overpowering. But shouldn’t that be a sign of your love? For each other, for your family? All he wants to do is give you the life you’ve wished for. And yes, all you’ve said you want is a life with him, but anyone who meets you would be able to tell you are meant for a nurturing life. Meant for motherhood.

It was already natural for you, taking a ten-year-old in stride, making her into your best friend — making her a priority over Joel most of the time. He knew it didn’t matter to you that she wasn’t yours, biologically speaking, but he can’t help but want to give you a child that is part you. How badly he wants another piece of you in the world, all of your goodness packaged into the purest soul.

Resigning with a sigh, he sets the test down on the cool countertop and exits the bathroom, a slow stride over to your lying form. Crumpled under covers. With a soft groan, he lowers himself to his knees with cracks popping his joints. His age is starting to show the closer he gets to forty and the more hours he works in the summer weather, another looming factor for him — he’s only known being a young dad. If you two have to wait, what would it be like to be nearly sixty when your kid graduates high school?

Shaking the superficial concerns from his head, his wide palm glides along the quilted fabric draped over your side. He rests his chin on his opposite arm, laying against the mattress close to your pillow. At the coax of his touch, you turn over to face him. Lips pursed in a frown, dried watery streaks being washed anew with your fresh tears, fat and rolling down your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose. They drip off of your skin, dotting and darkening the fabric of the pillowcase underneath you.

Joel leans in, brushing your hair from your face and pressing his lips to your forehead for a lingering kiss. A deep breath draws the smell of your shampoo into his nose, down deep into his lungs where it soothes his aching chest.

“Mari, sweet girl, I know it’s hard. I know we want it so bad, but there’s always another option,” he speaks softly, kindly, delicately, “We can go to that fertility specialist your doctor recommended. I promise, mi amor, we’ll have a baby together.”

He means it, and you can tell he means it. Ever since you had been back together, ever since he confessed his feelings for you — years ago now — he hasn’t made an empty promise. From tiny little things like a pledge to stop on the way home for your favorite ice cream, going to three different stores and adding nearly an hour to his day simply to show up with it for you, to larger, grander oaths, his wedding vows, the promise of building a beautiful life with you.

Emotion is thick in your throat as you attempt to vocalize your concerns. They keep you up at night, with Joel’s warm and expansive hand resting on your stomach right above your womb as he sleeps soundly. He wants it clearly as much as you do; you can feel it each time you’ve tried. How badly he wants to provide this for you.

Is he having the same thoughts as you? Does he wonder if something’s ‘wrong’ with you?

“I wanna be able to do it. Why can’t I do it on my own?” The sound of your meek voice shatters his heart and he shakes his head back and forth, adamant in shutting down the thoughts.

Tugging the covers down, Joel’s hands find your exposed skin, sliding across with a clammy touch from his labor outside. And nerves, too, you’d guess. Moving from his knees on the floor next to the bed, he finds a spot sitting at your side and shifts you to lay on your back. Opening up to him. Warmth rests over your womb, blanket pulled down to the tops of your thighs while his thumb brushes at your stomach, catching on the fabric of your shirt.

“No—oh, mi Mariposa, you don’t even know if it would be you with an issue. Very well could be me. Maybe breathin’ all the paint fumes at work killed m’little swimmers.” He breathes a small laugh through his nose, attempting to lighten the mood.

Your hands fly up to your face, muffling your voice, “Oh, god, don’t say that. I wanna have your baby, not some sperm donors.”

His hand coasts up your torso, over to your side to wrap around your rib cage, feeling your breaths as his fingertips lightly tickle the spot, “That was supposed to make you laugh, sweet girl.”

Hands falling away from your face, your brow pinches together and your frown deepens. About to make a retort, your mouth open, Joel skates the fingertips of both his hands up and down your sides, alternated on each side of you to make it harder to catch his wrists. Laughter bubbles up from your chest, your frown morphing into a flashing smile before you’re calling for a surrender in between gasping breaths.

Relenting, his hands stop, settling at the curve of your waist. He leans over you, nudging his nose against yours before pressing a ghosting kiss to your lips. A small grin, hopeful and reassuring, with a tinge of worry flickering in his irises, barely there before his smile reaches his eyes, “It’ll happen for us, Mari baby. Why don’t we say, one last go before lookin’ into the doctors? We’ll do all the things, track whatever we need to track. I’ll drop whatever I need to come home and put a baby in you.”

Joel wiggles his eyebrows, playful smirk crossing his expression. You roll your eyes under him, pushing an accusing finger into his chest, “Like you don’t already do that. I could call you in the middle of work and just go ‘Hey, J’ and you’re in the truck on your way home.”

“That’s right, Mari. As it should be. Y’know what they say — happy wife, happy life.” Another kiss to your lips, this one a bit more savoring. “What d’ya say, mi amor? One more go?”

“Okay, yeah. One more go.”

Butterflies kick up in your stomach when you hear the low rumble of Joel’s truck cut, heavy door swinging closed and quick strides following. The front door opens after a short jingle of keys, shutting behind him with the slide of the lock back into place. Distant grumbles of his make you laugh, his frustrations with his work boots floating upstairs to where you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on your hands. Clad in only your bra and panties, you work your bottom lip between your teeth as anticipation builds with each of Joel’s footsteps up the carpeted stairs.

You both only have the afternoon — less than an hour of your afternoon, actually — to make your last attempt. Already having taken advantage of the window in your cycle twice, the peak day of your ovulation fell, of course, during the busiest time of year for Miller Construction. Summer has come to a close, and now people have picked up their home improvements to start nesting for the winter; a craving you’ve been having yourself, desperate to make your home larger and livelier by one more. Joel has snuck away for a moment that you two have alone, and you’ve told the couple you nanny for that you have an immovable appointment for today.

Pretty sure the only thing that will be immovable today will be you once Joel’s hour is up.

“Mari? Mi amor?” he calls out and you chuckle softly at the boyish excitement in his voice.

“In the bedroom, J!”

Joel rounds the doorway into your shared room, stopping a handful of steps past the threshold when he registers the sight of you. He hums a low moan, licking his lips as his eyes devour your lacy undergarments, “Mierda, mi esposa, estás tratando de matarme? (Shit, my wife, are you trying to kill me?) You look so fucking beautiful, darlin’.”

A low whistle leaves his lips as he stalks closer, eyes rake over your form as you present your primped self for his taking.

“You get all pretty for me, sweet girl? I like this…” he rasps as he’s within arm’s reach now, stretching a hand out to toy with the strap of your bra and snapping it against your skin sharply.

“Wanted to look pretty when you fill me up, J.” One curl of his finger under your chin draws you to sit up straight, tilting your head back to look at Joel towering over you.

“Good girl,” he praises, a glint of excitement in his eyes, “You want me to fill up your sweet little cunt, Mariposa? Want me to give you a baby? Tell me.”

“Yes,” you breathe out shakily, eyelids fluttering closed as his hands trail lightly across your exposed skin, ghosting everywhere you need him most.

“More, sweetheart. Dime. Dime cuánto lo deseas. Suplicar por ello. (Tell me. Tell me how badly you want it. Beg for it.)” His instructions float through your head, only keywords translating in while Joel leaves over you, lips pressing feather-light kisses along your neck, across your chest.

“I need it, Joel. Need you so fucking bad, I wanna have your baby. Want you to make me a mom, fill me up as many times as it takes until we get our baby…please, J…” As if the taste of you wasn’t enough to do him in, the wild, fervent look in your eyes intrigues him beyond. Hearing the words from your lips, directed to him, he’s fucking aching. He was growing hard on his way over here, the thoughts swimming through his mind of you laid out and ready for him to take delegating his blood supply to rush down below his belt.

He needs you, but first, he needs to see you unraveling underneath him only from his fingers.

“Don’t worry your pretty little mind, Mari. M’gonna take care of you. I’ll make sure this one takes. Let’s call it third time lucky this summer.”

He shoots you a wink, your mouth parting to respond. Before you can let any breath escape, his lips are crashing with yours. Heavy, heady, and so fucking hot it spirals your thoughts into nothing. His tongue melts with yours, the taste of his black coffee and the donut he must have eaten at work this morning tingling your taste buds. Sweat sticks to his skin when your hands rest at the sides of his neck, falling backwards as he climbs over you. He smells of wood shavings, freshly mowed grass, and hard work — calloused hands gliding along your body and feeling the softest of scratches of his blue collar hands.

“Joel, need you — please.” It’s more of a whine than a begging whimper, rising frustration levels from his lack of touch in the place you need and want him the most.

Your cunt is desperate, dripping down your folds and surely soaking the sheets. A quick jerk of your hips attempts to brush against him, to catch any relief for the need building low in your stomach. A large palm presses your lower half back against the mattress, the other hand pushing your leg to the side to open you up further for him. A knuckle brushes your clit, grazing up and down your seam through your soaked panties. Your husband clicks his tongue as he shakes his head at you, patronizing tone slick in his voice.

“Darlin’, I wanna take every second of my time with you. Are you gonna let me? Gonna let me get your cunt squeezing my fingers? Gonna let me fill you up, mi amor?” he asks, as if you wouldn’t say yes to all of those requests and he knows it. Nodding, a desperate yes exhaled when he applies more pressure with his finger against your clit, rubbing slow circles. “Good girl. Siempre tan bueno para mí. (Always so good for me.)”

Joel folds over your, taking one of your perked nipples into his mouth through your bra and sucking. His tongue flattens against the cup before he’s pulling at the nub with his teeth. The material is darkened where his mouth was when he grows a bit more needy, grabbing at the straps and yanking the bra to rest at your midsection. You slip your arms out of the straps and he pushes you further onto the bed by the back of your thighs, stripping your panties off and settling on his knees.

Pressure forms against your clit from two of his fingers, slow circles dragging a moan from your throat. Joel smirks, satisfied with the way you squirm under him, trying and failing to get more from his hands. Before you can vocalize a whine, Joel is over you again, bringing his attention to your now bare breast while the circles continue. Hot, humid kisses are littered on the soft skin, happy hums rolling from Joel’s chest. He pulls his head up, looking down at your chest with a half grin and his dimple on display.

“You’re gonna get so soft and swollen everywhere, Mariposa. Round belly, huge tits—can’t wait to play with ‘em.” His grin widens, boyish and brazen with the glee that the fact fills him with. “You gonna let me, baby? Gonna let me make your sore tits feel better with my mouth?”

His question goes unanswered as his mouth attaches to one of your nipples, sucking and flattening his tongue as he nurses it. Pulling away with a pop, he mimics the same on the other side, the intensity of his suckling along with his fingers rubbing faster against your clit — even slipping down to tease at your entrance — has you wiggling under him, desperation notching up your spine.

“Joel, please,” you plead, choking on your breath when he pulls the bud of your breast between his teeth, a low growling sound rumbling from his throat.

Two of his thick fingers push into your dripping cunt, a relieved moan echoing against the walls of the bedroom. Curling up into your spongy walls, they thrust quickly and pet at the certain spot inside of you. Joel’s mouth is still at your chest, his hunger feeding itself on the taste of your skin.

“Fuck, Mari, gonna break my fucking fingers off. So fucking tight.”

A distraught whimper crawls from your chest, breaths heaving as your walls clench around his quick-paced fingers. You gasp when he slips a third one in, hooking them up. Despite the stretch, you still feel an emptiness. All you want is his cock inside of you, spilling into you and leaving you to grow fuller with his baby. The thoughts of him above you, fucking it all deeper into you to reach your womb, drive you over the edge. The tips of his fingers press against that spot inside of you, his warm mouth hanging open at your tit while his eyes watch you come undone. Writhing and walls pulsing around his fingers, his name falls from your mouth as you choke out moans and your vision grows dark.

“That’s it, Mari baby, fuck,” Joel works you through the orgasm before his fingers leave you and he sits back on his haunches. Sucking his digits clean of your slick and come, the other hand rubs your thigh gently before he coos down at you, “That was a big one, wasn’t it? Feel good?”

Still coming down from it all, your body feels liquidity, taking whatever form Joel is molding you into right now after he’s stripped himself bare. One hand slips under you, unclasping your bra and tugging it away from your torso, leaving you as naked as him. His eyes drink in your body while his grip holds your calves, chuckling darkly when you finally breathe out a response, “I feel…like I need you to put a baby in me.”

“Cualquier cosa para usted, mi esposa. Vas a estar tan lleno de mí. Te encanta la sensación de mi mecos dentro de ti, ¿verdad? (Anything for you, my wife. You're going to be so full of me. You love the feeling of my cum inside of you, don't you?)” Your head rolls with a nod, agreeing to anything Joel says in the moment, still hazy from how hard he’d made you come moments ago. Half-lidded eyes watch as he licks his fingers, stroking his cock a few times with a quiet sigh. That’s something you could watch all day — Joel’s pleasure. And here underneath him, you have the perfect view, and the perfect position to be used for it.

Fully handing over control to him, his hands tug you up so your ass sits on his thighs while he’s on his knees. Fingertips skate along the distance of your legs, grabbing at your calves to rest them on his broad shoulders. Even the slightest shift forward from his hips stretches you wide, a delicious ache creating a craving for more.

“Tell me how bad you want it, Mari, tell me how much you wanna have my baby.”

Joel’s gripping his length, rubbing his tip through your wet folds. The notches against your clit quiver the already stretched muscles in your thighs, whines replacing words coming out of your mouth.

“Tell me, or I won’t give you what you want, mi amor.”

“I want it so bad, J. I wanna feel you fuck me so full of you, and I don’t want that feeling to leave. I feel like there’s an emptiness and only you can fill it, I want your baby. Wanna have everyone know how good I am for you, carrying your baby like you want me to. I wanna have a part of you forever,” you gasp out the last word, Joel’s cock inching into you. Muscle memory takes over, your whole body relaxing with the knowledge that he’ll take care of you — he’ll always take care of you.

Joel bottoms out easily, filling you to the hilt before he pauses to take a breath. His eyes meet yours and he smiles, sweet and sincere, while holding your shins, “I fucking love you, mi Mariposa. Wanna give you a baby…”

“Pleasepleaseplease—” You don’t know if you’re begging more for him to give you what you want or to move his hips, but in the end, you get both.

Joel starts out slow, shallow thrusts keeping him inside of you. Grunts from the controlled movements fill the room, your small whimpers following each noise he makes. The sound of him fucking into your cunt captures his attention, gaze zeroed in on where you two meet. Watching the stretch of your tight pussy around his cock, he feels the burning desire for more. To watch you take it deeper, harder.

The next snap of his hips is just that - smacking his skin against your ass before he adjusts, laying you back completely on the mattress and leaning over you. Your legs are still hooked over his shoulders, the burning of your muscles now straining your hamstrings and glutes. His entire body folds you, his head hovering over yours as he fucks into you further. The tip of his cock kisses your womb, the force of his thrusts driving your hips open more for him.

“Gonna — fuck — gonna make you a momma, Mariposa. That what you want? Get fucked so well, be so full of me that we make a baby? Everybody’s gonna know I treat my wife right. With your round belly…swollen—ah—swollen tits. Gonna be so beautiful, and so fucking sensitive everywhere.”

His words only add onto the feeling of his thick cock filling you up, nearly verging on too far and too much. Moans exhale on your lips, his name repeated like a chant with each harsh snap of him into you. Your hands scramble for purchase as his sheer power drives you up the mattress, sheets scratching against your bare back. One set of fingers dig into the meaty flesh of his shoulder, nails pressing crescent shapes like an iron-hot branding.

Above you, Joel studies how your mouth has fallen open, thoughts completely left your mind with how cockdrunk you are. He gingerly grips your chin, holding it to face him and commanding your eyes to his as he pants heavily.

“What d’you wanna make me, baby?” It’s only met with the sounds of his cock dragging in and out of you, the slap of skin as you gasp under him. “C’mon, Mari baby, use your words.”

“A daddy,” you breathe out, your opposite hand combing into his messy curls and gripping tight.

“Say it again. Dime.” Not thinking it was possible, Joel pushes you further, hitting into you harder with each thrust nudging his tip toward your cervix. You might only leave this afternoon with soreness, but you continued to hold out hope for a baby to be the well-worth prize for how you’re going to feel tomorrow.

“A daddy!”

“Dime. Dime. Dime,” he commands and you listen, writhing under him as he hacks away at your shared resolve, throwing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Daddy — oh, fuck, a daddy. Wanna make you a daddy!” You’re yelling at this point, sobs of pleasure wracking your body and you thank god for a split second that the two of you are home alone in the middle of the work day. Surely the whole block might be hearing all of your wanton sounds.

“God, I could get used to you calling me that, Mari baby,” Joel groans and throws his head back, bearing his teeth as he punches his hips into your clenching pussy, the telltale sign that you’re close.

“C’mon, mi amor, give it to me. Come for me and I’ll let your fucking pussy milk me for every last drop. That’s what you want, right? Gotta fill you up and make a baby for my Mari baby.” He’s rambling as you reach your peak, toes curling and coming even harder than your first one this afternoon.

A near scream pulls itself from as deep as your gut, the sound as if you were in more pain than the absolute pleasure you feel. Your grip on his hair tightens, drawing him down for a messy kiss as you mumble against his lips.

“Please gimme a baby, J. Need it all inside of me, please. Come for me, mi esposo.”

The name sends goosebumps across his shoulders and trickles down his spine before he’s barking your name once and spilling into you, painting your walls with each rope. He takes a moment to breathe before he gently presses his hips in a few short thrusts, fucking his spend as far into you as possible.

Joel collapses against your torso, no other efforts exerted to move away. Delicate, nimble touches brush the hair from his sweaty forehead, rubbing his shoulders as he hums contently.

“Fuck, baby, might just have to stay inside. Keep you plugged up so I can stay here all day with you.” Quiet, breathless laughter leaves your lips as you shake your head, tracing along his jaw before he turns his head to press his lips into your tummy.

“Can’t wait for you to be a momma. Gonna be the best one ever, y’already are. Love you so much.”

The two of you lay like that for what feels like hours, only to be reminded of Joel’s limited schedule when his cell starts ringing from downstairs. Getting up with a groan, he slips out of you and lifts your hips, stuffing a pillow or two underneath them to keep your lower half elevated. You roll your eyes at the superstitious gesture, gasping when his fingers push into you once more to put his leaking come back into where it belongs.

“Gotta make sure it takes, pretty girl. Wanna see you get all round with my baby in you. Everybody’ll know how good I am to you, huh? Pumping you full of me so much we made a new fucking life…better stay like this until I get home again, Mari baby. Wanna make sure those lil swimmers get all the help they can get.”

“Mm…” you hum, hands grabbing for him to lean over you again. Sneaking a kiss, you pull away to whisper to him with a grin on your lips, “Better get back to work…daddy.”

He snorts out a laugh, beaming a bright smile as mischief glimmers in his eyes, “Mal. Mala chica. (Bad. Bad girl.)”

Three days late. You’ve been tracking your cycle like a mad woman, ticking off days in the notebook next to your bed, and now you’re officially three days late. Joel and you had agreed to wait a few days after you expected your period, hopeful that the extra time meant a more accurate, and desired, result.

The kitchen timer sitting on Joel’s side of the bed ticks away while you side on the edge of the bed. Tapping your fingers against your thighs, bare skin against your fingertips from the high hem of your denim shorts. Joel paces the room, eyes focused a thousand yards ahead. Anxiety and anticipation had been plaguing both of you all day, work slugging by minute by minute, second by second. Joel had left the jobsite as soon as was acceptable, leaving Tommy to wrap up, and swung by the pharmacy to pick up a new box of tests. Your task for the day was to chug water, or any liquid, all afternoon — by the time Joel was one foot through the door, you were ready to burst. Snatching the bag of tests out of his hand, you ran to the bathroom to pee in a plastic disposable cup and stick at least three tests in.

Now, you two are waiting for more seconds and minutes to tick by, added to the tally of the entire day. As you’re about to stand and stop Joel from burning treads in the area rug from walking his tight circles, a trill of a bell vibrating demands your attention. Turning off the noise in a flash, you stand and cross the room to where your husband is now frozen in place. A gentle touch to his cheek, his eyelids flutter close and he takes a long exhale before opening them again.

“Ready?” you ask, uncertainty pitching your voice up.

A minute nod, one shake of his chin, Joel’s hand finds the small of your back as he responds, “Ready, mi amor.”

His hand guides you into the bathroom, and a handful of steps from the three tests laid out on the counter, you turn around, panic twisting your expression. Joel stumbles to stop his collision with you, large palms grabbing onto your biceps to catch himself.

“M’scared, J…” Your voice is meek, cracking with emotion. This is the last shot you gave yourselves, whatever is laid on the counter either means unbridled joy or a long road of poking and prodding in countless doctors’ offices.

The warmth of his hands rubbing your arms and the press of his lips to your forehead coax you to relax, to take deep breaths, “I know, Mari baby, I would be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t scared too. But no matter what is on those tests, we’re in it together, right sweet girl?”

His index finger hooks under your chin to draw your attention up to his face, a small smile filled with love and reassurance stretching his lips.

“Always in it together, J.” You take another deep breath, turning around and nodding shortly, “Okay, now m’ready.”

“That’s my girl,” he mumbles before he’s following right behind you again, the two of you pressing yourselves to each other against the counter. Joel has an iron grip on your hips, nerves manifesting in the squeezes of his hands. Shaking fingers turn over each test before picking them all up to your lines of vision.

Two lines. Two bold lines screaming at both of you, across all three tests.

Positive.

Positive. You’re pregnant. You and Joel are having a baby.

“Holy shit…” Joel exhales behind you, smile creeping into his voice. Somehow, his grip gets even tighter as he turns you around, “Holy shit! You’re pregnant, Mari. We’re havin’ a baby! You’re gonna be a momma!”

Giddiness overcomes both of you, happy and disbelieving laughter while you hold each other in a tight embrace. Joel litters kisses around your face, catching your lips last — all teeth and tight lipped from your matching grins.

“You’re gonna be a dad again, how’s that feel?”

“Like I won the damn lottery, mi amor.”

Another kiss, supple and heavy. Joel pulls away first and shakes his head, pressing his forehead to yours, “I love you so fucking much, Mari.”

“I love you too, J.”

“You ready to go, Sare?” you ask, standing next to her seat at the kitchen table where she’s working away at her homework, reaching a hand out to play with her curls. She smiles and nods, writing down one last answer to a question on her worksheet before she lays her pencil down and stands up, rushing over toward the door.

“Just gotta get my shoes on!” she calls out, and you smile, shaking your head.

“Take your time, sweet pea! God knows it’s gonna take me longer to walk over to the door.” Your joke falls on deaf ears of your husband, who stands at the kitchen island and rolls his eyes before he’s crossing the room over to you. Within arm’s length, his hands cup the bottom of your large belly, leaning in for a sweet peck.

“Nobody cares if you move slow. Better to be careful than—”

“Careless, yes, I know. I think those might be our baby’s first words since they hear them so much from their dad,” you tease and he shrugs, kissing you again while his touch wanders across the flannel of his that you’re sporting, too tired to buy more maternity clothes that you’ll grow out of and opting for his closet every morning.

“Jus’ looking out for my girls. All three of ‘em.” He beams proudly, brown eyes shining brightly before he turns you in his arms, accompanying you to the front door where your near-teenager is waiting. Ever the sweetheart she is, she’s got your purse slung on her shoulder, car keys in hand to pass off to you. You thank her quietly, turning back to Joel as he looks between the two of you.

“Alright, have fun with your girls’ day. And call if you need anything — either of you. I’ll be waitin’ here for ya.” Joel smooths down Sarah’s hair before kissing the crown of her head; she squirms away, the teenage attitude rearing its head in some early moments, especially with her dad. There’s less patience for him, which you completely understand as a teenage girl once yourself. He huffs out a sigh as she slips out the door, heading down the front path toward your car.

“Hey, s’nothing. Teenage girl things. She loves you, and you’re the best dad.” A hand on his cheek coaxes him down to your lips, a supple kiss exchanged before he pulls away and bends to kiss the top of your belly.

“Bye, my little June Bug.” He stands upright again and steals another kiss, mumbling, “And bye, mi Mariposa. Drive safe, let me know if you need anything while you’re out. I love you.”

“We love you too. And m’speaking for the moody one, too.” Joel chuckles and rubs your bump once more before sending you on your way, watching and waving from the door as y’all drive away.

The plan for today had come about when you started to notice Sarah growing quieter, retreating to her room more often after family dinners and denying the chance at movie night some days. Joel had noticed too, but was a bit nervous to broach it with her, not wanting to make her feel bad about being more independent.

Your relationship with her though was much different to Joel’s. There was the foundation of your caretaking role with her, much more of a friend with authority when it was only you two before you were anything close to a parental figure. More open and, well, you could relate more to what she was going through. She confided in you first about girls at school being catty, about her growing crushes on boys in her grade. And this year, only a month after your due date, she will officially become a teenager. It was a strange time in any girl’s life, full of growing pains.

And on top of all of that, add on a new baby arriving. Attentions drawn elsewhere, priorities shifted to preparing for the baby. Sarah never fell to the backburner in your minds, but you didn’t know how she was feeling. Guessing by her quiet actions, you could tell she was feeling left out but didn’t want to stir up trouble.

Always the sweet girl. And you knew how that was.

So, you’d asked her for a girls’ day, excluding her dad from the fun and giving both of you some time with each other to feel like it was years before. It was all about Sarah today, no mentions of baby — no buying diapers or supplies or clothes. A promise made to yourself to make Sarah feel special, because that is exactly what she was. The baby on the way may be your first biological child, but nothing can compare to the unique bond that you have with your Sare Bear.

The day was spent waddling throughout the mall, helping her pick out new outfits and shoes for the end of the school year. Collecting a haul, you two stopped off for lunch and a trip to the nail salon before you finally made your way back home in the evening. Sarah was smiling brightly in the passenger seat, joking around with you and eagerly telling you all about the latest school drama. Your heart was about to burst with how much she’d come out of her shell again all day, even wanting to show off her new things to her dad when you both got back.

In the living room, Joel greets you two from the couch, eyes widening and a low whistle leaving his lips when he sees the damage done, “Quite some shoppin’ there, Bug. Y’all buy out the whole store?”

You wave him off and encourage Sarah to show off her haul, walking over to settle onto the sofa next to Joel. The younger Miller excitedly starts pulling out pieces and showcasing them, excitedly telling her dad exactly where she plans to wear them. His hand rests on your leg, attention completely focused on his daughter in front of him, squeezing you gently when she gets particularly worked up over something. You can tell he feels what you were in the car, heart bursting that she seems like herself again after a day spent with you.

“That’s nice, Sare Bear. I like the color,” Joel comments on the last shirt Sarah holds up, her smile still beaming as she tosses it back into the bag.

“Thanks, Mom actually picked it out! I thought it would be fun to have for camp this year, since I’m gonna start the counselor training program…” Her voice trails off as Joel listens intently. You, on the other hand, take deep breaths to hold it together, the simple moniker rolling off of Sarah’s tongue so naturally. Your heartbeat thumps in your chest, and baby Miller kicks her feet against your tummy — equally as excited.

You manage to keep it calm while Sarah recaps the rest of the day before she gathers up her shopping bags to take to her room. As she’s leaving the room, she’s quick to run over and give you a hug, leaning down to meet you where you sit on the couch. Your belly sticks out between the two of you, but regardless you pull her into a tight squeeze as she says thank you. Her curls bounce as she scampers off upstairs, the quiet sounds of her feet in the hallway queuing your watery eyes to overflow and for your nose to sniffle. Joel is grinning brightly next to you, pulling you into his lap and holding you against him as he wipes the few happy tears away.

“She called me Mom…” you whisper to your husband, afraid to admit it any louder as if it would disappear.

Joel presses his forehead against yours, a sweet kiss against your lips before he whispers back, “You have no idea how happy it makes me to know she feels that way about you.”

“I just…I feel so lucky. And maybe it’s hormones, but oh my god, I can’t stop blubbering. I’m a mom.”

“You’re the best mom. Have been to Sarah since she met you, and you’re going to be the best mom to our little one on the way.”

June 21st, 2009.

The first day of summer.

It’s the first day of summer and you’re stuck inside. Not at home, no, you’re currently propped up in a hospital bed with your legs in stir-ups, breathing in between contractions. Exhaustion weighs on your body, a full hour passing of you pushing in time with the pain in your abdomen that radiates all over. Sweat sticks your hair to your forehead and Joel sitting next to you brushes it out of the way. His other hand is limp in yours, ready to be squeezed with a vice grip whenever you need to push. Joel leans over you in level with your head, lathering on encouragements.

“You got this, Mari.”

“So strong, baby. You can do it.”

“Thank you, mi amor, thank you thank you thank you.”

The last one comes after a string of complaints against him doing this to you — despite you both knowing you begged for it nine months prior — and for having such a big head in his own baby photos that he had to have passed down to the baby.

Another wave kicks in, your doctor and nurses coaching you to give another final push. Putting every last bit of your energy behind the flex of your muscles, groaning out with pain and frustration before a piercing cry fills the room. Heavy, tiny sobs ring in your ears.

“You did it, baby, m’so proud of you. Our little girl,” Joel says in awe, glancing between you and where the doctor holds your little baby girl, summoning Dad over to cut the cord.

She’s taken away to be cleaned up and Joel returns to your side, ready to help you attentively through the afterbirth. You wave him off, begging him to go keep an eye on your little girl. Once she’s clean enough, the nurses lay her on your bare chest, the sight of her tiny fingers and toes bringing about your own cries. Your hands hold her there, delicate touches brushing against her soft skin and her damp but full head of dark brown hair.

The rest of the process is painful but smoother, shorter. Before you know it, all tests are done and Joel is next to the bed again, wiping a damp cloth across your forehead.

A rush of adrenaline, pure unfiltered need and excitement to meet your daughter keeps you awake, sitting up carefully as you accept her into your arms from your husband who’s wearing the biggest smile. He sits on the edge of the bed, hand on your leg as you study the features on her small face.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she, Mari? Looks like her momma.”

You beam, shaking your head as you place a fingertip against her nose, “See, I think she looks like her daddy. Already got the grumpy brow.”

Both of you laugh, your unbridled attention on the tiny bundle in your arms as you gush over her for minutes longer. Joel rubs your leg, drawing your eyes up to him as he asks, “So you think we picked a good name?”

“I think we picked a perfect name. Our ‘S’ girls,” you grin at him before looking down at your little girl, “Skye Isla Miller. I think it suits her perfectly.”

A bit more time is spent between only the two of you and Skye before you’re itching to see your eldest, and for her to meet her little sister. Joel retreats to where Sarah’s in the waiting area with Tommy and Maria, who’s now three months pregnant herself, waving her to come back with him. She nervously enters the room, quiet as a mouse until you reassure her with a smile and welcome her to sit in the bed next to you.

Joel makes the introductions, voice thick with emotion as he stands over his three girls, watching as his first little one meets his second, “Sarah Elena, this is your baby sister, Skye Isla.”

Sarah quietly asks permission to hold her; you lay Skye in her arms carefully, teaching her how to support her head and where to avoid her soft spot. Sarah picks up on it like a natural, adjusting her little sister when she fusses a bit, finally settling into a new set of familiar hands.

“Dad said you did a really good job, Mom. With everything today. S’pretty cool that you brought a whole person into the world…” Sarah glances over at you with a shy smile before addressing both you and Joel, “M’really happy she’s here.”

“You’re gonna be a great big sister, Bug,” Joel beams with pride as he squeezes her shoulder, leaning over to press a kiss to the crown of your head. He hums as he looks over you three, “Got my Mariposa, my Bug, and my little June Bug. Mi maripositas. Don’t think anything could beat seeing my three girls altogether finally.”

You find yourself observing your family from afar, listening with muffled ears as Joel and Sarah chat about who Skye got what features from. Cheeks aching from smiling, you can’t help but think that this summer was off to the most wonderful start, and that every summer after was only going to get better.

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albatmobile · 9 months ago

Text

a conundrum of redheaded proportions pt. 2

the second and final part of this ask!

𓅪 Rated: E | 6.5k includes: misunderstandings, confessions, selectively mute!reader, blow jobs, vaginal sex, deep throating, praise kink, spitroasting, begging, lots of smut y'all ur welcome, voyeurism, jealousy, Justice league AU

𓅪 previous hookup fem!reader x jason todd, eventual fem!reader x roy harper, eventual fem!reader x jason todd x roy harper

my Hero OC! Cardinal comes from this series: tumblr [1] [2] || ao3

It seems like fate that not even three days later Batman’s listing you off with Jason and him to lead a low-stakes mission with some of the younger, noob League members.

“Seems like we keep bumping into each other,” Roy teases you lightly before your squad’s debrief.

You quirk your head questioningly and make to apologize as if you’ve actually bumped into him.

“No, I just meant the other night,” he trails off unsurely, wondering if it’s too taboo to bring up you seeing him naked and hard in the hallway.

You don’t say anything, obviously, but you hardly even move.

Shit, he fucked up. Again.

“Er,” Roy clears his throat subconsciously, “anyway, sounds like it should be a pretty easy in-and-out type of deal, right?”

You nod bashfully and give a lame thumbs up.

Roy watches Jason sign something to you with a cheeky tinge to his movements and you respond with a flurry of sharp motions. None of it being anything Roy comes remotely close to understanding.

Roy clears his throat and both of you stop with your hands mid-sign, faces nearly touching through the armor of your masks.

It’s Roy’s turn to quirk his head.

“She said she,” Jason starts out in an obvious lie that has you instantly flicking him off. “I didn’t even say anything yet, beautiful.”

Put aside that Jason and you had just completely left Roy out of the conversation, now Jason’s giving you nicknames?

Fuck this.

“Uh,” Roy barely contains the urge to punch Jason in the stomach, knowing it’d only be in vain with Jason’s insanely padded bulletproof vest.

You huff in aggravation, looking from Jason to Roy.

“Fine, I won’t say anything.”

Okay, now Roy really feels like punching Jason. He’s supposed to be helping Roy hook up with you, not trying to steal you away for himself.

Roy’s feeling the second-hand heat from the glare you’re undoubtedly shooting Jason’s way. He can’t help but feel like you’re talking about him and he really wants to know why Jason would be refusing to tell him.

You smack at his arm and clearly sign something before motioning your head toward Roy.

“What’d she say?”

You shake your head in your hand.

Jason pats Roy on the back. “First off, just because someone’s translating doesn’t mean you talk to her through me, dumbass,” Jason says as he motions to you. Roy gulps as he follows the movement. “Second of all, she said she doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

Consider it gotten.

“Yeah, no,” Roy lies, sheepishly tugging his trucker hat lower. “No wrong idea from me, that’s for sure. Nada, baby.” God, can he shut the fuck up? “Sorry,” he says finally.

You shake your head hesitantly and look down at your hands like you’re unsure of something. When your head pops back up, you look to Jason before reaching over and squeezing Roy’s hand like a reassurance that you aren’t mad.

“Shit babe, you should already know you can squeeze more than that,” Roy spews. He slaps a freckled hand over his mouth as soon as his word vomit catches up to him, but by then, it’s too late.

If you weren’t mad before, you definitely seem upset now.

It’s as if his words electrocute you back to reality, jolting the realization that you’d actually gone ahead with the action.

“Jesus,” Jason shakes his head like he can’t believe either of you, “it’s like watching a goddamned train wreck in slow motion.”

Roy, personally, can’t believe he keeps fucking up so tremendously with you.

It comes as a relief to all three of you when your ride shows up and the mission begins, preventing any further awkward mishaps.

𓅪𓅪𓅪

Jason takes control of the ship, sitting in the pilot’s seat before discreetly signing something to you.

Roy hears you ‘tch’ before you sign something that Jason doesn’t need to translate for him. Without another word, well, sign, you saunter out of the cockpit, throwing one last look over your shoulder at Roy before walking to the back of the vessel.

It’s not fair.

It’s really not when your waist goes in so perfectly and your ass flares out unmistakably. Each sway comes with the cruel reminder he can’t touch it. He can’t touch you.

“God, she fucking hates me,” Roy sighs, slumping over in the jump seat. “God, I keep fucking up. I keep acting like a fucking pervert in front of her. It’s not fucking like me. I don’t know what’s going on,” he groans in frustration. “It’s like I’ve got zero fucking game around her and it’s really starting to piss me off. I can pick up any girl, but her? She’s seriously fucking me up, like, in the head and stuff, dude,” Roy cements his statement by jamming his index finger against his skull psychotically.

Jason clicks on the autopilot and gets up to shut the cockpit door, looking around to make sure no one’s overhearing them as he does so. When he sits back down, he removes Roy’s finger, which still remains against his forehead.

“You look and sound like you’re on fucking crack again, Roy.”

“It was heroin, but thanks. Always a class act to joke about addiction,” he mutters.

Jason can barely contain his eye roll. “Is it so hard to just, I don’t know,” Jason opens his arms dramatically like it should be the most obvious thing in the world to him, “be yourself? Don’t you think maybe, at the very least, that being yourself is a bit better than this weird, lame shit you’re pulling now?”

Roy sits there, definitely not pouting, as he takes in his best friend’s words.

Jason knows the real him and still lets him hit, so maybe…

“You’re right,” Roy sighs. He slumps back in his seat, exhaling dramatically enough for Jason to roll his eyes again. “If anyone’s gonna help me understand her, it’s you.” As much as he hates to admit it, Jason’s the only one who can offer him any sort of sage advice right now. “What should I do?” he asks.

Roy’s expectant puppy-dog-look has Jason milliseconds away from clicking the eject button and leaving Roy to figure shit out on his own. While he does eye the button, his hands remain on his knees as he takes in his friend’s desperate demeanor.

“Consider this a mitzvah,” Jason says monotonously, finally deciding to divulge Roy. “I can tell you straight up that if all you want to do is fuck her, you’re going to keep fucking up because she’s not like that.”

Well, Roy definitely hadn’t been expecting that.

“All the two of you did is fuck,” Roy points out saltily. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you ditched me to go get your dick sucked.”

“Roy,” Jason rubs at the tension steadily forming between his brows, “what did we just talk about?”

Roy puts up his hands in surrender easily. “I swear, it’s not my fault. It’s like my filter’s completely gone,” he complains.

“You’ve never had one to begin with,” Jason states plainly.

“Fine,” Roy gives in, motioning for Jason to continue.

“So, it wasn’t just a one-time thing like I told you. It’s a bit more complicated,” Jason says, leaving Roy’s eyes to bulge. “We’d been talking ever since her split with Kate, but I didn’t want to take advantage of her. She told me she rushed into things with Kate, so she wanted to take things slow.” Jason shrugs. “You know, not like jumping into something right away. Anyway, I understood, so, in the end, I just got to know her.”

Roy shoots a knowing brow but doesn’t take the bait this time. “You seem to be forgetting I’ve also known her for years.”

“Knowing someone and knowing of someone are two different things. You and I both know that, Roy,” Jason points out. “When the time finally came that she was ready, probably like a year later, that’s the day I ditched you.”

“What happened after that?” Roy asks curiously.

“It was a one-time thing in the sense that it was only one day,” Jason says. His attention shifts to the closed cockpit door as if it might somehow magically open. “After that, I never pushed and she never reached out like that again. We both got consumed in missions. When we’d finally get around to catching up, she’d act all shy again with me.”

Jason almost sounds embarrassed about the whole ordeal. He clears his throat, moving to busy himself with the controls, seemingly to signal the conversation was officially over with.

Roy can’t help but think back to how the two of you acted earlier… like you guys were close.

Fuck.

He mentally berates himself for getting in the middle of his friend’s… uh, what exactly are you to Jason? His friend with benefits?

No.

Love interest?

Roy chances a peak at Jason out of the corner of his eyes, but with his Red Hood mask on, it’s impossible to get a read on the stoic man.

This can’t be Jason’s way of telling Roy to back off, right?

“Tell me to back off and I will,” Roy says.

Jason’s helmet remains facing forward. “I could say the same for you.”

Just like that, the topic gets dropped for good and Roy’s no closer to any sort of clarity.

𓅪𓅪𓅪

Just like Batman had promised, the mission was get-in, get-out.

The swamps of Louisiana refused to be left behind as its grime sticks around long after the hostile info swap with Swamp Thing.

By the time you’re loading the dirty mutant teens back into the ship, Jason’s already calling dibs on the shower. You make sure everyone’s buckled securely into their seats before heading to the cockpit to let Jason know it’s safe for liftoff.

Your interrogating skills could use some work, Jason signs.

He can’t explicitly see it, but he knows your brow is quirked under your mask. You mean lighting him on fire wasn’t protocol? you sign back.

“The fuck are you two jabbering on about?”

Roy’s voice visibly startles you and your hands still defensively in front of your chest where they’d been signing.

“Just rehashing the mission,” Jason says. He shrugs, moving to flip a few switches on the control panel.

“You mean how she lit that oversized weed bush up like a Christmas tree?”

You snort.

He’s not usually like this. Jason looks at you before tilting his head Roy’s way. He’s trying, though, Jason signs.

You wave him off with a huff, You’re delusional.

If you’d just fucking talk to him, you’re expecting his usual response to your concern, so you’re definitely not expecting what he signs next, you’d see you’re both being delusional.

You flip him off for the second time on the mission before slipping back into your seat in the main cabin so Jason can take off.

“Women.” Is the only explanation Roy gets before the ship shoots off into the boggy, yellow sky.

Once the ship is set to fly on autopilot, Jason makes good on his dibs. His commanding boots stomp down the cabin aisle, shaking the entire aircraft as he does before coming to a halt in front of the bathroom.

“The Justice League requires an immediate debrief to be written once a mission's complete,” Red Hood's robotic voice warbles menacingly. “You have until we’re finished with this report to wash the mud from your acne-covered faces. Take any longer and your ass will be spending the ride back to base with shampoo in your hair.” His gaze shifts across the rows of seats to solidify his point to the scared prepubescent mutants who’ve yet to move. “Might wanna get a move on if you plan to rinse and repeat.”

His helmet snaps your way, gesturing you to join Roy and him up front.

You shouldn’t scare them like that, you berate him. It’s mean.

“Sorry,” he says, though he doesn’t sound it. “Thought I was, at the very least, being gentlemanly considering I just handed you private shower access.”

He doesn’t bother with signing once you’re both back in the cockpit, though you seem more focused on Roy. Even when Jason removes his helmet, you hardly react.

Truth be told, your attention is making Roy extremely nervous.

He’s already been overthinking, well, everything, but it’s worse now.

He keeps second-guessing every movement he makes. Every single word he says feels wrong no matter how long he languishes over the right thing to say.

Case in point:

“Private showers?” Roy wiggles in his seat, similarly to how Lian so often would in her highchair.

“Yeah,” is all Jason says, with a pointed look your way. “You’re welcome. Now let’s fill out this corporate bullshit so I can get Swamp Thing’s things out of my crevices.”

Roy snorts when you shiver distastefully at Jason’s choice of words.

To his surprise, Jason hands you a notepad and you begin furiously scribbling out your responses.

Meanwhile, Jason busies himself with recording Roy’s and his recollections of the mission. By the time they’re done recording, you’ve blown through six pages all filled to the brim with information. For some reason, he thinks it’s completely normal to give you a thumbs up because of this and mentally smacks himself when you respond by slamming the book shut before he can see it.

The debrief goes over smoothly, with Roy only managing to make somewhat of an ass of himself, which he considers a new personal best.

The ‘somewhat’ quickly turns to ‘a complete’ when he decides to say, “You know, for someone who doesn’t talk a lot, you sure have a lot to say.”

Jason makes a hasty ‘abort’ gesture, but it’s too late.

Roy’s fucked up for the fucking gazillionth time with you.

You don’t even react. Instead, you gesture for your phone from the ship’s safe. Jason hands it over easily enough, though he’s obviously not exactly sure where this is going.

Roy swallows heavily, focusing his attention on the setting sun, which casts a golden sheen on the clouds that pass by. He tries to block out your loud typing, but the fingertips of your costume tap thunderously against your screen until it’s all he hears.

He thinks you’ll ignore him the rest of the way back until you’re suddenly flipping the screen around his way.

Jason makes a face at Roy as if to say, ‘I told you she’s into you.’

After chatting back and forth, Roy notices you shifting uncomfortably.

Jason seems to understand immediately. “Roy, show her how to turn on the showers,” Jason insists. Roy gawks at his best friend, not missing the hidden meaning. Roy’s about to protest, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you’re already up and nodding to the back of the plane. “And, for fuck’s sake,” Jason huffs under his breath to Roy, “don’t make me wait too long.”

On the shower, or…?

Roy shakes his head, placing a delicate hand on your back to guide you into the pretty clean ship bathroom, considering how many people had just used it.

Before he loses the courage, Roy strips and turns to give you a full view of his bobbing, pink-tipped cock. He watches you hesitate to remove your mask as if it’d been a secondhand reaction. Ultimately, you do pull it off, shyly biting your lip as he drinks in your godly beauty as if it’s the first time.

You slink out of the rest of your costume at a tantalizingly slow pace as you step closer and closer to Roy.

“Think we should turn on the showers to drown this out?”

You nod with half-lidded eyes as your hands slowly descend down his chest.

The faucet squeaks as Roy fiddles with a good temperature, but you seem completely preoccupied with studying his cock. Your legs obscenely spread into a squat as you come face-to-face with his bobbing erection.

Roy has to restrain himself from smacking you in the face with his dick and forcing it down your fuckable throat for fear of scaring you off.

You seem content to stroke him at a gentle pace, with your firm grip exposing and concealing his tip as his foreskin stretches around each stroke. You draw a dribble of precome and curiously flick at it with the tip of your tongue. Roy suddenly surges forward, grabbing a fist full of your hair to cushion your head as he pushes you completely out of the spray and against the shower wall.

You release a small gasp before you’re back on his cock, this time with more fervor. Your tongue teases along his length, audibly slurping up the mess of spit you’ve left behind as you retreat.

“God, this is so embarrassing,” Roy whimpers, hips sputtering against your swollen lips. You quirk a brow at him as you pull off a move that leaves his knees shaky. “You’re so good to me, baby. There’s no way I’m gonna last, fuck.” You’ve started to deep throat him again and it’s all too much.

You’re too pretty and his one-off session with Jason did nothing to increase his rusty stamina. After a minute, he pulls out of your wet, hot mouth and spurts loads of thick come across your face and expectant tongue.

Absolutely sinful.

Once he’s breathing normally, he helps you stand up and begins babbling the moment your hand slips into his.

“I never thanked you for saving me from Enchantress of all villains, by the way,” he says when he finally comes down from the high. He’s not expecting you to respond. He just wants to get it off his chest.

You short-circuit, staring at him with an owlish gaze that leaves him mesmerized.

Roy thinks he’ll never get used to looking into your eyes. The stunning mix of colors so unique to you, private to only him and, well, the rest of the redheads in the tower, but it’s something Roy can deal with if it means he gets to hold you close again.

Your mouth quivers and he thinks he’s said something wrong until you speak.

“I’ve had the biggest crush on you since we met,” you say. Roy’s mouth goes dry as a blush steadily creeps across your plump cheeks. He watches as you subconsciously tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “I thought you hated me, though,” you admit. Suddenly, your eyes flick down to where his dick is still twitching in the aftermath and add, “Okay, well. Yeah, I just sucked you off, but still.”

Your voice is sweet, soft and understated; everything Roy never knew he needed and more.

“Cap,” Roy says, leaving your head to tilt comically in confusion. The redhead bursts into laughter at the action. “I mean, you’re lying, babe.”

He hears a quiet gasp from you before you dramatically shake your head no, then seem to remember you’ve already revealed your voice and speak, “You intimidated me.”

Roy laughs again, “Me? Intimidate you? Oh, damn. Babe, please, you’re like the definition of intimidating. I kept thinking I was fucking up and that you’d gotten the wrong impression of me.” When he finally catches his breath, he shakes his head like he finally understands what’s been going on. “I definitely should’a had Jason hook us up earlier.” He pulls you back under the spray, murmuring with your face between his hands, “I’ve wanted you for so long, beautiful. You have no idea.”

“I,” your ethereal voice cracks slightly from underuse. You clear your throat, “I always mistook your staring as you not liking me. Well, until the other night, then it finally clicked.”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to hearing you speak.

“You mean when I got a hard-on at the sight of you alone?”

He watches you swallow with greedy eyes.

“Yes.”

He groans at your answer, feeling his restraint slipping again with each passing moment under your spell. “You gonna keep talking to me when we fuck, or are we gonna need some hand signals?”

You bite at your lower lip, causing Roy’s dick to twitch back to life in response. “I could talk to you forever, Roy,” you respond honestly.

His hips buck helplessly into the small amount of air that lies between the two of you.

“Say my name again.”

It’s a command you give in to easily; over and over.

His gruff, gravelly voice is nothing like you’d ever heard on a mission before and it’s driving you crazy. Your clit twitches on command as his hands tighten into fists. It’s as if to hold himself back from taking you right here and now.

“Roy,” you tease, closing the remaining distance. Your chest squishes against his armor, eyes flicking up at him through your long lashes as if you don’t already have him completely wrapped around your finger. “I need you to fuck me.”

“You…” he trails off in a daze, searching your eyes for any signs of hesitation, “You need me to?”

In response, your eyes slide into slits and he still finds none. Your fingers trickle over his freckled shoulders, twirling around them tantalizingly slow like a promise that this is real.

“I can’t come on my fingers just by thinking about you anymore,” you breathe, shaking your head lightly. He watches as you bite at your lip again. You’re so fucking sexy, holy shit. “Not since I saw you that one night,” you admit. Roy’s dick twitches eagerly in anticipation of what’s to come. “It’s not enough anymore. I need you, I need the real thing, Roy,” you’re practically moaning as you breathe his name against his lips. “Please, don’t make me keep begging.”

“Oh?” Roy’s fiery eyebrow quirks upward as a dominating confidence settles over him. “I think that’s exactly what you’re going to keep doing, baby.” Another twitch as you gasp from his words alone. “I want you to beg me until you’re about to come,” your mouth parts as lust overcomes you, visibly filling your eyes, “then I want you to beg me to stick my cock back in your wet cunt because you’re such a needy slut for me, aren’t you?” You unwittingly nod, completely enraptured by his raw sexual energy. “I want you to rut against it like the fucking whore I know you are until I finally give in and fuck you. Then and only then, are you allowed to come. Got it, princess?”

Your eyes are wide, feeling slick already leaking out onto your inner thighs. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh,” he groans, allowing his hands to trickle down from the small of your waist to the dip right above your infamous ass, “you know exactly what you’re doing to me. Don’t you, baby?” Your fingers unclasp his remaining gear, stepping back slightly as it falls to the floor before closing the distance again. He feels your heart ramming up against your ribcage as you press into his now bare chest. “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he asks. Roy watches as your wide eyes flicker between his, searching their verdant depths helplessly and chuckles darkly, “You don’t have to say anything, princess. I got you. I’ll take real good care of you, I promise.”

You seem shocked that he understood your nonverbal cue and, to be honest, so is Roy.

His dick is aching, practically humping your thick thigh with every movement of your swollen lips keeps causing it to bob up and down. Before he can stick it in, however, there’s a wiggle and twist on the bathroom doorknob.

You both panic, looking at each other with wide eyes, when you realize that neither of you had bothered to lock the door.

Roy scrambles to hide you, fully erect cock facing the intruder, only to sag in relief when he sees that it’s just Jason.

“It’s just me,” Jason says. The raven holds his hands up in faux-surrender. He hardly seems startled by your and Roy’s naked state. If anything, he looks pleased? “Was kind of hoping Roy’s shitty stamina would mean you’d be finished by now, but I refuse to sit in my sweat any longer,” he says nonchalantly, however his eyes flick to your bare face with the hints of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up,” you say with no malice behind it. You find yourself blushing and duck in the safety of the junction of Roy’s freckle-spattered neck for solace.

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up briefly at your verbal response before he schools his surprise. “Well, don’t let me interrupt.”

Jason then begins the motions of sudsing up his body, brow quirking when he feels the continued weight of your eyes on his movements. Roy would be pissed if he weren’t busy staring, too.

Roy’s jaw nearly drops when you place your hands against the shower wall, partially under Jason’s spray, partially under the one that's already on next to it.

You arch into the wall, wiggling your hips teasingly for Roy to come closer.

Jason’s eyes flicker down out of the corner of his eyes, watching as Roy watches him. Whether for support or permission, Jason doesn’t know, but he holds Roy's gaze, nonetheless.

Roy’s cock bobs enthusiastically in response, wondering if this was all some fucked-up sex dream he was going to wake up from. Roy places gentle yet firm hands on your hips as he draws you backward against his erection. He paces himself, rubbing his tip against your slick entrance as his hands grope your ass in awe.

Jason's hard, spending a little too much time pumping his cock to spread his body wash for Roy not to notice. The way your head is pressed against the tiles keeps your face out of the spray but also means that you can see both Roy and Jason.

You huff, arching your back even further

“Talk to me, baby,” Roy practically purrs, grabbing a handful of your ass as his cock continues to rub against your slick folds. It’s enough friction to leave your legs shaking with want.

Your half-lidded eyes sear into Roy’s lower abdomen like a siren’s call and, boy, is Roy ready to go overboard.

“Please, Roy,” you moan as you press your ass against his hard cock. You wriggle backward, hoping to gain more traction, but he continues to taunt you with the promise of his heavy heat. “I want you to fuck me.”

“You need me to wreck that pretty little cunt of yours, baby?”

You nod, biting at the corner of your lip. Jason curses somewhere beside the two of you and it’s all the encouragement Roy needs to put on a show.

He drags his hands up your wet, lithe body as you perch so beautifully for him to take. He fondles your tits as he covers more and more your body with his own until his mouth is directly next to your left ear. On your right, Jason watches, emerald eyes lit with barely retrained want.

Roy smirks at his friend before turning his attention back to you. His deep voice rumbles lowly against the shell of your ear, “Beg.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, turning your head to the other side to capture his lips with yours. “I need you to fill me up, I’m so wet for you, Roy.” To prove it, you press backward into his erection- as if Roy wasn’t already restraining himself from fucking your cunt full of his come. “My pussy’s aching for you, please,” your sinful voice begs.

Jason’s remained entirely quiet up until this point. “Finger her,” he commands.

Roy barely holds himself back from shivering under Jason’s commanding tone, leaving him no choice but to obey. He teases you, tickling along your labia before briefly teasing your leaking entrance. Your mouth opens and produces a porn-worthy moan, only to remain open and empty when Roy finally reaches your clit.

Jason bites his lip, looking between you and Roy for permission to oblige to your body’s reaction. Roy looks down at you, but your tongue has already lulled out to accept Jason’s girthy cock.

Roy shifts the position so you’re all in between the two shower sprays. You’re bent over, in between the two muscular men, with your face eye-level with Jason’s bobbing cock. Meanwhile, Roy’s soft hands hold your hips steady as he lines himself back up with your entrance.

Once you’re all settled, you waste no time in surging forward to swallow around Jason’s impressive length. Spit trails down the sides of your mouth as you force him deeper down your throat.

Your muffled moans and sighs are all the encouragement Roy needs.

He whines pathetically when the tip of his cock finally breeches your tight entrance, waiting briefly as you become accustomed to his girth.

Your voice is godly, so it’s no wonder that the little pleased noises you make are heavenly. Your breathy moans echo across the small room as Roy finally takes what he’s always wanted.

The wet heat of your cunt draws the most pathetic noises out of Roy as he slowly fucks his tip into you with a fluid motion of his freckled hips. Each shallow thrust leaves you aching and pressing back into him to beg for more.

“So good for us, aren’t you, baby?” Roy bites his lip impishly as he meets Jason’s half-lucid gaze head-on. Roy’s tip catches deliciously against your twitching cunt, forcing out a wanton moan that vibrates up to the very base of Jason’s cock.

Without warning, Jason groans as he releases your hair.

Roy looks questioningly at him before he’s pulled forward by his fiery hair to meet Jason’s eager lips. Roy can tell when you’ve begun sucking again because Jason’s lips become sloppier and more aggressive as they mesh against Roy’s chapped ones. When they break apart for air, Jason’s hand remains firm in Roy’s long, fiery locks. He pants, leaning his forehead against Roy’s while you eagerly work your body in between them.

Jason takes it upon himself to punish your ass cheeks while Roy uses his free hand to tangle in your tresses and tug. All the while, the men remain connected by their violent clashing of spit and teeth above your pliant arch. You feel your inhibitions deliciously slipping with every passing moment.

For once, you’re not being quiet.

If anything, it seems like Jason knew the only way to shut up your sultry whines was with his cock. The thought alone nearly sends Roy over the edge again.

He breaks away from his raven-haired best friend to grab desperately for your swinging tits. His gentle hands squeeze and jiggle them with his thrusts slowing.

“Don’t wanna come again, baby,” he whimpers, flicking your nipples so that you unleash an equally pathetic noise.

Jason smirks. “Fuck that.”

You get no further warning before Jason’s calloused hand comes down on your ass cheek. His thick cock catches the majority of your pleasured scream, though not completely. Roy rubs the spot, completely hypnotized at the red shape forming across your skin, then quickly pulls away and motions for Jason to repeat the erotic action.

With each hit, your moan reverberates around his cock deliciously.

A particularly hard smack forces Jason deeper into your pliant throat until he’s forced to grab a fistful of your hair to control the pace.

You feel entirely filled. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the realization as you allow your biggest crushes to use your body in the best way.

“Yeah,” Jason says darkly. At the same time, he grabs your chin, squishing your cheeks in the process as he ruthlessly fucks against your swollen lips. His voice is a dark timbre that shakes every particle of your being. “Take that shit, you fucking slut,” Jason hisses. He wraps his hand around your hair again as he reaches forward to smack your ass.

Your hips stutter as you whimper against the dominant pace of Jason’s hips against your mouth. “Fuck,” you whimper.

His eyes contain an emerald ire, as if he’s just barely restraining himself from pushing Roy aside and fucking you like he knows you like. You can’t help but stutter forward, body spasming in Roy’s secure grasp as your orgasm releases a euphoric, chilling heat all across your body.

Jason removes his dick, moving to support your weight with Roy as they savor every wrecked moan that crackles from your abused throat.

They only allow you to recover for so long before Jason smacks his veiny cock against the side of your mouth for you to open again. “Just like that,” he rumbles your name out lowly. “Good girl.” He nods at Roy who follows his lead and smacks your ass, reveling in how your abused cheeks jiggle salaciously in response.

Jason drags his cock in and out of your swollen, spit-covered lips a few more times before he maneuvers himself into a crouch.

“What are you-" you start, but his gentle fluttering against your clit cuts you off immediately.

His rough hand instantly stifles your wrecked moan. “I know you can come again,” Jason says, drawing another pathetic weep from you. “That’s right, you’re gonna show Roy what a slut you are, aren’t you?” Your thighs unwittingly snap shut around Jason’s skillful fingers, only to instantly be forced back open with a dark smirk. “There we go.”

His dark green eyes capture yours as he slurps at his slick-covered fingers before shoving them down your throat.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He chuckles darkly, looking between his two-fucked out partners with a sadistic glee only Jason could harbor. He shoves his calloused fingers further down your throat, earning a low moan that vibrates straight down to his cock. You wriggle impatiently and he gets the message. Jason’s free hand snakes teasingly down your panting torso to tickle your pulsating clit while his other hand fucks into your obedient throat.

With his expert fingers, it’s no surprise that you come again.

Your wobbly knees nearly give out to crumble down onto Roy’s dirty, discarded uniform on the floor below you. Luckily, he catches you before you can come back into contact with the disgusting swamp muck.

Roy forces his dick back inside your overly-sensitive cunt without missing a beat.

“Roy!” you exclaim as the overwhelming yet welcomed stretch starts up again. Your thighs have yet to stop shaking, but if anything, it only makes Roy fuck into you with reckless, primal abandon.

His freckled hips snap in and out of your doubled-over body at a toe-curling pace while Jay pumps his cock at the desperate display.

Roy doesn’t last much longer after your second orgasm.

The lewd sound of his dick squelching in and out of your slick-filled pussy, coupled with the clenching of your fluttering heat does him in.

What Roy doesn’t expect is for Jason to watch him come so carnally.

“You good?” Jason’s voice rumbles lowly like a predator closing in on his prey. It draws another spurt of come from his sore dick with a pained groan.

“Fuck, Jay,” he pants as he looks between you and his friend.

Roy tiredly crumbles to the dirty uniforms below with you still in his arms. You willingly follow, too exhausted to remain standing.

“Don’t think I’d mind seeing the two of you like this again,” Jason says. He stands from his crouch, staring down at the two of you with a domineering demeanor. “Shit. Yes,” he groans when you and Roy move toward his thick cock in transfixed unison. “So fucking good.”

You and Roy share Jason nicely, taking turns licking lewdly up and down his veiny length. It takes a moment to find a rhythm, but once you do, you’re eagerly sucking and exchanging heavy-lidded glances with the redhead beside you.

Roy takes over, flicking and moving his tongue obscenely for your pleasure. When he pulls off, he spits onto Jason’s dick, causing it to bob up and down in arousal. You waste no time in slurping it up, using it as lube to work Jason’s cock deeper down your throat. This, however, only lasts so long before Roy’s grabbing the back of your head to pull you in for a messy, toe-curling kiss.

He stares down at Roy’s noisy slurps, then at your teasing flicks with barely concealed dark want hiding behind his slitted emerald eyes.

He’s rough with both of you, taking a fistful of each of your hair to intermittently draw each of you down onto his cock, one after the other. If no one had heard you getting the best orgasms of your life earlier, they were now definitely hearing Jason’s gasps and curses clear as day.

You feel Roy’s eyes on you the entire time. Normally you’d be anxious with his undivided attention, but right now, it only spurs you to suck in Jason’s length deeper. You moan around his cock, feeling tears trickle out onto your cheeks as you finally manage to reach his hairy base.

Roy’s hands flit across your body, finally landing on your tits as he leaves open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive neck. You instinctively lean into the touch, eyes rolling to the back of your head, when Jason slowly begins to rock in and out of your throat.

They’re both unable to tear their eyes away from the show you’re putting on, but it does stop Roy’s breathy question, “You like having both of us sucking your dick, Jay?”

“Shut up, Harper,” Jason groans as he halfheartedly glares down at the redhead.

All at once, your deep-throating ceases as Jason replaces your mouth with Roy’s.

You watch as Roy gets a far more aggressive treatment as if they’ve done this before. Jason’s brows furrow together as his long fingers regain their grip on Roy’s fiery tresses before snapping far down into his throat at a brutal pace.

You gasp at the sight and are even more surprised they both falter to look at you.

“I-" What do you even say? ‘This is the hottest shit I’ve ever seen and I want both of you in me at the same time’?

“Well,” Roy smirks wolfishly after he pulls off of Jason’s red-tipped cock with a lewd ‘pop,' “I’m down.” Jason’s biting down painfully on his lower lip, cock gripped strongly in his fist as he wills himself not to come from your words alone. Seeing this, Roy, of course, doesn’t let him off the hook so easily. “Would you want that, Jay? You want to feel that wet, tight cunt again while your dick rubs against mine?”

You’ve never seen someone come so fast.

Jason’s lips part slightly as he pumps his hot come all across your and Roy’s fucked-out, sweat-glistened bodies. His moan is breathy, slightly broken as the last of his orgasm spurts out across the two of your expectant tongues.

“Fuck,” Jason curses. He stares down at both of your slumped, sticky bodies like he’s trying to figure out if this is actually real.

By the time you’re all done making up for all the lost time, your fingers have pruned and your legs are too wobbly to hold your body. Needless to say, the quick trek back to the cockpit is the worst walk of shame any of you have ever experienced.

A/N: this was a total self indulgent fic- i hope you enjoyed and lmk if you did! I've been in a huge creative rut recently :\

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#reader x roy harper #reader x jason todd x roy harper #jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #my fic: redheaded conundrum

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