#He grounds the story and he's very kind and I enjoy him

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

The Fallout | Sebastian Sallow x OC #21

this entire chapter is angst and hurt with pretty much no comfort bc sebastian sallow is an idiot.

Summary: Sebastian, wracked with guilt after betraying Evangeline’s trust, seeks her out to apologize, navigating through Ominis’s pointed rebuke and his own self-loathing. He finds Evangeline by the Black Lake, and though their conversation is raw and painful, they begin to bridge the gap between them, with Sebastian vowing to change (again).

Words: 7,782

Tags: Angst, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Unspoken Feelings, Angst AGAIN, Emotional Fallout, Happy(?) Ending, Miscommunication, Drama, Sebastian Sallow Is An Idiot, Ominis Gaunt Being VERY Done™

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The Great Hall was alive with the low hum of chatter, punctuated by bursts of laughter from distant tables. To most, it was the familiar chaos of breakfast before enjoying the weekend. To Ominis, it was a minefield.

His wand rested lightly against the table, his fingers tapping a steady rhythm on its polished surface. His sharp ears picked up the undercurrent of conversation, threads of gossip weaving their way through the hall. He didn’t need sight to know who the subject was—Evangeline, whose name was on far too many tongues this week, and Sebastian, the ever-present chaos at the heart of Ominis’s life.

“…stood up for him like he’s some kind of hero,” someone hissed from the Ravenclaw table behind him, their voice dripping with scorn. “And then he’s caught snogging some fifth-year? Couldn’t even wait for her to wake up. Poor thing.”

Another voice chimed in, softer but no less cutting. “I heard she passed out by the fire and a moment later, he was off with the next Gryffindor. Honestly, it’s embarrassing.”

Ominis gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening. He carefully kept his expression neutral, though his fingers curled into a fist under the table. These weren’t just idle comments; they were knives, sharp and intentional, aimed at two of the people he cared about most.

Evangeline had always been bold, unflinching in her loyalty to those she called friends, and Ominis hadn’t been surprised when she confronted Lysander to defend Sebastian's honor—Evangeline’s fierce devotion was as much a part of her as her Quidditch skills or her sharp tongue. What had surprised him was how quickly Sebastian had thrown it all away.

Around him, the murmurs shifted, growing louder, like a fire spreading unchecked.

“Did you see how close she was sitting to him before it all went down? Makes you wonder how long he was waiting for her to pass out so he could leave,” someone at the Hufflepuff table said, their voice tinged with curiosity.

Ominis clenched his wand tighter, the cool wood grounding him as his anger simmered. He couldn’t tell what enraged him more—the audacity of the rumors or the fact that Sebastian’s actions made them so easy to believe.

"You'll break your wand if you're not careful," Imelda’s voice was surprisingly warm and low enough not to draw attention. She plopped herself down beside him with the casual confidence only she could pull off.

Ominis loosened his grip and let out a long, steadying breath. “I should hex everyone to make these rumors stop.”

Imelda snorted. “You and I both know the only thing that would stop these rumors is a new scandal. Give it a week—someone else will do something idiotic, and Sterling and Sallow will be yesterday’s gossip.”

Ominis doubted that. The combination of Evangeline’s bold declaration of loyalty in front of the whole school and Sebastian’s reckless behavior had painted an irresistible target on both their backs. The spectacle was too good, the drama too ripe, for people to let it go easily.

Imelda leaned in slightly, her voice dropping. “For what it’s worth, the rest of us are doing our best to stop the spread of this garbage. Poppy practically hexed a Hufflepuff who was being too loud about it yesterday, and Natty shut down a pack of Ravenclaws in Charms.” She shrugged. “We’ve got her back.”

It was true. Their group—Natty, Poppy, Garreth, and the others—had done their best to redirect conversations and shut down the crueler remarks when they came up. But there were limits to what even a tightly-knit group of sixth years could do. Hogwarts wasn’t exactly known for its restraint when it came to gossip.

Ominis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just—” He cut himself off, unsure how to finish the thought.

Imelda didn’t wait for him to try. “You’re worried about them,” she said simply, as if the thought wasn’t worth debating. “Look, Sterling’s tough. And Sebastian… well, he’s an idiot, but he’s not helpless.”

“An idiot is putting it lightly,” Ominis muttered. “This has hurt both of them. Evangeline’s been humiliated, and Sebastian—” He paused, shaking his head. “He knows he’s responsible, even if he hasn't admitted it.”

“It’s just…” Imelda hesitated, which caught Ominis off guard. She rarely hesitated. “I hate seeing her like this. She’s always been so… sure of herself, you know? I don’t like watching people like her get knocked down because of someone else’s stupidity.”

Imelda’s words hung in the air, heavier than Ominis expected. She rarely let her concern for others show, but when she did, it carried a weight that was impossible to ignore. He let the silence stretch between them for a moment, his mind turning over her observations.

"She’s been avoiding everyone," Ominis finally said, his voice quiet. "Burying herself in books. She’s retreating."

Imelda sighed, her usual bravado replaced by a rare softness. "And what about Sallow? Is he retreating too, or just digging himself into a deeper hole?"

Ominis let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, he’s digging, all right. Acting like none of this bothers him, flashing that irritating smirk at everyone who dares bring it up to his face. Still choosing to be seen with the same girl he snogged that night. But I know him too well to believe it. It’s a mask." His tone darkened. "The worst part is that he hasn’t even apologized to her. Not properly."

Imelda shook her head, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like bloody idiot.

"He’s lucky Sterling hasn’t hexed him," she said. "If it were me, I’d have turned him into a flobberworm by now."

Ominis couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sure she's thought about it. But Evangeline isn’t like you, Imelda. She doesn’t lash out when she’s hurt—she pulls away."

"And you’re caught in the middle," Imelda observed, her tone resigned. "As always."

"As always," Ominis echoed, his voice laced with weariness.

Imelda tilted her head, studying Ominis’s face with an expression he couldn’t see but could feel. “So, what’s the plan then, Gaunt? You’ve always got one.”

Ominis frowned, his fingers still idly tapping against his wand. His plan? As if he could snap his fingers and undo the damage Sebastian had caused—not just to Evangeline’s reputation, but to the fragile balance of their trio. “I don’t know if there’s a plan for this,” he admitted. “Evangeline needs space, but if we leave her alone too long, it’ll only get worse. And Sebastian…” He trailed off, the weight of Sebastian’s stubbornness settling like a stone in his chest. “Sebastian needs a proper kick to the head.”

Imelda laughed, though it was short and dry. “If you’re volunteering, I’ll hold your wand while you do it.”

"Too bad his skull's too thick for it to work,” Ominis replied, lips twitching into a faint smirk before fading again. "He knows he’s ruined things; he just doesn’t know how to fix them.”

Imelda leaned back, crossing her arms. “So, no plan?”

“Not yet,” Ominis admitted, though his mind was turning. He wasn’t sure what the right course of action was, but he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving things as they were.

“I’ll think of something." He said at length, "Someone has to.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Imelda said, standing and grabbing her plate. “And when you do get around to kicking some sense into him, make sure Sterling’s around to watch. She deserves the entertainment.”

Ominis leaned back in his seat as Imelda departed, his mind whirring. Someone had to step in. Sebastian was clearly incapable of making the first move, and Evangeline… she was too hurt to reach out herself. And if nothing changed soon, the damage might become permanent.

He pushed his plate away, no longer hungry, and rose to his feet. Raising his wand to guide him, he made his way out of the Great Hall, the chatter behind him fading into a dull roar.

~

The library was quieter than the Great Hall, but it carried its own brand of tension. The soft rustling of pages and the occasional scrape of a chair created an uneasy symphony, one that suited Ominis’s mood. He navigated the familiar aisles, his wand guiding him toward the far corner where he hoped Evangeline would be hiding.

She’d been skipping meals and even classes all week, avoiding crowds and slinking away before anyone could corner her. Ominis had been patient, waiting for her to resurface on her own, but her absence was stretching into worry. The Evangeline he knew—bold enough to face down trolls and outfly Imelda in Quidditch—didn’t hide. It wasn’t like her to disappear—not like this.

Ominis stopped when he reached the corner table and tilted his head, listening for the familiar scratch of a quill or the rustle of parchment. Relief swept through him when he caught the faint, rhythmic sound of writing.

“Still avoiding everyone?” he asked as he approached, his tone carefully casual.

Evangeline paused mid-stroke but didn’t look up. “I’m studying,” she replied, her voice clipped. The quill resumed its steady movements, but there was tension in her tone, a defensive edge that Ominis didn’t miss.

“Studying, hiding,” he said, pulling out the chair across from her and settling into it. “They’re not mutually exclusive.”

She let out a sigh, setting her quill down and leaning back in her chair. “What do you want, Ominis?”

He rested his wand lightly on the table, folding his hands in front of him. “To make sure you’re alive. I've been worried.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine,” she said, gesturing vaguely to the books stacked around her. “Now, if you don’t mind—”

“Evangeline,” he interrupted gently, his tone firm but calm. “You can’t keep doing this. Hiding won’t make the rumors go away.”

Her hazel eyes snapped up to meet his, sharp and tired. “What else am I supposed to do, Ominis? Walk into the Great Hall and pretend I don’t hear them? Pretend they’re not calling me an idiot?” Her voice cracked slightly on the last word, and she looked away, her fingers curling into fists on the table.

“They’re cruel, Evangeline,” Ominis said softly. “But they don’t define you.”

“They don’t have to,” she replied bitterly. “I’ve already defined myself—for the whole school. The foolish Gryffindor who stood by her so-called friend who turned Quidditch into boxing, only to find out he doesn’t care. At all.”

“That’s not true,” Ominis said, leaning forward. “Sebastian cares. He cares so much that he’s too afraid to face you and apologize."

She let out a hollow laugh, her expression hardening. “If that’s your attempt at defending him, don’t bother. Actions speak louder than words, Ominis, and his actions have been loud and clear.”

Ominis sighed, rubbing his temple. “I’m not defending what he did. And believe me, he knows he’s made a mess of things. But he’s too much of an idiot to figure out how to fix it.”

“Then that’s his problem,” she said sharply, standing up and gathering her books. “Not mine.”

“Evangeline—”

She paused, her shoulders tense but not turning back to him. “I appreciate you checking on me, Ominis. Really, I do. But I can’t… I can’t do this right now.”

He didn’t stop her as she walked away, her footsteps quick and purposeful. Instead, he sat back in his chair, his fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against the wood.

Ominis pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to push the building tension out of his skull. He’d thought that after last year, they could weather anything. But now he wasn’t so sure.

This wasn’t about dark magic or ancient artifacts. It wasn’t about the kind of betrayal you could blame on desperation or fear. This was about trust. And Sebastian had shattered it, not with curses or lies, but with something so mundane it almost felt worse.

Last year, Ominis found himself thinking, when Sebastian did the unthinkable, Evangeline had stood by him.

Ominis could recall the horror of that night with a clarity that made his stomach churn. The dark chamber, the oppressive weight if the the air, and the sickening, searing sounds of the Cruciatus Curse as it tore through her. She hadn’t hesitated to let Sebastian cast that unforgivable curse on her, because she’d believed in him. She’d trusted him enough to endure that kind of agony, certain that he wouldn’t lead her astray.

And later, when Sebastian’s own desperation and grief had driven him to kill Solomon in front of her, she still hadn’t left his side. She’d looked at Sebastian and seen a boy crushed under the weight of his own choices, not a monster, not a murderer. She’d forgiven him.

And now?

Now, after all of that, this—the fallout of one drunken party and Sebastian’s idiocy—felt like an impossible hurdle. And Ominis hated it. Hated the absurdity of it. Hated that something so comparatively trivial could cause this much damage between them.

But then, should he be surprised?

For the past two years, Evie had been the one who stood in Sebastian’s corner no matter what. She’d fought his battles, taken his side, even when Ominis had turned away in anger or disgust. How many more times could she be expected to put herself in the line of fire for him? How many more times could she pick up the pieces of his mess, only to have him treat her loyalty as something he was entitled to, rather than a gift?

Ominis knew Sebastian was a master at self-destruction, but this was different. This wasn’t just about Sebastian’s inability to apologize—it was about Evangeline’s breaking point. And Sebastian had betrayed her. Not in some dramatic, high-stakes moment like the ones they’d faced last year, but in a way that was somehow more personal. More intimate. He hadn’t protected her—not from the rumors, not from humiliation, and certainly not from himself.

Ominis sighed, pushing himself to his feet.

He couldn't allow this to tear their friendship apart. He couldn't let the two people he cared for most drift further away, not when he knew how much they meant to each other—even if they were too stubborn to admit it right now. Evangeline and Sebastian were tangled together in ways they probably didn’t even understand themselves, and Ominis had spent enough time caught in their orbit to know he had to intervene.

Ominis took a steadying breath, his resolve hardening. If there was one thing he was good at, it was cutting through Sebastian’s excuses. He wasn’t sure what he’d say yet, but he knew it wouldn’t be gentle. Sebastian had burned through every ounce of patience Ominis had left. If cruel honesty was what it took to finally get through to him, then so be it.

~

The Undercroft was quiet when Ominis arrived, the stone walls damp with the faint chill that always lingered in the hidden room. His footsteps echoed softly as he stepped inside, his wand guiding him toward the center where he knew Sebastian would be. Because when things got overwhelming—and they always did with Sebastian—he retreated to the Undercroft. It was his sanctuary.

But not today. Today, it would be his reckoning.

Sure enough, Sebastian was there, pacing in agitated circles. Ominis could hear the scuff of his boots against the floor, could feel the restless energy radiating off of him even without seeing it. He stopped mid-step when the wall closed behind Ominis, and for a moment, the silence stretched between them.

“You’re late,” Sebastian said eventually, his voice carrying a familiar edge of bravado. But it was thinner than usual, and Ominis could tell he was barely holding it together.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time, haven’t you?” Ominis replied, his voice calm but laced with steel.

Sebastian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “If you’re just going to yell at me, save it. I’ve heard enough of it from Imelda, from Poppy—hell, even Garreth had a go at me.”

Ominis took a step forward, “And did any of them get through to you?”

Sebastian didn’t answer right away, his silence telling. Finally, he muttered, “I already know I messed up, Ominis.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Ominis snapped, his frustration breaking through. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Any idea how much you’ve hurt her?”

Sebastian flinched, but Ominis pressed on, his tone sharp. “Evangeline has stood by you through everything—through curses, through murder, protecting you from Azkaban. She’s defended you, fought for you when you didn’t deserve it. And now, because of one drunken night and your inability to think past your own damn nose, you’ve humiliated her in front of the entire school.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Sebastian said quietly, his voice strained.

Ominis barked out a bitter laugh. “Of course you didn’t. You never mean to. But that doesn’t change what happened. While she was passed out, Sebastian—passed out—you went and snogged some fifth-year by the fire. Do you even realize how that looks? How that makes her feel?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” Sebastian exploded, his voice rising. “I—Merlin, Ominis, I didn’t plan for any of this to happen! It just… it just did.”

Ominis took another step forward, his voice cutting like steel. “And instead of fixing it, you’ve spent the last week pretending it doesn’t bother you. Flashing that stupid grin, parading around with the same girl you snogged that night—”

“I’m not parading—”

“Don’t,” Ominis snapped, his tone icy. “Don’t even try to justify it. You’ve made a mess of things, Sebastian. A mess that Evangeline is paying for. And what have you done to fix it? Hm?”

Sebastian exhaled a shuddering breath, his pacing resuming as though the movement could somehow release the weight of Ominis’s words. The silence between them grew heavy again, stretching like a taut wire that threatened to snap.

“Why?” Ominis finally asked, his voice low but unyielding. “Why did you do it, Sebastian?”

Sebastian froze mid-step, his back to Ominis. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as if the answer could be wrung out of his skull. “I don’t know,” he muttered.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Sebastian turned sharply, his frustration bubbling over. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Ominis! I was drunk! She was drunk! It just—” He stopped, his fists clenching at his sides. “It just happened.”

Ominis shook his head, unimpressed. "I’ve known you long enough to know that everything you do has a reason—even if it’s a selfish one. So tell me why. Why did you do it?"

Sebastian’s jaw worked as he looked away, his gaze fixed on some point on the floor. Ominis could hear the rapid, uneven rhythm of his breathing, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his frame.

“What were you thinking?!” Ominis pressed, his tone sharp.

Sebastian barked out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You really want to know, Ominis? Fine. I was thinking about myself,” he said, "About what I wanted, about—” He hesitated, his voice faltering. “About what I couldn’t have.”

Ominis clenched his jaw, his knuckles whitening around his wand. He knew where this was going, but hearing Sebastian lay it out piece by piece was like watching a slow-motion train wreck.

Sebastian let out a bitter sigh, slumping against one of the stone pillars. “She was… Merlin, Evie was so drunk. But she was happy to see me. She smiled at me like, like maybe she—” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening before he forced the words out. “Like maybe she might feel the same way. Like maybe we could actually have a chance.”

“But then she passed out. And I—I should have stayed with her. I know that." He laughed again , the sound hollow and self-loathing. "But all I could think about was what it felt like when she looked at me, when she leaned into me like she didn’t want to let go. And how much I wanted her. How much I couldn’t have her. Because she'll never love me back, Ominis. And I don't deserve her anyway.”

He pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead, his words tumbling out in a rush now. “And then I saw someone else, and for one stupid, selfish second, it was easier. Easier to let myself pretend my feelings for Evie didn’t matter, to forget how much I wanted someone I couldn't have and never will. So, yes. I kissed her. I didn’t think about what it looked like, or what it meant, or how much worse it would make everything. I just… did it.” His voice cracked and he turned away, his shoulders trembling with the weight of his confession.

“And now you've ruined everything,” Ominis muttered, his voice low but razor-sharp.

Sebastian flinched, his head dropping. “I know, Ominis. You don’t have to keep saying it.”

“Oh, I do,” Ominis shot back, stepping closer, his tone gaining an edge. “Because apparently, it takes the whole damn school yelling at you before anything gets through that thick skull of yours."

Sebastian turned back to him, his expression anguished. “Do you really think you need to say all this? That I don’t already hate myself?”

“Hate yourself all you like," Ominis said coldly. "But hating yourself doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t undo what you did, and it sure as hell doesn’t make up for the fact that you left her lying there while you went off to satisfy your ego.”

Sebastian swallowed hard, his head falling against the pillar again with a dull thud. “How could I leave her there, Ominis? I didn’t even think about what might happen to her. What if she’d gotten sick? What if someone else found her before Natty? What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Do you want me to list it all out for you, Sebastian?” Ominis’s voice was sharp and unrelenting, each word like a lash. “Do you want me to spell out exactly what’s wrong with you? Because I will. I’ll tell you that you’re selfish. That you’re reckless. That you’ve let your feelings for Evangeline warp you into someone so consumed by his own desires that you don't even think about the destruction your decisions leave in their wake.”

Sebastian flinched, but Ominis didn’t stop. He stepped closer, his voice deadly calm. “I’ll tell you that you’ve taken the strongest person I know—the one who never wavered, who stood by you when no one else would—and you’ve turned her into someone who hides. You’ve made her doubt herself. Doubt her worth. And why? Because of your selfishness. Because of your inability to think beyond your own wants.”

Sebastian’s shoulders sagged, his mouth opening as if to respond, but no words came. Ominis’s voice grew colder, his tone cutting like ice.

“You humiliated her, Sebastian. In ways no one else ever could. Not the Slytherins who taunt her about her heritage. Not the gossiping fools who envy her. You. Because she trusted you. She trusted you more than anyone else in this world, and you threw that trust away—for what? A fleeting, meaningless moment of distraction?”

Sebastian’s fists clenched, his knuckles white. “I didn’t—” he started, his voice hoarse.

“Didn’t what?” Ominis interrupted, stepping closer until he was looming over Sebastian, “Didn’t think? Didn’t mean it? Those excuses won’t fix what you’ve done. You can’t undo this with hollow words or promises you’ll never keep.”

Sebastian’s breath hitched, his head hanging low as Ominis continued, his tone softening slightly but still firm. “You're broken. You’ve been breaking ever since Anne left, ever since Solomon died, ever since you let yourself believe you don’t deserve better. And maybe you’re right. Maybe you don’t. You sure as hell don't deserve Evangeline. But she deserves better than the coward you’re being right now.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with the weight of Ominis’s words. For once, Sebastian had no quick retort, no deflections or bravado to hide behind. He stood there, raw and exposed, the reality of his actions settling over him like a suffocating fog.

Ominis stepped back, his expression unreadable. “If you want to fix this, then stop wallowing and do something about it. Not for you—for her. She’s not going to wait for you forever, Sebastian."

Sebastian looked up at him then, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I don’t know how,” he whispered. “I don’t know where to start, Ominis.”

Ominis stared at Sebastian for a long moment. His sharp features softened only slightly, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface.

“You start,” Ominis said, his voice low and deliberate, “By telling her the truth. And then you listen, Sebastian. You listen to what she has to say, and you take it. Whatever she throws at you, you take it, because you deserve it.”

Sebastian flinched at the finality in Ominis’s tone, the weight of his words sinking deeper into the pit of his stomach. His eyes fell to the floor, his shoulders sagging under the crushing realization of just how badly he’d screwed up. “What if she doesn't forgive me?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“I think,” Ominis said, his voice softer now but no less firm, “that Evangeline Sterling has already given you more chances than anyone else ever would. And if you don’t stop wasting them, then yes, Sebastian. She’ll stop listening. She’ll stop caring. And she'll stop forgiving. But you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Sebastian nodded slowly, the motion heavy with resignation. “I’ll... I'll talk to her,” he said finally, his voice hollow.

Ominis didn’t respond right away. He studied Sebastian for a moment longer, as though weighing his words. Then he gave a short, curt nod. “Good. And Sebastian?”

Sebastian looked up at him, his expression hollow and weary. “Yeah?”

“If she forgives you, don’t make her regret giving you another chance.” Ominis’s voice was like iron, unyielding. “Because if you hurt her again, I won’t forgive you either.”

Sebastian’s throat tightened, the weight of Ominis’s warning settling over him like a second layer of guilt. He didn’t reply, and Ominis didn’t wait for him to. With a swish of his wand, the Undercroft’s entrance opened, and Ominis stepped through without another word, leaving Sebastian alone with his thoughts.

~

Sebastian woke to the damp chill of the Undercroft, the rough stone beneath him pressing uncomfortably into his back. His neck ached from the awkward angle at which he’d slumped against one of the pillars, and his robes were crumpled, wrinkled from what could hardly be called sleep. For a moment, he stared up at the ceiling, his mind foggy and disoriented, the weight in his chest a stubborn, familiar ache.

How had he ended up here?

It hit him all at once: Ominis. His words. The cold fury in his voice, the brutal precision of every accusation. The memory surged back like a slap, leaving no room for denial, no way to escape the truth Ominis had hammered into him.

You humiliated her, Sebastian. In ways no one else ever could. Because she trusted you.

Sebastian groaned, dragging a hand over his face. The coarse fabric of his sleeve scratched against his skin, grounding him against the dull throb of his guilt. He knew he deserved it. Deserved worse, even. But that didn’t make it any easier to breathe.

Sebastian sat up slowly, his body stiff and sluggish. The cool air of the Undercroft wrapped around him, biting through his crumpled robes, but he barely felt it. All he could feel was the memory of Evangeline’s absence—her quiet absence in the hallways, the way her laughter had disappeared from their group, leaving behind a hollow silence he couldn’t fill.

You threw that trust away.

Sebastian pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, as if he could physically push the memories back, stop them from replaying over and over. But they wouldn’t stop, because Ominis had been right. His words weren’t just true—they were inescapable.

Because she trusted you.

The thought alone was enough to drive him to his feet, his legs trembling slightly from the hours he’d spent curled on the ground. He staggered upright, leaning briefly against the pillar for support as his knees protested. His movements were stiff, his body as uncooperative, but he couldn’t stay here.

He had to find her. He had to try to fix this.

The Great Hall buzzed with its usual morning energy as Sebastian stepped inside, scanning the Gryffindor table for any sign of her. His stomach clenched when he saw that her usual spot—wedged between Natty and Cressida—was empty. His heart sank further when he caught sight of the guarded expressions on their faces as he approached.

“Where’s Evangeline?” he asked, his voice rough from sleep and the lingering tension in his chest.

Natty exchanged a glance with Cressida before answering. “We don’t know,” she said carefully.

Sebastian frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Cressida said softly, “that she hasn’t been around much. We didn't see her this morning in the common room, nor in our dorm. She’s barely there. She wakes up before us, goes to bed late, and hardly says a word.”

Her words landed like a blow to his gut. “She hasn’t said where she’s been?”

Natty shook her head, her expression turning to one of quiet reproach. “Sebastian, she’s avoiding people for a reason.”

He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. He wanted to press them for more, but the look in Natty’s eyes was enough to stop him. She knew what had happened—of course she did, she's the one who found Evie laying there alone—and there was no hiding from the judgment in her eyes.

“Thanks,” he muttered before turning on his heel and stalking out of the hall.

The hours that followed were a frustrating blur of dead ends as Sebastian scoured every corner of the castle he could think of.

He wandered through the library first, weaving between the shelves and peering into the tucked-away corners where she liked to study. His footsteps echoed in the quiet space, but no matter how far he searched, there was no sign of her. Madam Scribner glared at him over her spectacles when his whispered inquiries became too loud, and he left before her irritation could boil over into words.

The Quidditch pitch was his next stop, but it, too, was empty, save for a pair of second-years casually tossing a Quaffle back and forth. He lingered at the edge of the stands for a moment, staring out at the expanse of grass, before turning away with a muttered curse.

By the time night fell, his legs ached from climbing stairs and traversing hallways, but his determination remained unwavering. He retreated to the Undercroft once more, hoping that she might show up, seeking the solace the hidden room often provided. But as the minutes stretched into hours, he was met with nothing but the cold, empty silence of the space.

It was in the early hours of morning that Sebastian finally slipped through the entrance to the Slytherin common room. The dim, green-tinted room was nearly empty, save for a pair of fifth-years whispering near the hearth, but Sebastian barely spared them a glance as he made his way toward his dormitory.

He felt hollow, his chest tight with frustration and guilt. Hours of searching had turned up nothing, and the idea of going to bed without finding her filled him with a restless dread.

Pushing open the door to his dormitory, he stepped inside, his gaze immediately snapping to the companion candle on his bedside table. The soft glow of its flame greeted him, flickering steadily. His pulse quickened.

Evangeline was awake somewhere.

Sebastian stepped back into the corridor and closed the door behind him, leaning heavily against it as relief warred with frustration. She was awake. But where?

He racked his brain, thought back to every conversation, every memory they’d shared, searching for something—anything—that might give him a clue of where she might be hiding.

And then, it hit him.

The memory she’d shared with him for his birthday. It had been a beautiful day by the Black Lake in their fifth year, the two of them sitting side by side, staring out at the water as the sky reflected on its surface.

Sebastian pushed off the door, his heart pounding. Maybe she was there. It was a long shot, but it was all he had.

The castle was silent as he slipped through its shadowed corridors. Sneaking out past curfew was second nature to him by now, but tonight, his usual thrill of rebellion was absent. All he could focus on was finding her.

The cool night air hit him as he stepped onto the grounds, the vast expanse of the Black Lake stretching out before him. The moonlight danced across its surface, casting rippling reflections that seemed to shift with the breeze. The chill bit at his exposed skin, but he ignored it, his eyes scanning the shoreline.

And then he saw her.

She was perched on a low, weathered rock near the edge of the lake, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her long hair spilled over her shoulders, catching the moonlight.

For a moment, he stopped, his breath catching in his throat. The sight of her after what felt like an eternity apart stilled him, rooting him to the spot. She looked so small, so fragile, her usual fire dimmed into quiet embers.

Sebastian swallowed hard, forcing his legs to move. The crunch of his boots against the gravel shore broke the silence, and he saw her stiffen slightly at the sound. She didn’t turn to look at him, but he knew she knew he was there.

“Evie,” he said softly, his voice barely carrying over the lapping of the lake’s gentle waves.

She didn’t respond. Her gaze remained fixed on the water, her arms tightening around her knees.

Sebastian hesitated, unsure whether to move closer. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, and one wrong step would send them both tumbling into an abyss they couldn’t climb out of.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, his voice trembling with the weight of everything he’d been carrying.

“Why?” she asked, her tone flat and distant. The single word cut through him like a blade.

He took a step closer, the cool air biting at his skin. “Because I need to talk to you."

She let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and devoid of warmth. "What for? To give me some excuse for why you left me there? Why you chose her over me?" Her voice cracked, and she quickly turned away, her hands gripping the fabric of her cardigan - the very same one he'd picked out for her weeks ago in Hogsmeade. And now, seeing her clutch it like armor against him, the memory felt like a knife twisting in his chest.

“I—” His voice faltered. He had spent hours in his mind rehearsing what he might say if he found her, but now, faced with the raw pain in her voice and the sight of her curling further into herself, every word felt inadequate.

“You what, Sebastian?” she snapped, finally turning to look at him. Her eyes, glinting in the moonlight, weren’t filled with the fire he was used to. They were dulled, tired, and red-rimmed from tears. “You didn’t mean for it to happen? You didn’t think it would matter? You didn’t—what? Care?”

“That’s not true,” he said quickly, the desperation in his tone undeniable. “I care, Evie. I care more than I can—” He stopped, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I just… I didn’t think. I was stupid, and I didn’t think.”

“Didn’t think.” She repeated the words slowly, bitterly, her voice dripping with disbelief. “That’s always your excuse, isn’t it?”

Sebastian flinched, the accusation hitting harder than he’d expected.

“You didn’t think about how I would feel,” she continued, her voice steady but trembling with barely restrained emotion. “You didn’t think about what it would be like for me to hear what you did—to watch you strut around the school with her on your arm and know that everyone was laughing at my expense. You didn’t think about how it would feel to trust you, to stand by you, and have you turn around and… and—”

She broke off, her voice cracking as her gaze dropped back to the water. Her arms tightened around her knees again, her fingers digging into the fabric of the cardigan.

Sebastian took another step closer, his hands clenched at his sides as though he was physically holding himself back from reaching for her. “Evangeline,” he murmured, her full name slipping out instinctively.

"Don't call me that." Her voice cracked, sharp and brittle, as if the words themselves were a shield she had hastily raised.

Sebastian froze.

She had never stopped him from calling her Evangeline—never. It wasn’t just her name; it was his, in a way... something he naturally wielded with purpose. He used it sparingly, reserved for moments that carried weight: when he wanted to tease her into a smile, make her pause and really hear him, or when he needed to say something only she could understand. It was his way of reaching past her walls, of breaking through barriers when she threw them up. Now, hearing her reject it felt like a door slamming shut, leaving him stranded on the other side.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, the words rough and uneven.

She shook her head, her gaze still fixed on the water. “Don’t say things you don’t mean,” she murmured. “You’re good at that, you know—saying what people want to hear."

Sebastian stepped closer, “I do mean it,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I’m sorry, Evang—Evie. For everything. For hurting you. For making you feel like I didn’t care. I... I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to. I need to.”

She let out a hollow laugh, her shoulders rising and falling with the motion. “Fix it? You can’t undo what you did. You can’t un-snog her. You can’t erase what everyone’s saying.”

“I know,” he said, his voice almost breaking. “I know I can’t. But that doesn’t mean I won’t try to make it right."

Her head turned slightly at that, her eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment before darting away. “For me, or for you?” she asked softly. “You sure you're not just here to soothe your guilt? To make yourself feel better?”

“No!” he said urgently, stepping closer again. “This isn’t about me, Evie, it’s about you—because you’re…” His voice faltered, and he blinked hard, feeling the sting of tears building behind his eyes. “You’re everything to me, Evie. You always have been.”

Her breath hitched at his words, her posture stiffening as if she were bracing herself against them. “Stop,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Stop saying things you don’t mean.”

Sebastian’s throat tightened, and a tear slipped down his cheek, warm and bitter against his skin. He wiped it away hastily, as if embarrassed, but his hands trembled at his sides. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life,” he said, his voice raw. He took another step, closing the space between them, and knelt in front of her. His chest heaved with the effort to keep himself steady, to show her the truth in every fractured word.

Her hazel eyes lingered on the water for another beat, and then she exhaled, her shoulders sinking under the weight of everything she’d been holding back. It wasn’t a collapse, but a quiet unraveling, as though all her defenses were fraying at the edges.

The first tear slid down her cheek, and she didn’t bother to wipe it away. It was followed by another, and then another, until her breath hitched, a small, broken sound escaping her lips. She pressed her trembling hands to her face, muffling the quiet sobs that started to spill free.

“Evie…” Sebastian’s voice cracked, raw and filled with desperation. His own eyes burned, his own tears slipping free, but he reached out instinctively, his hand hovering uncertainly over her arm. “Please... don’t cry. I—Merlin, I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head without looking at him, her face buried in her hands. “You don’t get it,” she gasped through the tears, her voice raw and choked. “You don’t get how hard it is—how humiliated I’ve felt. I was always the one who stood by you, Sebastian. Always. And this... this is what I get for it.”

“You’re right,” he said hoarsely, his voice breaking again. “You’re right about all of it. I’ve been selfish, reckless... I’ve hurt you in ways I don’t know how to fix. But Evie, please believe me—I never meant to. I never wanted to hurt you.”

His hand trembled as it settled gently on her arm, the gesture tentative, pleading. When her gaze flickered down to it, Sebastian froze, his breath catching in his throat. He braced himself for her to pull away.

For a long moment, she didn’t move, her lips pressing into a thin line. But then, with a sigh so soft it was almost inaudible, she shifted, her body leaning ever so slightly toward him.

He stayed perfectly still, his breath catching as she let her head drop, her temple brushing lightly against his shoulder. He could feel her uneven breaths, the tremble in her frame as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I don’t know what to do with you, Sebastian,” she said after a long silence, her voice barely above a whisper. There was no anger in her tone now, no sharp edges. Just tired, aching honesty. “You always do this. You hurt me, and then you come back, and somehow, I always forgive you.”

He swallowed hard, guilt twisting in his chest like a knife. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said quietly, his voice rough.

She didn’t respond right away, her silence stretching out between them. The soft lapping of the lake’s waves didn't even fill the void that had grown. And when she finally spoke again, her voice was so quiet he almost missed it.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this. I keep thinking… maybe this time will be different. Maybe you’ll change. And then... you don’t.”

Sebastian flinched, “Evie, please,” he said, his voice raw. “I’m trying. I know I’ve failed, but I am trying. I swear I am.”

She let out a quiet, hollow laugh, her breath warm against his shoulder. “I think you believe that,” she said softly. “But it doesn’t feel like it from where I’m standing. From where I’m... sitting.” Her lips quirked faintly, though there was no humor in the gesture.

Sebastian’s chest tightened further, his vision blurred by unshed tears, “I’ll do better,” he said, his voice heavy with desperation. “I swear it, Evie. I know I’ve let you down. Over and over. And I hate myself for it. I hate what I’ve done to you. What I’ve done to us.”

She leaned back to look at him and her gaze softened slightly, though the weariness didn’t leave her eyes. “I don’t want you to hate yourself, Sebastian,” she said quietly. “I just… I just want you to stop hurting me.”

Sebastian felt her words sink into him like lead weights, dragging him down with the raw, simple truth of them. Stop hurting me. It wasn’t a demand or an accusation. It wasn’t even spoken with anger. It was a plea—fragile and trembling, like she didn’t even expect it to be possible.

“I will, Evie,” he murmured, his voice raw and unsteady. “I swear it.”

Her lips twitched faintly, though the ghost of a smile never quite formed. “You say that,” she said softly, leaning back against him. “And maybe you mean it. It's just... I don’t think I can take it again if you’re wrong.”

He didn’t respond right away. He didn’t trust himself to. Instead, he let the silence settle between them again, his hand still resting lightly on her arm. He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, the quiet stretching out into a fragile bubble. But eventually, he spoke again, his voice low and steady.

“I’m not wrong this time,” he said, the words more a vow than a promise. “I can’t be. Because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

Evangeline's breath hitched then, and for a moment, he thought she might pull away. But instead, she simply nodded, a silent acknowledgment of his words. A silent understanding.

Sebastian let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his hand hesitating before shifting to cover hers where it rested against her knee. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t grip—just let his palm rest there, warm and steady, like an unspoken promise.

“You’re still a bloody idiot,” Evie murmured after what felt like an eternity, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

Sebastian let out a faint laugh, the sound rough and cracked but real. “Yeah,” he admitted, his lips twitching into the barest of smiles. “I probably always will be.”

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her hazel eyes searching his face. There was still hurt there, still an ache he couldn’t hope to erase in a single night. But there was something else, too—a flicker of something softer, something that gave him hope.

“Please don’t make me regret this, Sebastian,” she said quietly.

His throat tightened, and he nodded, his eyes locked on hers. “I won’t,” he promised, his voice raw but unwavering. “Not this time.”

For a moment, she held his gaze, her expression unreadable. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible sigh, she leaned back into him, letting her arms snake around his waist, pulling him closer.

The tension that had been coiled so tightly in Sebastian’s shoulders began to ease as he closed his eyes, his chin lightly brushing the top of her head. The scent of her hair enveloped him. It was a comfort he hadn’t realized he was desperate for until now.

“I mean it,” he murmured, his voice soft, “Whatever it takes, Evangeline, I’ll prove it to you. I’ll fix what I’ve broken.”

Her grip on him tightened slightly, and though she didn’t respond, he felt the subtle shift in her breathing. She was letting him in, piece by fragile piece. It wasn’t forgiveness—not yet—but it was something. A beginning.

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

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[zenithangelic]

Overwatch cuddle headcannons plz (characters of your choice bc I couldn't decide :0 )

Overwatch cuddle headcanons:

Ashe, Baptiste, Bastion, Cassidy, Kiriko, Mercy, Moira, Pharah, Ramattra, Reaper, Widowmaker

Ashe

She’s not someone who openly seeks cuddles, but once she’s settled in, Ashe is surprisingly tender. She likes to wrap her arms around your waist while lying in bed, her head resting on your chest

Despite her tough exterior, her affection is genuine. She might tease you with playful remarks while cuddling but would secretly love the closeness

Ashe enjoys quiet moments, and B.O.B. will respectfully give you privacy, standing guard as you share your intimate time

Baptiste

Baptiste radiates warmth, both physically and emotionally. His hugs are enveloping, and he often rubs circles on your back while you cuddle

He likes to make you laugh, even during intimate moments. Expect tickles and soft kisses on your forehead or nose

Baptiste is very mindful of your emotions. If you’re upset, he’ll hold you close and hum softly in his deep, soothing voice until you feel better

Bastion

Cuddling Bastion isn’t conventional, but it’s heartwarming how he tries to mimic human affection. He’ll position themselves so you can lean on him comfortably

Ganymede often joins in, chirping happily while perched on your shoulder as Bastion lets out happy, low-pitched beeps

Bastion has a way of making you feel safe, positioning his sturdy frame like a shield around you when you rest

Cassidy

Cassidy is a relaxed and confident cuddler. He loves lounging on the couch with you in his arms, one hand casually stroking your hair

While cuddling, he might share amusing stories from his time in Deadlock or Overwatch, his drawl soothing you into relaxation

Sometimes, he’ll playfully place his cowboy hat on you mid-cuddle, chuckling at how it large it is on you

Kiriko

Kiriko is the kind of cuddler who’ll wiggle her way into your arms with a sly grin. She loves making you smile before settling down for quiet moments

She often wears cozy hoodies or soft fabrics during cuddles, making it feel extra comforting when she hugs you

If you’re feeling low, she’ll hold you close and tell you stories about kitsune spirits and their wisdom, her voice gentle and soothing

Mercy

Angela’s cuddles are all about making you feel loved and cared for. She’ll pull you into her lap and stroke your hair, humming softly

After a long day, she loves falling asleep beside you, her head on your shoulder as she holds your hand

Mercy cherishes quiet moments before sleep, whispering sweet reassurances and promises for the future

Moira

Moira doesn’t initially seem like a cuddler, but when she does, it’s surprisingly intense. She prefers quiet, dimly lit settings, with you lying against her chest or in her arms

She’ll rarely admit it, but she finds peace in your presence and enjoys the grounding effect of holding you close

She might read or work on research while holding you, occasionally explaining her latest findings to you in a soft, focused tone

Pharah

Pharah’s cuddles are secure and grounding. She’ll wrap you in her strong arms, holding you like you’re the most precious thing in her world

She loves early-morning cuddles, watching the sunrise together while you rest your head against her shoulder

Pharah isn’t overly verbal about her feelings, but the way she holds you speaks volumes. You’ll feel her steady heartbeat against you, a silent reminder that she'll always be there for you

Ramattra

Despite his metallic exterior, Ramattra has an incredibly gentle presence. He carefully adjusts his limbs to make sure you’re comfortable while leaning on him

Cuddling with him often leads to discussions about life, humanity, and purpose. He values your thoughts and cherishes the bond it brings

Ramattra shows his care through actions, like shielding you from discomfort or adjusting the environment to suit your preferences during your time together

Reaper

Gabriel doesn’t openly admit he likes cuddling, but once you’re close, he clings to you like you’re his anchor. His touch is firm but full of unspoken emotion

He prefers cuddling at night when the world feels quieter, his masked voice rumbling softly as he reassures you of your safety

His presence is protective, and though he might not say much, his actions—like wrapping his cloak around you—speak louder than words

Widowmaker

Amélie’s skin is cool to the touch, but her embrace has a softness that contrasts with her aloof demeanour. She cradles you gently, almost as if afraid to break you

She treasures silent moments, preferring to sit in stillness with you in her arms, finding solace in your heartbeat

If your hair is long enough, she will absent-mindedly start to braid it whilst holding you close

♡If you liked this fic, please consider buying me a coffee! Ko-fi ♡

[fountainpenguin]

Sharing some fanfic musings because I had an epiphany.

I've been working on a 'fic with a plot about Mumbo preparing to eat Grian's soul in line with Hermitcraft Season 8 canon (One and a Half Birds). Obviously the story centers around Mumbo and Grian, but there's something about Impulse that just cracks me up.

This is a semi-realistic Minecraft universe where the villagers are more sentient and treated with more respect. Impulse spends the 'fic improving the farm and babysitting villager kids. It makes me laugh.

Obviously I'd never share the 'fic with him, but I hope on some level, Impulse would be amused to know there's a story that portrays his Minecraft persona as a guy who could've chosen to do anything in the fantasy world, and he opted to mend a villager's gloves and fix a fence. He is the happiest character in the story. He is living his best life.

[julietsf1]

Post-Race Snuggles - Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: After an intense Singapore GP, Franco’s idea of the perfect cool down is snuggling up in his girlfriend’s lap; very fluff <3

warnings: possibly incorrect Spanish?

AN - I can't keep lying to myself I think I am not just on here to read anymore lmao, this one is just 1k but I have another longer story coming tomorrow or so! enjoy my lovelies

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

The sticky warmth of Singapore’s night air clung to me as I sat in Franco’s motorhome, waiting for him to return. I flicked through some post-race coverage on my phone, knowing how drained he must be after a race like that. The screen showed him smiling during the interviews, but I knew better—Franco’s green eyes gave away just how tired he was.

When the door creaked open, I glanced up and saw him there, looking utterly exhausted, his brown hair messy and damp from the heat. His race suit was unzipped, hanging loosely around his waist. Franco didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. He walked over with heavy steps, wrapped his arms around me, and buried his face into my shoulder.

“Hi there.” I laughed softly, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair. It was fluffier than usual, curling slightly from the sweat and humidity. “Tough day?”

He let out a low groan, not bothering to lift his head. “Si…” His voice was muffled, and I could feel the exhaustion in the way his body leaned into mine. “So tired.”

I smiled softly, running my hand down his back, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his suit. Suddenly, Franco shifted, pulling back just enough to take my hand in his. His eyes, though heavy with fatigue, met mine for a brief moment, and without a word, he gently tugged me down onto the couch beside him.

With a quiet sigh, he laid back, guiding my body to follow his until I was leaning into him. His head found its way into my lap as he settled in. I felt his hand resting on my waist first, a soft, grounding touch, before it slid down to rest comfortably on my thigh. His thumb moved lazily, tracing small circles, as if he needed to hold onto me even in his tired state.

“You want me to make you something? Mate, or a snack?” I asked quietly, brushing my fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin.

He shook his head slowly. “No, just this. Esto es todo lo que necesito.” His voice was soft, the Spanish slipping out naturally as his eyes fluttered closed. His arms loosened slightly around my legs, his thumb brushing lazily against my thigh, the lightest touch, as if even that small movement required too much effort.

I chuckled, running my hand through his hair again, smoothing it down where it stuck up in odd places. “You did amazing today. P11! I’m so proud of you.”

A faint smile curved his lips. His breathing started to slow, the tension melting away as I continued stroking his hair. This was my favorite version of Franco—the quiet, soft one who didn’t need to be witty or flirty. Just the one who wanted to be close.

Franco’s weight settled fully against me, his eyes were shut now, his messy curls resting in my lap. His thumb continued its slow, lazy patterns on my leg, the sweet small gesture sending warmth through me. His skin was warm from the heat of the race, his hair slightly damp, and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked, even when he was this tired. His lashes were long, his green eyes hidden behind them, and his lips, parted slightly as he breathed, were soft, with the faintest smile still playing there.

“You looked so good out there today,” I whispered, knowing he probably couldn’t hear me in his tired state. “Fast, confident… and you know, kind of cute with all that sweaty hair.”

He let out a soft, breathy chuckle. “Most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

I grinned. “Don’t get used to it. I’m only nice to you when you’re too tired to remember.”

His lips twitched into a smile, but he didn’t respond, his breathing evening out even more. The motorhome was dimly lit, casting soft shadows, making everything feel even cozier. The sounds outside—people moving around the paddock, the distant hum of engines cooling down—faded away. It was just us, tangled up in the warmth of each other’s presence.

As I stroked his hair, I could feel him relax completely. His body was fully at ease, and I knew he was almost asleep. He looked so peaceful, his usual spark of energy tucked away for the night. I smiled down at him, my heart full. These moments, after the chaos of race days, were our little slice of quiet, where it felt like the world didn’t exist outside this motorhome.

Franco shifted slightly, nuzzling deeper into my lap. I thought he was fully asleep until his voice broke the silence, soft and raspy.

“Te amo,” he murmured, his eyes barely open, heavy with exhaustion.

My heart skipped a beat. He’d said it before, but hearing it now, with his defenses down, made it feel different. I glanced down, expecting to see him fully asleep, but instead, those green eyes peeked up at me through his lashes, tired but full of something deeper.

I felt a rush of warmth fill my chest. “I love you too,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead again, my fingers gently running through his hair.

His eyes fluttered shut at the kiss, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Más que a nada en el mundo…” he mumbled, his voice trailing off into sleep, the weight of his words lingering between us like a quiet promise.

I stayed like that, holding him close as he drifted off completely, my hand still in his hair, thinking about how easy it was to love him—especially in moments like this.

[inhonoredglory]

Aziraphale’s Choice, the Job Connection, and Michael Sheen’s Morality

Update: Michael Sheen liked this post on Twitter, so I'm fairly certain there is a lot of validity to it.

I’ve had time to process Aziraphale’s choice at the end of Season 2. And I think only blaming the religious trauma misses something important in Aziraphale’s character. I think what happened was also Aziraphale’s own conscious choice––as a growth from his trauma, in fact. Hear me out.

Since November 2022 I’ve been haunted by something Michael Sheen said at the MCM London Comic Con. At the Q&A, someone asked him about which fantasy creature he enjoyed playing most and Michael (bless him, truly) veered on a tangent about angels and goodness and how, specifically,

We as a society tend to sort of undervalue goodness. It’s sort of seen as sort of somehow weak and a bit nimby and “oh it’s nice.” And I think to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina. I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light…. The idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darkness, I think is nonsense. The idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love. I love seeing the things people have put online about angels being ferocious creatures, and I love that. I think that’s a really good representation of what goodness can be, what it should be, I suppose.

I was looking forward to BAMF!Aziraphale all season long, and I think that’s what we got in the end. Remember Neil said that the Job minisode was important for Aziraphale’s story. Remember how Aziraphale sat on that rock and reconciled to himself that he MUST go to Hell, because he lied and thwarted the will of God. He believed that––truly, honestly, with the faith of a child, but the bravery of a soldier.

Aziraphale, a being of love with more goodness than all of Heaven combined, believed he needed to walk through the Gates of Hell because it was the Right Thing to do. (Like Job, he didn’t understand his sin but believed he needed to sacrifice his happiness to do the Right Thing.)

That’s why we saw Aziraphale as a soldier this season: the bookshop battle, the halo. But yes, the ending as well.

Because Aziraphale never wanted to go to Heaven, and he never wanted to go there without Crowley.

But it was Crowley who taught him that he could, even SHOULD, act when his moral heart told him something was wrong. While Crowley was willing to run away and let the world burn, it was Aziraphale (in that bandstand at the end of the world) who stood his ground and said No. We can make a difference. We can save everyone.

And Aziraphale knew he could not give up the ace up his sleeve (his position as an angel) to talk to God and make them see the truth in his heart.

I was messed up by Ineffable Bureaucracy (Boxfly) getting their happy ending when our Ineffable Husbands didn’t, but I see now that them running away served to prove something to Aziraphale. (And I am fully convinced that Gabriel and Beelzebub saw the example of the Ineffables at the Not-pocalypse and took inspiration from them for choosing to ditch their respective sides)

But my point is that Aziraphale saw them, and in some ways, they looked like him and Crowley. And he saw how Gabriel, the biggest bully in Heaven, was also like him in a way (a being capable of love) and also just a child when he wasn’t influenced by the poison of Heaven. Muriel, too, wasn’t a bad person. The Metatron also seemed to have grown more flexible with his morality (from Aziraphale's perspective). Like Earth, Heaven was shades of (light?) gray.

Aziraphale is too good an angel not to believe in hope. Or forgiveness (something he’s very good at it).

Aziraphale has been scarred by Heaven all his life. But with the cracks in Heaven’s armor (cracks he and Crowley helped create), Aziraphale is seeing something else. A chance to change them. They did terrible things to him, but he is better than them, and because of Crowley, he feels ready to face them.

(Will it work? Can Heaven change, institutionally? Probably not, but I can't blame Aziraphale for trying.)

At the cafe, the Metatron said something big was coming in the Great Plan. Aziraphale knows how trapped he had felt when he didn’t have God’s ear the first time something huge happened in the Big Plan. He can’t take a chance again to risk the world by not having a foot in the door of Heaven. That’s why we saw individual human deaths (or the threat of death) so much more this season: Elspeth, Wee Morag, Job’s children, the 1940s magician. Aziraphale almost killed a child when he couldn’t get through to God, and he’s not going through that again.

“We could make a difference.” We could save everyone.

Remember what Michael Sheen said about courage and doing good––and having to “look the dark in the face to be truly good.” That’s what happened when Aziraphale was willing to go to Hell for his actions. That’s what happened when he decided he had to go to Heaven, where he had been abused and belittled and made to feel small. He decided to willingly go into the Lion’s Den, to face his abusers and his anxiety, to make them better so that they would not try to destroy the world again.

Him, just one angel. He needed Crowley to be there with him, to help him be brave, to ask the questions that Heaven needed to hear, to tell them God was wrong. Crowley is the inspiration that drives Aziraphale’s change, Crowley is the engine that fuels Aziraphale’s courage.

But then Crowley tells him that going to Heaven is stupid. That they don’t need Heaven. And he’s right. Aziraphale knows he’s right.

Aziraphale doesn’t need Heaven; Heaven needs him. They just don’t know how much they need him, or how much humanity needs him there, too. (If everyone who ran for office was corrupt, how can the system change?)

Terry Pratchett (in the Discworld book, Small Gods) is scathing of God, organized religion, and the corrupt people religion empowers, but he is sympathetic to the individual who has real, pure faith and a good heart. In fact, the everyman protagonist of Small Gods is a better person than the god he serves, and in the end, he ends up changing the church to be better, more open-minded, and more humanist than god could ever do alone.

Aziraphale is willing to go to the darkest places to do the Right Thing, and Heaven is no exception. When Crowley says that Heaven is toxic, that’s exactly why Aziraphale knows he needs to go there. “You’re exactly is different from my exactly.”

____

In the aftermath of Trump's election in the US, Brexit happened in 2018. Michael Sheen felt compelled to figure out what was going on in his country after this shock. But he was living in Los Angeles with Sarah Silverman at the time, and she also wanted to become more politically active in the US.

Sheen: “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it [meant] coming back [to Britain] – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.” In the end, they split up and Michael moved back to the UK.

Sometimes doing the Right Thing means sacrificing your own happiness. Sometimes it means going to Hell. Sometimes it means going to Heaven. Sometimes it means losing a relationship.

And that’s why what happened in the end was so difficult for Aziraphale. Because he loves Crowley desperately. He wants to be together. He wanted that kiss for thousands of years. He knows that taking command of Heaven means they would never again have to bow to the demands of a God they couldn’t understand, or run from a Hell who still came after them. They could change the rules of the game.

And he’s still going to do that. But it hurts him that he has to do that alone.

[monstersflashlight]

If I'm not pushing my luck, can you write something about you being the first hairy person that an elf has been with? Cause I was thinking about it and what if the first human(s) they've been with all shaved and they thought it was standard for us like it was for them, having no hair and all? I really do think they would be both confused and very curious/enthusiastic about it. And what if you were a bit self conscious about it too? 😪 Thank you I'm in love with your stories!!

Hi there! For everyone who hastn't read it, here's the question that started this idea. Enjoy!

Full bush

Elf x fem!reader || oral sex, pussy worship, body hair appreciation

When you got together you thought he already knew all he needed to know about humans. He was with a couple humans before you, two males and one female, so you thought he already knew... But you were wrong.

First time he saw you naked he stared. And stared. And stared some more to the point you got self conscious about it and ended up putting your clothes back on. You slept very unconfortab that night, and he said nothing. You might have cried a tiny bit. Next day he stared at you even with your clothes on, his eyes fixated in your genitals as you looked at him like he was the weird one (which he was). Later that day he broke down and asked you why did you have hair, if it was some kind of birth defect. You almost threw him out the house, but you breathed deeply and proceeded to explain to him that humans had body hair, that it was normal. He then explained that his previous humans had shaved or something because they were as hairless as elves and that's why he was so surprised when you took off your clothes. You understood his reasoning, but you were still a bit self-conscious, human culture already told you it was bad for you to have body hair, but you weren't about to let your elf boyfriend get away with it, too.

So you didn't take your clothes in front of him. Every time you slept together you put your pj's, not looking at him, and went to sleep with that. You weren't a fan of sleeping with clothes, but a woman had to do what a woman had to do. You could feel him hard behind you, but you weren't ready to face that disappointment and staring at your full bush.

But he wasn't having any of that.

By the fifth time you stayed at his house, he stopped you as you were getting undressed. You looked up at him in surprise, just to see his face flushed and a big tent in his sweatpants. "I- I want to see you," he stuttered.

"What?" You asked, your shirt halfway up your torso.

"I- I want to see your body hair," he confessed in a low tone. He looked so cute at the moment, but you were so fucking confused. You thought he hated your body hair.

You couldn't get the surprise out of your voice: "You do?"

"Yes. I- I liked it." He grabbed his dick and readjusted it, the tip pocking at the waistband of his sweatpants. Your mouth was salivating just looking at him shirtless and with those sinful grey sweatpants.

"You liked it?" You asked, your whole body vibrating with anticipation.

"Very much so..." He said, lowering his pants to let you see his erection already leaking profusely. You licked your lips and got undressed.

He stared and stared, and when your panties were finally on the ground, he licked his lips like you were his next snack. And good goddess if you weren't. He threw you on the bed and went down on you for hours. Your legs trembling around his head as he went to town and told you how great you were, how good you tasted and how glad he was that he discovered you had body hair. He sounded mesmerized by the fact and it made you blush as hard as ever as you came against his lips again.

By the time he was done, there was a pool of your juices under you and his face was completely drenched, but what surprised you more was the puddle of cum under him. You asked and he blushed hard, running to the bathroom to get you a towel.

Later, you discovered that he got so excited about you and your body hair and your pussy that he came at least four times while he ground against the mattress and eat you out. It was so hot thinking he got so worked up just by you being you that you had to push him down and blow him until he was crying.

You've never been so glad of his elf stamina.

[astrasng]

SCRATCH || BANGCHAN

MINORS DNI!

pairing: idol!chan x female!reader

summary: thanks to chan's solo stage you finally made him yours.

warnings: blood (from scratches obv), handjob, spanking, petnames (baby, honey, angel, sweetheart) unprotected sex, cursing

author's note: from my previous breakdown post bc of chan got me in an inspired mood so i made a little somethin somethin. still what the fuck was he thinking. also, if you're a regular reader by any chance (ily) you might have noticed i write jealousy tropes, IDKK WHY THO SORRY

important!: this is pure fiction, the act in this story is by my imagination and not based off true events. please do not copy the work.

enjoy!

It isn’t like you’re not supportive of your boyfriend. You’ve always been there for every idea, even if you thought that it wasn’t the best one. The things you have to deal with him being an idol settled deep into your mind, already accepting the consequences that may come in the way. But it’s not like you would ever give up your relationship with Chan just because he’s doing risky things that you may not like. 

To be honest, it kind of became an advantage for you. 

You would watch him having fun on stage with the other members, sometimes splashing water at each other, making everyone in the crowd either cheer or laugh at their silly behavior. There were times when they got sentimental, wishing all the happiness for STAY and the members for the future. It made you emotional just in the same way as you would watch them through the TV in your shared apartment. 

And then there were times where you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together and wait for him.

“Had fun today?” 

The sarcastic tone caught Chan’s attention as he’s doing his everyday night routine, just as he’s finishing up his shaving session. He knows exactly why you’re talking and reacting to him this way, you’ve been all fidgety with him since he got home from the first day of the tour, and when he stepped inside the apartment he saw you still sitting on the couch, not welcoming him in with the usual hug he gets. 

Chan looks a little bit to the side so he can get a reflection of you changing in the room, the towel you used laying on the ground after taking a shower. Without him. 

“Of course.It’s always heartwarming to meet with STAY’s. And the kids were so hyped about getting solo stages too.”

Now that just boils your blood. 

“Oh, were they?” You keep your back facing him,not letting him see how frustrated you really are about the game he’s playing. “They were doing an amazing job indeed.” You shut your eyes momentarily before putting on your velvet nightgown, and slowly walking towards the bathroom where your boyfriend is staying. 

“Yeah, I assume you saw mine too, right? Did you see the special makeup they did on me?” With pride he chuckles while putting away his shaving equipment, patting his dry as he picks up his toothbrush. His question should have a very easy and simple answer, yet here you are ready to give him a brainwash about not caring about your mental health. Cause what the hell was that? You can’t even form the offensive words you want to say to him out of frustration, you could never say anything negative about his performances in general — but the way he’s talking about it, so full of himself, you can’t help yourself. “I wonder who made all that.” It slips out, biting down on your lip softly to stop yourself from further embarrassment. 

“It must’ve been the makeup artist of course, but I could’ve done a better job if you ask me.” You step into the bathroom just as you finish your sentence, Chan unable to answer due to his mouth full with mint scented bubbles. 

As you want to pass behind him, you swipe your delicate fingers on his defined back muscles, the photos of him painted in scratches for the performance fills your vision. 

“Makeup was unnecessary,to be honest.” 

There’s something glinting in Chan’s eyes as a lopsided smile appears on his face, looking at you through the mirror placed above the bathroom counter. As the words leave your lips, he licks his plump lips slowly, putting away his toothbrush he just used. “If I had asked you, would you do it?” 

The air stops suddenly in your throat,taking your eyes off of him as you busy yourself with something else infront of you. “Well…it doesn’t matter now.” 

“Oh it does, honey.” Chan says lowly, his voice suddenly closer as you want it to, and you know perfectly he’s only a step away from you. “If I only knew my baby just wanted to help me out in my solo,” He snakes his arms around your waist slowly, his bare chest pressing into your clothed back as he’s standing behind you, whispering in your ear. “I could’ve used some help.” With that, he pressed a slow open mouth kiss on the side of your neck. his hands caressing the skin on your stomach. 

“Should we recreate it and show it to my makeup artist?”

Chan whispers against your ear, biting down slightly on your earlobe as he makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You look already disheveled just from his touch, your nightgown scrunched slightly up as he kneads your stomach, one of his hands slowly inching up to your breasts. “Would you like that, baby?” 

“I didn’t mean it like that, Chan – mhphm…” A small moan leaves your lips as he pinches your nipple in his slender fingers, continuing to make out with your neck as you try and compose yourself. 

“How did you mean it then?” He grunts out as you push your backside on his crotch, his cock twitching already in his sleeping pants at the thought of you being jealous. “Tell me.” 

“I–I just…” You try to form words, keeping yourself together and not yet falling for his words but then Chan sneakily slides his other down towards your waiting heat, his finger immediately meeting with slickness between your pussy lips. He groans again, grinding into your ass to ease the pain from being so hard. “Baby, if you want to scratch my back that badly just say it.” There’s something hiding behind his words which makes you shut your eyes from the pleasure he’s causing, your hands flying on the counter for support. “I kind of…wanted to..” Your breath hitches, cutting off your sentence when Chan flips your nightgown upwards to expose your wet pussy, your naked ass on display in front of him as he takes his hand away from your breast and caresses one of your cheeks. “You wanted what? Do you need some help darling?” He grunts under his breath when he feels you clench around his fingers, plugging it in and out to take your breath away. You moan out when you feel his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your back arch. 

But Chan doesn’t give in that easily. 

You suddenly feel a stinging pain on one of your cheeks, moaning out shamelessly from the sensation he just caused with his hand. When you pick your head up you see Chan already looking at you through the mirror, lust filled eyes raking over your already fucked out face. “Say it baby.” 

You can feel his hand smoothing over the place he just spanked, the air in the bathroom so humid you can feel yourself getting sweaty again. His finger never stopped working inside you, with that spank almost knocking you over the edge. 

When Chan doesn’t see you changing your mind and finally answer him, he only clicks his tongue and tilts his head to the side. Without a second thought, he slaps your ass again, his finger circling around your clit rapidly when he hears your pornographic moans echoing in the bathroom.

“I–I wanted to mark you!” 

And there it is. 

As you practically moan out the words, Chan’s finger is coated thickly with your cum as his words made you tip over the edge. Your whole body shaking in his arms as you come down your high slowly, trying to gather your thoughts and realizing what you just said.

When the words finally leave your mouth he can’t help but smirk, the possessive side of you finally showing for the first time in your relationship. “And why is that honey?” Chan teases you, seeing your ears red from the sudden confession you just made. 

“Just so everyone knows that you’re mine..” You mumble quietly, shame overcoming you as it paints your cheeks deep red. 

Something snaps inside Chan. He can’t help but groan out, his cock painfully hard against his pants as he turns you around and places his hands on your throat, slightly adding pressure on it. Before you know it, you’re pressed up against the wall, his lips already chasing yours. 

“Do it baby.” He kisses you, his tongue sneaks through his lips to taste your lip balm you applied earlier he loves so much. “I want you to do your worst on me,” He whispers between kisses, his hand suddenly picking you up to put your legs around his waist. Your whole body welcomes him, your mouth opens as he slides his tongue inside once again, and your fingers landing into his freshly washed hair as he devours your lips. His hand scrunches up your gown once again before he presses his hardness into your slick core. 

At the contact you moan out loudly, already wanting him inside you, to ease your pain that he caused. 

“Feel that baby? It’s all yours. Nobody else has that but you.” 

With a whine you throw your head on the wall, Chan’s lips continuing to leaves red splotches on your sensitive skin as he takes his hand and pushes down his boxers, hissing out the minute the air hits his precum covered cock, tip red from all the waiting and veins bulging with excitement. 

He drags his wet tip over your puffy lips, spreading them open more to make room for himself when he circles around your clit. As he slides his length between your folds, you feel all emotions gather up inside you, the feeling too hazy as your vision becomes blurry from the need. “Channie,,please..” 

“‘s okay baby,I’ll give it to you.” He chants when he finally pushes his tip inside you, groaning out from you uncontrollably clenching around his cock when he nearly settles halfway in. “You have to relax,angel. You make it impossible for me to–”

“Chan — I’m so sorry, I–” He hears you gasp out, your body all tensed up, your eyes wide open as you look into the mirror across you. He looks swiftly behind him to see your naked bodies melted into one, and then it catches his eye. 

With one thrust he settles fully inside you, moaning from how incredibly tight you are around his length, keeping himself back to not buckle into you rapidly. He puts his hand on your chin, making you look into his eyes and not on his blood covered back. “I asked you to do this, right?” With a softened gaze, he makes sure you understand what he’s saying, not taking his eyes off of you until he sees your lust filled expression again instead of worry ones. “Right baby?”

“Y-yes..” You gulp when you see your fingers slightly covered in red around his neck. “But I didn’t want to-”

“It’s fucking hot.” He hisses, his voice whinier than usual as he puts his forehead on your chest, his hips starting to move. “You did such a great job sweetheart.” He pulls completely out before thrusting into you again, this time harsher as he hears your cries next to his ears. 

When you take another look in the mirror, you see what you just caused. The moment you felt his cock hitting you so deeply you couldn't help but deepen your nails into his skin on his broad back, now covered with blood here and there. It softly dribbles down his defined muscles, and Chan is right. It is fucking hot. 

So you clench around him again when you feel his fingers circling around your clit, his cock hitting the perfect spot as he moans out your name. “Do it again.” He demands, his hand flying on the wall next to your head to thrust up harder into you, making you roll your eyes. As you see Chan so deeply in emotions you scratch his back again, now only deep redness showing on his pale skin. 

The pain on his skin makes him inch closer to his release. The jerks of his hips, slamming against your hips are quickening, becoming more erratic, intense and desperate. You cry out his name nonstop, feeling him twitching inside you. 

“Give it to me.” He’s breathless as he chants into the side of your neck. “I need you to come around my cock baby.” 

His demand tips you over the edge again, moaning out his name as you feel him curl against you, his shoulders on display for you to see what you painted on his back. His grunts are vibrating through your body, the pain melting into pleasure as he paints your insides with his thick cum, feeling so full of him, feeling him everywhere. Chan bites down softly on your skin,kissing the pain away quickly as you both come down from this high. 

You are his. He made sure a long time ago, but now, you made sure he was yours too as you watch the crimson red blood slowly sliding down his back, gathering it on your fingers.

“It took a solo stage for you to claim me as yours?” Chan asks when he softly puts you down on the bathroom counter, a bright smile painting his face once again.

like and reblog is much appreciated! ♡

divider by:@enchanthings

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 21- Paradise

Summary: Now that you and Javi are married, it's time for you to enjoy two weeks of nothing but your three favorite "S's"- Sun, sand, and sex. Lots of Sex.

Word Count: 13.9K

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving) vaginal fingering, praise kink, marriage kink, big, fat, nasty, unspeakable breeding kink (WHOOPS), stopping birth control/starting a family, kind of semi-public sex (sex on the beach hehe), alcohol/drinking (y'all are getting wasted at the pool), I'm convinced these two can't have sex without getting caught (sorry, Chucho), Javi in a bathing suit, these two are so stupidly in love

A/N: ..... Hey.... Y'all remember when I actually wrote for this story.... 😭 I'm genuinely SO sorry that this chapter took me literal months to finish, but she is finally here!!! Thank you so much for all of your patience and the love you've shown these two even in this story's absence 🥺 I hope you enjoy these two horndogs on their honeymoon!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“We have all of our bags?” 

“Yup.” 

“Passports?” 

“Mhmmmm.” 

“Plane tickets?” 

“Yes.” 

“We’re positive that we have-” 

“Baby, I promise, I triple checked everything this morning, it’s all waiting by the front door, all we have to do now is just wait for my dad to pick us up and take us to the airport, and all my wife needs to do is take a deep breath and relax.” 

My wife. 

Even though you had been married for less than 24 hours, you knew the sentiment of finally getting to be Javi’s wife wasn’t wearing off on you any time soon. 

Javi smiled, playfully crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at you as you ran through your honeymoon inventory again, knowing damn well you looked like a fool in your frantic pre-traveling state. You more than trusted that Javi had everything the two of you needed before you left for the airport, but you just couldn’t shake the fact that you felt like you were forgetting something, despite all your checks and re-checks. 

“Well, your wife will be much more relaxed once we land after being trapped in a flying tin can and have two feet on the ground again.” You sighed, trying not to let your fear of flying override your excitement to finally arrive in the Bahamas later that day. “God, I feel like I forgot to pack something important but I can’t figure out what.” 

As you stared in frustration at your pile of suitcases, you could feel Javi sneaking behind you, flushing his chest to your back as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he rested his chin on your shoulder, planting a soft kiss on your temple. 

“I think I know what it is.” Javi smirked, his kisses traveling down your jaw as he nipped at your ear, making you turn your head back toward him in confusion. 

“Oh, so now you’re a husband and a mind reader. That honestly will come in very handy.” You teased, giggling while you shifted around to face him, draping his arms around his neck as his hands traveled down your waist, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass. “Jesus Javi, what in the world am I forgetting, because you seem pretty darn happy I can’t remember it.” 

“You really don’t know?” Javi asked, almost mockingly, tightening his grip around your hips, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, the hot words of his breath dancing across your skin. 

“No, Mr. Mind Reader, I don’t, and you’re making it very hard to concentrate and figure out what it is.” 

You were trying your best to genuinely let your brain run out its train of thought, but as Javi’s kisses across your collarbone became wetter and sloppier, trying to form any sort of coherent idea was practically impossible. 

Javi paused for a moment, reaching both hands up to cusp your face, his broad hands cradling your jaw as his thumbs swiped across your cheeks, looking up at him to see the boyish grin spread from cheek to cheek. 

“You’re forgetting something because you’re forgetting to bring it on purpose. Something we threw away this morning, remember?” 

Oh shit. 

You were forgetting something. Only, now that you finally remembered what it was, you couldn’t be happier that you had forgotten it. 

Your birth control. 

As Javi watched your face quickly fade from confusion to delight, your grin was just about as wide as his, biting down on your lip to try and contain your excitement while your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. 

The two of you could actually start trying for a baby. 

“You remember now?” Javi teased, laughing to himself at how wide your eyes had gone, practically beaming from the inside out at your husband, feeling butterflies swirl in your stomach and heat building in your core. 

Leaning up, your mouth met Javi’s in a sloppy dance of tongues and teeth, lips crashing together in electric excitement, grabbing a fistfull of the fitted green t-shirt covering his chest and tugging him closer towards you. 

“How much longer until your dad is supposed to be here?” You rasped, already breathing heavily from your frantic kisses and anticipation. 

Quickly, Javi looked down at his watch wrapped around his wrist, the gears turn in his brain, calculating if the two of you had enough time to do what he knew you were proposing. 

“Fuck- Like, 40 minutes?” 

Without saying a word, both of you agreed in silent, rushed nods that 40 minutes was enough time to give yourself enough of a buffer, and the risk definitely didn’t outweigh the reward, knowing there was no way in hell that you could wait an entire plane ride and arriving at your hotel room to fuck. 

In an instant, your mouths were crashing together again, Javi grabbing the underside of your thighs to hoist you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you back towards the couch in the living room, the back of his knees hitting the sofa as he collapsed into his seat, you still straddling his lap without ever parting your lips. 

Javi’s hands crept below the hem of your shirt, shuffling it over your head and tossing it on the floor before shuffling your shorts and underwear off to join your top in a crumpled pile on the floor. Your hands worked rapidly at the waistband of Javi’s shorts, lifting up off his lap to push them down his thighs, revealing the hard and weeping mess his cock had already become since carrying you over to the couch, your cunt aching at the sight of his length and how desperately you wanted to be filled by it. 

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad.” You whimpered between your wet kisses, shifting yourself closer to hover over his dick, so turned on that you were convinced that your arousal was already dripping down your thighs at an embarrassing rate. 

“Baby, you have no fucking idea.” Javi groaned, dragging his fingers through your folds, your body jolting at the sensation at the pads of his fingers rubbing over your clit, throbbing and aching under his touch. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.” 

Reaching down to wrap your hand around the base of his cock, stroking it a few times, you slowly lowered yourself down onto his tip, knowing that with your limited time and how turned on you were, you didn’t want to feel anything besides the sweet sting of Javi’s stretch filling you to the brim. 

The two of you moaned in unison as you sank down on his length, bottoming out until you had taken every inch of him, taking a second to adjust to his size before rolling your hips over his lap in figure eights. 

“F-fuck, you feel so good, Javi.” You whined, circling your bottom half faster, the friction of the hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbing deliciously against your clit combined with Javi groping at your breasts, sucking at one of your pebbled nipples while he rolled the other between his fingers, making your breath hitch in the back of your throat. 

Javi began to let his hips rut up into yours, thrusting his length deeper into your cunt as you rode him, his hands sliding down the sides of your body and wrapping around your ass, massaging the plump flesh between his fingers while his lips crashed into yours again, catching each other’s muffled moans. 

“F-fuck…”  Javi whined, tightening his grip to try and maintain his composure as his thoughts began to flow straight from his brain through his mouth. “I’m gonna fuck you so full of me, Osita. Fuck a baby into you, get you pregnant, watch you grow our our kid and give us our perfect family.” 

“Oh my god- fuck- yes. Please, Javi. Fuck, I want you to knock me up. I wanna- fuck- I wanna  make you a daddy.” You moaned, running your hands through the dark curls of Javi’s hair as he began to pound into you even harder, his fingertips gripping your hips with bruising intensity as he guided you up and down his cock, the two of you both so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t heard a faintly familiar voice echoing from the front door. 

“Javi, Mija, I know I’m a little early but I figured you’d rather get to the airport earlier than later!” 

Little did poor Chucho know that today was one of the few times in his life that he would regret showing up anywhere earlier than expected. 

Surprised by the lack of response, despite the packed and stacked bags waiting by the front door, an unsuspecting Chucho kicked off his boots and began meandering down the entryway towards your living room, where and even more unsuspecting you and Javi were half dressed and sprawled across your couch trying to make a baby. 

“Javier? Mija? Are you two ready to leave soon? I was hoping that- Oh Dios Mio!” 

“AHHHHHHH!” 

With Javi’s back to his dad as you sat in his lap, you were the first to lock eyes with your now father-in-law, your jaw practically falling to the floor as you let out a panicked shriek, causing Javi to whip his own head around, terror running through his veins as he frantically threw you off his lap and tried to cover the both of you with the nearest blanket he could find. 

“Jesus Christ, Pops!” Javi shouted, hands covering his face that had turned bright red in quite possibly the world's worst kind of embarrassment. “Why are you here so early?! Please just, I- I don’t know, for Christ’s sake, please go wait outside!” He sighed, pointing towards the front door where Chucho had just regrettably entered from. 

“How was I supposed to know!? I figured I would be safe! Say no more, I will just go wait on the front porch. Aye, aye, aye…” Chucho replied, quickly scampering away towards the door, eyes peeled to the ground and arms up in self-defense, waiting until you heard the soft slam and clicking lock behind him before peering out from underneath your blanket shield. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, hands still covering his face as you looked up at him, cheeks glowing beet red in embarrassment. 

“Please don’t tell me your dad just walked in on us having sex…” You winced, absolutely knowing the answer to your question, but still somehow praying that maybe, just maybe, you were imaging things. 

“... My dad definitely just walked in on us having sex.” Javi sighed, his face as almost as red as yours, scrambling to find your clothes scattered between the cushions, tossing them over to you, frantically trying to cover yourself up to save any ounce of dignity you had left. 

“Well, looks like I am going to start walking to the airport because I don’t think I can ever make eye contact with your dad again…” You muttered, making you and Javi laugh just enough to try and ease the uncomfortable tension, wondering how in the world you were supposed to spend an entire ride to the airport with Chucho without wanting to crawl out of your skin. “I thought you said he was supposed to get here later!”

“Well that’s what I thought too, but apparently not!” Javi grumbled, shuffling his shirt over his head, combing his hand through his hair to try and fix the mess you had made raking your fingers through it. 

“Guess we won’t have any worries about getting to the airport on time…” 

“Guess you’re right about that. Fuck me…” 

“Sure you don’t wanna start walking?” 

While Chucho, you and Javi had seemingly made a silent pact to not say a peep to each other the entire car ride for the duration of your drive, every passing second seemed more awkward and uncomfortable than the last, truly regretting your decision to not grab your bags and walk along the highway to try and catch your flight. 

It wasn’t until Chucho began pulling up to drop the two of you off that he decided it was time to break your truce, his eyes meeting yours in the rear view mirror as the two of you sat awkwardly in the backseat, bracing yourself the moment you could feel his mouth begin to open. 

“You know, the night of our wedding, Lucia and I just couldn’t keep our hands off each other either, it was so-” 

“Dad!” Javi interjected, his face physically scrunching in pain at the thought of how his father planned to complete the rest of that thought, trying to cut him off before he could get any further. 

“Lo siento (Sorry)! God forbid I try to do something to ease the tension!” Chucho chuckled, throwing his hands up in defense at his statement. 

“I don’t think where you were headed was the way to do that, Pops.” Javi muttered, letting out another deep sigh of embarrassment. 

 “Well lucky for you, it looks like we’re here.” Chucho smiled, pulling into one of the parking spots outside of your gate and turning off the ignition. “Here, let me help you with the bags in the trunk and-” 

“Nope, already got it, Pops, please do not get out of the car.” Javi begged, practically sprinting out of the backseat to the trunk, you quickly following behind him, beginning to sheepishly unload your luggage from the car. 

Of course, Chucho being Chucho was not about to take no for an answer, slowly fumbling his way out of the car to greet the two of you at the trunk with a mischievous grin stretched ear to ear. 

“Pops, please, I told you I’ve got it, I-” 

“Oh hush, Javier, I am just coming out to say goodbye, yo promento (I promise).” Chucho laughed, grabbing Javi by the shoulder, giving him a little shake. 

“Bye Chucho.” You grimaced, leaning in reluctantly for a hug. “Thanks for dropping us off. S-sorry about earlier.” You couldn’t help but wince again, eyes darting to the ground at your last sentence. 

“Oh mija, don’t apologize. Could be worse.” 

“I’m not really sure how it could be…” You whispered under your breath, just loud enough for Javi to hear, making him hold back a snort. 

“Besides, I think this bodes well for my bet I have placed.” Chucho smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as the two of you looked at him in confusion, 

“Your bet?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at his dad. 

“Mhmmm. The bet between me, your family, Mija, and the Murphy’s.” 

“As much as I love a vague and cryptic guessing game, any chance you’re gonna tell us what that bet is?” You laughed uncomfortably, looking back between Javi and Chucho. 

“Oh, don’t you worry, Mija. I think the two of you will know soon enough. Okay, enough of that! I will let the two of you go. Have a safe flight and a wonderful trip. I couldn’t be happier for the two of you. Enjoy your first of your many amazing adventures as a married couple.” 

While you couldn’t deny you still weren’t far off from wanting to find the nearest hole and disappear in, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm at the sentiment of Chucho’s well-wishes, placing your hand in Javi’s and squeezing it tight, beaming up at your husband with love and excitement. 

“Thanks, Pops.” 

“Claro (of course). Alright, mijos, adios. Have fun. But not too much fun, if you know what I-” 

“Yup, we know exactly what you mean, bye, Dad!” Javi grunted, gently turning his father around and pushing him back towards the car making him laugh, giving the both of you one last wave goodbye before disappearing down the road. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m glad that’s over…” Javi sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“You can say that again. What bet do you think he was talking about?” 

“Honestly, no fucking clue. And truth be told, right now, I couldn’t care less. Because right now,” He paused, leaning down to hold your cheek in his palm, forcing your gaze up at him, “all I care about,” he paused once again, planting a playful kiss on your lips, “is getting my beautiful wife onto this plane so we can start our honeymoon.” 

“Say it again.” You smiled, pressing up on your tiptoes to kiss him back. 

“My wife. My beautiful, amazing, drop dead gorgeous wife, who has single-handedly made me the luckiest man in the entire world.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip as his grip tightened around you, making you giggle. 

“Easy there, Romeo, we still have a whole flight to get through, ya know.” 

Fortunately, your flight and arrival to the Bahamas was much less eventful than anything that had happened this morning, the embarrassment of your father-in-law’s unfortunate timing quickly fading away as you strolled up to the front desk to check into your room for the next ten days of nothing but what you had deemed your three favorite “S’s”- 

Sun, sand, and sex. 

Lots of sex. 

“Hi there! Welcome! My name is Cassandra, how can I help the two of you today?” A woman smiled politely from behind the check-in desk, quickly clacking away at her keyboard. 

“Hi. We’re checking in for Peña.” Javi beamed, grabbing your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over both sets of rings wrapped around your finger, knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever get used to the fact he was lucky enough to get to call you his wife for the rest of his life. 

“Perfect! Let me get right on that.” She nodded, fingers tapping across the keys as she looked up your information. “Any special reason for your stay here?” 

“Honeymoon.” The two of you answered in sync, laughing to yourselves at your well timed response. 

“Well why didn’t you say that to begin with?! Let me see if I have anything I can upgrade you to for your stay!” Cassandra scoffed, almost comedically offended that your opening line hadn’t been “It’s our honeymoon, upgrade our room please!” 

“Oh, you don’t have to-” 

“Oh, honey, please. This is my favorite part of my job. Absolutely the least I can do for the two of you. Congratulations. Just give me one second here and…. Ah! Yes! I thought this one was available. Let’s upgrade you to the Ocean View King Suite. This one is one of my favorite rooms. You get the most beautiful view of the sunrise right from your balcony!” 

You and Javi looked at each other beaming, grins plastered across your faces in surprise. “Thank you so much, this is so nice of you to do for us.” You smiled. 

“Of course. Least that I can do. Like I said, it’s one of the highlights of doing this job. Alright, well, here are your room keys!” Cassandra grinned, passing the key cards and room information over the concierge desk and handing them to you and Javi. “If you head over to your right, there’s a bay of elevators that will take you to your room. I hope that you two have a wonderful stay, and enjoy your honeymoon!” 

“Thank you again, we really appreciate it.” Javi nodded, stuffing things into his pocket before leaning down to give you a kiss and reaching back to grab his suitcase and your hand in his. 

As Javi turned, leading the two of you towards the elevator, you couldn’t help but laugh at Cassandra’s face, her eyebrow playfully raised and head nodding in approval, pointing at Javi and giving you a thumbs up, as if you needed more confirmation that you had made a top-tier choice on the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. 

“What’s so funny?” Javi smirked, tilting his head in confusion at your giggles as the two of you stepped into the elevator with the small crowd of people on their way back to their hotel rooms. 

“Nothing. Just some reassurance that I cleaned up pretty damn well in the husband department, which I can’t say I disagree with.” You snickered, reaching up to wrap your hand around his jaw, squeezing his cheeks in your grasp. 

“You’re such a dork, you know that?” 

“A dork who is now your wife, thank you very much.” You sassed, crossing your arms over your chest, making the two of you laugh quietly to yourselves until the ding of the elevator caught your attention. “Oh! I think this is us!” Quickly scrambling to grab your suitcase, you dashed out of the elevator as the doors parted, followed by Javi, trying to keep up with your excited pace. 

“Alright, Mrs. Dork, we’re room 2331.” Javi grinned, pulling the information from the front desk out of his pocket, scanning the hallway for rooms approaching your number, watching you search in front of him with detective-like accuracy. 

“Okay, let’s see, 2329… 2330… Here! Here it is! 2331!” You beamed, showing off the number of your room Vanna White style to Javi as he began to slip the room key into the card reader, pausing for a moment to stare at you with his sweet brown eyes in the midst of your goofiness. “What’s that look for?” You teased, smiling back at him. 

“Just reminding myself of how lucky I am. I love you, Mrs. Peña.” 

Mrs. Peña. 

You couldn’t help but let your heart skip a beat at the sound of him saying it, still not quite sure that the incredible reality of your new last name had completely sunk in with you yet. 

“I love you too, Mr. Peña. Now, you gonna open this door so we can put this room to use or what?” You smirked, raising your eyebrow at him playfully, gesturing towards your hotel room door. 

With a quick swipe of your room key the two of you unlocked your door to get a first glimpse of your hotel room. At first, the both of you were convinced you must have been in the wrong place, because this was the most beautiful, luxurious hotel room that you had ever laid eyes on. Complete with a giant king bed covered in fresh white sheets, free standing tub, huge couch and living room area, newly renovated, and most impressively, a huge set of sliding glass doors that lead to your balcony overlooking a breath-taking view of the beach and ocean below you. 

Mental note to self- you owed Cassandra at the big desk the biggest thank you ever. 

“Holy shit, Javi. This is gorgeous.” You muttered to yourself, dropping your bags off at one of the closets at the front of the room as you began to wander and explore, gently poking and prodding around as if you were a tourist in a museum, rather than a hotel guest in your own room. 

“It’s got no lack of options, that’s for sure.” Javi laughed quietly to himself, following behind you as he set down his own bags before doing an investigation of his own, the majority of which was spent watching you excitedly explore the in’s and outs of your new home for the next 10 days. 

“No lack of options?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion, as you turned towards Javi, hands resting on his hips with a smug grin spread from ear to ear. 

“Mmmhmmm.” He replied, making his way towards you until his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest to force your gaze up at his brown eyes, pooling with an equal combination of excitement and mischief. “No lack of options in this room for places I get to fuck my beautiful wife.” 

“You’re so bad!” You teased, giving him a little slap to his chest as the two of you laughed, knowing that you had the exact same thought, he was just the first to say it. 

“Oh c’mon, like you didn’t think the same thing.” 

“Okay listen… you’re not wrong. I would be a liar if I didn’t walk in here and think about how many different furniture choices we could fuck on before we had to leave.” You sighed in a playful defeat, your breaths slowly transforming to light and giggly to low and needy as Javi slid his hands resting on your hips down to your ass, palming it in his grasp. 

Craning his head down to rest in the crook of your neck, you couldn’t help but moan as he sucked at your pulse point, wet kisses consuming your neck and jawline as a damp patch began to pool in your underwear, falling apart under Javi’s touch. 

“Well if that’s the case, what should we break in first, Osita? What does mi esposa (my wife) want? ” Javi hummed, slipping his hands under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pushing them over your hips and down your legs until they pooled around your ankles, leaving your bottom half bare. 

Snaking his hand between your bodies, you whimpered as his fingers ghosted over your core, grazing over your clit with just enough pressure to make you shutter in anticipation, feeling the slick of your arousal beginning to coat your thighs with want and need. 

“F-fuck-” You stammered, trying to string together anything that resembled a coherent thought, “The b-bed. Fuck me on the bed, baby, please.” 

Without another word, Javi had scooped you up under your thighs, forcing your legs to lock around his waist as he carried you toward the bed, mouths crashing together in a hungry mess of tongues and teeth. 

Javi set you down, gently laying your back on the bed just enough to let your lower half hang off the edge so he could make a home between your legs, draping each one over his shoulders and pushing them open further to reveal the wet, puffy mess in between your thighs. 

You should have been embarrassed with how worked up you already were from a few kisses and some ass grabbing, but with how excited you were to be here with your husband, without a worry in the world besides how many times you could disrespect your hotel room before you had to leave, you had no shame in how you were already dripping with anticipation as Javi’s eyes locked on your core. 

“Fuck, she’s so pretty.” Javi cooed, admiring the glistening sheen of your slick covering your folds, planting gentle kisses along the soft skin of your thighs, creeping closer and closer to your center. You sat up on your elbows to watch as Javi’s fingers lazily traced your cunt, collecting your arousal, rubbing with just enough pressure to make your clit throb even harder than it already had been. “Always so wet for me, Hermosa. My perfect wife. Fuck, I still can’t believe you’re all mine forever.” 

“Forever.” You whimpered, breath hitching in the back of your throat as Javi’s tongue dragged across your core with a broad, flat stroke, looking up at you with those devastatingly sweet, chocolate brown eyes, pulling off you with the look you knew all too well meant you were absolutely a goner. 

“Tastes so fucking sweet, baby.” Javi hummed, carefully bringing two fingers to your core, sinking them inside your weeping hole to prod steadily against your g-spot 

“Oh my god, fuck-” You whimpered, Javi working at a painstakingly slow pace that still had you writhing under his touch, his mouth and fingers moving in the perfect combination of pressure to already have a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine despite the fact he had just started eating you out. 

Your jaw went slack as his digits prodded faster, his tongue swirling and flicking against your sensitive bundle of nerves, ragged moans and whimpers escaping from your lips, growing louder and more wonton by the second. 

“That’s my girl.” Javi cooed, pulling off you just enough to catch your attention, his fingers never faltering in pace, “Fuck, I could listen to you like this all day, Osita. All the pretty noises my wife makes just for me. C’mon, baby. You want everyone here to know who makes you feel this good, huh? Tell them, sweet girl, who makes you feel this good?” 

“Y-you, Javi, fuck- You do, baby.” You moaned, feeling your pussy begin to flutter around Javi’s fingers as his smug smirk pressed back against your cunt, now sucking at your clit with a ferocious switch intensity he knew would send you over the edge in an instant. 

Squeezing Javi’s head between your thighs, you cried out louder, chanting his name like a prayer with each second you grew closer and closer to your end, feeling arousal creeping through your body at a rapid rate. 

“Javi, Javi, fuck- Oh, baby, Javi, I’m gonna- gonnaahhhhhhh-” 

In an instant, your orgasm crashed through you, filling you with all consuming pleasure that had you seeing stars, sobbing out as your cunt clamped down around Javi’s fingers that were pulsing inside you through your high. 

At this point, you were probably close to suffocating your poor husband, but it was his own damn fault for knowing how to make you cum so hard, your soul just about left your body. 

Finally regaining enough inhibition, you let your legs fall open, freeing Javi from the thigh prison he had trapped himself in, still smirking with delight despite his red face and shortness of breath. 

“Jesus Christ, Osita.” He laughed, standing up as he began to shed his clothes, tossing his shirt and shorts in a crumpled pile on the floor, followed by his already tented and stained boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, slapping against his stomach and bobbing between his legs as it was freed. “You tryin’ to kill me, baby?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” You huffed, chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths as you came down from your high. “Sorry, not my fault you make me cum so hard I put you in a headlock between my legs.” 

You and Javi both couldn’t help but laugh as he helped you slide further up the bed, crawling over you and caging you under his broad body, peppering every inch of your body with kisses and intentionally tickling you with his mustache in all the places he knew made you giggle the most. 

“If I die between my wife’s thighs buried face deep in her pussy, I’d die a happy man.” 

“Well I have no plans on intentionally murdering you on this trip, so count yourself safe this time, Peña.” 

“Baby, I’m convinced you’re just trying to kill me slowly this entire trip, considering you have nothing packed in your suitcase besides bikinis and sundresses.” Javi sighed, arms planted around your head as he laid overtop of you, kissing up your collarbone and neck, all the way up your jawline. 

“Javier Peña, we are literally on a tropical vacation to the Bahamas. Would you have liked me to pack, a parka and snow pants?” You teased, breath hitching in the back of your throat between giggles, trying to maintain your composure between the wet, hot kisses, Javi was planting across your skin. 

“No,” He grumbled, “You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever fucking met, baby, you don’t think people aren’t staring at you everywhere you go? I can’t fucking blame ‘em, but they better notice that ring on your finger and know you’re off limits.” 

Heat crept through your cheeks, butterflies swirling in your stomach from what he had said, picking up on the notion behind his thoughts. Javi wasn’t a jealous man, but fuck, was he a protective one, and God help any man who tried to knowingly make a move on you while he was around. 

He wanted everyone to know you were his, and you just as badly wanted everyone to know he was yours. 

“Maybe just the ring isn’t enough, baby.” He smirked, nipping and tugging at your skin with his teeth as he snaked his hand between your bodies to stroke himself and line his cock up with your entrance. “‘Cause you know what else isn’t in your suitcase?” 

Your birth control. 

You didn’t have to say a word to know exactly what Javi meant, your face swelling with a mixture of excitement and want. 

“Javi, oh fuck-” You moaned, cut off by the sweet sting of Javi pushing into you, filling you up with every inch of himself until he had bottomed out, stalling for a moment to let you adjust to his fullness before slowly dragging his cock in and out of your cunt. 

“Maybe,” he groaned, biting down on his lip at just how good you felt around him, warmth and wetness coating his length with each stroke, “Maybe that ring on your finger isn’t enough, Ostia. Maybe once they see you pregnant with our baby growing inside you, they’ll know you’re mine.” 

It never failed to amaze you just how Javi knew how to make you short circuit with words alone, hoping the entire resort didn’t hear the absolutely pathetic whimper you let out at the idea of finally carrying his baby, showing off your family to the world, and the man who had given it to you.  

“Fuck, knock me up Javi. Wanna- wanna make you a daddy.” You whined, wrapping your arm up around his neck, running your fingers through his dark and sweaty curls, tugging him closer to you until your mouths were molded in a messy clash of tongues and teeth. 

“Christ- Yeah, baby girl? Fuck, I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you, it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take. Keep you stuffed with my cum every day until it sticks.” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth as he grabbed the backs of your thighs, pushing them to your chest and pulling you closer to him so your back began to arch, giving himself the perfect angle to split you open and keep every last drop inside of you. 

You could feel every inch of Javi filling you, perfectly punching against that soft, spongy spot inside your cunt with each thrust, keeping your thighs still pressed against your chest as the lower half of your legs wrapped around the small of Javi’s back, ankles locking together to keep him as close and deep inside you as you could. 

“Dámelo, papi.” You cooed, wicked smile stretched from ear to ear watching Javi physically having to stop himself to let out a strangled groan, clenching his jaw and scrunching his face to keep from busting right then and there.  

“Jesus, fuck-” Javi grunted, finally gaining enough composure to open his eyes and look back down at you beneath him, smugly smirking, “That’s how this is gonna go, huh?"

The chocolate brown of Javi’s eyes began to darken with lust, dragging his cock out and ramming into you so deeply, a pathetic whimper fell from your lips, nearly knocking the wind out of your chest feeling him practically in your stomach. Your whimpers quickly turned to sobs as he did it again, slowly dragging his length out of your wet, warm walls before pounding back in to you with a blinding intensity. 

Leaning down, Javi grabbed your arms, pushing them outstretched above your head until your wrists were crossed over each other and Javi had them both in his firm grasp, pinning you to the bed with the weight of his body and grip. It was like something feral had ignited inside him, brow furrowed and teeth gritted with a laser focus, snapping his hips to thrust himself deeper and harder, melting you to a helpless puddle beneath him, your cries of pleasure and desperation only egging him on more. 

“You want me to fill you up, baby? Then you’re gonna be a good girl and take every last fucking drop. Every. Last. One.” He huffed, syncing his words to each thrust, keeping a bruising grip over your wrists with one hand, and digging his fingertips into the meat of your hips with his other. “Tell me what you’re gonna do for me, baby girl. Tell me whose pussy this is.” 

“It’s yours, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- it’s yours, baby! I- oh shit- I promise I’ll be a good girl and take it all. Want you to fill me up, Papi.” You sobbed, arousal seeping through your veins as Javi’s cock punched against your g-spot over and over, each stroke faster and more intense, blinding your body with pleasure. 

Your hotel room was drenched in the borderline pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin, wet squelching of your pussy squeezing Javi’s cock tighter and tighter as you could feel the coil beginning to tighten in your stomach, crying out without any inhibition for your volume, Javi grunting and panting with equal intensity. 

“That’s my girl. You gonna let everyone hear who this pussy belongs to? Let everyone know that I’m gonna fill you up and get you pregnant?” Javi mewled, watching the way your eyes were nearly rolling in the back of your head, snaking his hand gripping your hip down between your bodies to rub firm and frantic circles around your clit to help push you over the edge knowing how close you were. 

As soon as the calloused pads of Javi’s fingers were pressed against your sensitive nub, you were seconds away from the brink of collapse, cunt clamping tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, choking it with your velvety walls. 

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, fuck, I’m so close baby. Don’t stop, don’t stop, please, fuckfuckfuckfuck!” 

Instantly, your orgasm crashed through your body, blinding white heat flooding your vision, pleasure shooting through every inch of you to the point you felt like you had left your own body. You could feel your body going limp beneath Javi, knowing he wasn’t far behind you given all his tell tale signs as you soaked his length with your arousal. 

Javi’s thrusts had forgone any type of rhythm, now sloppy and erratic, his balls tightening and tensing in his stomach, babbling and moaning in your ear, whispering sweet nothings before he found himself in the same state of you. 

“That’s it, hermosa. Cum all over my cock. Cum all over me before I fill up this tight little pussy so full it’s got no choice but to take. Oh fuck- Fuck, can’t wait to get you pregnant. See you carrying our baby. Gonna make you the prettiest fucking Momma-ahhhhhhh, fuck!” 

With one final stutter of his hips, Javi was painting the inside of your cunt with thick, warm ropes of his spend, keeping himself flushed as tight as he could to your pelvis, making sure a single drop didn’t escape as he plugged you with his cock, cumming so hard he couldn’t help but whimper. The weight of his body slumped on top of you, syncing your heavy breaths, the sticky and sweaty sheen of your chests pressed together as Javi planted a slow and sensual kiss on your lips, swallowing your moans in his mouth. 

“Holy fuck.” You half whispered to yourself, letting out a bliss-filled giggle.

“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Javi panted, quietly laughing along with you, gently brushing the damp and wild strands of your hair out of your face, “Fuck- You gotta be careful with that “Papi” shit, Osita.” 

“Oh yeah? And why would that be?” You teased, smirking as you raised an eyebrow at him and bit down on your lip, knowing damn well why. 

“Because if you keep that up, I don’t think we’re ever leaving this room.” 

After dinner and giving a few more pieces of furniture in your hotel room a good test run, the two of you had happily called it a night on day one of your honeymoon, eager to explore the rest of the resort as the two of you rose with the golden rays of the sun beaming over the horizon of your ocean view window, flooding your room with warm and welcoming sunlight. 

As much as the both of you were convinced you could have easily spent the next 10 days without leaving your hotel room, you made a pact that you would spend some time going to explore the rest of the resort after spending some much deserved post-wedding de-stressing in the sun by the pool, drinking as many mojitos and frozen daiquiris as you could stomach. 

And as amazing as non-stop sex with Javi would have been, soaking up in the sun poolside with a drink on one side of you and a shirtless husband on the other, you’d say that this was a pretty close second. 

“Another one?” Javi smirked, eyebrows raised at you as his brown eyes peeked over the edge of his aviators, gesturing at your nearly empty glass. 

“I mean… if you’re offering.” You giggled, tipsy after a few drinks and hours baking in the sun, happily holding out the remainder of your mojito for Javi to exchange for a new one. 

“I think the bartender and I are about to be on a first name basis pretty soon.” Javi laughed, shuffling out of his beach chair, grabbing his empty cup along with yours to bring back with him to the poolside bar that had been visited a questionable amount of times by the two of you since you had gotten to the pool this morning. 

“Yeah? Are you gonna tell the bartender the frozen strawberry margaritas you’ve been getting from him all day are for you and not for your wife?” You teased, pulling your sunglasses down to look at Javi, playfully rolling his eyes back at you. 

“Shut up. They’re fucking addicting. You had one, can you blame me?” 

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Mr. I Won’t Drink Anything But Beer and Whiskey. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Although, I’m sure Steve would get a kick out of knowing you’ve downed like, 7 of these since we’ve gotten here.” 

Setting down both of the drinks, you found yourself in a fit of squeals and giggles as Javi reached down to scoop you up out of your chair, carrying you bridal style to the edge of the pool before jumping in with the both of you, the refreshing cool of the pool water crashing over you as your bodies bobbed under the surface. 

“Pendejo!” You laughed, splashing Javi as your heads peered above the edge of the water, Javi shaking his hair, damp and clinging to his forehead from your added assault, grabbing you by the waist before you could go any further, shifting you to wrap your legs around him as he held you, childishly swaying you through the water. 

“Te amo, esposa.” (I love you, wife) Javi teased in a mocking tone, responding to your name calling. 

“Joke’s on you, because I wanted to get into the pool anyways. You’re lucky you’re handsome. Mojito me, Peña.” You splashed again, rolling your eyes at his over exaggerated kiss before he swam away, shooting you a wink while he waded his way to the poolside bar. 

It wasn’t long before Javi was making his way back, a drink in each hand, happily handing you your mojito as he got to the edge of the pool where you were sitting, lifting himself up to sit beside you and take a swig of his margarita. 

“Miss me?” He smirked, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Terribly. Most agonizing 6 minutes of my entire life.” You teased, playing into the dramatics as Javi picked up your left hand, admiring the diamond ring and wedding band adorned on your finger before gently kissing it. 

“Sorry to keep my wife waiting. I hope that you’ll accept this mojito as a token of my apology.” 

“I think that’s a fair enough compromise.” 

After a few more hours and several drinks later, it was safe to say that you and Javi had definitely both been in better states than you currently were, too far gone to care about the potential consequences of tomorrow’s hangover to stop yourselves. 

“What time do you think it is?” You asked, sunkissed body sprawled out across the pool chair. 

“Wife O’Clock.” Javi answered, snickering to himself at his answer. 

“Javier Peña, that’s not a real time, you dork.” 

“Half past mojito. A quarter ‘til my next margarita.” 

“Jesus Christ….” You paused, one of the life guards crossing behind you catching your attention, “Hey, excuse me! Do you know what time it is?” 

“Uhhhhh, looks like it’s almost 6!” The lifeguard replied, looking down at his watch before continuing on his path. 

“6?! Oh shit!” You gasped, sitting up straight in your chair. 

“What? What’s happening at 6?!” Javi inquired, seemingly less concerned with whatever was supposed to be happening then that had you so riled up. 

“Javi, we're supposed to be at dinner right now! We made reservations at that italian place, remember?!” You grimaced, frantically starting to grab the towels and clothes you had scattered around the pool deck. 

“Oh fuck! Shit, uh- okay, here, lemme help you!” Javi joined in on the gathering of any item that belonged to you that he could find, tossing it into the bag you had brought down with you, hoping that you didn’t forget anything that had come with you to the pool. 

While the haphazard gathering of items was a good enough sign to any onlooker that you and Javi were more than likely intoxicated, the both of you didn’t realized just how drunk you were until you both tried to stand up out of your beach chairs, grabbing on to each other in a wobbly dance of giggles.  

“Woah, I think I drank a little lotta margaritas.” Javi stammered, laughing to himself. 

“Fuck, I did too. Jesus, how many do you think we had?” You giggled, face scrunching in anticipation of the number that was definitely going to be higher than you had intended when you came to the pool this morning. 

You could see Javi trying to drunkenly calculate his trips to the pool bar in his head, counting across his fingers in a serious concentration, tongue sticking out of his mouth, as if it was going to help him focus better. 

“Let’s see, I think after adding them all up… We drank a lot.” 

“If we can’t even come up with a number, that’s not good. Fuck, I didn’t even bring real clothes! Our room is so far from the restaurant, there’s no way we’re even gonna be close to making it!” You pouted, shrugging your shoulders in defeat. 

“Just put on the cute little dressy thingy over your bathing suit. Or just go in your bikini. You’re so hot they have to let you in.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip as he looked you up and down, giving you his best drunken attempt at his bedroom eyes. 

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t think the other patrons of this resort want to watch me eat pasta half naked, ya sicko.” You teased, giving him a nudge to his stomach a little harder than you had intended. “Okay, cover up will have to do, I guess. Do you have your shirt?” 

“You don’t wanna watch me eat pasta half naked?” 

“As much as I’d love to, maybe another time, weirdo. Okay, we have to go! Or else we’re not getting any pasta, naked or not! Focus, Peña, focus!” You commanded in your best pretend stern voice, grabbing the rest of your things in your hands while Javi stood there, admiring you like the drunken, lovesick fool he was. 

“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re bossy.” Javi smirked, raising his eyebrows at you, “Okay, fine, fine fine, let’s go. Lead the way, Mrs. Peña.” 

If you didn’t feel drunk enough after simply trying just to stand up out of your pool chairs and collect all your belongings within a 5 foot radius of you, you sure as hell did trying to drunkenly navigate the resort to find the restaurant you were looking for. After asking several employees, you somehow managed to stumble your way through the hotel to find your intended location, “Ciao!” , one of the higher-end dining experiences the two of you had planned for your vacation. 

“Hi. We are married, and we are here to eat pasta.” Javi proclaimed to the hostess at the front of the restaurant, who was looking back and forth between you and Javi, riddled with confusion not only by Javi’s opening statement, but from the fact the two of you were nearly out of breath from running around every inch of the resort, clearly drunk, and still dressed in your swimsuits. 

“Ummmm, okay? What’s the name on the reservation?” The hostess asked hesitantly, flipping through the pages of names and times written down for seating tonight. 

“Peña. We were supposed to be here at 6 but we had a lil too much fun at the pool, but not enough fun that we completely forgot about dinner! We’re really sorry!” You explained, trying your best to keep your composure, biting your tongue to subdue your drunken giggles. 

“Yeah, like, so sorry. I had a lot of margaritas today.” Javi added, turning his head to let out a little burp at the end of his sentence. 

“I don’t see any Peña’s on the reservation for tonight….” The hostess sighed, flipping back and forth between today’s pages, clearly not amused by either of your antics. 

“Oh no… Does that mean we’re not getting pasta? Shit.” Javi pouted, crossing his arms over his chest like a little boy. 

“Oh wait, are- are you sure it was a reservation for today? I see Peña on here at 6 for tomorrow?” 

“Oh shit…” You and Javi replied, nearly in sync, visibly grimacing at the fact that you had spent the past 45 minutes in an alcohol induced frenzy, running through the resort to find a restaurant you weren’t even supposed to eat at until tomorrow. 

Whoops. 

“My bad….” You shrugged, sheepishly frowning as you looked back and forth between the hostess and Javi, “Okay, well, um, we’re gonna- We’re gonna go then.” You winced, grabbing Javi by the hand to slowly drag him away from the restaurant, hoping that the physical distance would somehow spare you the embarrassment you had just subjected yourself to. 

“You’re fine, just- We do ask that our guests wear more, um- appropriate attire when they come to dine with us.” The hostess scoffed, huffing at you and Javi, looking you up and down with your beach bound outfits and hands full of pool accessories as you continued to back away. 

“She doesn’t wanna see us eat pasta in our bathing suits?” Javi whispered in your ear, making you snort so loud it almost hurt your chest, trying to keep from bursting into full blown laughter before making it out of eye and earshot of the hostess, jabbing him in the stomach with your elbow, only spurring him on further, “She doesn’t know how sexy you’d look shoving a fist full of garlic bread down your throat with nothing on but a bikini? Her loss.” 

Now out of sight of the restaurant, you and Javi exploded into an obnoxious fit of drunken giggles, feeling completely idiotic for wasting nearly the last hour of your night in a whirlwind journey to nowhere. 

“Well, looks like no pasta for dinner tonight.” You sighed, playfully throwing up your hands in defeat. “I am starting to get really hungry though… Like too hungry to go back up to the room and change and then come back down and wait at a restaurant for more food.” 

“Yeah, shit, I’m really hungry too… Wait!” Javi paused, his face lighting up with excitement. 

“What, Jav?” 

“Didn’t we pass a pizza place on the way up to the room when we first got here? 

The grin on your face was now equally as wide, almost certain that you and Javi were having the same drunk recollection. 

“I knew there was a good reason I married you.” 

Somehow or another, you had not only managed to find your way to “Papa’s Pizzeria”, you had managed to successfully order an extra large pizza for the two of you to split, and make it back to the room without any pizza casualties on the way. 

Even a drunken you couldn’t help but realize how lucky she was to have married a man like Javi, and not just because of his excellent memory for pizza restaurants- What you had been through in the past hour and a half could have easily sent any other couple into an ugly spiral of arguments and blame they’d cast upon each other for “ruining” the rest of their night. 

You’d been witness to so many relationships and marriages where couples barely managed to genuinely enjoy each other’s company, let alone have fun together. Cohabitation drenched in resentment and unhappiness towards each other, forced proximity the only thing keeping them together.  

You were positive that there would never be enough “thank you’s” that you could send out into the universe for letting you marry your best friend. 

Because what would have been a soiled evening for so many others, was quickly turning out to be a better night than you could have ever imagined, plans tossed out the window to sit cross legged in your king sized bed together, bodies draped in fluffy hotel robes as you mowed down on slices of pepperoni pizza, giggling over shared, drunken secrets with your favorite person in the world. 

“Okay, your turn now.” You snickered, shoving another bite of lukewarm pizza into your mouth, giving Javi a playful shove into the sea of pillows at the head of your bed. 

“I just went!” He protested, trying to talk through the mess of cheese, sauce and crust he was still chewing. 

“Nuh uh! I just did, remember? We got off topic because we started talking about the Farrah Fawsect poster you had in your room that your mom made you take down, but you were the one who asked me about who my first celebrity crush was, remember?” You insisted, pointing your half bitten piece of pizza at him, forcing him to hold up his hands in defeat. 

“Okay, okay! Can’t blame me for forgetting after thinking about that poster, though.” Javi shrugged, smirking at the thought of his 12 year old self gawking at the beautiful blonde actress hanging above his bed, “Shit…. Gimmie a second, let me think.” 

“I’ve given you plenty of seconds, goofball! Like all the seconds I spared you thinking about Farrah.” 

“Shut up. Okay,” he paused, taking another bite of pizza, “who was your first kiss?” 

“Really? Why, you gonna go hunt him down?” You snorted, feeling like you were gossiping with your teenage best friend at a sleepover rather than with your husband, Javi laughing along with you as he shook his head, “It was Jack Mullins in the 7th grade.” 

“Okay, and?” Javi prodded, smirking as he interrogated you for more information. 

“It was at a Halloween Party my friend Sarah had at her house. I’m pretty sure we were playing truth or dare, and all my friends knew I had a massive crush on him because he was the cutest boy in the 7th grade. So they dared me to kiss him and I did it. It was so awkward, and I had no idea what I was doing. Pretty sure we kissed while the “The Monster Mash” was playing, too. I was so embarrassed after that I cried in the bathroom and then walked home and didn’t even say goodbye to anyone. Didn’t ever think I’d speak to him again and he ended up being my date to prom.” 

“Wow. That was a way better story than I was expecting to get. “The Monster Mash”? Truth or Dare?” Javi chuckled as your cheeks turned red, watching your eyes at his enjoyment of your story. 

“Okay, I was 12 Javi, some of us were weird, awkward teenagers. I’m sure that you were very easily the Jack Mullins of your middle school and had girls at the door lining up to kiss you.” You rebutted, having seen plenty of pictures of teenage Javi, thanks to Chucho, knowing whatever awkward phase he went through was only a fraction of your pre-teen pain. 

“No, I wasn’t. I was a pretty shy kid. All my friends had their first kiss way before I did.”  Javi shrugged, now sounding slightly more embarrassed. 

“Okay, so what? They were 12 and you were 13? I don’t believe it. I would have had the biggest crush on you in middle school.” 

“I’m being serious!”  

C’mon, Javi, if I’m telling you about my Monster Mash kiss, I get to hear about yours!” You insisted, giving him the biggest fake pout that you could muster until he gave in. 

“I- I was 16 when I had my first kiss.” 

“You’re joking.” 

“Why would I joke about that?” 

“16?!” 

“Osita, you’re making it sound like I was 72 when I had my first kiss, not 16.” 

“Considering how cute you were, yeah, I am! Okay, spill! Now I need to know!” 

“I’m telling you, I was a shy kid. Didn’t really come out of my shell until 10th grade when I started doing swimming. There was a girl on the team I always thought was really cute, but I was too chicken shit to do anything about it. All my friends had girlfriends and dates to go to homecoming with, and I didn’t have anyone, so they forced me to ask her. She turned me down, told me she already had a date. I was devastated. Went to a party with the team after, got drunk for the first time because I was so upset, and ended up kissing my friend’s older sister, Katie. Made out in the laundry room in the basement for the rest of the night. My friend found us after he realized we both had gone missing and ended up punching me in the face and almost breaking my nose.” 

“Holy shit. That’s a way better story than mine.” You gawked, eyes going wide at the turn Javi’s story had taken. 

“I wouldn’t say way better, just stupid.” Javi huffed, “You do dumb things when you’re young.” 

“Well, you must have been a pretty good kisser even back then if she made out with you for an hour. Honestly, would have been dumb if she didn’t make out with you, in my humble opinion.” You giggled, scooting closer to Javi as you snuggled into his lap, resting your head on his outstretched thigh and letting out a big yawn. Resting his hand on your back, Javi pulled you closer, running his fingers through the sun kissed ends of your messy hair, smiling at all the tell tale signs sleep was beginning to creep through your body and the way you snuggled up next to him. 

“Okay, one last question because all these mojitos are catching up to me and I’m getting sleepy.” You mumbled, feeling your eyelids begin to droop as you curled up in the warmth of his body, comfort flooding over you from Javi’s presence. 

“Okay, hermosa. Your turn.” Javi cooed, his voice softening to match your sleepy tone, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

“If you could change anything about your life, anything you want, what would it be?” 

Javi paused for a moment, his fingers still daintily stroking across your hair and back as he thought. Truthfully, there were plenty of things he wished he could change about his past. It would take him less than a minute to come up with a list longer than most people could muster in a lifetime. He had wasted so many years of his life, bitter and remorseful about the things he had done, condemning himself to suffer the consequences of his actions. And yet, somehow, despite all of the things he could have said, out of all the painful things he wished he could go back in time to change, there was one answer that prevailed above all the rest, an answer that couldn’t have been easier to choose.  

“I wish there was a world where I would have met you sooner. That I would have gotten to love you just a little longer.” 

He waited for your response, settling into the silence until it was broken by one of your soft snores humming against his thigh, signaling to him you were sound asleep in his lap, not having heard a word you said. He laughed softly to himself, remembering the first night he had stayed at your apartment, and how it had ended just like this, conversation flowing until the early hours of the morning until you couldn’t fight sleep any longer, eyelids shutting as you fell asleep in his arms. How he watched you gently drift to dreaming, wondering if he was, too. That somehow, some way, the world had managed to bring the two of you together. And even if he wished he would have gotten more time to love you before you’d met, Javi knew that he’d be forever grateful for every minute he had left with you. 

Despite the raging hangover the two of you had the next morning after you woke up from your alcohol and pizza induced coma, the rest of your honeymoon had been some of the most fun that the two of you had had in years. You’d spent multiple days at the pool, soaking up sun on the beach and swimming in the ocean, eaten so much delicious food you were convinced you were going to combust, drank more mojitos than you’d like to admit, and had even gone snorkeling on a tour through some of the islands outside your resort. 

You also had been having so much sex, you were starting to feel bad for the rooms on either side of you. 

Everything about your honeymoon had been everything you’d ever hoped for and more, but with only one full day left of your vacation, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad that your perfect trip to tropical paradise was coming to a close. 

“What’s that look for, porbrecita?” Javi laughed, sneaking up behind you on the edge of the balcony, watching you watch the sunrise with your cheeks propped up in your palms, pouting at the way bright pinks and oranges were greeting the sky. Standing behind you, he snaked his arms around your front so he could bring your back to his chest, kissing the top of your head while his arms settled around your middle. 

“I don’t want our honeymoon to end.” You sighed, craning your neck just enough to look at Javi over your shoulder, “I’m sad it’s gonna be over.” 

“I know, mi amor, me too.” He softly chuckled, planting a long kiss on your cheek, the whiskers of his mustache making you giggle, “But what if I told you I have one more surprise for us before we go home tomorrow?” 

This made you swing all the way around, now chest to chest with Javi as you looked up at him in confusion, “What? I thought we were spending our last day on the beach just hanging out?” 

“Well we are, but what if I told you I rented one of those fancy cabanas at the end of the beach for us to use to celebrate our last day here?” Javi smirked, watching your face light up at his proposition. 

“Wait, actually?” 

“Yes, actually.” 

“But aren’t they like, super expensive to rent for the day?” 

“I mean… they’re not that expensive.” 

“Okay, the pause tells me that you spent way more money than you needed to on this, Jav.” 

“And what if it was? I’m not allowed to wanna spoil my wife on our honeymoon?” Javi grinned, gently cupping your face and playfully shaking it, making you laugh again. 

“Your wife doesn’t need to be spoiled, just getting to be here with you is more than enough.” You paused, giving Javi a little nudge as he dramatically rolled his eyes at you, chuckling to himself, “What, you goof?” 

“I hope you know that because you’re my wife, I’m planning on spending the rest of my life spoiling you, whether you like it or not. I’d give you the fucking moon if I could, Osita.” 

“Well lucky for you, a day at a beach cabana will do just fine.” 

While you never would have asked Javi to purposely spend extra money on things you really didn’t need to make your trip any more special than it already was, you couldn’t deny that spending the day in your own private cove of the beach in a luxurious cabana with food and drinks being served to you at your request wasn’t a bad way to spend the last day of your honeymoon. 

The daybeds in the cabana had made a perfect place for a shady, mid day nap for the both of you, lazily waking up from the soft kiss Javi had planted on your shoulder, exposed from your bikini top, freckled and sunkissed from days in the tropics. 

“I’m gonna go for a swim, Hermosa. Be back in a sec.” Javi cooed, gently stirring you from your catnap. 

“Mmmmmmkay.” You smiled, flipping over for another kiss on the lips before Javi slipped out from the flaps of your tent, softly blowing in the breeze. You sat up on your lounger, the sight of Javi in nothing but his bathing suit waking you from your brief sleep in a matter of moments. 

Even though you had seen Javi in nothing but bathing suits for the past 9 days, you were convinced it was a sight you’d never find yourself getting over. There was no doubt that you had always found him incredibly attractive, but something about this trip had skyrocketed him to another level of sexy you didn’t even know was attainable. You weren’t sure if it was the unbuttoned floral shirts, excessive time spent shirtless, his messy and wet beach hair, or just the fact that now you got to call him your husband- truthfully, it was most likely a combination of all of the above. 

You perked up, pulling back the fabric door of the cabana enough to watch Javi’s arms stroke through the ocean, popping his head above water with a brief shake before he was shallow enough to touch the sandy bottom again. As he sauntered in from the ocean, you couldn’t help but admire the width of his shoulders and chest, glistening from the sun and salty water. You let your gaze travel down to his swim trunks, feeling your mouth water at the way they hugged his waist and crept up his thick thighs. With each step closer to shore, you couldn’t stop staring at the way his trunks were clinging to his lower half, perfectly outlining his generous length. 

Javi must have noticed the way you were staring at him by the subtle smirk that had broken out across his face as he approached the cabana, eyeing you up and down right back. 

“You have a good swim?” You asked, feeling your stomach swirl as you took in every inch of him, glowing in the sunlight. 

“Mhmm. Did you have fun watching me swim?” He teased, tongue tracing over his teeth while he raised his eyebrows, knowing damn well the effect he was having on you. 

“Maybe. What, I’m not allowed to enjoy the view? Not my fault my husband is so handsome.” Your smirk was almost as wide as his, biting down on your bottom lip as Javi entered the cabana, letting the flap to the entrance close behind him before caging your body under his on the lounge chair, trailing hot, wet, kisses across your chest and stomach. 

“Say it again.” He mewled, looking up at you with his big, brown eyes as his kisses trailed lower and lower, watching as he began to settle himself at the edge of the chair between your thighs. 

“My husband is so handsome. You’re so handsome, Javi.” You sighed, feeling the damp patch in your swimsuit bottoms growing, soaking the fabric with your slick and arousal. 

“You’re so fucking good to me. Fuck, I’m so lucky.” He groaned, slinging your thighs over his shoulders, eyes still locked on you while he began to tug at the strings of your bikini, leaving your bottom half bare. 

There was a part of you that knew you should be worried about someone catching the two of you, barely concealed by the flimsy confines of your cabana, but the part of you staring at your husband between your legs about to eat you out seemed a lot more convinced that this was the best idea Javi had all day. 

“You’re so fucking perfect. Everything about you. I’m the goddamn luckiest man alive, you know that baby?” 

Your response to his question was nothing but a ragged moan, feeling him draping his arm over your hips to hold you in place as he slid two fingers into your heat. He curled his hand to reach the spot inside you he knew made you crumble before diving back in between your legs, beginning to lick you up like a man starved.

His tongue swirled against your clit, the firmness of each stroke and the deep press of his fingers making you writhe under his touch, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his damp, curly locks to brace yourself as he ate you out relentlessly.

“Oh my god, fuck, Javi. Fuck, you feel so good. Fuck-” 

You could feel him switching tactics, latching his lips around your sensitive nub, rapidly sucking at the throbbing bundle of nerves, working his fingers deeper in your cunt as he felt you begin to clench around him. 

“Fuck Javi, fuck, right there baby- fuck, I’m close.” Your fingers were buried so deep in his curls, tugging just enough to pull his face closer to you as you could feel your orgasm building at the base of your spine, desperate for him to give you your sweet release. 

His thick fingers bumped along your g-spot, curving them ever so slightly in the way he had memorized like the back of his hand to make you come undone. The tingle along your spine quickly spread down your legs, pleasure building rapidly throughout your body as you felt yourself on the edge of release. Lifting his arm off your waist, he reached up to grab your hand laying out on the lounge chair, engulfing it in his grasp as he intertwined his fingers with yours. 

“Dameló, (give it to me) sweet girl. Let go, baby, I’ve got you.” 

You could feel the pressure inside you snap, the tingling in your veins quickly transforming into full blown pleasure as your orgasm swept through you. You gushed around his hand, cunt clenching down on his fingers as you came, losing all sense of inhibitions as you cried out with a volume much louder than intended. 

But with Javi’s fingers still curled, prodding against your g-spot, you had a feeling those cries weren’t coming to a halt any time soon. It was only moments after your orgasm had finished he was already on a mission to give you another, tongue lapping up every ounce of your slick as it pressed against your clit. 

“Javi, holy shit, baby, oh fuck.” You whined, bucking your hips towards his face and arching your back as he circled around your bundle of nerves, your moans and whimpers only egging him on more. 

Even after all this time, there was a part of you that still couldn’t believe how fast Javi could make you cum. He had memorized every twitch, every tug of his hair, every breathy whisper to know what made you fall apart under his touch, loving every second of watching you come undone for him. 

You could already feel the tingling of your next orgasm beginning to creep up your legs and into your stomach as Javi sucked at your clit, greedy for him to help you hit your second high. 

“Please don’t stop, Javi. Fuck baby, fuck, fuck, I- ahhhhhhhhh.” That was all it took before you could feel the waves of pleasure rushing through your body again, your pussy throbbing as your orgasm flooded over you. 

Your legs were all but jello at this point, trembling around Javi’s head, still buried between them. Your last two orgasms had been so intense, you weren’t sure you could take a third, but with the way Javi knew your body, you also were convinced it would barely take anything for you to cum again. 

“J-Javi- fuck, baby, fuck I can’t-”   

“Gimme one more, Osita. C’mon, sweet girl. Wanna make my wife cum one more time.” You nodded, looking down at the shine of your arousal covering his smirk, knowing that at this point, you were so worked up and overstimulated that just the fingers already inside of you really were all you needed to give him your last orgasm. 

Javi’s fingers had already sunk so deep into your cunt, already so overly sensitive to every push and pull of his hand, that the grip you had on his hand had become so tight, you could feel your knuckles turning white. You cried out his name as it fell from your lips, babbling incoherently as the third rush of pleasure crashed over you, gushing onto Javi’s fingers.  

“That’s my good girl. My perfect fucking wife. I love you so much.” Javi carefully pulsed his fingers a few more times as he felt you clench around him, making you hiss as he withdrew his hand now soaked in your slick, bringing the digits to his fingers to suck them clean with a satisfied smirk. 

It was only moments before his sly grin had quickly shifted to full blown panic, you, still too blissed out to wonder why he was scrambling to throw a towel over your bottom half and one to hide the erection under his as he sat himself in the chair next to you. Thank god Javi still at least had an ounce of inhibition left to see the footsteps of the server who had been periodically checking in on you strolling their way through the sand under the edge of the cabana, saving you both from what could have been an incredible amount of embarrassment. 

“Hi, how are you two doing? Anything else I can get for you right now?” Your server asked, peeking his head in through the flaps to see you and Javi trying your best to act as natural as possible. 

“N-no, I’m good. You good, honey? Need anything?” Javi asked, looking over at you as his hand ran over the back of his neck, trying his best not to grimace at the awkward tension stewing between him, you and your poor, unsuspecting server. 

“You know what, I think I’m gonna have another drink.” 

“Alright! Another mojito for you, ma’am?” Your server asked, whipping out his pad of paper to note down your order. 

“No, can you make this next one a Sex on the Beach? That sounds really good.” 

It truly took everything in Javi not to burst out laughing, choking on his own spit at your perfectly timed order, shaking his head at you in a humorous disbelief. 

“Perfect, well I’ll be right back with your drink!” 

“Thank you so much!” 

Once your server had disappeared, you and Javi erupted in hyena like laughter, the combination of your joke and almost fatal timing throwing the two of you into a fit of giggles. 

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?” Javi chuckled, looking over at you as he shook his head. 

“What? It’s our last day, figured we might as well have a little sex on the beach. The drink sounds like it’ll be good, too.” 

Your mid-afternoon flight had made for an easy morning to pack up and soak in the last little bit of your honeymoon. It had given you just enough time to enjoy your favorite breakfast place, and have one more of the best blueberry waffles you’d ever tasted before your last shower (and shower sex) to get ready for your departure home. 

While you were sad your vacation had come to an end, there was no denying that every last bit of your trip was absolutely perfect, and even more so that you got to spend it with the most perfect person you could think of. You were convinced you could have gone anywhere in the world for your honeymoon and you would have felt the same- in the end, it wasn’t the destination that mattered, it was the fact you got to spend it with your husband. 

The fact that you got to spend every vacation together for the rest of your lives only made it that much sweeter. 

While flying would never be enjoyable, you were thankful your trip home was fairly painless, granting Javi’s hand some grace, considering you didn’t feel the need to keep it in an iron grip for the two hours it took you to arrive back home. 

You were also thankful that it was Steve and Connie who had offered to pick you up from the airport instead of Chucho, sparing you and Javi the same sort of awkward embarrassment you had endured on the ride to start off your honeymoon. 

Well, it may not been the same kind of embarrassment that you had experienced with Javi’s dad, but it was foolish of you to think that Steve was letting you get away scott free. 

At least he had managed to get creative with it, making a greeting poster with “Welcome home, lovebirds!” on it to help you find him and Connie in the airport crowd, making Javi let out a sigh loud enough that Steve probably could have heard it from the tarmac. 

“Hey! There they are! Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Peña!” Steve grinned, pulling you and Javi in for a hug as you found him, Connie following suit with a much less dramatic greeting for the both of you afterwards. 

“How was the honeymoon? Did you guys have a great time?” Connie asked, offering to take one of your suitcases, nudging Steve to do the same. “ 

“It was really nice. It was everything we could have hoped for. The resort was beautiful, the food was great, and the weather was fantastic. It really was perfect.” You smiled, looking up at Javi, nodding in agreement, reaching out to wrap his arm over your shoulder. 

“Thanks again for picking us up.” Javi chimed in, the two of you now following along behind your friends as they began leading you through the airport towards their car. 

“Don’t mention it, Jav. Least we could do.” Steve replied, reaching out to give Javi a little punch to the arm. 

“We’re super excited to hear all about your trip!” Connie added, looking back at you and Javi with a genuine grin. 

“Excited to hear if I’m gonna make good on my bet…” Steve muttered, laughing under his breath. 

“Steve! Seriously? You promised in the car you weren’t gonna bring this up!” Connie huffed, giving her husband a slap to the chest, and a grimace that clearly was the silent way to ask “Will you please shut up?” 

“What?! I put good money on it, I’m confident!” 

“Wait, is this the same bet that Javi’s dad was talking about on the way here?” You asked, looking back and forth between Javi, Steve and Connie in confusion, perplexed as to what you and Javi had to do with whatever bet he and the Murphy’s were in on. 

“Go ahead, Steve! Why don’t you explain?” Connie scolded, hands on her hips as she stared down her husband in all his big mouthed glory. 

“You bet on it, too!” Steve retorted, holding his hands up in defense, pointing at Connie to claim her as part of the guilty party to whatever was going on.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Javi asked, trying to cut to the chase of whatever cryptic game they were playing. 

“After y’all left on your wedding night, we- shit, this does sound kinda bad when you say it to their face, huh?” Steve paused, letting out a huff as he turned back to Connie, grimacing in agreement, “Us and your family and your dad made a bet.” 

“A bet on…” You led, waiting for your answer. 

Steve sighed again, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground before looking back up at you and Javi, “A bet on how quick it would take after the wedding until the two of you announced you were pregnant.” 

You didn’t even want to know how red your face was turning, but judging by the sudden pink flush of Javi’s cheeks, you had no doubt you looked exactly the same, if not worse. 

“To be fair, your dad was the one who started it!” Steve exclaimed, pointing at Javi to let him know he wasn’t to blame for his friend’s embarrassment before shifting his finger to point at you, “And your brothers were the one who said we should make it a bet! I just wanted in on it!” 

“Jesus fucking christ.” Javi sighed, face in his palm as he rubbed his temples with the pads of his fingers. 

“I hope now you know we’re not gonna have kids just to spite all of you.” You teased, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilted your head at Steve. It was enough to catch Javi’s attention, eyes going wide that there was even a shred of you being serious, laughing to yourself as you watched the relief flush over him when you shook your head at your own joke. 

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say.” Steve chuckled, his voice oozing with sarcasm, simply shrugging before turning back around to continue your journey to the parking garage. 

Javi took his free hand, intertwining it with yours and giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you trailed behind the Murphy’s soft smile on his face that despite his friends and families bet revolved around your sex life, there was a very real possibility that sooner rather than later, someone was bound to make their fifty bucks. 

“What’d you bet?” Javi asked, feeling entitled to know how Steve had gambled after he’d spilled the beans on his little wager. 

“Well, let’s see, y’all got married at the end of July, so July to August, August to September,” Steve paused, doing the quick math on his fingers as he calculated his answer, “9 months from now would be April, so I’ll be damned if you’re not tellin’ us your havin’ a baby by the fall and it’s here by the spring. And I know for a fact neither of y’all would be mad about that one bit.” 

And as much as you both hated to admit it, it was one of the few things in life that Steve Murphy was very, very right about. 

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[that-sarcastic-writer]

After Hours

DI!SingleDad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You really shouldn't fuck your student's dad. You shouldn't. No matter how hot you think he is. You shouldn't. Right?

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), choking, hair pulling, creampie, soft!dom leon, praising, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, parent teacher dynamic, foul language

WC: 8.2k I am so sorry

A/N: guess who just watched death island and guess who wants to fuck di Leon. Yes, this whore. The things that man does to me. Man definitely gave me girl dad vibes in di so I wrote it lol enjoy the Leon filth

Note: this story was inspired by @konigbabe own dad!leon x teacher fic. Hers is definitely way better than mine and definitely recommend checking it out! (Sorry for not mentioning before it was extremely late last night🙃)

Universe Masterlist

You've been teaching second graders for a very long time, and you've never been more in awe and intrigued by a child at the same time. When you met this little girl you knew she would grow on you. But you didn't think she would be so complicated too. 

"Mhm, and she said— Izzy?" You were standing in your designated area during recess duty, talking to the other second grade teacher when one of your students, Isabella, was dragged to your side along with an older boy by another teacher. 

The boy had a scraped up arm, and Izzy was holding her hands together in front of herself and staring at the ground as the teacher held her by her shirt. You stared in confusion for a second before you looked at the teacher. 

"Ms. Miller, what's going on? Why are you dragging Izzy and who is this boy?" You asked, head tilted with confusion. 

"Is this Isabella Kennedy? She wouldn't answer when I asked her." The older lady asked, shooting the brunette girl a nasty look. You frowned, but nodded slowly, replying with a short yes. She continued. "She pushed one of my kids and he's bleeding. You need to take her to the Principal's office and call her parents right now." 

Your eyes widened in shock and your mouth fell open, baffled. You blinked a couple times in disbelief as you looked at Izzy. This girl was a sweetheart, quiet, but kind, she would never hurt another student. 

"Izzy, come baby, we're gonna go sit in my classroom while I call your daddy, mkay?" You shot Ms. Miller a glare that made her let go of Izzy, and you quietly extended your hand to the girl. She took it, quietly following you. 

Maybe today was the day you would finally meet Isabella Kennedy's father. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took five phone calls, three emails, and a good three hours before anyone came for Izzy. It was well past the end of the school day. You had been sitting outside the Principal's office with Izzy for about an hour when a man, tall, close to six feet tall, with a leather jacket and brown hair that fell over his eyes walked down the hall. He had the same intense blue eyes as Izzy. He had a pretty annoyed look on his face too. 

Leon Kennedy.

"Izzy." He called out when he saw her, his low baritone filling the otherwise quiet hall. The little girl lifted her head, blue eyes instantly lighting up at the sight of her dad. 

She instantly got up from her chair and ran to him. He picked her up without hesitation and a frown plastered on his face when she hid her face on his neck with guilt. 

"I'm sorry daddy." 

"Oh, what's wrong? Why are you sorry?" He asked, rubbing her back soothingly, but before she could bust out into tears, you stepped in. 

"Hi. Hey, uhm. I'm Isabella's teacher. Are you Mr. Kennedy?" You felt stupid for asking, he made you feel even more so when he narrowed his eyes at you with this 'seriously?' look in his eyes. 

"Yeah. What's going on? I saw you left me a million voicemails. Is Izzy alright?" He asked, understandably concerned, instinctively checking his daughter for any injuries or marks. 

"Yes she's alright but uhm.. Something happened earlier and I think it'd be good if we spoke in private before you speak with the principal." You bit your lip, watching as his face scrunched up with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. 

"What— y'know what, alright. Just make it quick please." He sighed, saying something to Izzy that you couldn't quite hear before he set her down on her feet. 

"I'm gonna go talk to your daddy for a minute okay? You can go finish that drawing, yeah?" You said to the little girl with a smile. She rubbed her eye but nodded regardless. 

You led Leon to your classroom. You sat on your desk as he sat on the chair you had left for him in case he did show up. He leaned back, arms folded over his chest and legs spread. That man hadn't even said a word yet and you were already sweating. He was full of self assurance and confidence, like he didn't need to say a word for his presence to be the center of attention. And it made you nervous. 

"So uhm, I called you because Isabella got into some trouble today during recess." You started, leaning your elbows on your desk. His face never changed. He had the same stoic expression. 

Seriously?

"Okay." 

"She pushed a fourth grader on the playground, and the kid scraped up his arm." You finished, hoping that would get some kind of reaction. It did. But not the one you were expecting. 

"Oh. Wow, okay." There was a tiny curve on the corner of his lips. You could swear it looked like a smile. "Is she in trouble or something?" 

"Uhm, yes, of course she's in trouble. Our anti-bullying policy is very strict here Mr. Kennedy. She could get suspended for this." 

He rolled his eyes. The motherfucker rolled his eyes. 

"That's not bullying. The kid probably deserved it." He scoffed softly, leaning further back into the chair. He had his eyebrows furrowed, and he was staring you down, pale blue eyes making you want to crawl into your own skin. "Izzy isn't the type to just hurt someone. She's a good kid. Did you even ask why she did it? 

"Well uhm.. Yes, she said the fourth grade boy was bothering her and her friend, he shoved her friend so Izzy, uh, shoved him back, much harder." You cleared your throat, knowing your answer wasn't any better. You didn't want Izzy to get in trouble, but you had to do your job.

"Are you serious?" He had this blank expression on his face, and when you nodded, he gave you a laugh that was this mixture between pride and irritation. "This is ridiculous. A nine year-old boy bullies my seven year-old daughter and her friend, but my daughter is the one that gets in trouble for standing up for herself?" 

You stared at him, lips parted as you tried to come up with an answer. You ran your tongue over your dry lips, no answer actually coming out. He scoffed. 

"Was that all then? This conversation could've been a phone call." He sat up, seemingly getting ready to stand up. You shook your head. 

"No, Mr. Kennedy. There's something else I wanted to discuss with you." 

"It's just Leon, please. I'm not that old." He chuckled, leaning back into the seat. 

Your eyes fell to his chest, slightly exposed by the undone buttons of his shirt. Your words were lost for a second as you imagined what it would be like to see under that shirt, to feel— No. That's inappropriate. Focus. 

"Uhm, I understand you must be busy with your job, Izzy talks about it all the time but I think she would benefit from more involvement from a parent in her academics and activities." You started, leaning forward on your arms. 

"Meaning what? I'm involved plenty." 

"I'm sorry but, I've had your daughter for a semester and a half, and this is the first time I've met you. We've had two parent-teachers conferences so far. I never saw you there. She performed at the winter concert, I don't recall seeing you there either." You explained with a small frown, remembering all the times you had to cheer her up because she was upset about her dad not being there for a school event. "All I'm saying is that if your job doesn't allow it, maybe Izzy's mom can—" 

"No, not an option. It's just me." He cut you off quickly, sitting up quickly as his shoulders tensed. 

You weren't a behavior analyst, but knew that tone. That defensiveness and resentment at the same time, you had seen it time and time again from single parents. It explained a lot. 

"Then she really needs you. You're the only support she has. So be there for your daughter."

"I am. It's just that my job—" 

"With all due respect, your job is not more important than your daughter. Listen, the spring concert is in two weeks. She's performing there with a few other girls. I just ask that you be there for her. Trust me it will do her good. And knowing her dad is there for her will stop her from acting out like this again." 

Leon bit his lip in thought, you could see the gears turning in his head, the way he tapped his index finger on his bicep in thought, but he ultimately sighed. 

"An elementary school concert, is that really necessary? Can't I just take you to dinner instead and we can call it even?" He said it so smoothly you didn't realize his flirtation at first. It took a second for your brain to register he was flirting with you and the tiny smirk on his face made heat rush to your face in an instant. 

"Mr. Kennedy, that is not appropriate." You tried hiding your embarrassment behind a soft laugh, but the way you avoided his eyes said enough. 

"I told you, it's Leon." He corrected you again, grin still on his face, "Alright fine, I'll see what I can do. Can I take Izzy home now?" 

"Yes. I'll email you the RSVP." You finally met his eyes with a small smile of your own as you waved your hand, signaling that he could leave. He nodded, standing up, but before he left you added, "And please look at your emails this time." 

He flashed you a small smile, "Sure Miss." 

~~~~~~~~~~

"Aw Izzy, you look so pretty. Did your daddy help you get ready?" You asked the little girl, her hair neatly pulled back into a bun, glitter scattered on her hair and blue sparkly eyeshadow matched the shades of blue in her outfit. She looked like a princess. 

"Nooo. Daddy doesn't know how to do makeup. Aunt Claire did." She said excitedly and smiled with glee.

Huh, that must be the woman that sometimes picked her up. For the longest time you thought it was her mom. But not after Leon had told you about her mom not being in the picture. Still, you thought maybe you'd get more out of her than her dad. 

"Oh she did a really good job!" You smiled at her as you stood with her, waiting for her turn to perform. "Is your daddy coming?" 

"Yes. He said he would." Good. 

"And your mommy? Is she coming too?" You squinted an eye, knowing you probably shouldn't push your luck, but kids usually never lied, and you wanted to know for sure.

"Oh, I don't have a mommy. Just daddy and Aunt Claire. Oh and Uncle Chris. But he's not around much." She said it so blankly it reminded you of her dad. 

It made your heart sink, to think her mom had abandoned her. Which you had the feeling was the case based on the defensive and almost resentful way Leon spoke about it when you met. But somehow it didn't seem to bother Izzy. 

"Well I'm sure your daddy will love to see you perform tonight. It's almost your turn, go find the other girls, I'll be right here." 

She gave you an eager nod and a smile as she ran to her friends, their names getting introduced by the principal a minute later. You stayed in a corner mostly out of sight, but enough where you could see the stage. At one point, you looked towards the far end of the gym, at the top of the stairs. You saw a familiar leather jacket, the man leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest as he watched the stage. You couldn't really see from your distance, but you had a feeling he was smiling. But you were definitely smiling when his eyes found yours. 

"Oh my God you did so good! I can't believe you learned that in a few months!" You said to Izzy, her tiny hand in yours as you walked her through the gym to find Leon.

As you walked out to the hallway, you caught a couple moms whispering not so quietly about the unknown man in a leather jacket that was standing by himself and it almost made you laugh. 

"Hey, is Isabella's dad here? I see she's still attached to your hip." Your friend, Emily walked your way, eyeing the little girl, then you. You raised an eyebrow at her, knowing she just wanted to see who was the mysterious hot single dad she kept hearing about. 

"Mmmm, yeah he's here. He's—" You looked around for a bit, quickly spotting him by himself. You smiled to yourself when your eyes met. "Izzy, your daddy is over there, go. I'll be there in a sec." 

She nodded and ran to her dad. She jumped as soon as she was in front of him and he lifted her in his arms in a heartbeat. You heard her giggles as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he sat her on his hip, hugging her. 

"He's hot. Like really hot." Emily spoke, making you look at her. Your eyes widened and you snorted quietly. "What? He is. He totally gives biker vibes. I wonder if he has a motorcycle. You should ask him to take you on a ride sometime." 

"Emily." You scolded her with a laugh. 

"I'm serious! You should go out with him. Or I will." 

"I'm leaving now, I don't not want to get written up for sexual harassment of a parent. Goodbye Ms. Robinson." You laughed, waving your hand at her dismissively as you walked towards Leon and Izzy. So you could say goodbye to Izzy. Or so you told yourself. 

"Miss! Look what my daddy gave me." Izzy showed you a beautiful white carnation. 

You smiled in awe, both at the flower but also at the sweet gesture. Leon definitely didn't seem the type to give gifts. Maybe you were wrong. 

"Oh wow, that's such a pretty flower! It's almost as pretty as you Izzy. But you're prettier." You giggled with the little girl, who nuzzled further into Leon's chest in a fit of giggles. He thought you weren't looking, but you definitely caught the tiny smile on his face. 

"But you're prettier, Miss! At school we call her Miss Pretty. Cause she's really pretty all the time, right daddy? You were saying that Miss looked really pretty the other day." Izzy lifted her head to look at her dad with her big blue eyes. 

His own eyes grew a bit and a dust of pink covered his otherwise pale face. 

"Isabella." Leon said her name sternly, but the girl just giggled even more. He rolled his eyes and looked at you, a tiny grin on his lips and that same air of confidence that never seemed to falter, even if he was embarrassed. "Okay, say bye to your friends so we can go home. And say bye to Miss Pretty." 

Now it was your turn to be fluttered. 

"Okay. Bye Miss, I'll see you on Monday!" Izzy hugged your waist as soon as Leon put her on her feet. You smiled, crouching down to embrace her properly. 

"I'll see you on Monday Izzy." You smiled, watching as she took off to find her friends. You stood up slowly, eyes meeting with Leon's. "I'm glad you came. She was really happy." 

"Mhmm, I'm glad I came too." His eyes lingered on you. 

God, you were pretty. He took in the way your hair was done differently, maybe for the occasion. Your makeup was different too, nothing too glamorous, but some shimmer on your eyelids and a lipstick that matched. And your dress, it suited you perfectly. But he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't prefer to see it on his floor instead. 

"And thank you for talking your way out of her suspension. She's a good kid, I wouldn't want something like that on her file."

"Of course. I adore Izzy, and I've seen first hand she's a sweet kid. Off the record, I didn't want her to get suspended for standing up for herself. You taught her well." You smiled, trying to ignore the blood rushing to your face. 

"Yeah well, I try."

"But I hope this isn't a one time thing though. It'd be good for Izzy if you came around more often." You bit your lip softly, feeling his deep gaze burn into your skin. He nodded, leaning ever so slightly closer. Nothing any prying eyes would notice, but you definitely did. 

"I'll be around, but in the meantime," He bit his lip, eyes darting around for a second before he leaned down to your ear for a split second, saying, "Dinner is still on the table." 

"Mr—" 

"I swear to God if you call me Mr. Kennedy one more time." 

You leaned back, a smile threatening to pull around your lips. And you nodded, digging into your purse for a second before you pulled out a piece of paper and shoved it into his palm. 

"I'll be seeing you around, Leon." 

He watched you as you walked with a smile on your face. He furrowed his eyebrows curiously but it quickly turned into a grin when he saw what you had written on the post-it note. 

Juat say when. I actually answer my phone. —Miss

"Fuck me." He sighed quietly to himself, shaking his head as he shoved the piece of paper into his pocket and rubbed a hand over his freshly trimmed jaw before calling Izzy. "Izzy, c'mon." 

"You, you evil child are in so much trouble," he chuckled, taking his daughter's hand in his, "You can't be telling daddy's secrets like that, bee. You're gonna get me in trouble." 

"But she's really pretty! And nice. And she makes really good brownies. I like her a lot." She giggled, looking up at Leon with a smile that reminded him that not everything in this world was pain and misery. "You should take her on a date!"

"I asked if she wanted to, actually." 

"Oh my God really? Did she say yes?" 

Leon looked at his little girl with narrowed eyes and smiled, "Since when are you so nosy? Hmph." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn't think Leon would be the chivalrous type to come pick you at your door for your date. But there he was, leaning on his Jeep Wrangler as he waited for you to come down. And when you did, fuck, it made him want to take you right then and there. 

"Woah… You look.." He blew out a small breath and his lips curved up. You nodded, biting your lip softly. 

"Thank you. You look good too." 

"So uh, is Italian alright? I know a really good place downtown." 

The food was great, amazing even, but this, oh this was better than any fancy restaurant. Leon pressed your back against the door, his own body pressing you further into it, preventing from moving. Not that you wanted to. He had one of your wrists pinned above your head as he kissed you, tongue slipping into your mouth to savor the faint wine you had earlier. He used his other hand to hoist you up around his waist, a moan slipping past your throat when his belt brushed against your clothed clit. 

You swore you never had sex on the first date. But for Leon you would be the biggest whore if that’s what he wanted. 

“Mmm Leon,” You panted softly, he hummed as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses. “Izzy. Is she—”

“Not here. She’s at my friend’s for the night.” He answered in between kisses.

“You have a friend that watches your kid while you get laid? Aren’t you lucky?”

“Can we not talk about my babysitting arraignments right now?" He muttered out in between kisses, his breath hot against your skin. 

A soft giggle fell past your lips and you nodded, grabbing the back of his head to kiss his lips again. A satisfied hum rumbled in his throat as he moved his lips with yours, keeping one hand on your ass and the other found the back of your neck as he moved you off the door. He was walking, somewhere, you assumed his bedroom. He parted from your lips to half watch where he was going and you took that opportunity to drag your lips along his jaw. You could tell he hadn't shaved in a few days, but you liked the tingle it gave.  

Leon let out a breathy hum at the feeling of your lips roaming freely along his skin. He bit his lips softly as he fumbled with the doorknob, he eventually got it open. He didn't bother closing it and his feet took him straight to his bed. 

He grabbed the back of your head and pressed another hard kiss to your lips before your back hit his bed. Soft duvets pooled around you as he laid you down, pulling your bottom lip with him as he moved back. 

"Fuck, I knew you'd look so pretty on my bed." He breathed out as he watched you, hair pooling around your head, and makeup already a mess. 

You gave him a shy smile as you sat up on your elbows. His eyes stayed on you as he sunk his weight on one knee, a knee he placed right in between your thighs. And his eyes never left you as he slowly undid the buttons of his navy blue dress shirt. His leather jacket was long gone by the time you had stepped foot inside his apartment.

You watched him with big eyes as he shrugged off the piece of clothing, leaving his muscular chest of full display. And fuck, if he looked huge under layers of clothing, he looked massive now. Your eyes took him all in, an arrangement of scars covered his otherwise pale skin. Scars and all, he was still the most attractive man you had ever met. 

"You look so pretty when you look at me like that." He chuckled softly, his fingers coming up under your chin to make you look up at him, clearly noticing the way you were staring at him, with those eyes and your lips parted.

"You think I'm pretty? Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?" You responded without thinking, the words coming out with a breath. 

A smile formed on his lips and he shook his head, watching with amusement as your shaky hands touched his belt. You ran your tongue over your lips as you unbuckled his belt with shaky hands. Leon watched you carefully, his breath picking up when your fingers itched closer to his cock as it strained against his boxer briefs. But when you sat up fully, about to move your knees he grabbed your hands, making you stop. Your eyes shot up to his face with alarm, afraid you had made him uncomfortable. 

"Next time baby," He said with restraint. It wasn't that he didn't want to feel your mouth around him. He'd kill for that. But he could be selfish another time. "Lemme take care of you tonight, yeah?" 

You breathed out shakily, the panic leaving you as soon as the words left his mouth, and a pool of arousal replaced your uneasiness. You nodded. 

"Yeah, okay." 

He gave you a smile that made you ache and he gestured to you to lie down. 

"Lay down for me." He coaxed with a voice so smooth it almost made you whine. He eased a hand up your bare thighs as you did as he told you. 

Your back touched his soft covers again as you took in a sharp breath. You closed your eyes in anticipation as you heard him move around for a second. You gasped when you felt him drag you to the end of the bed by your ankle. You lifted your head and fuck, you could've come right there and there at the sight of Leon, on his knees, with his head between your legs. 

"Leon.." You whined almost desperately, the ache between your legs starting to become unbearable. 

A soft smirk tugged at his lips at the whine of his name and he lifted his head to look at you with feign innocence. 

"What's that pretty girl?" He sneaked a hand under your dress, his thumb barely grazing your clit through your panties. You twitched, a sharp gasp leaving your lips. 

"Please." A weak plea was all you could say. 

"What? Want my mouth on you? Want me to finger you open? Make you come all over my tongue?" He spoke with arrogance, with that same arrogance he always fucking wore. And you hated just how much it turned you on. 

"Yes! Yes! Yes, just please, touch me." You were so pathetic but you didn't care. 

"Oh trust me baby, I'm gonna do so much more than just touch you. You think you can handle me?" He tugged down your panties with such ease and so casually you didn't even realize he did, you were more focused on his question. 

"I… Yes I— Of course I can handle you." 

Leon chuckled at how fast you responded to his question and he bit his bottom lip as he scrunched up your dress up to your hips with his free hand, his eyes lingering on your cunt for a second before he met your gaze again. 

"Tap me twice if it's too much, yeah? A sweet elementary teacher like yourself might not be used to.. Well, me." 

You scrunched up your face a bit at his comment, shooting him a glare that made him chuckle. 

"I won't break Leon." 

A malicious smirk fell on his lips, "That's the point." 

He didn't give you time to reply with another witty remark when he decided he was done talking. He sunk his head between your thighs and his tongue dragged along your clit without a warning. You jolted with a shudder, a loud gasp leaving your lips when you felt his mouth on your already sensitive clit. 

"Oh my—" Your mouth fell open, your eyes slightly fluttering as he circled his tongue over your clit. "Oooh fuck." 

Your head fell back against the mattress as he continued to work you with his tongue. He drew circles around your clit before he moved down to your wet entrance then back up to your clit. Over and over until you were writhing on the bed. 

"Shit— Leon—!" The sound that left your mouth was pathetic, a mixture between a cry and a whimper when he slipped two of his long fingers into you. 

He groaned against you, lapping at your pussy as he slid his fingers in and out with ease. And you couldn't help the way you were grinding back against his face. It had been a long fucking time since a guy had even bothered to eat you out, let alone like this. He didn't mind it, but the way you kept sliding up the bed every time he curled up his fingers against that one spot was annoying him. With his free hand he grabbed your hip with a tight grip and slid your body back down, holding you against his face. And he held you there, with his fingers deep inside your pussy, his mouth lapping at your clit and both of your legs thrown over his shoulders. You had nowhere to go and he was more than pleased about that. 

"Fuck fuck— Shit Leon please—" You eyes were rolled into the back of your head, head thrown back as you writhed against his face. "Please— I'm so close please, please don't stop." 

Fuck, you sounded so pretty when you pleaded to him like that. He could feel his cock strain harder against his pants just at the sound. He hummed, closing his lips around your clit and suckled. You didn't mean to, but your hand fell to the back of his hair and you pulled. And my God you pulled hard. 

Leon growled at the feeling of your fingers tangling and tugging at his hair. The vibrations made you whine and you did it again. But this time he pulled back enough to speak. 

"Pull my hair one more time, I swear to God." He grunted the words. But he wasn't angry. God, he wasn't angry in the slightest. But he knew he only had so much self control left in his body.

You didn't reply, you simply loosened your grip on his honey brown strands, but you kept your hand on the back of his head and his lips found your clit again. And you did your best to not latch on to his hair again, but fuck it was so hard when his fingers hit so deep and his tongue felt so good. You were so fucking close, you couldn't help it. 

"Mhmm yeah that's it, I know you wanna come. Yeah, you wanna come don't you sweet girl?" He grunted, spitting on your clit as he scissored you open, the palm of his hand rutting against your clit. "I know you do, c'mon, come for me." 

When you felt his tongue on your clit again you couldn't help it. Your mouth fell wide open as your heels dug into his shoulders. Your eyes were squeezed shut as your mind went blank and you couldn't help yourself, your fingers dug so deep into his hair as you held his face against you he actually grunted in pain. 

But he didn't stop, he lapped at your juices as you convulsed under him, the lewd sound of his palm against your wet cunt shooting straight to his cock. 

He didn't stop sucking at your clit until you were twitching with aftershock and you were weakly pulling his head back by the ends of his hair. Only then his fingers left you and he was pulling back. He watched you through narrowed eyes as you panted, your hands now on your face as you tried to come back down to earth. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he rose his feet. 

He fumbled with his pants as he climbed on the bed and before you even realized it, he grabbed you, hands under your armpits to drag you up the bed. You stammered at the sudden manhandling. 

"Leon—" He didn't even let you finish before he was flipping you on your stomach, his bare back pressing you down on the mattress. 

"What did I say about pulling my hair, hm?" He breathed out into your ear, harshly tugging down his boxer briefs enough to pull out his cock. 

"I— I'm sorry—" You gasped as he not to gently unzipped your dress and pulled it over your head. 

He didn't let you sit up though. With a large hand in between your shoulders, he sat up enough to sit back on his knees, his cock in his hand as he pumped himself a few times. 

"No you're not." He sighed out, eyes closing for a split second as he dragged his cock between your wet folds. He heard you whine against his pillows, but you made no effort to move from where he held you. "Move that pretty little ass of yours up here. Need you to stay down though." 

With a soft whimper, you stuck your ass up in the air, meeting his hips. His eyes fell on your ass, lips slightly parted he slowly sank himself into you. He watched as his cock disappeared inside your tight walls until only a little bit of him was left. But he didn't want to push you too hard, you couldn't fit all of him. 

Leon sat still for what felt like years, but in reality it was merely a minute or so. His eyes were closed as he dragged a hand up and down your back, easing you until he knew he could move. It took you some time to adjust to his size, your eyes were squeezed shut as you fists clenched his sheets. But it wasn't long before you were begging him to fuck you. 

"Leon— Please. Need you to fuck me, please." You muttered into the sheets as you turned your head to the side so that your cheek was pressed into the mattress. 

"Mhmmm, 'course you do." Fuck, he was going to ruin you. 

He dragged his cock out slowly, slow enough for you to feel every inch of him, until you were nothing but pathetic noises. He was almost all the way out when he slammed in again, making your body slide up the mattress. He did the same again, and again, fucking your body into the mattress like no one you had ever been with before. This man was going to be the death of you. Your student's dad. There were so many things wrong with what you were doing, but fuck, you couldn't list a single one of those things that could ever top this. 

You were brought back to this reality by the feeling of his lips dragging up your bare spine. You felt a cold shudder run through your whole body as he leaned over you, his bare back pressed against yours and his hips rutting against your ass, so much so you could feel the rough material of his pants brush against your ass and the sound of his belt rattling with each snap of his hips. But that only made it better. To think he was so eager to fuck you he couldn't be bothered to take his pants off. That idea alone made you see white.

With your mind on a different planet entirely, you didn't realize the grip he had on your hair. Until you felt him pull your head back by your hair. His fingers were tangled to the root as he pressed his lips to your ear. 

"You like how that feels, hm?" You had a feeling his question was rhetorical, that you weren't supposed to enjoy the forcefulness of his actions, because he was clearly punishing you for what you did earlier. But you would be lying if you said it didn't make you even wetter. He definitely felt the way you clenched around him and he laughed. "Oh? So you do huh? Pretty Miss Teacher likes it when I'm rough with her?" 

You were nodding against his grip, as best as you could anyway, a soft cry being a pretty good sign that you did, indeed liked it. You should be ashamed of how much you wanted this man to ruin you, to use you as he pleased. But the way he was buried deep inside your cunt felt way too good to feel any shame. 

"Yes! Yes, please be rough with me." You managed to choke out. You heard the groan that rumbled in his chest at your words. 

Leon was flipping you on your back and slamming back into you before you even had time to protest. You instantly wrapped your legs around his torso as he resumed his pace, only that this time, his hips snapped much harshly with each thrust he gave you. His lips found your neck as one of his hands rested on the column of your neck, he didn't squeeze or touch your throat, he simply held you down as he fucked you into the mattress. 

His fingers twitched, the urge to wrap them around your throat making his cock throb, but he otherwise decided against it, not wanting to push you too hard on your first night together. So to avoid giving in to his urges he itched to move his hand beside your head instead. You felt his hand leave your neck and something deep within your core didn't want him to, so your hand flew to catch his wrist. 

"Choke me." You blurted out, so heated that you didn't even think of how embarrassed you normally would be to ask such a thing. 

Leon lifted his head enough to look at your face, his lips parted as he panted softly, strands of his hair falling over his eyes but he could see you clearly. He heard you loud and clear, too. 

"Shit baby," He groaned out, lips crashing against yours in a messy kiss before he returned his hand to your neck, but this time, he actually wrapped his fingers around your throat. "You're gonna be the fucking death of me. Such a pretty thing, sweet to everyone, with those pretty dresses of yours and that beautiful smile of yours. And you're asking me to choke you. Fuck." 

He squeezed ever so slightly, just enough to make you feel a bit dizzy, but in the best way possible. You were so close, you could feel the burning ache in the pit of your stomach, and with the way his cock hit your most sensitive spot with every thrust, you knew you wouldn't last long. 

"Ah— Shit— Leon—" Your sounds were choked out, barely audible, but he heard the way you were begging, the way you said his name, it drove him fucking insane. "I wanna—" 

"Mhmm, I know baby. You wanna come all over my cock, hm? Yeah you do," He dug his teeth into his already red lip as he sneaked his free hand in between your bodies and began rubbing harsh circles around your clit, making your hips jerk. "Yeah that's it— Fuck, atta girl. Lemme feel you fall apart for me." 

He didn't even have to tell you, you were seeing white the second his thumb touched your clit. You dug your nails into his skin, surely leaving a few marks to find in the morning. But he couldn't care less. He couldn't help but moan at the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock. He held you down to the mattress as he drilled into you, his own release not too far now. 

"Yeah— yeah that's it. Good girl. You're such a good girl." He dragged through pants, his fingers squeezing your throat tightly. "Fuck— Fuck I'm gonna— Shit." 

He was about to pull himself out, so as to not finish inside you, but you held him tight, legs securely wrapped around his torso. He looked you through half lidded eyes as you nodded at him. 

"Please." You couldn't say much, with his hand on your throat and all, but he understood what you meant and the idea of you letting him come inside you made him lose the little control he still had left. 

"Oh fuck— fuck that's a good girl— Ah—" His head fell to your neck as he cradled your head with the hand not your neck and he squeezed his eyes shut as he fell still, holding you down on his cock as he came with a throaty moan. "Mhmmm. Just like that. Take it just like that." 

His hand slowly released your throat, and you gasped softly as your head spun with adrenaline. Your eyes fluttered shut as you held him, arms lazily thrown over his shoulders as your fingers lightly threaded his hair. You felt his breath hot on your neck as he panted. Your own breathing was as hard and fast as his for a minute or so. But he didn't mind holding until you both calmed down. It was a while before you felt him move, probably when he got tired of holding his weight. He left a kiss on your jaw before he moved to lay on his back beside you. 

Leon turned his head to look at you and he couldn't help but smile to himself, face glistening with sweat, makeup absolutely ruined and hair tousled and pooled around your head. And even like that you were still the prettiest thing he had ever laid eyes on. 

"I wasn't too rough on you, was I?" He asked quietly, knowing he sometimes could be a bot too much.

You turned your head to look at him, and you found those pale blue eyes staring at you with concern, you gave him a tired smile. 

"Of course not. I… I liked it. I don't think anyone's ever made me come like that before." You admitted with a dry laugh. His eyebrows shot up a bit with surprise, but that surprise quickly turned into pride. 

"Well, I do like to be the exception." 

"Oh shut up." You playfully smacked his arm and he chuckled. 

You couldn't help but smile, but your expression fell a bit when you thought he probably would want you to go home. That's usually how that was, right? I mean he had a daughter, he probably didn't want his daughter's teacher— who he had just fucked senseless, to stay the night. Right? Probably not. You sighed softly as you moved your hair away from your face and sat up. You missed the confused look Leon gave you. 

"You leaving or something?" He asked with furrowed eyebrows as he sat up, watching the way you were reaching over the edge of the bed to grab your dress from the floor. But you quickly sat back to look at him, also confused. 

"I mean… I'm supposed to, right?" 

Leon scrunched up his face with confusion and slightly tilted his head, "You're supposed to?" 

"Well. Uh… Yeah. I mean, Izzy—" He cut you off right then and there. 

"Hey no, it isn't like that. I don't… I don't do that." You frowned at him, confused by what he meant. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, getting the strands out of his face. "I wasn't going to fuck you then ask you to leave. I'm not like that. It's late, and I drove you. Izzy isn't coming home tonight. You can stay. If you want of course, if not I can drive you home, I just—" 

Now it was your turn to cut him off. He gasped in surprise when you crashed your lips against his. His lips curved up into a smile as he held your face. He kissed you much softly now. 

"I wouldn't mind staying." You finally said, smiling against his lips. 

"I wouldn't mind either." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't exactly sure when, but you had fallen asleep, with Leon's arms wrapped around you as he held you to his chest. But rays of sunlight were hitting your face now as they slipped through the open curtains he probably forgot to close the night prior. You scrunched up your nose, squinting your eyes as you pressed your face further into the pillow. But it was too late now, you were awake and there was no way to fall back asleep. As much as you would love to just cuddle up to Leon and sleep some more. Speaking of, as you peeled your eyes open you saw him, still sleeping peacefully next to you. 

He laid on his stomach, the covers pooled around his waist as his face was buried deep into his pillow. His honey brown hair was tousled from sleep and from your doing the night prior, and loose strands hung over the side of his face. God, he looked absolutely gorgeous. You really should've felt guilty for sleeping with one of your classroom parents. But when you woke up to a sight like that? You regretted nothing. 

You debated on staying in bed with him, at least until he woke up and decided to take you home, but you really needed a bathroom. So you carefully maneuvered your way out of his bed, dressed yourself in the first thing you found— his dress shirt from last night and tip toed out of his bedroom. You felt so weird walking around his house without his permission, but he hadn't exactly given you a tour last night. So you ventured until you found a bathroom. By the time you were done Leon still hadn't left his bedroom so you decided to find his kitchen for a glass of water at least. You looked around on your way to the kitchen. He wasn't much of a decorator. It was definitely the apartment of a single man. But as soon as you walked to the kitchen you saw countless drawings and pictures hanging from the fridge. 

Your heart warmed as you walked to see the drawings up close. There were definitely Izzy's. You smiled to yourself at the photo you saw next to one of the drawings, one of Leon, a few years younger, holding a baby in a hospital blanket. All of the other photos you saw were similar. It was only Leon and Isabella in all of them. Not a single one of Izzy's mom. 

Did she never want to be a part of her life? Was she truly never around? 

"You tried to run away last night, and when I wake up you're gone, too? Was I that bad?" You jumped at the sound of Leon's voice in the kitchen. 

You cursed loudly, holding a hand to your rapidly beating heart as you glared at him, making him laugh. 

"Asshole. I wanted to use the bathroom, and you were still asleep." You shrugged your shoulders, eyeing him carefully. Still no shirt, but he was wearing a pair of plaid pajamas pants now. He had his phone in his hand and was scratching the back of his head, attempting to smooth down his bedhead. 

"You look pretty with my shirt. Looks better on you actually." He hummed as he padded through the kitchen to stand in front of you.

He stood in front of you, watching you intently for a few seconds before he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. 

You giggled against his lips, happily kissing him. You threw your arms over his shoulders and he rested his hands on your hips. 

"Mmm, you hungry?" He asked, brushing his nose against yours and his lips were curled up into a grin. You nodded, biting your bottom lip. "Me too." 

You gasped when he hoisted you up on the kitchen island. You gripped his shoulders as you watched him with wide eyes. But he said nothing as he nudged your legs open with his knee and stood in between them. 

"What? I said I was hungry." He smirked as he captured your lips with his own one more time before he dropped to his knees in front of you. 

Without taking his eyes off from you, he threw one of your ankles over his shoulder and pressed his lips to the inside of your knee. Slowly, his lips itched closer and closer to your already dripping core. You held your breath with anticipation as he nibbled on your inner thigh. His lips were so close to where you needed him the most. His head got lost between your thighs and your hand instinctively fell on the back of his hair. His breath fanned hot against your clit and—

You jumped, your ass nearly slipping right off the counter, but Leon steadied you with a quick sturdy hand on your thigh. He was also startled by the sound of his phone ringing next to you. He closed his eyes, cursing under his breath. 

You took a deep breath, inhaling sharply as you looked beside you at his phone screen. 

"It says Claire." 

Leon shot up to his feet in a split second when you said that and he was answering the call almost frantically. 

"Hey. What's up? Everything alright?" He said into the phone, still standing between your parted legs. You frowned softly with concern, your hand resting on his chest as he listened to the woman on the line. "Shit, really?" 

He said nothing for a few seconds, just humming and nodding to himself before he pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed out an exasperated sigh. 

"No, you're okay, thanks for calling, Claire. Just give her some cereal, play her a Disney movie or something while I get there." He finally spoke, finally looking at you. And his blue eyes looked apologetic. "Yeah, I'll be there in fifteen. Yeah. See you soon." 

Leon placed his phone on the counter beside you and sighed. You looked up at him, eyes big with worry. 

"It's Izzy. I left her at my friend’s and apparently she woke up fuzzy. She's been crying all morning asking for me, so, gotta go pick her up." He explained, the corner of his lip curving up into an apologetic smile. You exhaled softly, the anxiety leaving your chest. 

You gave him a smile and pressed a kiss to his lips, "I get it. Don't worry. I'll get dressed so you can pick her up. I'm sorry I kept you from picking her up last night." 

"Oh, no sweetheart, don't say that. Last night was incredible. She just gets… Clingy I suppose." He sighed as he helped you down from the counter. 

"You're her only parent. It's normal. I should know." You gave him a smile as you started to head to his bedroom to get your clothes, but he grabbed your wrist, tugging you to his chest before you could. 

"Hey, I still owe you breakfast. Can I take you out again sometime?" 

The smile on your face was so wide you probably wouldn't be able to hide it even if you tried. 

"Yeah, I'll be around." 

[jinhyun]

—where we left off.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, very slight drama, pining, non-idol au, best friend’s brother au

word count: 7.4k

summary: spending new years’s eve at a club with your best friend’s brother and his friends sounded like a lot of fun. that until a certain girl felt like fighting you for him, and suddenly spending the countdown back at your place, just the two of you, sounded so much better.

warnings: mentions of alcohol

author’s note: hellooo, don’t come for me, as usual i couldn’t control myself lmao. this is kind of like part 5.2 of my social media au “heart out”, in case anyone who doesn’t follow the story comes across this one shot. i hope this manages to give you all some more context of what was going on behind the texts, and i hope you all enjoy! if you do please don’t forget to leave an ask or a comment with your thoughts on it<3

“You’re kidding”.

A single chuckle was heard in the hallway, where Hyunjin stood holding up a quite long puffer jacket of his for you to wear.

It was comical, actually — how you had opened the door for him with a smile adorning your face, only for it to be erased the second he flaunted the jacket in your face and you were hit with the fact that he was indeed not kidding when he told you earlier that day that he’d bring you a jacket if you decided you weren’t wearing one.

A part of him regretted it as soon as he saw you. You looked beautiful. You always did, but the dress you decided to wear that night could only make him feel like not taking his eyes off of you for even just a second; wishing he could throw the jacket to the side and act like he hadn’t brought it in the first place.

The most rational part of him, the one that could still manage to control himself around you, however, made him stand his ground. As stunning as you looked, the weather outside was just too cold for you to wear only a dress.

“As you can see,” he wiggled the piece of clothing in his hands. “I am not”.

“You really expect me to wear that?” You raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Unless you want to go get a puffer jacket of your own, yes”.

Rolling your eyes, you took a step outside your apartment and closed the door behind you, sliding your purse down your arm before you took his coat from him. “Whatever, I’m taking it off as soon as I enter the restaurant anyway”.

Holding your purse for you while you put the jacket on, Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile at the sight in front. You wearing his clothes made him feel something he had not quite felt before, and he could only rejoice in it and take it one step further by zipping the jacket up until it was covering your chin.

“I look ridiculous” you stated.

“You look cute” he reassured you, handing you your bag.

“You look handsome though, and I’m not matching your vibe anymore” you fought him once more, completely unaware of the power your first statement had over him.

Having to clear his throat in order to conceive the butterflies in his stomach, he gestured to the stairs, so you would start walking towards them.

“Let’s go” he said. “You can match my vibe when you take it off at dinner”.

The moment you stepped a foot outside, you were thankful that he forced you to wear it, but he wouldn’t catch you admitting it out loud, of course. Not like he needed you to anyway, for one look at you and the way you were hugging yourself while you waited for the taxi he called to pull over, was enough for him to smile proudly to himself.

And then, when you arrived to the restaurant and you didn’t immediately take it off like you claimed you would, he knew you’d found comfort in the warmth it was providing you with.

One of his friends spotted him from their table and waved at him, catching his attention, and only then, when you were walking towards a group of at least ten people, you began to feel nervous. It only intensified when you reached them and all their eyes focused on both of you.

Greeting everyone with a small bow, you walked around the table after Hyunjin motioned for you to go before him.

Thankfully, Han and Minho had saved two seats in between them, so you’d end up sitting in between Hyunjin and either one of them instead of next to any of their other friends you didn’t know.

As soon as you reached the empty seats, you threw Hyunjin a taunting smile.

“May I take this off now?” You motioned at the jacket he made you wear.

Hyunjin laughed, nodding his head and reaching out to help you slide it off your arms. “You’re putting it back on as soon as we’re done here, though”.

You visibly rolled your eyes at him, earning another light laugh of his as he placed it on the chair in front of him, and then pulled it out for you to sit down. It took you a second to get it, only doing so when his eyes met yours and he nodded his head towards the seat for you to sit down on.

You smiled sweetly, doing as told and then quietly thanking him when he took a seat next to you.

You realised then that, much to your relief, you had already been introduced to most of the people in there, thanks to that one birthday party they threw Hyunjin a few years ago, and some others you had seen on two or three of his social media posts.

The only new faces were two guys sitting by the left and a brunette sitting in front of you, right next to Haeun, a really nice girl you remembered talking to back at Hyunjin’s surprise party.

“Did you guys order already?” Hyunjin asked.

“Not yet,” Minho replied, handing him the menu. “But we already know what we’re ordering, so you better make up your mind fast”.

Chuckling under his breath, Hyunjin placed the menu in front of the two of you while his friends called the waiter to start ordering, so you could check out your options.

“Would it be too basic of me to just order tteokbokki?” You mumbled for only him to hear, still staring at the menu after having gone through everything in it. “Although donkatsu does sound really good right now”.

“The donkatsu here is amazing so I had that in mind, but now I’m torn between tteokbokki as well” he confessed with a breathy laugh, earning a chuckle from you.

“Should we order both and share them?” You proposed, looking up to him and watching a bright smile show on his face.

“Yeah, let’s do that”.

Sitting up straight right as everyone else was done ordering, Hyunjin handed the menu back to the waiter and proceeded to order what the two of you agreed on.

As soon as the waiter left, you felt all eyes fall on the two of you.

“So when were you telling us you got yourself a girlfriend?” One the guys you had never seen before asked him right away.

Hyunjin almost choked on air, feeling his face heat up while everyone stared at the two of you and you looked nearly frozen over that question.

“I’m not…” you began, looking over at Hyunjin as you didn’t really know what else to say.

“She’s Yeji’s best friend” Hyunjin finished your point.

“Oh? You guys must be very close then for you to bring her without your sister” Jihoo, if you remembered the name correctly, asked this time with a teasing smirk.

“Yeji’s out of town and Hyunie didn’t want me to spend new year’s eve alone” you explained.

“Yeah, I can tell you guys aren’t that close” the girl next to Haeun stated, her eyes going from you to Hyunjin. “Hyunjin hates being called Hyunie”.

“We are close, though” Hyunjin corrected her in a heartbeat. Had she not just seen you arrive together while you wore his jacket? “She can call me whatever she wants”.

Your head turned to Han next to you, who couldn’t hold back a snort and ended up choking on his water.

“Oh, so he’s like a little brother to you?” She asked you directly this time, and you managed to catch the not very subtle nudge Haeun gave her to shut up. “Is that why you call him that?”

“Can we talk about something else?” Han spoke before you could answer, having managed to catch his breath surprisingly fast. “Hyunjin’s love life has never been that interesting anyway”.

Although earning himself a smack from Hyunjin, it was enough to make the whole table laugh and move on to another topic — one that didn’t have to do with your and Hyunjin’s relationship status, and one that would definitely not end up with you possibly confirming to him that you saw him as a little brother. He really had to thank Han for that one.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. Hyunjin’s friends were a lot of fun, you soon realised, to the point you found yourself laughing so much that you were able to ignore the nasty looks the girl in front of you —whose name you later found out was Dahye— would give you anytime you interacted with Hyunjin; which, considering he was sitting next to you and on top of that he was sharing dishes with you, were a lot.

It wouldn’t take a genius to understand that she was into Hyunjin and that it might be a problem that night given he had arrived with you, but you had more important things to care about rather than to pay attention to her anyway, like making sure you’d get along with Hyunjin’s friends so he wouldn’t feel like he had to check up on you to see if you were having fun every five minutes, and later that night racing him to pay for the check, only to be beaten by him.

The proud smirk that curved up his mouth while he paid for dinner was enough for you to peacefully accept your defeat and forget about the girl glaring at you from the side.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

By the time you made it to the club, which was only three streets away from the restaurant, as Hyunjin’s group had deliberately chosen one of the most popular areas not to need another car to get you there, it was already filled with people — the queue to enter being quite long, yet moving surprisingly fast.

Hyunjin found himself unconsciously tugging at the sleeve of your —his— jacket as soon as you made it inside, standing right behind you not to lose you in the crowd of people as you made your way past them. And it only hit him how close you were when you turned your head to him and your nose nearly brushed against his mouth.

“We should find the coat check” you said, coming closer to his ear for him to be able to hear you over the loud music.

He nodded, gulping hard before the two of you stood there looking around the place. When you found it not too far from where you were standing, you pointed at it, feeling Hyunjin nod behind you and telling something to one of his friends before taking off — although inaudible, you guessed it had to do with something along the lines of coming back to them right away.

“You know, this wouldn’t have been necessary if you’d just let me come without a coat” you taunted once on the desk, beginning to take it off.

Hyunjin chuckled, shaking his head while he took his jacket off as well, as it was way hotter than he’d expected inside the club. Much to your surprise, the black shirt he was wearing underneath, and which you had supposed was long-sleeved, was not. His biceps were fully displayed as he reached for your purse and the puffer jacket you were trying to fold, and you couldn’t help but stare while he handed the three items to the person behind the desk.

Putting the claim ticket inside his pants’ pocket, his eyes focused back on you, smiling shyly when he caught you staring.

“And then I’m the one who’s not appropriately dressed for the weather?” You raised a questioning eyebrow.

His previous shy smile turned into a smirk, gently turning you around and placing his hands on your bare shoulders so he could lead you through the crowd towards your group. “I was wearing a jacket”.

“It’s so not the same?” You turned your face to him once again, and he swore your unannounced proximity would be the end of him.

“I care about you not getting a cold, shouldn’t you be saying thank you?” He argued, pulling you closer to him when you almost bumped into someone.

“I looked ridiculous” you stated.

He begged to differ, you looked adorable. He would lend you his clothes every time he could, even if you weren’t being stubborn and didn’t really need him to at all.

“Besides, who says I don’t care about you catching a cold either?”

“I didn’t see you bringing me a jacket though?” He questioningly tilted his head.

You rolled your eyes. “You can wear the one you brought me once we leave. I’ll wear your other one”.

Hyunjin laughed under his breath, thankful for the loud music and bad lighting that allowed him to hide just how flustered he was over the simple thought of you leaving the club wearing the jacket he had come with. Sure, you came in wearing his puffer jacket, but there was something about everyone else seeing you leave in the jacket he was previously wearing, that sent butterflies flying all over his stomach.

“I’ll think about it” he tried to play it cool, earning a triumphant smile from you.

Seeing Han wave towards the two of you from near the bar, Hyunjin tightened his hold on your shoulders, redirecting your body in said direction before you saw him as well. Getting closer to the group, the two of you smiled in relief when you noticed they had managed to take over a booth.

“Where’s the rest?” He asked Han, realising only half of the group was there.

Jisung shrugged. “Some went to get drinks, some are dancing”.

Hyunjin gave him a quick nod before turning back to you. “I’ll go get us drinks” he informed you. “Cranberry vodka is it? Or do you want something else?”

“Cranberry vodka is perfect” you smiled, finding it the sweetest how he remembered such a small detail like your drink of choice. “Should I go with you?”

He shook his head no, motioning for you to take a seat. “It’s okay, I’ll be right back”.

You gave him a smile, nodding for him to go and watching him and Han disappear into the crowd before you sat down, sliding towards the empty spot next to Minho, who was already enjoying his drink.

“Having fun so far?” He tried to initiate small talk.

Your eyebrows furrowed, leaning slightly closer to him, as you had not been able to hear him. “What?”

“Are you having fun?” He spoke over the music.

You nodded, a smile curving up your lips. “Yeah, you guys are fun. Although I’ve mostly been glued to Hyunie all night, which must be annoying”.

Minho chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. If you only knew, you being stuck to him was all Hyunjin ever wanted.

“Nah, he’s okay with it” he reassured you. “He was really excited about you joining us”.

Your smile brightened, feeling like a weight had just been lifted off your shoulders. “That’s good to know…” you mumbled more to yourself.

“Hey, we’re going to dance!” Haeun caught your attention from the other side of the booth, gesturing to herself and another girl next to her. “You wanna come?”

You politely denied with a smile. “I’m waiting for Hyunjin, maybe later!”

They both smiled back at you, standing up and rushing towards the rest of the group.

“Aren’t you joining the rest over there?” You asked Minho, catching on the way he was looking at them as well.

“Probably will once the alcohol hits” he confessed with a small smirk, getting a light laugh from you.

“Oh, so you’re into Minho then” a female voice spoke loudly from right behind you.

Turning around, you were met with Dahye, who was now sitting down next to you and staring at you with what you could recognize as a cynical smile.

Now, you didn’t have a problem with her so far, but the way it was becoming a habit of hers to make assumptions about your relationships with people was really beginning to annoy you.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not into Hyunjin but into Minho” she took a sip of her drink. “I’ve got nothing to worry about then”.

“I’m not into anyone” you clarified.

“Good, because Hyunjin and I have a thing going on, so it’d be really messed up for you to come in between” she mindlessly played with the straw. “Not like he’d pay attention to you anyway, you seem way too mature and he’s into girls more his age, like me”.

Before you could reply, a very loud scoff was heard from Minho.

“Is bullshit all that ever comes out of your mouth?” He practically yelled over the music, getting dumbfounded looks from the rest of his friends in the booth.

Her mouth remained shut, shrugging ever so nonchalantly before she took another sip of liquor. Minho rolled his eyes, standing up and motioning for you to slide to his previous seat, so he could take your place instead and keep Dahye from interacting with you anymore.

“Don’t listen to her, she’s just jealous” he leaned in to say in more of a whisper.

Choosing to say nothing and to just let it slip, you nodded understandingly. In all honesty, though, you hardly understood what was going on.

Minho said that she was jealous, and you got that, it was clear that she had a thing for Hyunjin and it must’ve sucked to see him arrive with someone else. You knew you would’ve felt the same had you been in her shoes. But you had already explained that you were Hyunjin’s sister’s best friend, and that the only reason he invited you was because she was out of town. On top of that, you had also just made it known that you weren’t interested in anyone — not Hyunjin, not Minho, not any of their friends at all. So why wouldn’t she just drop it?

You disliked the way she was handling the whole situation, but you tried to understand her. The side of you that knew what it felt like to have feelings for someone and fear they were into someone else, tried its best to sympathize with her.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Hyunjin arrived, loudly announcing that Han had stayed back and joined the rest of the group on the dance floor.

His previous smile faltered and his eyebrows furrowed when he realised that not only had Dahye joined your side of the booth, but also that you and Minho had switched places. One single look at his very annoyed friend, however, was enough for him to guess the whole picture.

Just as you had done a minute ago, he decided to say nothing, instead handing you your drink and smiling when you thanked him and squeezed up against Jihoo next to you, to make some space for him.

“Everything alright?” He asked, unable to hide his worry.

“Mhm…” you took a sip of your drink. “Apparently I’m into Minho now”.

“Wait, what?”

Minho nudged him to catch his attention before he could fully panic. “That’s what your admirer accused her of”.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. That was one hell of a jump scare you just gave him.

“Why’d she think that anyway?”

“We were just talking and I guess we got too close since we couldn’t hear each other” you explained, chuckling to yourself when you realised you were just as close to Hyunjin now. “Just like we are now, she must be back to thinking I’m into you”.

Now, that was something he could deal with; Dahye —or anyone else for that matter— believing you were into him. That simple thought made him happy enough to let it slide just how close you had apparently been to his friend minutes ago.

A bright smile parted his lips, trying to play it cool by taking a sip of his drink, only for it to be erased the moment Dahye called him from next to Minho.

“Hyunjin, let’s go dance?”

He shook his head no. “I’m fine, thanks”.

“Yah,” you whispered-shouted, gently nudging him, which earned you a confused look by him. “Go have fun”.

“I am having fun,” he brought his drink up to his lips. “Right here”.

“Aw, come on” she insisted, reaching over Minho to hold Hyunjin’s wrist — needless to say, it took him less than a second to snatch his hand away. “You can still enjoy your drink on the dance floor”.

Not giving her an answer, his eyes fixed on you, and for some reason that was all it took for you to get it all wrong — because the scene you were seeing in front of you was the one of a girl who was head over heels for Hyunjin, trying her best to spend some time with him, and a very troubled Hyunjin who didn’t want to leave you alone. After all, he had invited you to join him and his friends that night, therefore, it was only rational that he’d think of it as rude to leave you all alone to go dance with someone else. Or so you thought.

So, not wanting to be the one holding him back, you did the most reasonable thing you could come up with in that moment: show him you could have fun on your own and he didn’t need to be glued to you making sure you were.

“Minho, you wanna dance?”

Not only did Minho’s head snap in your direction, but so did Hyunjin’s.

“Me?” He asked, taken aback as ever.

“Yeah” you smiled, already getting up to get out of the booth. “We can join Han and the rest”.

Feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, Minho’s first instinct was to look at Hyunjin, hopelessly looking for approval. Hyunjin, on the other hand, was too busy staring up at you to even notice his friend’s cry for help.

When he invited you to join them that night, he had completely overlooked the fact that you could end up bonding with someone else. He was blinded by the idea of him being the closest to you and therefore you not leaving his side, which was only intensified considering you’d been stuck together all night, but now you were asking Minho to dance with you instead of him, and he realised he had only played himself.

“Come onnn, the alcohol must be hitting at least a little bit by now” you teased him for his previous statement, motioning towards the dance floor.

“I mean, y-yes, sure” Minho stuttered, and only then, hearing his answer, Hyunjin’s glaring eyes fixed on him. “Maybe we could all go?”

His suggestion managed to calm Hyunjin down. Sure, he hated how Dahye was being included and how she’d most definitely end up dancing with him since you had asked Minho to, but it was the best his friend could do given the circumstances, and he was thankful for it.

“Yeah, let’s go” Hyunjin agreed, standing up as well and, much to his disappointment, being followed by a very happy Dahye.

He had definitely played himself.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

Although your plan had partially failed, given you weren’t able to leave Hyunjin and Dahye alone, you were still decided to make the most of it and have a good time.

Nevertheless, roughly twenty minutes on the dance floor were enough for you to realise that having fun and ignoring Dahye’s behaviour towards you wouldn’t be as easy as it was during dinner. Because, although you did dance with Minho at first and she got to be with Hyunjin for a while, it only took a few minutes for the whole group to get together and end up goofily dancing around in a messy circle.

Hyunjin naturally gravitated towards you, and so did you towards him, for at the end of the day he was the one you came with and the one you wanted to be with the most, but every time he tried to talk to you over the music or just get closer to you for the sake of it, the girl next to him would try to draw his attention back to her.

You didn’t know whether to be annoyed or to feel bad for her, finding yourself acting oblivious to her poor attempts most of the time. It wasn’t your business anyway, but something she and Hyunjin had to figure out.

Even then, when she tugged at Hyunjin’s arm to pull him to her when you tried to come close to his ear in order to say something to him, you realised you had enough of this one-sided battle.

Gently grabbing his wrist right after he pulled away from her grasp and Haeun came to the rescue by making Dahye dance with her instead, you looked at the time on his watch. It was only a little past eleven, and you decided that was good enough for you to go back home.

Placing a hand on his shoulder and motioning for him to lean down so you could speak closer to his ear like you had previously tried to, you stood on your tiptoes to meet him halfway. “Can you hand me the claim ticket to go get my bag? I’ll bring it back before leaving”.

His eyebrows furrowed. “You wanna leave?”

You nodded. “Yeah, but you stay here. I’ll call a taxi, you don’t need to come with me”.

“Is something wrong?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“No, but—” you were cut off by a guy dancing behind you bumping into you. Your first instinct was to laugh it off, and Hyunjin’s was to pull you to him.

“Let’s go get our things and talk outside” he raised his voice over the music once again. “It’s too chaotic in here”.

You simply nodded, deciding to look past the fact that he was getting his jacket as well, and wanting to believe it only had to do with him going outside until you left and not wanting to freeze in the meantime.

Once on the street, you were thankful to breathe in some fresh air, even if it was cold as hell compared to how it was inside the club. Hyunjin ended up going against his fantasy of seeing you in the jacket he had arrived in, and giving you his puffer coat once again instead. You were far done complaining by now anyway, for it was doing wonders to keep you warm.

“Is the taxi coming?” He asked, shoving his phone into his pocket after letting his friends know you were leaving.

“Mhm…” you nodded, looking up from your phone and catching the way he was rubbing his hands together and blowing some hot breath in them. “Should be here in the next five minutes”.

“It’s not even midnight yet, though…” he pointed out. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened, really, I just…” you shrugged, a shy smile curving up your lips. “Am I allowed to say it?”

“Say what?” He wondered.

“I feel like I’m cockblocking you”.

“What?” To say he was astonished was an understatement. “Cockblocking me? You?”

“Yeah, with Dahye”.

“With Dahye?!”

You laughed, shaking your head as you looked down at your phone, seeing the taxi be only four minutes away now.

“Have I not made it clear enough that I don’t like her?”

“But you could if you weren’t so closed off to give her a chance” you smiled. “I feel like I’m keeping you from getting a midnight kiss and maybe even more by being here because you’re kind of obliged to stick with me, or maybe you feel uncomfortable with me seeing that side of you because I’m Yeji’s friend and I could snitch on you or something”.

Hyunjin blinked rapidly, trying to take in the nonsense that had just come out of your mouth.

“I’m not obliged to, I want to be with you” he clarified. “And I couldn’t care less about you snitching on me to Yeji, I’ve got lots of shit on her anyway. That’s not it at all”.

“But she—”

“I don’t know what makes you think I want to kiss Dahye at midnight or whatever, because I—just,” he sighed. “It’s kind of a long story”.

“Ugh, just when my taxi’s almost here,” you whined, looking up from your phone and to the street. “You can go back inside, but I’m very intrigued now so maybe we can catch up later?”

“No, I’m leaving with you”.

“I can leave alone, though. You don’t have to worry about me, Hyun…jin? Hyun?” Your eyebrows furrowed, pensively. “Is Hyun okay? Should I stick to Hyunjin?”

“What?”

“Dahye said you hate being called Hyunie,” you reminded him. “I’ve been calling you that all these years, I’m sorry”.

“Y/N, no. Please don’t,” he sighed heavily, throwing his head back as he felt like pulling his hair out. “Don’t listen to anything she says”.

“But—”

“But nothing, she knows nothing” he cut you off. “I only hate it when she calls me that. I’ve told her multiple times not to”.

“Are you sure?” You hesitated.

He nodded, coming closer to you. “Like I told her earlier tonight, you can call me whatever you want”.

“Even if it’s something ridiculous like pudding?” You smirked, and he snorted, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Who are you, Harley Quinn?”

“Don’t test me, I will come up with something embarrassing to call you in front of your friends”.

Before he could bite back, your taxi pulled over in front of you.

“You should go back to them now” you motioned towards the club, walking towards the car.

“I don’t want you to welcome the new year alone, though” he followed hot on your heels.

You smiled sweetly. “Trust me, you did more than enough for me tonight. I had a lot of fun thanks to you, Hyunie, you don’t need to worry about me at all”.

He smiled softly, loving that you were back to calling him that.

“Would it change anything if I said I want to be with you at midnight?”

“Possibly…” you felt your face heat up. “But I want you to have fun with your friends”.

“Okay then, how about this,” he began, knowing he didn’t have much time to negotiate right then and opening the door for you. “I leave with you now, we spend the countdown together, and then I come back here afterwards”.

Pondering your choices for a quick second, and knowing he was just as obstinate as you, you gave in.

“Okay,” you smiled, entering the car for once and for all. “I expect you at my door ready to come back here as soon as midnight hits, though”.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

You made it back to your place barely twenty minutes before midnight.

You were relieved to be able to take off your heels, rushing to set the coffee table in your living room the best you could with what you had at home — that being a few snacks and a bottle of white wine, as your original plan before Hyunjin invited you to spend new year’s eve with him was to eat and drink alone while watching TV and scrolling through your phone.

He tried to help you set everything up, but you were adamant on him relaxing on your couch while you took care of it. After all, he was the one to treat you all night, now it was your time to take care of him.

Once everything was done, and Hyunjin was quietly switching channels to find one covering the new year’s celebration not to miss the countdown, you excused yourself to quickly change into something more comfortable, since, unlike him, you weren’t going out again.

“How long until midnight?” You asked, fixing your hair while you re-entered the living room in a dark blue sleepwear.

“Twelve minutes” he announced, gesturing towards the TV.

“I was afraid we wouldn’t make it” you confessed, earning a laugh from him as you slumped on the couch.

“Good thing the club wasn’t that far from your place” Hyunjin chuckled, handing you a glass of the wine he opened while you changed in your room.

“Honestly I didn’t care about missing the countdown, but then you came here with me and I was afraid I’d make you miss it”.

“Worst case scenario, we celebrated in the taxi” he shrugged.

“As opposed to you getting to be all hyped up spending it with your friends at the club?” You questioned, then shaking your head in denial. “I would’ve felt so bad”.

He chuckled, taking a sip of wine. “I wouldn’t have minded”.

“No, but I’m sorry I felt like leaving earlier” you pouted. “We should’ve just gone back inside”.

“The taxi was already there,” he pointed out. “And in all honesty I wouldn’t have made you go back there when I knew you were uncomfortable. Dahye kinda ruined it for me too anyway”.

“Right…” you mumbled. “So what is it with her?”

He sighed heavily, making you laugh over how stressed out he seemed just by thinking of it.

“Okay so first of all, she’s not even part of our friend group” he began. “She’s Haeun’s cousin and she always manages to get her to invite her to our hangouts, which is really annoying since she isn’t friends with most of us”.

“You invited me, though?”

“It’s different” he argued. “You’re nothing like her, and my friends really like you”.

“She doesn’t seem that bad?” You tried to reason, and the glare you got from him was enough to let you know she was. “Don’t give me that look, she looked pretty nice to everyone but me”.

“Yeah, that’s…” he sighed again. “She’s had a thing for me for like two years now, and I made the awful mistake of kissing her when I got wasted one night after breaking up with Seoyun and now she won’t leave me alone”.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on” you sat up straight, leaving your glass on the coffee table to focus on him entirely. “You kissed her?! Seoyun? Who’s Seoyun?”

And then it hit him, how you never really knew about his first girlfriend. Because you weren’t as close back then.

Somehow, spending these past three days with you made your fall-out feel minuscule, like you’d only spent a couple of months apart at most. It was only then that he got a reality check and got hit by the fact that you had missed almost four years of each other’s life.

Although you kept in touch as much as you could, he now realised how superficial your conversations and interactions had remained.

“Right,” he laughed nervously. “Um, she was my girlfriend. And yes, I kissed Dahye…”

“And now you’re surprised that she’s obsessed with you?”

He snorted, pinching the bridge of his nose as he lamented. “I was drunk. Wasted, actually. I wouldn’t even remember if it weren’t for the fact that Han and Minho won’t let me live it down”.

You chuckled, imagining just how much shit they must’ve given him for it. “It was only a one time thing then?”

“Yeah, I think it was like the second time we saw each other, didn’t know how pushy she was back then” he ran a hand through his hair. “But then after that night she expected more and I explained to her that I was drunk as hell and I tend to get really touchy in that state and that it meant nothing to me—”

“Ouch?”

“I sugarcoated it, okay?” He squinted his eyes at you. “But she’s been very insistent since then and I’ve told her so many times that I want nothing to do with her, that I… I don’t know, my patience ran out, I can’t really be nice about it anymore”.

“I get it…” you mumbled, staring to your lap. “It must be really annoying that she won’t take no for an answer after all these years. Sorry I tried to set you up with her in a way, I didn’t know”.

Hyunjin smiled, loving how easy it was to talk to you — how you never really judged him, but tried to understand him and his choices instead.

“It’s okay…” he mumbled as well. “Just please don’t try to leave me alone with her again, I said I wanted to stay with you back then”.

“You didn’t really say that” you argued with a smirk, having him shake his head and bring his cup to his mouth. “But I know better now, won’t do it again”.

“Thank you” he sighed in relief, and you giggled, reaching for your glass and taking a small sip of wine before you looked at him again.

“You said it was after you broke up with… Sooyun?”

“Seoyun” he corrected. “Yes”.

“I only knew about Nara. Was this before her?” You tilted your head.

“Yeah, a few months before her” he explained. “Seoyun and I dated for like three months by the end of 2021, then that thing with Dahye happened, and then I dated Nara in like middle 2022. That’s pretty much the timeline”.

“And I’m hoping Dahye stopped insisting when you got together with Nara?”

“As if” he scoffed. “Nara couldn’t stand her. It’s good that she doesn’t have my number and the only times we interact are when she tags along in our hangouts, otherwise it would’ve been so much worse than it was”.

“Next time you get a girlfriend, I say you block her on every social media”.

“I’ll block her on everything if you do the same with Mingyu” he playfully held his pinky up for you to seal the promise.

What he got instead, was a throaty laugh coming out of your mouth as you lightly slapped his hand away. “You’re an idiot”.

“I think it’s pretty reasonable, though?”

“We’ll see” you played along. “You need to get a girlfriend first in order for me to follow through”.

“I can block her right now, I don’t care” he stated, taking his phone out of his pocket.

“Stop!” You laughed, stopping him from unlocking it. “There’s no really need to just yet”.

Rolling his eyes, he let his phone fall on the couch. “You’re no fun”.

You chuckled, taking another sip as the living room fell silent and your mind went through everything you had just talked about. You surely had missed a lot.

You had missed him a lot.

“I can’t believe I never knew about Seoyun…”

“I mean, not even my sister knew back then, it wasn’t that serious…” he swirled the drink in his hand. “And we didn’t really talk that much anymore back then, so…”

“Yeah… sorry about that” you smiled bittersweetly. “It was my fault we drifted away. I’m sorry, Hyunie”.

“What do you mean it was your fault?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably. “Mingyu didn’t like me having guy friends. Girl friends he was fine with up to a certain extent, but he just… was a little possessive”

He felt his blood boil. “You never told me that”.

“Like you said, we didn’t really talk much back then anymore” you smiled weakly. “But yeah, I didn’t see it as a problem because I was so in love with him that it made me feel good to know that he wanted me all to himself, as idiotic as it sounds, so I ended up pulling away from most of my friends. Chan was the only guy friend I kept throughout our relationship, mainly because he’s been my best friend since high school. Mingyu still was a bit wary at first but Chan’s where I drew the line”.

“Couldn’t you have drawn the line with me, too?”

Hyunjin tried to make his words come off as a lighthearted joke, but the weak tone in his voice and the hurt look in his eyes let you know he was serious, regardless of the smile adorning his mouth.

“I tried, Hyunie. I really tried” you confessed.

“You did?” His eyes softened.

“Mhm…” you ran a hand through your hair. “You mean a lot to me, I loved the way our friendship was back then, but Mingyu just had this… he was convinced you had a thing for me, and he would go on and on about it”.

Oh.

“Then again, according to him everyone had a thing for me” you rolled your eyes at the memory. “So please don’t take it to heart, I know you didn’t and it was all in his mind. I tried to reason with him plenty of times, but he just wouldn’t listen”.

“I understand…” he mumbled. “It’s okay…”

All this time, he thought he had made a good job at hiding his feelings for you. Apparently not.

Of course they would be obvious as hell to the one other person who was in love with you back then.

He hated to admit it, but he could see where Mingyu was coming from; at least when it came to him. He could’ve handled it better for sure, but he knew that if he was in Mingyu’s shoes and he knew you were close with someone who had a thing for you, he wouldn’t like it either.

“I wish I hadn’t pushed everyone away because of him…” you lamented.

“At least you still have Yeji and Chan” he tried to cheer you up.

“Yeah, but now I feel like a third wheel most of the time” you confessed rather bitterly. “It’s not their fault at all, and they do make me feel included, but that’s just how I feel. It was great before because there were four of us, but now it’s just me and ugh”.

Watching you throw your head back in exasperation, he bit his lip, staring into his glass as he debated on whether to say the words that were dancing on the tip of his tongue.

“Maybe we could…”

Your head snapped back to him, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

“Maybe we could what?” You wondered when he wouldn’t.

“Maybe we could take up where we left off?”

“Where we left off?”

“Yeah, you know… I mean, I hope it wasn’t only me, but I feel like we were really close back then? Before he came into the picture” he explained, feeling nervous as ever under your piercing stare. “Like, we’d text everyday, we’d see each other quite often too… we didn’t have to rely on Yeji to interact, and… if you’re up for it, I would like to go back to that”.

All nervousness washed away when you smiled.

Nodding your head softly, you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your mouth, making the pace of his heartbeats skyrocket.

“I would really love that”.

“You would?” He asked breathily.

“Mhm…” you reassured him. “I don’t know if you missed the part where I said you mean a lot to me, but I’d love for us to be close again”.

Hyunjin smiled shyly, lowering his head and begging his cheeks not to give away the beautiful mess he was feeling inside.

As if saved by the bell, your eyes went to the TV for a second, and only that took for you to jump in your place and gesture for him to take a look as well.

Fifteen seconds until midnight.

Fourteen.

Thirteen.

“Twelve minutes already?” You asked, dumbfoundedly looking at him.

Hyunjin laughed. Had you not looked at the TV in that moment, you would probably have continued talking into the next year without noticing.

Ten.

Nine.

“To pick up where we left off?” He offered a small toast, raising his glass.

Six.

You chuckled, happily nodding your head before raising your glass as well. “To pick up where we left off”.

Three. You counted together.

Two.

One.

Clinking your glasses together, the two of you gave it a poor attempt at cheering, resulting in both of you laughing as you leaned in for a comfortable hug.

“Happy new year, Hyunie” you cooed, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He smiled softly, mimicking your small action and gently rubbing his thumbs up and down your sides. “Happy new year, Y/N”.

Starting the new year together and with the promise of becoming close again, could only make the two of you excited, hopeful even, for what was to come.

Needless to say, he was not going back to the club after midnight.

tag list: @jehhskz @iknowyouknowminho @doohnut @saintcosette @lailac13 @kayleefriedchicken @rikibun @yongbokkiesworld @seungzsmin @beautifulcolorgarden @hyunetopia @velvetmoonlght @automaticpersonabatpaper @httpdwaekki @brinnalaine @wondering-out-loud @feelikecinderella @nujeskz @amarecerasus @liknws @nhyunn @midsoulz @tirena1 @tinyelfperson @thatonexcgirl @iovecb97 @hynier @phenomenalgirl9 @your-favorite-pirate @jin-from-the-block @yearofthetiger25 @quokkacidal @stayconnecteed @kwanisms @yoonguurt @143hyunes @iiriam @curlytxe @hyunlvrs @allyrarara @machaandlofi @mehli-00 @justiceforvillains @minhosprettywife @whats-my-question @armystay89 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hyeon-yi @skzstannie @onlyhyunjin @shyshyshytwice @nicoleparadas @​broken-glowsticks @sweetbokji

[petew21-blog]

Revenge possession

Devon was your normal college guy, who also had a god like body on the other hand. His life wasn't very special in many ways. He had two brothers and one sister. All born in USA, moving the states a lot. All had an unproblematic childhood. Everytime a problem occured it would be solved by itself almost immediately or the parents would take care of it. Speaking of the parents I have to mention one tiny detail.

Their parents. How to put this? Their parents were a lovely pair, highschool sweethearts, very good looking. The only downside was that they were serial killers.

And that brings the story to me. Hey, I'm Jake and I was hitchhiking in California back then when Devon's seemingly fine parents picked me and then brutally murdered me in the forest. Kinda dark right? Yeah. I was a 21 year old guy with my life ahead of me and they ended in a few minutes just to have some thrilling disgusting moment in their life.

My ghost has been roaming the world for another 20 years. I was trying to find the family to have my revenge. But everytime I got close they moved their family to another state. That also included the problems the family didn't have. The parents would always eliminate the one who caused the problems.

But now I found them. Or atleast their children. Even though I had 20 years to plan my revenge, but I couldn't plan much. I was going through the house. The parents were on a holiday if I understood correctly. So I had time to find out a bit more about their life

I was exploring the house when I found Devon here, playing videogames in his room. He was playing just in his shorts. His shirtless body showed his tense muscles as he was getting really into the game

This could be it. I don't have to possess the parents. I could have my revenge from his body. And it would be kind of poetic justice. My life ended when I was 21, if I possess their sons body and take away his life it would be a perfect revenge. Of course, I would still have to interrupt the killing of the parents.

Now or never. Revenge awaits

I sunk into him. His controller fell on the ground, the inactivity making him loose. He was really tough. Maybe I should have practiced the possession on someone weaker, but I couldn't risk that I would stay in that body and couldn't get my revenge.

We fought for an hour. His body contorting on the couch, sweat dripping from everywhere. His socks wet. Fuck yeah! I can feel His feet already. I moved them. They were mine! This little moment of win gave me enough power to push and place Devon in the back of his mind. I could still hear him. He was begging me to stop. Begging to let go. But no. This is my body now.

"I... I am Devon" I said with a mischievous smile. I looked down at the sweaty body. My enormous arms searched the trail of sweat. I flexed them. I could feel how tired Devon got from the possession. Hell, I was tired.

But I had much to do. Revenge couldn't wait. Then my eyes trailed the abs I now possessed. "Maybe revenge can wait"

My new hand got very close to my waitsband. I lifted it up to find a beautiful uncut 8inch dick

"Daaamn son, you're packing"

I got hard and wanted to jerk off right there. This beautiful thing can't be left unattended. But I got really thirsty. The fight left Devon's body in a horrible state.

I went to the kitchen. The only cold thing I found was a can of beer. I chugged it instantly, my new mouth still not used to me didn't respond very well, so most of the liquid poured over my chest right down the trail of my abs.

"Time for shower"

As I was standing in the shower I was in awe and glee. So many years of wondering where my killers were. Years of being a ghost and not enjoying life. Now I have this amazing gift of a body.

As the shower sprayed water over my muscles I jerked off my hard monster with both hands. Furiously and pressing it hard. I hoped that no one else was home today, cause I was screaming in pleasure. So many years without orgasms. I felt Devon in the back of my mind trying to resist it. He felt the pleasure too. But didn't want to let go of the rest of the control he had.

"Don't worry Devon. I'll take care of your body. I don't wanna hurt you. I just wanna hurt your parents"

My big balls had to work overtime. I jerked off three times at that shower. Almost no hot water left for anyone else to shower, but I didn't care. I stepped out, not even cleaning the cum on the glass and the floor of the shower

I approached the mirror and with my hand scraped a hit of the fog on the mirror to observe myself.

Damn what a fine specimen I am right now. This is gonna be so amazing

"I can help you" echoed in the back of my mind

"Help with what?" I answered

Devon:"I can help you pass as me more easily to fool my parents so that you can get revenge on them. While you were jerking off I saw your memories. And I also know what my parents do. Or atleast I suspected it for a long time. Now I have proof"

Me:"So I am to believe that you'll just let me be in your body willingly and help me get your parents? How can I trust you that you won't warn them?"

Devon:"You can't. But I can offer you my body. We can share it. I always felt alone in my life and sharing a body with a likeminded person isn't such a bad destiny for myself. I really enjoyed the shower session. And if you give me a tiny bit o lf control I can show you something that you haven't done in your body back then"

I hesitated. All this time it was only about revenge. I never thought about what would happen after. Now I had an amazing body and I could do the right thing. If I would just possess him entirely I wouldn't be better than his parents. I would take his life from him just like they did with me. The co-piloting thing wasn't a bad idea. But what if he rats me out to them?

Me:"Ok, I'm in. I don't want to hurt you kid. But I can't let your parents hurt any more young guys like me. If they are on a killimg spree again we have to stop them"

Devon:"I agree. But they are coming back in a few days and until then, I can show you what you were missing"

I gave him control. He didn't fight, which was a good sign. And now he went back to his room, opening a drawer. It contained sk many sex toys I never even had a chance to know and feel

Devon:"Revenge can wait. It's time to have some fun"

[jyoongim]

I love your stories, they are fantastic and feed my daydreams to a intensely gratifying degree.

I am curious if you would entertain the idea of writing an Alastor and fem reader as battle partners and occasional lovers. She’s a fox demon that has been around for centuries and is very powerful. She is indispensable to him in battle but she helps him take care of his baser urges especially during his rut.

I beg you!

Thank youuuuuu

note: i kept this rather suggestive hehe.

Alastor x Kitsune! Fem Reader

“So what’s with the fox? Didn’t take smiles to be much of a dog person” Angel said to Husker as the black fox trotted past him, walking towards said demon sitting on the sofa, rubbing against his legs before jumping up and curling up in his lap.

Husker shook his head, grumbling “Listen, that’s one thing you don’t want to know about. Trust me” he chugged at his bourbon.

Angel rolled his eyes at the cat demon, “Oh c’mon! Tell me! What do Mr. Fancytalk need with a pet? ” He whined. Husker ignored him, thinking sooner or later the spider will figure it out.

Charlie and Vaggie entered the lobby, overhearing the conversation. Angel turned his sight to Vaggie “Hey Vagina do you know the deal with the strawberry pimp’s pet?”

Vaggie sighed ”When Alastor manifested in this realm it was absolute chaos! some have speculated what unimaginable forces enabled him to rival our worlds most ancient and destructive evils. But one thing for sure, he holds an unpredictable source of danger, the kind we shouldn’t risk getting involved with unless we want to end up erased!” Angel deadpanned “that’s doesn’t really answer my questions toots”

Vaggie pointed towards the red demon, at the black fox “rumor has it the fox is the reason he’s so powerful”

Angel sucked his teeth “Ill believe when I see it”

———————————————————————————-

You napped on the bed of your shared room as Alastor sat out on the balcony enjoying the view of Pentagram City.

A loud BANG! Was heard and suddenly there was a massive hole knocked into the hotel.

A giant blimp was outside the hotel and a snake demon was declaring a fight against Alastor.

Alastor joined Charlie and the others at the entrance of the hotel, very much amused at the pathetic display.

”Who are you?” He asked

”I am the great Sir Pentigous! Your fiercest enemy!…We literally battled last week”

Alastor tilted his head, leaning on his cane “Well you would think I remembered you”

The snake demon hissed and went to charge up his weapons.

”Uuugghh Alastor? Aren’t you gonna do something about him? Aren’t you suppose to protect the hotel or something?” angel asked, hands on his hips. Alastor grinned ”Aah yes” he snapped his fingers.

Thick, inky black smoke billowed from the ground as a thunderous growl was heard.

”Holy fucking hell!”

A Giant beast emerged from the ground and immediately took the bump into its mouth and shook like a dog would a toy.

Several appendages swirled as the beast tore into the machine like it was paper.

The snake demon fell to the ground, trying to back away as the massive black beast snapped its sharp teeth at him,  making him cower.

”now now my dear you’ve done enough” Alastor said, causing everyone to look at him confused?

The black beast huffed before black smoke surrounded it.

Walking out of the smoke, holding the snake demon was a…

”THE FOX???!!” Angel exclaimed

You dragged the demon by his hood, baring your sharp teeth at him as he cowered behind Charlie.

You frowned at Alasto as you turned to him, ears flattening

You hands were at your hips as your tails swirled behind you “You woke me up for that?! Please at least let it be a challenge next time”

Alastor snickered as he pulled you into his side,  grin turning Cheshire as you nuzzled him anyway.

Everyone had a puzzled look on their face.

The cute black fox that often roamed the hotel was actually a demon?!

”told you would have found out sooner or later” Husker said.

”A-Alastor w-what?” Charlie stuttered, as Vaggie barged through pointing her spear at you and Alastor.

Your eyes narrowed as you stood in front of Alastor, growling at her, claws flexing in case she made a move. Your tails spiked.

”I wouldn’t do that if I were you” Alastor grinned, peaking through one of your tails

”This darling of mine is that ‘unpredictable source of choas’. Isn’t she a doll?”

————————————————————————————-

“Soooo you two are like a thing? How the fuck? What he own your soul or something?” Angel asked sipping his martini.

You smirked.

You had been with Alastor for a while now. You met the red deer when he first came to hell. He was running a muck in your territory, taking away the souls that you enjoyed tormenting. You, the ‘Kitsune Demon’, would not be intimidated by some newbie. So you fought Alastor. 

Who won? No one knows but many often saw the Radio Demon entering and existing your domain without consequence afterwards.

You and the Radio Demon had a very simple relationship. Your ancient power gave him legitimacy in status as well as your presence on his arm.

You were his best weapon in a battle and a great companion.

You might have looked scary, but only the lanky demon had seen you in your most vulnerable state.

You looked so pretty taking his cock and covered in cum.

”No he doesn’t own my soul and a thing? If you mean I warm his bed and keep him in check for the most part? Then yes” you said bluntly, making the spider gawk.

”you fuck that? That makes a lot of sense now” angel mumbled.

Speaking of fucking, you sniffed at the air. Alastor’s rut was approaching. You had to take care of that.

You left the confused spider as you disappeared in a smoky mist.

”Did you know those two get freaky?” angel turned to Husker, making the cat roll his eyes.

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k

Summary: You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you. Or The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything 👀

A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings 😅 and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on. I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k words🙄sorry about that👀* As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.

P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy! I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye 😘

P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. 🤍

Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

You’re not sure anymore. Maybe you’re just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if you’re a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity can’t quite pull you down. Every time you feel like you’re finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.

Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.

Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.

Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.

Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

You never thought you’d enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you can’t quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.

The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, there’s always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full day’s work that accompanies your body when night comes.

Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.

Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.

It’s almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that you’re still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.

Then you remember.

You know why this is happening and who’s responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckin’ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. It’s relentless.

This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you can’t lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something you’re owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.

You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you can’t. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didn’t make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.

Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. He’s probably moved on. You don’t cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.

But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity that’s hanging by a thread.

You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

It’s early in the evening and you’re in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the day’s work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.

You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.

There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.

You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear he’s holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.

He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.

Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.

Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, it’s me.

No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, it’s me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.

“Did you sign the papers?” you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?

“Uh-”, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.

“It’s nice to see you, too.”, he replies with mild mockery.

Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, “Are you serious right now?” you cross your hands defensively over your chest.

You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.

You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.

“Hey,” Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, “hi.”

You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, “Hi.” is all you give him, still not looking at him.

“Hi,” he repeats, “it’s really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.”, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You don’t comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you don’t correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.

Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. “You look...” he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, “you look really good.” He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do any of that.

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?

His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-

“Did you sign the papers, Joel?”, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.

“No.” and now it’s his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.

“Joel!”, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.

“No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. “I thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,” his voice wavers slightly, “that I need to respect your wishes. It’s the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, I’m gonna sign it.”

You don’t reply to that last part, only pointing out that “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

“Then why are you here?” you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.

“Because I owe you an explanation.” is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.

“Joel..” you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you can’t really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like you’re drowning. You want the dam you’ve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but there’s just so much of it, of everything, that you’re terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping what’s left of you into something new, unrecognizable?

And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What you’ll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your trance, “No, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but that’s the least I can do. And I wanna do that while I’m still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then I’m gonna sign anything you want me to.”

“And if I don’t wanna hear what you have to say?”

“Then I’ll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.” Joel confesses in all his honesty.

You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.

You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didn’t invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. “I just like it out here, it’s calm and-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be..” he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.

It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you can’t help it, it’s embedded in your DNA. “It’s OK, Joel, I don’t mind, we can talk.”

Joel nods, but he remains silent. You don’t break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you don’t look that mighty to me anymore.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didn’t sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.

His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.

“You know, my therapist warned me about this.”, he chuckles bitterly.

“Your-” you can’t hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. “You’ve been in therapy?”

“Yeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,” he chuckles deprecatingly, “and then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. “OK, somebody’s off to a good start. Go on.”

“You mean about the therapy?”

“I mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prick”, you say playfully.

He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. “You can thank Maria for that.”

“For what?”

“For kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.” Joel admits. “She’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, she is.” you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joel’s ass is priceless.

“I missed that sound.” Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.

“Hm.” you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like it’s irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.

You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. “I thought you’d be mad at me.” Joel reveals.

You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. “Four years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you don’t have that kind of power over me.”

“Good. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..”, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.

How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that you’ll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, you’re not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. You’re mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt he’s ever caused you.

“So, what did your therapist warn you about?”

“She, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.”

“Oh? What did she say?”

“That I should not be prepared.”, he laughs in earnest. “That I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.”

“I like her, already.” you say with a straight face.

He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. “Yeah… I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.”

“Anything you wanna share?” you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.

“Oh, boy-” he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Joel?”

His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. “The worst part has already happened four years ago, so-” you shrug, “just breathe.” Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldn’t have touched him at all.

“I think- I think I understand now.” he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. “How I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.”

You look at him, confused. Joel continues, “You always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.”

You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.

Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. “Fuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatin’.”

Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joel’s mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. “Go on.”, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.

“I don’t want to sound all full of myself-” Joel hesitates.

“You won’t.” you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like you’re finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You’re ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.

“I was your everything.” he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You don’t respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.

“You were.” Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

“Hmhm.”, you don’t trust the stability of your voice.

“And no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-” his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, “I disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.”

His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. “The words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldn’t take the pain away; what’s done, is done.”

He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. “I don’t know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I can’t. I can’t wish that, because I’m so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.” He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.

It feels genuine, because he’s not directing it at you, he’s not trying to convince you, he’s not trying at all. “I have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-” his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.

“Look, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally weren’t.”, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesn’t have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken you’ve been.

But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain he’s put you through, won’t all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?

“But, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.”

“It certainly fed your ego..” you grin at him.

“No, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.”

“Well I didn’t do much of a job then, did I?” you smile defeated.

“No, honey, this-” he’s determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, “-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..”

You shake your head dismissively, “It’s a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-”

“But you see, baby, that’s the thing. You didn’t.”Joel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldn’t feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what he’s saying? You didn’t love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. “You-” god this is so hard, he’s struggling, can’t he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? “You loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.” His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?

“Darlin’,” he expands further, “we live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. That’s how fucked up I am.” you look at him dumbfounded.

“I can’t connect the dots; I don’t get it, Joel, I’m sorry, I-” you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?

Joel winces mid-sentence because he can’t escape what’s coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesn’t even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.

“She made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.”,

he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you won’t even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. You’re so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.

“Let me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-” Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.

Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.

“She- what?” are the only words you manage to choke out.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-” your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, “I know- I know how that sounds- just-” his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.

“A means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?” the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.

“It was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.”

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.

“Are you-, oh god,” you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, “are you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuck’s sake, you fuckin’ cliché of a man, because I wasn’t jealous of you?”. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.

You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. “It’s my fault, everything is my fault-”

Joel is frozen in place, he’s not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. He’s witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, “That’s the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,” he tries to explain in vain, “I’m sorry if that’s what I-” but you’re not listening to a single word he utters.

“People kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;” and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, “I should be more controlling, more pushy, more..” your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. “They warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.”

Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

“But I didn’t listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?” You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.

Maria’s words come back to Joel’s mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”

“I was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that you’d be any different? You’re just- you’re just another man-” you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?”

Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didn’t even begin to imagine would cross your mind.

“Did you use her?” you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.

Joel’s cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? “Yes, I never had any feelings f-”

“No,” you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, “that night, did you use her? On purpose?”

Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and “NO! No baby, I wasn’t even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Don’t even entertain this idea; it wasn’t intentional, I swear to god.”

Oh. There’s a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, “Did you- did you know?”

“What?” you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.

“Did you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?”

You’re still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, “Of course I didn’t know, Joel, did it look like I did?” is all you say with a bite, annoyed.

“Then why-” Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“I- fuck- I need a minute.” you declare and start to walk towards the house.

Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.

And you certainly delivered.

He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.

“I can’t do this-”

“Please,” his whole face contorts in agony, “please, hear me-” you both speak at the same time.

“-tonight.”

“What?” his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

“I-” he doesn’t know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?

But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. “I came all this way-” he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.

“Well, too bad.” you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.

Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didn’t check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.

The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

So, every day he texted you. He didn’t mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.

You denied him for quite some time. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldn’t wrap your head around what you’d heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldn’t he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?

You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didn’t give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-

Can we talk?

Yes.

Joel’s heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.

That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You weren’t sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You weren’t even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.

When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.

“Come on in, I’m cooking dinner.” you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.

“Are you sure?”, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didn’t give him much of a choice.

You’re wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a man’s shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another man’s shirt?

You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you quirk back at him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, what you’re both doing. “I’m starving. Coming?” you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.

“You have a beautiful home.”, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

“What?”, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. “I'm serious, the light is just right, it’s open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.” he says matter-of-factly.

“No, no, I know you mean it, it’s just- I guess it’s high praise, coming from you.” you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.

“Oh, come on, none of that now.” he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.

“Well it’s true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and that’s a fact.”

“Which one?”, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.

“The one we used to live in, together.” You can’t call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like it’s on fire.

“Oh.”, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, “You mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.”

“Hm.”, is all you give him. Déjà vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.

“Ok, now you really have to tell me. What is it?”, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.

“What do you mean?”, you try to buy some more time, cause you’re not so sure you want to go in there.

“You had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.”

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“It’s just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.”

Joel looks at you perplexed.

“I’m not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?” you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, “I would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didn’t have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.” Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.

“Baby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-”

“Joel, I’m not judging you. I am not. But you didn’t show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didn’t ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.”, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. “Again, I’m not judging you and I’m not being ungrateful, all I’m saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.”

“Jesus..” Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.

“Hey,” you give him a wry look, “I tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.” you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.

“What else do I need to know?”, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.

“Well.. for how long can you keep coming back?” you joke absentmindedly.

“For the rest of my life..” Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. “You know,” you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, “sometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.” You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. “Anyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.” you grin mischievously.

“Yeah, I did.”, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But you’re not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.

“Good, that’s good. Let me guess, you’re all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?” you word vomit to cover your nervousness.

“Uh,” Joel rubs the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t know.” is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.

“Um, you don’t know?”, you laugh lightly in confusion. “How is that possible?”, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.

“I’m not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;” Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, “I quit. Sold my shares and got out.”

“Yeah,” you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, “right. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-” you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. “You’re joking, right?” You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.

Joel shakes his head in denial, “I’ve actually left the city and the only reason I haven’t sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. They’re all yours if you want ‘em.” Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.

You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. “I know you don’t want anything from me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.”, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.

“You can do that yourself, Joel.” is all you say; you don’t give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.

You’re curious where he lives now, but you’re not sure it’s appropriate to ask, so you don’t. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.

It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re eating?” Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “no, I mean, what are we doing?” he gestures with his fingers between him and you.

You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that you’re trying to stretch time? How do you admit that you’re scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that you’re not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.

How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because that’s what the mind does, that’s how it protects you, that’s how it helps you survive another day, that’s how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that you’re afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?

Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?

Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?

You’re spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. “Baby?” his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.

You let out a shuddering breath; it’s the first time he’s touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. He’s pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joel’s face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.

You let him, because you are a weak person.

You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.

You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.

You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.

You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.

And even though your mind knows that you shouldn’t want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.

“Joel, I’m tired.” you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. “Tired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know there’s too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I can’t go on like this.”

There’s a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks he’s reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.

You don’t need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.”, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.

“Remember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. “What about it?”

“You came to me for sex.”, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.

You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. You’ve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if you’re talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it, but- yeah..”, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.

Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. “And I refused you.” The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. “What happened next?” is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? “I don’t remember.” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.

“You said you loved me and then you left.”, Joel reminds you.

“You- you remember all that?”, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.

“I can’t seem to forget anything about you,” he reveals, “believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Uh.. why did I do what?”, you narrow your eyes in confusion.

His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.

“Loved you?” He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.

“Walked away?” You’re fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, you’re not sure you spoke out loud.

“Why didn’t you insist?”

Your mouth is wide open, you’re speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.

“You refused” you remind him now, “and I respected that.”, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.

“I didn’t want you to.”

“You know how that sounds, don’t you?”, you mock with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, please,” Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, “like you could ever force yourself on me.”

You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.

Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. “I wanted you to-”, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?”, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You don’t want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesn’t work then he’ll poison you, slowly and persistently.

“From who? You were supposed to be mine!”, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself “-not that I owned you, you know what-”

“That! That’s what I’m talking about!” Joel points his finger at you, “That’s what I needed. To be yours!”

“But you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!”

“I swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.”

“I- I tried so hard to control myself-” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, “-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-”

“What?” is Joel’s turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?

“You,” you point a finger at him, “you were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasn’t even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..” you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, “So, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.”

“Oh, baby..” Joel’s hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didn’t matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mirror his thoughts with your voice.

“What should I say to you? I couldn’t put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?”

Joel’s palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.

“A r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.”

“You asked me that before, darlin’, I promise you I did not.”

“Then how would you provoke me if you didn’t mean for me to find out?” you look at him incredulously.

“I-” Joel winces, “it wasn’t a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-” Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckin’ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.

Him.

What a sick fuck he was. “I swear to you, no. I’m not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckin’ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-” he’s biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I was just being an idiot.”

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, ‘snothing.” and he doesn’t elaborate. “Just a bad fuckin’ week.”

The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesn’t quite work. There’s a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.

“Strange fantasies we both had.” you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. “You kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-”.

“It wasn’t an affair-” Joel corrects you. “Fine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; that’s how deep I needed you inside me, that’s how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isn’t that totally fucked up?” you laugh dejectedly.

“I guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..”

“Did you really feel that I didn’t love you enough?” you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.

“I think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,” Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, “in our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.”

“You were always so patient with me. You’d always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasn’t so self-absorbed I would have asked.”

You never thought you’d hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one you’d always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.

“Maybe-” he closes his eyes looking pained, “maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.”

His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. There’s nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.

Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.

“You know I would give anything to take it all back, right?”

Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I do.”, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, “You did that backwards, too, you know.”

“What?”

“You have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean it’s- it’s-” you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.

“Ridiculous..”

“I was gonna say pointless.. But that’s the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise it’s just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.”

“Trust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.”

“Joel, it was never about trusting you..”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

“I’m not sure how to explain it- uh..”, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. “Trust is a personal journey. ‘Trust’ doesn't mean ‘trust in you’, I’m not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. ‘Trust’ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..” you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, “look at me, Joel..”, you finish, suggesting that you’re still here, still standing.

“I am, baby; I am..” Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time he’ll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.

“I’m not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I can’t get that scene out of my head. I just can’t. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.”

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

“I know.”, his voice is barely audible.

“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself. Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”

“Do you?” Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?

You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, “You have to forgive yourself, Joel, it’s okay.” Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.

“I can’t do that.”, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.

“Yes, you can.” you urge him again. “As I can and do.” Let him go.

Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t deserve them. He hasn’t earned them. “You forgive me?”, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

“I- You can’t- I don’t- I don’t deserve that.” Joel feels like he’s drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.

“I can’t be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I can’t be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?” you ask him honestly.

“I don’t want to presume, but- isn’t it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?” you search his eyes for an answer but he doesn’t give you one.

You continue, hoping to get through to him. “Your feelings are your burden Joel and it doesn’t matter if I forgive you. That’s why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.”

His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.” is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.

You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He can’t quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.

You’re just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows what’s troubling him.

I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume.

His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.

“I’ve been with you for the last four years.”

“Excuse me?” your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.

“You said you didn’t want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.”

“Joel,” you blush shyly, “this is none of my business, you are free-”

“No. No. I need you to know this, it’s important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-”

“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.

“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”

“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”

Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.

“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”

Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.

Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.

Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.

Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.

You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.

Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.

You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.

“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”

He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.

“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.

“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.

Oh.

“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

previous |

Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre @leggtostandon @sarahhxx03

@zliteraturehoe @msmorningstaarr @gossipgirl-03 @vabeachazn @joeldjarin

@sofiparallel

[builtbybrokenbells]

Little Miss Sunshine | JTK

Amidst a night of high emotion, one single confession turns your whole world upside down, making you realize that you had a certain someone misunderstood all along.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 26k (oops)

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f&m receiving), (sort of) face fucking, cum play, rough sex, also sweet sex, katoptronophilia (mirror sex), mentions/phrases pertaining to free use kink, dom/sub, possessiveness, praise, degradation, name calling, impact play, biting, sir kink, mentions of masturbation (f&m), multiple orgasm (m&f), simultaneous orgasm, overstimulation, begging, lots of dirty talk, lots of making out, dry humping, angst, unrequited feelings, feelings of not being good enough/rejection, overthinking, emotional talks, asshole Jake, drunk confessions, arguing, awkward small talk/conversations, fighting, non-sexual name calling, fluff, drinking, smoking, swearing, crying, sorry if i miss any!

heard you guys wanted some grumpy x sunshine love (this is also kind of bordering enemies to lovers) 🤔 also, this picture is EXACTLY what I picture Jake as in this fic. I was gonna wait to post but I was too excited to work on some other stuff coming very soon 😉. I hope you guys enjoy! As always, be kind and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (very lightly edited)

“And then I said to him, try that shit around here, and you’ll see how it works out for you.” The tall blonde man spoke, his tone grating and growing more annoying by the second. He had an irritating smile on his lips as he continued trying his best to impress you with another, mind-numbing story.

“Right,” you nodded, swirling your straw around your drink, trying to sound more interested than you actually were. As you tried to think of something to say, you sucked a sharp breath in through your teeth, letting your eyes dart around the room in search of a familiar face. “I’m sure he kept to himself after that.” You finally replied, trying to up the ante and lessen the impact of your monotone response.

“Yeah, I love messing with the new guys at work. Always keeps them on their toes.” He said, taking a sip of his beer as he looked over your face. As he lowered the bottle from his lips, he seemed to lean even closer than he already was, making you force yourself backwards.

You had no idea how you found yourself in the situation, stuck in conversation with a mediocre man about his mediocre job (which you still weren’t quite sure what it even was) and desperate to find a quick way out. You had come to the stupid party for one reason, and so far, you hadn’t seen him once, despite it being hosted at his own house. As you scanned the crowd for the millionth time, you found yourself growing more impatient than you already were. Your foot tapped against the ground as you checked your watch, wondering if you were already in too deep or if you could slide out the front door without being noticed.

Then, a wave of relief washed over you as you caught sight of a familiar head of brown hair. You threw back the last of your drink, placing the empty cup on the table as you scrambled to refill it with the premixed bottle you brought in your bag. You fumbled with the cap you’d screwed on too tight while listening to the man across from you ramble about an office staff party he’d attended last week, eventually prying it from the top of the juice jug after a moment's struggle. You tipped it forward, filling the solo cup and snatching it off the table after you shoved the jug back in your bag.

You had never seen your best friend's house so full; people were crowding the hallways, nearly standing on top of each other as they tried to force their way into the rooms overflowing with bodies. The music was astonishingly loud, and you definitely weren’t drunk enough to enjoy it yet. Worse than that, you barely recognized a single face in the crowd, and you were desperate to find someone you knew.

“Anyway, it was nice getting to know you, Johnny. I see Sam over there, so I better go say hi.” You forced a blinding smile, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder as you tried to map out the best way around him.

“J-Johnny?” He asked, confusion written all over his face. “My name is Jimmy.” He corrected, his ego bruised at your lack of interest in him.

“Oh, shit.” You swallowed back an awkward laugh, biting down on the inside of your lip as you shuffled to the side. “Jimmy, Johnny… same thing, really. See you around?” You offered, knowing there was no way you would ever allow yourself to be alone with him again, unless you spent days sleepless and were desperate to find something that would lull your mind and force your eyes shut.

You didn’t wait for a response, instead pushing through the crowd as quickly as possible so you didn’t lose sight of your target. With your drink clenched tightly to your chest, you fought your way through the swarm of bodies that seemed keen on blocking the doorway. You extended your arm outward, your fingers brushing over the thin material of Sam’s long sleeved shirt as you grabbed onto his shoulder. His head whipped around, wondering who was touching him and why they were in such a panic to catch his attention. When his eyes landed on you, a blinding smile lit up his face.

“Hey, I was looking for you! Didn’t think you’d make it, Knockout.” He stopped in his tracks, completely changing course and turning towards you. He took a step in your direction, extending his arms outwards and engulfing you in a hug. You breathed a sigh of relief, letting the scent of his familiar cologne wrap you in an embrace warmer than the one his arms provided.

“I’m the guest of honor, ‘course I made it.” You rolled your eyes, pulling away from him slightly. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”

“You’re always the guest of honor at my house.” He grinned, letting his hand linger over your back as he looked over your face. You noticed right off the bat that he reeked of alcohol. His eyes were glazed over, soft and dark as his expression spoke loudly of all you needed to know. He was hammered, and you were very late to the party. “And I think knockout is fitting. A ten who will knock me on my ass if I say the wrong thing.”

“I’d like to be equated to more than a ‘ten’ with a bad temper.” You laughed, slouching down slightly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t call it a bad temper… more or less a ‘fuck around and find out’ type of person.” He explained further, pulling you tightly into his side as he began to weave through the crowd.

“Yeah, I guess that fits.” You hummed an agreement, happy that you were safely by his side so you no longer had to wander aimlessly and get caught in conversation with people you didn’t know.

“It’s way more crowded than I thought it would be.” Sam noted, talking loud enough so you could hear him over the boom of voices and music.

“Yeah, I certainly wasn’t expecting this.” You laughed, honest about your feelings on the matter. When he invited you, he failed to mention that he invited the entire city of Nashville to the party alongside you.

“Yeah, guess I overestimated the size of the place.” He chuckled. “We’re hanging out downstairs, less crowded and a bit more comfortable.” He said, leading you around the corner to the stairwell. There were a few people standing in the way of the stairs, but they dispersed pretty quickly when they realized the two of you were trying to make your way through.

Sam was your best friend, and had been for years. You met not long after he moved to the city, when you were still in college and keen to the party lifestyle. Through mutual friends, you found yourself sitting in front of him at an album release party for a band that no longer existed, sharing your sentiments about the mediocre music and your love of tequila. From there, the two of you formed a fast friendship, finding you had more in common than a knack for drinking and appreciation for music. You weren’t expecting such a strong relationship to come from a drunken night orchestrated by friends who couldn’t have cared less about you, but you were incredibly grateful that you decided to go.

Since then, you and Sam did nearly everything together when he wasn’t gone on tour. Once you graduated, you found that you lost contact with most people from your university days, but it never seemed to bother you, because Sam was always around to do that, instead. When you were holed up in your house, working from your laptop and too busy to go anywhere, Sam sat beside you, commenting on anything and everything that came to mind. You guys frequented the bars around town, and got lunch when your schedules permitted. Oftentimes, you found yourself dozing off on his couch after a movie night with no intent of staying the night and waking up the next morning with a blanket over you and a pillow under your head.

He was the best friend you’d ever had, and you were thankful for his love every single day. You loved him so much that you couldn’t even refuse his invitations to parties where you knew nobody but him and his brothers, and most times you were glad you went, just so you had another memory to share with him. That night was no different; he was throwing a party just for the sake of it, inviting friends he’d made in the industry and drinking for the sake of being drunk. When he asked you to come, you gave a hesitant reply, knowing that you were bound to be awkwardly standing amongst a swarm of strangers. Within a few days, he’d convinced you it was alright, and eventually you gave in.

That afternoon, you spent an extra amount of time making yourself look nice. You went out the day before and got your hair touched up, and you even bought a new dress. You were feeling a little down, finding yourself in quite the romantic draught that worsened your loneliness as time went on. When you expressed such feelings to Sam, he seemed to make it a point to set you up with some of his company and promised that tonight would end the embarrassingly long bout of involuntary abstinence. Although you were nervous about his choice of company for you, you opened yourself up to the idea, knowing that you wouldn’t have much luck on your own.

It wasn’t that you were deliberately choosing to abstain from dating, but you were having a particularly hard time finding anyone who met your standards and more importantly, your needs. You were growing sick and tired of modern dating, and despised dating apps and all that came along with them. You weren’t in search of a hookup, and you weren’t looking for marriage tomorrow. You wanted someone who you could have fun with, to get to know without it being overwhelming and too much too fast. You wanted someone suitable for your mid-twenties; exciting, compatible, and loyal. Unfortunately, that seemed to be quite hard to come by.

You knew you had a lot to offer. You were kind, funny, and sometimes too nice for your own good. At the same time, you didn’t put up with any bullshit, which made it incredibly hard to open yourself up to someone. You could easily tell when someone only wanted sex, and people like Johnny (or Jimmy; whatever the hell his name was) made it abundantly clear. His lack of self-awareness and his commitment to getting closer to you despite there being no invitation to do so turned you off of him from the minute he began to speak.

On the other hand, because of your guard being up, oftentimes you read a little too much into the situation and ruined things before they could even begin. You were at an impasse, and such a large one that you enlisted Sam’s help to find you a suitor. You were an overly nice person who’d been burned too many times, and you were (as some would say) picky. You barely trusted his judgment, but you figured that you would at least try and open yourself up to his ideas, because you certainly weren’t getting anywhere by yourself.

“You know, I figured that tonight might be a good night for you and Jake to get to know each other.” Sam stated, nearing the bottom of the stairs.

“Jake?” You asked, confused as you followed behind him. You pulled down the skirt of your tight fitting dress, carefully stepping down on the cool wooden floor as you passed the bottom step. “Like, your brother who’s barely given me any inclination that he knows I exist?” You asked, bewildered that Sam would even suggest that. “And when he does, he looks like he’d rather be with anyone else rather than with me?”

“Oh, come on. That’s not true.” Sam chuckled, turning back to face you now that you were on solid ground. The basement was much less crowded than the upstairs, just like Sam had told you. It was nice, allowing you to actually sort out your thoughts before your head was pulled into another direction.

“It is so!” You laughed, taking his response with a grain of salt. You didn’t have complete certainty that Jake felt that way about you, but he definitely didn’t make it a point to try and be friendly. “I get along so well with Josh and Danny, and then there’s him. He never talks to me, and he basically ignores me when I speak first. When he does answer, it’s like, one or two words, and never any kind of emotion. I don’t think he likes me, and that’s fine, but I definitely don’t think we should ‘get to know each other’.”

“The other day you guys talked about the weather!” Sam argued his point, only making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, the weather, Sam. You know, like the most basic of small talk that exists?”

“He seemed really passionate about the sun.” Sam shrugged, reaching out and placing a hand on your back. “Just give it a shot. You never know, right?”

“Sam, if that’s who you’re trying to set me up with, you’ve officially gone insane.” You muttered, letting him guide you towards the group of people huddled by his large arrangement instruments.

“Not insane, and I mean it, Y/N. I think you guys would really get along if you got past the weather. It’s not that you don’t like each other, you’ve just never tried that hard, and neither has he.”

“Yeah, because I’m pretty sure he hates me!” You whisper-shouted, nearing the chattering crowd.

“That’s a strong word,” Sam said, clearly trying to put an end to the argument. “Besides, I already asked him to talk to you tonight, so I guess there’s no real way out of it.” He shrugged, a sly smile forming on his lips as he began to walk away from you.

“Sam!” You exploded, reaching forward and grabbing his hand to hold him in place. “Why would you do that? Now he’s going to feel pressured into talking to me!”

“Listen, Y/N.” he sighed, his lips still holding a ghost of a smile. “Jake won’t feel pressured into talking to you. If he really doesn’t want to, he won’t. Jake does not hate you, and Jake knows you exist. He’s just not the most outgoing. Once he’s out of his shell, I promise you’ll understand what I mean.” You could tell that Sam was genuine in his response, much different to the lighthearted jokes that he spewed prior. You didn’t want to be the bad guy and tell him that you thought his brother was an asshole, so instead you shifted uncomfortably under his strong gaze and gave a single nod of your head.

If Sam wanted you to try so bad, you would, but only because Sam was your best friend.

In truth, it wasn’t like you never thought of Jake in that way. In fact, you thought about it more often than you cared to admit, but you would have been caught dead before confessing it aloud. Most of the fantasies of Jake were contained within your bedroom walls, in the late hours of the night and earliest hours of the morning, and it had little to do with conversing with him and certainly not anything romantic.

Jake was attractive, and that was undeniable; he drew attention from the crowd the minute he walked in the room, and eyes never strayed from him until the moment he walked out. His long hair and his beautiful brown eyes made for a deadly combination, and the slight rasp to his tone when he spoke low and slow sent a rush of emotion straight to the pit of your stomach. The pinkness of his lips, especially when they glistened after his tongue ran over the bottom one, was delicious, and you were all but ignorant to that. He did not talk often, not nearly as much as his company, but when he did, it was always worth listening to, whether it was a joke or something insightful.

Jake's physical appearance had little to do with your apprehensions. If anything, it made you more willing to try out what Sam was asking of you. Although he’d never been outright mean to you, Jake had solidified his impression in your mind over the years; curt, dry, and a little judgemental. His micro expressions that seemed to go unnoticed by everyone else spoke louder than words to you, and he never seemed like he wanted to interact with you at all. He sat on the opposite side of the room from you, avoided your group-pointed topics and questions, avoided being alone with you at all costs, and got out of every one on one conversation with you as fast as he could.

Oftentimes you felt like he was watching you, studying you so he could find something he didn’t like, so then he could be crude and unapologetic about it. His eyes always seemed to land on you as the nights dragged on, and the drunker he got, the more often he stared, but he never spoke. If he wasn’t so attractive, his actions may have been more off putting than curious to you, but even if you felt like he hated you, you definitely didn’t mind his attention being on you.

He was more gruff than Sam and Josh combined, and his resting expression was not the most inviting. He joked with his brothers, but not you directly. Although, whenever he said something to gain a laugh, his eyes always flickered to you, as if he was looking to see if you thought he was funny, too. He was a mystery, but not one you wanted to solve. Every interaction with him led you to believe he was not a fan of you, and every time you tried to analyze it, you only ever found yourself believing it ran even deeper than that.

Still, he was fucking hot, and you hated yourself for being so attracted to someone who couldn’t care less about you.

You followed behind Sam, your cheeks red as you bargained with your embarrassment over the situation. What did Sam actually say to Jake? Was it as innocent as he framed it, or did it go beyond the minimal information he gave you? You weren’t sure you wanted to know, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to speak to Jake at all. In your years of friendship with Sam and the hundreds of times you had been around him, he had never been nice, and you were fairly certain he wouldn’t start now.

You wanted to believe Sam’s explanation of Jake, that he was just a tough nut to crack and you had never been fully committed to knowing him, but it just didn’t seem to check out. You were sure by now, Jake would have shown some idea that he didn’t mind you, or at least that he didn’t hate you, but there was nothing.

Well, except for one small little thing, but it was so long ago that you were sure he’d long forgotten about it.

“Woah, sorry!” Jake exclaimed as the door swung itself open. He took a step back, recoiling from the scene as if he’d just walked in on something explicit and was trying to avoid the awkwardness.

“No, it’s okay.” You muttered, closing your eyes and taking in a deep breath. This interaction was the last thing you wanted to experience in such a state, and you could only look forward to his standoffish nature worsening your already solemn state.

You had changed from your party clothes, the nice new jeans and shirt your sister had bought you for your birthday, which was the whole reason Sam threw you the damn party in the first place. You were in shorts and a t-shirt that hung just above your knees, your face tired and tear-stained as you made a quick move to wipe the dampness from your cheeks. “S’all good, Jake. You can have the bathroom.” You spoke again, a little clearer. The rasp of sadness in your tone was impossible to ignore, and even in his drunken state, he seemed to pick up on it.

You hated your birthday, and you hated that Sam insisted on throwing you a party for it. You wanted to leave, to go home after seeing everyone having such a great time while you were so miserable, but you were too drunk to drive and you would have felt terrible for abandoning Sam when he’d worked so hard to plan this all for you. The gathering was small, filled with people you loved dearly, and drinks were plentiful. Sam went all out with food, decorations, and dessert. You’d never had such an extravagant cake in your life, and you owed him everything for caring about you so much. You were so ashamed of your misery that you felt the need to hide in the bathroom while you cried, just so you didn’t hurt his feelings.

You weren’t sad because of the party, or even because of your birthday in itself. You were upset about the fact that no matter how hard you tried to have fun, something always happened that seemed to ruin the whole day, and this time was no different.

“You okay, Y/N?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing together as he tried to read the situation. You barely looked up at him, feeling another wave of tears well in your eyes. He smelled so distinctly of whiskey, and his normal tough exterior slackened into something you could almost relate to relaxed.

“Yeah, fine.” You nodded, taking a step towards the doorway and expecting him to recoil when you neared him.

“Clearly not, sweetheart.” The pet name struck you as odd, the confusion growing even worse as he stepped in front of you to stop your attempt at escaping. “You’re crying, up here all alone on your birthday. Talk to me.” You finally looked up to meet his face, noticing your body flood with an unfamiliar feeling. There was a type of care in his face that you had never seen from him before, and it made your entire body raise with goosebumps.

“I… I’m alright, I guess.” You said, trying to find a way around confessing your sorrows to him.

“Can I come in?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, sure.” You breathed, nodding and stepping backwards out of his way. Once he was inside the room, he closed the door quietly, leaning against it as he casted his gaze back in your direction. Now that you were locked in a room with him, the smell of alcohol became all the more apparent, and it seemed to be mixed with a sweet scent of an unfamiliar cologne.

“What’s going on?” He asked, standing stagnant by the door as if he was fearful of coming any closer.

“It’s a long story, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. It’s over now.” You shrugged, raising your hand to your face to wipe your face clean of the sadness.

“Is it that guy you were with last time you were here?” He asked, hitting the nail straight on the head without even trying.

“Uh, yeah.” You nodded, surprised he even cared to notice you had company the last time you were around him. Jake had never been overly concerned with your presence, and you barely expected him to care enough to ask if you were alright. “Got in a fight before I came. Said he didn’t have time to come to my ‘stupid birthday party’ with my ‘stupid friends’.” You air quoted the phrases he used, sickened that you even let yourself spend time with someone who thought so little about the people you loved so dearly. “But he wasn’t too busy to party without me, and certainly didn’t mind locking lips with some other girl at the bar.” You explained, remembering the painful picture one of his friends sent through to you. You appreciated the fact that someone was willing to tell you about it, but it didn’t seem to make it hurt any less.

His lips pressed together tightly, the corners turned down into a frown as he digested the information you threw his way. For a second, he seemed as though he wanted to speak, but not long after that he silenced himself before he could get the words out. He swallowed thickly, toying with the ring on his middle finger as he tried his best to think of a response. Eventually, he took a deep breath and spoke words you never expected to hear from him.

“You are far too special to be caught up on someone like that, Y/N.” His tone was strong, leaving no room for doubt that he meant it. “I know it hurts right now, but you have to know that.”

“Thank you, Jake.” You said, your indifference for him melting away momentarily.

“Is it alright if I hug you?” He asked, carefully scanning your face. “Seems like you need it.”

“O-oh,” you breathed, shocked at his question. “Yeah, s’pose I do.” You let out a nervous chuckle. At that, all hesitation left his body and he stepped towards you. Carefully, he pulled you into his arms, his hold firm and the warmth of his body soothing. You let your head rest on his shoulder, trying to ignore the strangeness of the moment and enjoy the comfort. With your face buried in his button-up shirt, you finally had the chance to breathe in the cologne you had only previously caught a faint hint of. It was deep, woodsy and ambery, and it was unfortunately one of the most pleasant things you’d ever experienced.

You could feel his heartbeat, fast and strong as he held you close to him. One hand rested on the back of your head, an extra touch of warmth within his already strange actions. You had never been so close to Jake before, and for some strange reason, you never wanted to let go of him. From the minute he touched you, things seemed okay again, like nothing in the whole world could hurt you so long as he was right beside you.

Just when you felt yourself slipping out of the state of sadness, he pulled away. You found yourself mourning the loss of his touch, sad for a whole new reason as his body parted from yours. He didn’t completely abandon you, though. He let one hand rest on your arm as he used his other to wipe your tears away from your cheeks. With a soft smile, he spoke again.

“Don’t waste your tears on him, sweetheart. When it starts to hurt a little less, you should thank him for it, ‘cause it means someone as great as you won’t be stuck with someone like him.” He paused, ensuring you understood him before he continued. “Now, put a smile on that pretty face and come back downstairs. It’s your day, your friends are down there, and we want you to have a good night. Don’t let him win.”

You thought that maybe after such a sweet moment shared between the two of you, the dynamic might change, that he would warm up to you and a friendship would blossom. Thinking back on your hopefulness, you wanted to laugh in your own face. If anything, after the bathroom escapade, he grew even more distant. He stopped looking at you as often, avoiding your eyes when you looked his way and refusing to even let a chuckle slip when you spewed a joke. His already curt responses grew even shorter, and even less friendly. All of the affection he shared with you disappeared, and he acted as if it never happened at all.

You were ridiculous for expecting change, but disappointed still when you understood that he probably didn’t remember the interaction between you. He was drunk, and so were you, and it didn’t mean anything.

Still, no matter how hard you tried to believe it, it still fucking sucked.

You did everything in your power to get that side of him to surface again, but it only seemed to worsen his withdrawl. The nicer you were to him, the more he pulled away. So, eventually you stopped completely. You stopped going out of your way to build a relationship with him, because it was abundantly clear he wasn’t interested in it.

Funny thing is, when you started pulling away, he began to try.

A few weeks after you stopped talking, he went out of his way to ask you how you were. He lingered in rooms after everyone left, trying to remain inconspicuous as he waited for you to speak to him. His eyes landed on you more often than not, watching you carefully as you spoke to everyone else, waiting to see if you would laugh at his jokes. It was as if he missed you talking to him, even if he was the reason you distanced yourself in the first place.

He was so confusing, and you knew it was best to stay out of it. Even if you did think he was ridiculously attractive, he clearly had no clue how to express himself or any emotion whatsoever. The only thing you regularly saw from him was undesirable personality traits, indifference and annoyance most often, and anger at other times. You knew it wasn’t good for you, that you should stay away because you couldn’t get involved with someone so cold, and you did the best you could. Still, you would be the first to volunteer to kiss that damned scowl off his face, and happy to let him take his anger out on you.

The fact that Sam ever thought the two of you would work was absolutely blasphemous, but if Sam wanted you to try, you would at least give it another shot. Even if it was half-assed, you could still say you gave it your all, and he’d probably believe you.

Sam took one of the two available seats on the couches, far away from you and next to Josh. You felt a stab of pain in your chest as you realized he did so for a specific reason. The only seat left in the room was next to Jake, and as you began to approach, you feared he might get up and walk away as soon as your ass touched the cushion. Keeping your body rigid, you stepped over Danny’s long legs, extended outwards as he leaned back in the couch. You carefully stood between the two, letting the strap of your bag fall from your shoulder and it landed in front of you on the floor. As you sat down, you tucked the bag neatly behind your legs and against the frame of the couch. You let out a small breath of relief, noticing Jake didn’t change his stature at all as you took a seat.

‘Step one: complete.’ You thought to yourself, sipping at your drink to calm your nerves.

How ridiculous it seemed to consider sitting next to Jake a victory. The irony only grew as you remembered that Sam thought the two of you would make a good couple.

Jake had an acoustic guitar sat in his lap, tentatively plucking at the strings as he sat on the very edge of the cushion. You couldn’t help but stare, finding his face devoid of any negative emotion almost alluring. He was so pretty when he focused, the way his hair hung in his face and his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. You strained to hear the light sounds coming from the strings, trying your best to ignore the booming music upstairs in hopes to recognize the tune he was playing. You watched as the tips of his fingers danced over the fretboard, delicate and calculated in every move they made.

Then, the soft hum stopped and his finger stretched across the fretboard to stop any lingering resonance. Your eyes flickered from his hand to his face, seeing that he was already looking at you. Your cheeks burned red as you understood he noticed your staring, and you swallowed back an awkward laugh.

“Hey, Jake.” You forced the greeting through your teeth, flashing a smile in his direction in hopes that the sweetness would deter his usual grumpiness with you.

“Hi.” He responded, his eyes trailing down to the solo cup in your hand. His greeting was short, but you counted it as a victory. Some nights, he never bothered to reciprocate at all, shooting you a pained look instead. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, neither of you knowing what to do or what to say. It was uncomfortable, but you forced the negative thoughts from your head and tried your best to think of a conversation starter. When it was clear he would not be the one to initiate, you spoke again.

“What song was that?”

“Who’ll Stop The Rain.” He replied, his stony expression remaining strong as he looked in your direction.

“CCR,” you nodded, embarrassed you couldn’t pick out the tune from memory. “My dad was a big fan of John Fogerty. Used to put us to sleep with the recordings from Royal Albert Hall.”

“Yeah, pretty good stuff.” Jake nodded, slow and stiff as if he would rather be anywhere other than with you. You took in a long breath through your nose, hoping that you could ease the painful tension between the two of you, but knowing it wouldn’t never happen unless he was willing to try, too.

“Yeah, absolutely.” You nodded too, taking a long sip from your cup.

“What’s your favourite song from them?” He asked, the words almost sounding strained as he asked the question. You fought back an eye roll, thinking it was absolutely ridiculous that he was troubled just to speak to you.

“Green River.” You answered, trying to be more enthusiastic than he was. You were happy he asked the question at all, considering it was probably the first thing he’d ever asked in attempt to get to know you, but his reluctance still stung.

“I like that one, too.” He said, his tone gruff but more friendly than it had ever been (save for the off night in the bathroom), even if the classification was a stretch. Then, he turned his head back towards the guitar, cutting the conversation short. You couldn’t help but feel a dissatisfaction with his actions, wondering why he couldn’t even pretend to enjoy a conversation with you, but you didn’t let it linger for too long.

You let out a sigh, turning your head to the other side of you, seeing Daniel’s smiling face. It was refreshing, and it was a relief to see his expression did not fade as soon as he looked your way. His arm was slung over the back of the couch behind you, his ankles crossed and a beer bottle clutched tightly in his hand. You figured he was an easier target, and a much more enjoyable way to spend your time.

“Hello, Daniel.” You gave him a warm smile as you spoke.

“Was wondering when you’d get here, K.O.” He said, flashing you a toothy smile to match your own.

“What did I tell you guys about calling me that!” You scolded, your tone light and your eyes shining with joy to tell him you didn’t really care all that much.

“If the shoe fits.” He shrugged, chuckling as he took a sip from his bottle. “What have you been up to? Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I was away for a little while for work, actually.” You said, knowing you couldn’t get too much into it.

“You were away? That’s never good to hear.” He said, a slight grimace on his face. He was right; in social work, time spent away from your office usually meant something bad.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t anything major. They have a shortage of people a few towns over, so I volunteered to fill in for a little while until they could hire someone. I handled a few cases, but it was mostly just to do some paperwork so they didn’t get overwhelmed. I got back a few days ago.”

“You’re a saint for doing a job like that, you know.” He said, his words genuine and prompting a smile on your lips.

“It’s not the easiest job, but I like it.” You explained. “Someone has to stick up for the kids, you know? If their own parents aren’t doing it… then someone has to.”

You could not see it, but Jake’s head was turned as he sat behind you, his ear facing you so he could hear the words you were saying.

“You must be pretty good at it, too. I remember when Sam and I stopped by your office, it was plastered with drawings and colouring pages. Do you keep everything they give to you?”

“Yeah, I do.” You looked down at your hands as a sheepish smile crossed your face. “They always get so excited when they see it up on the walls, so it makes it worth it. Besides, brightens up my day when I see it, too.” You explained, knowing that you had never really thought twice about it; everything any of your clients gifted you was important to you and deserved a spot up on your bulletin board.

Alongside from Sam, your work was the most important thing to you. It was a part of you, and the only reason you and Sam got along so well is because he understood that. Lots of plans were cancelled or rescheduled at the drop of a dime, but he never cared and never made you feel bad about it. Sometimes, you were up at four in the morning, running out the door to the hospital in the early stages of your friendship, but it never deterred him from spending time with you. When you moved to a private company, things grew a little more relaxed and you had a lot more scheduled appointments rather than emergency appointments, but Sam would have stuck around no matter your situation.

“I mean, today someone gave me a yo-yo.” You said, a grin lighting up your face. “I’ve always wanted an excuse to learn those stupid tricks everyone knew how to do in middle school, and now I can.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see that.” Danny let out a laugh, his shoulders shaking and his eyes crinkled with joy just at the thought of it.

“So what about you? What have you been up to?” You asked, growing tired of talking about you and eager to hear what he’d been up to.

“The same old, really. I went home and visited my family for a few days, so that was nice.” He said, knocking back the last of his drink and grabbing another from the box by his feet.

“That is nice!” You exclaimed, a warm smile encasing your lips. “I know you don’t get to see them all that often, so it must have been really good to go home.”

“It was,” he agreed, nodding at the thought.

“How’s your sister doing? I know she was stressed out about the last semester of school the last time we talked.”

“Good! She passed with no problem, worried about nothing as per usual.” He responded, almost wowed by how much attention you paid to him when he spoke.

“And that girl you were talking to… Sarah?” You asked, nervous you might have gotten the name wrong. He gave a nod, reassuring you that you got it right. “How’s that going?”

“Good! She couldn’t make it tonight, but I think it’s headed somewhere. Hopefully, at least.” He shrugged, trying to make it seem like it was less important to him than it was.

“I’m sure it will. I’m happy for you.” You smiled. Just as he was about to respond, Sam shouted his name from across the table, pulling him in a completely different direction. You didn’t pay much mind to it, settling comfortably back in your seat as Sam resumed an earlier conversation with the boy beside you.

You settled back into your seat, finding yourself content without feeling the need to be caught in conversation. You sipped at your drink, noticing your cheeks begin to turn rosy as the tipsiness started to set in. Your skin was warm, your mind swimming with thoughts that pertained to nothing important. You tucked your foot underneath your knee, relaxing into the position as Sam gave you a reassuring smile across the table. You gave him a small wave in return, finding the mixed drink in your cup taste better the longer you worked at it.

Some time passed, but nothing too interesting ensued. No further words were shared between you and Jake, but you did occasionally find yourself talking across the table with Sam, and a few times you were leaned over close to Danny to hear him over the chattering crowd and loud music. Then, something incredibly familiar reached your ears, the sound soothing as it drifted from the guitar in Jake’s lap and over towards you. The twang was different, a little more calm as he played on the acoustic, but it was still just as good.

Green River.

You turned your head towards him, smiling as you watched his fingers pluck the strings. You bit your tongue, tempted to sing along but knowing it likely wouldn’t help the lingering tension between you and the boy. Your gaze flickered to his face, curious to see his expression as he played the song you very clearly expressed your enjoyment of. To your surprise, he was looking at you, and the usual scowl on his face had softened into an almost smile.

He wanted to know if you liked it, almost excited at the prospect of impressing you with the song.

Perhaps Sam was right, and you hadn’t tried hard enough to get to know him. You weren’t committed enough to getting through the tough exterior, because in that moment, you saw a tiny glimpse of the Jake you saw that night in the bathroom. His eyes were warm, glimmering with curiousity as he continued to strum the tune. Maybe he wasn’t so against knowing you, but rather needed some common ground so he could get his footing.

No matter the reasoning, you could go along with it, because without the cold undertones in his expression, he was a million times more attractive than he’d ever been before. The liquor in your cup was strong, definitely encouraging your thoughts about his pretty face, but as he played a song you remembered from the happiest days of your childhood, it struck something within you that he’d never touched before.

“Sing it.” Jake encouraged, his voice just loud enough for you to hear as he played the intro a second time through. You thought you misheard him, unable to believe he was really initiating such a fun moment that involved both of you, together. Even as you tried to discredit it, his eyes told you otherwise, imploring you to do as he asked.

“Well, take me back down where cool water flow,” you began, knowing your intoxication had everything to do with your courage. You worried that he would change his mind, or regret asking you to do so, but as you finished he played the little riff that followed, a genuine smile beginning to blossom on his lips.

“Let me remember things I love, Lord

Stoppin' at the log where catfish bite

Walkin' along the river road at night

Barefoot girls dancin' in the moonlight.” You sang the verse, growing more comfortable when Sam joined in along the way. By the time you finished the last line, Danny was leaned in close behind you, also belting the lyrics alongside you.

Then, the most shocking part of it all came about when Jake led you back into the second verse. He joined in, happily singing along with the three of you as if it were a completely normal thing for him to do.

“Fuck yeah, Jake!” You exclaimed, seeing his eyes brighten at your drunken cheer. For a single moment, things felt normal. They felt right, with you cheering him on and him trying not to laugh at your antics, like it was meant to be that way all along.

Maybe Sam was right, and the two of you could click well, even after all the time spent ignoring each other.

He led himself into a small guitar solo, seemingly trying to show off as he slammed the pick down on the strings. You clapped along, a blinding smile lighting up your face as you watched him do what he loved most. You couldn’t help but admire how stunning he looked, his pink lips slightly damp from his tongue running over them while he focused. The blush of his cheeks under the lowlight, and his dark lashes casting the tiniest of shadows under his eyes. He was beautiful, and you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from him.

You were so immersed in his enigmatic nature that you failed to sing along with the group when the third verse rounded. Stunned and slightly nervous that someone had caught you amidst the impromptu staring contest, you cleared your throat and joined in with the singing, only slightly less enthusiastic. When the song finished, you were breathless and in a mess of jumbled thoughts, but it had nothing to do with the singing you were doing. Before Jake could say anything to you, you downed the last of your drink, reaching into your bag to refill the cup. You knew you would need the courage, especially now that the relationship between you seemed to hit a pivotal moment.

When you straightened back up in your seat, you sipped from the rim of the cup to lower your chances of spilling it all over yourself. Your eyes flickered to the man beside you, but to your dismay, he wasn’t looking at you at all. The smile faded from your lips as you quickly tried to cover up your growing disappointment, wondering if you were an idiot for thinking the two of you might be more comfortable speaking. You waited for a moment, just to see if he would initiate something, but you were met with nothing once again.

You were an idiot, and for more reason than just that. You were ridiculous for believing that he would be interested with you, in all of his blinding beauty and amidst the rockstar lifestyle. He had girls falling at his feet, prettier and with more to offer than you had. You were breaking your own heart by entertaining the feeble idea Sam planted in your mind, and you needed to realize the truth of the matter.

Still, a small fizzle of hope existed within your chest, and you thought you would give it one last shot.

“That was really good, Jake. Thank you for playing it for me.” You said, keeping your tone sweet and the look in your eyes warm despite the blossoming uncertainty in your stomach.

“What? I didn’t play it for you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth at the speed of light, defensive and with little thought put into them. As if he saw the breaking of your heart before his own eyes, he softened slightly, realizing that his words were too harsh, even for his normal brooding self. “I played it for myself, too. I love that song.” He added, hoping that it would lessen the blow. You could tell he only said it to feel like less of an asshole, and it only worsened your already bruised feelings.

You could feel an unfamiliar feeling rising in your chest, one that craved conflict. You thought that if you handed his rudeness back to him, he’d learn his lesson and realize how terrible he’d been to you over the years of knowing him. You wanted a fight, to figure out the real reason behind his dislike for your company, and you needed it now. If he hated you, you wanted him to come clean and say it. You were sick of trying to start a friendship with someone who only ever made you feel like shit about it.

Then, before the accusations could leave your lips, he spoke again, but you would have preferred him not to say anything at all.

“Heard it’s supposed to be really nice out, tomorrow.” He forced the weather forecast through his teeth, rubbing salt into an already lethal wound.

“Perfect,” your lips pulled together tightly, forcing some semblance of a smile as you nodded your head. “You know, we don’t have to talk about the weather every fucking time we speak, Jake.” He seemed to physically recoil from your nasty tone, seemingly never expecting something even slightly vicious to leave your tongue.

“Okay, what else would you like to talk about, Y/N?” He asked, a hint of condescension in his words. You rolled your eyes, long past furious with his blatant rejection of your presence.

“Maybe one of the fifteen other topics I’ve tried to talk about with you?” You offered the alternative like it never crossed his mind at all. “You know what? Nevermind. Doesn’t matter.” You shook your head, understanding you were preparing to fight a losing battle. When it came to anything negative, Jake was always going to come out on top.

“What, did Little Miss Sunshine finally hit her breaking point? Is this the first time you’ve ever been angry, sweetheart? ‘Cause it wouldn’t fuckin’ surprise me.”

“Fuck off, Jake.” You huffed, leaning forward and grabbing your bag from between your legs. “Like I said, fucking forget about it.”

Just as you did so, Danny leaned towards you in an instinctive reaction to someone playfully pushing him by the arm of the couch. His shoulder collided with your back, causing you to lurch towards Jake and at the same time, your full solo cup to slip from your fingers. As you tried to recover from the strong (and irritatingly painful) collision between your back and Danny’s shoulder, you barely noticed the liquid that had spilled from your hands onto the couch, and unluckily, Jake’s leg.

Before you could process all that happened in such a short time, you heard Danny’s profuse apologies from over your shoulder, but not well over the boom of Jake’s voice.

“Christ, Y/N!” He exclaimed, raising the guitar from his lap as he made a move to stand. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Watch what you’re fucking doing, next time!”

His words, equal to a million stabs in the chest, seemed to snap that little rational part of your brain you tried to desperately hold on to when in his company. Instead of an angry outburst, you felt tears well in your eyes, finally fed up with his irrationally irate attitude towards you. You tried to muster an ‘I’m sorry’, but every time the words began to make their way through your throat, your muscles constricted around them. Instead, you grabbed your things, in a hurry to get out of there and never come back. Before you were on your feet, tears spilled over on your cheeks, and your face felt like it was on fire. Your heart was thumping so fast and hard you could feel it in every part of your body, and your throat ached to cry out.

Why didn’t he like you?

What did you do to deserve such miserable treatment?

Why couldn’t he just pretend to tolerate you, instead of making it blatantly obvious to everyone how much he hated you?

You clutched your empty cup and your bag tightly to your chest as you stepped over Danny’s legs, your vision blurred with tears you refused to let Jake see as you rushed away from the group. By the time you made it to the stairs, you knew you would be alright, so long as you didn’t come face to face with him again. You clambered to the top of the stairwell, pushing through bodies in search of the front door. You were desperate for air, just for a breath of relief to help you forget about his venomous tone. When your fingers clasped around the doorknob, you instantly felt better. You pulled it open, stepping foot into the yard and away from the chaos.

The porch was near vacant aside from the couple engaging in a handsy makeout session a few feet away, but not even they seemed to notice you. You pulled the skirt of your dress down as you stepped forward, crouching down until your ass hit the wooden step. You released your hold on the short dress, stretching your legs out as you adjusted to a more comfortable position on the stair. You let your hand run through your hair, your fingers catching on knots as you combed through the mess of loose curls. You let out a shaky sigh, wiping the tears away from your cheeks as you let your eyes flutter closed.

You wouldn’t let him get the best of you, even though it was so easy for him to do it. You were better than his short fuse and lack of regard for your feelings, and you wouldn’t feed into the fire he created. As much as you wanted to yell, to call him out on his ridiculous behavior, it wasn’t you. You weren’t angry; you were bubbly, happy and outgoing, and you adored making new friends. You were a social worker who loved children because of their unusual glee despite being in horrible situations. You loved it so much, because that’s who you were. You loved being happy, the light shining in darkness even when you should be miserable and sad. You liked being that beacon of light for others, and you made it a point to remember small details so nobody ever felt forgotten.

You were kind hearted and free spirited, and you loved to love. You wouldn’t let him take that away from you, in all of his gruff grumpiness and dark brooding eyes. You were human, and everyone likes to be liked, but you didn’t care anymore. If he wanted to dislike you, that was fine, because you loved being you and you didn’t care to change for anyone. If he didn’t like your behavior, your desperation to see the best in everything and your constantly joyus nature, he was the one losing, not you. You wouldn’t bend your own boundaries to make someone like him happy.

The door creaking open behind you pulled you from your thoughts, making you peek over your shoulder to investigate the disturbance. You were met with a sight for sore eyes, the pure chaos of the moment putting a smile on your face despite your own internal struggles. Sam was stumbling towards you, his eyes heavy and glossy as he clutched a beer bottle tight in his hand. He was positively hammered, and you could tell with every step he took.

His stare landed on you, like he was a predator in search of prey. His hand holding the bottle raised, his index finger straightening and pointed in your direction. “Was looking for you, knockout. You’re fast.”

“You’re drunk, Sam.”

“Pshh,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He took a few unsteady steps towards you, placing his hand against the railing to steady himself as he sat down beside you.

“I love you, you know.” You smiled, hugging your knees to your chest as you rested your chin atop of them.

“I love you, Y/N.” He slurred, the smell of alcohol radiating from him. In some strange way, drunken Sam had always secretly been your favorite, mostly because of his unapologetic nature when it came to the tellings of his heart. “You’re the best friend ever, you know. Like the best. Couldn’t imagine life without you.” He rambled, slinging his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. “You’re always so sweet and kind, and you make the best cookies, and you come to my stupid parties and talk to my stupid brother, even when you don’t want to. There’s nothing wrong with you, Princess. Don’t listen to him, ‘cause he’s stupid.” He reiterated the same sentiment, causing a small giggle to fall from your lips.

“F’course I show up to your parties, Sammy.” You whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder. He smelled familiar, giving you a sense of home you couldn’t find anywhere else. “Wouldn’t imagine life any other way.”

“And everyone loves you, Y/N. Josh, and Danny, and even Jake. ‘Specially Jake.” He hiccuped, smiling at the thought. The apples of his rosy cheeks were so soft in the moonlight, the sight heartwarming and forcing a smile onto your cheeks, too.

“No, I don’t think he does, Sammy boy, and that’s okay.” You whispered, gazing up at the stars and living in the sweetness of this moment rather than the bitterness of the one you shared with Jake.

“No, don’t think you get it, Princess.” He chuckled, his head toppling over onto yours as he heaved a large breath. He was caught in a nasty bout of hiccups, and his movements were all sloppy and loose. You were beginning to realize he was much more intoxicated than even you perceived him to be, and you were going to have to get him inside and to bed soon. “I can’t tell you, cause he wouldn’t like that, but he likes you, Y/N, wholeee hell of a lot.” He put the extra emphasis on the words to ensure you took him seriously. You laughed at his words, his oxymoronic statement, and the tone in which he said it.

“Sure, Sam.” You chuckled, pulling away from him slightly. You immediately missed the comfort of his touch, but you knew it was for the best. “Why don’t we get you upstairs, honey? Maybe a glass of water?”

“You think?” He asked, squinting at the porch light as he turned to look at you. His expression was challenging, but you both knew you’d win the fight.

“I know, Sam.” You gave him a soft smile. “Come with me?”

“Okay.” He huffed, nodding in agreement. “You’re staying tonight, right? Don’t want you… driving home…” there was a lull in his tone, and you noticed his eyes drooping lower the longer he spoke. “Jake’s an idiot, want you to stay, even if you’re mad at him… please?”

“Of course I’ll stay, love.” You promised, rising to your feet after ensuring you had a firm grip on his arm. “Come on, stand up for me.” You urged, pulling him only slightly from his sitting position.

“Kay,” he let out a shallow sigh, helping you only slightly as you pulled him to his feet. As soon as he was standing, he stumbled forward into you, and you wrapped your arms around him to keep him upright.

“Easy, honey.” You hummed, only slightly intimidated under his body weight.

‘You’ve got this. Get him upstairs and into bed. You can do it.’ You repeated to yourself, carefully moving your grip so you had one arm securely around his torso.

“Come on, Sammy. Help me out here.” You pleaded, taking a step towards the door. He seemed to be growing more tired by the second, and you worried that you would not be able to support his weight if he grew any more lax in your arms. He stumbled forward, uttering nonsense about his love for you as you desperately tried to get him to the door. You figured if you at least got him inside, someone would be around to help you out with the rest.

You felt your legs quivering under his and your own weight, but you managed a few more steps forward until you were just shy of reaching the doorknob. As you ushered him forward, you reached a shaky hand out for the door, only to find someone else already opening it for you. You looked upwards, relief flooding your features until your gaze landed on the body in the doorway.

“Let me help.” Jake grumbled, stepping forward to join the two of you.

“It’s fine, Jacob. I’ve got it.” You snapped, taking another step forward.

“Clearly not, sweetheart. Quit being so fucking stubborn.” He argued, taking post at Sam’s other side as he guided his arm over his shoulder.

“Jake!” Sam exclaimed, a lazy smile crossing his face as he recognized his brother's familiar face. “Y/N, this is my idiot brother Jake. Have you met before?” Sam looked in your direction, sending you a lazy smile and a sloppy wink. You stifled a giggle as you tightened your hold around him.

“Hey, brother. Let’s get you to bed.” He chuckled, anchoring his own arm around Sam’s back alongside yours.

Deciding it was for the best, you let Jake help you with the daunting task. Together, the journey was much less treacherous, and you had him upstairs in no time. In Sam’s bedroom, you and Jake eased your hold on him as he sat down in his bed, his eyes threatening closed as he slumped down onto the mattress.

“I’ve got it from here, thanks.” You snipped, brushing past Jake to grab a trash can, just in case Sam started to feel sick.

“He’s my brother, Y/N. I can take care of him.” He shot back, fixing the pillows so Sam could lay down.

“We’ll he’s my best friend, and I’m not fucking leaving him.” You huffed, helping Sam lay down on his side so he would not fall asleep on his back.

“Guess you’ll just have to deal with it, then, cause I’m staying too.” He rolled his eyes, plopping down on an armchair in the corner of the room.

“Great.” You muttered, fixing the blankets as Sam fought with the buttons on his shirt. “You okay, honey? I can help.” You offered, noticing his particularly annoyed expression as he couldn’t complete the task he’d set out to do. “Can you get him some water, Jacob?” You asked, a little more curt than you intended, but neglecting to feel remorseful about it.

“Why don’t you go, and I’ll get him out of his shirt?” Jake offered, malice fleeing him temporarily in hopes the arrangement might be more comfortable for you.

“Fine.” You sighed, stepping away from the bed and back into the hallway. A quick trip downstairs and one bottle of water later, you were back at Sam’s bedside, trying to get him to sip away at a hydrating alternative to the beer he was drinking all night.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Sam relaxed against the mattress and melted into the pillows. Carefully, you reached out and brushed his hair from his face, gathering it in your hands as you slipped an elastic around it from your wrist. You couldn’t help but smile as he began to softly snore, a sure sign he was out for the night.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Jake said, his tone strong and startling you as you pulled your eyes away from Sam.

“For what?”

“For caring so much about him.” He shrugged, showing you a glimpse of himself as he professed his gratitude. “He’s my brother. Means a lot to me that you love him so much.”

“Don’t need to thank me for it.” You shrugged. “Hard not to. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” The two of you fell into a silence for a moment, the tension in the air thick and uncomfortable. You wondered if he would apologize, rectify the harsh words he’d thrown your way, or if maybe tonight would be the night he finally confessed how much he hated you. Or, maybe it was neither of those things, and the night would take the worst turn of all; the two of you sitting there, caring for a drunken Sam in awkward silence and sharing occasional words. Perhaps you could even talk about the weather.

“So when are you two gonna tie the knot?” Jake asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you carefully.

“What?” You asked, looking over at him with confusion written all over.

“Everybody’s thinking it. We’re just waiting for you to get on with it.” He said, his gaze never leaving your face, almost as if he was challenging you.

“I don’t like Sam like that, Jake. He doesn’t feel that way about me, either.” You were firm with your response, ensuring he understood that.

“Right.” He whispered, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch. Your eyebrows furrowed, curious about his words but unsure if you even cared enough to ask. You turned back to Sam, running a gentle hand over his arm as he slept soundly. As you did so, you could feel Jake’s eyes burning into you, making you shift uncomfortably in your position. Eventually, it became too much to ignore, and your head turned towards him again.

“What is your problem?” You asked, stronger than you intended.

“Nothing,” he defended himself, his lips turned down into a frown. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

“Why would you want to?” You rolled your eyes, looking away from his face. You found it much harder to stay angry with him when you couldn’t stop thinking about how attractive he was. He opted not to respond to the topic at hand, but instead moved back to a previous one.

“Why don’t you and Sam get together?”

“Jesus, what does it matter?” You asked, answering his questions with more. You weren’t keen on discussing your romantic relationships with a man who barely cared enough to notice your presence in a room, and you definitely weren’t willing to discuss your relationship with Sam with him.

“You wanted me to talk, so I’m talking!” He argued, keeping his voice hushed so he would not wake his brother.

“Yeah, I wanted you to talk three years ago, Jake.” You laughed, shaking your head as you did so, but the situation was not funny to you. You couldn’t believe him, and he continually managed to surprise you with his offputting comments and his vague remarks. “I wanted to know you, but you’ve made enough of an impression already, and that ship has sailed.”

“I’m talking now, Y/N.” He tried again, his voice softer but still seemed standoffish.

“I don’t want you to, Jake.” You clarified, realizing you’d rather sit in silence or talk about the sunny skies, now. “I don’t care. I used to get upset because all you wanted to talk about was the weather, but I get that it is the only thing we have in common.” You stood, knowing you needed to take a step away from the situation before you exploded.

He was so good at getting under your skin, so different and so irritating. He ignored every one of your attempts at getting to know him, and you were over it. He didn’t get to be an asshole for so long and then suddenly change his mind about it, like he got to call the shots. The ball was in your court, and you weren’t willing to give him the time of day anymore.

“Wait,” he pleaded, holding his hand out to stop you from walking out on him. Ignoring his plea, you pushed past him, stepping towards the door with no intent on stopping. “Y/N, please.” He stood, reaching out to grab your arm so you could not leave.

“What, Jake?” You snapped, turning on your heel to face him. “Unless you’re going to tell me what your issue is, I have no interest in talking to you about anything.” There was a fire in his eyes unfamiliar to you, so different than the pained, distant expression he often adorned when looking in your direction.

“My issue is you!” He said, never dropping his hold on your wrist. It wasn’t tight, far from painful, but it was exhilarating. His skin on yours felt fantastic, even if he was an asshole.

“See? Was it that hard to finally fucking say it?” You fumed. “Just say you hate me, Jake. It’ll be so much easier for both of us!”

“It is hard, because I don’t hate you!” He confessed, taking you by complete surprise. “I couldn’t hate you, ever. Trust me when I say, I’ve fucking tried!”

“You don’t?” You asked, your knitting together in confusion. “Then what is your issue with me?”

“I don’t have an issue with you, Y/N. It’s me. It’s my problem.”

“Tell me Jake, please. I’ve spent so long wondering what I did to make you not like me, and I need to know.” You pleaded, your anger dissipating as you realized you finally might get an answer to the one question that constantly plagued you.

“Can we… Can we go somewhere else? Please?” Jake sighed, looking over his shoulder at his sleeping brother.

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, stepping backwards and out of the room. He stayed close to you, ensuring Sam was alright before he closed the door behind him.

You led him down the hallway, turning into the guest bedroom that had become your very own. You stepped inside first, staying near the door as he walked in behind you. He knocked the door shut as he passed it, the music still booming downstairs and the crowd still plentiful despite the night changing into the early morning hours. You turned to face the boy, finding him already looking at you. His gaze was uncomfortable, especially knowing that there was so much unsaid between the two of you.

“So, what is it, Jake?” You asked, your arms loosely crossed over your chest as you tried to hide yourself under his stare. Now that the two of you were alone, your skimpy dress felt all the smaller, and you were self conscious knowing his eyes were drinking in every detail.

“I’ll tell you, but I need you to answer me first. Is there anything going on between you and Sam?” He asked, his palms pressed together and his fingers extended outwards, pointing towards you as he spoke.

“No, Jake. Not that it’s your business, but Sam and I are just friends; it’s always been that way, and it always will be.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” You stressed the point. “Why does this have anything to do with you not liking me?”

“It has everything to do with it, because I do like you!” He exploded, the sudden shift taking you by surprise. You recoiled at the strength of his words, watching him in shock for a moment.

“What are you angry about?” You asked, unable to piece together his erratic behaviour. His head fell back on his shoulders, a groan leaving his lips as he struggled to speak. It seemed as if his thoughts were plaguing him and he wanted to do anything other than confess them.

“I do like you, sunshine, and a lot more than you think.” He explained, drawing in a long breath and stepping towards you. “I like you too much, and I am a fucking idiot for treating you so badly, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Talk to me, Jake. Tell me what’s wrong, and we can work it out, together.” You pleaded, a shred of sympathy for the man taking hold despite all of your anger.

“See? That’s why, because after three years of me being a dick, you’re still trying to be nice to me!” He exclaimed, appalled at your concern and constant attempts to help fix things. “You should be yelling, or calling me names, or walking away, but you’re not.” He stressed the fact, hoping you understood what he meant.

“Is that what you want me to do?” You asked, confused by his response.

“No, I don’t want—“ he cut himself off, realizing how harsh and condescending the words sounded. “I love you, Y/N, and that’s why I can’t fucking talk to you, because I know I shouldn’t!” You were stunned, taken back by his bold confession and unsure how to respond to it. Your eyes widened, your lips parted as you breathed in his bare honesty hanging in the air. “I’ve spent three years falling for you, and it fucking kills me, but I can’t get you out of my head. Your perfect smile, and that cute little laugh, and the fact you care about everyone and everything, no matter what. You take care of all of us, all of the time. You’re funny, you’re smart, and you are way out of my league.”

You were so shocked at his confession that you forgot to breathe for a moment, and the fact he thought you were out of his league was laughable. You were in such a state that you didn’t think your actions through before responding, and an actual laugh fell from your lips. As soon as the sound reached your ears, your hand instinctively raised and clamped over your mouth, horrified that you made the sound in the first place. A flash of hurt crossed his face, the small expression telling you he regretted speaking at all. The laugh cut deep, but he was misunderstanding the intent behind it.

“You know what? Never mind. Pretend I never said anything at all.” He muttered, stepping towards the door.

“No, Jake.” You stepped forward, this time to stop him from leaving. “I’m not laughing at you.” You promised, your cool hand landing on his noticeably warm biceps. The soft fabric of his shirt felt good on your fingers, and an unfamiliar feeling blossomed in the pit of your stomach. “It’s just… I spent so long thinking you hated me. It’s a lot to take in. You have to understand that.” His eyes flickered back to you, then down to your hand on his arm. There was no longer any malice in his face, the softness of his features all the more alluring now that his defences were down. “Just… work with me, please?”

“Okay.” He whispered, turning back towards you slowly.

“I just… I think that you believing I’m out of your league is funny, because it couldn’t be further from the truth.” You explained, your voice quiet. The two of you were closer than you’d ever been, the heat of his body radiating from him. The sweet, intoxicating smell of his cologne you remembered so fondly from the night in the bathroom hit you with full force, skewing every one of your morals the longer you breathed it in. The drunken, desperate part of you was almost willing to forgo any tough conversation and have your way with him then and there, but you managed to stave off the urge for a little longer. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why would I, Y/N?” He asked, frustrated by the thought, but much more calm now that he understood your feelings a bit better. “Why would I try to pursue you, when we both know that I’m no good for you?”

“No good for me?” You asked, inching closer to him in hopes you wouldn’t have to give up the contact with him.

“Yeah,” he nearly scoffed the word. “No good for you. Think about it, sweetheart. You are a ray of sunshine, all of the time. You light up a room wherever you go, and everyone falls in love with you without even trying. You’re a social worker, for gods sake. You’re so good that you help people for a living, with no benefit to yourself. You remember the small details, you never make anyone feel left out or forgotten. You’re good, and I’m not. I treated you like shit for three years because I couldn’t let myself drag you down with me. I didn’t want to do that to you, but I had to.”

“What are you talking about, Jake? You wouldn’t be dragging me down at all.” You wished he would hear how ridiculous his words sounded, but he was stubborn, and you knew that for a fact.

“I’m miserable. I’m mean, and I’m snarky when I don’t even want to be. I’ve got a temper, and I say things I shouldn’t. You don’t deserve someone like that. You deserve someone who’s just as happy as you are, who puts out just as much good in the world. You’re waking up at three in the morning to go to the hospital and help out a family in need, and I’m just passing out drunk on someone’s couch. You help people, and I hurt people, even when I don’t want to. You don’t deserve that, Y/N, and I can’t do that to you. I bit my tongue because I wanted you to fall in love with someone who could make you happy.” He explained, his drunken ramblings tugging at your heartstrings.

“Jake,” you whispered, your hand tightening on his arm to pull his attention towards you. Now that he started, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from talking. All that he held back for so long was finally surfacing, and it didn’t seem to want to slow.

“I wanted you to fall in love with Sam, because you two are great for each other. It would have sucked, but I know that you deserve someone who can love you like that. I hate myself for pushing you so far away, but I had to, for you. I didn’t want you to get involved with me, because you are too bright and shiny, and I’m a little bit broken. I don’t know how to love, I’m not good at it, and you should be with someone who can give you the world.”

“Hey.” You said, firm as you dropped your hold on his arm. You reached up, taking his cheeks between your hands and forcing him to look at you. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to choose who is good for me and who isn’t, Jacob.” You said, swallowing hard as his brown eyes seemed to be staring into your soul. “You’re not broken, and you’re not bad, Jake. I’ve seen it before, and I’m seeing it right now. You have a big heart, and you care so much, even if you aren’t the best at showing it.” You breathed, looking over his face. Your heart was beating fast, your chest a mess of emotions you’d never quite felt before in your life. You were angry, confused, but also incredibly happy to finally hear the truth coming from his lips. You were oddly attracted to him in the moment, and you finally felt like the two of you were on the same page.

“I don’t like Sam that way, because I’m not looking for someone bright and shiny. I’m looking for someone who makes me feel something, and you do, and you always have. Why do you think I’m still trying so hard? After this long, I still want to be around you, and I still want to talk to you. I like being bright and shiny, and I like helping people. That’s who I am, and I can’t change that, but there’s nothing wrong with you, Jake. You said you’re ‘bad’, but how could you be? You spent three years putting me before you, because you didn’t want to hurt me.” You explained, begging for him to see reason. “What you just said to me, about how you feel… Jake, nobody’s ever said anything like that before. Nobody’s ever cared like that before.”

“I do care, and I definitely don’t hate you. I had to push you away, because every time I see you, I want to tell you how badly I need you. I tried so hard to get over you, but I can’t get you out of my fucking head.” At that, his hands raised to your hips, drawing you closer to him as he spoke.

“I’m not asking you to, Jake.” You said, your head spinning from the feeling of his hands on you. It felt so good, so unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Your hands were still on his cheeks, his face unbearably close to your own. After hearing everything he had to say, it made sense. All of the staring, his avoidance of being alone with you, the sweet moment in the bathroom. “I like you, in all of your grumpiness. I think you’re funny, and smart, and you are incredibly talented. I like that you play songs for me on the guitar, even if you don’t want to admit it, and I love that you love me so selflessly. You don’t get to decide if you’re no good for me, and you don’t get to force me to fall in love with someone else, because right now, I’m quite interested in knowing what it’s like to love you.”

“You can’t just say stuff like that, sweetheart.” He warned, his tone gravelly as his heart began to beat solely for you, for the moment you were sharing.

“I’m not just saying it. I mean it. After all this time, I’m still here, listening to everything you have to say.”

“I did play that song for you. I wanted to see you smile.” He confessed, almost pained at how badly he needed to see the joy written over your face. “I wanted to hear you sing it. I wanted you to sit next to me. I want it all, Y/N, all of the god damn time. I want you, but I don’t know how to do it right.”

“We can work on that part, because I want you too, Jake. I can’t walk away from you after you said all of that, because I don’t think I’ll every find anyone else quite like you. I don’t care if you’re grumpy, and I don’t care if you have a hard time showing how you feel. You’re not broken, and you’re not bad for me.” You felt your lips upturn into a small smile, noticing the blush of his cheeks and all of the small details you never had the chance to admire.

There was a splatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose, like a constellation gracing his tanned skin. His brown eyes were even more breathtaking up close, and the fullness of his lips were more tempting than they’d ever been. You wanted to lean forward, to taste the sweetness he’d been withholding from you. The stony expression you’d grown so used to finally melted away, and you could see why he always adorned it while around you. Now that his cover was blown, the mask was gone, and he was looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

He was still hesitant, nervous about tainting the perfection you carried around with you. He didn’t want to dim your light, and he didn’t want to hurt you anymore.

“Stop pushing me away, Jacob. I don’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else.” You whispered. “I don’t want to walk away and forever wonder what it would feel like to love you. I can’t keep replaying ‘what if’s’ in my head for the rest of my life, and I don’t want that for you, either.”

“I’m not good at this stuff, sweetheart.”

“We’ll never know if we don’t try.” You offered, gravity pulling your face closer to his. Your nose was brushing his own, the smell of whiskey on his breath apparent and inviting. You weren’t sure what he was doing to you, but you’d never been so overcome with emotion in your entire life. “I don’t need someone bright and shiny, Jake. I need someone that balances me out. I need you.” His grip on your hips tightened, the breath catching in his throat at the three little words he’d been longing to hear since he first laid eyes on you.

“You mean it?” He asked, raising one eyebrow in inquiry as he ensured you were certain about everything you said. He didn’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret it, realizing you drank too much and that he was too much.

“I mean it, Jake. I need you.” You stressed your point, desperate for him to close the gap between your mouths and finally give you the satisfaction of kissing him. Many nights you spent awake in bed, angry about his behavior and unbelievably turned on at how much you liked it. You hated yourself for being attracted to his behavior, but now that it made sense, you didn’t need to feel that way ever again. All the shame was gone, dissolving into one, unbearable, undying need for him.

The two of you clicked, better than anyone else ever had before. Even when you were arguing, short with each other and trying your best to stay away, there was always something. Whether it be a lingering stare, an accidental touch, or a sweet moment when you least expected it, he never failed to capture your attention and you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away. He was infuriating, but you always seemed to come back for more, unable to refute his beauty and unable to resist the urge to know him. You couldn’t stand the idea of him disliking you, because you so badly wanted him to feel the same way about you. You wanted him to be caught up on you, curious about you and desperate to know more. You wanted him to be drawn to you in the same way, and you couldn’t handle him pushing you aside because your interest in him was driving you crazy.

“Say it one more time?” He asked, his lips just barely brushing over your own as he spoke.

“Please, Jake. I need you to kiss me.” You repeated, stronger than the last. Before the last word fully left your mouth, his lips were on yours and he was pulling you into him by your hips.

With your body pressed against his own, you felt all of the tension between the two of you finally subside. His lips were locked with yours, finally getting the satisfaction he’d been craving for so long. Your hands held his face, the touch tender and telling of your enjoyment. The tips of your fingers were tangled in the strands of his hair, the soft chestnut locks twisted around your fingers in a way you only ever imagined they would be. The taste of him on your tongue was addicting, even more so as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, begging you to let him take it further. You parted your lips for him, feeling his tongue quickly take advantage of the opportunity you had given him.

He tasted as sweet as you imagined he would, the warm remnants of whiskey he was drinking still lingering on him. He was addicting, intoxicating, and he was driving you insane without even trying. His hands on your hips were rough but gentle all the same, holding you tightly but cautious as if he thought he might break you. For the first time in your life, you were overtaken by greed, completely blind to anything other than your desire for him. The heat of his body as he held you to him, how perfect the two of you felt pressed together, was better than anything you’d ever felt in your entire life. His heart was beating hard against his chest, in time with yours as the two of you melted into one, cohesive mess for each other.

You let a moan slip out into his mouth, unable to hide your enjoyment for the moment. You felt his fingers tighten on you as he drank in the sound, surviving off of the sweet noise and locking it up in his heart for safe keeping. He pulled away from you, breathless with stars dancing in his eyes as he looked down at your face. His lips were swollen, the slight pout that so often made an appearance was nowhere to be found. He looked stunning, and you couldn’t believe he felt such a way about you.

“Hard for me to behave myself when you sound like that.” He huffed, his pupils growing large as he continued to study your expression.

“Who said you had to behave?” You asked, a sparkle of mischief shining in your eyes.

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, your words hitting him harder than you thought they would.

He reached down, his hands landing on the back of your thighs as he lifted you in one swift motion. You locked your arms around his neck, your stomach twisting with excitement as you wrapped your legs around him. As he pressed his lips to yours again, he took a step forward. You were so immersed in the feeling of kissing him that you barely registered the chill that ran through you as he pressed your back up against the wall. With his newfound leverage, he pressed himself further into you, your hips meeting his as he kissed you. The intensity of the moment grew tenfold, especially with the new position.

The burning sensation in the pit of your stomach had prompted an ache between your legs that was becoming harder to ignore the longer he kissed you. Your dress had ridden up your thighs, resting just below your hips now. You quickly understood that you were not the only one with a growing problem, and you could feel his own desperation as your clothed cunt met with his cock through his pants. You could feel his entire length against you, and as much as you loved the feeling of kissing him, it made it incredibly hard to think about anything else.

His strong hands held your thighs, never letting you believe he’d drop you. He had you pinned against the wall, leaving no room for you to escape, and you were happy with it; there was nothing in the world that could stop you now, especially after feeling the euphoric affect of his touch. He was overwhelming entirely, but in the best possible way. You couldn’t even manage to form a coherent thought about anything other than the way he was making you feel, and you were eager to explore the possibilities the night held.

You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, allowing yourself to fully embrace how good he was making you feel with such a small amount of effort. His hands felt like they were burning into your skin, the touch melting into you, and his chest pressed against yours felt right. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, filling your senses every time you had a chance to catch your breath. Both of your lips were slippery, slick with saliva as he continued to kiss you, making even more of a mess. His lax attitude made it all the better, showing you that he was completely comfortable no matter how far you wanted to take it.

Perhaps the most pressing thought of all was how perfectly his hips met yours, and how badly you needed to feel it with less clothing in the way.

“Jake,” you breathed, parting from him as you rested your forehead against his.

“Could listen to you say my name like that for the rest of my fucking life.” He muttered, his tone gravelly and his gruffness making a return. This time, instead of irritating you, it sent a wave of pleasure straight through you. In an instant, you understood that his strong personality extended far beyond the realm of casual conversation, and you were eager to see it in action in a whole new way.

“I want you, baby.” You said, the words falling from your lips in a whimper. The need for him completely overtook you, in a way you almost didn’t believe possible. An hour ago, you were furious with him, convinced that he hated you and wanted nothing to do with you. Now, you were digesting the fact that no touch had ever felt so good, and you would do anything to be under him, just for a night. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want, beautiful.” He said, looking over your face with a fire in his eye that you ignited. It felt good to be looked at in such a way, like the whole world turned just for you. “Tell me everything.” He ordered, willing to comply with every one of your wishes, but wanting you to give him every one of the details.

“I want it all, Jake. I want you.” You explained, feeling his hips push forward. The pressure of his cock against your aching clit gave you a hint of relief, but it wasn’t enough. “I want you to make me feel good. I want you to touch me.” You pleaded.

“What else, gorgeous?” He asked, his lips ghosting over your jaw. You let your head fall back against the wall, giving him access to any part of you he wanted. His lips placed kisses along your jawline as he awaited an answer, sloppy as he began and growing even more so as he continued down to your neck.

“I want you to fuck me, Jake.” You confessed, free of any shame over the fact. “I need you to fuck me.” You corrected yourself, your desire pulsing under your skin as his tongue traced over the artery in your neck. He could feel your heartbeat on the tip of his tongue, your very life source offered to him on a silver platter. He pressed his lips to the pulse point, drinking in the desperation in your tone as he suctioned his lips around the very spot. Your eyes fluttered closed as he applied the slightest bit of pressure, focusing his attention there for a moment until he pulled away.

His eyes raked over the sight, the skin pink and irritated from his lips and darkening by the second. A perfect circular mark to remind you of him with every beat of your heart.

“I guess even a perfect little thing like you has some secrets to hide.” He rasped, his pupils consuming his irises as lust worked to craze him. “Tell me how you want me, angel, and I’ll give it to you.” You watched him carefully, your cheeks flushed and your skin hot. Your nipples were hard, pressed against his chest as he spoke to you. Every time he moved, the friction sent another rush of arousal straight to your core. Your skin was tingling, your excitement reaching every nerve ending and sending goosebumps prickling over your skin. “Tell me how you want me to fuck you, sweetheart.” He spoke again, trying to pry the dirty confession from you.

You had thought about it many times, but one thing you never seemed to consider was that in every fantasy, you got off from the simple idea of him doing whatever he wanted to you. Now, after experiencing touch from his hands, you felt that way more than ever before. No matter what he did to you, you knew you were bound to enjoy it.

“That’s it, beautiful? You want me to fuck you however I want?”

“Yes,” you nodded, excited just at the prospect. You looked over his face, piecing together every bit of information you knew about him. He was blunt, honest, and he liked to be in control. You couldn’t imagine sex with him being any other way than that, and you were eager to please him. If it was something as simple as that, you had no issue giving him the chance. “I just want to make you feel good, baby.”

The words seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain as he processed them. His hands tightened on you, his cock pushing forward into your cunt even further and his breath caught in his throat. He studied you for a moment, quiet and concentrated as he tried his best to figure you out. After a moment, his lips upturned into a devious smirk.

“Have you thought about me like this before, sweetheart?” He hummed, smug as he asked you the invasive question. Your cheeks burned red, your heart beating faster than normal as you quickly tried to find a cover up for the truth. Then, you realized you didn’t really care at all. You had thought about him in that way, and you had no reason to be embarrassed about it at all.

“I have.” You gave a slight nod, confirming his suspicion.

“And you got off to that? The thought of being my little fuck toy?” He pressed further, his intent to get you to admit to the dirty little fantasy. Although you wouldn’t have worded it quite the same as he did, the sentiment was the same, and you did get off on that thought alone. “Don’t be shy now, baby.” He said, his fingers snaking up the skirt of your dress.

“I did,” you whispered, biting down on the inside of your lip as you waited for him to respond.

“And you’ve been keeping that to yourself all this time?” He asked, his nose brushing against your jaw as his lips ghosted over your neck again. You squirmed under his touch, the feeling of his hot breath on your skin driving you insane. The tips of his fingers found your hips, settling just below the elastic waistband of your underwear.

He was going to be the death of you, and you were certain of that.

“Let me get this straight, angel.” He contined, pressing a delicate kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear. A breathy wine pushed past your lips, your entire body ablaze with desire and desperate for him to do something other than tease you. “Did you like it when I was mean to you?” His words were soft, carefully treading the topic as he continued to gently rock his hips against your own. The dry friction was enough to keep you sane, but nowhere near what you needed. He took your silence as enough of an answer, smiling against you as you contined to try and move your hips further down on him. “Never would have guessed that Little Miss Sunshine likes to be treated like a whore.”

“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to press your thighs together to get a bit of friction. So strung out on desire, you didn’t even realize that all it was doing was pulling him further in to you.

“I bet that pretty cunt is such a mess for me, isn’t it?” He asked, pulling you away from the wall and stepping towards the bed. His hands were on your ass, firmly holding you so you did not have to fear him dropping you.

His cockiness was infuriating in any other context, but in the moment it was sending you feral. You were a shell of who you were earlier that night, the only thing fuelling you was your lust for the man below you. You were desperate, willing to do anything to have him, and finally coming to terms with the fact that your secret fantasies about him had nothing on real life.

“Answer me.” He growled, his fingers tightening on you as he drew your attention back to his question.

“Fuck yes, Jake.” You rushed out, feeling guilty for leaving him hanging.

“You want me to take care of that ache between your legs? Make you feel all better?” He asked, his eyes flickering to your face.

“Yes, please.” You nodded, meeting his gaze with doe eyes that seemed to drive him crazy. With that, he dropped you down on the mattress, the impact lessened by the springs bouncing you back upwards.

“You want me to take care of you, we do this my way.” He said, now gazing down at you with a slight sneer on his face. “Sound good to you, angel?” You nodded, never daring to look away from him. “First off, you refer to me as sir.” He waited until you processed the information before speaking again. “You answer when spoken to.” He added.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded. A small smirk turned his lips at the sound of your response.

“And the last one,” he crouched down, eye level with you to ensure you understood the importance of his rule. “Don’t ever, under any circumstance, be afraid to tell me to stop.” At that, a smile turned your lips, and he reached up to cup your face. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his thumb drifting over your cheek.

“As for me, I’m going to enjoy this no matter how it goes, so tonight’s an apology for how poorly I treated you.”

“It’s okay, Jake.” You assured him, feeling slightly sad that he felt the need to settle the score. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

“I want to, ‘cause you deserve so much more than that.”

“Okay.” You breathed, nodding against his gentle hold. His thumb drifted downwards, caressing the smooth skin on your face until it landed over your bottom lip. He traced the outline, taking a moment to admire you and appreciate all he had. As he did so, you placed a kiss to the pad of his thumb, feeling an unfamiliar tug in your heart that did not match the energy the rest of the night held.

For some reason, in that moment, things finally began to sink in for you, and you finally saw him for all he was. He wasn’t just some angry man who was unjust and cruel. He was a person, with feelings that plagued him every day, feelings for you. He chose to push you away not because it would do any good for him, but because he wanted what was best for you. From that alone, you could see that he cared for you far beyond what anyone else ever had. In some strange, twisted turn of events, you could physically feel the pull of emotion in your chest, the blossoming feelings for Jake and all he was, including his pessimistic and avoidant attitude.

This was what was meant for the two of you. Not the fighting, or the avoidance, but this; a blatant and unashamed attempt to show each other how you felt. The whole time, he only wanted to love you, and you only ever wanted him to like you. You had no idea why you wanted him to like you so bad until the sweet words began to fall from his lips, and now you understood that you had always wanted him to be the one to say such things to you.

He was a mystery that you promised yourself you wouldn’t solve, but that’s exactly what you’d been trying to do all along. You started every conversation with the intent of turning it deeper, and you left empty handed and heartbroken because you always felt like there should have been something more between you. If you didn’t truly believe so, you would have quit a long time ago.

Instead of dwelling on the past, you allowed yourself to live in the moment. The rough pad of his thumb still rested on the delicate skin of your lips, and you did the only logical thing that was running through your mind; you parted your lips ever so slightly, pulling the digit into your mouth and letting it rest on your tongue. You suctioned your cheeks around it ever so slightly, your eyes fluttering up to meet his as you did so. His expression was deadly, his eyes focused on you as his jaw clenched and the familiar muscle in his jaw flexed. Slowly, you moved your head back, his thumb sliding from your lips and falling from your mouth with a faint popping sound.

A low groan rattled his chest, his eyes fluttering closed as his head fell towards the ground. You watched him, eyes never leaving him so you could soak up every bit of his energy. “You trying to fucking kill me, sweetheart?” He asked, the rhetoric meant to go unanswered as his hands landed on your hips.

He pulled your near the edge of the bed, settling himself on his knees before you as his hand grabbed the fabric of your dress. He bunched the material in his fists, sliding it upwards with help from you as you lifted your ass from the mattress. When the bottom of the skirt landed near your navel, he dipped his fingers underneath the elastic of your underwear, using the opportunity to pull them down your thighs before you returned to your earlier position.

With your ass resting on the edge of the bed and your lower half bare, he couldn’t seem to control himself any longer. This was a moment he thought about often, but never truly believed he would experience.

“Do you know how often I thought about you like this?” He asked, his fingers roughly guiding your leg over his shoulder. The sudden action knocked the breath straight from your lungs, causing you to clench around nothing just from the thought of what he would do to you. “How many times I wanted to bring you up here and have you all to myself?”

“I thought about it too.” You breathed, your stare locked in on his face as his eyes scanned the sight before him. He leaned forward, his lips brushing over the soft skin of your inner thigh. Carefully, he sucked a trail of marks all the way up to the top of your thigh, determined to ensure you would remember the moment long after it passed. You reached down, brushing the long locks of brown hair away from his face so you could see the whole sight with nothing standing in the way. “I thought about it all of the fucking time.” You let out a shallow breath, watching as his mouth turned inwards towards your cunt.

Your stomach twisted into knots as you watched his tongue dart over his bottom lip, the anticipation killing you the longer he withheld his tongue from you. Without any further words, he leaned forward, unable to wait any longer and let his tongue connect with your core. Starting at your entrance, he let his tongue flatten against you, slowly moving it upwards through your folds until it landed on your clit. He took in a sharp breath before moving his tongue downwards and repeating the action for a second time. When his tongue settled over your clit again, he moved away just for a moment.

“You taste so fucking good, angel.” He rasped, his fingers tightening on your hips as he savored the taste of your arousal on his tongue. It was even better, knowing that he was the reason behind it. “Just as sweet as I thought you would be.”

A pathetic little whine fell from your lips, your face burning and your heart pounding in your chest as he lowered his mouth on you again. This time, his tongue went straight to your clit, his actions full of intent. As soon as his tongue began to trace over the sensitive bundle of nerves, your entire body began to tremble. You tangled your hands in his hair, a shaky breath leaving your lips as he focused his full attention there for a moment.

It has been too long since you had sex, and everything he did felt so good. You were a mess for him before he ever took your clothes off, and you knew it wouldn’t take long before he had you exactly where he wanted you. Your eyes fluttered closed, your head falling back on your shoulders as he worked at you, drinking up every drop of arousal you had to offer. His tongue felt so soft, warm and wet against you, making every movement all the more fantastic.

The power he held over you was nearly incomprehensible. Never in your life had another person affected you so badly and deeply, in everything that he did. Every lingering glance, slight smile and even the roll of his eyes, he had you hanging off it and asking for more. Even when you thought he despised you, you couldn’t shake the temptation to reach out and try again, because even a miserable interaction with Jake was better than nothing at all. You were a fool to think that the same emotions wouldn’t carry over into sex, but with his mouth on you, working you up to an orgasm, you realized that there was nobody in the world quite like him.

He was snide, sharp-tongued and quick witted. He was an enigma, catching attention no matter where he was or what he was doing. You were so convinced he hated you because it was easier to believe than anything else; even then, with his hands on your hips and his mouth on your cunt, you could hardly believe Jake Kiszka was interested in you at all. To know he spent so long hung up on you, thinking he wasn’t good enough for you was nearly painful to imagine. He was everything, even when he wasn’t saying anything at all. He was the whole world, and it felt like you were just living in it, which was why it was so hard to exist without any type of relationship with him. You wanted Jake to know you, to like you, to think of you in the same way you thought of him when you had a moment to yourself.

He let out a hum against you, the vibration running through your whole body and furthering the waves of pleasure already washing over you. You let out a sharp moan, your fingers tightening around the locks of his hair. You laid back on the bed, careful so not as to disturb him while he worked. The new position gave you a bit more control over the motion of your hips, and a lot more pleasure. He took advantage of your new position, pulling your ass off the bed and closer to him so he did not have to lean so far forward.

He groaned against you, completely overtaken with desire and unable to hide his enjoyment as your hips moved against his tongue to meet his time. The fire in the pit of your stomach was growing at a rapid rate, taking over your entire body and causing your mind to jumble with thoughts of nothingness. You needed it more than you ever needed anything in your entire life, and he was quite aware of that as you bucked your hips forward despite his tight hold. He was encouraging you further with every flick of his tongue, and just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, he reached between your legs and added his middle and index finger to you.

Your hips jerked upwards in reaction to the curl of his fingers, which hit against the sensitive spot inside you every time he pumped them into you. You could feel him smirking against you, cocky and rightfully so as he realized how good he was making you feel.

“Oh, fuck.” You whined, your eyes squeezed shut as a particularly intense wave of euphoria took hold. Your abdomen was tense, just the same as your limbs. You felt like if you moved an inch, you would lose the pleasure he was so kindly granting you. “Jake, m’gonna cum.” You warned, feeling the sensation in the pit of your stomach grow stronger, snowballing as it spread across your skin.

He continued to pump his fingers in time with the movements, pushing you closer to the edge by the second. You pulled your leg casted over his shoulders inwards towards you, drawing him in further as he worked at you with intent. You could feel a sheen layer of sweat forming on your skin, glistening under the moonlight through the window to illuminate the sin you were engaging in. The obscenity of the display the two of you found yourselves in was a picture that would be framed in your minds forever, the memory of the event seeping into the walls and remaining there forevermore. You wouldn’t be able to rid the memory from your brain even if you wanted to, and that was okay by you, because Jake was the best that you had ever had.

With one last curl of his fingers, he sent you over the edge, the knot in your belly tightening and snapping under the pressure. Your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him in further as his tongue traced over your clit. You cried out for him, pleading for more and less all at the same time, pleading for mercy you knew he would not give. Your hands in his hair were pushing him away and pulling him closer all the same, and you had never felt so strung out on pleasure in your entire life.

“Oh, god.” You whined, your thighs squeezing around his head as he confined to work you through the climax. His hands on your hips, bruising the delicate skin made your heart beat only for him in that moment, living just from the generosity he was granting you and thankful to be his.

When your body relaxed against the bed, he slowed his movements, eventually pulling away from you. Although you were grateful that he didn’t push you to the point of overstimulation, you immediately missed the feeling of his tongue, grieving the loss as if it were something catastrophic.

To you, it was.

He slowly rose to his feet, his hand swiping your arousal from his chin before they dropped to his shirt, quickly unbuttoning it and throwing it to the floor. You looked up at him, in awe of his blinding beauty and unable to process anything further than that. He unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops in one swift motion and tossing it to the floor.

“Get up.” He ordered, his usual expression taking over his face again, but this time it seemed even more ethereal. You did as he asked, rising from the bed and to your feet. “M’sorry, angel. Been waiting so fucking long. I need to feel you.” He said, kicking his pants and his boxers to the side to join the rest of his clothes on the floor. He stepped towards you, your eyes trained on his body as you tried to sear the sight into memory forever. He was stunning, more than you ever thought he could be, and seeing all of him only made you realize how lucky you were.

His hands snaked under your dress, pulling the tight material over your head and tossing it to the floor. Now that you were fully naked, he took full advantage of the fact and let his hands wander over you as he pulled you in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the feeling sending you feral as the pad of his thumb brushed over your nipple. You wanted to tell him he didn’t need to apologize for anything, that you needed him inside of you just as bad as he did. As your hands roamed his bare torso, you understood you didn’t have to say a word because he could feel how badly you wanted him.

He guided you to the edge of the mattress, taking a seat in front of the vanity Sam had placed at the end of the bed. He sat first, keeping his hands on your hips as he guided you towards him. With a smile, you placed your knees on either side of him, keeping a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful. Wish you could see yourself like this.” He muttered, his head craned upwards to meet your gaze as he lined himself with your entrance. The feeling of him against you was fantastic, only growing more so as he ran his tip your arousal. He bright his cock forward, guiding himself so he could slide over your clit. Your hips moved downwards in reaction to the feeling, in search of more. The pressure of him resting against you increased, only worsening your growing need for him. “Come here, gorgeous.” He muttered, carefully guiding your hips backwards. You felt him slide through your folds again, the sensation something so different than anything you’d felt before. When he settled by your entrance again, he couldn’t wait any longer to pull you down on him.

You both let out an audible sigh of relief as he pushed inside of you, the feeling of him filling you so fantastic that you needed to take a moment to appreciate it. You weren’t used to his size, but the stretch of your walls as he pulled your hips down to meet his was fantastic.

“So fucking tight,” he muttered, his nose brushing yours as your forehead rested against his own. “Feel even better than I imagined.” He confessed, his hands trailing up your torso and tickling your skin. You began to move your hips, starting with a slow pace while you both grew comfortable with each other.

You weren’t sure why, but the thought of him imagining the two of you in such a way was enough to get you off all by itself. It affected you so much, you couldn’t help but bring it up with him.

“Yeah?” You hummed, maintaining a slow roll of your hips against him. The ends of your hair tickled the skin of your back, tangling with his fingers as he held your chest to his. “You thought about me like this? Just like this?” You continued, adding a little extra force to your hips as you came down on him.

“All of the time, Y/N.” He said, one hand reaching around you and landing on your ass. His fingers tightened against you, his palm settling directly on the curve of your ass. “Thought about how good that pretty little cunt would feel wrapped around me every fucking night.” He confessed, leaning forward and capturing you in a kiss. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down with just enough force to cause your hips to stutter while they moved against him. “Takes everything in me not to take you upstairs and fuck you every time I see you.”

“I thought about you too.” You whined, your eyes fluttering closed as you focused on the feeling of him inside of you. You were without shame anymore, knowing that the two of you were finally on the same page. He thought about you just as much as you thought about him, he wanted it just as bad as you did, and you felt no need to hide it from him.

“Yeah?” He asked, thrilled at the sound of your words despite already knowing as much. His hand on your ass was guiding you down further every time you moved your hips, adding just a little more pressure to the already overwhelming sensation. “Did you play with yourself while you thought of me, angel?” He asked, his lips hovering over your ear as he spoke. The low tone sent a shiver down your spine, and his warm breath on your skin sent goosebumps rising across your entire body. Your hand on his shoulder tightened, but you did not confirm or deny the fact. “Come on, don’t be shy.” He coerced you to answer, leaning forward and gently pulling your earlobe between his teeth. “Want to know all of your dirty little secrets, beautiful.”

“I-I did,” you stuttered, clenching around him ever so slightly. He was impossible to resist and denying him the truth seemed more painful than confessing.

“So I was the one keeping you up at night?” He asked, a little breathless as he spoke as if the idea sent him spiraling. “My name on your lips as you imagined it was me touching you instead? And I wasn’t even there to hear how fucking desperate you were.” He said the second part with a hint of disappointment, as if he was grieving the loss without ever knowing he missed out. “You’re breaking my heart, angel.” He muttered, pushing your hair away from your neck as he pressed a kiss atop the darkening marks he’d already left behind.

“M’sorry, sir.” You pleaded, unsure why you were apologizing but doing so because you were terrified he might stop. He was silent for a moment, his tongue grazing your skin. The saltiness on the tip of his tongue seemed to drive him mad, his stature rigid and his chest heaving with every breath.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart.” He said, ignoring your apologies as his eyes focused on the mirror in front of him. He felt selfish being the only one who could appreciate the view of the scene you found yourselves in.

You slowed your movements, pulling away from him as you complied with his request without hesitation. Slowly, you got to your feet, turning around so you were facing the large vanity mirror as well. He reached out, his hands landing on your hips as he guided you back towards him. You placed your legs on either side of him, feeling him reach between your bodies to line himself back up with you. Once he knew you were comfortable, he pulled your upper half towards him, your back pressed against his chest as he slowly lowered your hips onto him.

“Want you to see how pretty you look when I fill you.” He muttered, pulling you down until he filled up you completely. A shaky breath left your lips as the tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot, the sight almost too much for you to handle. He reached up, brushing your hair from your shoulders and pulling it all to one side. He draped it over one side of you, his chin nestling on the opposite shoulder as you began to move against him again.

With the new position, you could see everything. The furrow of his brow as he bargained with the pleasure of feeling you, his clenched jaw as he tried to keep himself calm, and more importantly, you could see him fucking into you, every time your hips raised and sank back down on him. It was almost too much to take, the sight so obscene yet so beautiful all at once. His hand snaked between your legs, his middle finger resting over your clit as he began to trace slow circles around it. Your legs trembled as you tried to keep a steady pace, the burning in your belly reaching a new level as you watched his lust-crazed eyes, never daring to look away from you.

“This is what you fantasized about, sweetheart?” He asked, making you understand the real reason he switched the position. He wanted you to remember, to know exactly what it looked like as he fucked you, so you had something to think about the next time your mind wandered when you were alone.

“Yes, sir.” You whimpered, your entire body ablaze with emotion. You’d never felt so good, and you’d never felt so alive. Sex with Jake was phenomenal, something so filthy that it only existed in the darkest depths of your mind, even when he wasn’t doing much at all. The closeness was enough to drive you insane, and the pleasure was enough to put you in the grave. His stern demeanor was infuriating outside of the bedroom, but seemed to further his charm as soon as his clothes were off.

“Want you to think about it every time you play with that pretty pussy.” He growled, his hips raising off the bed to meet yours in a moment of high emotion. You let out a muffled yelp, biting down on your lip to silence the sound as it passed through you. “If that’s still not enough, you just let me know. I’ll be happy to take care of her, whenever you need me.” He assured you, his teeth sinking into the skin of your shoulder. The miniscule pain from the action only furthered the knot tightening in your belly. You needed to let go, to show him how good he was making you feel. You needed it more than anything you’d ever needed in your life. The pressure of his jaw slackened, and you felt his tongue gently trace the skin his teeth had marked, soothing the slight irritation he left behind.

A moan fell from your lips, loud and telling of the surplus of pleasure coursing through your body. His finger continued to trace your clit, relentless and unapologetic as he tried to pry another orgasm from you. It was becoming harder to focus, the sensation quickly turning into the only thing you could think about. You watched his face in the mirror, studying the beauty of the man below you. He was concentrated, certain of what he wanted and unwilling to stop until he got it. As you contined to watch him, you understood that his eyes were no longer trained to your face, and instead his gaze had fallen downward, settled on the exact spot where the two of you met. Your stomach burned as you realized he was watching himself fuck into you, the simple idea pushing you just a little closer to the edge.

“You going to cum for me again, angel?” He asked, his tone sickly sweet as if you had a choice in the matter. He wasn’t going to stop until you did, and the question only served as a catalyst in his ever growing ego problem.

Perhaps you were the real catalyst in the equation, because you seemed to lack any self control when it came to him, and you wouldn’t dare deny him of a single wish.

“Yes, sir.” You groaned, your eyes closing and your head falling towards the floor. You felt like you had no control over your body, your movements only made to further the pleasure he was already giving you. It was necessity rather than want; you were tired, but you couldn’t fathom stopping. You wanted to exist in the moment for the rest of your life, never letting him go and never worrying about anything else.

“Look at me.” He growled, his hand raising to your face. He clamped your cheeks between his fingers, forcing your head back upwards to face the mirror. Your body was overtaken with euphoria by the harshness of his actions, the feeling of his hand tightly holding your face adding the extra little bit of pleasure needed to send you over the edge. “Watch how good you look when you cum for me.”

“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, your movements stuttering as the sensation became too much to withstand.

“That’s it,” he rasped, continuing to hold your head in place. “That’s my fucking girl.” The possessive claim sent you spiraling, the term too much to bear in combination with everything else he was doing to you.

Your walls squeezed around him, pulling him in further and locking him there as your second orgasm washed over you. He raised his hips off the bed, continuing the same pace as your body froze in place. His finger on your clit never faltered, ensuring that you got the most out of the orgasm. He continued to whisper the sweet nothings in your ear, praising you for the show you were putting on as profanities fell from your lips. Your cheeks were red, your face hot as the sensation infiltrated every nerve in your body. Your eyes remained locked on the two of you, soaking in every detail as he worked you through the climax, admiring him as he remained so tentative as you unravelled around him.

Before the pleasure fully subsided, you could feel him shift underneath you. His finger moved from your clit, instead his hand holding your hips as he began to stand. He held you as he stood, guiding you upright with him without ever pulling out of you. Your mind was foggy and your limbs weak as you barely worked to help him, but he didn’t care about the lack of support. He was crazed enough from the look on your face that something superhuman took hold. He pushed you forward, closer to the vanity as his eyes stayed locked on your face.

You raised your hands to the cabinet, knowing his course of action before he ever began. You began to regain your wits at the same time as he pushed your upper half down towards the wooden surface. Your chest landed on the frigid surface, sending a shock through your body as you felt it. He reached upwards, his hand gathering your hair and knotting it around his fist as he began to move his hips. The new position allowed for much more freedom, and much more control. As much as he enjoyed the slowness as you grew familiar with the feeling of him inside you, he could only give up control for so long before he went insane.

“Being so good for me, sweetheart. Just a little bit longer, okay?” He pleaded, his hips slamming forward. A guttural moan tore through your chest, the pain and pleasure mixing together to create a whole new kind of feeling for you. You were tired, nearly fucked out and ready to go to sleep, but if he wanted it, so did you. You would do anything to please him and you would enjoy it while you did so.

“Y-yes, sir.” You complied, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to fight of the irritating overstimulation trying so hard to take hold. “Whatever you want, sir.” You added, finding that talking was helping you come back to your senses a little more.

“Fuck, baby.” He hissed, his hand coming down on your ass with a force that sent your knees weak. The ring on his middle finger sent an aching pain across the flesh, but it was so addicting you barely thought twice about it. The stinging sensation spread across your skin, the redness already beginning to darken where his palm came in contact with you. “Take it so fucking good.” He praised, his dark eyes still watching your expression in the mirror. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze, the desperation to please him evident and doing nothing but furthering the frenzy he was stuck in.

“F-feels so fucking g-good.” You gasped, stuttering the words out through a mess of moans. You raised your hips a little higher, sinking your upper half down so he could reach a whole new angle inside of you.

“Such a little whore.” He commented, tugging at your hair and forcing your head upwards. Your eyes raked over your reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing yourself so strung out on pleasure. “Do you like being a whore for me, angel?”

“I love it.” You confessed, your heavy-lidded stare burning into him. “Only for you, sir.” You added, ensuring he knew that now, he was the only one who would ever have access to that side of you.

“That’s right.” He affirmed your statement, his words gruff as his movements grew sloppy. He was being pulled in to the same euphoria you’d experienced at his hands only moments before, the sensation taking hold and growing impatient with him. He needed it, and after his generosity, you would do anything to get him there. “This is all for me now, sweetheart. Nobody else gets to see you like this.” A high pitched whine echoed through the room, confirming his feelings on the matter without any words needing to be spoken at all. You wanted to be his; you didn’t want anyone else to have you like that, ever again. He brought out a side of you that you barely knew to exist, and the thought of letting it go was grievous. “Do you understand me?” He growled, knowing you did but eager to hear it anyway.

“Yes, sir.” You panted, watching as wrinkles formed between his brows, showing you just how hard he was trying to hold back.

“Want to hear the words, baby.” He pressed further, his pace bruising and making it difficult to formulate the statement he wanted you to say. Another moan tore through you, your throat raw as it passed through. You were on the brink of another orgasm, so close but it seemed just out of reach.

“I’m all yours, sir.” You promised, pushing your hips back towards him to meet the time of his thrusts. As his cock slammed into your cervix, your knees went weak below you, threatening to collapse under your weight. He noticed the change in your posture, immediately slipping his arm under your hips to hold you upright.

No matter the circumstance, he wanted you to know that you would never have to worry about falling so long as he was there to catch you.

“Fuck, you feel good.” He let out a strained sigh, his face contorting into an expression of pleasure. He was close, but he wasn’t willing to give in until he gave you one last orgasm.

To you, the thought alone was ridiculous; after everything he’d already done for you, you couldn’t imagine him holding back any longer.

“S’okay, baby.” You breathed, catching his eye so he could see the sincerity in your face. “Want you to cum for me.” You said, your words hitting him like a brick. It seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain, the role switch sending him spiralling in an instant.

You could feel him pull out of you, both of you knowing he couldn’t push himself any further. Something seemed to take over you as he did so, unfamiliar but not unwelcome. You spun around, facing him and quickly dropping to your knees before him. You were nearly saddened at the thought of such an anticlimactic end for him, and the feeling forced you to take action as you moved your head forward and took him into your mouth. You could taste yourself on him as you bobbed your head down to take his full length, the simple fact causing the ache between your legs to worsen beyond anything it had already been that night. You missed the feeling of him inside you, but you were more eager to please him than you were to satisfy yourself.

He looked down at your face, shock written across his features as he processed your sudden change. It didn’t take long for the surprise to be forgotten, especially as his tip hit the back of your throat. His hand reached down, holding your hair in his hand so he did not have to miss a single detail of your face. The warm wetness of your mouth was just as inviting as your cunt, and the sensation furthered his pleasure as if he’d never pulled out of you at all. He didn’t want to push you, afraid that you might not be able to handle the same intensity in the newest position, but when you pushed your head further down on him and his cock slid down your throat, he quickly understood that you were willing to take whatever he wanted to give you.

His hips bucked forward in response to the feeling, and you forced yourself to swallow, your throat constricting around him and effortlessly sending him over the edge. At the same time, the most beautiful sound fell from his lips, gracing your ears and settling deep in the pit of your stomach.

For a moment, you felt like you could get off on the sound of his pleasure alone.

His posture slipped slightly as his orgasm washed over him, his release spilling down your throat as he held you to him. You moved your head against the force of his hand, your tongue moving against the underside of his cock as you swallowed back every last drop of him. A strangled cry left his lips as he pulled back, his hips jutting forward again as you ran your tongue over his tip. The saltiness lingered on your lips, making your mouth water and leaving you wanting more. In that moment, there wasn’t a single thing you wouldn’t do for the man standing before you.

“Get up.” He spat, his shoulders still heaving with his breaths. Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his gaze as you withdrew your head. His tip fell from your lips with a slight popping sound, and you couldn’t bite back the smirk forming on your lips. “You think you can do something like that and finish it there?” He growled, watching as you rose to your feet. He was not angry, and not a single part of his face gave you that impression. He was enamoured with you, unable to walk away without at least thanking you for the service, and he was completely beside himself with desire. “Turn around. I’m not fucking done with you, yet.”

You did as he asked, spinning back around to face the mirror. You sunk back to the position you were in moments before, your hands clamped around the edge of the wooden dresser. Instead of returning to his earlier position, he sunk to his knees similar to how you had done for him, his head between your legs and within seconds, his tongue connecting with your core.

He got straight to the point, so far gone he didn’t even care to tease you anymore as his tongue settled over your clit. Your hips moved back to meet his mouth, in desperate search of more and he barely even started. You were too far gone to care, much similar to him, and your body was still abuzz with the pleasure he had already granted you that night.

“Fuck, Jake.” You cried, your voice raspy and your tone breathy as your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure. His movements were different than before, more messy and much less calculated, but it almost made the entire ordeal even more enjoyable. The knowledge that he was completely feral for you alone was overwhelming, and the fact he was pleasuring you solely because he enjoyed it was something you’d never experienced before. “Please don’t stop, baby.” You pleaded, your heart thudding against your chest and your face hot with emotion. He moaned against you, assuring you he would never even dream of it. The sound appeared much more animalistic than it was before. His hands raised, grabbing your hips and pulling you back towards his face. He was working at you with desperation, like he needed it just as bad as you did.

Your stomach was tense, your legs trembling as his fingers bruised your skin. You were so close, too far gone to care about keeping yourself quiet and without a care in the world about the marks he was leaving on your body. You wanted to remember it, to wake up in the morning and see the dirty details of the night lingering on your skin. In days to come, you wanted to think of the night every time you took your clothes off, living in the feeling of being his just for a moment longer.

“Jake!” You cried, your knuckles white from your grip on the vanity. Your body ached with exhaustion, but you were in such desperate need of another climax that not even that could deter you. He hummed against you, the warmth of his tongue and the vibration of the sound working together to push you closer to the edge. You could barely think straight, your skin tingling with pleasure every time he moved. You worried that you might not survive the fall, the orgasm barreling towards you faster than you could comprehend. Then again, with him holding you, you had a lingering sense of comfort, like you could survive anything so long as he was there to support you through it.

With one last flick of his tongue, you were pushed over the edge and there was no coming back. A strangled whine tore through your chest, your legs locking in place as the sensation took hold. You were crying his name, begging him for something he couldn’t give, because not even you knew what you needed. He didn’t even think of moving away, working you through the process until you rode out the high, and even then he felt like he had to force himself away from you.

When you relaxed against him, you could barely keep your eyes open. You were so tired, so ready to curl up in bed with him by your side. You wanted to sleep soundly, so much so that you could forgo the conversation about what the two of you were and deal with it in the morning. You expected him to feel the same, but he rose to his feet with a whole new surge of energy overtaking him. Wordlessly, he helped you stand upright, spinning you around once more by your hips, but he didn’t let go this time. Instead, he lifted you up, similar to how he did earlier that night but with much more strength due to the lust working to his advantage. You wrapped your legs around him, exhausted but still able to comply to his demands. Your mind was elsewhere, your body working solely to please him as he held you to him with one hand. His other reached out, carelessly clearing the surface of the vanity with one swipe of his arm. The few items toppled over and landed on the floor, and he sat you down on the edge of it.

“I know you’re tired angel, but I need to feel you again. I can’t fucking help myself.” He explained, reaching between you and running his tip through the wetness still lingering between your legs. He was still achingly hard, in dire need of relief again despite his last orgasm only being moments before. Your eyes were drooping so close to closed, but as his cock drifted over your clit, your hips grinded forward into the feeling, in search of the very thing that might be the death of you.

Slowly, he thrusted himself forward, his dick falling into position and slowly pushing inside of you again. Unprotected sex was risky, especially after his previous orgasm, but neither of you seemed to care a bit about it, too desperate to be close to each other again. The sensation of him inside you was too much, the stretch of your walls as he filled you again so much more daunting than the last time. Still, despite your body screaming with overstimulation, you couldn’t deny how right it felt to have him so close.

“You can take it, baby. I know you can.” He encouraged, beginning a slow rock of his hips against you. The newest position allowed for a whole lot more intimacy, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t completely living for it. Your arms raised, locking around his neck and pulling him closer. “Being so, so good for me, baby.” He praised, his hands traveling over your bare back to pull your chest closer to him.

You were completely fucked out, and you had no idea how he was still going. You had a hard time imagining that you had such an effect on him, but the proof was in his actions. This time around, he was much more generous with his sweet side, and had much less control over the sounds falling from his lips. He was desperate, acting as if the control was in your hands despite his dominant aura, like he would die if he couldn’t have you for just a little longer. You never thought Jake Kiszka would be the one before you, pathetically needy and unable to resist the temptation, but you were so glad it ended up that way.

“Come here.” You muttered, pulling his face closer so you could kiss him. The taste of you on his lips still lingered, something that you were growing more used to as time went on. The sweetness of his kiss was nearly too much to bear, a pitiful moan slipping into his mouth as he continued to fuck into you. You were a mess for him, willing to let him do whatever he pleased. The best part about it was that he felt the exact same for you in the moment.

Your tongue glided over his bottom lip, begging for more attention from him. His lips parted slightly, allowing you to slip it into his mouth. The kiss was sloppy, the salvia shared between the two of you soaking your lips and coating the upper part of your chin, but it was addictive. The messiness of the action only made it even more so, and you couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

His chest was pressed against yours, his heart beat wild and matching your own. The dampness from the sweat on your skin caused the two of you to stick together, forcing you to stay in the position. His hands were grasping at your body, doing all he could to bring you closer than you could possibly get, and your hands were tangled in the mess of his hair. Neither of you wanted to break apart, so you stayed just like that for as long as you could.

As you continued to kiss him, the pressure in the pit of your stomach began to rise again, this time different than the last. It had little to do with his hips moving and everything to do with the connection you felt with him. His nose brushing against yours as he did all he could to continue the kiss was euphoric, and you couldn’t believe he wanted you so badly. After so long spent thinking he hated you, the feeling of him loving you was otherworldly. He was holding you with all of the emotion he’d kept locked up for so long, the truth coming out in a climactic and emotional manner. Your legs locked around his waist, pulling him further into you as he continued to fuck you.

For a moment, you felt like you had become one, cohesive being that survived solely off the beating of each others hearts.

You knew you were at the end, that you couldn’t possibly hold anything back. All of your willpower disappeared, your body doing as it pleased and your mind having no say over it. Without confirmation, you believed in your heart that he felt the same way as you did. He could feel the flutter of your walls around him, the telltale sign that you were close to another climax. He continued his pace, never thinking of stopping even for a moment. He needed to feel you in the most primal, visceral way possible.

“Come on, angel.” He muttered against your lips, upping the force in which he was fucking into you. “One more, baby. You can do it.” His voice was strained, like he was teetering on the same edge as you were.

“You too?” You asked, pulling away just enough so you could look over his face.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, almost embarrassed over the fact. It only seemed to further the burning in your belly, and you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. Neither of you cared about the consequences, only the intensity of the connection between you as he fucked you closer to the orgasm. In a permissive manner, you leaned toward and pulled him into another kiss, your mouth meeting his own and telling him everything he needed to know.

A groan rattled his chest as his hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer to him as he gave in to the feeling. You did the same, feeling your skin tingle with the intensity you’d felt so many times already. This time was different, more emotional and less physical, but it was a million times better than anything you had ever felt.

Together, the two of you reached the peak, muffling every moan and cry with your mouths. His stature faltered, falling over into you slightly as you held him tightly. Your entire body trembled as the euphoria overtook you one last time, and his hips stuttered as he pulled your hips forward onto him. For the second time, he spilled his release into you, unapologetic as he worked you through your own orgasm. Your body ached from the tension in your limbs, your ribs pained from your heart pounding against them. Your hands loosened on him as you relaxed, the moment passed you by almost as quick as it came.

Reluctantly, he parted from the kiss so he could catch his breath. His forehead rested on your own, and his eyes seemed tired, but full of love. There was no more hesitation, no reluctance or indifference in his gaze. Instead, it was replaced with the emotion he was so determined to confess, and it washed over you like summer rain. It felt better than anything ever had, and you never wanted him to look at you any other way ever again.

Silence became the two of you for a few moments, neither of you having the energy to speak. He rested inside of you, completely content with holding you there as he soaked up the last bit of intimacy the moment had to offer. Your brain was abuzz with thoughts, all pertaining to him, and for once, there was nothing negative. Finally, you were at peace, completely comfortable with the man before you. It felt right. You couldn’t deny the fact, and you were over the moon with the outcome of the entire ordeal.

Eventually, he leaned forward, placing one last, gentle kiss to your lips. It was sweet, soft, and exactly what you needed to come back to earth. A small smile was tugging at his lips as he studied your face, and finally, he spoke. The words were quiet, barely noticeable over the sound of your beating heart, but you clung to them as if it were necessary for survival.

“Let me take you out to dinner. Let me do this right.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him. Your bare chest rested against his own, his arms around your waist and as he held you tightly.

“You sure Little Miss Sunshine isn’t too much for you?” You teased, a tired smile crossing your lips as you rested your forehead against his.

“Never too much for me, sweetheart.” He shook his head, looking over the entire picture before him. He had never felt so lucky in his entire life, and he was so grateful that you decided to take a chance on him even after he’d been so rude to you. As he watched your face, he realized he was almost more excited at the prospect of sleeping next to you than he was over having sex with you. “Little Miss Sunshine’s all mine, now.” He said as a matter of fact, turning his head upwards and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I can get used to that.” You breathed, unable to express just how happy you were at the sound of his words. After having him in such a way, you would be stupid to let him go.

“I think I can, too.” He smiled against you, soaking up the warmth of loving you openly. You let your eyes close, leaning against him, content with staying in the position for a little while longer. The warmth of his body was alluring, and for a brief moment, you thought you might fall asleep right there in his arms.

You couldn’t believe the night had come to such a climactic end, and you never would have thought you and Jake would end up in a position like such. You were happy, relieved even that all the years of struggling to connect turned out to be a misunderstanding at the very core. You were excited for dinner, you were excited to share a bed with him, wrapped up in his arms all night long, and you were excited to know him. Finally, you could delve into more than superficialities and small talk about the weather, and you could know the boy that always seemed to make your heart beat just a little faster.

Despite all of the new and exciting things, there was still one thing that remained true amidst the chaos, and that was the fact that under no circumstance would you ever let it slip that Sam was right, because both of you knew that you would never live it down.

[bitter-me]

Hello ! Can I ask Savanaclaw with a first year student (platonic) that is like LingYang from Wuthering waves pls ? Ignore it if you don't want to write it !!!

Have a good day !

Another Lion?

Savanaclaw | M. Reader as Lingyang [Wuthering Waves] (Platonic)

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"It's like a mini you!"

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The day [Name] arrived at Savanaclaw is the day where Leona get's another headache. Such an energetic guy.. honestly where did he got all that energy from? It's annoying. Like a child who's still learning the world around him, believing how being kind and sincere is a good thing. Meanwhile Jack and Ruggie is incredibly happy. [Name] is just such a nice guy, always willing to help, it's a nice change from how many rotten eggs are in Savanaclaw, believing that they're the "strongest."

It's even more interesting how [Name] appears to also be a lion like Leona but turned out way different. Ruggie would always joke how [Name] is the version of Leona if he was kinder. Which earned him quite the death glare. When [Name] offered a private lion dance performance. Boy is it a sight. Watching someone showing their culture and traditions are always a nice experience and seeing him go from pillar to pillar with such swift motions is quite mesmerizing. [Name] is more than happy to teach them lion dancing if they asked.

With how swift he is, [Name] instantly made his way on to the Magical Shift/Spelldrive team in Savanclaw. He's just so agile, perhaps being a lion dancer makes him quite nimble.

Leona still finds him annoying though but after some interactions, [Name] makes a wonderful sleeping buddy. How? Well somehow he always without fail found the nicest and seclusive spots for naps. [Name]'s senses are surprisingly sharper than his, which throw Leona off the loop for a moment, and just like that [Name] had officially become Savanclaw's younger brother, who ever dare lay a single finger on him will answer to the Housewarden.

Ruggie and [Name] bonded like brothers, playing pranks here and there, enjoying life. Jack is like the more responsible older brother. Ready to help, and tries to get the two of them out of trouble, he may seem mean, but he's a big softie.

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Spoilers to those who haven't done Lingyang's companion quest

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Leona, Ruggie, Jack, and [Name] were at the Savanaclaw's dorm, Leona is napping like always, while Ruggie and Jack told stories of from their hometown as [Name] listens eagerly, happy to learn new things. "Oh? So it's like a folklore? Jinzhou also had one. It's called the Jingle Beast." [Name] says casually, looking out at the horizon with a faint smile, remembering it well how people use to fear such a "beast."

"They say that there's a beast somewhere out there and that when it hunts, you could hear the sound of a bell jingle. It's as simple as that really." He explains casually with a chuckle in the end. Such a silly rumor.

"Kishishishi! Really now? A Jingle Beast?" Ruggie can't help but laugh at such an interesting folklore. "Some say it's just a Suan'ni. A mystical creature that has amazing abilities. Some were skeptical though, since Suan'ni's are practically extinct now." [Name] added, looking down at the ground where they sat. This caught their attention, even Leona as he opens one eye and glance over to the three of them.

Ruggie thought about it for a moment before nodding in response, his face became more serious. "I don’t blame them. In ancient times, the world used to be a very brutal world. Suan‘nies were hunted and killed by humans for their own profit and desires. It was cruel and not fair."

[Name] remain silent for a moment, thinking back on those times. "In my own option…" He began slowly.

"The last Suan'ni might have yearn to become a human… it yanked out all of its fur, filled down its claws, twisted its bones, and learn how to stand upright." [Name] explains in a soft and melancholy tone, his gaze never leaving the ground, his ears occasionally twitched as he says those words.

"Anyway…" He paused, adding with hesitant in his voice. "It.. never really became a human in the end.."

Pure silence. Nothing but pure silence follows after that.

Ruggie and Jack look at [Name] with widened eyes, heck, even Leona had gotten up, sitting upright and looking at the other with a dumbfounded expression. They immediately picked up on what the other is implying.

Of course the Suan'ni never became a human in the end... because at the end of the day.. it is still a Suan'ni.

Through out the centuries... animals evolved and that's how they could now stand on two feet, talk, and etc etc.

But what about those who are older? Before such evolution could even be achieve? Suppose...

[Name] had answer that question.

[tootoomanycats]

Hi.

I think it’s a travesty that Gil-Galad has barely a crumb of fanfics or even head canons.

So I’m working on something to add to that sexy, sassy, big boy’s fandom.

I definitely have a type, and it’s men who have their shit together, have goals and a very good sense of self control but are pent up…so I can watch them snap.

This is rough draft, unedited and just thrown down to keep my idea going but dang nabbit, the thirsty folks deserve a drink!

I present the first teaser for *drum roll*

The Plan

Desperation pushed you to find the guest quarters and put distance between the High King and yourself. After what you just did, you can’t look him in the eye, gods you don’t want look yourself in the eye.

Dammit, was that the same door with a potted plant you passed a few minutes ago? You were going in circles, fast pacing, and red faced from embarrassment. He knew, he had to know you were lost and still Gil-Galad followed while offering no help in your escape from him.

“How long shall I expect you to hide away this time? I was under the impression that it was too precious to waste-being as short as it is.” Gil-Galad knew that his words were sharp, their sarcasm laced like a blade with poison. He could feel his pride pulsing like an open wound after what you just did. Emotions raw from weeks of you seesawing both towards and away from him.

“How dare you!” Came your rage in a whispered hiss, spinning on your heels to glare at the tall elf who followed behind so closely.

How dare he?

Gil-Galad could feel his neck heat as the temperance of his frustration grew. He was not the one disillusioned from reality. “I believe the offense is mine to have. For I was not the one to run and cower after you kis-“

“Shush! Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

Not once in the entirety of his life time, centuries long that it was, has anyone ever dared to ‘shush’ him. His posture straightened, the tips of his ears faintly hued red as frustration turned to insult.

“First you run is cowardice from your own actions, now you not only refuse to acknowledge them but have the gall to shush me?” He glared from where he stood, watching as each word cut through your panic and your eyes shamefully turned to the ground.

Gil-Galad’s pride raged like that of a wounded beast trapped behind the bars of well trained control. Had he not been kind in taking in you and your small group? Housed and feed you, treated the wounded and sick to health, all to see your worries lessen?

He had no expectation of receiving anything in return, other than a thank you for the kindness- which you and your small group had given ample times over. Nor was no expectation to have the fluttering feeling of attraction reciprocated, his only hope was to continue the friendship he enjoyed in your company.

But he did not deserve the inconsistencies of your actions and words. Spinning his minds thoughts and hopes in circles that dizzied and confused. So many times you flirted back, even flirting boldly at him, flustering him. How much he had held self control in his desires to reach out to you, feel the grasp of your hand in his. Even for you lean on him when sitting together.

Just moments ago when you kissed him so tenderly, he had been frozen, his mind trying to confirm what he had hoped for had finally come true. But before he could reciprocate the action, you fled. No more. He could take this no more.

Update post for this story here -----> Update 10/17/24