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sidekick-hero · 5 months ago

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In Loving Memory

Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 4, prompt: Angst with Happy Ending

Tags: Modern AU, rockstar Eddie, plane crash, HAPPY ENDING, minor character death

words: 3.3k | AO3 | mature

“Good afternoon, Mr. Harrington. My name is Elizabeth Quinn, and I’m part of the cabin crew today. Thank you for choosing to fly with us. I hope you're enjoying your flight so far.”

Steve looks up at the owner of the soft voice to his right. It’s a young woman in a stewardess uniform with big brown eyes that instantly remind him of Eddie.

“Oh, hello. Uhm, yes, everything is fine, thank you.”

The stewardess smiles warmly. “I'm glad to hear that, sir. I wanted to discuss a situation we’re currently facing. As you may know, flights can sometimes be overbooked, and today we have a few more passengers than seats available in first class. We’re looking for a volunteer to move to another section of the plane. In exchange, we’re offering a significant compensation package, including a voucher for a future flight, a complimentary upgrade on your next trip, and a gift card for our in-flight shopping.”

She looks apologetic, and he can tell she hates asking him this. It’s not a particularly long flight, and he mostly booked first class because that’s what his father’s secretary always did for him the few times his parents had him fly to wherever they were. So giving up his seat for a four-hour flight doesn’t seem too bad.

“Yes, I can move to another section of the plane. That’s okay,” he tells the stewardess and is rewarded with a bright, genuine smile adorned with dimples. Another thing that reminds him of Eddie. He pushes the ache in his chest down and returns the friendly smile with one of his own.

“Thank you so much for doing this, Mr. Harrington. If you have any specific preferences or questions, please let me know. Your understanding and cooperation greatly help us ensure everyone has a comfortable flight.”

With that, she leads him to another part of the plane, presumably Economy class.

“This one right here, Mr. Harrington. It has extra legroom and is situated next to an emergency exit. I will make sure you have a pleasant flight with us. You can call me with the call button or find me at the front or back of the plane.”

Steve nods with another smile that falls as soon as she walks away to prepare for takeoff. His thoughts wander back to the reason he’s on a flight to LA today.

Eddie.

He still wonders if this is a good idea. When he bought the ticket to LA, he was sure of it. The panic that had constricted his throat had lessened as soon as he pulled up the website of the airline and he felt like he could breathe again for the first time when he got the confirmation mail.

It’s a long shot, he knows that. Surprising Eddie in LA after everything that happened but he hopes it’s a grand enough gesture that maybe Eddie will forget how much Steve has hurt him. Robin suggested to just call Eddie and apologize, explain to him why Steve was so reluctant to take the next step with him.

The truth is, Steve doesn’t think he could handle it when Eddie didn’t pick up the phone or just hangs up on him before he can say his piece. If Eddie decides that it’s too much for him, that Steve’s too much, too damaged, then be it. But he needs to see Eddie one last time, drink in those beloved doe eyes one more time.

Steve thinks about why he and Eddie fought the last time they saw each other. Growing up in a very conservative household, Steve always suspected he might like men as well as women, but he denied any attraction toward men because of what his parents might say. He knew they wouldn’t accept him.

He was 31 when he walked into a bar in Chicago with his best friend Robin and locked eyes with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Eddie was the first man he ever kissed, ever slept with. He couldn’t help himself, not when Eddie flirted with him, wooed him, and made him laugh with his whole body. Steve always assumed what they had was strictly physical, just some fun between two single guys.

But Eddie wanted more than that. He wanted a relationship with Steve.

Eddie had asked Steve to be his date on the red carpet in LA for the Grammy Awards. Eddie was actually nominated with his band, Corroded Coffin, and he wanted to show the world who he loved. But Steve was scared. Everybody would know he was in a relationship with another man. So he declined, and Eddie left Steve’s apartment heartbroken.

Steve can still see the look on Eddie’s face, the hurt in his eyes. It had shattered something inside him, but his fear was stronger. He had watched Eddie walk away, the love of his life slipping through his fingers because he was too afraid to hold on.

Steve’s thoughts are interrupted by the plane's PA system crackling to life, announcing their imminent takeoff. He leans back in his seat, staring out the window as the plane begins to taxi down the runway. The memory of Eddie's face, the pain in his eyes, is as vivid as ever.

He had tried to justify his fear, telling himself it was about protecting Eddie, about not wanting to put him through the scrutiny and judgment that would come from being seen with another man. But deep down, Steve knew it was about protecting himself. He was scared of what his parents would think, what the world would think.

As the plane ascends, Steve closes his eyes, replaying that last conversation with Eddie in his mind.

"Steve, I love you. I want us to be together, really together," Eddie had said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I want you by my side at the Grammys. I want to show the world who I love."

Steve had felt his heart pound in his chest, a mix of fear and longing. "Eddie, I can't. You know how my parents are, how everyone will react. It's not that simple."

Eddie's eyes had filled with tears. "It is that simple, Steve. Either you love me enough to be with me, openly and proudly, or you don’t. I can’t keep hiding us. I can't keep hiding you."

Steve had stood there, silent and conflicted, as Eddie walked out the door. The sound of the door closing behind him had felt like the end of everything.

The plane levels off, and Steve opens his eyes, blinking back tears. He knows this trip to LA is a long shot, but he has to try. He has to make Eddie understand how much he means to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and pulls out his phone, opening the notes app. He starts typing, trying to find the right words to say when he sees Eddie.

The flight attendants come by with the beverage cart, and Steve looks up to see Elizabeth smiling at him. “Can I get you anything, Mr. Harrington?”

“Just some water, please,” Steve says, returning her smile.

As she hands him the bottle of water, she says softly, “It looks like you have a lot on your mind, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Steve looks up at her as he accepts the cup of water and finds that he actually wants to talk with someone about what he’s about to do. He needs someone to tell him that it’s going to work out.

“I do. I’m on my way to win back the man I’m in love with.”

There, he said it. He admitted that he was in love with another man and now he’s fighting the urge to hide, scared of her reaction. But he holds her gaze, heart pounding in his chest.

“Oh,” she says, her eyes softening, “that explains the look on your face. I think you’re very brave, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve takes a moment, contemplating how much to share. But he feels a strange sense of comfort in Elizabeth’s kind eyes.

“His name is Eddie,” Steve begins, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met. He’s kind, talented, and makes me laugh like no one else can. But I let my fear ruin everything between us.”

Elizabeth listens intently, her expression encouraging him to continue.

“We fought because he wanted us to go public, to be together openly. He wanted me to go with him to the Grammys, to be his date. But I was too scared of what my parents would think, what people would say. So, I said no. And he left,” Steve explains, his voice cracking.

Elizabeth nods, understanding in her eyes. “That sounds really hard, Steve. But it also sounds like you care a lot about him.”

“I do,” Steve says, his eyes filling with tears. “I love him more than anything. That’s why I’m going to LA. I need to tell him how sorry I am and that I’m ready to be with him, no matter what anyone else thinks.”

Elizabeth places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It takes a lot of courage to admit when you’re wrong and to fight for what you love. Eddie is a very lucky man to be loved so much by you, Steve. I hope he sees that.”

Steve smiles, feeling a bit lighter. “Thank you, Elizabeth. I really hope he does.”

Elizabeth gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving on to the next passenger. Steve watches her go, feeling a much needed sense of hope. He’s made mistakes, let fear dictate his actions, but he’s ready to make things right.

About two hours into the flight, Steve decides to stretch his legs and walks up and down the narrow aisle. He passes families with little kids, an elderly couple working on a crossword puzzle together, and two young women chatting and laughing. It’s fascinating to see so many different lives intersecting in one place.

On his fifth lap, Elizabeth appears next to him, gently touching his arm.

“Steve, could you please take your seat and fasten your seatbelt?”

He looks at her, puzzled. “But the seatbelt signs are still off.”

“That’s true, but from experience, I know the signs could come on any minute. I just wanted to give you a heads-up before the aisle gets too crowded with everyone returning to their seats.”

Steve nods, appreciating the heads-up. “Thanks for letting me know.” He heads back to his seat.

As Steve settles in and fastens his seatbelt, the plane suddenly lurches violently. The cabin shakes with a gut-wrenching turbulence, hurling passengers and their belongings through the air. Panic erupts as screams fill the cabin, and Steve clings to his seat, trying to stay calm amid the chaos.

Elizabeth dashes down the aisle, her face pale and eyes wide. She spots Steve and rushes over, her voice barely audible over the cacophony. “Steve! Call Eddie! Now!”

Heart pounding, Steve scrambles for his phone. His hands tremble uncontrollably as he dials Eddie’s number. The turbulence makes it nearly impossible to hold the phone steady, but he manages to keep a grip.

The call connects, and Eddie’s voice comes through, thick with confusion and worry. “Steve?” He asks and then he must hear the chaos in the background because he immediately adds, “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Eddie,” Steve’s voice cracks as he fights back tears. “I’m so sorry. I should have been braver. I should have been all in. I’m on this plane, and it’s really bad. I wanted to come to LA to talk to you. I wish I could have done all this in person. I wish I could kiss you one last time.”

Eddie’s voice trembles with desperation. “Steve, what’s happening? Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Steve’s eyes dart around the cabin, the plane shaking violently as alarms blare and panicked voices rise. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t want this to be a goodbye, but I think it might be. I needed to tell you how much I regret being so scared, and I’m sorry for hurting you. I love you, Eddie. I should’ve told you when I had the chance.”

The turbulence worsens, and the plane begins a terrifying descent. The noise in the background grows louder and more intense. Eddie’s voice, filled with panic, tries to reach him. “Steve, stay with me! Please!”

But as the plane’s descent becomes more violent, the call goes eerily silent. Steve’s heart pounds in his chest as the only sound now is the relentless, chilling dial tone. Tears stream down his face as he grips the phone tightly.

Elizabeth returns to Steve’s side, her eyes filled with kindness and urgency. She places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Hold on, Steve. It’s going to be okay, but I need you to fight. For Eddie, okay?”

Steve nods, trying to steady himself amidst the chaos. He closes his eyes, focusing on Eddie’s voice and the love they shared, holding onto the hope that somehow, somehow, he’ll get another chance.

The last thing he hears is the deafening roar of something massive hitting the ground way too fast.

When Steve opens his eyes, he’s immediately overwhelmed by blinding light and searing pain. He groans, wishing for unconsciousness to take him away again so the agony would stop.

“Steve?”

The sound of Eddie’s voice pulls him from the sweet embrace of nothingness. The panic in Eddie’s voice is palpable, as if he’s on the verge of breaking down.

“’ddie?” Steve mumbles, his mouth feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton and his tongue heavy.

“Yes, I’m here, Stevie. I’m here.” Suddenly, Eddie’s beloved face appears above him, his eyes red-rimmed and watery. “Hi, baby.”

Steve manages a smile, the pain momentarily overshadowed by the sight of Eddie’s face. How he’s missed those eyes.

The thought brings Elizabeth back to his mind, the stewardess with the same eyes. Reality crashes back, and Steve gasps with the sudden realization that he should be dead.

“What… happened?” he croaks, his voice barely audible as his strength begins to wane.

“I promise I’ll explain everything, Stevie, but first we need to get your strength back. I’ll let the nurse know you’re awake.” Eddie reaches for the call button next to Steve but stops to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was terrified of losing you.”

That’s the last thing Steve hears before darkness pulls him under once more.

The next time Steve wakes up, he feels a bit better. The pain is still there, but it’s dulled by the medication, making it manageable. He’s strong enough to talk more than just a few minutes, and he uses that strength to repeat to Eddie what he had said on the phone during the crash.

Eddie is holding Steve’s hand between his, his tear-streaked cheek resting gently on the back of Steve’s hand. His eyes are still red and puffy, but he speaks with a steady voice that is thick with emotion. “Steve, I could never just walk away from you. I knew you weren’t ready, even though it hurt. I planned to talk to you when I got back to Chicago, to tell you that I would wait for you, as long as I wouldn’t lose you. But when you called and I heard all that screaming… Fuck! I can’t even think about it without wanting to throw up. The crash was bad—most of the front was completely destroyed. It’s a miracle you survived.”

Steve blinks, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. “How… How did I survive?”

Eddie’s gaze is intense as he searches Steve’s eyes. “From what they told me, you were supposed to be seated in the front, but you weren’t. No one could explain why. Your seat was right next to the emergency exit, so they got you out quickly. And you had your seatbelt fastened, which probably kept you from being thrown around too much. It’s almost like fate that you survived. Only twenty-three people made it.”

Steve’s eyes widen as he absorbs Eddie’s words. The thought weighs heavily on his chest: If it hadn’t been for Elizabeth’s warning, he might not have been so lucky. He’s sure she’s the reason he’s still here.

A flicker of concern crosses Steve’s face. “Elizabeth… she was a stewardess on the flight. She moved me to this seat, told me that first class was overbooked and asked if I’d be willing to switch. And she also made sure I fastened my seatbelt just before we started going down.”

Eddie’s eyes grow wide with shock. “But… they said on the news that casualties were below a hundred because first class wasn’t as full as usual. They said no one in that section survived.”

Steve’s heart pounds as he starts to realize the gravity of Elizabeth’s actions. “I need to find out if she survived, Eddie. She saved my life, and I need to thank her.”

Eddie’s eyes brighten with resolve. “We can do that, Stevie. I need to thank this woman, who saved the man I love. What’s her name? I’ll get Chrissy on it—she’ll find out in no time.”

Feeling his love for Eddie surge, Steve lets it overflow for the first time without restraint. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

They share a long, tender look, like lovesick teenagers, before Steve remembers Eddie’s question. “Her name is Elizabeth Quinn.”

Eddie’s expression changes abruptly. All color drains from his face.

“What did you say her name is?”

“Elizabeth Quinn. Why, do you know her?”

Ignoring the question, Eddie asks, “What did she look like?”

Steve describes Elizabeth, including her big brown eyes that reminded him of Eddie’s—one reason he bonded with her almost instantly.

As Steve finishes, Eddie looks even paler. Wordlessly, he pulls out his phone, navigates to an article from the airline, and hands it to Steve. The headline reads: “Airline Grieves Loss of Crew Members on Flight 731.” The article features a picture of a stewardess who looks just like Elizabeth. Her name is listed below the photo: Elizabeth Quinn.

Steve’s heart sinks as he reads the name. “That’s her. Elizabeth Quinn.”

Eddie’s voice trembles as he looks at Steve. “Elizabeth Quinn was my mom. She was a stewardess, and she died in a plane crash when I was eight.”

Steve’s eyes widen in shock. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. I had no idea.”

Eddie’s eyes are glassy as he looks at Steve. “She was the best person I knew. She loved her job and loved helping people. And now it seems she came back to help two more people: me and you.”

Steve reaches out weakly, placing a hand on Eddie’s. “I wish I could have thanked her in person. But I did tell her about you—how funny, smart, and amazing you are. How much I love you. And I should have known, because you look just like her. The same kind eyes and dimples when you smile.”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand, his voice breaking. “I’m glad you got to meet her. God, this is so crazy. I was so angry for so long that she left me. I know it’s unfair, but that’s how I felt. I miss her so much.”

“She knew you loved her. She made sure you wouldn’t lose another person you love, because she loves you too. Even if she’s no longer here, she’s still watching over you.”

“Over us, you mean. I’m pretty sure this means you’re part of the family now.”

Eddie still asks Chrissy to check the airline's list for Steve’s savior. He’s not surprised when Chrissy reports that there was no Elizabeth Quinn on that flight.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie angst #steddieangstyaugust #steve harrington x eddie munson #my writing

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thelov3lybookworm · 2 months ago

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Mine? Epilogue

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Summary: her heart is so full.

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Word Count: 975

A/n: we are done with this series... I CANT BELIEVE IT OMG WERE DONE WITH IT 😭

THANK YOU TO YOU ALL FOR COLLOWING THIS SERIES EVEN THOUGH IT TOOK ME MONTHS TO FINISH IT ASJHAJDHDF 😭 ILY ALL SO MUCH ILY ILYY

im so happy heheh 🥹

anyways, enjoy!🥹❣️

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"Mommyyy."

Y/n sighed, bowing her head and rubbing her eyes, water dripping from her fingers. She had only just gotten into the bath and Adelaide already missed her?

"Yes my love?" she called out.

"Where are you?"

"In the bath, baby."

Adelaide’s response was only the soft pitter patter of her feet as she ran into the bathroom, the door unlocked because Y/n knew her little girl loved following her around and if she had locked the door, it would have resulted in a tiny tantrum.

"Mommy, where is daddy?"

Adelaide had returned from school half an hour earlier, the car ride back home filled with her babbling about everything that had happened that day. Y/n had no choice but to nod along like she understood it all, while half the stuff she could not even make sense of.

It made her wonder if she even knew english.

Y/n raised her brows at her five year old. She only just remembered that her daddy was not home?

"Baby, daddy had some work. He will be returning soon."

Adelaide pouted, leaning against the tub and swirling her finger through the milky water.

"I miss him."

Y/n nodded solemnly. "Do you want me to call him?"

Adelaide’s eyes lit up. "Yes momma! Please."

Y/n wiped her hand on a nearby towel and picked up her phone to dial up her husband’s number.

"Hello?"

Y/n had the call on speaker phone, so before she could respond, Adelaide did.

"Daddy! Where are you?"

Y/n could hear the smile in Grayson’s voice. "I’m just parking the car sweetheart. Come greet me?"

Adelaide only giggled and ran off, leaving the bathroom door open. Y/n sighed again, shaking her head.

Adelaide was a daddy’s girl through and through. And he was just as smitten by her as she was him.

Y/n would never want it any other way.

"You there, love?"

Y/n blinked, turning her attention to her phone. "Yes."

He paused for a moment. "I forgot what I was supposed to say." he exhaled a frustrated breath, prompting Y/n to giggle.

From the other end, Y/n heard Adelaide’s voice squeaking and squealing and smiled, deciding to end the call. Her husband would soon be coming to say hi anyway.

My husband.

Despite being married for four years already, the thought made her blush every time.

The two had gotten married almost a year after he had proposed. It took the two almost twelve months to convince Liam and her father that Grayson actually loved Y/n. Y/n’s mother, despite being disappointed in Grayson, had forgiven him quickly.

Maybe she saw the way Grayson looked at Y/n, or maybe it was her mother’s heart that only wanted happiness for her daughter. Whatever it was, she had accepted the two’s engagement within the first month. It was the men of the house who still held a grudge.

Y/n’s father and brother would constantly poke at Grayson, at times borderline bully the poor man. But Gray did not budge on his decision to marry her, even knowing that there was a chance that her family would never accept him and always hold animosity towards his very existence.

And that very determination of his to stay with Y/n swayed her father and brother, and while they still weren’t too friendly with him still, things were constantly getting better.

"Mommy’s in there." Y/n heard just a moment before Grayson appeared in the doorway, Adelaide in his arms.

His brows rose the tiniest fraction when he realised Y/n was in the tub. "Well, hello mama. How are you?"

Y/n shook her head, suppressing her smile at the way he shot her a suggestive smirk. "Good."

Adelaide squirmed in Grayson’s arm before he could say anything else, attention already drifting.

"Daddy, I drew you in school today. Let me show you."

She was gone then, leaving Y/n with her husband, who’s lips spread in a flirtier smirk.

He walked closer to her, leaning in while eyeing her shoulders. Y/n could already see the gears in his head turning, already thinking of ways to persuade Y/n to let him join. He began leaning in when she splashed some water on him, making him jerk away.

"Y/n! What was that for?"

She giggled, leaning back in the tub, shaking away the few tendrils of hair that had escaped her bun. "Just felt like it."

He scowled at her, then before Y/n knew what was happening, he began tickling her.

Well, I didn’t think about the consequences.

"Gray- Grayson stoop."

He finally relented after a long moment of making Y/n laugh hysterically, her stomach squeezing.

If anyone who had known Grayson five years ago saw him now, so happy and warm, they would not believe it. But Adelaide had somehow, without even knowing, healed her father. He was happier now, he did not hide his emotions behind a mask, he smiled at everyone he talked to.

"That’s what you get for being mean to me."

She just smiled at him, her heart so full, and grabbed the collar of his shirt, not caring that she left behind prints of her hand, and tugged him close.

He let her do so without a complaint, smile on his lips when she finally kissed him.

"Daddy!"

Y/n pulled away, laughing lightly. "Go, daddy, your princess has summoned you."

He chuckled back, standing straight, but seemed to change his mind as he pecked her lips once more. "I’m yours."

Random confessions of love had become a habit of his now.

Kissing her forehead once he jogged out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Leaving her to smile to herself like a giddy teenager.

Mine.

He’s mine.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Mine taglist: @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @blocked-zombieartist @lillycore @lanterns-and-daydreams

@bubybubsters @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @thena101

@imaseabear @book-nerd-emi @cassie6392

The Inheritance Games Taglist: @dahliawarner @thena101 @yucanbmylxdy @sheisntyou @kitkatlover015

#grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne #the inheritance games #tig fanfic #tig x reader #grayson x y/n #grayson hawthorne fluff #grayson x reader #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne x reader angst

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pars-ley · 20 days ago

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Title: I still want you (part one)

Pairing: Jimin x female reader

Summary: Legend has it that there's a being of nightmares residing in a dark castle deep within the woods. But...what if the man who roams those halls is not the monster he's made out to be?

Genre: fantasy au / cursed jimin / strangers to lovers / fated lovers / angst / fluff

Rating: 18+ (sfw) (part two will have smut)

Warnings: mentions and descriptions of demons / description of murdered character (not main character) / talk of curses and spells / really insecure Jimin /

Word count: 7.3k

Banner: @caelesjjk is the G.O.A.T for this perfect banner

Moodboard: Me

Beta: @anyamaris @colormepurplex2 @heathfritillary thank you so much for all of your help, suggestions and endless cheers for this!!!

Authors notes: for @ksmutsociety ’s ‘the velvet vault’ event with the prompt dark academia. Inspired by “the truth untold” song, mixed with Beauty and the Beast meets Tim Burton. The poem at the end was written by the wonderful @colormepurplex2 thank you so much.

My playlist:

The truth untold - BTS

Who - Jimin

Not by the moon - Got 7

Dopamine - Jackson Wang

Like crazy - Jimin

Scene one

Hearing tales about this infamous garden is one thing, but seeing it before you, that is something else entirely.

Your eyes must be deceiving you, for such beauty couldn't exist in just one place; especially within this dark, cruel town.

People here have long given up on happiness, love, even decency. With more magical creatures being discovered and invading the town, some wreaking havoc and others spreading fear like wildfire, a lot of people feel trapped here.

You, being one of them.

Living a life constantly looking over your shoulder is not ideal but it is something you have come to accept. Especially after the death of your mother, which has shaped you into a much more vigilant adult.

One evening, she didn't make it home before the darkness blanketed the sky, your mind raced throughout the night, until first light peeked through the trees and illuminated your answers.

Her lifeless body strung up in the centre of town, by those demonic, soulless beings, hung for everyone to view and gawk at. The image still haunts you almost four summers on and so does the comprehension behind her death.

Your mother had been a powerful enchantress, having regular visions that, more often than not, came true. She could charm objects with magic to bring a variety of privileges; protection, love, knowledge, luck, anything to help ease the wickedness of the world. She made potions from the plants that grew on our windowsill, all medicinal and all made with heartfelt care.

All of this made her more capable of protecting herself than anyone in this town and yet, she still ended up dead.

Her dagger, laced with a protection spell, had still been tied tightly to her thigh, not even an attempt to be taken out of the harness. Had she even had the chance to try?

You had removed it from her lifeless body and kept it close to you ever since.

You did not know what she had been doing in the woods, or what kept her out so late on that fateful day, but you knew that whatever it was, surely involved magic. If she pushed herself too hard with spells, she lost too much energy and wasn't able to use more if needed.

The questions around her death have plagued you ever since.

Here in the garden, however, you feel an odd sense of peace, something you haven't felt in a long time. However reckless it may be for you to enter, you slowly open the unlocked gate. The loud creaking of the hinges makes you pause, frozen in panic while you scan your surroundings. Your hand moves to your mother's dagger that now resides hidden under your skirt, tied to your outer thigh with a makeshift holster.

When nothing moves or makes a sound in return, you slide yourself in through the small gap and step onto the stone pathway.

The smell hits you like an ocean breeze; intoxicating fragrances swirl around you, trapping you in a cage of flowers. One that you would gladly lock yourself into.

Your feet seem to move of their own accord as you stroll through the abundance of colourful flowers, softly skating your fingers along velvet petals with a ghostly touch.

As you walk, a little basket full of berries in hand, you realise how much lighter you felt, as if you were lifted on a floating cloud, carrying you along in the wind. Your aching heart felt calmed; soothed just by being in here.

The variation of flowers is unlike anything you'd seen, every colour you could think of in so many shapes and sizes it is hard to fathom them all. But it’s the white rose bush in the centre of the garden that catches your eye and draws you in further. As you had given in and succumbed to the temptation, trespassing onto the grounds of the large, ornate castle your town spoke about frequently. The fear and the guilt, however, had left you as soon as you entered.

In closing the distance between you and the rose bush, you also edge much closer to the tall, round tower that stands alongside it. Surrounded by a wildflower floral blanket and yet, the dark, unwelcome castle looks out of place in all this beauty, and a shiver cascades through you.

Unsure if your mind is playing tricks, you glance up at the windows, searching for any sign of the eyes you can suddenly feel upon you. Every part of the castle seems thick with shadows, empty and un-lived in. But you have heard many rumours of the man within. A twisted man who stays hidden away inside, so grotesque and sinister he hides from the world. Many stories shrouded in mystery, kept the village alight with curiosity, but all of them had the same message.

Stay away from the castle.

Maybe you are a fool for coming here, although searching for the reality from the tales was not your initial intention, but admittedly, you are surprised by your surroundings. It’s as if two different worlds coexist within the outer walls.

A garden so beautiful it wouldn't be unbelievable to see cherubs and angels holding hands and dancing around the shrubs, but with the backdrop of a dark, secret dwelling housing an angry beast.

Seeing no movement or signs of life in the many windows, you continue on your venture.

Your footsteps make no sound as you tiptoe carefully across the grass to the roses.

Such a simple flower but your unmatched favourite.

White roses remind you of your mother, a delicate, breathtaking woman who stood out everywhere she went, but with a natural, understated beauty.

Leaning down to deeply inhale the familiar scent, the promise of satin petals on your fingertips grew too much as you reached out to touch one. Your fingers glide like silk along the curled edges, tiny dew drops still inside from the morning's breath.

What you wouldn't give to just have one of these roses in your pitiful garden, but it would be too out of place and unbelonging. Much like yourself in this garden.

Placing your basket on the ground beside you and kneeling down to the bush, you want nothing more than to crawl inside its stemmed cage and stay there.

The sounds of birds chirping echo around you, as the orange afternoon sun breaks through the clouds, glowing and warming your skin slightly. Angling your face up to it and enjoying the feeling on your skin, you sit humming peacefully to yourself.

The sudden sound of a gasp from above silences you. Your eyes fly open and your head snaps up sharply to an open window on the first floor of the tower.

You manage to catch a glimpse of someone before they retreat out of sight and back into the shadow. You bolt upright to stand, frozen in place. Your eyes remain fixed in the same spot, looking for any sign of movement. The ability to call out is swallowed by fear in your throat, and so you stay silent and unmoving for what feels like an eternity before half a face peers out at you from behind the window frame.

There were many tales of the grotesque character that resides within these walls, but no mention of a man so breathtaking he could be a fairytale prince.

Perfect skin that glows in the peachy sunlight and smooth, plump lips that could make the beautiful roses in front of you envious beyond measure. The one visible dark eye, a hidden jewel in a cave of wonders, widens briefly as he meets your gaze before quickly retreating back into concealment.

"Hello?" you call out softly, finding your voice but not wanting to startle him further. "I'm sorry for intruding, but your garden is so beautiful I had to see it for myself.”

Silence.

Worrying you've made a grave mistake, you're about to turn away and leave for fear that your presence is not welcome, when a shy and yet alluring voice sounds; echoing around you.

"Please, stay and enjoy it."

Turning back up to the window, your eyes find his half-form, noticing his ivory knuckles as he clings to the window frame as if forcing himself in place.

“Thank you.” You nod and sit on the grass once again, your skirt billowing out around you. Your eyes remain stuck on his statuesque stance.

“I had no idea anyone actually lived here,” you say into the thick silence, your voice echoing across the empty grounds.

The one eye of his that you can see darts around at the woodland area beyond the walls before returning to you. Not even a whisper of a response, and so, you continue to try to find out more.

"Are you alone?" you ask, eyes roving around the castle windows once again, waiting for the beast you've heard so much about to appear.

He nods. “I've been here for many years.” He finally speaks up, but with wavering hesitance you can hear as his voice trembles.

Your brow furrows as you try to piece together this puzzle in your mind.

What could this man have done to warrant such hostile tales being told about him, or is it simply because he hides himself away that the townsfolk fear him?

He doesn't look much older than you, if he had ventured into your town you would remember him. You can't help your curiosity. “Why have I never seen you?” you question innocently.

You're not certain, but it seems as if he grimaces, shrugging into the shadows for a brief moment. “I don't really venture out much.”

How lonely he must be. Alone, in such a vast castle, hiding himself away, what a sad existence.

You are in no position to talk about anyone else's existence, as you're not exactly jumping for joy about yours, either.

Shrugging those thoughts away, you realise how impolite you're being, especially after breaking into someone else's garden and you introduce yourself.

His cheek reddens as he stammers out, “I-I’m Jimin, P-park Jimin.”

Unable to help the smile that stretches across your mouth from this endearing, timid man, you reply, “It's nice to meet you, Jimin.”

A furious blush spreads to his hairline and down his neck, a sight that not only intrigues you but warms your chest, too. Your gaze stays locked on the sight until you see his eye drift out, looking over at the expanse beyond the castle.

“The sun sets, you should not be out in the woods during darkness.”

His warning is apt and true, you know that better than anyone. Since the world of magic had taken over, nighttime is when the most demonic creatures come out to do their bidding.

Glancing back towards the gate, you know you should leave, your head screams at you to go, but something else pulls you to stay.

Almost as if he senses your hesitancy, he asks, "Will you come back again?”

A strange tightness pulls across your chest, a feeling you've never experienced before. "Would you like me to?"

"Yes," he responds, nodding eagerly, and with that one-word answer, your mind is made up.

“I can return tomorrow?” you suggest bravely, hoping you're not overstepping his boundaries, but pleasantly discover the opposite, with a half smile so breathtaking you're almost blinded.

“Tomorrow it is, then,” he says simply, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

A distant cackle snatches your attention away, a stark contrast to the sound of his melodic voice. You collect your basket and whisk yourself away, out of the garden and into the dusky woods, leaving just as quietly as you entered and running home as fast as you could before nightfall envelopes you.

Before all the monsters come out to play with the mere mortals, unable to resist their sadistic and seductive ways.

That night, you lie in bed, listening to the havoc created outside around you but unable to stop thinking of Jimin.

Seeming so meek and sweet you wonder what he's doing there all alone. Why do the village tales only ever speak of a monster who hides within the castle and not angels who could be guarding it?

He seems so desperate for company and yet, so afraid at the same time. Questions race in your mind, unable to silence them as you wonder about his story.

Who is he? Why is he in that castle all alone and hiding from the world?

You’re consumed with him until sleep takes over, and instead of the usual terror that frequently haunts your dreams, you are visited by the beautiful man in the dark tower.

Scene two

The following day, before the noon sun reaches its highest peak in the sky, you begin the journey to the castle in the woods.

Your feet seem to move of their own accord, faster than usual, with nothing but the image of the mysterious man from the tower in your mind.

The gate creaks open as you push through it, and your eyes go straight to the tower window.

You're met with only darkness.

Stepping quietly into the garden, you make your way to the rose bush, bringing you directly in sight of the window. That's when you notice them.

A bunch of five white roses, tied together with a pale pink ribbon, lay on the grass in front of the bush, the stems perfectly trimmed and now beautifully symmetrical. Gently, you skate your fingers lightly over the petals.

“Do you like them?” a soft voice sounds from above.

Your mouth pulls into a smile upon hearing his gentle tone echo around you, comforting you in an unfamiliar embrace. Although, he'd conquered your waking and sleeping thoughts since your meeting yesterday, you had not done his angelic voice justice in your mind.

You turn to greet him. “I do. Are they for me?”

Half peering out at you like before, he nods, his left cheek glowing pinkly in the sunshine.

“Thank you. I will cherish having a part of your beautiful garden in my home.”

He beams at your words and hides even more of his face further behind the wall. “They will protect you from evil.”

Glancing down at the flowers in your hand, you notice nothing out of the ordinary and wonder what he could possibly mean. “How so?”

“M-magic,” he whispers, although even that seems to echo into the silence around you.

A bird flies out of a tree nearby, squeaking loudly, and you both look over to it. The atmosphere seems to change by the mere mention of the word. Magic. Most folks tend to stay well away from anything involving that. It wasn't easily accessible or cheap to purchase, which leads you to wonder how this could be possible.

“Are you a sorcerer?” you ask, pondering the idea.

He laughs, “Unfortunately not. I was given some seeds bewitched with a spell from an enchantress. No evil can enter this garden or my home while these flowers grow here.”

Mulling that over, you stroke the petals of the flowers in your hand, feeling an odd sense of nostalgia. His words are like a blast into your past, making you miss your mother’s magic, something that, unfortunately, does not come as naturally to you.

So, as long as you have these, you will be safe from the evil that roams in the dark blanket of night. Relief fills you, alongside a hope you thought was lost long ago.

“Thank you, this is a very kind gift.” Smiling up at him, you set the flowers back down on the ground. “Speaking of gifts, I also have one for you.” Squatting down to your basket, you lift the handkerchief off to reveal the fresh loaf of bread, the mouth-watering smell hits you, but you ignore it. “I baked this loaf for you this morning; it's still warm.”

He stares down at you, still half hiding but trying to get a better view into the basket. “F-for me?”

You nod. “Would you like me to bring it to the door?”

The silence stretches on, as his eyes bounce around the garden, looking everywhere but at you. Instantly, you panic that you've made him uncomfortable, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth and quickly, you interject, “I could just leave it in the doorway, and you can collect it when you like.”

Waiting for what feels like an eternity for a response, your feet welded awkwardly to the ground, until you hear him let out a heavy sigh. “N-no, wait by the door, I'll just be a moment,” he replies quietly, as he whisks himself away back into the shadows of the tower.

Heading in the direction of the large main doors into the castle, walking slowly along the pathway through the garden, your heart beats hard within your chest, the sound echoing in your ears, and possibly loud enough to be heard on these grounds.

Slowly, you ascend the steps and wait in the large arched doorway. The wooden doors are old and carved with grotesque faces. Leaning closer, they look to have been carved crudely and without care, seemingly having been placed out of anger or fear instead.

The sound of the wood creaking makes you jump, as the door opens just enough for you to place your basket through it. An elegant hand comes out to greet you and as you place the basket handle in it, your fingertips graze his. A vision hits.

A scene playing out before your eyes.

Images flash quickly in your mind. All of you and him. A hooded Jimin.

At first, they start off with smiles and light touches before evolving into passionate nights and warm embraces. A heat cascades through your body that you've never experienced, your face feeling aflame under his hesitant, one-eyed gaze.

“Is everything ok?” he asks, concern etched in his furrowed brow.

Swallowing hard, you nod. “I'm fine.”

You do not wish to tell this stranger about your own powers of clairvoyance. If the wrong person knew, you would be punished and left outside at night for the demons. Besides, you need to determine the meaning behind this vision first, unlike any other you've had before, they are very rarely about you.

“Thank you,” he whispers, snapping you out of your thoughts as he begins to withdraw.

“Wait,” you say urgently, “won't you come and walk with me? It's a beautiful day, and I would love a tour of the garden.”

Your eyes search the dark gap in the opening, but are unable to find anything.

“I can't.” His voice is barely audible.

“I would like it very much, if you would join me,” you ask again gently, but not wanting to push or make him uncomfortable.

“No, you wouldn't, not when you see me.” The sadness in his voice makes your chest tight.

“Jimin, I don't care what you look like,” you stress, “I do, however, want to enjoy your garden, it would be a shame if I can't have the person who created such a paradise show it to me.”

You're met with only silence until you hear a long, sad sigh from inside. “I'm sorry, I can't. Please enjoy it, I need to return to my tower.”

Before you have a chance to respond, the door is closed, and you're left longing to get to know the man who could be your future.

Scene three

Several sunsets pass, each day involving a visit to Jimin’s garden where you spend your time sitting in the floral atmosphere, letting the calmness wash over you and enjoying the sun on your face.

He stays up in his tower, watching, while the two of you speak endlessly. Exchanging tales of your childhoods, memories you’d long forgotten coming to the forefront of your mind and escaping past your lips.

You explain your love of drawing, anything you see beauty in, which nowadays isn’t much, so you drew your memories and your mother.

He expresses his love of poetry, often reading by the fire every night before bed, sometimes writing his own. Whenever there’s silence it is never uncomfortable, just more time to sit and enjoy each other's company.

You discover he’s an author, having written many stories of his own. He gifted you three of his books to read after you had begged to know his writing; embarrassing him and turning his cheeks pink until he agreed.

His way with words is like nothing you have known before. Every sentence enters through you and embeds itself in your soul. Every word is a caress to your heart, feeling his poetic prose touch places inside you never knew existed.

It inspires you.

Before you can process the thought, you reach for your last bit of charcoal and let all your emotions illustrate the page, continuing on until the morning.

As soon as the sun appears over the hill beyond the view from your window, you get ready and leave, bringing your picture rolled up and tied with the same pale pink ribbon that bound your magic, undying roses.

You can’t wait to gift him a piece of your art, and if you were honest, a piece of your heart. No feeling could describe the way your entire body felt fit to burst, with the way this man made you feel. Your heart previously only beating out of necessity rather than desire. Skipping through the gate to your usual spot, you call out, “Jimin!”

Your heart pounds wildly inside you in a rhythm that is a personalised symphony just for him. You wait only a moment before he appears, smiling out at you.

“Someone is up bright and early today,” he remarks joyfully.

Seeing him, you’re always taken aback by how your memories have not done him justice at all, especially in the bright first light of morning, his flawless skin illuminated gold from the rising sun.

“I have not yet been to bed.” You laugh.

Worry creases his brow. “Whyever not? Is everything alright?”

Holding your hands up to calm his concerns, you add, “Everything’s fine, better than fine, actually.” Your feet begin to pace in circles around the white rose bush. “When I finished your books I-”

“You finished all of them? Already?” he interrupts, bewildered.

Nodding, you continue on, “How could I not? Jimin, they’re beautiful.”

His entire face reddens before he shields it with his hood, the sight makes you flustered in a way that surprises you. Making your own skin feel hot, even on this chilly morning.

Clearing your throat and swallowing to try and ease the tightness you feel, you pull your scroll out of your basket and hold it up to him. “Now, it is my turn to give something that lasts longer than a loaf of bread.”

He peeks out from his hood, eyes widening with curiosity.

“Can I?” you ask, pointing to the main wooden doors.

He hesitates briefly. “Give me a moment.”

Rushing to the entrance, almost tripping up the steps in your impatience, you wait, fiddling with your skirt nervously. When the heavy door creaks open, your heart deafens your ears, the erratic beating the only sound you can hear momentarily. You place the scroll through the gap in the doorway and watch as his slender hand comes out to take it gently from yours, his half-face appearing from the shadows.

He pulls the bowed ribbon and you watch as it falls silently to the ground. When he unrolls your parchment your eyes remain fixed to him, observing his reaction. Watching as his apprehension turns to astonishment has your heart singing with relief. His fingers reach out, kissing the paper briefly. He stutters, then stops, words disappearing into the thin air, the breeze carrying them away.

His cheeks turn scarlet again and you watch as his eyes take in the close proximity of the two of you sketched out on the paper. Inspired by the many emotions that have been building a slow crescendo inside you for the past few weeks of being in his company. You let a story of your own play out on the page, one full of hope.

The two of you; surrounded by fragrant blooms with his tower far in the distance. Your hands entwined, with your eyes on him as he looks out of the page, hood up covering half his face in shadow.

“I-it’s beautiful,” he whispers, eyes not wavering from the picture clasped tightly in his grip. “You are very talented.”

It seems to be your turn to blush now, as you glance away shyly, mumbling a thank you.

“I will frame this and hang it in my bedroom, so I can look at it every day.”

This makes your heart soar.

“Jimin?” you speak up hesitantly, not wanting to spoil his mood or ruin the moment but unable to restrain from asking again.

He meets your eyes then, “Yes?”

“Will you please accompany me in the garden today?”

His brow furrows, expression pained as he looks back down at the picture and returns his gaze to your face. Just when hope starts to fade, he sighs and nods. “Just a moment.”

Your heart jumps gleefully, rattling your chest like a caged animal desperate to escape and be reunited with its owner.

The door closes for a few minutes and, just when you think he's changed his mind, disappointment seeping in, it opens again.

Hesitantly, he steps out. His hood is pulled up over his head, as he’s focused solely on the ground, casting his whole face in darkness. You are desperate to see him, his pillowy lips and crescent moon eyes.

Slowly, you reach out and entwine your hand with his, slotting perfectly together. He stills briefly before squeezing yours in return. That confirmation is all you need. Closing the small amount of space between you and cupping half of his face, you whisper, “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, he does so. You’re surprised to see his visible eye watery with tears, almost brimming over the edge, and your heart breaks. Unable to stop yourself, you wrap him in your arms and hold him tightly, cradling him close to your body. His scent swirls around you, taking over your senses and replacing the floral scent of the garden; fresh, clean and woody. Alluring in the most intense way.

His arms wind around your waist hesitantly, and when you feel him relax in your embrace, you, too, feel the swell of emotion inside. While he had not yet spoken of what had happened to him in the past, you were hoping that one day he would trust you enough to tell you his story. Who knows, today might be the day of many firsts for you both.

Scene four

Walking hand in hand, followed with sounds of the chirping birds surrounding you through Jimin’s garden, is something you didn’t realise how much you craved, until you were doing it.

Having his hand in yours feels like a dream, after so long of waiting for this bridge between you to be crossed; unable to keep the smile off your face as you tread carefully through the grounds.

It wasn’t until this day you realised you had seen only a part of this estate. Jimin leads you through a walkway enclosed with tall rose bushes, surrounding you in a floral cage.

“Did you make this yourself?” you ask, admiring the wicker trellis.

He nods shyly, glancing slightly across at you.

You are in your element here. The days spent with him are your brightest and most enjoyed, but when the walkway ends the sight that greets you has your mouth hanging open in shock.

“Jimin,” you gasp, “this is beautiful.”

Your eyes scour your surroundings. A beautiful pond covered with lily pads and pink water lilies, is encircled by large rocks and such a variety of vibrant flowers a rainbow would be envious of the colours.

“Shall we dip our feet?” you ask, childlike excitement evident on the wide-eyed look you give him. He smiles, unable to stop, but you can sense his slight hesitation. Pulling his arm, you lead him to the edge of the water where you slip off your shoes. Sitting on the stone ledge, you gently pull him down to you. Obeying your request, he timidly joins. The water is cold as you dip your toes and as you look down into it, you’re surprised by how clean it looks; able to see right down to the bottom and the fish residing there.

“You must be in this garden all the time?” you ask, stroking his hand with your thumb.

“I used to, before…” He stops himself, and you can feel him tense beside you, turning his head away slightly.

“Hey, it’s ok. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

A frustrated breath leaves him, his head hanging in defeat. “I do want to. I want to tell you everything,” he admits, “but I must confess, I’m not used to being around other people.”

That much you had gathered, but hearing it breaks your heart just the same.

“And,” he continues, “I have never been as close to anyone as I am with you.” He glances at you then, attempting to gauge your reaction.

Smiling, your cheeks warm from such an admission, you toy with the words you should use to respond. “I’m glad to hear that, Jimin. I can assure you, the way you feel is very much reciprocated.”

He scoffs, and the sound confuses you as you attempt to find his eyes within the darkness of the hood, but to no avail. His head hangs low. “I think you underestimate my words.”

Frowning, you grasp at what he could mean by this, and panic sets in, thinking you may have the wrong idea about the direction your relationship is heading.

“I don’t expect you to mirror my feelings and believe me, you are under no obligation to keep coming here, I do not want your pity.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Jimin, I do not pity you. I’m here because I want to be.”

He finally meets your eyes, desperately searching yours. “Really?”

Taking his hand and placing it on your chest and over your pounding heart, you say, “I have never known anyone like you. Someone so…” You search for the right wording, wishing you were capable of his prose, “fascinating. You are truly an enigma to me that I'm more than happy to keep trying to figure out.”

He looks out at the water, the sunlight highlighting the pink glow of his cheeks.

“I come here because I want to spend time with you. I wake up and look forward to seeing you everyday and I will continue to come here until you are bored of my company and turn me away,” you add teasingly, but a real fear lies underneath somewhere. You silence it by looking at your hand still wrapped with his.

He laughs, “You will never have to worry about that, I could never tire of your company, you mean far too much to me.”

Your chest tightens with an emotion you cannot hide as you lean your head on his shoulder. He moves taut under your action, but quicker than you could imagine, he softens under your touch and leans his head atop of yours. You sit there for what feels like hours, talking and basking in the warmth of the late afternoon sun until the skin of your feet turns pruned and your stomach grumbles, breaking another comfortable silence. It is only when a demonic screech echoes from the woods outside of the walls, do you realise the time.

Jumping up, water splashing as you do, you look at the setting sun and gasp. “Oh, no.”

The darkness has begun and you will not have enough time to make it home. Images of your mother’s lifeless form haunt your mind briefly before you force them away.

Jimin is up and at your side in a flash, arm cradling your shoulders. “It's ok. You're safe here,” he says gently, rubbing one of your arms with his thumb. The action soothes you and brings you comfort. “Come, you can stay with me tonight, I have many rooms.”

You relax slightly in his embrace and find yourself sinking into the crook under his arm, relishing in the close contact you've been craving. He pulls you closer, a firm grip around you and pins you to his side.

Your arm ventures under his cloak and winds around his waist, holding yourself against him.

Glancing up, he's already smiling down at you and you can't stop the blush that heats your entire face.

You both head back towards the castle, you nestled against him as the darkness slowly envelopes you. When you head up the stone steps to the castle, nerves turn in your stomach, the realisation of spending the night in his home dawning on you.

Watching the doors close, shutting out the night and the chaotic noise from outside, you sigh to yourself, feeling surprisingly at home with his warmth and presence by your side.

Scene five

The tour of the castle is long but riveting. So many rooms to explore, and he shows you every single one. Pointing out various art pieces handed down from his parents, endless novels in the library, and even an old dungeon below, unused and dusty.

He discloses that his father had died when he was little, too young to remember him, but that he has a portrait of him in his mother's bedroom he often looks at. His mother had passed away when he was fifteen, after becoming ill during a harsh winter and grew too weak to recover. He has been alone ever since. Your heart aches for him. To have been alone since then must have been truly isolating, but you could relate to him in more ways than you care to admit.

You share your story of your beautiful mother, enchanting to everyone who knew her, who had been killed by the demons just after your 18th birthday. A father who you have never known and, as far as you had been told, had never been in the picture. All you knew about him was that he was a sailor and from what your mother expressed, was more in love with the sea than her.

You learnt not to ask questions about him as it only made her sad and distant.

Your shared experience with loss and loneliness cements your bond further as he shows you the room you could sleep in, adjacent to his.

“You will be safe here. I will be right across the hall if you need me at all.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand as your fingers stay entwined the entire route through the castle.

“Jimin?” you interject.

He looks over at you, hood still pulled over, casting half his face in shadow.

“Will you take this off?” you ask, fingering the soft velvet of his cloak.

He stares at you but his eyes soon turn distant as a frown furrows deep in his brow, a scene playing out in his mind that you are not privy to. “I cannot let you see,” he whispers.

You turn him to face you, cupping his visible cheek in your hand. “I promise you, Jimin, it will not change how I feel about you.”

He laughs sadly, “It will.”

“Park Jimin, are you calling me shallow?” raising an eyebrow, you challenge him.

He simply shakes his head. “I'm a monster. You shouldn't even be wasting your time here with me.”

“You could never be a monster, your soul is far too pure and good.”

Slowly leaning up on your tiptoes, you place a chaste kiss against his cheek. “Please, don't hide from me anymore,” you beg.

His eye widens from the touch of your lips and he can't help but turn towards you, focused on your mouth. When his hand comes up to stroke your hair, you lean into his touch and before you know it, your lips are connected. Heat races through you, making your limbs move without thought, hands sliding inside his hood and around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you.

His arm winds around your waist as he moans into the kiss, desire and love vibrating through you. His soft, pillowy lips mould to yours, moving with fierce determination as your back suddenly meets the doorframe of your bedroom. His hands slide up your spine, pinning you against him. You luxuriate at the feeling of the strong muscles of his body pressed against you.

Wrapped up in his scent, with the feeling of his mouth on yours and his hands embracing you so tightly, your bosom grows with the love your heart has housed for him, still expanding tightly inside you.

You pull away slightly only to gasp for air, and that's when you notice his fallen hood. His body stills when your eyes connect and you see the panic in them, but before he can move, you grab his hands and entwine your fingers with his.

“I hope you are planning on kissing me again, because I don't plan on moving just yet?”

He doesn't respond, but his gaze drifts to your lips and you can see the conflict in his eyes, between running away and giving into temptation.

Detangling your fingers from his, you cup his face with both hands, your thumb strokes the puckered skin on one side of his face. The scars appear like burns, covering one side of him, marring one eye so bad he could barely see out of it. Your fingers go to his thin hair on that side, patches of it missing beneath your fingertips, he looks down and away from you but you steer him back.

“This doesn't change anything, Jimin. You're still the most beautiful man I've encountered.”

His eyes flit from each of yours, tears brimming the edges, searching for truth within them.

“I would like you to kiss me again,” you say, your voice thick with want, “please.”

Leaning in slowly, he surrenders to your request, pressing his mouth against you once more.

Scene six

When your desire subsides somewhat and your head clears, the two of you manage to part from each other, your growling stomach interrupting the shy silence.

“Shall we eat?” he asks, before taking your hand and leading you down to the kitchen.

Sitting at the table, you watch in awe as he prepares fresh tomato soup to go with the second loaf you had given him yesterday on your visit. All vegetables grown in his garden and picked by him.

You eat together in silence, exchanging flirtatious and sometimes shy smiles. When your stomachs are full, with night truly closed in, he lights a fire in the drawing room, closes the curtains, and beckons you to join him on the fur rug.

Watching him in the orange light of the fire, you feel overwhelmed with need. The need to be close to him, the need to take care of him and protect him, even the need to claim him, something you have never felt before.

“Will you read to me?” you ask, as you join him.

“If that is what you wish of me, then of course.” He grins, and you get lost in it for a moment. The way his two front teeth slightly overlap, his eyes narrowing and his cheeks rounding, everything about him draws you further into the opening blossom of love.

“May I lay on you?” you ask, pointing to his lap.

He stares at you hesitantly for a moment, before nodding and moving his hands out of your way.

Positioning yourself comfortably on the rug, you lay your head on his legs, feeling the way he tenses slightly from the action but soon relaxes under you.

His hand lingers by your hair indecisively before he pushes any apprehension away and plays with the strands loosely between his fingers. “What would you like me to read?” his voice whispers pleasantly above the crackling firewood.

“Something you've written.”

“Would you like to hear the poem I wrote for you?”

Your heart soars, hammering wildly in your chest. “You wrote something for me?”

“Hmm-mm.”

You nod frantically, nerves suddenly drying your mouth and rendering you speechless.

He clears his throat quietly and starts,

“In the quiet din of morning's light,

You creep silent and curious into my domain,

An alluring spectre; a breathtaking sight,

Welcomed like that first sweet kiss of spring rain.

The roses bend to catch your gaze,

And the dainty lilies stretch in quiet grace,

As if the garden, in silent praise,

Seeks to beholden the awe of your face.

Your fingers brush the leaves so light,

A touch that makes the greenery hum,

Like a velvety kiss of soft delight,

Or warmth from the day to come.

You pause to take in your fill,

Ivy curling in lazy spirals at your feet,

And for a moment, time stands still,

Even the songbirds pause their larking for a beat.

I watch you, quiet like a shade,

As you explore the blooms beyond my window,

Careless and free, with no mind paid,

Like a beacon of light against unrelenting shadow.

With every glance, you draw me near,

But still I keep my secret held tight,

Afraid you’ll flee if you could hear,

The pain that shapes my heart at night.

Yet in your eyes, I see a spark,

A light that calls to me, calm and clear,

A love that could find me in the dark,

And chase away my most crippling fear.

I wear this pain, my broken mask,

Staying hidden within my castle walls,

But it's in your warmth and light that I wish to bask,

A blue flower in your garden; no longer a ghost of these hallowed halls.”

A wet trail down your cheek spills onto his trousers, a swell of emotion that you could no longer contain. His angelic voice quoting such beautiful prose from memory creates a whirlwind of feelings inside you. Seeing yourself through his eyes and hearing his feelings, so raw and open, moves you in ways you could never have imagined.

You feel beautiful and emboldened.

Sitting up, your eyes meet. He smiles sweetly when he sees your tears and gently wipes them away with his thumb. Pressing your lips to his, the inability to stand the distance between you any longer overwhelms you.

As he holds you in his arms and you lose yourself in the kiss. A vision snaps behind your eyes, removing you from the moment entirely. Unlike the first one, full of love and happiness, this one freezes the blood in your veins and stops it cold as you take in every detail of the horror behind your eyes.

Fire wilts the flowers in the garden, petals curling and turning to ash. Orange light blinding and thick smoke choking, tightening your heaving chest. Demons running rampant through the grounds as you wander unsteadily to find him. And when you do, everything else around you ceases to exist, as your heart splits inside you.

Jimin's lifeless body, upturned and suspended from the tower.

#ksmutsociety #thebtswritersclub #thevelvetvault #lapydiariesnet #kvanity #bangtanwhq #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #park jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfiction #bts jimin fanfic #jimin angst #jimin fluff #bts #park jimin #jimin #bts jimin fanfiction #bts jimin x reader #bts jimin

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 3 months ago

Note

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ONE OF THE BEST AUTHORS ON THIS PLATFORM.

I have a request is there any way you could do the “I’ve never met anyone as infuriating as you, and I can’t stop thinking about you" prompt but with Zoro. Having a female reader just recently joined the crew only for them to be enemies. Both of them have a history of being enemies and now the whole crew sees them fight so the other is 5ft feet under. Only for them to be confused as to why their heart beats like crazy around each other.

Would really appreciate it if you did my request! 🥰🙏

Thank you so much for your kind words @mars-mizuko and @beachaddict48 🥰🥰 I love reading your reactions to my little silly stories and I tried my hardest to make you happy with this request! It turned out a bit bigger than the others, but I don't want to limit myself with the story I want to tell and I've accepted that some requests will have bigger fics than others! I do sincerely hope you enjoy this! Thank you for participating in the event and for all of your support!

Source for Pic

Backstabber

Word Count: 3637

Tags: fem!reader; enemies to lovers; suggestive content; implied sex; cursing; sexual tension; idiots in love;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You never thought you'd meet the infamous bounty hunter Roronoa Zoro again after four years apart. Yet here you are, part of his crew, and all he wants is to get rid of you.

|Masterlist|

“No, Luffy.”

Two words. Just two words and I already want to rip his head off his shoulders. This is gonna be great!

“Why?” Luffy cocks his head to the side, his pinky reaching inside his nose in search of the annoyance there.

“Shut up, Mosshead!” Sanji growls, his face close to Zoro’s closed-off expression. “Luffy, yes. She would be the most wonderful addition to our crew.”

Aw, see, the cook’s nice!

“She’s not trustworthy.” The swordsman has both his eyes closed but you can see the way his jaw ticks as he tries to keep his emotions at bay.

“Ditto, Roronoa, yet I just helped save your ass.” You bite back. Two can play the accusation game. It’s actually been four years since the last time you saw Roronoa Zoro. He was skinnier then, less… bulk. Still the same asshole, though.

His eye snaps open and you notice yet another difference. He’s more dangerous, ruthless, and predatory. “Measure your words, Backstabber. I’m not the same man I was four years ago.”

You inch forward, squaring your shoulders and measuring up to his height, even if you can’t reach it. “It’s too bad I am not the same woman I was four years ago, either.”

Nami and Robin watch the interaction with veiled smirks. Sanji is seething and being restrained by Franky to prevent him from attacking Zoro for speaking rudely to a lady.

“Welcome her in, Luffy.” Robin says with a hint of amusement in her voice.

“I’d say she fits right in, Cap.” Nami says with a chuckle.

And just like that, you’re welcomed into the most dysfunctional pirate crew you’ve ever met.

-*-

You and Zoro don’t like each other. Period. There’s no truce, there isn’t even a semblance of a fake peace. It’s an all-out conflict between the two of you and the Sunny has become an active warzone.

“I don’t want you anywhere near my space, Backstabber!”

“You don’t own the ship, Roronoa!”

Nami accepts the refreshment Sanji brings her and sighs, tilting her head up to where the two of you are bickering. You just wanted to train and shake away inertia, and the crow’s nest is where the barbells are.

But nooo, Mr. Salty claims that this is his space! As if he fucking owns the ship.

“LUFFY!” You both yell out the window trying to get your captain to resolve your issue this time.

“It’s been a week.” Robin says weakly from her perch on the lawn chair.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Nami whispers back to her.

“Guys, make it stop, they’re so loud!” Chopper whines as he cuddles in Robin’s lap.

Luffy, bless him, doesn’t even move from his spot, so you sigh, pushing your index finger and thumb against the bridge of your nose trying to contain the massive migraine threatening to settle behind your eyes.

“Look here, Roronoa, we have to make this work. Whether we like it or not, we are now Nakama and-...”

“I could never be your Nakama!” He hisses, dropping the barbell near his feet with the loudest thud imaginable. Sweat drips from his hair and runs down his temples, making the vein there glisten as it throbs menacingly. His (big, muscular, defined) chest heaves from barely contained rage and you force your eyes to settle back on his face because, somehow, the sight of his sweaty, glistening pecs turns you hot and bothered for reasons that have nothing to do with anger.

“Well boo-freaking-hoo. Learn to deal with it, will you? You’re a big boy.” You say slowly, emphasising each word with a step in his direction. You’re taken aback by your closeness when his scent envelops you and dazes you in more ways than one.

It’s familiar and comforting: steel, salt, sweat…

But it’s also intoxicating and dangerous and new…

Fuck.

-*-

It’s only been one week and Zoro is ready to throw you overboard. Too bad you don’t have a devil fruit or he could watch you sink without a hint of remorse. That being the case, it would just be funny as hell to watch you get pissed off at him while soaking wet.

Wet like you are now.

He found you in the middle of your workout in his crow’s nest using his training equipment in his space. You’d been there long enough for sweat to make your hair cling to your forehead, for your top to turn a darker shade and cling sinfully to your curves, and for your sweet scent to mingle with his sanctuary, making his head spin.

Zoro feels like growling, though he’s not sure if he’s growling for the right reasons.

And now you’re approaching him with fearless steps, your finger pointing at him accusingly, while your lusciously plump lips form words: ‘boo-freaking-hoo’. And all he can think about is how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

“Get the fuck out.” He growls for real this time and you stop pacing. He knows he’s giving off a dangerous aura and he means it. Because his heart is doing some freaking weird shit he doesn’t want to dissect right now and he needs you out of his sight.

Immediately.

It’s a good thing you obey and scurry out - still pissed and calling him all sorts of names, though - because the strain in his pants was about to force him to bend you over the nearest surface and have his way with you.

And he definitely can’t do that.

-*-

Eventually, with mediation from Robin and Franky, you and Zoro settle on a schedule for using the crow’s nest to train. It’s not so hard, since Zoro spends half the morning and afternoon napping, leaving you plenty of time for your daily workout.

“Why do you and Zoro hate each other?” Chopper asks innocently during lunch, and the table falls into an awkward silence. No one tries to change the subject since everyone’s curious.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as memories from the past come rushing back. You and Zoro used to bounty hunt together. You met randomly while tracking the same wanted pirate. After beating the pirate’s crew and helping each other out, you split the bounty and became friends.

From then on, the friendship blossomed. Zoro had an easier laugh before, he wasn’t so guarded, so closed off.

Did I cause him to be like that?

You bonded. Actually, so much more than that, you were head over heels for him. The whole works: stomach aflutter with butterflies, fireworks exploding behind closed eyelids, a drum instead of a heart.

And then there was a misunderstanding. You got a tip about a small-time fry, barely 6k berries, hardly worth your time. But the asshole was harassing a town and you knew you could take him alone. Zoro was collecting a previous bounty so you didn’t even tell him where you were going.

Turns out the fry wasn’t easy or small. It was huge. It was 16k, not 6k, and he was a tough nut to crack. You could’ve used Zoro’s strength, but you managed. Scraped, bruised but prideful. When you went to collect, intending to share the bounty with him, Zoro was beyond angry. He found out where you’d gone and assumed you’d gone behind his back to collect the bounty and the fame for yourself.

Things escalated. You fell out with each other.

Over a freaking misunderstanding.

You were stubborn as fuck. And you soon found out he was equally stubborn, if not more. So here you were. Still mad at each other over something that had happened more than four years ago.

“We just don’t get along, Chopper. We used to be friends, and then… we stopped.”

Zoro’s glass nearly shatters with the force he uses to set it down on the table. “Bullshit, Backstabber.”

“Stop calling me that, asshole.”

“Guys, guys, you’re at the table…” Franky starts.

“Backstabber? Why? You went behind my back and collected a huge bounty without telling me. That sounds like backstabbing to me!”

“You didn’t even let me explain!” You rise, palms slapping against the wood, causing your water glass to turn and spill.

“What was there to explain? How you got greedy? How you abandoned me without a word? Because that shit stung more than the fucking bounty!”

You gasp and take a step back, grasping the underlying hurt in his words. Abandoned him…? Is that what he thinks happened?

“I… I never meant to abandon you…” Lowering your eyes, you sense the crew shifting uncomfortably under your words.

Zoro is silent.

Just as you raise your head to meet his eyes, a cannon blast shakes the ship, forcing the crew outside to battle an oncoming enemy.

-*-

In the heat of the battle, all animosities are forgotten. You and Zoro move as one, even after four years apart, you can still fight back to back as you used to. It’s both exhilarating and overwhelming.

Zoro still hasn’t calmed the frenzied rhythm of his heart. You had claimed you never meant to abandon him. Were you speaking the truth? Because, as far as he knew, you had chosen to leave him behind, collect the big bounty and disappear from his life without ever looking back.

That had been the biggest disappointment he'd faced in a long while. After four years, he thought you were part of his past. No longer a constant presence in his mind, or worse, in his dreams.

You were gone, and good riddance.

What were the chances of him meeting you again in the Grand Line, anyway?

The Marines attacking the Straw Hats are predictably weak, but there are many of them and Zoro is distracted by the earlier conversation. Apparently, so are you, because there’s no way in hell four-years-ago-you would’ve let that attack slip through your defences, let alone now-you.

Zoro grunts and slices through the three Marines in front of him to reach the bastard pinning you against the Sunny’s wall. His sword blade pressed to your throat, your arm laying limp and bloodied, rendered useless for the rest of the fight.

“I’m gonna count to three and before I fucking reach two, you’d better have let go of her and be out of my fucking sight, or you’ll lose your limbs one by one to my blades. Starting with that hand.” He growls as he notices the Marine pressing his hand against your chest to keep you pinned to the wall.

-*-

Fuck, that was hot.

How can your heart be racing this fast when you’re facing possible death at the hands of a freaking weak Marine? You have no idea how you got into this position. You know how to fight better than any of these army fools!

You were distracted, dumbass.

Yeah, you were distracted. You were thinking about the possibilities and the what-ifs of four years ago, if only you had spoken to Zoro before he thought you abandoned him. And all that thinking got you pinned to the wall with an injured arm and a blade to your throat.

“One…” Zoro starts counting and you hold your breath. You’ve seen him fight, the Marine better run. “Two…”

His voice is eerily calm, but the intensity of his words leaves no room for argument. He’s dangerous, he’s lethal, and he’s not playing games.

Even though the Marine drops you unceremoniously and starts to run, you know he isn't getting far. The manic grin on Zoro’s face just before he slashes the Marine makes the critters in your belly flutter and dance all at once.

Fuck.

Zoro did start with his hand.

-*-

“She’s fine!” Chopper exclaims as he steps out of the infirmary with a wide smile, his hoof clasping your uninjured hand as you join your Nakama by the galley. The crew receives you with cheers and you feel a bit ashamed. You wanted to prove your worth but the battle didn’t go the way you meant it to. Still, none of them make you feel unworthy.

Robin fusses over you, Luffy tries to hug you before Nami stops him with a punch, Usopp is already retelling the tale of the thousand Marines who attacked you and Sanji glides to your side with a refreshment and amiable words, worried, anxious and happy you’re safe.

And that’s where Zoro draws the line. “Can we talk?” His gruff voice rolls over you like a caress, and you bite the inside of your cheek trying to snap out of it.

“Yeah.” You follow him to the crow’s nest unsure of what he wants to say. The entire walk is wrapped in piercing silence, tension hanging like a thick fog. Once you arrive, you’re too wound up to sit, so you start pacing.

“Explain.” He says, apparently too wound up to sit as well.

The fuck?

“Explain what?”

“What you meant at lunch.”

You try to cross your arms over your chest, but the injured limb is still out of action so, instead, you place your good hand on your hip and stamp your foot. “Listen, honey,” you mock, “you better start using your big boy words because I’m not going to play riddles with you and-...”

Your sentence is cut short when he takes two strides forward, forcing you to step back until you collide with the training bars. Zoro’s face is inches from yours and the ticking in his jaw is back.

His eye pins yours, and your legs wobble under the intensity of his stare. “I’ve never met anyone as infuriating as you,” he drawls, slamming his hand against the bars beside your face. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The world spins as you suck in a breath, trying to understand his words. What does he mean?

“I can’t stop thinking about your lips…” His thumb presses against your lower lip, tracing it roughly. “I can’t stop thinking about kissing your neck.” His lips brush against the pulse on your neck, teeth nibbling and pinching. “I can’t stop thinking about you… squirming under me!”

Zoro’s hand gropes the flesh of your hip, his fingers sinking in, pulling a soft moan from your lips. “Tell me to stop.” He whispers, his tongue tracing your earlobe with sinful licks. “Fuck. Just say the words.”

Your head falls back against the bars in abandon as his hand drops from your hips, fingers inching under the waistband of your jeans.

“Don’t stop.” You sigh.

And he doesn’t.

-*-

“I didn’t abandon you.” You’re still in bliss after the moment you just shared. You had thought about this, fantasied, dreamed, imagined… every possible variation of what just happened. But it was still better. “I didn’t know the pirate had a 16k berries bounty. I thought it was 6k. I was going to take care of him, call it a day and meet you to collect the bounty.”

Zoro’s still, his chest still heaving slightly, sweat clinging sinfully to where your mouth had been moments ago.

“But then you left, thinking I betrayed you, without giving me a chance to explain before disappearing from my life.” Your legs are still shaking and aching. Zoro was brutal and intense. And you loved every second of it.

“Well that makes sense…” He says as his expression softens.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your disbelief makes you face him with a scowl and bared teeth.

“Look at how much fun we could’ve been having for four years instead of hating each other. My bad, I guess!” His cheeky grin only makes you seethe more and you scramble to your feet to collect your clothes and leave him there.

“Unbelievable! You’re an ass, Zoro.” You state as you open the hatch to leave him and his smugness behind.

“Meet me later?”

The blush spreads from your cheeks to your nose and then to your ears as you face him. If looks could kill, he’d be a dead man. You show him the middle finger before closing the hatch. “After dinner in this spot. Be naked and don’t be late. Asshole.”

Roronoa Zoro used to be a friend, then an enemy, then a Nakama… now you can’t deny all the fluttering in your belly when he looks at you. But the fluttering’s fine. You can live with that, it’s actually exhilarating.

It’s the frenzied beating of your heart that you have a problem with. That, and the clenching in your chest when you and Zoro gaze at each other.

That’s what scares you.

-*-

Dinner that evening is the tensest meal you’ve had on the Sunny since joining the crew. On the outside everything looks normal. Luffy is eating from everybody’s plate, Sanji is fawning over Nami, Robin and you, and Usopp is entertaining the table with how he single-handedly defeated one hundred marines in the fight you had earlier.

But every time you glance at Zoro, he’s pinning you under his gaze, an infuriating smirk lifting the corner of his lips as he downs an entire bottle of sake. You try your damn hardest to focus on the food in front of you instead of letting your mind revisit the most mind-shattering and intense moment of your life.

Nami asks if you’re alright and you weakly respond with a yes, saying that you’re just tired from the fight, but you don’t miss her curious expression when she catches the way Zoro is staring at you. Fuck. If he doesn’t stop doing that, he might as well wear a sign on his forehead saying you just had sex.

Bastard.

Zoro leaves first and after helping Sanji clear the plates - even if he vehemently refuses your help - you make your way up to the crow’s nest. You told Zoro to be waiting naked, but you’re actually having second thoughts. Has he forgiven you for what happened four years ago? Have you forgiven him for not even wanting to hear your explanations?

You’re not even sure if you’re friends, acquaintances, enemies or something else entirely. And that needs to be settled.

Taking a deep steadying breath before opening the hatch, you brace yourself for whatever is coming, but you can’t help a small squeak from escaping your lips as you see Zoro waiting for you, bare-chested, cross-legged and leaning up against the bars.

“You’re late, Backstabber.”

“Your pants are still on, Mr. Salty.”

He chuckles and the sound makes your heart skip a beat weirdly. Should you talk to Chopper about this? It seems like something you should worry about.

Zoro moves away from the bars and takes a step your way, that smug grin tilting his lips in an endearing way. “You want them off that bad?”

You take another step back, though your legs feel like jelly. “Smug asshole.”

He doesn’t answer you with a cheeky reply and his lips turn into a thin line again. That same closed-off expression he had when you first joined and now it seems like the step back you took was a step back in… whatever this is.

“Look…” He says your name while scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry. About the way things ended between us all that time ago. It seems silly to still be upset about it, especially now that you’ve explained yourself.”

You nod, agreeing and there’s a lightness to your chest that wasn’t there before. A sort of closure to that chapter of your lives, something you’ve carried with you even if you were unaware of it.

“Also,” he continues as he takes another step forward. This time you don’t back away. “About what I said the other day - about us not being Nakama - I didn’t mean it that way.” He sighs and reaches for your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle. “I was just angry.”

“Are you still angry?” You ask, your breath catching slightly in your throat.

Zoro’s finger brushes the inside of your wrist, absentmindedly. “I don’t even know.” He lets out a sigh that resembles a grunt and tugs at your wrist, pulling you to him. “But I know I can’t go another day without you, let alone four years.”

Your heart skips another beat as his words sink in, and this time it continues to beat in this weird staccato rhythm. “Then don’t…” You finally murmur, pressing yourself against him, feeling the heat of his skin against your fingers.

He grins again, that shit-eating grin he used to give you back when things were still fine. “Good.” He drawls out as he pinches your chin and crashes his lips against yours in a desperate claim. His touch electrifies you and tingles in places it shouldn’t, lighting you up from within and making you feel more alive than ever.

-*-

Time passes and something shifts. The crew notices it since you bicker less. You’re pretty sure Nami and Robin know what is going on between the both of you, though they don’t say anything. But it should be a dead giveaway since you’re ‘training’ together now instead of sticking to your separate training schedule.

You still argue on a daily basis, though now there’s an underlying understanding that wasn’t there before. You’re not arguing out of past sorrows, hurt, or unresolved conflict. You’re arguing because it’s just your nature. And you notice that there’s something deeper in your connection. Those skipped beats of your heart, that fluttering in your belly… Those are all part of something far more intense that you don’t want to name yet. But you realise that there’s no rush in naming whatever you have. You have time.

Because Zoro might still call you ‘Backstabber’ with an annoyingly smug smirk, and you might call him ‘Mr. Salty’ with equal fervour now and again, but at the end of the day, you’re both exactly where you want to be: right beside each other.

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #op #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #reader insert #reader x zoro #you x zoro #zoro x you #birthday event

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dxncingwithastrxnger · 24 days ago

Text

a heart that's mine completely (Obey Me!)

A/N: Day 4 done! Later than yesterday but I'm just glad I got it done cause I'm tired, lmao. Funnily enough, my brain kept insisting on making this one longer and if I wasn't on the verge of falling asleep, I probably would've made this longer. But alas, sleep is calling me, so I must hurry up and get this posted. Happy reading!

Pairing(s): Satan x MC

Prompt(s): 4. Satan

Summary: MC invites Satan to bake cookies with them and Satan's love for them grows even more.

Tag(s): Fluffy, suggestive/implied nsfw at the end!

Word Count: 656

Song Inspiration: Underneath the Tree by Kelly Clarkson

Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Series Masterlist]

[Read on AO3]

[Author Masterlist]

~*~

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31]

~*~

“You want…me to bake Christmas cookies with you?” Blonde hair shifts as the Avatar of Wrath tilts his head to the side in confusion, just like a puppy, ironically. “Why not ask Beel, or Barbatos, or Luke, or Simeon?” His words aren’t meant to be harsh or negative in any way. He’s genuinely wondering why he was chosen for this particular activity. Out of everyone, he’s not some baker or chef or foodie the way those other four are. So…why?

The human standing in front of him just shakes their head with a chuckle. “Because it’s one of my favorite Christmas activities and I wanted to share that with you. I figured it could be a chance for you to try something new and a chance for me to share a piece of myself with you.”

His eyes widen slightly before he smiles, his cheeks turning pink. “Heh. Well, when you put it that way, there’s no way that I can say no, now is there?”

MC beams at him in reply, embracing him tightly. “Good! I already have all the stuff we need gathered, so we just have to start putting it all together now!” And with that, the demon is dragged into the nearby kitchen, where many ingredients are already out and waiting to be put to use, just like they said.

Satan looked at everything before turning to the other. “Are these all from the human world?” He questions curiously.

They nod at him. “Yep! I wanted to make some traditional holiday cookies from the human world, if that was okay?”

The blonde demon reaches over and brushes the back of his hand down the side of their face. “I’d love to. Please, teach me.” He gestures to everything in front of them. “I’ll hang on to every word you speak.”

It was MC’s turn to blush now, shaking their head at him. “Well, we better get to it, then.”

A few hours later, they had multiple dozens of both sugar cookies and gingerbread cookies, either cooling on racks or being actively decorated by both of them. Or, mostly just one of them, considering Satan couldn’t keep his eyes off of the human dancing around the kitchen and using a bag of icing as a microphone as they sang along to the human world Christmas carols filling the room.

They seemed so…free. And he found it absolutely mesmerizing. Do they really not know how enchanting they are? Who can focus on anything else when they’re here looking like that?

Satan thought he had been doing pretty well at attempting to focus on the task at hand, actually getting quite a few cookies done himself, but it seems his thoughts have caught up to him, as now he’s been caught red-handed, MC’s eyes locking with his as they turn back to their decorating station, a pretty blush lighting up their cheeks, which in turn causes the same reaction on his face. Well, too late to hide it now, he supposes.

Before he even realizes his feet are moving, he’s rounding the corner of the island and walking up to them, cradling their face and pulling them into a loving kiss. MC returns his kiss immediately, wrapping their arms around his neck. Satan sighs happily into the kiss, wrapping both arms around them and pulling them close. It’s MC who chooses to deepen the kiss and he’s all happy to oblige, feeling a sudden need to have them as close to him as possible. To feel all of them against him. And because of this rising need within him, all it takes is a playful nip to his bottom lip and he’s lost. He gathers his human up in his arms, their legs wrapping around him automatically, and quickly carries them out of the kitchen, heading straight for his room, the cookies long forgotten. No one will see either of them until the next day.

~*~

A/N: Satan, my love, please come romance me <3 Thank you all for reading!! See you for tomorrow's story!!

~*~

Taglist:

@dutifullyuniversallykingdom

@om-adventcalendar

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!!

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ash-whimsicalfanfic · 2 years ago

Note

I was wondering if you can please write fanfic. Where the reader is a mother of young twins who is fiercely protective of them because one of them is completely colorblind and the other one is going deaf and nobody on the team knows of their existence.

So one day her babysitter can’t work or something do whatever you like at this part, but basically, the NCIS team finds out about the twins and her fierceness protectiveness and Leroy Jethro is like ok I’m kinda in love with you to you’re officially Mrs. Gibbs five and have fun with it.

Do whatever you like with this and I hope you enjoy writing it. I hope you have a wonderful year a wonderful month in your writing is amazing and I appreciate you.

Fierce Love

Leroy Jethro Gibbs X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Flashbacks, Mentions of SA, Kidnapping, Mild Language, Violence, Guns, Blood, Suggestive, Angst, Fluff, etc.

Prompt: You are a mother of young twins, one who is colorblind and the other who is going deaf. The team doesn’t know of their existence until something happens to the babysitter who so happens to be your goddaughter. The team finds that you are fiercely protective and fiercely in love with your kids. But, this stands out more to Gibbs because he’s been trying to figure out for

Sidenotes: I used a scene from “The Rookie”, not to the exact measures, but similar.

You look down at the twins you held, your eyes instantly teary as you looked at the two bundles that saved you. They were perfect with their ten fingers, their ten toes, their tiny noses, their tiny lips and their healthy selves.

Adeline Iridessa Y/L/N, you sweet baby girl who was younger by a few minutes. Then her older brother by only minutes, Alexander Archer Y/L/N.

"Mommy will always protect you." You whisper softly.

"Ms. Y/L/N, I'm afraid to tell you that Adeline is colorblind. Alexander is rapidly losing hearing and we fear he may be deaf." Dr. Bryant explains.

You were silent for a moment, trying to soak in this information. You look at the twins for a moment before turning back to him.

"Is there anything we can do to try and preserve and maybe even salvage what hearing Alex has?" You ask.

"We could try some tubes, however I fear that his case is too severe. Here are some pamphlets. This will help Alexander if he needs to learn sign language. It's always good starting them off at a young age anyway. They tend to retain the language better and he will be better. You may want to also have Adeline learn the language for her brother as well." He explains.

You nod, looking at the twins who were wide awake, looking around curiously. Your heart aches knowing that Adeline will never get to see such beautiful colors because she has achromatopsia color blindness and then Alexander will eventually lose his hearing altogether.

4 YEARS LATER

You were sitting at your bullpen, trying to figure out how to make their 5th birthday party the best birthday ever for them. You know you probably spoiled them too much, but they were your babies and you'd be damned if you ever let something happen to them.

The thought of sending them to school was agonizing. Knowing that they were getting older was scary. These were your babies and the thought of anything happening to them sent you into a protective mode instantly.

"Alright, what do we have?" Gibbs asks, coming back from getting coffee.

Tony, Ziva and Tim immediately are up and fighting to tell their finds. However, Gibbs was focused on you who seem distracted on something.

Gibbs was able to read everyone. However, after four years of working for him, he still was trying to figure you out. Almost everything about your file was confidential. He was so brutal on you when you first came here, however he has gotten better over time.

The elevator doors open and everyone turns back. You stand slowly as you see your twins exit the elevator hand in hand with your neighbor following behind them.

"Mommy!" Adeline squeals, running to you and hugging you.

You squat down, hugging her and Alexander. You gently push them back and look to Alexander, signing, "What's wrong baby boy?"

He looked pale and like he wasn't feeling the greatest. Which was strange because before you left this morning, you made sure to make sure both were tucked in and weren't running fevers.

He sighs, signing, "Just worried and tired." You frown, gently guiding them both behind your desk, lifting them both into your chair before your neighbor walks to you.

"Y/N/N, Lexi answered the door this morning and their was a man there who was claiming to be the twins' father. The twins followed your "game" as Adeline put it if a stranger shows up. Lexi was taken by that man. And I came over here as fast I could." She explains.

You let a slow breath out as your heart rate picks up. Lexi was a good girl. She was your older sisters daughter. Lexi made you realize how much you wanted kids of your own. Lexi was like a daughter to you. You look at the twins, knowing that Lexi would do anything for them—just like you—which is probably how she ended up in this situation to begin with.

"Thank you, Bebe. You did the right thing." You say.

"Do you want me to take the twins so that you can work and get Lexi back?" She asks.

"No, no, it's alright. I think I'd feel better knowing they are with me. Thank you, Bebe. I'd say yes if I felt safe about it, but their father is...a very unpredictable man. I don't want to put you or the twins in danger." You explain.

It made you feel guilty, like you didn't trust Bebe, but thankfully she understood where you were coming from. She gave you a big hug, promising that everything would be okay and that Lexi was a tough girl. You knew Lexi was tough. You also knew Lexi would have left clues for you. She leaves and you turn to your team who was watching.

"You have kids?" Tony asks surprised.

"Yes." You say a bit more defensively than you expected, moving in front of the twins.

"Hey, easy there mama bear. I'm just surprised. You have no pictures and you've never mentioned them." He says, putting his hands up in surrender.

You clench your jaw, choosing to keep silent. These were your babies. You know your team wouldn't do anything to them. You knew that they'd protect them just as fiercely as you. However, your protective side was running wild knowing their father was after them and knowing he had Lexi.

Gibbs was staring at you, a small smirk on his lips. He could finally read you and put every piece to the puzzle together about you. It was like you were an open book right now.

I'm so in love with her, he thinks to himself.

"That's a pretty dress you have on sweetie. Is pink your favorite color?" Ziva asks and your heart clenches.

"Adeline can't see colors. She has achromatopsia color blindness. Alexander is deaf...he lost all of his hearing by the time he was one. He knows sign language though. So does Adeline. He can also read lips very well. Both of them can. Even though Adeline can talk, sign language and reading lips is a second nature to her." You explain.

You didn't realize you were nervously rambling, but the team did and smiled softly. They understood the normal moms fierce love for their child, however yours was far fiercer and far more protective. And it wasn't because you were an NCIS agent. It was because both of your babies were special.

"Mommy says pink is my color. And I trust mommy." Adeline says, smiling at Ziva who grins.

"Well, your mommy is very much right. Pink is definitely your color." She says.

"Alex, Addy...this is mommy's friends. That's Ziva, this is Tim and that's Tony. That's mommy's boss, Gibbs." You say, pointing to each of them.

Adeline was in a full conversation with Tony, Tim and Ziva. Alexander was looking at Gibbs who crouches down to his height and signs, "Are you okay?"

Alexander smiles and you look down, a light blush on your cheeks. You always had what Abby liked to call a "school-girl crush" on Gibbs. The elevator doors open and you look over to see Abby skipping towards you.

"Oh my goodness! They are so cute!" She exclaims.

"Mommy, who is that?" Adeline asks while looking at you.

"Mommy?" Abby asks, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Y/N is a mom, Abby. She's just been trying to keep them safe from their father." Gibbs explains before going back to signing with Alexander.

"What? You didn't trust us?" Abby asks.

"Abs, that isn't the case...their father is a terrible man. I thought he was still in prison. But, he isn't and he has my goddaughter who babysits for me...and because he is out, he was trying to get the twins. I just was scared that mostly you would get attached and what if I had to up and leave one day with the twins? I knew staying in one place meant he'd find me. I just..." You trail off and sit down as you bury your head in your hands.

"You have made a family. It explains why you were so distant. How did you and the father meet?" Tim asks.

"I was kidnapped by him when I was undercover. I'm sure you can put the pieces together." You mumble.

"Y/N/N." Abby whispers with watery eyes.

"It's fine. I don't dwell on the past. Not to mention, I've got these two who saved me." You murmur, lifting your head to look at your twins.

The team shared pitiful smiles, never realizing what you have gone through. You let a shaky breath out, moving your hands to your knees.

"They know sign language?" Abby asks while looking at Alexander.

"Alexander is deaf. He can read lips and sign, and Adeline can too. I made her learn too for him. Adeline has achromatopsia color blindness." You explain.

"Okay. Y/N, would you be okay with Abby taking them so that we can get your goddaughter back? And so I can personally speak with the bastard?" Gibbs asks.

"Y-Yeah, of course. Abby...I...I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I...I probably—." You start until she covers your mouth.

"Don't apologize. I understand and I'm not mad. However, I'm making them call me Aunt Abby." She says and you laugh.

"Alright. I mean I've talked about all of you guys to them and that's kind of how I've labeled you. Personally, I think you should be their godmother but if you want to be Aunt Abby, well I guess I'll have to find a different godmother." You say casually as you shrug with a smile and she gasps before squealing and hugging you.

"I want to be the godmother!" She exclaims.

You chuckle and stand before you tap your foot three times pretty hard on the ground. Alexander turns to you, feeling the vibrations on the ground.

"Come here." You sign and he walks over to you.

You kneel and gently grasp Adeline's elbow and she looks at you before moving to stand by Alexander.

"I want you guys to meet someone else. This is your godmother and one of mommy's other friends." You say and sign.

"Okay mommy, who is it?" Adeline asks.

You point to Abby and they both turn. Abby kneels and starts to sign to them which you couldn't help, but smile at Alexander's excitement. He really struggled because it wasn't like everyone knew sign language.

You turn and see a hand outstretched in front of you. It was Gibbs. You take it and he helps you up. You turn to look at the twins who seemed to be in awe. You focus on Abby's hands and notice she is telling them about her lab. You laugh quietly. Both of your twins were in love with anything to do with science so you knew they'd be just fine with Abby.

Abby looks at you and grins before she takes their hands and goes to lead them to the elevator. You find yourself having an internal battle, wanting to go with them, but you managed to keep yourself rooted to where you stood. You feel a hand on your hip and turn to see Gibbs.

"They are with Abby. They are safe." He mumbles.

You nod, knowing he was right and he pats your hip twice as Tony excitedly announces since it's your case, your lead.

"We should start at my house. Lexi is a smart girl and she would've left clues. I know her. And knowing that man, he probably searched the house for the twins. But, Lexi told them to play that game when a stranger comes over. It's basically a game to them, but it's something I've done in case someone tries to get to the twins. They have a hiding spot. Lexi and I are the only ones aware of that spot." You explain.

"It's good you had that in place." Ziva says as you all head to the elevator.

"I know I probably seem like an overbearing mom and that I'm really overprotective, it's just...I worry. And Alexander can't hear what's going on and I know Adeline will talk to anyone and everyone because she doesn't understand the dangers of talking to strangers. She thinks I'm mean for saying we can't talk to people we don't know." You explain.

"Y/N, we aren't judging you. Your an amazing mother. You have no need to worry." Gibbs says softly.

You look at him for a moment and nod. You go with Gibbs to the car as the other three go to the van. You felt extremely stressed and nervous so when traffic hit, it was even more stressful.

"They arrived at the house. I'd try to get us out but we are blocked in." Gibbs says.

You sigh, running a shaky hand through your hair. He studies you for a moment before putting a hand on your thigh. You look at him and he smiles slightly.

"We will get her back." He says.

It was silent, his hand on your thigh and your brain was now running about your "school-girl crush" on him.

"Gibbs, I need to tell you something." You admit.

"I know." He says softly, grinning.

"You know?" You ask confused.

"I know." He says, the both of you looking at each other.

"Then what was I going to say?" You ask.

"That you like me." He says and your cheeks flush.

"Was it really that obvious?" You ask quietly and he chuckles.

"Trust me, I only know because I was looking for the same signs." He says, looking ahead.

"Wait, you like me too?" You ask.

"Mhm. After we wrap up this case and the other one we are working on, I'd like to have you over for dinner." He says.

"I'd like that a lot." You say softly, your cheeks flushing red.

"Alright, we got prints but that's all." Tony says once you arrive.

You walk into the house and look at the end table and grab the notepad.

"License plate." You say and Tony grabs it, looking at it confused.

"She etched it in?" He asks.

"You do what you have to do. Plus he would've saw it and I'm sure we would have found her already, just not the way we wanted." You say, doing your own investigation.

"Name." Gibbs says, grabbing a candy wrapped off the ground.

"She probably didn't think Bebe would've witnessed it all." You murmur as you knew who it was.

"What's this?" Tim asks.

You walk into the living room again and see the TV was glitching and you laugh. Soon Lexi's face was on the TV.

"Oh thank god. I knew you'd be there." She says.

"We are coming for you Lex." You say.

"The twins, are they alright?" She asks.

"Yes, they are. Are you okay?" You ask.

"A little roughed up, but you should see him." She says with a grin and you smile slightly.

"Just be careful. If he loses his temper, it will be bad. Don't antagonize. Just comply with whatever he says. I'm hurrying. Do you know where your at?" You ask.

"I kind of stole his phone and I'm using it to somehow hack into your router so that I can display this. I'm in the back of a truck. It's a semi-truck. It's been moving ever since he left. I don't know where he is taking me." She says.

"Did he say anything to you?" You ask.

"He's rambling. It's like he's having some psychosis episode." She says.

"He might've mentioned where he's bringing you though, Lexi. Think." Gibbs says.

"He said something about a desert and a cabin. He also said he was going to tattoo my date of death on me. That's what that tattoo on your thigh is, isn't it?" She asks.

"Yeah. He's taking you back to where everything happened with me. Okay. Listen to me. If I don't get there before he does the tattoo and the barrel, don't panic. Slow breaths. It will give us more time to find you." You say seriously.

"Barrel? What the hell did he do to you? And is he actually the twins' father? Were you guys dating or something?" She asks.

"He's a sociopath, Lexi. I was really hoping he'd do some ransom thing but clearly he is still just as delusional as he use to be." You say.

"Oh shit. I've got to go." She says and the video cuts out.

"I think we need to review your case." Gibbs says.

"He kidnapped me. He proceeded to SA me. Lexi is safe there. He happens to like (your hair color). She's (her hair color). However he doesn't like (her hair color). That was who we were finding in the barrels. Well, then he tattooed the day he thought I was going to die, but little did he know I had a whole team ready to bring me home. So, I wasn't in the barrel long. A few hours, but that's it." You explain.

Gibbs and you run in from the front, Tony and Ziva going in through the back with Tim following not long behind him.

"Zayn, where is she?" You ask, your gun on him.

"I want my kids. Give me my kids." He snaps.

"They aren't your kids. You'll never be a father to them. They are my kids and I'd be damned if you ever try to get near them again because if you try, I'll shoot you." You say lowly, further pressing the gun against his temple to get the point across.

"And they say I'm crazy." He laughs.

"She isn't crazy. She's a mother and a mothers love for their children is such a crazy thing because a mother would do anything for their child. She's fiercely in love with those kids and she will fiercely protect them, no matter what." Gibbs says, hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you back.

Tony arrests him and you step out of Gibbs' hold and head outside. You knew he wouldn't have put her close to the cabin. He would have gone a bit further out. But, it would be close enough to his property so he could see it. You get to the edge of the hill and look over it before something sparkles in the sun. You start hurrying down the hill as Gibbs yells for you to wait.

You kneel and grab it. It was her ring. You shove it in your pocket before digging around, pushing the sand away when you see the top of the barrel. You start to lift the lid and toss it to the side.

"Y-Y/N?" She whispers.

"Oh baby. It's okay. I'm here. I promised I would be here." You murmur as your team joins you.

Tony helps get her out of the barrel and you sit next to her. She leans her head against your chest before breaking into tears. You shush her softly, petting her hair.

"He told me what he did to you. He told me everything. Why did you lie to us? You went through all of that alone and had no help. And we were so hard on you because we thought you should've worked it out. We didn't know he did those things." She sobs.

"Lexi, shhh...I didn't say anything because I didn't want to be treated any different. Your okay and I'm okay. I didn't take anything you guys said to heart because I knew you guys didn't know." You explain softly.

"What do you think of my tattoo?" She says, trying to smile and you look at her leg.

"I think you've got one hell of a story to tell. Don't look at it and think of this. Think of it as surviving. Because you did survive something horrific." You said.

"I don't even feel scared. I never felt scared once because I knew you'd find me. I did what you said to. Slow breaths. Because I knew you'd find me. I don't even care about that tattoo. This should bother me more than it is, but it isn't." She says.

"You could be in shock." Tim says.

"No. Not in shock. Right, look at my pupils." She says.

"She's right. She isn't in shock. She use to be a nurse." You explain.

"Your a strong girl. And you know your aunt well. You knew she'd find you. You are very brave after today." Gibbs says.

"Can you walk?" You ask.

"I'm not going to lie, I think I sprained my ankle." She says.

"How did you do that?" You ask confused.

"I full on round house kicked him, but then I screwed up my footing. I sooooo could've got away if I didn't screw that up. It so reminded me of this movie. I felt like a total badass too. Then I ruined it." She says and you couldn't help, but laugh.

"Well come on. I'll carry you up." You say.

"What? You can't do that." She says.

"Piggy back ride? I think I can." You say.

After getting situated, you start up the hill with your team. You had Tony and Gibbs on either side of you, in case you lose your footing. Lexi was babbling on with Tim about some game.

You move off of Gibbs, laying your head on his bare chest as you move the sheets up to cover your bare body.

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you. It has been a little of six months since it had became official between you both. He stayed over at your house almost every day. You had been over to his house a few times, but you didn't like being away from the twins for long.

He noticed that and quickly made sure to make it your house that you guys went to most of the time. He found himself thinking about how you use to be so eager to get home and frustrated when you couldn't leave yet because of a case and yet, now he knew why you were so eager to get home. You had two wonderful kids that you adored fiercely and he found himself loving them just as you do.

"Okay, I've realized something." He murmurs.

"And what is that?" You ask softly, tracing random patterns on his chest.

"I'm so in love with you and I think it's time you become Mrs. Gibbs number five. Okay, you may end up Mrs. Gibbs number five, however I want you to be the last Mrs. Gibbs." He says.

"Wait...are you...purposing?" You ask, sitting up on your elbow to look at him.

"Not yet...I want to purpose the way you deserve it. But, what do you think?" He asks.

"I...I've honestly been wondering when your going to ask the damn question." You admit as you laugh softly and he joins you.

"Soon." He promises.

"I know you ain't crazy about the whole idea of getting married in front of people unless it's a judge, but if this is gonna be the only time I get married, I want the whole experience." You say and he chuckles.

"Then we better give you the experience because this is the only time you'll be getting married." He says and you laugh.

"Mrs. Y/N Gibbs...I like the sound of that." You murmur.

"Hm...me too. What about Adeline Gibbs and Alexander Gibbs?" He suggests and you cover your mouth as your eyes water.

"Y-You'd really want that?" You ask softly.

"Of course. I love them like they are my own. They are my kids." He says, his own eyes watering and you grin.

"I'd love that. And what about Luna Shannon Gibbs and Leroy Jethro-Arlo Gibbs?" You ask and he shoots up, looking down at you confused.

"Why are you trying to change the twins' names?" He asks.

"Well...actually. I'm not." You say softly.

It was quiet as he looked down at you with a confused look. You waited, smiling softly as you knew he was about to figure it out.

"Your pregnant...with twins?" He asks.

"Mhm." You hum.

"Wow...this is...amazing. For Luna...can we do Luna-Kate Shannon Gibbs?" He asks.

"Of course. I love that. Kate would be honored." You murmur.

"I miss her still. It's been almost what three or four years and I still miss her." He admits.

"I miss her too, Jethro. She was a good women, but she died doing what she loved most. She'll forever be remembered." You murmur, sitting up with the blankets wrapped tightly around your front.

He smiles, nodding in agreement.

"Mommy! Mommy! It's time to get up! It's our first day of school!" Adeline exclaims.

"Can we just keep them home forever?" You ask and he chuckles as he gets up to get dressed.

"No, we can't. Come on. You go shower real quick and I'll start breakfast. Then we will switch so that you finish it and I shower. Hopefully, we can all eat together and then we will take them to school and we will go work." He says.

You nod, sighing as you stand. You left the blankets on the bed and you look over at him to see his eyes on the tattoo from the unsub. You frown, covering it with your hand as you hurry to the bathroom and close the door. You heard him sigh and curse, but you needed a moment.

You were kind of sad that it was the twins' first day. You made sure to get plenty of pictures and now it was silent between Jethro and you on your guys' way to work.

"Baby?" He says.

"Hm?" You hum.

You were a little surprised he called you that. He typically only does when he's deep in thought or scared shitless. So, you clue it that he was deep in thought.

"I didn't mean to make you upset this morning." He admits.

"I wasn't upset." You say.

"You covered it and ran off to the bathroom like a dog with its tail between its legs." He deadpans.

"I wasn't upset though. I just...I wouldn't even say self-conscious. However, I know when you look at it, your putting every piece of what happened to me, together. You know what that date means. Anyone else will look at it and assume it's for someone or it's some joke. But, it's the day I was supposed to die. Plus, it kind of springs up memories on me. I need to get it removed, but I don't for the time for it and I don't want to be asked about it either." You admit.

"Baby, when I look at that...it just makes me realize what you've been through and how strong you are. You are a fighter and I love how strong and how brave and how fierce you are." He say and you smile slightly.

"I love you." You murmur.

"I love you too, hon." He says, grabbing your hand.

628 notes · View notes

kingofbodyrolls · 1 year ago

Text

Sprout | knj | four (fin)

You love your plants, you love your garden, you do not love your new neighbor. You hate him with all your might— he wrecks everything you hold dear so you do the only reasonable thing: retaliate.

→ Pairing: Namjoon x female reader → AUs: neighbors au, gardening au, non!idol au → strangers to enemies (mostly one sided) to friends to lovers → Genres: slice of life, smut, humor → Rating: explicit → Word count: 8.2K → Warnings: (somewhat) rough smut; degrading name calling (bitch), hair pulling, spanking, very brief anal fingering, some cockwarming, throat fucking, breast and nipple play, sexual tension, stupid innuendos, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (please don’t be stupid), praise kink, begging, exhibitionism, slight dom/sub themes 👀 big dick Joonie, creampie, aftercare — I think that’s it! → Author’s note(1): time for smut!!!! 😝 → Taglist: @svnbangtansworld → It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there 🙂

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

You jolt awake to the insistent rhythm of a knock on your door, your senses instantly heightened as you wonder about the unexpected visitor. With a sense of urgency, you practically sprint down the stairs, only to be greeted by a wide-awake and smiling Namjoon at your doorstep.

“Good morning,” he greets with a voice that's too cheery for the early hours, making you grunt in response while you run one hand through your tousled hair, attempting to rub the sleep from your eyes. Your gaze lingers on him, clad in a loose-fitted black shirt that hints at the impressive contours of his chest, paired with beige shorts and sandals. In stark contrast, you become acutely aware of your own appearance, standing there in your revealing sleepwear—a slutty top with your breasts on the verge of spilling out and extremely short shorts that do nothing to hide your ass.

As you glance down at your attire, the realization of what you're wearing hits you. A subtle chuckle escapes Namjoon, and his eyes briefly trace the curve of your breasts before meeting your gaze once more.

“What are you doing here?” you inquire in a gruff tone, adding, “And this early?” You rub your tired eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

“I was thinking we could hit up the plant store, just like we discussed? It opens at 8,” he suggests, flashing you a wide smile that showcases his dimples – the kind of smile that should be declared illegal.

“‘Joon, it's 7:30, and I'm not even awake yet,” you sigh, fully aware of what your answer is going to be, “but sure, let's go. I just need to get dressed and maybe caffeinate myself first.”

His eyes sparkle, eliciting a soft smile from you. “Come in and make yourself comfortable,” you invite warmly.

You guide him into your home, shutting the door gently as he slips off his sandals. Leading the way to the kitchen, you sense your shorts riding up higher on your ass. In your tired state, you don't care much, pressing forward into the kitchen.

You motion for him to take a seat, the worn chair creaking slightly beneath his weight as you get ready to brew some coffee. “Care for a cup?” you inquire, your voice warm and inviting.

He offers a gentle shake of his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Not today, but I appreciate the offer,” he responds, his eyes reflecting a grateful glint.

“Mind finishing up the coffee? I'll go change real quick,” you request, a smile gracing your lips as you set the water and kettle in motion. “Absolutely,” he responds with a nod and a warm smile, prompting you to dash upstairs to your room.

As you hurry into your room, grabbing clothes in a rush, you dive into the bathroom for a quick shower, slipping into a simple yet chic mini dress. Emerging from the bathroom, you almost collide with Jungkook.

“Woaw, you’re up early,” he chuckles, deftly avoiding a collision with you amidst your swift movements. “Yeah, Namjoon’s waiting in the kitchen,” you explain in a hurried tone as you dart past Jungkook and descend the stairs, but not before catching the suggestive dance his eyebrows perform, a mischievous tease lingering in the air.

You descend the stairs and enter the kitchen, announcing, “I’m ready now,” accompanied by a warm smile as you assess Namjoon. He gestures toward a pot, indicating the ready coffee. Swiftly, you grab a to-go cup and fill it with the aromatic brew, expressing your gratitude, “Thank you.”

As you head towards the entryway together, the anticipation lingers in the air. With synchronized movements, you slip into your shoes and jackets, and you grab your purse, the door creaking open under your anticipation.

“My car is more spacious; we can take that,” he suggests, gesturing towards his sizable SUV. Despite the practicality of his choice, you can't resist a playful eye roll and a theatrical sigh. Nevertheless, you follow him towards his car.

You settle into the car as the engine roars to life, and he skillfully maneuvers out of the driveway and onto the road. It becomes evident rather quickly that driving might not be his forte. He chuckles, breaking the silence, “Apologies for the driving skills; I’m not behind the wheel often,” he confesses, taking a turn down a road. You can't help but chuckle to yourself. “I usually opt for my bike, better for the environment, you know. The only downside is the limited space.”

Your laughter grows louder, imagining Namjoon on his bike, attempting to navigate with an armful of plants. The mental image paints a comical scene, and you find yourself amused by the thought of him juggling between green companions and handlebars.

Your laughter continues, and you playfully suggest, “I can take the wheel on the way back, unless you trust your driving skills with the precious cargo.” Namjoon grins, “Maybe that's a good idea; I wouldn't want to risk any harm to my leafy companions.”

The plant store is a vibrant kaleidoscope of nature's wonders, with a plethora of beautiful specimens beckoning you both. From delicate baby plants to towering giants, the colors span the spectrum – a mesmerizing dance of greens, reds, purples, yellows, and blues. Armed with a cart, your excitement and giddiness know no bounds as you traverse the aisles, eagerly exploring the rich tapestry of botanical treasures the store has to offer.

With swift determination, Namjoon seizes bundles of essential soil packages, and inspired by his decisiveness, you follow suit, eager to replenish your own gardening arsenal.

As your gaze flits over the indoor greenery, nothing quite captures your interest. However, Namjoon's discovery of a tempting citrus tree triggers thoughts of the fruit trees lingering in your mind. Eagerly, you venture outside to explore the vast array of possibilities. Amid the selection of fruit trees—apples, pears, cherries, and beyond—you hone in on the apple varieties. With purpose, you seek out two distinct types, envisioning a harmonious pollination dance between them.

Namjoon eagerly adds to his haul with a selection of berry bushes, opting for the exquisite allure of blueberries and the tantalizing vibrancy of raspberries.

After a rewarding three-hour exploration through the vibrant aisles of the store, your shopping adventure concludes with a car filled to the brim. Grateful for Namjoon's spacious vehicle, you navigate the challenge of fitting an assortment of soil packages, fruit trees, and bushes. Some of the taller trees find refuge in the backseat, a testament to the abundance of greenery that now accompanies you on the journey home.

Namjoon casually passes you the keys, muttering, “It's better for the plants that way.” Amused, you respond with a chuckle, taking control of the wheel. Upon reaching home, a collaborative effort unfolds as both of you unload the treasures acquired during your plant-filled escapade.

Namjoon's housewarming party looms ahead, and you find yourself both excited and slightly jittery at the thought of mingling with his rowdy and boisterous friends—individuals you've been quietly cursing under your breath since he first moved in all those months ago.

You've spent hours contemplating what to wear for Namjoon's housewarming party, seeking Jungkook's fashion expertise. He meticulously evaluates every dress in your closet, categorizing them from boring to sexy. Jungkook insists on opting for something enticing to captivate Namjoon's attention, and thus, here you stand, navigating the fine line between alluring and elegant.

Maintaining a deadpan expression, Jungkook casually throws you a bold question amidst his dress scrutiny. “Do you know if Namjoon’s an ass or tits man?” His gaze remains fixated on the dresses, and you're momentarily taken aback by his crude inquiry. However, given the unfiltered nature of your friendship, you offer a nonchalant response, “I don’t know. I’ve seen him staring at both before,” accompanied by a shrug, unsure if that tidbit helps him in any way.

Jungkook continues his quest through your closet, finally emerging triumphant with a suggestion, “Then I suggest a bodycon; tight fit that shows everything.” After thorough searching, he presents a black dress that strikes the right balance, revealing just the perfect amount of cleavage and boasting a midi length that adds a touch of elegance.

You let out a groan of frustration as you eye the bodycon dress on the bed. “You know I hate bodycon dresses,” you sigh. Jungkook chuckles, “I guess that’s why you only have one of them,” he teases as he throws the dress onto your bed. Undeterred, he continues rummaging through your closet, emerging with a pair of purple glitter boots. “Since your dress is black, pair it with these purple glitter heels,” he suggests with a mischievous grin.

You share a laugh with Jungkook, realizing that the vibrant purple glitter heels add a playful touch to the overall look. The dress, initially exuding a somewhat somber vibe, now seems to embrace a more lively and celebratory feel, thanks to Jungkook's unconventional styling suggestion.

Jungkook playfully teases, his eyes dancing with mischief and a mischievous grin revealing his adorable teeth. “I think you’re gonna get laid tonight,” he adds, punctuating the statement with a suggestive wink of his eyebrows.

“It's a party, Guk,” you reprimand him, a playful glint in your eyes as you try to hide the hopeful anticipation that bubbles beneath the surface. You don't entirely dismiss Jungkook's playful prediction, secretly hoping that amidst the lively atmosphere and Namjoon's friends, a spark might ignite between you and Namjoon.

“You never know what's gonna happen,” he shrugs, leaving you to prepare at your own pace. While he swiftly readies himself – donning a simple white tee that accentuates his sculpted physique, showcasing biceps and muscles chiseled in hours at the gym, paired with leather skinny jeans that emphasize his powerful thighs – you can't help but admire the effortless appeal he exudes.

“Planning to seduce someone?” you chuckle, your gaze roaming over him. “That outfit is killer, you know.”

“Nah, maybe. You never know,” he laughs, reveling in his undeniable charm. Jungkook has been the same ever since you met him when he moved in. Always drawing attention, and over the years, he's become your trusted fashion advisor, helping you enhance your outfits to capture the spotlight. You cherish him like the brother you never had.

You knock on Namjoon's door, but the pulsating beat of the music suggests he won't hear it. Rolling your eyes, you glance at Jungkook, who chuckles and casually swings the door open, ushering you inside the lively atmosphere.

The crowd is surprisingly small, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and warmth among friends. As you navigate through the living room, you exchange greetings with familiar faces, some of whom you remember from that memorable BBQ where Namjoon inadvertently wreaked havoc on your fence and garden bed.

Several of his friends cast you a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment of the shared memory when Namjoon accidentally wreaked havoc on your fence, and you didn't hesitate to give him a stern scolding.

You stride into the kitchen, boldly interrupting the banter between Namjoon and his friend who's manning the stove. “Hey,” you greet, causing both Namjoon and his friend to pivot and direct their attention toward you and Jungkook.

“Oh, hi,” his friend, Yoongi, greets you, offering his hand. As you shake it and share your name, you detect a subtle recognition flicker in his eyes. It clicks. “Ah, you're the one Joon has been telling us about,” he observes, scrutinizing you from head to toe. In that moment, you feel strangely exposed, wishing you had chosen a more modest outfit. The realization that Namjoon has been discussing you raises a mix of curiosity and uncertainty within you.

Namjoon pivots fully to meet you, and as his eyes roam your entire figure, his steps stutter to a halt. From your face down to those ridiculously purple glitter heels, he takes in every detail. The noticeable gaze sends a tingling warmth across your skin, and you're acutely aware of his thorough inspection. In a breathless, warm tone, Namjoon greets you, “Hi, I'm so glad you came,” his words hanging in the air. Yoongi chuckles, Jungkook joins in, and the atmosphere seems to shift with Namjoon's lingering gaze.

“Dinner’s almost ready, you can take a drink if you want,” Namjoon gestures toward the assortment of beverages as Yoongi orchestrates the final touches to the meal.

You and Jungkook make your way to the kitchen table, where he expertly pours the two of you drinks. As you head back to the living room, the hubbub of the gathering surrounds you, and you notice the diverse crowd filling Namjoon's space with laughter and conversation.

He teases you with a sly grin, “He was totally checking out your ass,” as you both approach a group of people you greeted upon arriving. You respond with a playful chuckle, dismissing the comment but secretly reveling in the idea that Namjoon's attention might be focused on you.

An audacious man points his finger at you with a big boxy smile and declares, “Hey, you're that bitchy neighbor, right?” The desire to react with anger simmers within you, but instead, you offer a forced smile and reply, “Yeah, that's me.” The guy's friend beside him shoots him a disapproving look, muttering something about politeness.

“Don't mind him, I'm Jimin,” the guy who intervened extends his hand for a shake. You grasp it firmly, exchanging names not only with him but also with Jungkook, who lingers at your side.

“I'm Taehyung,” the guy who boldly labeled you the ‘bitchy neighbor’ introduces himself, still wearing a wide grin. Unfazed by his straightforwardness, you flash a warm smile in return, appreciating the honesty.

“I'm Hoseok,” the guy beside them chimes in, a radiant smile lighting up his face.

Before you know it, Yoongi, the guy crafting the delicious dinner, sets the final masterpiece on the dining table. As you all converge around the table, you find yourself seated next to Jungkook and Taehyung. Conversations flow effortlessly, everyone sharing stories about how they know Namjoon – college buddies, coworkers, childhood friends. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, making you feel surprisingly at home in this new circle of acquaintances. Despite the brief encounter, these individuals excel at weaving a sense of inclusion and hospitality, effortlessly transforming strangers into companions.

Despite the lively chatter and delicious food, you can't help but catch Namjoon stealing occasional glances in your direction. Determined to maintain your composure, you divert your attention to savoring the flavors on your plate, pretending not to notice the warmth of his gaze lingering on you.

As lively conversations intertwine with the clinking of cutlery and empty plates, you gradually become aware of the music's subdued presence. Jimin initiates the plate-clearing ritual, and you join in to assist. Meanwhile, Hoseok, with a mischievous gleam in his eye, strides into the living room and cranks up the volume, signaling an imminent eruption of rhythmic movements, suggesting he's ready to unleash some dance-floor magic.

With a playful smile, you turn to Jimin and inquire, “Is it always like this?” Your gaze follows the fluid motions of Hoseok, who has seamlessly transitioned into a mesmerizing dance routine, eliciting a spontaneous chuckle from you.

“Pretty much,” he replies with a chuckle, arranging plates in the dishwasher.

“It's a pity that Taehyung's girlfriend and Hoseok's couldn't make it today. Hoseok's girlfriend loves to dance, and watching her and Hoseok dance is always a blast!” he shares with a smile. Jungkook has now joined Hoseok in dancing, while Namjoon and Yoongi unwind on the couch. Taehyung is pitching in, helping you and Jimin clean up.

“Your friend Jungkook, what's his story?” Jimin inquires, his eyes tracing Jungkook's muscular frame as he effortlessly matches Hoseok's dance moves.

You chuckle, and then Taehyung interjects, “He's wondering if Jungkook is single.” He clarifies for Jimin, who blushes as he shuts the dishwasher.

You turn to Jimin, “Well, he is single. I've never seen him with a man before, but you should give it a shot,” you say, smiling at him. His face brightens, a wide smile forming until his eyes disappear into small slits. Both you and Taehyung chuckle as Jimin heads into the living room to join the dance.

You both follow him, seamlessly joining the dancing crowd. You instantly locate Jungkook, who winks suggestively with his eyebrows as he grips your hips, swaying you to the beat of the music. You understand his intentions – to help you grab Namjoon's attention. It seems to be working, as you feel a pair of hazel brown eyes igniting your skin with warmth.

Jimin effortlessly joins the dancing, grinding up against your body. With the attention of the two men, you can't help but laugh as they're on a mission to make Namjoon jealous.

You catch sight of Namjoon on the couch, his fists clenching intermittently as he struggles to maintain eye contact with you, alternating his gaze whenever he senses yours on him.

Worn out from the lively dance and the touch of both Jungkook and Jimin, you retreat to the kitchen for a much-needed break. Amidst the array of alcoholic beverages, you choose a refreshing sip of water to rejuvenate your senses.

A soft “Hi” catches your attention from behind, and as you turn, there stands Namjoon. It seems like Jungkook's strategic plan to capture his interest might just be unfolding before you.

“Hi,” you reply to Namjoon, turning gracefully to face him, a soft smile playing on your lips as your eyes meet his.

He envelops your personal space in an instant, but the proximity feels electrifying rather than intrusive. His gaze sweeps down, the height difference smaller because of your heels. “You look incredibly sexy,” he murmurs, his words sending a subtle shiver down your spine.

“Thank you, so do you,” you reply, your eyes tracing the contours of his fitted gray shirt, the black dress pants accentuating his silhouette, and his hair styled in a soft undercut. A subtle gulp betrays the sudden rush of arousal that courses through you. Damn, he looks more than nice; he looks irresistible.

His lips brush against your ear as he leans in, his husky whisper sending a shiver down your spine, “I bet you look even sexier without those clothes on.”

A barely audible, breathy moan escapes your lips, your agreement conveyed through a subtle nod. His intoxicating scent envelops your senses, electrifying every inch of your body. Yet, the hunger for more lingers, an insatiable desire pulsating within you.

With a teasing and audacious tone, you declare, “There's only one way to find out.”

As a provocative invitation, you lower the neckline of your dress ever so slightly, offering him a tantalizing glimpse of your cleavage. His gaze quickly descends, and he licks his lips in response, muttering a husky “Damn.”

He leans in again, gently nibbling on your ear, his breath hot as he pants, “Fuck. I want you so much.” A mischievous glint in his eyes, he adds, “Do you want to take a look at my seedling collection in my room?”

A playful chuckle escapes your lips, yet your body responds with a cascade of tingles, every inch of your skin on high alert. “Yes,” you moan, pressing your body against his, acutely aware of the undeniable evidence of his erection.

He seizes your hand, a magnetic pull guiding you out of the bustling kitchen and into the mysterious path leading, you presume, to his bedroom.

Surprised, you stammer, “What about the others?” as he whisks you away from the lively gathering.

Confidently, he declares, “They have their music, and they won't mind us disappearing for an hour,” pulling you through the hallway with a mischievous grin, “or two.”

You can't help but chuckle, but as his words finally penetrate your foggy mind, a new surge of arousal courses through your core. You gulp, groaning at the anticipation of what his words imply.

In no time, you reach his room. He swiftly opens the door, pulling you inside, and without hesitation, he pushes you against the nearest wall, hovering over you. His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation, but finding none, he dives into a kiss. It's a blend of softness and intensity, his lips feeling inviting as you instinctively open your mouth, welcoming the dance of his tongue with yours.

The kiss lingers until you both reluctantly break apart for a much-needed breath, chests heaving in sync with the rapid beat of your hearts. His gaze, now hooded, remains fixed on your lips, and his hands firmly grasp your hips, the intensity between you growing with each passing moment.

He breathlessly murmurs your name, his desperation palpable, “You have no idea how much I want you.”

It sends shivers down your spine as you bite your lower lip, anticipation building. “Show me,” you pant in a ragged voice, yearning for the intensity that awaits.

He pulls you towards his bed, the air thick with anticipation as he slowly eases you down onto the soft sheets. Your gaze locks with his, desire burning in your eyes; an unspoken plea for him to ravish you, to consume the hunger that has been building between you for so long.

His fingers trail over your body, igniting a symphony of shivers that course through you, causing a hitch in your breath as he explores the landscape of your body.

His voice, laced with a hunger that mirrors the intensity in his gaze, whispers a question that sets your skin ablaze.

“Can I taste you?”

The air thickens with anticipation, and you're certain that if he doesn't touch you soon, you might just combust.

“Please,” your plea, drawn out in a breathless moan, echoes in the room, and you feel your toes curl with anticipation, a symphony of desire playing between every gasp and heartbeat.

He wastes no time, swiftly dragging your dress up your hips to your stomach. A pause lingers as he appreciates the sight of your black lacy underwear, before he skillfully tugs them down your thighs and lets them pool at your feet and drags them to the floor.

“What about my shoes?” you playfully remark as you attempt to kick them off, but he swiftly captures your legs before you can make much progress.

“Keep them on. They're cute.”

He murmurs, a low, seductive tone that sends shivers down your spine. Your breath catches, and a wave of need tightens your core, leaving you aching for more.

He pulls you to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs with a hungry gaze, absorbing the sight of your glistening pussy, ready to explore every inch of it.

“Fuck, you're already so wet,” he groans, his hands kneading your thighs, eliciting moans of delight as his skilled fingers inch closer to where you need him the most.

He inches closer and closer with his hands, teasingly tracing the contours of your thighs, but then, with a seductive glint in his eyes, he redirects his attention to your core. Your gaze locks with his as he licks his lips in anticipation before finally sealing the deal, his mouth enveloping your slick, pulsating pussy.

“Ahhh–”

His tongue skillfully explores your folds, sending a shiver down your spine as you involuntarily arch your back off the bed, caught in the electrifying sensation. As he moves to your clit, a wave of tightness starts to coil in your stomach.

His expert mouth engulfs your clit, creating a tantalizing suction that has you gripping the sheets, your mind teetering on the edge of bliss. He hasn’t even done much yet an overwhelming sense of ecstasy washes over you, pushing you to the brink of sweet surrender.

Simultaneously, his skilled fingers continue their rhythmic massage on your thighs. “Fuck, don't stop,” you moan, lost in the intoxicating blend of sensations that envelops you.

He devours your clit with an insatiable hunger, his tongue moving with an expertise that leaves you breathless. Every flick and swirl sends shockwaves of pleasure through you.

Then he pulls off, “You like that?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

He returns to his task with newfound determination, his tongue expertly dancing over your throbbing clit. Your fingers entwine in his hair, tugging at the strands as he skillfully sucks and laps, each deliberate move coaxing euphoric sounds from your lips, punctuated by the desperate call of his name.

Embarrassment is a distant thought as pleasure courses through you, driven by the divine dance of his tongue on your sensitive bud. Wetness coats your core, and in the throes of ecstasy, you abandon all reservations. “I'm so close, Joon,” escapes your lips, a raw admission of the impending climax.

As his tongue continues its tantalizing assault on your clit, a single finger joins the sensual ballet, probing the entrance to your pussy. Your walls eagerly envelop the intruding digit, the dual stimulation propelling you perilously close to the edge of climax.

Your moans cascade into the air like a melody as he rhythmically thrusts his finger in and out of you, a symphony of pleasure coursing through your body. The withdrawal of his digit leaves you yearning, but the anticipation peaks as his slickened finger teases your untouched hole. Shivers dance along your spine as you feel the subtle pressure against the resistance of your muscles, inviting an exhilarating mix of pleasure and anticipation.

“N-Namjoon…”

You whimper, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight below. His eyes are darkened pools of desire, mirroring the intensity of the sensations he orchestrates with his skillful tongue. The explicit symphony of wet, rhythmic sounds reverberates in the room, a sinful melody that only adds to the fire between you both.

His insistent finger nudges at your hole, and you instinctively clench, a mix of anticipation and slight discomfort coursing through you. Yet, his agile tongue at your clit becomes a captivating distraction, a skillful dance that forces your focus away from the pressure building elsewhere. As you struggle to ease the tension in your body, your breath quickens, and you transform into a panting, quivering mess beneath his intoxicating touch.

In a haze of pleasure, you're suddenly aware of the delicate pressure of his teeth on your clit. The sensation is subtle yet electrifying, sending shockwaves through your body. Your voice echoes in a cry of his name, the walls of your core clenching around the emptiness, while your senses blur in a whirlwind of ecstasy. As you struggle to regain control of your breathing, the world around you fades into a euphoric abyss.

As your climax courses through you, he withdraws his finger from your tight hole, but his fervent attention on your folds persists. His tongue dances with expertise, devouring the sweet juice that envelops his taste buds.

“You taste so sweet.”

Savoring the lingering taste of your sweetness, he licks his lips lasciviously as he withdraws from your core. Gazing upon your breathless and flushed figure sprawled on his bed, he can't help but chuckle, a low and satisfied sound, at the intoxicating impact he's already had on you.

“Dammit, Namjoon.”

Frustration and desire intertwine as you sit up, urgently pulling Namjoon between your legs to seize his lips in a passionate kiss. In the heat of the moment, you inadvertently taste yourself on his lips, but you don’t mind.

With a sultry gaze, you break away from his lips, locking eyes with him as you confess, “I want to suck your dick.”

As your seductive words hang in the air, you notice his pupils dilate even further, and he inhales sharply, taking a deliberate step back, visibly affected by the promise in your desire-laden confession.

“I don't know,” he begins, and you raise an intrigued eyebrow at him.

“You haven't exactly been a good girl,” he adds, his tone taking on a tantalizing edge. You gape at his unexpected words, your mind racing to comprehend the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Why should I let you suck my dick when you’ve been so bad?”

Your jaw actually drops, and you're left perplexed by the sudden change in his demeanor. “I don't know what you're talking about. I just want to make you feel as good as you made me feel,” you respond, your voice a mixture of confusion and desire, trying to navigate the unexpected turn in the conversation.

A mischievous smirk graces his lips, and he offers a soft smile. “If I remember correctly, you glued my mailbox together,” he utters, and as the words escape his mouth, a realization hits you like a ton of bricks — is he still holding onto your past antics from when he first moved in?

A sly grin plays on his lips. “And threw eggs on my windows,” he teases, and you're left dumbfounded. His arousal is evident with a prominent bulge in his pants, leaving you puzzled as to why he's resurrecting this conversation now.

“Wanted to blow my tire,” he chuckles, his hand casually finding its way to his erect cock, inviting your gaze. “If you want this,” he gestures to his throbbing dick, “you'll need to apologize and beg like a proper bitch.”

You inhale sharply at his audacious demand, a shiver coursing down your spine. The challenge is clear. Two can play this game, and you're more than ready to meet his provocative request head-on.

You bat your eyes at him, rising to meet him at the foot of the bed, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. “So it's going to be like that, huh? What if I don't want to apologize, because I already have?” Your voice drops to a sultry whisper as you tease him, fingers boldly grabbing the outline of his cock outside his pants, eliciting a sharp hiss from his lips.

His tone oozes mock disappointment. “Fine, I suppose I'll just go join the others,” he declares, a smug smile playing on his lips, leaving you to wonder if he's bluffing or genuinely preparing to walk away.

“With this tent in your pants?”

With a teasing smirk, you glance down at the noticeable bulge in his pants and then meet his eyes again. Chuckling nervously, the realization dawns on you that he might just be speaking the truth.

“I don’t mind,” nonchalantly, he shrugs his shoulders as he backs away from you, and a sense of panic creeps in because, damn, he wasn't kidding about walking away!

But an overwhelming desire surges through you, an urgent need for him, for his intimacy. You crave to taste him, to feel him deep inside. Damn it, you'll have to surrender to the yearning and beg for the pleasure you so desperately crave.

Your voice is a breathy plea, eyes locked onto his, a mixture of desire and vulnerability.

“Please,” you implore, the longing in your eyes laying bare your desperate craving to taste him.

“Please let me suck your dick.”

He saunters over, a playful glint in his eyes. “And?” he drawls, his gaze lingering on you, leaving you biting your lower lip in a mix of anticipation and frustration.

You take a deep breath, your admission hanging in the air, “I'm sorry, I was a bitch to you.”

His satisfaction evident, he swiftly lowers both his pants and underwear in a single motion, unveiling his impressive cock—long, thick, with a captivating crimson hue at the tip. Your breath catches at the sight, a gasp escaping your lips as it comes into full view.

“Good girl. Then suck it.”

He commands, and you gracefully descend to your knees. Your tongue darts out, tracing your lips as you fixate on the glistening bead of precum adorning the crown of his cock.

With purposeful intent, your hands envelop his pulsating cock, eliciting a guttural groan of longing from him as your fingers methodically traverse its rigid length.

“Don't toy with me,” he cautions, his voice imbued with a mixture of desire and command as he utters your name.

You playfully scoff at his attitude, but your boldness shines through as you extend your tongue, sliding it beneath the swollen tip of his dick. Locking eyes with him, you tease away the glistening droplets of precum. His sharp intake of breath transforms into a low moan when you engulf the head of his throbbing cock with your warm, wet mouth.

“Fuck!”

You skillfully trace your tongue around his frenulum, causing a visceral reaction. His head arches backward, and his fingers instinctively weave into your hair, applying a gentle, insistent tug as if he’s unable to contain the escalating pleasure.

You release his cock from your mouth, allowing saliva to pool and gather as you sensually prepare for another round. With deliberate intent, you envelop him once more, eliciting breathy pants from him as your wet, warm mouth expertly glides up and down, leaving his dick coated in a glistening sheen of your saliva.

With a firm grip on his hips, you delve into the art of pleasuring him, expertly creating a vacuum with your lips that draws out moans of pleasure. As you suck him, the wetness between your thighs intensifies, a tangible manifestation of your arousal responding to the symphony of his reactions.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

As his moans echo in the room, his praise serves as a potent catalyst, igniting a fiercer desire within you. Eager for more, you boldly take more of his cock, skillfully deep-throating him until the meeting point of your nose and his coarse pubic hair.

“Ah, fuck.”

As you skillfully relax your mouth, the enticing vibrations of your hum reverberate around his throbbing dick, eliciting a deeper response. His hands, entwined in the makeshift ponytail of your hair, tug with a mixture of urgency and pleasure, amplifying the intensity.

Breathless and with desire darkening his gaze, he implores, “Fuck. WIll you let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?”

His eyes linger on your face, adorned with the evidence of your oral prowess, your lips glistening with your saliva by being filled to the brim with his thick cock.

You echo your consent with a sultry hum around his dick, your subtle nod accentuating the deliberate relaxing of your throat and jaw, inviting him to explore the depths of your mouth.

“God. You’re such a good girl for me.”

He forcefully tugs at your hair, eliciting a hiss around his cock. With a firm hand, he guides your face deeper into his pubic hair. You concentrate on relaxing, taking slow breaths to stave off the impending gag reflex. Just as you feel the sensation building, he withdraws, leaving you to glance up with anticipation, wondering what's wrong.

“You’re doing so good.”

His tender reassurance, accompanies a gentle brush of his fingers, wiping away a lone tear cascading down your cheek. A genuine smile graces your lips in response. The warmth of his praise sends a delightful flutter through your stomach, your core responding with an involuntary clench.

“I’ll fuck you real good after this,” his promise hangs in the air like an electrifying vow, resonating with a potent mixture of desire and anticipation. The command in his pull at your hair is met with your compliance, as he deftly aligns his dick with your waiting mouth. A mutual understanding passes between you, and you intentionally relax, allowing him to dictate the rhythm and intensity.

The tempo of his movements becomes an immediate onslaught, a relentless pace that leaves you breathless. His thrusts into your mouth are a whirlwind of intensity, each one demanding your full attention and challenging your ability to keep up.

The room resonates with a symphony of wet, slurping sounds, a visceral accompaniment to the mingling of your tears and saliva that forms a slick, glistening sheen on his cock. The dance of his relentless thrusts is now an unhindered glide, running smoothly over your lips.

Amidst the ecstasy, he moans appreciatively, “You've been a real bitch,” yet his words carry a tone of undeniable pleasure. “But, fuck, you look divine like this.”

He continues to thrust into your mouth, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “Can't talk back with your mouth full, huh?”

Damn, his menacing words send a shiver down your spine, igniting a wild fire of arousal pooling within your core. Attempting to respond, only a muffled hum escapes your lips against his pulsating cock, prompting him to moan your name in ecstasy.

“Fuck. I’m so close.”

His thrusts intensify, desire burning in his eyes as he seeks permission, “I really want to come inside your pussy, can I?”

Your muffled hum around him ignites a primal response, “Fuck. You’re so good for me, baby girl. I want to fuck you so bad, you won’t be able to walk out of here.”

Your pussy tightens in response to his words. Fuck, the thought alone sends a shiver through your body. You can already sense the wetness trickling down your thighs, aching for more of his intoxicating touch.

As he withdraws from your mouth, you gasp for air, inhaling in rapid breaths. His gentle touch caresses your cheek, accompanied by a soft smile. Transitioning from the kneeling position, he releases his hold on your hair, bringing you to a standing position before him. A hiss escapes your lips at the pull, yet it ignites a torrent of arousal, leaving you groaning in pleasure.

His command slices through the air, “On all fours,” he orders, a subtle gesture guiding your movements toward the bed. Swiftly, you comply, positioning yourself on hands and knees, anticipation coursing through every nerve.

His breath catches as he admires the breathtaking sight, “Fuck, your ass is incredible.”

A pause lingers as he indulges in the moment, his hands gently caressing the curves before a sharp slap echoes through the room, eliciting a moan from you—a sound that draws a light, satisfied chuckle from him.

As he sheds the last of his clothes, standing there in raw vulnerability, he motions for you to rise and shed the remnants of your dress. With a swift motion, he pulls the fabric away, revealing a matching lace bra that barely conceals the anticipation underneath. Skillfully unhooking it from behind, he lets it join the growing pile on the floor, laying bare the desires that crackle between you.

His hands envelop your breasts from behind, skillfully rolling and tugging at your sensitive nipples, coaxing a hiss that transforms into a sultry moan.

“Get down,” he commands, releasing your breasts, and you obediently return to your hands and knees, anticipation coursing through your veins like an electric charge.

As you arch your back, pressing your ass into him, the electric jolt of sensation courses through your body, the meeting of your ass with his throbbing cock igniting a fervent desire within. The yearning for him to fill you overwhelms your senses, aching for the ecstasy that awaits.

With a firm grip, he parts your cheeks, molding them as though shaping the most exquisite sculpture, and a prolonged moan escapes your lips, echoing the building tension between you. His touch, both commanding and sensual, sends shivers down your spine.

“You like it when I grope your ass?”

His teasing tone resonates with the intimate caresses on your backside, creating a delicious interplay of sensations. As he playfully gropes your ass once more, a moan, laden with desire, spills from your lips.

“Yes, Joon.”

As his hand connects with the curve of your ass, a jolt of both pain and pleasure surges through you, a visceral reminder that each spank is a tantalizing dance between ecstasy and a hint of sting. You can't help but release a breathy exclamation, caught in the intoxicating paradox of pleasure and the fiery imprint of his touch.

“Fuck!”

His fingers trace the tender spot left by the impact, a gentle contrast to the impending intensity. The warmth of his touch lingers just long enough before the other cheek receives the caress of his firm hand. With a husky promise, he murmurs, “Such a good girl. I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

In response to his tantalizing vow, a needy moan escapes your lips, fueling the building desire within. Eager for his touch, you press your ass further toward him. He complies, his hand skimming over his throbbing cock before parting your slickened folds. With an electrifying precision, he guides his dick to the brink of your quivering entrance.

Sensations surge through you as the velvety tip of his cock teases your folds. Surrendering to the impending ecstasy, you bury your breasts and head into the bed, anticipating the irresistible intrusion. With a deliberate and tantalizing pace, he eases himself into the welcoming warmth of your eager pussy, setting off a cascade of pleasure that envelops you both.

“Fuck! You’re so big, ugh!”

Ecstatic moans escape your lips as the sheer magnitude of his size overwhelms your senses. You're acutely aware of the delicious stretch coursing through your core, a blend of pleasure and challenge. Summoning every ounce of willpower, you command your body to yield, coaxing it to embrace the monumental intrusion and paving the way for him to delve deeper into you, transforming lingering discomfort into a symphony of desire.

“Damn. You’re so tight,” his grip tightens on your ass, fingers sinking into the flesh as he thrusts himself deeper into the velvety warmth of your pussy. A guttural moan escapes his lips, resonating through the room as he relishes the tightness that envelops him. With each inch, a shared ecstasy unfurls, culminating in a breathless admission, “Your little pussy is taking me so well.”

An electrifying fullness courses through you as he seamlessly integrates into the heated embrace of your slick folds. The initial stretch fades into a delicious satisfaction, a testament to the perfect fit between your bodies. His whispered inquiry, “Are you good?” hangs in the air, a prelude to the rhythmic dance about to unfold.

“Fuck, yeah. Please fuck me Joon.”

Your impassioned plea reverberates through the room, a desperate cry into the sheets. Almost in response, he retreats, teasingly withdrawing before plunging back in with a force that elicits an unrestrained cry, the fusion of pleasure and intensity echoing in the air.

“Ahhh!”

He propels into a relentless and rapid rhythm from the outset, causing your fingers to curl tightly around the sheets. As the pace intensifies, a thin sheen of saliva from your parted lips marks the bedding.

His voice, rough and primal, reverberates in the room as he plunges into you with unbridled intensity. “Fuck. You feel so nice around me, babe,” he rasps, each forceful thrust hitting that exquisite spot, setting off a symphony of moans that escape your lips in a relentless, intoxicating cadence.

Your uninhibited moans echo in the room, a symphony of pleasure that drowns in the pulsating beats of the music. In the haze of passion, you're blissfully unaware of how loud you are, and with each intense thrust, you find solace in the hope that the music's thunderous rhythm conceals your shared symphony from the prying ears of his friends—although, in this heated moment, who gives a fuck?

“Namjoon, shit!” you pant, surrendering to the primal rhythm, arching your back and meeting his dick with fervor. Every thrust becomes a shared dance, an intimate symphony where your movements mirror his, creating a crescendo of pleasure that resonates through the room.

“Fuck. You’re such a good girl for me. Fucking yourself on me like this, fuck.”

His hands, explorers on a sensual journey, traverse every curve of your body with a possessive grace. With a firm grip on your hair, he elevates you onto your knees, commanding your body like a masterpiece. His skilled hands then trace a tantalizing path, cupping your breasts, and his fingers dance over your nipples, coaxing forth a symphony of pleasure.

“Oh, fuck.” Your moan harmonizes with the relentless rhythm of his hips, each thrust orchestrating a crescendo of pleasure that leaves your core drenched in a fresh cascade of arousal.

His fingers dance on your sensitive nipples, an exquisite melody that resonates with the building intensity of your pleasure. You're on the precipice, teetering on the edge of ecstasy, breath hitching.

“Shit— I'm close!”

As he releases one of your tender breasts, that liberated hand embarks on a journey south, landing at your aching core. His skilled fingers find your swollen clit instantly, tracing circles that send electric shocks of pleasure through your body. A raw, uninhibited moan escapes your lips, a testament to the sweet agony he effortlessly orchestrates.

His voice, a low and husky melody, reverberates in your ear, electrifying your senses. “Just like that, babe,” he moans, each word a caress, sending shivers cascading down your spine. “Cream my cock,” he implores, his desire echoing in the air like a sultry command.

Overwhelming sensations surge through your body, a symphony of pleasure orchestrated by his skillful touch. The relentless rhythm of his thrusts, the expert manipulation of your nipples, and the teasing strokes on your clit become a sensory overload. It's an intoxicating concoction, pushing you past the edge. The coil within you finally unravels, your walls contracting around his cock, squeezing him tight. In the symphony of ecstasy, he releases a strangled moan, a harmonious blend of desire and fulfillment.

Your body becomes a vessel of pleasure, every gasp for air feels like an accomplishment. Namjoon relentlessly maintains the pace, a symphony of passion playing between you. “Namjoon,” you whimper in a strangled voice, the intensity leaving you sounding distant even to your own ears. Your vision blurs with white spots, a kaleidoscope of sensations overwhelming your senses. The weight of ecstasy takes hold, your body feeling both heavy and weightless.

Unable to sustain yourself on your knees, you surrender to the intoxicating euphoria, slumping your head onto the bed, finding solace in the soft embrace of the sheets.

Namjoon holds your ass up, his thrusts becoming a frenzied dance, each movement a passionate punctuation in and out of your convulsing pussy.

“Almost there, babe. Fuck. You just clenched around me even tighter.” he seizes your hips with a firmer grip, plunging into you with more depth, and you muffle your moans into the sheets, desperately clinging to the sensations coursing through you.

He trails his fingers along your spine for a fleeting moment, and then, with a sudden slap to one of your ass cheeks, he accentuates the contrast by tenderly stroking the very spot he just struck. “You're incredible,” he breathes, his touch a symphony of pleasure and pain.

With a final series of deep, powerful thrusts, he slams into you, releasing a torrent of warm, white fluid that coats the walls of your pussy. His subsequent thrusts, though slowing down, maintain a sensual rhythm, drawing out the euphoric connection between your bodies.

“Fucking hell. That was mind-blowing,” he pants, his hands finding a temporary refuge on the curve of your ass as he endeavors to catch his breath. A few beads of his sweat cascade from his forehead, tracing a path down onto your skin. You tilt your head, still recovering your own breath, and respond, “Yeah it was.”

He tenderly strokes your ass cheeks, his softened dick still nestled within you. The gentle caresses feel exquisite, though you become aware of his essence gradually seeping out, tracing a languid path down your thighs.

He remains embedded within your warm pussy until you murmur, “Joon, I'm too exhausted to stay like this.”

He chuckles, his fingers tracing patterns along your ass and spine before withdrawing his cock, leaving you to groan in the void it creates. A cascade of your combined releases trails down your thighs, and as Namjoon spreads your ass cheeks, he admires the aftermath.

“Damn, you look incredible,” he murmurs, his lips descending to kiss the intimate blend of his essence and your arousal on your pussy.

You moan, your body still tingling with sensitivity, and you slump onto the bed, utterly spent. Namjoon chuckles, joining you in a languid sprawl beside you.

Lying side by side, you both catch your breaths while Namjoon spoons you. The intimacy is soothing, his rapid heartbeat against your back almost lulling you to sleep. Suddenly, you feel his hand trace a path from your hips down your thigh, sending a shiver through you.

“I'll clean you up,” he murmurs, breaking the post-passion silence with a promise.

He ascends from the bed, retrieving towels from a drawer to delicately cleanse the intimate aftermath between your legs. Each touch elicits a moan, and you're grateful for the tender care he showers on you.

“Thank you” you sigh, the words carrying a weight of appreciation and a lingering sense of intimacy.

“No problem,” his response comes effortlessly, and he settles onto the edge of the bed, a casual ease in his demeanor.

He breaks the silence, a hint of nervousness in his voice as his hand grazes the back of his head, then he pops the question, “I was actually thinking... if you want to go out on a date with me?”

You shift your body to face him, a tender smile playing on your lips as you reply, “I'd absolutely love that, Namjoon.”

As your fingers intertwine with his, a genuine smile lights up his face, revealing those adorable dimples. “Great. You can call me Joonie by the way,” he says, and seals the moment with a soft kiss on your temple, leaving you breathless once again.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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absurdthirst · 1 year ago

Text

Surrogate Love {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.9k

Warnings: Surrogacy, mentions of impregnation, emotional distance, fighting, drowning feelings, mentions of masturbation, crossing boundaries, technical infidelity, vaginal sex, ovulation, sex to procreate, cock warming, cheating, oral sex (female receiving), pregnancy, divorce

Comments: When Carol cannot have anymore children, she and Dave turn to seeking for a surrogate. Finding you, Dave grows closer to you as Carol seemingly pulls farther away. Leading to a discovery that will alter the agreement between you and the Yorks and allow you and Dave to fall deeper into a complicated love.

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Surrogate Wanted! -Family of four looking for a surrogate to help complete our loving family. -All medical and additional pregnancy related expenses covered. -Plus a fee for carrying the child! -Looking for a young, healthy woman to commit to carrying our child, temporarily moving into our space whilst pregnant and for a few months afterwards to breastfeed. -Must be willing to undergo routine medical testing. -Contact us below if you’re interested!

You read the advertisement over and over before sending an email. Attaching your latest medical and a few details about your family history. Money is tight. Unbelievably tight. And doing this would not only help your financial strain, but you would be doing something wonderful for a family.

What’s the harm in applying? You mumble to yourself after hitting send on the email. Unsure if you’ll even get a response.

“Honey, look at this one.” Dave looks up from his computer to find Carol leaning over his shoulder, reading the email already. “What do you think?” He asks. There have been a few other emails, but they were all unsuitable and this woman has already started providing medical information. And a picture of how lovely she is.

“She looks nice,” Carol says with a roll of her eyes, trying to seem interested as she pulls on her new dress, ready for a girls night out. “Invite her over for an informal interview.”

“Okay.” Dave frowns as he looks over at Carol. “Are you still going out?” He asks. “I thought -“

“My sister needs this,” she says with a pout, “I can’t let her down. It’s just a few hours with the girls. Drinks and karaoke.”

“Okay, yeah sure.” Dave sighs but he nods his head. Carol says that she’s interested in this, she was the one to suggest it. Hiring a surrogate so that third dream baby could happen, but so far it’s been Dave doing all the leg work on this.

Carol lightly pecks Dave's cheek as she grabs her purse ready to go. “Don’t wait up, honey.”

****

Your phone pings with an email alert, asking if you’d be interested in an informal meeting to see if it could potentially be a good fit.

‘Hello, Mr. York.

Thanks for the prompt reply, I would love to arrange a meeting. There’s a cafe just outside the National Mall called ‘Cherry Blossoms’, If you’re free tomorrow we could meet there?

Kind regards.’

The polite response makes Dave interested in meeting the candidate and he quickly sends a reply, agreeing to the time and place. After he does that, he pulls out his work laptop to do some background checks on the person who might be carrying his next child.

‘See you and your wife tomorrow at 1pm.’ You send back, anxious about meeting them but excited about the same time.

****

Arriving at the cafe, Dave sighs and rolls his shoulders back. Aware that the meeting might go horribly sideways since his wife couldn’t drag her hungover ass out of bed to do more than puke in the shower. She was in no condition to come and he had to smother his irritation since he hadn’t told her about this meeting this morning. Instead of dwelling on that, he steps up to the counter and orders a coffee and a muffin, since she hadn’t arrived yet. A quick glance around had told him that.

You walk into the cafe and make your way up to the counter, ordering a hot chocolate before looking around to see if you can spot the couple. A very handsome man puts his hands up and waves to you and you assume that he must be Dave York.

Prettier than he had noticed in the pictures, Dave stands up as you walk over. “I’m sorry.” He starts out, introducing himself and offering his hand. “My wife couldn’t make our meeting this morning. She’s….under the weather.”

You reach out and shake his hand and offer him a warm smile, before taking a seat. “Poor thing, I’m so sorry to hear that! Is she okay? Would you like to reschedule?”

He is surprised that you don’t want to cancel. “Only if you would rather wait to meet my wife?” He flashes you a grin. “Make sure I’m legitimate?”

“I’m happy either way,” you say, before thanking the waitress who’s handing you your drink. “I mean we’re both here, so a chat couldn’t do any harm.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” The background checks on you have come up clean but he wants to know more about you. “What questions do you have for me?”

“If it’s not too personal… Why surrogacy?” You ask before taking a sip of your hot chocolate and humming in delight at the taste.

He had expected that question so he is pulling out his wallet, flipping it open to show you a picture of his family, taken last Christmas. “My youngest, Molly, when she was born, Carol had a lot of complications.” He explains. “She ended up needing a complete hysterectomy.” He had hated it, but it was that or lose his wife and he would rather have her. “That’s my oldest daughter, Alice.” He points to the older girl.

“They’re gorgeous,” you say, peering down at their smiling faces, “I’m sorry to hear about the complications your wife went through. I’m glad to see that both your wife and your daughter are okay though. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Are you okay with using your egg?” He asks seriously. “That would be required, or you would have to go through implantation.”

“Yes, I’m fine with that. Happy for the testing as well… uh… my periods are like clockwork. And I have an app that tracks ovulation.”

“Okay, good.” You don’t seem to think that it’s odd. “All your medical care will be taken care of.” He promises.

“Good to know,” you clear your throat before asking the next question, “If you were to select me, I’d have one hard rule.”

Dave arches a brow and nods. “What is that?”

“You said that you’d require me to move in, I would like at least 4-6 weeks notice before you’re ready to move away from breastfeeding. So I have sufficient time to find myself somewhere to live.”

“Of course.” That’s more than reasonable. “And if you find you would need more time because of the market at that time, I’m sure we can work something out.”

“That sounds good,” you say with a smile, “Just so you know, I am employed. 24 hours a week, I work from home. But I’d be more than happy to help around the house, babysit so you and your wife can have time alone and so on. I graduated college and I majored in computer sciences and I work for a social media company and stay on top of their coding.”

He nods and if he thinks that the hours are low, he doesn’t mention it. Your finances and work are not his concern. It might be good for you to work less while you are carrying the baby. “But so you know, you aren’t obligated.”

“It’s an entry position job,” you say after noticing his reaction to your low hours, “Money is tight and it’s an industry that you’ve got to climb. I took what was available. But i’m an honest hard worker. And I know, I also don’t want you to think I’d expect you to offer me anything until I've met your family and after the medical is done.”

“We pay for the medical, you live with us and breast feed the baby - if you can.” Dave knows that sometimes the baby doesn’t want to latch or milk isn’t plentiful. “And we would pay you eighty thousand dollars.” He holds up a finger. “But no dating or sex during your pregnancy. I don’t want to risk the baby’s health.”

“Yeah I don’t date,” you say with a giggle, “I uh, I’m not the most confident person and casual sex isn’t something I’ve ever had any interest in. $80,000? Perfect. That’s enough to start my life and find somewhere comfortable to rent once the baby is born.”

Now comes his own questions. "Why are you willing to do this?" He asks you, leaving forward and watching you carefully. "And will you be able to give up the baby once they are weaned?"

“Financial stability,” you say honestly, “And yes. I’ll sign anything that’s required.”

"Obviously I'd want you to meet my wife first." Dave leans back, confident that you are what he is looking for. "Once we agree, we could start insemination procedures the following cycle."

“That sounds great. Name the time and place, I’d love to meet your wife.” You say before eyeing up his muffin and trying to work out if you want one. “So what is it that you do Mr York?”

“I work for the DIA.” He sees you eyeing the muffin and takes the knife to cut it in half. He offers it to you and smiles. “Government bureaucrat.”

“Thank you,” you say with your brightest smile, “It’s a bit too early for me to be stealing your food, I don’t have the pregnancy excuse yet. I’m sorry. And whoa. That sounds intense.”

“These muffins are huge.” Dave chuckles and gives a small shrug. “It’s got its moments, but it pays well.”

“Nice,” you say before taking a bite and moaning at how delicious and moist it is. “This is heaven.”

"It's a good little treat." He agrees, finishing off his own half in two quick bites.

“When and where would you like me to meet your wife?”

"Can I call you to schedule a time?" He asks, pulling out his phone. "I don't know when she will be feeling better." It's better you believe that she's sick than just hungover.

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry I didn’t think,” you say with a flood of embarrassment. “And is there anything you’d like me to do in the meantime? I could schedule an appointment with my gynecologist?”

"Don't worry about that." He shakes his head and gives you a smile. You are a little awkward but it's endearing in a way. "I'll text you when I figure out how long it will be and we can arrange something? We can schedule doctor appointments after everyone's met and you can give your final decision on if you would like to do this for us."

“That sounds good,” you beam, “Yeah, you can text me anytime.” The next set of words slip out of you mouth before you’ve even realized you said them and it’s in that moment you’re convinced you’ve blown it. “God. I never thought i’d have the baby of a man who looks as good as you inside of me.”

He's shocked by your honesty and for a moment he freezes, but he grins at the mortification that is riding over your face. "You think I look good, huh?"

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, Mr York,” you groan, “Of course I do. Shit. You’re gorgeous. I didn’t mean to… Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

"That's okay." Dave chuckles and shakes his head. "Attraction is normal. The first thing I noticed was how attractive you were."

You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your entire face as he compliments you, “Thank you, Mr York.”

"Our DNA will produce a very attractive child." He hums, sending you a playful wink.

****

Almost a month since the initial meeting has passed and everything has been great. You met Carol a few days later and the girls a few days after that. Dave had arranged for you to be seen by the most fought after gynecologist in D.C. and all your tests came back great. He had loaded you up with ovulation tests and the decision for home insemination to reduce stress had been made. Dave and Carol would spend time alone together and once he was about to ejaculate he would finish in the pots provided and Carol would bring them down to you and help with the process.

Dave had just helped bring your last box into the basement they had converted that would be your home for the foreseeable future and you were excited.

"Do you need anything else?" Dave asks as he sets the box down and looks around. "I have changed the locks on the basement door, rekeyed them to the rest of the locks in the house." He fishes a set of keys out of his pocket for the walk out door to the side yard. "So you can go out that door if you want."

“No. This is perfect, Mr York,” you say as you look around your new home, “I insist on buying dinner tonight to say thank you.”

He chuckles and shrugs. "It's Friday, we normally order Chinese." He admits with a grin.

“Let me know what to order and where to collect,” you say before giving him a brief thank you hug. Clearly surprising him in the process.

"Oh- uh, you're welcome." He pats your back awkwardly and shoots you a grin. "The girls are easy. Sweet and sour chicken and fried rice for both of them." They had been introduced to you and had immediately found that you were the most fascinating person they had ever met and had a million questions for you.

“And for you and Mrs York?” You love the girls. They have already made you promise to watch a disney movie with them tonight and you’re honestly excited about it.

"Carol likes vegetable lo mein and spring rolls." He tells you with a small shrug. "Me- I like General Tso's shrimp."

“Got it,” you say with a grin. “Consider dinner sorted. And afterwards once the girls are in bed, we can start the process tonight? I mean I'm ovulating and there’s no point in missing a cycle right?”

Dave nods. "Yeah. We can do that before bed." He rolls his eyes and sighs. "I know it's stupid and superstitious, but would you tilt your hips up with a pillow for at least an hour after it's injected?"

“Of course!” You say excitedly, happy to make this happen for them. “Can you believe that part of you will be inside of me tonight!” You say without realizing just how filthy it sounds.

He bites his lip, trying not to say something dirty in return. He knows that you want to help give him and Carol another baby and it’s not going to work if he gets too close to you. “Hopefully, we’ll get lucky on the first try.”

“Fingers crossed, Mr York.”

****

"I have already told them that I'm going out." Carol huffs as she looks at Dave with a pout. "I can't back out now. I'm supposed to pick them up." She shrugs a shoulder. "I thought we would let the poor thing at least unpack before we start shooting her full of your sperm."

Dave huffs and rolls his eyes. "She's ovulating, Carol." He reminds her. "It's not like we can reschedule that."

“I can’t reschedule this. She’ll still be ovulating tomorrow, honey, we can do it then. And make sure you don’t order me food,” she says as she goes back into the bathroom, “We’re getting tapas.”

It's been fucking months. Months of every ovulation cycle he jerks off into a cup and Carol quickly rushes downstairs to inject it inside you. Months of disappointment when your period comes. You have apologized and apologized, cried about it and offered to go back to the doctor for the fifth time, but Dave can't blame you. He sighs and shoves his hand through his hair. "Do you even want to do this?" He demands, feeling like his wife is just brushing this off when it was her idea in the first place. "It doesn't seem like it."

“Of course I do, sweetheart,” she grits out, before rolling her eyes. “These things can take time. Look I know she’s ovulating now, but why don’t we skip this month. Let her destress and pick it up next month. Plus it’ll mean she can take the girls to their after school clubs for me this week, if you’re not obsessing over her cycle.

Dave sighs and shakes his head. "She's not the damn nanny, Carol." He reminds her, having noticed that there have been a lot of 'favors' his wife has been demanding of you despite Dave telling her that she shouldn't be. You weren't here to fucking pick up the girls. You were here to try to give the family the third child both of them said they wanted.

“She’s being paid $80,000,” Carol snaps, “She can do some work for it. I’m not arguing with you. It’s girls night. I refuse to leave the house stressed, or thinking about your goddamn cum, David.”

"You've been having a lot of goddamn ‘girls nights’, Carol." Dave snaps back, clenching his jaw. "Why don't you stay home for once and be a fucking wife and mother?" It's gone from a couple of times a month to two, sometimes three times a week and he's sick of it.

“I need to support my sister, she’s going through a rough time,” Carol repeats for the hundredth time this week, despite never elaborating and her sister always being in high spirits when she visits the house. “I probably won’t be home tonight. Tanya has suggested we go back to hers after food as her husband is away. I’ll be back mid-morning.”

That hazy suspicion niggles in the back of his mind but he doesn't voice it. Instead he sighs and shakes his head. "Just- you still want to do this, right?" He asks again, this time trying not to accuse her. "If you changed your mind, you just need to talk to me."

“Of course, I do,” she says again, “But you’ve gotta be more patient. It takes time. And sometimes it just doesn’t happen. We can give it a few more months… And if it doesn’t happen then… we can tell her to move on and we will have $80,000 to spend on a dream vacation.”

"We could always have her egg harvested and do IVF?" Dave suggests, still not ready to give up on the idea of having that third child that they had always talked about. He was trained to find solutions and this was something he wanted.

“Let’s just keep trying it like this,” she says before grabbing her phone and her purse and getting ready to leave. “She’s bathing the girls right now, tell them Mommy will see them in the morning.”

His jaw clenches as he watches his wife stroll out of their bedroom as if there wasn't a care in the world to be had. Irritated that she was using you to take care of the girls once again. By the time he leaves the bedroom, the front door is closing and he sighs again, moving towards the bathroom where there is a lot of splashing and giggling.

“Hey,” you say as Dave enters the room, and sees you’re just as soaked as the girls. “Made the mistake of letting them play with their water pistols in the tub.”

“Daddy, are we still watching Frozen tonight?” Alice squeals excitedly as he kneels down in front of the tub.

“Of course, sweet pea.” Dave nods as he looks over at you. “I’ll finish bathing the girls if you want to go dry off.”

With a raised eyebrow you keep looking over at Dave and lean down to whisper to the girls with a sneaky look on your face. “Daddy looks awfully dry doesn’t he, babies.”

The adorable giggles that start to fill the room again makes your heart soar as they turn to face a skeptical Dave. And without a second's hesitation they blasters are being pointed in Dave’s direction, their tiny fingers hovering over the trigger.

"Don't you do it." He warns softly, shooting them a faux stern look. "You don't want to start something you can't finish, little girls."

“3 against 1,” You say with a laugh, “He’s bluffing. We’ve got this… 3,2,1… shoot!”

Dave growls, ducking his head when three streams of water start to soak him and he reaches out to slap his arm through the bathtub to send a wall of water across the tub and the instigator of his attack.

You yelp before bursting into a fit of giggles, “I yield, I yield,” you choke out, as the girls continue to soak Dave.

Dave grabs your water gun and turns it on the girls with ruthless glee as they start to shriek and try to avoid his one barrage.

Watching Dave with his girls reaffirms how badly you want to do this for him, he’s the most loving father and it just warms your heart to see how great he is with them. You watch happily for a few minutes as the excitement dies down and the girls start to get restless and want out of the bath. You take Molly as he takes Alice, getting them dried and dressed into their pajamas before sending them downstairs to get comfortable on the sofa so you can set up the movie.

After you’re all dressed in your pajamas and the movie is playing you in the background you whisper to Dave, “Where’s Carol? I got some tips to help with insemination. I thought we’d try tonight.”

Dave sighs and turns to look at you, honestly hurt that his wife has pushed this off. He wants this so bad and he's starting to become frustrated. "She's out. Something about her sister again." He doesn't tell you that she suggested taking off this month, not willing to speak on it. "Do you think you could....do it yourself?"

“Oh,” you say quietly, “I mean I could try. I read somewhere that inserting it slowly rather than pushing it straight in is a better method. Also I read something else that’s supposed to help, so I can try that at the same time.”

"What else?" He frowns, wondering if there's something that he needs to get you or order you. He's been reading everything he can get his hands on but if you've found something, he's all ears.

“Uh,” you say quietly, before looking over at the girls and checking their still engrossed in the movie, “I read an article about um…” Shaking your head, you reach into your pocket and pull out your phone and bring up the article on clitoral stimulation helping the insemination process.

Dave takes your phone and purses his lips as he starts to read. His brows change, lifting and his expression shifting as he delves into the writing and hums. "I- I don't see why you shouldn't try it." He clears his throat and tries not to think about you playing with your clit or anything sexual. This is just supposed to be for making this baby. "But...." He sighs. "That syringe is really long." He frowns, unsure why Carol had decided to pick up a new type when the supplies had run out, but he can't blame her for not wanting to get too close to another woman's vagina. He personally thinks that she is harborning some resentments that she can't carry the baby and is just unwilling to admit it. "Are you sure you'll be able to handle it?'

“I’m not sure,” you say with a shrug, “Maybe I’ll just focus on the syringe. I just can’t really do the other thing with Carol around as it would be uncomfortable for us both. I just really want to do this for you. The worst thing that can happen is I need to change my sheets I guess.”

"If-" He starts and shakes his head. "No, that would be too much." He blows out a disappointed sigh, aware that another opportunity will most likely be lost.

“Tell me,” you say with a raised eyebrow.

"Only if you're comfortable with it...." he stresses, not wanting you to feel pressured in any kind of way. "I could help you." He offers quietly. "Not like I haven't made two kids before. Just not quite with a glorified turkey baster." He huffs, trying to make a joke of it.

“If you’re sure?” You say, “I mean it’s not like it takes long. I could make sure I’m ready and it’ll be over and done with in a few seconds.”

"Do you think -" He sighs and leans in closer to you. The girls are absorbed in the movie but it almost seems wrong to even think about what he's going to say next. It definitely crosses a line but he's tired of jerking off in a cup. "I could do it there and just....transfer it." He suggests. As it stands right now, he's jerking off upstairs and Carol is then taking the cum downstairs to the kitchen, filling the syringe and then carrying it down to you. Maybe something is happening in transit. "I mean, I could use your bathroom?"

“I mean it’s usually cold by the time Carol gets it in the syringe,” you say with a shrug, “So yeah, downstairs is fine.”

Dave frowns, wondering how long it takes for the sperm to cool down, but then again, it's always cool to the touch a couple of minutes after he cums on Carol's tits. "Only if you're comfortable with it." He reminds you. "I don't- don't want you to feel like I'm pushing boundaries."

“We’re making a baby, right? That’s the endgame here. I think sometimes different measures are necessary. When the girls are in bed, we can go downstairs and go from there.”

Dave nods, thankful that you are taking such a rational approach and he shoots you a smile. "Thank you." He whispers softly. "I know that it's not easy for you."

“I just hate that I’ve let you down so far,” you say, a lump forming in your throat, “I just want to make you happy.”

"You haven't let me down." He reaches over and covers your hand with his, squeezing it gently. "Without you, we wouldn't even have this hope. So don't ever think you are letting us down."

The past few months you’ve gotten closer and closer to Dave, spending most evenings eating together and watching a movie. It’s hard not to feel softened by him, despite his tough exterior he’s always so kind and your heart leaps at his touch. “Thank you, Dave.”

The rest of the movie flies by and before you know it the girls are giving you a kiss and hug goodnight. “I’ll see you in the morning, babies,” you promise.

Dave looks at you and you nod, signaling it’s okay for him to join you in the basement once the girls are asleep.

Dave waits until he knows they are asleep, checking on them and closing the bedroom doors as he walks down the hallway. He checks the doors and sets the alarm since Carol isn’t coming home and swallows slightly as he makes his way down to your basement apartment and knocks on the door.

“Come in,” you say with a shaky breath, you’re sitting cross legged on your bed. “How do you wanna do this? If you need porn while you… uh, yeah, I can wait in the hall and you can set it up on the TV.”

“No.” Dave shakes his head. “I don’t need porn.” He bites his lip. “I know you said you wanted to…masturbate before, so where do you want me to?”

“Wherever you’re most comfortable,” you say before biting your bottom lip, “I’m happy to follow your lead.”

He shifts, the idea that pops into his head makes his eyes widen and his cock twitches. He can’t suggest that. It would be completely wrong.

“We could watch each other,” you say, before looking down at your hands, not wanting to see rejection in his face.

Dave’s heart leaps and his head whips around to look at you. Wondering if he had actually heard that for a moment but you are so fluster it must have been. “It’s just to make the baby.” He reasons. “Right? You’ve seen a dick before.”

“Yeah,” you say with a nod of your head, “It’s not like we’re touching each other.”

“Yeah.” Dave frowns slightly, knowing Carol wouldn’t be happy but Carol’s not here and he doesn’t want to waste an ovulation day. “You can use your wand or hand or whatever and I can-“ he grins. “Old fashioned way for me is best.”

“I’ll use my hand… Do you want to see my tits?” You ask softly, not wanting to assume that he’ll want you to fully strip off.

His mouth goes dry and he tries to swallow. “It’s not like I won’t see them when you're breastfeeding.” He reasons again. “But it’s up to you. However you feel comfortable.”

“Will it help you get off? I don’t mind.”

“I like tits.” He admits, rolling his eyes at himself. “But I don’t have to see them.”

“Okay. I’ll stay up here and you can kneel at the bottom of the bed? Will that be comfortable for you.”

“That will work.” He agrees, raising his brow. “Do you want me naked?” He asks. “Or to just pull my cock out?”

“Naked.”

Dave nods, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it onto the floor. “Okay.”

The sight of his broad shoulders and chest makes your moan, and you follow suit. Pulling off your t-shirt, undoing your bra and pulling your sleep shorts and panties off in one clean sweep.

You’re attractive. He knows this. He’s attracted to you, and there’s nothing wrong with that. He’s not trying to sleep with you. He’s not trying to cheat on his wife, he’s trying to make a baby so he and Carol can complete their family. He unzips his pants and pulls them down to kick off.

You can’t keep your eyes off of him, he’s known from day one that you’re attracted to him. You open your legs and reveal your glistening pussy to him, already drenched at just the thought of watching him alone. And you gather some of your slick and drag it up to your clit before drawing slow circles around it.

His boxers come off next and he kneels on the bed, hard cock already bouncing as he does. Eyes fixed on your cunt as he spits in his hand and starts to coat himself in it.

“Fuck,” you mumble at his filthy action, only slightly increasing the pace in which you circle your clit. You don’t want to cum too quickly, you want to enjoy this moment.

“You rub your clit.” He groans, spitting again and wrapping his hand around his cock to start slowly stroking it. “Does it feel good?”

“Feels so good,” you say, as moans start to slip through your lips, “You look so good stroking your cock. It’s so big,” you start to murmur, “So thick. You’ve got a gorgeous cock, Dave.”

It’s been a long time since someone paid him compliments, making him feel like they mean them. His and Carol’s sex life has dropped off drastically and she claims it’s just because wanting to save it for when you’re ovulating.

You watch the way his wrist expertly flicks as he strokes himself, and reach up to soft palming your tit with your free hand. Needing so much more than you can get, you start to rub your clit faster and faster, feeling arousal dripping from you as you bite down the urge to moan his name.

“Shit.” Dave hisses, watching your hand tease your breast and he grunts as his hips rock forward into his hand. This isn’t about wanting to bite your tit and suck on it. It’s about cumming quickly and filling your womb up with his seed.

You watch the pre-cum leak from his top, groaning when he swipes it with his thumb and spreads it down his cock, “Dave,” you moan, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Good.” He grunts, shuffling closer to see, although the cup is right there for him to grab when he’s ready. “Open up your pretty little cervix to let my cum in.”

Your fingers speed up as you chase your high, his name falls effortlessly from your lips as you’re thrown over that edge. “Oh fuck.”

“Good girl.” He grunts, twisting his wrist and groaning as he feels the first blurry edge of his orgasm start to take hold. “Gonna cum.”

“Put it inside,” you beg, “Just the tip, baby. Fill me up.”

Dave groans and he knows it’s wrong, but he does it anyway. Pushing his cock down and pushing the fat tip into your cunt, he starts to cut almost immediately. Filling you with spurt after spurt of his cum as he tries desperately not to push deeper inside you. Knowing that would be so wrong and go against what you just asked him to do.

You clench down around the tip of him, loving the way he’s stretching you open. “Fuck, put a pillow under my hips.”

Tilting your hips up with his hands pushes him deeper inside you, making him groan as he reaches for the pillow. “I- fuck.” He closes his eyes and tries not to react to how good it feels.

You can’t help the moan that leaves you as he pushes deeper and presses against the spot inside of you. “Your wife might be the luckiest woman alive.”

Dave exhales roughly and breathes out. “This is just….it’s easier to do it this way, right?” He asks. “Faster than the turkey baster.”

“Yes, and more efficient.”

Dave agrees and looks back down at you. “That article said orgasms before and after male ejaculation helps conception.” He reminds you. “We could- I could stay like this and you can cum again.” He offers.

“I can play with my pussy whilst you’re still inside of me?” you ask, wanting to make sure that’s what he’s saying.

“And…” Dave bites his lip. “If I get hard again, maybe I can try again? Make sure you

ve got a good load inside you?” He knows he will get hard again, that’s no question for him.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Really good.” You say as you run a finger through your slit, before lightly teasing your clit.

He watches, telling himself again that this is only to make the baby. That way he knows if it doesn’t happen, every possible variable has been accounted for. It’s the back up plan. And if he happens to find it sexy that you are rubbing your clit while the first three inches of his cock are inside you, that’s an added benefit.

You circle your clit with a delicious intensity, biting down on your lip as you watch his face. His eyes focused on your pussy, watching your fingers play with your bundle of nerves and listening to the soft moans that fill the room. You can feel him start to harden inside of you, and you wonder how it would feel to have him filling your needy little cunt.

“Shit.” Dave breathes out, leaning over slightly as he tries not to surge deeper inside you. “Does it feel good? Playing with your clit with me inside you?” He reaches down and wraps two fingers around the base of his cock and starts to pump, trying not to touch you out of respect.

“Feels like heaven,” you say, “How does my pussy feel?”

“Like it’s going to make me cum,” Dave grunts. “Then you’re going to carry my baby for me. Our baby.”

“Fuck,” you say, rubbing your clit even faster, feeling your pussy start to flutter around his tip. “The things I want you to do to me.”

Dave hisses and closes his eyes. Knowing that it’s straying into dangerous territory. “Cum for me.”

Within seconds of his command you’re clamping down around him, your clit pulsing with pleasure as you flood his cock. His name is now a chant that you repeat over and over again.

“Shit, shit.” Dave groans, his own jerky pulls on his cock pushing him closer. “Fuck, gonna fill you up again.”

“Do it, fuck your baby into me.”

It pushes him over the edge and Dave can’t help but push completely into your cunt, filling you up as he starts to paint your walls again. “Fuck- I- I’m sorry.”

“Fuck,” you moan, “Feel so fucking good.” You pant as his cock twitches inside of you, filling you up with his warm seed.

He shouldn’t have ground into you. He shouldn’t have filled you up like that. It was cheating. Dave closes his eyes and pulls his hips back. “Are you okay?” He asks awkwardly.

“I’m okay, are you?” You say, seeing the guilt on his face and feeling your heartbreak over it.

“I’m good.” He promises you. “I just- I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, I didn’t ask.”

“I was practically begging you.” Reaching over you gently press your hand to his cheek, “We were just making a baby. Nothing else.”

“Yeah.” Dave nods, reminding himself that it’s not like he was trying to fuck you. “Hopefully it takes.” He shoots you a grateful smile.

“I hope so. Best daddy ever.” You say with a smile.

He is grateful that you think that as he shuffles off the bed to put his clothes on. “I should let you rest.” He hums.

“You should rest as well, I’ll stay like this for a half hour and then I’ll go get some water before bed.”

“Okay.” Dave nods, biting back the urge to offer to get you the water. He hadn’t been doing things like that before he stuck his dick in you, doing it now would make it weird.

“You sure you’re okay?” You ask as he starts to make his way towards the door.

“I’m good.” He turns and shoots you a reassuring grin, “just worn out.” He lies. “Baby making is tiring and I’m an old man.”

“You’re not old,” you say with a small smile, sensing his discomfort. “Goodnight, Dave. Let’s hope we just made a baby.”

“Me too, sweetheart.” Dave turns back around, “get some rest, okay?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, letting himself out of the door as he curses himself for being such an idiot. He should have known he was going to fuck this up.

Guilt floods you. You practically begged him to enter you, and the regret that he’s wearing so clearly on his face makes your heart hurt. You don’t think he’ll ever forgive you, and you’re not sure you deserve his forgiveness. All you can do is hope you just made a baby.

Upstairs, Dave showers and tries to reassure himself that he didn’t take things too far. You had asked him to put the tip in, and thought you asked for more but he was caught up in the moment. Still, he shouldn’t have done it without making sure it was okay.

Almost 45 minutes passes before you tiptoe upstairs and get yourself a much needed bottle of water and a snack. Deciding that you’ll get to early and make everyone breakfast, you make your way back downstairs and curl up in bed. Praying you haven’t completely fucked everything up.

****

Dave doesn’t sleep. Not because of the situation with you, but because he texted Carol and she didn’t respond. And she’s turned off her location. Not that he tracks his wife, but what if something happened to her? It makes him suspicious and he doesn’t like being suspicious. Not with the line of work he is in. So when he hears the stairs creak, he’s already nursing his second cup of coffee and the oven is warming up for cinnamon rolls.

Creeping into the kitchen, you’re greeted by the unexpected sight of Dave. Your heart once again breaks at the look on his face, clearly regretting ever hiring you and before you have time to process what you want to say, the words are slipping through your lips. “Oh god, Dave, I’m so sorry. I took advantage. You just wanted to make sure that it took, and I was so delirious with pleasure that I didn’t think. I’m so sorry. I let my attraction to you cloud my judgment. Please forgive me.”

"What?" Dave frowns, turning toward you and seeing how distraught you look. You look like you are about to cry and he stands, moving towards you to hug you but then he stops. Unsure of how to touch you right now without it turning into something else. "I took advantage." He reminds you. "I'm the one who shoved it in."

“I begged you to,” you say, tears now streaming down your cheeks. “I’m so so sorry.”

Dave walks over to you and pulls you into his arms, hating that you are crying. "We just got caught up in the moment." He decides, rubbing your back gently. "You don't need to be sorry." It was a moment, a fluke where both of you were acting impulsively.

“I just want to give you a baby, Dave, I see how badly you need this.” You sob into his shoulders, “I promise I won’t overstep anymore boundaries.”

"It's okay." He shushes you, comforting you like he would if you were one of his girls. Although you aren't one of his girls, he shouldn't feel the things that he does about you. But you are so important to him, you are going to give him a baby.

You wrap your arms around him a little tighter and try to ignore the way your traitorous heart leaps at his touch. “I’m sorry, Dave.”

"No," Dave shakes his head and he kisses your hair. "Don't be sorry. It's my fault. You didn't do anything wrong." He sighs. "Carol wanted to skip this month, I'm the one who pushed. This is all me."

“Why would she want to skip?” You say, as your head tells you to loosen your grip but your heart just wants to hold on.

"I don't know." He frowns slightly. "She didn't come home last night." He reveals softly. "And she's turned off her location."

“Oh,” you say, stepping back but letting your hands linger on him. “Maybe something happened with her sister? Have you tried calling her?”

"Tried when I came downstairs to make coffee." Dave motions to his phone. "Goes to voicemail. Texts are delivered but not read. She's got her phone off."

“What about calling her sister?” You say as you rub his shoulders, trying to reassure him.

"No." If there's something else going on, he doesn't want to discover it today. Call it putting his head in the sand, but he has other priorities. "I'll deal with it later when she comes home."

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Nothing.” He promises with a small shrug. “Unless you want to help me make breakfast.”

“Bacon and eggs to go with those cinnamon rolls? Or sausage and biscuits?”

“Bacon and eggs.” The turkey bacon and eggs always go over well with the kids. Especially with cinnamon rolls.

“On it,” you say with a smile, “Do you want more coffee?”

“There should be half a pot left, but why don’t we fill up our cups and make another?” Dave suggests with a smile, walking back over to his cup to snag it off the table.

“No coffee for me,” you announce, “Caffeine intake is being sliced. Orange juice for me!”

“I’ll make sure to pick up some more when I go to the store.” He appreciates your dedication to this.

“Thank you, Dave. Should I wake the girls or wait until breakfast is ready? I was gonna cut up some strawberries.”

“I’ll go wake them.” Dave turns and then pauses. “Carol’s been having you do a lot around here and I just want to remind you that it’s not necessary.”

“I like it,” you admit, “I love the girls. Spending time with them is one of the best parts of my day.”

"Okay." He murmurs slowly. "I just don't want you to feel like you have to."

“I know, Dave.” You start to slice the strawberries and focus on that, ignoring the tension that’s floating in the air.

"Thank you again." He says before he turns back around. "For everything."

“You’re welcome,” you say softly, before finishing up breakfast and waiting for the girls to come down.

Dave wakes the girls up, chuckling when they grumble at him but they are quickly roused from their bed by the promise of an indulgent breakfast and a morning of cartoons in their pjs. Laughing to himself when they thunder down the stairs with their stuffed animals in tow.

“Hi babies,” you say as they make a beeline to the table, “Do you want milk or juice?”

"Milk!" Molly chirps while Alice simultaneously shouts "Juice!" Dave rolls his eyes at the way the girls are so very obstinate. Unlike each other in so many ways but then so alike in others.

“So milk for Alice, and juice for Molly,” you tease, before pouring the correct drink in each of their cups. “Your daddy was just telling me about how much he enjoyed the water fight from last night and how he thinks you should do it more often. Right, Daddy?”

"Oh sure." Dave nods, cutting his eyes at them. "Next time I will be fully armed." He promises with a grin that makes their little eyes widen in delight and possibly a little bit of fear.

“We can take him. Girl power. 3 against 1. He doesn’t stand a chance,” you say as they begin to giggle.

"Keep it up and I'll get the water hose out." He warns with a dark chuckle.

“Ooh, I’m so frightened,” you tease back, “What do you girls want to do today?”

"Where's mommy?" Molly frowns, looking exactly like Dave as she does.

Sensing the discomfort in Dave you answer for him, “She is out having some girl time with her friends. I bet she’s missing her babies though. So we better have a super fun day so you can tell her everything when she’s home.”

“Can we bake?” Alice says between mouthfuls of her food, “Daddy’s favorite. Chocolate cake.”

He's grateful that you answered for him and he grins. "Daddy's favorite, huh?" He asks, raising his brow. "I think it's Ms. Alice's favorite, more than mine."

You laugh as you watch their little back and forth, “Daddy, it’s your favorite because it’s my favorite. You’re so silly.”

“That’s right.” Dave snaps his fingers and looks so disappointed in himself. “I’m so sorry for forgetting, baby.”

The rest of breakfast is spent watching Dave and his girls joke around, and silently hoping that you’re going to give this man the baby he is yearning for. The girls accompany you on a trip to target for baking supplies while Dave stays home and clears up. With a cake baked and half eaten, endless episodes of Bluey streamed and a dance party that the girls had insisted you join in with over, it’s almost their bedtime and you’re just as exhausted as they are.

You take the girls up to bed as he dishes out the Indian takeout that he had ordered for you both. Carol clearly wasn’t coming home today, and seeing as she hates Indian food, he decided to indulge in his favorite as a treat.

Dave looks over at you as he eats his curry and catches your eye. “So what are your plans after the girls go to sleep?” He asks.

“Netflix I guess,” you say with a shrug, “What about you?”

“Hopefully the same as last night.” He admits, watching you carefully.

Your breath hitches, “Let’s hope they fall asleep soon then,” you reply softly.

He watches you for a moment and then nods. He's not sure if Carol will come home tonight but he doesn't care right now. "I'm sure they will."

“You want to just put the tip in again?” You ask, as the need between your legs grows.

Dave clears his throat and bites his lip. "What do you want?"

“You.”

Huffing quietly, Dave understands what you mean but he pretends that he doesn't. "My seed you mean?"

“If that’s what you’ll give me,” you say as your heart sinks, clearly having misread the situation. “Let’s make you a baby.”

Dave murmurs your name quietly to have you look at him again. “We can- I- I don’t know what you want.”

“I want you to put the baby you want in me,” you say, before looking back down at your plate and pushing your fork around.

“No.” He shakes his head. “You said you wanted me.”

“I know what I said,” you say, before pushing your chair back and standing up, “Sounds like the movie has finished. I’m going upstairs to check on the girls.”

"Wait-" He sighs as you dart out of the room and he knows that he's blown everything. He doesn't understand what is going on and he pulls his phone out of his pocket. Opening his contacts and selecting his sister-in-law's number.

The girls are fast asleep, but snuggled up to each other and gripping onto their favorite stuffed animals. You lean over and gently kiss both of their foreheads before tucking them in, seeing no use in moving Alice to her own bed when she’s quite content with her sister. Switching the TV off and turning on the nightlight, you sneak out of the room, leaving the door open slightly and making your way downstairs.

Dave's jaw is tight, his phone nearly crushed in his hand, he's gripping it so hard. Closing his eyes as he resists the urge to put his fist through a wall, or destroy something in a rage. It wouldn't do any fucking good and it would scare the girls.

“Hey,” you say, as you enter the kitchen, seeing the expression on his face. He looks furious and heartbroken at the same time, and you’re not sure whether to immediately give him space or go over and console him.

He shakes with anger, vision going white and for a moment, it sounds as if you are muted. Underwater and sounding like you are miles away as the pressure from the blood pounding in veins rushes through his ears.

You look over to the door of the basement and look back at Dave trying to gauge what the best thing to do here is. The sadness seems to have drained from his face and been replaced with sheer anger.

It takes Dave another minute before he gets ahold of himself. Purposefully thinking about something else and recalling his breathing techniques as he closes his eyes and slows his rushing heart down.

“Dave,” you say softly, as you approach him, gently reaching out and gripping his wrist, “What happened?”

"I called Maria." He tells you quietly, his voice low, nearly inaudible. "Carol isn't with her. Hasn't been with her." He inhales roughly. "She's not been out to a girl's night with her sister in nine goddamn months."

“Oh shit,” you say, before pulling him in for a hug, “Dave, I’m so sorry. Hopefully she’ll tell you the truth when she gets back.”

"She's cheating on me." Dave growls. "Maria told me everything. Carol told her that I had 'opened our marriage'." He rolls his eyes. "Told her that you were my live-in girlfriend."

“Oh, honey,” you say, letting him go and taking a step back, “I’m so so sorry.”

"Fucking bitch." He hisses, shaking his head. "We talked about this. She must have decided that I would be so fucking busy trying for a baby that I wouldn't pay attention to her bullshit."

You don’t know what to say to console him, so you just stand there and be the listening ear he needs right now. You reach out and gently rub his shoulder.

Dave closes his eyes and sighs, shaking his head. "It's obvious that the idea to have a baby with her is done." He admits. "I'm going to be getting a divorce."

“Oh,” you say, “That makes sense. I’ll contact my Mom in the morning and see if I can crash at hers for a while. Get out of your hair.”

"No." His hand reaches out and he grabs your. "No, don't- don't do that." He asks, opening his eyes and staring at you.

“I don’t want to get in your way, Dave,” you sigh, “Do you think you still want this? Going through a divorce and juggling a newborn as a single father. It’s a lot to think about.”

"You don't have to be in my way." Dave can't possibly think rationally right now but he knows one thing, he still wants you. "I wanted to fuck you last night." He admits. "I wanted to fuck you and not fucking jerk off and cum inside you."

“Fuck,” you say, “You wanted me?” You shake your head, knowing he’s just had news that’s turned his entire life upside down right now, and no matter how you feel for him, you can’t act on it. It would be taking advantage.

"I want you." He corrects.

“Dave,” you mumble, unsure what to do. Your heart says kiss him, let him take out his pain on your body by demanding it gives him pleasure, but your head says let him go to bed. Sleep on it.

"If you don't want to, walk away." He warns you after a second, his eyes turning darker. "Go downstairs and I won't follow you. But the smallest part of you does want to, go up to my bedroom."

After staring him down for a few minutes, feeling your arousal begin to drip down your thighs, your feet make the decision for you. Turning towards the stairs and taking each step carefully. Walking to the end of the hall and pushing open the door to the master bedroom.

It's wrong on so many levels and yet, Dave doesn't feel guilty. He looks down at his hand and contemplates for a moment before he reaches for his ring to slide it off his finger. Setting it down on the kitchen table, he turns around and walks out of the room and rushes towards the stairs.

You watch him as he strolls in the room, closing the door behind him and turning to look at you. “If you want this, Dave, if you really want to fuck me... Prove it. Undress me. Lay me down and show me just how much you want me, and if I'm satisfied I’ll let you fill up this little cunt.”

Dave hums, smirking slightly at the bossiness of your sudden change of attitude. "Is that how this is going to go?" He asks, raising a brow. "I have to prove it to you?"

“I’m not the one who’s leaving a multi-year marriage,” you say before perching on the edge of the bed and watching him.

"How do you want me to prove it to you?" He asks, starting to strip all of his clothes off. "I'm thinking about what I used to imagine when I was jerking off into that cup." He admits. "You sitting on my face. Smothering me in your pretty little pussy."

“That’s what you were thinking about yesterday or before?” You ask, wanting to confirm that he’s been wanting you for a while.

"Since the first week." He admits. "It's something I wanted to know. How you tasted. It was all I thought about while fisting my cock and spilling into a cup. Giving you my cum to insert into that cunt."

“Fuck, you wanna taste my pussy?” You mewl before standing back up, “Undress me and I’ll take a seat on that gorgeous face.”

Dave reaches for you, already nude and hard, his hands eager as he pulls your clothes off. Not caring if he stretches or rips something in his haste to strip you down.

Once you’re fully naked in front of him, you grab his hand and slowly drag it up the inside of thighs, letting him feel just how much you want him. “Since you said you wanted a repeat of last night, my pussy has been dripping for you. Soaked my panties within seconds and since then it’s been spreading down my thighs.”

"Do you know how good you felt?" Dave groans. "I felt bad about it, because I wanted to do it again. I wanted to cheat on Carol." He twists his fingers and slides them through your folds. "But now, now I'm just going to fuck you and not feel bad about it, I'm not married anymore. The rest is just legal bullshit."

“Fuck me then, York,” you challenge, “You knew from the second I first saw you that I wanted you.”

Instead of saying anything, Dave grabs you and pulls you down on the bed. Laying down and pulling you on top of him.

“You want me to ride that face or your cock? I’ve never sat on someone’s face before…”

"Face first." Dave groans. "Then my cock."

You hesitate for a moment, a little uncertain of how to make sure you don’t hurt him before you move up. Lowering yourself so you’re hovering just above his mouth.

He can tell you are hesitant and he reaches up to grab you hips and yank you down onto his mouth greedily like he is man starving and you are his last meal.

“Dave,” you yelp as he pulls you down onto his face. You reach out to hold on to the headboard as you patiently wait for him to start tasting you.

He chuckles and doesn't hesitate to slide his tongue through your folds, groaning at the tangy taste of your cunt and arousal. Gripping your hips tighter and making sure that you don't move away from his greedy mouth.

“Oh, Dave,” you whimper, as he starts to lap at your clit before moving down and pushing his tongue into your cunt. “Oh, fuck.”

He groans, spearing his tongue up into you while his nose presses against your clit. Rocking you back and forth to provide some friction.

“Dave,” you pant, over and over, as you start to rock your hips. The sensation is new, you’ve never really been with anyone who makes your pleasure a priority and he’s eating your pussy like a man starved.

Your taste, your moans has him aching as he gets exactly what he wants. Letting go of one of your hips, he reaches down and starts to wrap his fist around his cock. Groaning into your cunt like he is pained.

You rock your hips faster as you near your high, his mouth working magic on you. You throw your head back in pleasure and as you do you catch a glimpse of something moving, turning your head slightly you see him fisting his cock as he groans into your pussy. “Fuck, my pussy taste that good, baby? That you’ve got to fuck your own fist?”

He can't answer you because it means that he would have to pull his lips away from your cunt. Not willing to pull his tongue out of your warmth for a single second while you are dripping into his mouth. He groans, doubling down on his efforts to make you cum.

The only word you’re able to speak is his name, it falls out of your mouth over and over as he works you towards your high. Your thighs tighten around his head, as you start to cum. Hands gripping onto the headboard as you flood his face.

Dave hisses, his fist tight around his cock and squeezing so that he doesn't cum. Nearly ready to from the sweetness of your release and your cries.

“Fuck,” you murmur as you lift yourself off of his face, “Hi, baby.” You giggle as you look down at his soaked face.

"Hi." He smirks, a little pussy drunk and he lets go of his cock so he can stroke your hip.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask, as you run your hands through his hair, loving how blissed out he looks.

"Yes." He nods as he looks up at you. He's wanted to kiss you, and now there is nothing to stop him.

Wasting no time, the second he gives you permission you smash your lips against his. Not caring that they’re still damp with your arousal, you lick across his bottom lip as a silent plea for entry.

It's been years since Dave has kissed someone besides Carol. The pecks on the lips with the girls don't count. Years since he has kissed someone like he was going to devour them. And that is exactly what the kiss between the two of you turns into.

You moan freely into his mouth, letting him take the lead as he kisses you with an intensity that makes your heart flutter. Reaching down you grip his cock, giving it slow languid strokes.

"Fuck." Dave groans, twitching in your fist but he thinks of something and pulls away. "Do you- do you want me to wear a condom?" He asks breathlessly.

“Fuck no,” you say before pulling him back for another kiss.

He moans into your mouth, needing to be inside you now that there is nothing stopping him. "Ride me." He begs.

“Yes, sir,” you giggle, lining yourself up with him and slowly sinking down. Moaning from the stretch of him. “Fast or slow, baby?”

"Fuck." He groans. "You could just stay right there." He promises, watching you as you adjust to him in this new position.

“You just want me to keep your fat cock warm?”

You could, he wouldn't have any problem with you just sitting on his cock all night but he thinks you want more. "Later." He groans, pushing your hip with his hand, urging you to move. "Remember that I can't keep going if you make me cum too quickly."

“You can use your mouth and fingers though,” you say before grinding down on him, loving his filthy groans. “How often did you play with cock and think of me?” You ask as you rock your hips back and forth, nice and slowly.

"Every fucking time." Dave grunts, bracing his feet on the bed and starts to roll his hips up to meet yours. "Every fucking time I jerked off."

“Fuck,” you groan, before increasing your speed. “I think about you too,” you admit, “Those fucking shoulders. Imagined you putting my legs over them so you could fuck me deeper.”

Dave hisses, rocking his hips up harder. "Yeah?" He asks. "You knew how big my cock was before last night?"

“It’s honestly bigger than I was imagining,” you say before gasping, “And I was imagining a big cock.”

He grunts proudly, grabbing your hips and pulling you down to make sure he grinds deep into you. Wanting to make you feel every inch of him.

“You gonna make me cum on it,” you challenge as you snap your hips forward.

"Fuck yes." He hisses, gritting his teeth and snapping his hips up hard enough to make you bounce.

“Dave,” you gasp, as he forces the air out of your lungs, you bounce up and down on his length, grabbing one of his hands and placing it on your tit.

Dave palms you tit and squeezes it, grunting at how perfect it fits in his hand. Watching as you ride his cock like you had imagined and yet, it is so much better.

He fucks into that delicious spot with ease, making you almost delirious with pleasure. With a few more rolls of your hips, you find your walls fluttering around him, before clamping down, choking his cock and cumming hard.

Dave groans, wrapping his arms around you and he takes over. Feeling that you can’t move anymore and he starts thrusting up into you like his life depends on it.

“Fill me up,” you plead, grateful for the change in power right now. “Please, baby.”

"I will, fuck, I will." Dave groans out your name. Starting to chant it with every thrust of his hips. Until he finally pushes deep and starts to cum, filling you up just like you begged him to.

You love the way he overwhelms you, everyone of your senses are on fire in the most delicious way and it’s because of him. “Fuck,” you groan as he finishes filling you up, “So many nights of imagining this, and it was a million times better than I ever could have imagined.”

He nods, panting as he closes his eyes. "I- I shouldn't' have wanted it, but I did." He admits, holding you close. "It's so much fucking better than I ever thought of."

You giggle, loving the way he reacts to it. Still buried deep in your pussy, and groaning as your flutter and clamp down around him. “You wanna wake me up with your cock?” You ask before pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I can do that.” He doesn’t motion for you to get off him, and sighs softly. “I need to ask you a question though.”

“Should I be worried?” You ask, as you shuffle off of him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, instead of climbing in next to him.

“No?” He frowns, shaking his head and looking down at his hands before he starts talking. “Now that- now that Carol and I aren’t going to be staying together….if you wanted to stop this…surrogacy, I understand.” He tells you. “I know it’s not what you signed up for.”

“What do you want?” You ask, before running your hands through your hair. “I know how good of a dad you are, and despite what I said earlier, if anyone could juggle a newborn and all of this… it would be you. And I'd be here to help and breastfeed for as long as you need me.”

He blows out a small sigh and he shakes his head. “You don’t want what I’ve discovered I want.”

“What do you want?” You say, confusion evident on your face.

“I want to do this with…..with a partner, but you don’t want to be a parent and I don’t want you to feel like you have to.” He’s not saying things right and he shakes his head. “Just forget I said something. It’s not a good idea.”

“If you’re asking me to have a baby with you, you’re going to have to at least take me out to dinner first.” You say, before giggling and moving your face up to his, “Kiss me, idiot.”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head but he leans in to kiss you. “I don’t know when I started imagining raising the baby with you.” He confesses. Maybe it was all the time you spent together, but he hadn’t imagined you leaving after the baby was weaned.

“Can’t pretend my heart didn’t stutter when you said ‘our baby’ last night,” you admit, “But we have to be smart here. The girls. Carol. The fact we haven’t even been on a date yet… And honestly I could be pregnant right now… We need to sit and have a conversation out of this post sex haze.” You climb into bed next to him and lightly press a kiss to his lips, “Right now I know two things… 1. How badly I want you. 2. We have a lot to figure out.”

“We’ll figure them out.” Dave promises, wrapping his arms around you, “I want to figure them out.”

“Me too. You wanna be the little or big spoon, baby?” You ask before you pepper a kiss on his shoulder.

It’s been a hard day and he chuckles to himself. “Would you think less of me if I wanted to be the little spoon?”

“Not at all, baby.” Letting go of him, so he can shift around in your arms.

Dave turns over and sighs when you wrap your arms around him. Finding comfort in the fact that you care about him. Carol cheating on him is going to change everything in his and his girls life, but it might be for the better. He might get to have you.

“Goodnight, my love,” you mumble against his warm skin, placing a few kisses between his shoulder blades and wrapping your arms just a little tighter.

****

When Dave wakes up, he smiles as he feels your arm still around him. Apparently neither one of you moved during the night. He hums, shifting slowly as he turns to face you.

You wake up to Dave shifting in your arms, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. One of his hands slowly rubs the bottoms of your back as you move a little closer to him, “Good morning, you sleep ok?” Your mumble sleepily.

“Never woke up.” Which for him was a miracle. He smiles, admiring the way that you are struggling to keep your eyes open. “You look beautiful first thing.”

“Flatterer. And good, I’m glad, I didn’t either. Slept like a baby.” You say as you press yourself up against him. Grinning when you feel how hard he is already.

"Good." You had said you wanted him to wake you up on his cock, but you managed to open your eyes before he could get into position. So now he leans in and kisses you while rolling you onto your back.

You let him mould your body as he pleases, his mouth refusing to leave yours as he climbs on top of you, his fingers snaking between your bodies and slowly circling your clit.

Instead of rush through things to push inside you, Dave decides to take it slow. He's got all morning, the girls won't be up for at least another hour and on Sundays they liked to watch cartoons before the designated brunch time.

“Feels so good,” you moan as he plays with your clit, his lips lightly ghosting your neck as you moan his name. “You want me to stroke your cock, baby?”

"No." He kisses along your neck and nuzzles your pulse, inhaling the scent of you. Warm and soft with sleep, arousal now mixing with it. "Gonna slide inside you of you soon enough."

“Sounds perfect,” you say quietly, loving how perfectly you fit together, “Keep the pace nice and slow.”

"Lazy lovin' Sunday." He hums, smiling against your skin.

“Sign me up for more,” you say with a soft laugh, “All of them.”

"Yeah?" He huffs quietly, rocking his hard cock against your mound slowly. "You want to do this every Sunday?"

“Baby, I want to do it everyday,” you say as his fingers rub a little harder, your orgasm just teetering over the edge.

“Don’t know if I could do it everyday.” He chuckles. “Getting old.”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me,” you choke out, as pleasure explodes behind your little bundle of nerves, cumming with a soft moan of his name, as he whispers soft praises in your ear.

When you come back down, Dave pulls his hand away so he can slide between your thigh. Pressing against you and slowly rocking his hips forward as he starts to sheath his cock in the tight walls of your pussy.

One of your hands gently holds onto the back of his head, while the other one grips onto his hip. The heft of him a glorious stretch, as he pushes himself in, taking his time and giving you a moment to adjust once he’s filled you to the hilt. “Could stay like this forever.”

"Have to eventually eat." He teases, nudging his nose against yours and then kissing your lips.

“You’re gorgeous, did you know?” You say after he softly kisses your lips.

"Distracting me." He hums, kissing you again. "You are the gorgeous one." He murmurs quietly, starting to slowly move. "You were going to sacrifice your body, your womb to give me a baby."

“Oh, you feel so good,” you whine as he starts a slow but delicious rhythm, notching against paradise. “How could I say no to those big brown eyes?”

"Ask everyone who turned me down." He hums, flashing you a small smile and trying not to let Carol's betrayal affect him, affect this. He shouldn't have fallen in love with you, but he did and he's not going to apologize for it.

“Their loss is my gain,” you say, “But no one else but me and you exist right now.” You whisper into his ear.

"No one else." It might be ironic, promising fidelity when he is technically cheating on his wife, but he feels single. Or at least his emotional attachment to Carol severed the moment he learned about her affair.

“Make love to me,” you whisper softly into his ear, “Please.”

It's soft, sweet. Dave takes his time and doesn't try to push anything but the softest sounds out of you. Each slow thrust accompanies a kiss and some praise.

Your hands trail the expanse of his shoulders, dipping down his back and finding home on his hips, you can feel that delicious pressure building but you don’t want to let go just yet, needing desperately to fall off that ledge at the same time.

"Baby." Dave groans quietly in your ear. "Need you to cum for me."

“Call me baby, again,” you say, before clamping down around him, “Cum with me.”

"Baby." He grunts, pushing his hips a little harder. "Baby." He feels his body tensing. "Baby." He chokes out before he buries himself deep and pours himself into you.

You clamp down around him hard. Cumming with the softest, sweetest whimper of his name. Your arms wrap around him as he groans your name once more, before dropping down and capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.

He pulls away only when he finally needs to take a breath, humming softly as he reaches up and caresses your cheek.

“You know I’m going to expect you to exclusively call me baby now I know how good it sounds?” You laugh as you push his hair back out of his face.

He chuckles and nods. "Figured."

“Sorry to darken the mood, but she’s probably going to be home today,” you sigh, “With work tomorrow. You want to spend a few nights downstairs with me until it’s all figured out?”

Dave sighs and he hates to acknowledge that but he nods. "Yeah." He leans down and kisses you again. "Just until I can get her ass served with divorce papers."

“At least we can be loud down there,” you say as you nuzzle your nose against his, “That’s if you’re not ‘too old’ to go again later.”

He snorts and shakes his head. "Might be." He jokes, nudging his nose against yours. "But you need to shower." He smirks at you playfully. "You smell like sex."

“So do you.” Kissing his lips once more you gently push him off you and climb out of bed, “Wanna join me?”

"I shouldn't." He admits, sitting down on the bed. "Just in case she comes home or the girls wake up."

“Guess it’ll just be me and my imagination then,” you say with a fake huff, “I’ll see you after, we can make the girls breakfast again.”

"Hey." Dave calls out and smirks at you when you turn to look at him. "I love you."

“I love you too.” You say, before slipping downstairs to shower.

****

The morning goes by in a blurred frenzy, Molly tells you that she needs 36 cupcakes to take to school with her tomorrow, and with Carol not back it’s down to you to bake them.

It’s only once you’ve finished frosting the final cake that you hear her car pull up onto the drive and Dave flashes an annoyed glance in your direction.

"Girls, why don't you go upstairs and play?" Dave suggests, ignoring the way they whine and try to stall, but he breathes a sigh of relief when they disappear to go upstairs. He turns towards you and watches you carefully. "Do you want to go downstairs?"

“Do you want me to? I can go if you want or stay and support you. Either way is fine.”

"I'm not going to confront her about everything." He tells you. "But I don't want you to face her wrath if she gets pissy."

“I can take it, but if you want me to go, I’ll go, baby.” You say before reaching out and caressing his cheek, sighing at the sound of her key turning in the door. Peppering the quickest of kisses on his lips.

He should send you away, but he doesn't. Realizing how much you care about him because you are willing to face whatever mood Carol is in just to stand beside him. He looks at you softly before his eyes harden as the door opens and Carol calls out. "In the kitchen." He calls back, voice flat.

“You’ve got this,” you whisper before briefly squeezing his hand. You both say nothing as she waltzes back in the house, tossing her car keys down on the counter and immediately going to the refrigerator and getting herself a bottle of water.

"Where have you been?" Dave asks quietly, sitting at the table watching as she twists the cap off the bottle and guzzles down half of it.

She giggles before slamming the bottle down, “Oh, Dave, you won’t believe it,” she says with a roll of her eyes and a huge grin splashed across her face, “Me, Maria and Tanya had one too many and ended up in Atlantic City! Of course I didn’t have my charger so I couldn’t contact you, but it was so great! Exactly what Maria needed.”

"Is it?" At least Maria hadn't lied when she told Dave that she wouldn't breathe a word of their conversation to Carol. She had been horribly apologetic, nearly tearful when she realized her sister had lied to her. "Is she feeling better now, then?" He asks.

“So much better,” she says before finishing the rest of her water, “I can’t believe we ended up there… The AmTrak really shouldn’t run at that time of night. Anyway I should shower…” She turns to look at you, “Could you have lunch ready when I get back downstairs? I’m starved.”

"She is not the maid." Dave reminds his wife. "Fix your own damn food."

“Excuse me?” Carol says, raising her eyebrow, “She lives here rent free, she can fix me a damn sandwich. What is your problem, David?”

"My problem is that you were supposed to be home two days ago, Carol." Dave doesn't raise his voice, he doesn't shout or throw anything. "You didn't call, you didn't give a fucking shit if your husband or your children knew if you were okay. You waltz back in and ask our surrogate to fix you a fucking sandwich."

“I told you I couldn’t call. Maria needed me, Dave. This is my home, she’s living here for free in exchange for me pumping her full of your cum. A sandwich won’t kill her.”

"Don't say it like that." Dave huffs. "You agreed that that was what you wanted. Have you changed your mind?"

She rolls her eyes dramatically, and she shakes her head. “No honey, you could just be a little more accommodating when it comes to the needs of my family.”

"Go take your damn shower." Dave tells her. "I'll fix you a fucking sandwich."

“No, she will fix me a sandwich. I need you to pack me an overnight bag, Maria wants us to go to the spa tonight. Last minute deal on groupon.”

“Carol.” Dave frowns at his wife and shakes his head. “It’s Sunday. I have work tomorrow. I’m not going to a spa.”

“Oh, honey,” she says with a laugh, “I meant me and Maria. Not ‘us’.”

Dave’s hands are on his hips and he contemplates just packing her a bag and letting her go. Taking the easy way out but he shakes his head. “Sure, Carol. Whatever you say.”

“Dave,” you say, as he lets her walk over him, “You deserve better than this.”

“Excuse me?” She scoffs at you, as you continue to focus on him. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I talked to Maria yesterday.” Dave announces, staring at Carol.

“What?” She splutters, “When?”

“Don’t worry about when.” He huffs and grits his teeth. “Where were you really?”

She sighs and walks over to Dave, wrapping her arms around his neck and pouting, “I just needed a few days to myself, baby, this whole surrogacy thing is so stressful. I’m sorry.”

He pulls away from her, knocking her arms from around his neck, “you owe me at least the fucking truth, Carol.” He hisses. “Be honest. For fucking once.”

“Leave,” she hisses at you, “You’re the reason I felt like I needed to escape my family for a few days.”

“Oh, that wasn’t Robert that made you feel the need to leave?” Dave sneers.

“What exactly did Maria tell you?” She says, clearly relenting and sitting on the stool behind her. “Make her leave and we can talk honey, we don’t need her meddling in our business.”

“She can stay.” Dave shakes his head and scoffs. “Maria told me enough, don’t worry.” He promises her. “My lawyer’s already been called.”

“Saline.” She says with a smirk, “You were right. I didn’t want another baby, but I knew you were adamant you wanted us to try surrogacy.” She turns to look at you and laughs, “Looks like he has no use for you anymore either, no chance you’re knocked up with salt water.”

He nods, furious but at least he knows why it didn't seem like the inseminations were working. "How long have you been fucking this guy Robert, Carol?" He asks, holding up his hand when you start to speak.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs, “He ended it last night. The spa trip was a cover up to go and get some of my stuff I left at his.” She admits, no point in lying anymore.

"How fucking long?" Dave demands, his voice hardening slightly and his eyes dark.

“Just over a year,” she scoffs, “Does it matter? Do we really need to be having this conversation in front of her? She should have started packing her bags the second I told you both about the saline.”

"No, but you can pack your bags." Dave tells her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Get out of my house, Carol. We are done."

“No, we are not,” she shrugs, “We can find another surrogate and try again. We will have the baby and move on together.”

“No,” you say, courage coursing through your veins, “He will have a baby, but it will be with me. And I’ll spend the rest of my life doing the one thing you were too stupid to do, and I’ll show him how appreciated and loved he is.”

Dave lifts a brow at your impassioned speech and smirks at the way Carol's jaw drops in surprise. "I've already given my lawyer the evidence, Carol." He tells her. "Just like I'm going to forward this video of you confessing to adultery to him."

She ignores Dave and instead sneers at you, “You’ll get bored of him. Just like I did. I’d run if I was you, get out of here as quickly as you can.”

“I’m good,” you say before reaching out and grabbing his hand, “Fell in love with him that very first day in the cafe. Fell even harder watching how incredible a father he is, fell some more when he made love to me this morning. Will continue to fall harder and harder for the rest of my life.”

"Get out, Carol." Dave tells her quietly, squeezing your hand and looking over at you with soft love in his eyes. "I'll tell the girls you will be there to see them this weekend, but I want you to go. You made your choice, so I've made mine." His choice is you. You and his girls and whatever kids you might have together.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” she scoffs before grabbing her keys, “And i’ll be ready for you to apologize, so we can move on from this. Make sure that little slut is out of our basement before I get back.”

He sighs and shakes his head, watching her walk away and doesn't flinch when the door slams behind her. "Gonna have to change the fucking locks." He sighs before he looks over at you and grins. "You heard her. You need to be out of the basement by tomorrow."

“I heard her loud and clear, baby,” you say before pulling him in for a heated kiss, “I’m just thinking about how you’re planning on fucking this little slut tonight.”

"Might be too tired from moving all your stuff into the master bedroom." He smirks, wrapping his arms around you. "Unless you're still ovulating."

“Oh I think moving can wait until the morning,” you smirk, “Save that energy ‘old man’, Daddy is going to be railing the fuck out of this little pussy tonight.”

“Sounds good to me baby.” Dave smirks and pulls you close. “Tonight we’re going to make our baby.” He promises.

“Keep calling me, baby, and we can make our baby right here and right now.” You tease, before kissing him hard and slow. “I was telling the truth by the way, fell in love with you the second I saw those big gorgeous brown eyes.”

He hums, knowing that you mean it. His hand slides down and he cups your ass. "I started falling in love with you while you've been living here." He admits, knowing you will understand that. "But I think that it's fair enough to say that I am completely in love with you, baby."

“Good,” you say before scrunching up your nose and nuzzling it against his, “Guess now I can tell you about the sex dream I keep having.”

"Tell me all about it." Dave pulls you close and closes his eyes. He's still hurt about Carol's betrayal, about her tearing their family apart. But he also has to thank her for it. If she hadn't been unfaithful, he wouldn't have met you, he wouldn't have fallen in love with you and he wouldn't be planning on creating a life with you.

“Keep dreaming about slowly riding your cock, your lips wrapped around one of my nipples, tasting the milk I make for our baby. Listening to you telling me how sweet it is. How sweet I am. Before tasting more.”

“That sounds more like a prediction than a dream.” Dave murmurs. He had already thought about watching you breastfeed and seeing your tits full of milk, and how he won’t have to deny those thoughts. “Let’s see if we can’t make dreams come true.”

“I would love to. I love you, Dave York.”

****

[SIX MONTHS LATER]

You groan at the clock next to you, reading 4:23AM. Your pregnancy cravings refuse to let up, but your aching and swollen feet makes it too difficult to get up and out of bed.

You don’t want to wake him, he’s been so supportive, so wonderful and spends a good forty minutes every evening luring you to sleep with his tongue. Knowing it’s the only thing that relaxes you enough to sleep. But you had made the decision to attempt to ignore your craving after dinner and it’s come back to bite you in the ass. You groan again as you think about the rocky road in the freezer, calling your name.

Wordlessly, he sits up and presses a kiss to your forehead and before you can apologize for waking him, he’s shushing you and getting out of bed.

A few minutes later he returns with a pint of ice cream, two spoons and two gatorades.

“What did I do to deserve you?” You say softly, feeling tears spring up in your eyes and immediately start to stream down your cheeks. Pregnancy hormones make you a lot weepier than usual.

"You answered an ad." He teases, setting down the gatorades and reaching up to wipe away your tears. "I knew you were going to want ice cream." He teases, leaning in and kisses your lips softly. He motions to the ice cream. "Go ahead and have your ice cream baby, I'm going to talk to him."

“God, I love you,” you say, ripping the cover of the ice cream and digging in. Watching as he gently rests his head on your tummy and starts to talk to your unborn son. The immediate kicking as soon as he hears his Daddy’s voice makes you both smile. Answering that ad had been the best decision you had ever made, you reach down and caress his face after finishing up the ice cream. “I love you so much. Love our girls. Love our boy. I love you, Dave.”

"Love you too, baby." He promises, kissing your ice cream flavored lips with a smile. "Thank you for our son, thank you for loving me and the girls." There's a ring on your finger, not quite yet a wedding ring since you want to wait until after the baby is born, but the divorce was finalized last month and he can't wait to make you Mrs. Dave York. "Love you so much."

“Me too, baby. I love you.”

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #dave york smut #dave york fanfiction #dave york equalizer 2 #dave york imagine

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surrogate-fawn · 1 year ago

Note

May I... humbly suggest #17 for the ask meme 👀

The Outlaw's Labor (Wild West AU)

Prompt: "I really need to change position"

Characters: Fawn/Newt/Hassan, in a poly marriage. ((Newt & Hassan both belong to @mittysins))

Context: Fawn is the leader of an outlaw gang, and just so happens to be the only woman among them.

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

If there was anything Fawn could appreciate about the desert, it was the transformation it made after dark. The unrelenting sun would shatter into twinkling silver pieces all across the sky, the burning sand would become a cool ocean of silk, and the lonely wind came alive with the sounds of nighttime critters.

Fawn heard the wail of a lone coyote somewhere off in the distance. It was separated from its pack, and that made them kindred spirits. She glanced down the hill at the dying embers of the campfire below her, and at the circle of men sleeping around it. Her own empty bedroll lay open in the formation of snoring bodies, between the two boys she'd taken as her husbands.

A small smile graced her lips as she watched her lovers' slumber from afar. Newt had placed his Stetson over his face while his head rested back on his saddle. Hassan lay curled on his side, his long brown hair pulled into a ponytail and the handle of a shiny revolver nestled in his fist. Fawn wondered how the man could be such a ball of nerves but still sleep so close to a loaded weapon.

Her hands moved to cradle the underside of her greatly swollen belly, its curve hardly contained by the fastenings of her shirt. The denim didn't have much give to it and -- even though it was one of Hassan's shirts -- it just barely fit her gravid bump . . . especially now that labor had dropped it low and heavy on her frame. The only sign of pain throughout Fawn's entire being was the shallow sway of her hips as she felt the next contraction starting.

She'd been "keeping watch" atop that hill for a few hours, laboring quietly to herself while gazing down the length of the canyon. It weren't no secret she was keeping; hell, her boys had known the baby was on its way since that afternoon. She'd mostly kept her discomfort to herself all day, until her husbands had asked what was wrong.

Newt had convinced her to make the gang camp early, to give herself plenty of time off Sidewinder's back before labor got too deep. She was grateful he'd talked some sense into her, because she'd been much deeper in labor when they made camp among the hoodoos than she'd been letting on.

It's not that the labor didn't hurt -- it sure as hell did! -- it just wasn't anything Fawn found herself unable to handle. Her reactions to the intensifying pain were so mild, her gang was under the impression her labor had only recently begun. Why cause a stir by correcting them? What on God's earth were those lawless men supposed to do with that information?

While the men of her gang sat around drinking and playing rounds of cards until sunset, Fawn and her husbands had moved to a more private area of the canyon -- where she could feel free to labor away from gawking eyes. Well, except four of 'em.

For the five hours the gang had lollygagged around camp before nightfall, Hassan and Newt had never left her side -- Hassan, especially. He was the one who had gotten her pregnant, there was no mystery there, and he took that responsibility as seriously has he handled his guns.

Hassan's hands trembled with anxiety every time Fawn furrowed her brow in pain, and he'd startled at every tiny groan she uttered. For such a talented and imposing gunslinger, he could act as frightened as a rabbit in a jackal's den. His fear was evident in the fact he never laid a hand on her -- he'd been hesitant to touch her in any way since he learned about the pregnancy, as if she'd suddenly become made of glass. Instead, he'd stood a few feet away and annoyed her with constant suggestions on how to make her labor "easier" -- all of which were total nonsense. Where he got the idea that drinking water somehow opened the womb, she'd never know.

Newt was a more hands-on in his support, offering his wife reassuring backrubs while she rested between contractions. Naturally, he had more innate sympathy to the kind of pain she was experiencing; but he was a bit over-eager to help ease it. He seemed to be under the impression that digging his hands into her sides somehow eased the pain -- when it, in fact, made it much worse. During a contraction, Fawn had needed to bark at him several times to stop touching her before he finally got the message. After that incident, Fawn just wanted to be left alone.

For all their sweetness, her boys had really started to try her patience by the time the stars came out. She'd managed to convince them to sleep for a while -- assuring them that once her labor "started picking up", she'd wake them.

Yeah . . . she never had any intention of doing that.

She'd brought a child into the world before, her husbands hadn't -- but goddamn, if they didn't act like they knew better than her. As the one most experienced in childbirth out of that whole gang of ruffians, Fawn qualified to be her own doctor. She knew what the subtle cues of her body meant as it slowly worked her new baby out of the womb -- that ancient language of birth between mother and child.

"Oh, you're fixin' to come out before sunrise," Fawn thought, internally speaking to her baby. She rocked her hips a bit wider, a huff of air leaving her nostrils as she felt the harsh pinch of her cervix being pulled further over the mass of her child.

The contraction faded away, and the outlaw leader rested her back against a rough pillar of stone -- one of hundreds surrounding their campsite. Auburn ringlets of her hair had escaped the pinned updo she tamed her curls in, falling loose throughout the day's sweat and toil; but now, even in the chill of the night, they clung to the back of her neck.

"Actually," Fawn thought, "you might be comin' a lot sooner than that."

Ever since that morning a pressure had been rolling into her hips like a thunderstorm on the horizon, getting louder and deeper every hour. Now, it was barreling over her.

Another contraction started less than a minute after the last one. Fawn pressed her lips together and furrowed her brow, her hands continuing to support the weight of her low-hanging belly. She felt the heft of her child moving down. With her own hands, she felt the rough outline of its shoulder resting just above the bony squeeze of her pelvis.

"Mmm-hmm, you're comin' a lot sooner than that."

Fawn shuffled around the edge of the rocky pillar, hiding herself from the view of camp behind an outcrop at its base. Her hands moved from her underbelly to her belt buckle as she doubled over with a breathy groan -- the contraction reaching its peak of intensity and refusing to let up. She shimmied her trousers and undergarments down to her knees and held herself in a supported crouch against the jagged rock, her hands splayed out to either side of her.

Lightning flashed behind her eyelids as they closed tight. The pressure was thundering and insistent, pounding on her bones with every heartbeat. Then, the storm inside her finally broke.

Fawn let out a soft sigh of relief when she felt her bag of waters rupture. The immense pressure lessened in an instant as a gout of hot fluid hit the cool sand with a dull splash. Fawn let her head lull back, thankful to the Lord above that she'd thought to remove her trousers before it happened; they were her only pair.

She had no hope of getting her boots and pants off in her condition -- her boys had needed to help her with that for weeks -- so why fret over it? Besides, this would make it easier for her to hike her clothes back up and head into camp once she was done. There was no reason to be indecent around her men . . . her authority was threatened enough as it was by her pregnancy.

To outside eyes, she looked every bit a woman in a desperate plight: outlawed to the wastelands, a price on her head, laboring with no assistance, and preparing to give birth with her most of her clothes still on; but Fawn was the picture of serenity.

"Alright, rugrat, your cushion's gone. Can't be very comfy in there now," Fawn thought with a flood of anticipation. "Are 'ya ready to come out now?"

She gave a few experimental pushes as she felt the next contraction ramping up. With the third timid push, she felt the cold night air enter her canal as her body started to flower open.

"Ooh, yeah," Fawn thought, adjusting her stance to be wider, "you're ready."

When the contraction reached its peak, Fawn pressed her boot heels into the soil and bore down with all her might. She held her breath until she was lightheaded, stopped to exhale, inhaled, and pushed again. Her nails dragged against the rock as her fingers spiked to find better purchase.

Fawn was able to wring about three good pushes from each contraction, but she lost count of how many she endured -- they were starting to bleed into each other. Excess fluid dripped from her folds as she silently worked her baby down. One long, deep push had her skin bulging out obscenely, the head finally slipping down to fill up her canal.

Pressing her back harder against the pillar, Fawn lowered herself into more of a squat, allowing her to bring her hands around. She swiped away the pebbles digging into her palms and put both hands between her legs to explore her progress.

She didn't need a doctor to tell her what was going on, Fawn could feel it all for herself. Her vulva was hot to the touch and firm as a stone wrapped in skin -- everything flushed with blood and straining with the pressure that would soon force it to open.

The pad of her left middle finger accidentally dipped into her enflamed opening, and Fawn let out an involuntary gasp as she felt a bit of damp hair sitting just inside her stretched perineum.

"Oh! Hey'ya, rugrat," she said inside her head. A small chuckle left her dry throat. "I wasn't expectin' 'ya to be there, yet."

Unbidden tears pooled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. It didn't matter if she was in the middle of the desert without a bed or a home to call her own, she felt much more at ease giving birth here than she had her first go-around:

Long before her days as "Fawn", she'd married young -- far, far too young in hindsight -- to a much older man. Her beautiful little Mercy had been born when Fawn herself was still little more than a child, and it had been an agonizing ordeal. Her daughter was yanked into the world with forceps by a doctor who was far too rough. The tongs had left indents on her baby's soft skull for days, and they'd left bruises in their wake. All that pain, all that trauma for them both . . . only for whooping cough to steal her daughter from her arms within the year.

Fawn tilted her head to gaze up at the milky way, and wondered if Mercy was anywhere among those flecks of light. Just to be safe, she blew a kiss to the sky. Then, she readied herself to deliver her second-born.

She reached into the back pocket of her trousers, pulling out the flask she'd snuck out of camp with her. Fawn twisted off the cap with her teeth and drenched her hands in the whiskey. A subdued grunt was the only sound she made as she threw her hands between her legs and dove into another push.

The top of her baby's head began to appear. Fawn's fingerpad traced its shape as it forced her opening to stretch, until that little patch of hair was the rough shape of a teardrop. Fawn pressed her hands to either side of her labia, cradling the bulging near-crown. As she pushed, she held the skin open in preparation of what was to come. It wasn't long until a sharper grunt left her strained throat -- the baby's head stretching her in earnest with her most recent push.

Fawn tried to relax her body as the stinging burn of crowning began, but her thighs and back were aching from holding a squat for so long. She turned her eyes back to the stars as a focal point, admiring their heavenly glow while she bore down on her baby.

Her fingertips lightly pressed on each side of the slimy, squishy bubble of hair as it opened into a proper crown. Long, deep breaths were the closest thing to a scream Fawn allowed herself as the ring of fire branded her between the legs.

Wider, wider, wider, she opened. With each push her fingertips were pulled further apart. God, how much of a head did this child have?! She should've expected the child to be large, Hassan was a biblical giant of a man. She tried opening her legs to make room, but her trousers acted as shackles, only allowing her knees to move about a foot apart.

Fawn threw her head back, teeth clenched and eyes shut tight against the pain she was feeling in every inch of her body now. She tried standing up straighter, but her legs refused to close. Fawn blew out a loud breath from pursed lips as she gave into another desperate effort. She continued to prod at the reddened, stretched skin around the emerging head, hoping to peel as much of it back as possible to move things along.

When she felt a large, trembling hand touch her knee, she didn't need to open her eyes to see who it was that had found her. It was Hassan. She knew his touch very well . . . the evidence of that was currently being born. She'd missed it.

But if Hassan had managed to find her out there in the dark, then where was...?

"We're here, darlin'," a soft voice came from the other side of her. A smaller hand touched her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Ah, there was Newt.

Fawn blinked her eyes open. Once her vision adjusted, the light from the stars and half-moon were enough to see by. She saw the worried creases on the faces of her boys as they knelt in front of her.

"Evenin', fellas," Fawn croaked out. It was the first sentence she'd said aloud in hours, and her voice was parched as her tongue. "You're just in time. The 'lil anklebiter's makin' an appearance."

The boys glanced at each other and almost in unison craned their necks to see between her legs.

Newt's face twisted in an odd mix of shock and awe. "Lord Almighty . . ." he murmured.

Hassan's tanned face went so pale he reflected the moonlight like a mirror.

Fawn whined, bucking her hips as she felt another contraction rearing its ugly head. "Boys, I really need to change position," she said, her tone amazingly subdued for the situation. "I can't . . . can't open my hips enough. Get my trousers off."

The boys leapt into action. Hassan removed her boots with practiced ease and both helped pull her bunched-up trousers the rest of the way down her legs. Freed from her cloth prison, Fawn sank the rest of the way to the ground, her legs falling wide open and bracing on each side of the rocky outcrop.

"God, that's better," Fawn sighed, finally feeling some of her muscles relax.

When their crowning child was fully revealed to them, Hassan put his hand over his mouth and his shoulder slumped against the rock.

"Don't you dare go dark on me, Has," Fawn scolded, her words pinched and breathless as she pushed into her hands. She paused to take in a huge gasp of air. "This is your doin', remember?"

It was as if the baby had been waiting on its fathers to be there, as suddenly every push Fawn gave sent the head surging forward. Even when the pain was at its worst, Fawn never lost her composure. She panted, she hissed, and she gave the occasional quiet groan; but otherwise, she voiced no complaints.

Her boys were still and silent, perhaps too unsure what to do to offer any more unsolicited advice -- thank God. At least they could see for themselves she knew what she was doing.

With the chirping crickets and hooting owls as her background music, Fawn managed to slide the head of her child free in just four more good shoves after changing position.

"Do . . . you need anything?" Hassan timidly asked.

"I just need y'all to be quiet."

It wasn't an insult. With a large head hanging out of her and shoulders already pressing their way through her pelvis, any sound louder than a whisper was making her nauseous.

Fawn breathed deep, her thumb lovingly stroking the cheek of her baby while she waited for their body to turn. She felt their face twitch under her fingers, their mouth opening in a cry that had no breath behind it yet.

"I know, rugrat. I know it's uncomfortable, I'm sorry," she thought, her breath coming in harsh huffs through her nose. "Mama's got 'ya, though. She's got 'ya and your daddies are both here waitin'. It'll be okay, sweetie."

With her next contraction, Fawn made it her mission to push until her baby was out; and, by God, birth that child she did -- feet pressing against rock, hips angled towards the sky, and with both fathers watching on in stunned and obedient silence. The shoulders pressed through one right after the other, and all Fawn had to do was give a gentle tug under the chubby arms once they came free.

The sand under her became drenched as the hips of the baby slipped free of her own. Fawn held the scrunched newborn up in front of her for a few seconds, giving it a quick once-over with her eyes. From what she could tell, he was perfect!

"Well, ain't you a handsome one?" she crooned, laying her son over her stomach. He squirmed face-down on the worn denim of her shirt, whimpering quietly. "Come on, you can do better than that," Fawn encouraged, giving his shoulders a rub.

The newborn must've been exhausted from the hours-long squeeze. He could still only muster enough life to whimper, until his mother gave him a flurry of harsh pats to the butt. Then, he finally cried.

With his very first breath, that little boy proved he had his mother's authority in his blood. Because forty feet downhill, the entire gang was woken to the sound of his cries.

It didn't matter if they'd been sound asleep, they were all going to know his Mama had a new reason to kick their asses.

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

((I'd love to receive more prompts for this AU! I'd love to get one that would allow me to continue with the family fluff after this birth scene. I would've added it to this drabble, but I didn't want to get too far away from the prompt/))

Hope you enjoyed!

#birth kink #fawn drabbles #mittysins #poly relationship #borrowed ocs #labor kink #Fawn/Newt/Hassan #Wild West AU #fpreg labor and birth #fpreg

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