#I. might write a fic of this. we’ll see

[pedgito]

𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 | Cowboy!Joel Miller x reader

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summary | Through all of his supposed wrong-doing, Joel has never failed you. Alternatively, falling in love with your dad's enemy while he shows you your full potential.

author's note | this is for @kedsandtubesocks's wild ride writing challenge! i struggled with this for a while, but ultimately erika and @hauntedhowlett helped me settle on something after sitting on the struggle bus for longer than i liked. this is all unbeta'd so please go easy on me dsjhkg

content warning | 18+ MDNI, no outbreak au, rodeo cowboy!joel, dbf but they're rivals now, forbidden love, hefty age gap (early 20s, late 40s), daddy issues, switches between present/flashbacks (all titled to differentiate), joel strolling around shirtless in a cowboy hat, mentions of injuries from riding, angst/internal conflict, fluff, smut (inappropriate use of a barstool), joel's such a loverboy

word count — 7.5k

Austin, Texas — Present Day: 

The energy in the stadium is inconceivable.

Austin always had amazing crowds during rodeo season, especially with such a close-knit community of people supporting a passion many have attempted to pursue. For you, it was in your blood, riding on the coattails of your father, you were saddled on a horse before you could even speak full sentences.

You can hear the deep, roaring chants as you stand steadily in the waiting pen, eyes locked on the television as the words echo in your ear, a faint smile growing on your face as you feel the solid press of his hand against your back.

 Joel.

It was a year of tireless dedication to get you back on a horse, somehow managing to entangle yourself in his grasp in more ways than you can explain—he wasn’t just a partner, he was your lover, a confidant, and the only person that could ease the quickly growing nerves.

“Like ridin’ a bike,” He says with an ease that comes natural to his voice, hand climbing up to settle against the back of your neck with a reassuring squeeze, “what’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

“What if she gets startled?” You ask absently, the accident flashing through your mind in snapshots, the subtle twinge of pain in your knee that came and went when it felt like it.

“All she needs is you,” Joel reminds you, “s’never been a time I’ve seen her freak out when she’s got you on her back and you know it.”

Honey had been with you since you were a young girl, a trust built through years of connection and care, having practiced the art of non-verbal communication, you knew there was nothing to worry about, but the fear still lingered.

Joel’s Ranch, One Year Ago — Flashback:

Joel can see the way your hands shake, attempting to grasp the reins a few times with a clammy grip, over-adjusting yourself on the horse he’s ridden for many years, even into retirement. Buttercup was docile but strong and he’s attentive to Joel’s instruction, a rub over his snout as he attempted to reassure you.

It was your first time back on a horse since your accident, months of recuperating on Joel’s ranch with the help of him and his brother Tommy, working through doctor’s visits and physical therapy alongside two men who weren’t your father, but had filled the hole enough that you didn’t have to suffer through your injury alone.

“We’re just doing a few laps and getting a feel on things,” Joel reminds you, “I’m not pushin’ you and I’m not gonna let you push it too soon—what’s your number today?”

You bend and stretch your leg hesitantly, a subtle movement as Joel’s hand rests just above the thick band of your jeans, your face contorting in slight discomfort.

“Five…six,” You say indecisively, looking down at Joel.

“So, an eight,” He surmises with a smile, “alright—just a few laps and we’ll work from there.”

It was a step forward, fearful that you might never ride again. 

But, Joel follows you around the ring from start to finish.

He promised in the beginning that he wouldn’t leave your side and he hasn’t lied once.

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

While dressage started their run, you and Joel slipped off into a dressing room to watch the show and deal with the insistence from Joel that you shouldn’t ride on an empty stomach.

You picked at the food sparingly though, still feeling rattled by the energy in the arena.

Joel’s presence comes from behind, palms spread over the arms of your chair as he leans his chest into your back, lips brushing against your ear in an endearing manner, a ghost of his breath against the side of your face as he presses a gentle kiss against your neck.

"Hey," he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "You're going to be amazing out there, baby. I believe in you."

You lean back into his warmth, letting out a shaky breath. His arms encircle you, strong and comforting. "I'm just so nervous," you whisper.

Joel turns your face with his fingers at your chin. His eyes, filled with tenderness, meet yours. 

"Remember why you started riding in the first place? That freedom? The connection?"

You nod and his hand flattens against the side of your neck and you tilt your chin up expectantly, eager for a kiss that never comes, instead he chuckles and placates you with another kiss to your cheek.

“No distractions,” He chastises, “I meant that.”

You pout for a brief moment but relent, knowing that you needed a clear head and Joel would give you anything but with how easily he’s clouded your thoughts in the past several months.

Joel’s Ranch, Six Months Ago — Flashback:

When it happens, you aren’t expecting it.

Neither is Joel, which makes the entire situation unfold faster than you’re capable of processing.

The storm rolled in without warning, the wind picking up like someone had flipped a switch. 

But, the lighting strikes unexpectedly from the right and downfield with not a drop of rain in sight.

It startles everyone, but especially Buttercup, Joel’s horse. It was quick buck, with Joel’s hands on your waist luckily, so the decent is smooth but the impact isn’t as graceful as you would have liked while Joel’s horses thrashes wildly until he can calm him down, moving you a safe distance away before he can eventually get Buttercup tucked away in the stables and return to you, jogging toward you as the rain began to mist.

As Joel approaches, his eyes lock with yours, concern etched across his features. 

The misting rain clings to his cheeks, making them glisten in the fading light. He reaches out, his calloused hands gently cupping your face. Thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with worry.

You nod, unable to speak as you realize how close he is. 

It’s never been like this, even in the moments of physical therapy and joint dinners with him and his brother—Joel had always been careful about being respectful and keeping his distance.

Joel was prominent in your childhood, weekend dinners with him and his daughters after the death of your mother—it was all a blur now, most of it buried away and forgotten. But, there was an eventual blow-up with your father and then he was gone. 

You’d see him on television and around town when shows were happening and he had a break from his extensive tour through different states, having turned his professional career into entertainment both out of a need for change and necessity.

He constantly remained out of reach, but with your injury and his willingness to yield to you when you needed someone in your life the most, he had stepped in. It made you feel like that little girl again, scraping your knee on the ground and crying for help, but instead of your dad it was Joel and the floating feeling in your stomach wasn’t because he was comforting you, but because he was touching you and neither of you had the courage to speak on it.

He’s never touched you like this. He wouldn’t. 

Joel’s always been careful—too careful.

"I'm fine," you assure him, but your voice trembles slightly. Joel kneels closer, his warmth enveloping you despite the cool rain. His hands find your shoulders, steadying you, “Joel—I swear, I’m okay.”

“M’so sorry, sweetheart,” He apologises despite no wrongdoing, “I should’ve checked the weather or at least held on a little tighter,”

You look up into his eyes, seeing the genuine worry there, and something else – something that makes your heart flutter in your chest. "It's not your fault," You insist, blinking away the rain from your lashes before Joel is helping you to your feet, his touch never once leaving your body.

The rain is falling harder now, but neither of you can find the urgency to move.

Joel's hands slide down your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your breath catches in your throat, coming out in a desperate attempt to clear the swell as you make a small, weak noise that seems to break him from his trance.

“Let’s get you dry,” He nods toward the house, grateful for the deflection as you turn, but his hand is still pressed firmly against your back as you both walk toward the door, like he’s too scared to let go - like you were too fragile to leave on your own.

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

Honey nuzzles into your chest before nibbling at the apple in your palm, always rigid about the time you spent with her before your shows, a moment of quiet and connection that strengthens the bond.

She was full of personality, leaning into the gentle touch you apply to her snout as you rub your hand up and into her mane, a small push into your ribs as she hears Joel approach.

Your heart swells with affection as you lean into Honey's warmth, savoring the sweet moment. 

Joel's footsteps draw near, but you're reluctant to break the spell. 

You press a soft kiss to Honey's velvety nose, whispering words of love and gratitude. As Joel appears, his eyes meet yours and a tender smile spreads across his face. He understands the depth of your connection with Honey, having witnessed your bond grow over countless shows and quiet moments like this. Even when you were much younger and Honey was twice the size she is now.

Your father had purchased her when Joel was meeting Buttercup, how the girls had hounded him over the responsibility to name his horse. He wouldn’t admit how much he liked it, either.

"You two are inseparable," he murmurs, stepping closer. His hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers as you both stroke Honey's mane, "I swear, sometimes I think you love that horse more than me."

You laugh, giving your horse one last pat before turning to Joel. "Are you jealous?" 

Your head tilts, eyes as wide and vulnerable as they always were with him.

“Not when you look at me like that,” Joel explains, his hand cupping your chin as his thumb rubs against the point of it, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards as Joel mirrors that same admiration, a playful glint in his eyes as you pucker your lips and kiss his thumb, keeping your eyes on him, “boy, you are really pushin’ it today.”

It was silly to think about now, but a few months prior Joel wouldn’t even allow himself to touch you like this, despite the clear indication of how you felt and how he had ultimately fallen first, too scared to admit that he’d fallen for his old friend’s daughter, knowing your father despised everything that Joel was, it was a maze he didn’t know how to navigate.

He still felt lost on most days.

Joel’s Ranch, Five Months Ago — Flashback:

Mornings were sacred on Joel’s ranch - a beautiful sunrise etched out over the hills and through the trees, animals rousing from their sleep, and a silence that reminded you of a simpler time.

Usually you found Joel up this early, nursing a mug of coffee in his hands as rocked in the old chair on his porch, eventually finding the courage to join him after a while, when it didn’t hurt to bend down to his level, taking a seat on the deck near his legs and sipping at your own drink of choice, talking through your pain level on whatever particular day it was.

Your fondness has grown over shared meals and proximity; seclusion, too.

It was you and him, months alone aside from Tommy’s occasional visit.

Maybe it was inevitable—that your injury served a purpose.

You always tried to find a reason to excuse your own mistake, a moment of hesitation that cost you an entire year of your newfound career, excitedly filling in for Joel in his departure. 

It couldn’t have been for nothing.

You felt her heart skip a beat as his footsteps approached, his gaze warm as it descended upon you, peering over your shoulder to be met with a tired smile.

The morning sunlight caught the silver in his hair, and you found herself admiring the lines around his eyes - evidence of a life filled with both laughter and hardship.

"Good mornin’," Joel's voice was a low rumble, softened by the early hour, “something botherin’ you?”

“Why do you ask?” You chirp with a soft laugh, narrowing your gaze in a manner to intimidate. 

Joel smirks half-heartedly, “It’s a good place to think,” He notes, “so—what is it?”

“Can I ask about my dad?” You start hesitantly, not sure how sore of a subject it was for him.

“Whaddya wanna know, sugar?”

“I want your side,” You wanted honesty, not half-truths, “did you cut him out of the deal?”

“He cut himself out,” Joel explains without skipping a beat, “we were partners for a long time, couldn’t have imagined doin’ all I did without him before he turned on me, but it was good money, security—it put Ellie and Sarah through college.

“He’s a sell-out,” If there was any time for your father to disparage Joel Miller, he would, “runnin’ off to Florida and taking some big deal, that shit ain’t right—it’s selfish.”

Joel had never meant to turn his career into entertainment, competing in circuits at a professional level before his body started to take a toll, eventually earning the Old Timer moniker and booking shows around the surrounding cities of Texas before touring the country.

If you were involved in rodeo, or even caught a whiff of it in the media, you knew who the Old Timer was. And even with him gone, you can feel your father looming.

The echoing mantra of his words in your head as you remember watching Joel perform with Buttercup, a long-established Bronc with his own exuberant personality to match Joel’s more subdued one, a perfect balance. 

Ain’t nothing out there you won’t experience here in Austin. 

You weren’t sure where the animosity stemmed from until now—it was a clear path he had pictured for himself and you, riding out the rest of your career in Texas, even as you were starting to climb the ladder as one of the more notorious female riders, still just a whisper for most people, living in the shadow of your father for so long.

“He’s stuck in his ways and that’s not sayin’ I’m any different, but I don’t regret signing that deal for a better way of livin’—a easier way, it got me all of this,” He throws his arms out lazily, property that stretched for miles, a place where he’s come to offer a camp for young riders to learn the ropes and get comfortable around the animals in a safe environment.

But, it was also home.

It was a surprise waking up one morning to a yard full of kids, a handful no older than ten or eleven, showing how easily Joel molded into the teaching role in such a relaxed environment.

You weren’t sure if that was when your feelings for him had evolved or if it was during the early weeks of being injured when Joel would sit with you bedside almost every night, either reading or working on his crosswords like it was religion, glasses perched on his nose as he moved with every subtle twitch you would make, worry etched on his face.

It was a mix of both and more, countless times you’ve found yourself at a loss for words.

“If he knew,” You pause, chewing at your bottom lip with worry, “if he knew—that I was here, that I turned down his help to come to you, Joel, I don’t know how he would react,”

“There ain’t a single reason he needs to know,” Joel assures you, “I’m sure he’s said a lot about me and some of it is probably true, but you deserve a place you feel safe.”

You nod, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. 

Joel's words sink in, and you realize just how much you needed to hear them. The weight of your father's expectations, his dreams for your future, had been suffocating you for far too long.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the soft whinnying of horses in the nearby stables, and your words linger, like you’re holding back, “I do—I do feel safe…”

Joel hums, turning his body toward you more, his elbow meeting the railing of the ring.

“But?”

“You have to know,” You begin, heart constricting with nerves, a surge of adrenaline rushing through your veins as Joel looks at you, all of you, that familiar full body glance that you’re not even sure he realizes he’s doing, “it’s more than just safety, Joel.”

"I reckon I do know," he says, his voice low and gravelly, still thick from sleep. "Been knowin' for a while now."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning and possibility. Uncertainty.

“I feel stupid,” You laugh away the sudden embarrassment, face heating as the silence grows, “fuck I’m—I’m only a couple years older than the girls and you were helping me with my math homework while trying to teach them how to tie their shoes. It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“Seems to me like you’re an adult capable of making her own choices,” Joel decides.

You feel a flutter in your chest at Joel's words, at the implicit acceptance in them. 

Your eyes meet his, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but you find only warmth and a hint of something deeper, enticingly haunting.

"I've been making my own choices for a while now," you say softly, not realizing the instinctual gravitation toward him until his chest is pressing into your shoulder. "Some good, some...not so good. But, coming here? It was the first choice I’ve made for myself that felt right."

“It always needs to feel like that, sweetheart.”

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

Joel tightens the belt at your waist, the leather stiff from lack of wear. You’ve only worn the uniform a few times for fittings, a brightly colored shirt and riding pants to match, which were still hung on the rack behind Joel. 

He takes a moment to tug at the leather to assure it was secure before he drops down to his knees, catching you by surprise with a bubble of laughter slipping past your lips.

“Joel, what are you doing?”

He shrugs, pressing featherlight kisses along the top of your thigh while his hand drags along the back, hooking behind your right leg as he brings your knee to his mouth, his lips pressing over the jagged but healed scar.

You find yourself overcome with unexpected emotion, throat burning with the threat of impending tears, the moment holding still as Joel looks up at you.

Joel’s Ranch, Four Months Ago — Flashback:

It was intended to be a simple task, filling the troughs with water as you both lugged the buckets to each individual pen, narrowly escaping Joel’s increasingly boyish behavior as he fills the trough up halfway before he’s tossing the rest of the water at you, gasping at the cold, frigid temperature of it.

“You ain’t smiled today,” Joel reminds you, suddenly sheepish as you realize how big the grin on your face has grown, wasting the rest of the water to return the wet favor, tossing the bucket on the floor before you decide to make a run for the house nearly at the door before you slip on a slick spot of mud.

Squealing, your arms flail out—you accept your fate, arms bracing behind you as you wait for the impact, but instead you’re caught by two thick arms wrapping under and around you and your breath catches as you find yourself pressed against Joel's broad chest, his strong arms holding you securely.

Your heart races with an anxious stir of emotions, interlaced with excitement, suddenly very aware of how close your bodies are. Joel aids you back to your feet, shoving him away playfully as you snake your way out of his arms, trying your hardest to seem upset even though you weren’t.

“Careful,” Joel warns, “can’t have you injuring yourself any worse, you’ll be takin’ up a permanent residence here.

“Would it be so bad?” You ask curiously, a hint of teasing to your tone, “I think you like the idea of keeping me here, all to yourself.”

His eyes echo his earlier words. Careful.

The restraint he shows day by day amazes himself with how hard you’ve tried to break him down, some guilt surrounding his own growing feelings, ashamed with how strong they’ve become.

“Where’s your manners, anyways?” You ask, “You get a girl all wet and you can’t even invite her to dinner or kiss her first? And I thought you were a gentleman.”

Joel wasn’t intimidated by much in his life, but the way you see straight through him with ease—he’s helpless under your gaze, the grin on your face that follows is tortuous to his psyche.

“Oh, don’t hurt yourself, Joel,” You tease, poking at the damp fabric stuck to his chest, his eyes following the movement as you pull away and turn toward the house, “I’m just fucking with you.”

Joel snaps then, pulling at your wrist with a gentle tug, “Now, you ain’t gotta be so crude all the time, mouth like that’ll get you in trouble,”

Like this?

Joel sees the smug expression as it sneaks onto your features, his grip climbing higher until you’re at the lip of his front door and he’s got you crowded, pressing into the flimsy screen as he noses at your cheek like a wolf sniffing out prey, violently aware of how your hand squeezes into his wet shirt and pulls him closer.

“Just kiss me,” You plead, “fuck—please. Just do it.”

It was a craving so unnatural you ache, in your gut and chest, lips parting as your chin lifts in an effort to chase his hesitance. You’ve both been dancing around this for weeks.

Joel's resolve crumbles, his self-control shattering like glass.

With a low growl, he captures your lips in a hurried kiss, weeks of pent-up desire pouring out in a single, passionate moment. His calloused hands frame your face, holding you steady as he deepens the kiss, tongue seeking entrance between your lips.

And you melt instantly, fingers curling tighter into his shirt. It was everything you needed.

Rough but tender, his soft lips against your own with the satisfying scratch of his overgrown beard that tickled your cheeks and nose, hiccuping a breath into the kiss as he tilts your head up to meet his hungry mouth, each press more insatiable than the last. 

When you finally part, both panting for air, Joel rests his forehead against your own and allows his eyes to fall shut for a moment as you giggle, shaking slightly in his hold.

“Now, was that so hard?”

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

He’s got you imprisoned this way—body and soul, your hand shifting to rest at the crown of his head, curling into his hair, another gentle kiss before he’s leaning his cheek against the inside of your thigh and offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“You plan on stayin’ down there, cowboy?”

Joel chuckles, shifting to hide his face into your thigh.

It’s a gentle tickle, his mouth against your skin, but it brings you immense comfort.

“We’ve got fifteen minutes,” You remind him, eyeing the clock overhead, “I think we can manage.”

He shakes his head with relaxed defiance, groaning quietly as he pushes to his feet again.

“Right—right, later. No distractions,” You repeat his earlier words, followed by a playful roll of your eyes, “You’re not making it easy, you know?”

Joel’s Ranch, Four Months Ago — Flashback:

Joel’s got you on a strict schedule lately once you’re cleared for training—breakfast, a workout, practice, lunch, repeat, only a few months out until your inevitable return and he’s hammering the routine into your brain, which you appreciate, but a break would be nice.

The run-through was flawless this evening and you retired earlier, savoring the burning heat of water as it melted over your skin, dressed in a loose shirt and panties as you searched through your messy suitcase of clothes and the pile that has grown over time with your extensive stay, down on your knees.

It wasn’t always this easy, depending on Joel for nearly everything in the beginning of your stay.

He was showering in his room simultaneously, or so you thought.

Joel spotted your hat about halfway through the living room, resting on a post outside.

His chest is still wet, jeans unbuttoned but snug on his hips as he strolled barefoot outside and retrieved the item, knowing that you hardly parted with it, it was a strange sight.

You pause in your rummaging, sensing a presence behind you moments later.

Turning, your breath catches at the sight of Joel standing in your doorway, hat balanced on his head as he leaned against the frame and smiled, the muscles in his arms conforming to the stretch and pull as he crossed them, tanned skin glistening with the few droplets of water still lingering.

“Found your hat,” Well, one could only suspect.

You stand slowly, acutely aware of how little you're wearing. "Thanks," you murmur as you make your way toward him, reaching for the hat. Your fingers brush as he hands it over, his own molding around the crown of the hat, bottom side up.

Joel doesn’t let go immediately like you’re anticipating, “I think you deserve a weekend off,”

“No,” You argue instantly, “I’m finally getting comfortable with the routine, I don’t need a day off.”

Joel’s face scrunches up in with a lack of belief in you words, tilting his head with narrowing gaze, “Now, that’s something only a person who needs a day off would say,”

“Joel, no,” You put your foot down, finally prying his fingers away from the hat, seeking a few inches of space from his bare chest and the unbearable heat that radiates from his frame.

While your admission of feelings had led him to be less reserved with the way he approached your or talked, more touchy during practice and at night while you both cuddled up on the couch and watched some old western you could care less about—Joel really loved them, though, so that had to count for something.

He makes you nervous, anticipatory of his next move, waiting for him to put your misery and break the metaphorical seal over your relationship—if you could even call it that, but it never happened. It would have to be you, a choice you made entirely on your own.

Your heart races as you take a step back, clutching the hat to your chest like a shield.

Joel's eyes follow your movement, a flicker of something indecipherable crossing his face before he schools his expression back to that easy, warm smile. It’s subtle, but there.

"I get it," Joel levels, "You're afraid of losing momentum.”

You shrug, unsure if that was fully true.

“C’mon,” Joel beckons, uncrossing his arms to offer his hand, your eyes following it with hesitance.

Joel chuckles to himself and pulls the hat from your grip before placing it on your head, fingers circling your wrist before they trail toward your hand and lead you toward the kitchen, through his expansive living room until he’s guiding you toward one of the few barstool, silently ordering you to sit down.

Almost immediately, he squats behind the island to rummage through the liquor collection he kept stored away for the occasional celebration or nightcap, avoiding it mostly out of preference while you trained, but he’s sliding a glass of whiskey over before you can fully piece together what he’s doing, rounding the counter with his own glass in hand.

“Happy early birthday to me, I guess,” You joke before taking a small sip of the whiskey, knowing your 22nd birthday was on the horizon but enjoying the reaction as Joel’s face contorts through phases—first confusion, then fear, before he’s attempting to pull the glass from your grip as he realizes his mistake

You giggle and stretch the glass out of reach, “Oh, calm down—I’m old enough to drink, Joel. Old age is really getting to you, isn’t it? I didn’t celebrate last year because I was so focused on the show, but we all know how that turned out,”

“You’re tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?” Joel asks, downing the rest of the liquid in one go.

He’s drifted closer now, palm pressed into the counter beside your arm, his free hand rising up to tip the brim of your hat up, your bottom lip pulling between your teeth with an impish gaze.

“I’m just so young and impressionable,” You feign innocence, “I blame you.”

Joel's eyes darken, a mix of amusement and something more intense swirling in the depths of brown. Holding his eyes, you slide the glass against the counter and reach for your hat before placing it back on his head, a little on the snug side but still wearable.

“Kinda like it on you better,” You decide, adjusting the brim before your fingers trail toward his shoulders and settle there, feeling the muscle underneath twitch as he laughs, though you find yourself deadly serious and sincere, no longer meeting his eyes as yours trail toward the patch of hair at the center of his chest and down, a solid wall of muscle follow—Joel wasn’t defined, but he was large, intimidatingly so. When he wasn’t riding, he was building, working with his hands, lifting and moving things around the ranch, it was mouthwatering to watch.

“Eyes up, sugar,” He warns, not realizing how dangerously low your hands had trailed before your fingers were folding over the open seam of his jeans and how blatantly obvious it was that Joel wasn’t wearing anything underneath and how his cock had swelled slightly with your proximity and innocent touches.

You feel a rush of excitement as your fingers brush against the warm skin just beneath the waistband of his jeans. Joel's breath hitches, his hand moving to grip your wrist firmly.

“But, you’re—”

Joel shakes his head dismissively, “Can’t help that part—bein’ around you ain’t easy lately.”

In any other circumstance you would take those words harshly, but you can see the pain on his face, the self-restraint he’s holding himself to.

“I can—we can,” You offer, legs spreading on their own as you turn toward him, fitting him between your thighs as you lean into him, “I mean—it isn’t like you’ll be stealing my virtue. I’m not that innocent, Joel.”

Joel's grip on your wrist tightens, his jaw clenching as he struggles to maintain control. 

You can see the conflict in his eyes—desire warring with his sense of propriety.

Impatient, you surge upwards, pressing your lips against his with a hunger he hasn’t seen from you before, taking advantage of his parted mouth and dragging your tongue across his top lip, feeling the restrain in the way he kisses you back subdued with his hesitant touch.

“Think about—what you’re—askin’ for,” Joel interrupts through hurried kisses, his hand curling around the side of your neck to push you back, “What this’ll mean for you.”

“I think you should fuck me,” You respond crudely, “besides—you kissed me first.”

His resolve wavers, and you seize the opportunity. 

Your free hand slides up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. Joel's eyes flutter closed for a moment, a soft groan escaping his lips at the indecent sight of you looking up at him, lips parted on a breath and eyes wide with desire.

Joel never made great choices, only what felt right in the moment.

And somehow, it has led him here.

“We shouldn’t,” He says softly, “s’just another distraction.”

“My mind has never been more clear, Joel,” You argue.

Joel’s resistance is weakening quickly and with a low growl, he’s capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his hand leaving your wrist to grip your hip with a natural possessiveness, the same touch he lends while you’re riding, not an entirely different circumstance, but the intention is loud. You moan into his mouth, arching against him as his fingers dig into your flesh.

“Slow down, cowboy,��� You tease, flicking at the hat, your laugh breaking through the tension as Joel parts for a brief second, watching your fingers fold around the hem of your shirt, “help me?”

It’s devious, you know, he knows it. 

But, he listens.

The moment your shirt is thrown to the floor, Joel’s jaw slackens.

Instinctually, his thumb drifts over your nipples, circling the areola before he’s using the full expanse of his grip to cup your breasts, maneuvering the barstool until you’re leaning against the marble top, his lips latching onto your skin, tongue alternate as they circle the sensitive buds.

He’ll repent later, much later.

A gasp escapes you when he grazes his teeth against your nipple, sending a spark of pleasure through your body.

"Joel," you breathe, arching into his touch. He hums against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. He knew exactly what he was doing, hesitance out the window and replaced with newfound confidence.

His hands slide down your sides, rough calluses catching on your soft skin as he explores every inch of you. When his fingers reach the waistband of underwear, he pauses, looking up at you for guidance and surety. 

You nod eagerly, lifting your hips in time with his tug, pulling the damp fabric down your legs and leaving you bare. The cool air hits your heated skin, making you shiver with anticipation. Joel's eyes rake over your naked form, hunger evident in his eyes.

And you learn quickly that his skilled hands and fingers aren’t entirely for show, two fingers to start as they push inside of your cunt, head tilted back into his empty hand as he watches you carefully - the quickened breath as he curls his fingers, eyes fluttering shut when he reaches a sensitive spot deep inside of you, gasping for air while he brushes it once, twice, until you’re nothing but a sobbing mess, crying out his name until you come over his fingers, the butt of his palm pressed against your clit for added measure.

“She loves me, don’t she?” Joel teases, the gall of that man.

You offer a pathetic sound of acknowledgement, Joel's eyes never leaving your face as you come undone, drinking in every gasp and shudder. As your climax subsides, he slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips. His tongue darts out, cleaning up the mess you’ve made, his chest rumbling with a deep groan.

You’ve had enough.

You reach for his jeans, fumbling weakly as you push them down, desperate for as much of him as you could consume—all of him, preferably.

His arousal is evident as you rid him of his jeans, watching as he kicks away the tangled mess to fit himself between your spread legs, his cock bobbing freely against his stomach, thick and heavy against your thigh as you pull him closer. You wrap your hand around his cock, stroking slowly, reveling in the way his breath hitches and his hips buck involuntarily.

"I’m good," You assure him without elaborating, guiding him towards your entrance—you could talk later, too desperate to feel him inside of you.

Joel hesitates for a moment, searching your eyes. Whatever he sees seems to convince him, both of your breaths holding as he presses inside with slow, hesitant thrusts.

The sensation steals your words, knowing just by the sight of him that it would be pushing what you were used to, and no fumbling hands either, sure in every touch he laid upon you.

The way he squeezed at your hip and curled his other hand around the back of your neck, protecting you from the hard edge of the counter before he’s slinging your arms over his neck and nearly knocking the barstool to the floor as he leans into you, his hips picking up in their intensity as he listens to your body and your voice, distant and soft but there, floating in some ethereal plane of pleasure.

Your fingers dig into Joel’s shoulders, moaning at how he fills you in the most satisfying way, amiss to the bite of the counter in your back as the chair creaks and rocks with Joel’s hurried movement, breath hot against your neck where he’s buried himself.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” He sighs, mouthing his way to your ear, hissing at the sting of your grip and with that his thrusts become deeper, more forceful— each one pushing you further over the edge. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting more.

Joel’s lips find yours frantically, in desperation as he groans, a low rumble that seeps into your own mouth, “Gonna gimme one more,” He tells you,

You nod fervently, barely able to form words as Joel's movements grow more insistent.

His hand slips between your bodies, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it with a precision that leaves you breathless. The dual sensations of his thick length filling you and his skilled touch on your clit quickly push you towards the precipice.

“Good, good,” He coos, soothing your weak cries with his mouth as your voice muffles under his guise, kissing you soundly, “go on—let go for me,”

His words push you over the edge and you come undone while Joel follows, burying himself deep inside you with a guttural moan, coming forceful and deep, fucking his spend deeper inside of you as reality resurfaces too soon.

“You alright?” Joel asks almost immediately, slipping out of you with a soft grunt.

The barstool creaks ominously as you adjust yourself and Joel chuckles.

“Probably not the sturdiest spot for that,” He jokes, thankful for the levity as he helps you stand, unsteady on your legs and held up by his firm grip, “I’m blamin’ you for that one.”

The grin it brings out of you is worth the slight discomfort you feel.

You shrug, nonchalant and admit defeat, “Guilty,”

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

He’s not supposed to be here.

There was always a plan, something tucked away in his back pocket.

This time it was the element of surprise and a mix of fear, eyes landing on him for the first time since he rushed onto Joel’s property, half-cocked and throwing out demands where he had no position or right.

He knows what he’s doing, eyes locked with yours from several feet away.

“Guest speaker?” Joel asks, the words biting as they leave his mouth, “Seriously?”

“It’s okay,” It was a mantra to yourself mostly, but Joel hears you, “I know what he’s trying to do—it won’t work.”

“You say the word, I’ll take care of it,” Joel promises.

You smirk slightly, rubbing your hand against his cheek and offering a reassuring squeeze.

“Easy, cowboy,” You offer lightheartedly, “I can handle myself.”

Joel’s Ranch, Two Months Ago — Flashback: 

You knew he’d figure it out eventually.

For a while he believed the lie—that you had been transferred to a beautiful place in Florida that dealt with injury and rehabilitation for your line of work and he accepted that, kept his distance.

He almost followed through on his reconciliation with Joel, that is, until he sees you at his side.

It was such a natural moment for the both of you now, Joel’s arm slung around your waist as he pulled you in, lips pressing against your temple before you both called it for the day, Honey’s head slipping between your hands as she noses at your head, suddenly whining at the shadowed intruder as he grew close.

At the sound of his voice, you fade away. 

You’re still here, standing, but Joel’s protectiveness jumps out instantly.

The words were loud and harsh, but the moment you snap back is as your father’s hand squeezes at your bicep and yanks you forward, immediately met with resistance. 

“I forbid it,” He shouts, “whatever brainwashin’ you’ve done to my kid, it’s over.”

“Forbid it?” You counter, “Do you hear yourself?”

“Always liked makin’ a show of things,” He sounds bitter, he is, “come on, we’re leaving.”

“No,” You tell him, voice unrecognizably strong, “I’m finally doing something for myself.”

Your father's face contorts, a mix of anger and betrayal etched into every wrinkle. He takes a step forward, his voice lowering to a dangerous growl. "For yourself? You think leaving everything behind and letting him influence you is for yourself?"

Joel shifts behind you, a ghosting of his fingers against your back but you don’t waver.

"Yes, for myself," you say, shocked at the steadiness in your voice. “I deserve a chance to figure things out my own way, I don’t have to follow the same path you did.”

Your father scoffs, shaking his head. "Your own way? You don't even know what that means, honey. All we built together, you’re ready to throw that away for him—”

"We?" you interrupt, feeling a surge of frustration. "You built that, Dad. I was a kid, I did what I was told.” It was clear he still saw you as a young girl, his protege, destined to take over after he was gone and carry on the legacy.

The silence that follows is deafening. 

Your father's eyes narrow, searching your face as if seeing you for the first time. You weren’t the same young girl who stared at him wide-eyed, amazed by his ability to wow the crowd and commit to everything he did. The disappointment in his gaze morphs into something else—hurt.

“I’m not gonna sit and wait around if he breaks your heart,” Your father tells you, “let alone how inappropriate it is—you try justifyin’ that to the public. I see what this is and what you did.”

His eyes land on Joel.

Fortunately, he couldn’t be more wrong.

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

The truth was, no one cared.

You and Joel had created an amazing partnership with natural chemistry and it seared the crowds, grabbed their attention, all eyes on you when you finally took your run out in the arena.

It was weeks that had built to this, following through your routine almost masterfully and without missing a beat, ending with a flourish trick as you stood on Honey’s back for the hundredth time it felt like now, not a single waver in your movement and lasso’d the cowboy hat from the middle of the ring and yanked it in, placing it on your head before the crowd erupted in a loud cheer.

It was the feeling you had searched for since you were younger, fulfillment like no other.

Your father’s appearance couldn’t be further from your mind and as you dismounted Honey and took your bow, your eyes searched the side for the one face that mattered most. Joel's proud grin beamed at you from across the arena, his eyes locked on yours. 

In that moment, the roar of the crowd faded away and it was him.

Joel’s Ranch, One Month Ago — Flashback:

You feel guilty for the way your eyes linger on his back as Buttercup trots around the ring, distracted and smiling to yourself as you step onto the railing and lean over with your forearms.

“Focus,” Joel chirps, “c’mon—put on your best voice.”

You clear your throat dramatically and lower your tone a bit, fighting through the giggles.

“You know him, you love him,” You bellow from deep in your chest, “It’s Old Timer!”

Joel chuckles, “That was horrible, baby.”

“So what?” You shrug, “I know him, I love him—point proven.”

It was rare to get a glimpse of Joel like this, back in his element as you watched him run-through your routine without all the flair, offering a slightly different view—though, he knows it won’t help.

You were barely focused on the routine, preoccupied with how easily Joel could capture a room like this, noticing your glossed over gaze as he finishes and hops off his horse, walking over with a knowing smirk.

"You weren't paying attention at all, were you?" Joel teases, his voice low and intimate.

You feel a heat creep up your neck as you meet his gaze.

 "I was... distracted," You admit sheepishly.

His smirk softens into a tender smile. "By what, exactly?"

“Not Joel,” You clarify, grabbing hold of his collar as you pull him close, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, “I like it when you ride, Old Timer.”

“All I gotta do is hop on a horse to make you swoon?” Joel asks, the skin around his eyes crinkling with the emotion as he blushes at the affection.

“Among other things.”

“Done and done, sweetheart.”

-

divider graphics: @saradika-graphics <3

[mingi-s-dimples]

「 Daddy's Summer Fling - J.YH 」

"So soft, baby… wonder if you’d shiver like this if I touched you somewhere else..”

~"Dilf Yunho x Daughter's best friend. She visits her friends place for the summer where her dad will be too. Reader is attracted to him, things ensue, ~ anon

pairing: dilf!yunho x fem student!reader

genre: 18+, filth

summary: your friend has a wonderful idea of asking you to spend the summer at her father’s vacation house... little did you know you'd not only spend the nights there.. but also nights with him.

wc: 9.9k

warnings: dilf!yunho, college student! reader, age gap (about 18 years - 20/38), virgin reader, daddy kink, size kink, praise & slight drgradation, overstimulation, manhandling, voyeurism/exhibitionism (semi-public/public touches), slight corruption kink, slight oral fixation (finger and cock sucking), light breath play (choking), face fucking, cum eating, fingering, dacryphilia, praise kink, cockwarming, breeding kink, marking, backshots, huge cock!yunho, pain kink, possessiveness, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!), completely consensual, for sureeee forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Notes: this was insaneeee to write... sorry anon for taking me so long, I had to write it as well as possible and well- it has almost 10k words. whoops. I hope you enjoy this lil (metaphorically speaking) fic and if you do don't hesitate to dm me or send me an anon ask with your thoughts! ♡

Reminder that reblogs, comments and likes help lots with my engagement and I will forever be grateful for each of you ♡

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

“You should come with me to visit my dad over this summer,” your best friend had suggested one lazy afternoon, sprawled out on your dorm room bed. “He has this amazing summer house by the lake—huge place, so we’ll have all the space we need to chill. Plus, I barely get to see him during the school year, so I try to spend as much time there as I can.”

You had hesitated at first, not because you didn’t want to go, but because it felt… intimate. Staying at her father’s house for an extended period wasn’t like crashing at her dorm or her mom’s place back in the city. It was different. Personal. But when she assured you he wouldn’t mind—that, in fact, he’d be happy to have you over—you agreed.

And now, as you stepped out of your parents’ car, the summer heat blanketing your skin, you were beyond grateful you’d said yes.

The house was beautiful—exactly how she had described it. Rustic yet modern, tucked away in nature with a view of the lake in the distance. But none of that held your attention. No, your focus was entirely on the man standing in the courtyard.

He had his back to you at first, broad and impossibly strong, the muscles in his shoulders shifting as he raised a hand to wipe sweat from his brow. His tanned skin gleamed under the sunlight, glistening with sweat as he worked, the flex of his biceps hypnotizing as he adjusted something on the wooden fence. Your throat went dry. He was gorgeous—tall, built like a dream, dark hair damp and tousled. Holy fuck.

“Who is that?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself, eyes locked onto him.

Your best friend glanced at where you were staring, then grinned. “Oh, that’s my dad.”

Your stomach dropped. Her dad. As in, her father. The man you had just been shamelessly ogling like he was carved from marble. Heat flooded your face so fast it made you lightheaded. You tried to snap your gaze away, but it was too late—he had turned, sharp brown eyes locking onto yours.

And just like that, you were even more screwed. Because now that you could see his face, he was somehow even hotter. A sharp jawline, high cheekbones, a hint of stubble across his chin. His lips were full, slightly parted as he caught his breath from whatever work he’d been doing. His gaze flickered over you once, quick but assessing, before settling on your best friend.

You forced yourself to look away, heart hammering. This was going to be a long summer.

You managed to shake off your embarrassment—at least on the surface—as your best friend ran up to hug her father. He greeted her with a warm smile, wrapping an arm around her before turning his attention to you.

“So you’re the infamous best friend I’ve been hearing about,” he said, his voice smooth, deep, and effortlessly confident. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Infamous? Your best friend had talked about you to him? You swallowed hard, forcing a polite smile as you shook the hand he offered. His grip was firm, fingers warm and slightly rough from whatever work he’d been doing. “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Jeong.”

He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. “Just Yunho is fine. ‘Mr. Jeong’ makes me feel ancient.”

You nodded, cheeks still warm. Yunho. Just Yunho. That was going to be a problem.

After unloading your bags and settling into the guest room, you spent the afternoon exploring the property. The house was just as stunning inside as it was outside—spacious, open, with large windows that overlooked the lake. As the sun dipped lower, the heat softened, replaced by the golden glow of early evening.

That’s how you found yourself outside, sitting on the wooden steps of the back porch, watching the water shimmer under the setting sun. Your best friend had gone to take a call inside, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Or at least, you thought you were alone.

“You like it here?”

You nearly jumped at the deep voice, turning to find Yunho standing nearby. He had changed out of his sweaty work clothes, now in a loose button-up with the top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He looked even better like this—casual, effortless.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, gripping your knees to keep your hands from fidgeting. “It’s beautiful.”

He hummed, stepping forward to lean against the railing. “I try to come out here as much as I can. It’s quiet, peaceful. Good place to get away from everything.”

You nodded, watching the water ripple as a breeze passed through. “I can see why.”

There was a comfortable silence before he spoke again. “You seem a little nervous.”

You stiffened. Was it that obvious? “I—no,” you lied. “Just… new place, new environment.”

His lips twitched, not quite a smirk but close. “Well, make yourself at home. You’re welcome here.”

The way he said it—low, slow, with that smooth voice of his—made something stir inside you. You could feel his eyes on you, heavier than before, like he was actually looking at you now. Not just as his daughter’s best friend, but as something else.

You swallowed, shifting under his gaze. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence. Then he chuckled, shaking his head as he looked back at the lake. “You remind me of someone.”

You tilted your head. “Who?”

A pause. Then, quietly, “Me.”

That threw you off. “You?”

He nodded. “When I was younger, I was like that too. A little quiet, a little unsure. Always overthinking instead of just… enjoying things.”

Your brows furrowed slightly. “You don’t seem like that now.”

“I’m not,” he admitted. “Life has a way of changing you.”

His voice had dropped, just a little. And you couldn’t help but wonder what had changed him—what had made him go from the person he used to be to the man standing in front of you now. For the first time, you weren’t just seeing him as your best friend’s father. You were seeing him.

Before you could respond, the screen door creaked open, and your best friend came rushing out, practically bouncing on her feet.

“Oh! I just had the best idea!” she announced, completely oblivious to the subtle shift in energy between you and her father. “Let’s go swimming! The lake is so warm this time of year, and the sun’s setting—it’s perfect.”

You blinked, still processing your conversation with Yunho, but she was already grabbing your hand. “Come on, you brought your swimsuit, right? Let’s change and go!”

You barely had a chance to glance at Yunho before she was dragging you inside.

Minutes later, you found yourself standing at the edge of the dock, the lake stretching endlessly in front of you. The last of the sunlight cast everything in a golden glow, the water lapping gently at the wooden beams beneath your feet.

Your best friend was already diving in, splashing as she resurfaced with a grin. “Come on! It’s perfect!”

Taking a breath, you stepped forward, adjusting the strings of your bikini before following her in. The water was warmer than expected, smooth and inviting as it wrapped around your skin. You surfaced with a gasp, wiping droplets from your lashes.

And then you saw him. Yunho had just emerged from the house, walking toward the dock with an easy, unbothered stride. He had changed into black swim trunks, the drawstrings hanging loose over his hips. But what really got you—what made your breath hitch—was his bare torso.

You’d thought he was attractive before. But now? Seeing him like this, all toned muscle and golden skin, veins running down his forearms, droplets of water from his damp hair trailing down his chest—he looked like he belonged on the cover of some magazine.

And then his gaze flicked to yours.

It was barely a second, just a glance as he stepped onto the dock, but it sent something sharp through you. His eyes lingered—just a little too long—before he turned away, stretching his arms overhead like he hadn’t just knocked the air from your lungs.

You quickly ducked your head, hoping your face wasn’t as red as it felt.

A loud splash pulled you from your thoughts as Yunho finally joined you both in the water. He swam easily, his strokes controlled, smooth, before he surfaced near you. The lake was big, but suddenly it felt too small, his presence swallowing the space between you.

Your best friend, oblivious as ever, floated on her back a few feet away, humming to herself.

And that’s when it started.

The first touch was barely anything—just a brush of his arm against yours as he swam past you. But it was deliberate. The second came when he surfaced beside you again, his hand grazing your back under the water. You froze, lips parting slightly, but he didn’t even look at you. Like nothing had happened.

Then, when you shifted to float on your back, your stomach grazing the surface, something firm, warm, pressed again against your lower back—his hand. Just for a second. A silent, lingering touch that sent heat spiraling through your body.

He was testing you.

And then, just when you thought you were imagining it all, when you thought maybe you were overreacting—

His fingers brushed your hand again. More lingering.. A featherlight touch, fleeting but unmistakable. Your breath caught in your throat.

But when you turned to look at him, his expression was unreadable. Calm. Unbothered. Like he hadn’t just crossed a line neither of you could take back.

You tried to focus on the water, on the way the golden ripples shimmered around you, on anything but the weight of Yunho’s fingers barely grazing your thigh under the surface.

But you couldn’t. Not when your body felt hot despite the cool lake, not when your mind kept replaying every subtle touch, every lingering glance. And definitely not when you could feel him watching you.

Yunho let out a quiet hum, tilting his head slightly. "You’re not very good at hiding it, sweetheart. The way your eyes drop to my hands, my arms… like you’re imagining them all over you."

And then, just when you thought you had a grip on yourself, Yunho moved closer. Not much—just enough that you could feel the water shift between you, enough that his shoulder brushed yours again, his skin warm even in the cool lake.

He was too close. But not close enough. You exhaled shakily. “You’re making it worse.”

His lips twitched, gaze dropping briefly—to your lips?—before meeting your eyes again. “Am I?” It wasn’t fair. The way he spoke, the way he looked at you now—like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he was enjoying it.

But you weren’t innocent either. Not when you found yourself leaning in just slightly, not when you let your fingers skim the surface of the water between you, almost—almost—brushing against his chest before pulling away.

His jaw tightened, just for a second.

“Careful, baby.” he murmured.

It wasn’t a warning. It was a challenge.

Your breath hitched, fingers curling against your palm. You wanted to push. You wanted to see just how much you could pull from him, how far he’d let you go before he finally cracked.

But before you could say anything, before you could cross a line you weren’t sure you could come back from—

“Alright, I’m freezing,” your best friend announced, completely shattering the moment as she waded toward the dock. “I’m gonna make some hot cocoa. You guys coming?”

You inhaled sharply, blinking as if snapping out of a trance. Yunho was still watching you, his expression unreadable, but he said nothing as he turned away, swimming toward the dock with effortless strokes.

You hesitated, heart still racing, before following after them.

The sun was dipping lower now, painting the sky with streaks of orange and purple. Your best friend had already climbed onto the dock, shaking herself off with a giggle.

“Hurry up, you two!” she called, turning around. “The sun’s almost gone, and I want marshmallows and hot cocoa before it’s dark!”

You barely had time to respond before she disappeared inside the house.

But you didn’t need to.

You could feel Yunho beside you, his presence undeniable, heavy in the air like a magnet pulling you closer.

Without saying a word, you both followed your best friend back into the warmth of the house. The kitchen was cozy, and your best friend was already pulling out skewers and marshmallows from the cupboard, humming happily to herself.

The porch door opened wide, and she called to you both, “You guys coming? The fire pit’s waiting!”

Yunho glanced over his shoulder at you before stepping outside. The heat in his gaze was unmistakable now. It made your pulse skip, and you tried to focus on anything other than the way he’d looked at you in the lake.

Your best friend immediately took a seat by the fire, poking the marshmallow onto the end of her skewer with an exaggerated flourish. You sat beside her, glancing at Yunho, who was standing slightly behind you. His eyes flicked to yours for the briefest moment, but you couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not. The heat of his gaze, as if he was searching for something on your face. Without thinking, you grabbed a marshmallow from the bag and stuck it onto the skewer. Your hands shook slightly, but you tried to ignore it.

The fire crackled, snapping in the still air, and your best friend shifted, glancing between you and Yunho with a teasing smile. “You guys are awfully quiet. Someone’s gotta talk! Tell me you’ve been getting along.” Your best friend was too chill for your liking.. maybe because her father had her young and had a closer bond with him but, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of being wanted by him. That feeling only made it worse for you all day.

You forced a smile, but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts kept drifting to the way his hand had brushed against yours in the water, how close he had been when you were swimming. How every interaction between you felt charged with something unspoken.

As the marshmallows started to brown over the fire, you felt Yunho step closer. You didn’t look up at him, but you could feel his presence. The way his body loomed over yours, the subtle shift in his posture that told you he was right there—watching.

The fire crackled, the only sound between you, and you could feel his breath just behind your ear.

"You're so easy to mess with, baby. One little touch and you're already breathless”, Yunho murmured, his voice low and barely audible over the crackling flames. “It’s hard to focus when you’re right here…”

Your breath caught in your throat. Did he really just say that?

Your best friend, oblivious, leaned forward, blowing air at her marshmallow to cool it down. “What are you two talking about? Are y’all gossiping about me, huh? I’m dying to know!”

You nearly jumped when Yunho shifted his weight, stepping away just slightly. But the damage had been done—the tension between you two was now palpable.

You glanced at him quickly, just enough to catch him looking back at you, a hint of something dangerous in his eyes.

You took a deep breath and shoved the marshmallow into the flames, letting it burn just a little too much. It was easier to focus on the heat of the fire than the heat of Yunho’s gaze. But you knew, deep down, that the fire wasn’t the only thing burning between you.

The marshmallows were finished, the sweet gooey centers burnt just enough to give them that perfect crisp, and your best friend was happily munching away, occasionally giving you a sly look.

You tried to ignore the fire that was burning between you and Yunho. You could feel him, the heat of his body next to yours as you both stared at the flickering flames.

You didn't dare look at him directly. The air felt too heavy, and your best friend didn’t notice—too distracted by the phone in her hand.

“Hold on,” she said, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “It’s my boyfriend. I’ll just be a sec.” She took the call, stepping away from the fire pit for some privacy.

You were left in a silence with Yunho. He didn’t move at first, simply letting the sound of the crackling fire fill the space. His gaze didn’t leave you, though. You could feel it, like a weight on your skin, every subtle look making your breath hitch.

A few moments passed before Yunho shifted slightly closer to you.

“You know,” he started, voice hushed but laced with that trademark smoothness, “you look stunning tonight.” Your pulse jumped. You barely managed to glance at him, catching the subtle tilt of his head.

You didn’t respond immediately, unsure of how to form words when your body was begging you to lean into the heat of his touch. But you had to. “Thanks,” you mumbled, fingers gripping your cup just a little too tightly.

The corner of his lips quirked up into that teasing smile, and your heart thudded in your chest. He reached out, his fingers brushing gently against your thigh, just the lightest contact—but enough to make your breath catch.

He didn’t take his hand away, though, leaving it there as if it belonged. His touch was light, almost like a warning, and every inch of you wanted more.

"You're not fooling me," he murmured, his voice low. "All those little touches, all those innocent looks. You knew exactly what you were doing, sweetheart."

You swallowed, feeling the heat surge through your veins. "Is that so?"

Yunho’s thumb traced a small circle on the inside of your thigh, slow, deliberate. You could barely breathe. The tension between you two was excruciating, and the only thing you could do was sit there, trying to keep yourself together, trying not to collapse under the pressure of his touch.

"So soft, baby… wonder if you’d shiver like this if I touched you somewhere else..”,he said softly, his breath warm against your ear. He saw his daughter coming back, but before he moved his hand away, he reassured you, his voice low, “I'll make it up to you later.”

Before you could respond, your best friend walked back in, phone still pressed to her ear.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” she said, her voice filled with excitement. “Okay, love you, see you soon!”

She hung up, and you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. Yunho removed his hand, but you could still feel the faint heat of his touch, like a lingering burn against your skin.

“Looks like someone’s got plans,” Yunho said, glancing at you and then at his daughter. You raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool.

“Yeah, I’m going to my boyfriend’s place for a couple of hours. He just got into town, and I promised I’d see him while he’s here.” She smiled at Yunho, her eyes bright with excitement.

You felt a little knot form in your stomach, not because you weren’t happy for her, but because now it was just you and Yunho. Alone.

“Of course,” Yunho replied smoothly, his voice warmer now, more amused. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Have fun.”

You watched your best friend rush off, her steps quick as she headed toward the door, ready to leave. The moment she stepped outside, the door closing behind her, the tension in the room shifted.

The marshmallows had all been roasted and eaten, the warmth from the fire still lingering in the air as you and Yunho began cleaning up the plates. Your best friend promised she’d be back in an hour.

Yunho's gaze lingering just a little too long, his fingers brushed against yours as you handed him a plate, and you tried to ignore the spark that shot up your arm.

“So,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “do you always roast marshmallows this late?”

Yunho chuckled, his eyes glinting in the soft kitchen light. “Only when the company’s worth it.”

You glanced up at him, feeling your heart skip a beat at the intensity in his eyes. But before you could reply, his phone buzzed.

He picked it up, swiping the screen with one hand while keeping his other hand casually resting on the counter.

“Everything okay?” you asked, casually, though the beat of your heart had quickened.

Yunho nodded, though his smile had turned a little more amused. “Yeah, just got a message from my daughter.”

He read through it and then let out a little chuckle, his tone warm but with an edge of something else. “She’s staying at her boyfriend’s tonight.”

“That so?” you said, trying to play it cool, even as the weight of his words settled over you.

He put the phone down, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The atmosphere had shifted, the air between you suddenly thick with tension. “Guess we’re alone now.”

Your breath hitched, your pulse quickening in response to his proximity.

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart race. “Guess so,” you whispered, trying to keep your cool, though every inch of you was on edge.

He leaned even closer, his body just a hair's breadth away from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, making your skin burn.

“Well,” Yunho said, his voice low, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “I think we can find something to do with all this time, don’t you?”

He didn’t take his eyes off you as he stepped closer, his movements deliberate, slow—each step calculated, bringing him nearer to you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you instinctively took a small step back, but the moment you did, he closed the distance, forcing you to press your back against the cool, hard wall behind you.

He didn’t touch you at first. He simply stood there, watching you, his eyes dark and intent, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his gaze unwavering.

Yunho murmured, his voice a low, teasing drawl. "You’ve been looking at me like you want something, sweetheart. Why don’t you tell me?"

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your chest tightening. It was like he was daring you to run—daring you to pull away from him—but you couldn’t. Your body wanted him too much.

“I…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say, your heart pounding in your chest.

His smile widened just a little, a flicker of something dark in his gaze as he stepped closer again, pushing you further back against the wall.

His hand, warm and confident, landed on your hip, his fingers lightly brushing your skin. He gave you a moment to adjust, to feel him there, testing the waters.

You didn’t pull away. You didn’t want to. In fact, your body seemed to lean into the touch, craving more, eager for him to push further.

He noticed. The slight shift of your body, the way your chest fluttered with every breath. His eyes darkened, and with a sharp inhale, his hand moved up to your waist, his fingers grazing the side of your ribs.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “Are you okay with this?”

Your heart raced, your mind spinning. You wanted to speak, to tell him yes, but all you could do was nod, too lost in the way his hand made you feel.

Yunho’s gaze flickered to your lips for a split second before it returned to your eyes. "That’s not enough for you, is it, baby?”

You didn’t need to say anything. The way you leaned into him, the way your breath hitched, the way your body trembled under his touch said it all.

Without warning, he cupped your chin with his other hand, forcing your head up just slightly as his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was soft at first, his mouth teasing, coaxing, exploring with the gentlest pressure. You melted into it, your hands slipping up to rest on his chest.

But then his hand slid down to your lower back, and the kiss deepened. It was like a switch flipped inside of him. His kiss grew more insistent, more urgent, as if he couldn’t wait any longer.

His other hand slid up to your chest, cupping the side of your breast. The pressure was light, just enough to make your heart race faster. His lips left yours to trail down your jaw, kissing your neck, while his hand slid lower.

Your body was burning. Every nerve felt alive, tingling with need. You felt your knees weaken as his hand moved beneath the hem of your shirt, fingertips grazing the soft skin of your stomach.

When you leaned into him again, desperate for more of his touch, he smirked, knowing full well how much power he had over you.

“Tell me, baby…” he started as the hand on your lower back moved to your pants, unbuttoning them. His hand trailed around your waist until it slipped right in your panties. “...did you get this wet just by thinking about me?”

You whimpered under his touch… And that’s when he got rougher.

His hands moved quickly, more forceful now, pulling you flush against him. He groaned as your bodies collided, the heat between you rising higher, his grip tightening around your waist as he pressed his hips into yours.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Yunho growled, his lips brushing your ear. “And I’m going to make sure you know it.”

Yunho’s hands were a whirlwind of heat and strength, gripping you tightly as he pulled you against him. His lips brushed against your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your skin, and his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine.

"You wanted my attention, and now you have it. Let’s see if you can handle it.” he murmured, his voice a deep, rough whisper that made your heart race. His hands moved down your sides, squeezing your hips with a possessive grip. "You’ve been such a good girl, waiting for this… dripping for me. You want your reward, don’t you?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry, as your body responded without you even realizing it. He was so close now, his knee between your thighs, pushing them apart, his touch firm, demanding. You could feel the heat between your legs, the desperate throb of your pussy as your body instinctively shifted closer to him.

“I—yes,” you gasped, your voice small but desperate. “I want it... but...”

Yunho froze, his hands tightening on your hips as his eyes snapped to yours.

“But... what?” he growled, his voice low.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the tension building, before you finally admitted, “I—I’m a virgin.”

Yunho cursed under his breath, his eyes darkening with both frustration and something darker—desire. His grip tightened almost painfully on your waist, his voice a rough rasp as he responded, “Fuck.” He took a slow breath, his hands sliding down to your lower back, his fingertips brushing against the sensitive skin.

“You’re telling me... you’ve never been fucked before?” His tone was thick with disbelief, but it only made your body ache for him more.

“No,” you breathed, your hands hovering softly over his chest, desperate for his touch. “I—I’ve never...”

“"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath, raking a hand through his hair before gripping your waist. His touch was firmer now, like he was holding himself back. His gaze flickered over your face, dark with something primal. "You’ve really never…?" He exhaled sharply, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. "Fuck. That means every little sound, every little reaction—" He swallowed hard, his voice dropping. "All of it’s gonna be just for me."

He moved his knee between your legs again, pressing harder, spreading you open with a force that had your head spinning. His hands slid up to your chest, the heat from his touch making your skin burn as he cupped your breasts roughly, squeezing and kneading them through your clothes.

His lips descended on yours, kissing you with an intensity that took your breath away, his hands working at the fastenings of your clothes, undoing them with unrelenting precision.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he muttered, his hands caressing every inch of your exposed skin. He kissed your neck, your collarbone, his lips trailing down to your breasts, and you gasped, your body trembling from the touch. “And all mine tonight.”

You were barely able to comprehend it all as Yunho’s hands worked their way down your body, his touch rough, almost possessive as he teased you, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin between your legs. You moaned, unable to help it, and he grinned darkly, his eyes flashing with a predatory glint.

“You’re mine tonight,” he repeated, the words burning in your ears. “And I’ll make sure you never forget that.”

He lifted you easily, carrying you to the bedroom with a single-minded purpose, and when he dropped you onto the bed, the weight of his body followed immediately. He crawled over you, his eyes never leaving yours, and you felt the heat from his body overwhelm you.

Yunho’s lips ghosted over yours, his voice a low rasp. "This is what you wanted, isn’t it?"

His knee pressed between your legs, parting them effortlessly. His breath hitched as his fingers trailed up your thighs—slow, teasing—before slipping between them. Testing. Barely touching.

And then, he felt it.

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Uh-oh… already so, so wet for me, baby?" His fingers pressed in just enough to make you gasp. "Guess I don’t even have to ask how bad you need this."

You couldn’t help but nod, your body aching for more, your chest heaving with desire. “P-please…”

He cursed again, his voice thick with frustration, and then, with a growl, he lifted you off the bed, moving you effortlessly to his side. “You better be ready for this, sweetheart. Because I’m not going easy on you.”

Yunho’s lips were relentless against yours, claiming your mouth with a messy, desperate hunger. His tongue pushed past your lips, licking into you with no hesitation, no restraint—wet, hot, possessive. His teeth grazed your lower lip, tugging roughly before he slanted his mouth over yours again, deeper, hungrier, like he wanted to ruin you with just his kiss.

His hands were everywhere at once—gripping, kneading, stroking. He squeezed your waist before sliding lower, grabbing at your ass. The heat between your legs pulsed, your body arching instinctively into his as he pressed his weight down onto you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, flipping you around and pushing your chest into the wall. He tilted your head toward him, kissing you sloppily. He pressed himself against your ass, letting you feel just how eager he was to ruin you. “Feel this, baby..? That's just how much I want you”

You gasped into his mouth, your fingers clawing at the wall, desperate for something to hold on to. His hands moved higher, shoving your shirt up, his rough palms trailing over your bare skin, lighting a fire everywhere he touched.

“Need this off,” he muttered, voice hoarse as he yanked the fabric over your head. His mouth was on your shoulder in an instant, sucking harsh bruises into your skin, marking you, owning you.

You barely had a second to breathe before his hands moved again—one slipping on your back to unclasp your bra, the other gripping your hip, pressing you harder against the thick bulge in his jeans. He groaned as your bare breasts pressed against the wall.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your thighs before tossing them aside. “So fucking pretty,” he murmured, his hand trailing between your legs, fingertips teasing along your slit. “So wet for me already.” he said as he lowered himself on his knees, kisses trailing from your shoulder to your lower back, the to the soft, plush skin of your ass.

You whimpered, legs twitching as he rubbed slow, deliberate circles over your clit, the pressure just enough to drive you insane. Your hips bucked into his hand, chasing more friction, and he smirked against your skin. “Impatient, huh?”.

But before you could whine, after he was done with his sloppy, soft trail of kisses, he suddenly got up and backed off. Your breath caught as you turned around and watched him reach for his own shirt, yanking it off and tossing it to the floor. His body was all hard muscle, broad shoulders flexing as he undid his belt, the soft clink of metal making your core clench with anticipation. He made a show of unbuttoning his jeans, shoving them down his thighs before kicking them off entirely, leaving him in just his boxers.

And that’s when you saw it. Your eyes widened, breath hitching as you stared at the thick, straining outline beneath the thin fabric. He was huge.

Yunho let out a low chuckle, catching your reaction. His gaze was dark, hungry, smug. “What’s wrong, baby?” he teased, palming himself through his boxers, giving a slow, deliberate squeeze. “Didn’t expect me to be this big?”

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. “I—”

His smirk deepened as he leaned back down over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Don’t worry. I’ll make it fit.”

Yunho didn't give you a chance to process, didn't let you catch your breath before he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and shoved them down.

Your gasp was instant, raw, eyes widening as his cock sprang free--thick, heavy, flushed deep at the tip. The veins running along the shaft stood out, prominent, like they were made to be traced with your own little tongue. He was so fucking big, the kind of size that made your thighs press together with both pleasure and just a little bit of fear.

Yunho caught the way you stared, your lips parting like you wanted to speak but couldn’t. His grin was slow, dark, as he stroked himself—letting you watch.

"That pretty little mouth of yours can’t even find the words, huh?" His voice was thick with amusement, his eyes locked on you. "That’s alright, baby… I’d rather have it wrapped around my cock anyway."

Your whimper was embarrassingly loud as he approached you, his hand slipping on your ass, and he chuckled, leaning down to press his lips against your ear. ""Say it.'' His voice was rough, commanding. "Say you want Daddy to fuck you.”

Your breath hitched, shame burning at your skin, but the need-the sheer, aching desperation-was stronger. "I -" You swallowed hard, gripping at his forearms,

fingers barely able to wrap around the thick muscles there. "I want Daddy to fuck me.

Yunho’s cock throbbed in his hand as he stroked himself slowly, watching you with dark, hooded eyes. His other hand was between your legs, two thick fingers buried inside your dripping cunt, stretching you open.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, his deep voice dripping with hunger as he curled his fingers just right, hitting that perfect spot that had your legs trembling. “Taking my fingers so well. Gonna feel so fucking good when I finally stretch you around my cock.”

Your whimper only made his smirk deepen. He pulled his fingers out slowly, dragging them against your walls before bringing them up to your mouth, pressing them against your lips. “Open.”

You obeyed instantly, parting your lips, letting him slide his fingers inside. The taste of yourself flooded your tongue, and Yunho groaned, watching as you sucked them clean, his cock twitching tall against his stomach.

“Fuck,” he growled, gripping the back of your head. “You’re gonna look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

He guided you down onto all fours between his spread thighs, his other hand still trailing between your legs, fingers teasing your swollen clit as he positioned you right in front of his cock. It was thick, flushed, the veins standing out as he stroked himself, making sure you saw just how big he was.

“Look at it, baby,” he murmured, the head of his cock brushing against your lips. “You’re gonna take your time with this, yeah? Let Daddy teach you how to suck it just right.”

You nodded, your breath warm against his cock as you hesitantly parted your lips. Yunho guided you with firm hands, his fingers threading through your hair as you took the swollen tip into your mouth.

“Good girl,” he groaned, tilting his head back as you wrapped your lips around him. “Fuck, yeah—just like that.”

His fingers between your legs moved in slow, lazy circles, teasing your clit as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper. He cursed under his breath, his grip tightening in your hair as he resisted the urge to thrust into your mouth.

“Relax your throat,” he murmured, voice strained. “Take more, baby. You can do it.”

You obeyed, inching down further, your tongue running along the prominent veins on the underside of his cock. Yunho let out a deep, shuddering breath, his hips twitching as he groaned, “Fuck—just like that.”

His fingers between your thighs finally pushed back inside you, stretching you open again as he fucked them into you in time with the slow, messy bob of your head. “God, you’re such a good fucking girl for me,” he panted, watching you take him, watching the way your thighs trembled from his touch.

His breathing grew ragged, his grip in your hair tightening as you swirled your tongue over the slit of his cock, tasting the salty precum. His hips jerked involuntarily, and a rough groan ripped from his throat.

“Gonna come,” he warned, voice wrecked, his cock throbbing on your tongue. “You gonna swallow like a good girl?”

You moaned around him, and that was it.

Yunho cursed, his muscles tensing as he came hard, thick ropes of cum spilling into your mouth. His grip on your hair loosened as he shuddered through it, his breath heavy and uneven.

You swallowed it all, licking your lips as you pulled back, and Yunho groaned at the sight, his thumb tracing your swollen lips. “Fuck, that was so hot,” he muttered, pulling you up onto the bed before pushing your back against the mattress.

His hands were rough as they gripped your thighs, spreading you open once more. His cock was still hard, still thick, still glistening from your mouth, and he smirked as he rubbed the tip against your soaked entrance.

“You did so well for me, baby,” he murmured, teasing you, pressing just the head inside before pulling back. “But we’re not done yet.”

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing slow, torturous circles as he grinned down at you.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Yunho hovered over you, his large hands spreading your thighs wide, his body radiating warmth as he settled between them. His cock was thick and hard, the head already pressing gently against your entrance, teasing, testing.

His eyes were dark with restraint, his breathing heavy as he ran his hands up your sides, smoothing over your ribs, your stomach, before cupping your jaw with a gentleness that had your heart skipping. “Relax, baby,” he murmured, voice softer now, coaxing. “Gonna take my time with you.”

He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, swallowing your nervous breath before slowly, slowly pushing inside.

The stretch was instant, overwhelming, burning and pleasurable all at once. Your fingers dug into his biceps, nails pressing into the thick veins running along his forearms as he worked himself deeper, stopping every few inches to let you adjust.

“Shh, I got you,” he soothed, lips brushing over your temple, his breath warm against your skin. His voice was a quiet hum of restraint, but his cock was throbbing inside you, twitching like he was holding himself back from burying himself to the hilt.

But then you gasped, body trembling as he pushed a little more, and Yunho froze, groaning as he realized—you still couldn’t even take half of him.

He pulled back just enough to watch, his gaze dark, hungry, as you struggled to take him. His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

His thumb traced over your clit—soft, teasing, not nearly enough. "Look at you," he murmured, voice rich with amusement. "Can’t even take half, huh? So damn tight… but don’t worry, baby—" his smirk deepened as he pressed in just a little more— "we’ll fix that."

You whimpered, thighs twitching as he pulled out just a bit, rubbing the thick head against your soaked entrance before pushing back in, just a little deeper this time. “Don’t worry,” he chuckled, his voice like warm honey laced with sin. “I’m gonna make it fit.”

His lips found yours, kissing you slow, deep, as he rolled his hips, easing himself deeper, inch by inch. His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, teasing your nipples, rubbing slow circles into your thigh. Every movement was designed to coax you open, to make you crave more.

The burn turned into pleasure, the ache shifting into something dangerously addictive. Yunho groaned when you finally relaxed around him, his cock sinking deeper, his restraint thinning as your walls clenched around him, sucking him in.

But just as he found his rhythm, just as he was kissing you slow, touching you sweetly— you decided to push him.

Your lips curled into the smallest, brattiest smirk, and you clenched down tight around him, rolling your hips up just slightly, even though it had you gasping from the intense stretch.

Yunho froze.

His breath stuttered, his muscles tensing beneath your hands. For a long second, he didn’t move. Just stared down at you, the flickering candlelight catching the veins on his arms, his neck, his cock buried deep inside you.

And then he let out a low, dangerous chuckle. “Oh, you wanna play dirty, huh?” His voice was different now—darker, deeper, rougher.

His grip on your thighs tightened, his thumbs pressing into your skin, and then, with zero warning, he snapped his hips forward, slamming himself deeper, forcing you to take all of him.

A strangled moan ripped from your throat, your back arching off the bed as the pleasure hit you like a fucking freight train.

“Thought you were struggling a second ago,” Yunho gritted out, his voice thick with amusement. His hands slid up your stomach, his fingertips brushing over your nipples, tweaking, teasing. “But now you’re acting like a little brat.”

He pulled out just enough before slamming back in, his restraint snapping thread by thread as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

"You want it rough, baby?" Yunho’s voice was a low growl, his teeth grazing your jaw—dangerously close to sinking in. His grip tightened, holding you in place as he rolled his hips, pushing deeper, stretching you open inch by inch.

"That’s it… take it," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. His cock dragged against your walls, thick, unrelenting, before he pulled back just enough to make you whimper.

"Don’t worry, sweetheart…" His smirk was pure sin as he thrust in again, slow but firm. "Daddy's gonna take care of you, make you feel so full.”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer.

Yunho’s hips slammed into yours, fucking you deep, hard, relentless—his hands gripping your wrists, pinning them above your head as his mouth found your breasts, biting, marking you everywhere.

His control was gone.

And you?

You had asked for this. Yunho had snapped.

The second you clenched around him—tight, desperate, involuntary—he lost every ounce of restraint.

His large hands gripped your thighs, forcing them even wider as he sank deeper, inch by devastating inch. You were so small compared to him, and fuck, the way your body struggled to take him made him groan deep in his chest.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice dark, rough with restraint. “So fucking tight—” He rolled his hips forward, pressing even deeper, making sure you felt every single inch of him. “Your little pussy wasn’t made for something this big, was it?”

Your breath hitched, fingers gripping onto his strong, veined forearms like they were your only anchor. The stretch was intense, burning, dizzying, but it was so good. You didn’t even realize you were whimpering, trembling beneath him.

“Poor baby,” he cooed, his huge hand cupping your jaw, thumb stroking over your parted lips. “Barely able to take me… but still trying to act like a little brat?”

You whimpered, your body tightening around him again, and Yunho groaned, jaw clenching as his cock throbbed inside you.

“Shit—” His grip tightened, veins bulging beneath his tan skin, muscles flexing as he held himself back. You were too fucking tight. Too untouched, unclaimed— and that only made his control slip even more.

He nudged against your cervix, the pressure sending a sharp wave of pleasure-pain through you, and you gasped, back arching beneath him.

And Yunho? He felt it. Every little clench, every tiny tremor. And it was driving him fucking crazy.

Your moan was helpless, needy, completely wrecked.

Yunho groaned again, his head dropping to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. “Fuck—you’re sucking me in so tight.”

And then—you did it again.

Clenching around him, squeezing down, teasing, despite the fact that you could barely handle him.

His hands slid up your stomach, teasing, slow, fingertips brushing over your breasts before wrapping around your throat, tilting your chin up so you had to look at him.

“You gonna cry for me, baby?” he murmured, mocking, teasing. “Can’t handle how deep Daddy is?”

The title sent another sharp pulse through your core, and Yunho felt it immediately.

His jaw clenched, his thick cock twitching inside you. “Oh, fuck–, you like that?” His fingers tightened slightly around your throat, just enough to make your breath stutter. “Like having my cock stretch you open? Like knowing I’m the first—the only—man who’ll ever break you in?”

You whimpered, head spinning, drowning in the filth of it all.

Then, with one smooth, effortless motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, his strong hands pressing into your back, keeping you pinned.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he rasped, voice rough, desperate, on the edge of losing it completely. “Wanted to be fucked properly?”

He pulled out just to slam back in, forcing you to take him deeper than ever, stretching you in ways you never thought possible.

Your moan was wrecked, broken, completely fucked-out.

“That’s it,” Yunho groaned, snapping his hips forward, his thick cock pressing against the deepest part of you. “Take it, baby. Take all of it.”

His grip on your hips was bruising, dragging you back onto his cock as he fucked you with long, deep strokes, each one knocking the air from your lungs.

With one hand, he gripped your waist, lifting it slightly as he rolled his hips into you, the sensation of him pressing against you was intoxicating. He moved slowly at first, his thrusts deliberate and deep, letting you feel every inch of him as he sank into you.

His other hand traveled down your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin before finding your clit. The moment he began to rub slow, teasing circles, you gasped, your body responding instinctively.

“Y-Yunho,” you whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensation of being stretched by him and the pleasure building within you.

“Just let it happen,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You can take it.”

You could feel the pressure building, both from his relentless thrusting and his skilled fingers working over your clit, drawing you closer to the edge. The combination was too much, and you felt tears slipping down your cheeks as he held you down, completely at his mercy.

“That's it,” he encouraged, his voice a low growl. “You’re doing so well for me.”

As his fingers worked faster, you felt yourself teetering on the brink, the overwhelming pleasure washing over you in intoxicating waves.

Yunho's fingers moved skillfully over your clit, the pressure inside you began to build, overwhelming your senses. Each thrust of his hips was deep and relentless, pushing you closer to an edge you had never known before.

“Oh, god,” you gasped, feeling the tight coil of pleasure tighten in your core. It was building, growing more intense with each movement, and you could hardly believe what was happening. This was your first orgasm, and it felt like everything was about to explode.

“Just let go, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and encouraging, like a siren calling you closer to the waves. “I know you can do it. You’re so close.”

With one final, deliberate thrust, his fingers increased their pace, and suddenly, the pressure released. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body shaking as you felt the orgasm wash through you for the first time. It was intense, all-consuming, and it left you breathless, your vision blurring as you gasped for air.

“Good girl,” Yunho praised, his voice thick with desire. “That’s it. You did so well.”

But he didn’t relent. Instead, he rolled his hips faster and deeper, pushing you through the aftershocks of your release. His grip on your neck was firm but gentle, guiding you as he moved. Each thrust was powerful, hitting a spot inside you that made you moan uncontrollably.

“Feel how good you are for me,” he encouraged, his voice a mixture of roughness and sweetness. “You’re taking me so well. I knew you could do it.”

The combination of his praise and the relentless rhythm of his hips sent you spiraling again, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

Then, with a low growl, Yunho shifted his grip, holding you closer, and you could feel the intensity of his own need as he began to fill you up completely. The sensation of him deep inside you was overwhelming, and you could barely contain the pleasure that surged through your body once more.

“Just like that,” he groaned, his breath scorching your skin as he moved against you. “You were made for me, baby. I’m gonna make you remember every inch of me inside you.”

With that, he thrust harder, deeper, making sure you felt every inch of him, every thrust, as he lost himself in the rhythm of your bodies. You were his, completely and utterly, and as he filled you up, you couldn’t help but surrender to the pleasure.

As Yunho continued to thrust into you, the sensations were overwhelming. Each movement was deep and precise, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You could barely think straight, lost in the moment—until the sound of his phone ringing broke through the haze.

He paused, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he glanced at the screen. The color drained from his face for a moment, replaced by a smirk. “Just when I thought I had you all to myself,” he murmured, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

With a finger pressed to your lips, he held your gaze. “It’s my daughter,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “And she’s calling. But you’re going to stay quiet while I talk.”

Your heart raced at the implication, the thrill of being caught in such an intimate moment mixed with urgency. He held you in place, his grip on your waist firm as he pressed his phone to his ear.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, his voice shifting to a comforting tone, softly thrusting into you. “Yeah, sorry, the signal here is awful. I’m good, just… busy around the house.”

As he spoke, he kept his pace, slower but no less intense. He kept your hips pinned down, the rhythm of his movements steady. You had to bite your lip to keep from making a sound, the pleasure building within you again.

“I’m with a friend,” he continued, glancing down at you with a wicked smile. “Yeah, she’s fine… watching a movie, just a little preoccupied. ”

The way he emphasized the last word sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you struggled to suppress your moans. Each thrust drew you closer to the edge, and the combination of his words and movements was driving you wild. The feeling of being so vulnerable and exposed, yet entirely under his control, sent shivers down your spine.

Yunho leaned down closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he continued to talk. “I’ll call you back in a bit, okay? Just need to take care of something,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing. “Love you.”

As he ended the call, his eyes locked onto yours and how you looked over your shoulder at him, the teasing glint in them igniting a fire in your belly. “You did so well, baby,” he said, breathless.

With that, he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming more demanding and urgent as you struggled to hold back the sounds threatening to escape. You could feel the pressure building within you, every deep thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you. The thrill of being caught, mixed with the electric tension in the air, had you teetering on the edge of another release.

“Isn’t this fun?” he teased, his voice low and gravelly. “You, here, all mine.. taking my cock so well, while my daughter thinks I’m just busy with a friend. How naughty of you.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, the thrill of being in this secret, intimate space where nothing else mattered but the two of you. You wanted to respond, to beg him for more, but he held you firmly, the weight of his body pressing you down into the mattress.

“Can you keep quiet for me?” he asked, his breath hot against your skin. “I want to hear you hold back, feel you tighten around me.”

You nodded, the pressure of his hips against yours nearly overwhelming. It was all you could do to keep quiet as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, your body responding instinctively to his every thrust.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “You’re doing so well. Just a little longer.”

But as he spoke, he slowed his movements, teasing you, drawing it out. His fingers grazed your waist, the sensation both grounding and electrifying. You could feel him hovering over you, the heat radiating from his body as he watched your every reaction.

“"Look at you," he murmured, his voice rich with lust, laced with something almost reverent. His grip tightened as he rolled his hips, slow, deliberate. "You’re already so close… I can feel it—the way you're gripping me, holding me so tight."

You wanted to respond, to tell him just how close you were, but you knew you had to hold back. The thrill of the moment only intensified the pleasure, and with each deliberate thrust, he was pushing you to your limits.

“Let’s see how long you can take it,” he teased, his hands gripping your hips as he began to pick up the pace again, harder and deeper.

Every thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, and you could feel your resolve weakening. The mix of desire and restraint was intoxicating, and with each movement, he drew you closer to that blissful edge once more.

“You’re doing so, so well, baby…” he murmured, his voice low and full of praise. “You can do it, baby. Just keep quiet for me, mm?”

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his hips, pushed you further toward the edge, and you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped your lips. Yunho’s eyes darkened with desire, and you knew he could feel how close you were.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided playfully. “No sounds. You promised.”

With that, he thrust deeper, his movements becoming more frantic, the urgency building between you as he closed in on his own release. You could feel the tension crackling in the air, and you knew you were both reaching that point of no return.

He held you tightly, his breath ragged as he whispered sweet praises in your ear. “You’re incredible, baby. Taking my cock so, so well…”

Your body responded to him instinctively, tightening around him as if begging for release. The world outside faded, leaving only the two of you in this moment, lost in each other.

“Can you feel that?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “You’re driving me wild. I’m not stopping until we both finish..”

With renewed vigor, he picked up the pace, his hips slamming into you with a delicious intensity. The sounds of skin meeting skin filled the room, echoing the rhythm of your bodies intertwined.

“Let go for me,” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “I want to feel you come around me. Show me how good you are.”

And just like that, the dam broke. Whatever restraint you had within you to not make a sound, to not cum and scream, it shattered. The waves of pleasure crashed over you, overwhelming and all-consuming. You gasped, moans and whimpers escaping your rapidly rising chest, your body shaking as you surrendered to the bliss of your orgasm, the world around you blurring into nothing.

Yunho’s thrusts didn’t relent; instead, he chased his own orgasm, driving deeper into you, and the sensation pushed you even higher. “That’s it, baby. Just like that,” he growled, his voice a mix of pleasure and need.

As your body pulsed around him, you felt him tighten his grip on you, a low growl escaping his lips as he finally lost himself in you. His cum filled you completely, the sensation igniting a final spark of pleasure that sent shivers through your entire being.

In those moments, as you both rode out the waves of pleasure together, the world outside faded away completely. It was just you and him, tangled in each other, both left breathless and completely satisfied.

As you lay there, wrapped in the aftermath of your shared ecstasy, Yunho brushed his fingers softly over your back, a warm smile spreading across his face. “You did amazing,” he said, his voice tender and filled with warmth. “I knew you were special.”

You looked up at him, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest, and with a teasing smile, you whispered, “this is going to be a looong summer…” and a chuckle followed, Yunho smiling at you.

“Yeah, indeed-” he paused for a second, a thought running through his mind. “Ah, I completely forgot.. my daughter is not going to be home for a whooole week, sweetie. She has some sort of trip with his boyfriend's family.. I don't know. How do you feel about that, hm?” he wrapped you in his embrace, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder.

“I- oh.” you managed to mumble, puppy-like eyes looking up at him, eagerly waiting for that week to come as he smiled at you.

NETWORKS: @blossomnet @illusionnet @mirohs-aurora-society

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @strawberry-mingi @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @tahiraax1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz @chai0tea @miyaluvvsyou @lezleeferguson-120 @sopematesxx

[gothsuguru]

changing the title of buzzcut season to sour lemonade… using one WIP title fic for another <3

[via-the-cryptid]

tgcf au where hc’s true form is Wu Ming. it’s what he looked like right after he died, and even if he reinvents himself, even if he’s gained more strength and power from the Kiln, he still can’t grow or change but so much without involving shapeshifting. his canon form is the one he built for himself, the one he created with the intention of becoming an entirely new being (not weak or helpless, like he used to be before he sculpted a new identity), but it isn’t his true form. his true form is still that bony little waif of a soldier, the one that tried to so hard to help his god but couldn’t truly fix anything in the end.

and now, imagine just how much xl is going to lose his mind when hc inevitably shows him this true form (after much hesitation, but hc really can’t deny his beloved god anything and he would never want to, even if he’s practically ready to dissipate from the shamefulness of that awful body). think of hc changing into the half-starved ghost of Wu Ming, not expecting xl to even remember the ghost — let alone recognize him — and then think of just how hard xl is going to cry when he realises that Wu Ming is still here and still following him after all.

[flaccid-rats]

pre ANH au where Din and Luke meet on Tatooine, have their summer romance and all that, and when Din inevitably has to leave Luke gives him a japor snippet (“It’s a good luck charm,” Luke says with a smile. “I’ve seen how reckless you get on your bounties.”) and Din thinks it’s a little silly, but he lets Luke put it around his neck anyway.

It is only a few days later that Din hears about the Lars family, about the fire, about how they never found a third body.

And then Din just…never takes that japor snippet off.

For years he wears it, the sound of the japor clinking against the beskar of his mythosaur pendant becoming so familiar to him that he panics when it falls silent. He reaches for his neck when he cannot hear that ringing sound, reaches for the japor, desperate to make sure it’s still there, that he did not lose what he has left of the man he would never really stop loving. Even when Din is dying, when he takes off his mythosaur pendant to give to Cara, when he begs her to take it, to bring this child he knows nothing of to safety, he keeps the japor close to his slowing heart.

And somehow, Din lives.

(“It’s a good luck charm,” Luke says with a smile.)

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 27 - Voiceless, “I have no mouth and I must scream”

I feel like I’ve been mean to Wind a lot heh, I feel bad for the little guy. It’s better than the three arrows I put in his chest in that other fic! ...Maybe, anyway.

Warnings: redeads

Ao3 link

————————————————————

Wind was not happy.

He struggled and kicked, tried to squirm out of the bruising hold on his arms, went limp and tried to just give the two soldiers dragging him along some underground passageway as worse of a time as possible. They’d already taken his weapons and only held him tighter as he struggled, but Wind kept it up anyway.

One of the Yiga grumbled in annoyance as Wind kicked at his legs, and he felt a glint of satisfaction.

“Rotten kid, that attitude will die plenty quick where you’re going,” the other Yiga snapped, ignoring Wind’s attempts to bite him. “This cell was for the hero, but what better way to lure him there than to dump his little brother in it first?”

“You built a cell underneath the outskirts of a village? Wow, that’s normal well-adjusted behavior,” Wind huffed, and one Yiga sneered.

“We merely adapted it for our purposes. And you’re the perfect person to test it out.”

Wind finally managed to clamp his jaws down on one of the soldier’s hands, and he yelled, gloves not thick enough to really protect him. The other one snatched at Wind and put a dagger to his throat before he could press his attack, and Wind reluctantly released the hand, getting the message.

“Link’ll never fall for your stupid trap anyway,” Wind said with a glare, and the Yiga both chuckled.

“Oh yes he will. Have fun, kid.”

A door was opened, and Wind was tossed through without any sort of fanfare, stumbling as he landed. He whirled back around to the door, but it was already closed and firmly locked.

Wind scowled at it, then turned to look around his prison, mind already turning towards thoughts of escape. Who did these Yiga guys think they were, kidnapping him off the street? He was the Hero of Winds! How had they even gotten the drop on him?

Wind scowled again and kicked at the floor of the cell. At least he’d been walking around with Four and Wild. Surely one of them would notice he was missing soon. And if not, well, Wind was pretty good at getting out of tight spots if he did say so himself.

No problem.

Wind put his hands on his hips, looking around the dark cell. There was a single tiny torch hung up on the wall, too high for Wind to reach that lit up the skinny space. A stone wall stood at the far end of the cell, but the two sides were open bars, darkness yawning beyond them.

It... kinda made his skin crawl.

Wind crossed his arms, feeling cold all of a sudden, but he shrugged it off with a huff. He needed to figure out how to get out of here, creepy darkness or not. The deep shadows beyond the bars suggested a bigger area, so if he could just find a loose one, he’d be set. Maybe he could even climb up and grab the torch.

Wind walked over to a side, starting at one end and giving each bar a solid shake. They seemed pretty firmly in the ground, but Wind worked his way across anyway, hoping for a loose one. He got all the way through without a single loose bar, and sighed, crossing to the other side to try there instead.

He’d gotten about halfway when he heard something, creaky and quiet.

Wind froze, listening, and the hair on the back of his neck went up as he heard it again. That noise was familiar. He couldn’t place it, but he knew it was familiar.

And that it was bad news.

A low moan came from somewhere in the darkness, and Wind slowly began to back away, nerves all alight. If he could just see he wouldn’t be nearly as nervous. Maybe the darkness was just freaking him out, and he was imagining noises because of that?

A bloodcurdling scream rang out, and Wind’s eyes went huge as a familiar sensation wracked through him, deathly cold and terrifying.

Oh no, he thought in a panic, his feet frozen to the floor, body unable to turn away from the shambling footsteps he could hear. Oh no oh no oh—

A face appeared in the flickering light of the torch, decaying and horrible, eyes glowing. A rotten hand stretched forward and wrapped around the bars, and Wind stared at the Redead, trapped in its unnatural terror.

It didn’t look like his version of them, taller, with a few ragged clothes on its lanky body, but the feeling it left him with was the same, sheer, unnatural terror.

I’ve got to get away, maybe by the door I’ll be far enough it won’t be able to—

A different scream rang out, sending another jolt through Wind’s chest, and he watched in horror as another redead grasped at the bars, reaching out to him, trying to pull him close. Beady eyes stared at him, glowing and malicious with hunger, and Wind might have whimpered if he could move his mouth.

He fought the paralysis as much as he could, but the moment it started to wear off, one of them screamed again, leaving Wind with no escape. More screams joined the first two, and Wind choked on his breath as a whole group of redeads shambled out of the darkness. Screams came near constantly from their lips as they grabbed at the bars and reached through, trying to get at him.

They can’t get through, they can’t get through they can’t hurt you, it’s just to scare you, Wind thought frantically, heart drumming in his chest. They don’t want you to escape that’s why they put them there you’re okay you’re okay you’re okay.

The screams just kept coming, endless and piercing and shooting Wind’s heart through with inescapable terror. He couldn’t even move to cover his ears, and he felt a terrified scream build in his own throat.

But it wouldn’t come out. Wind could only keep standing there, immobilized, tears trailing silently down his cheeks.

It felt like his heart was being encased in ice, frost shooting through his veins with every scream and grazing touch. More screams joined the agonizing chorus from behind him, and the terror felt like it would crush him, repeatedly crashing over him like a freezing wave.

Hands grabbed at him, nails grazing his skin. Wind couldn’t move, the torrential screams hammering at him, cracking him, filling him up with so much terror his mind couldn’t focus on anything else.

His world narrowed down to screams and beady eyes, Wind drowning in terror, eyes darting around wildly, mind screaming every time a hand grazed him.

If he could move he’d be curled up on the ground, but all he could do was stand here and sob in his mind as a deathly cold hand finally closed around his wrist.

Then a different noise rang out over the screams.

It was garbled in Wind’s ears, some sort of talking he couldn’t make out over the redeads’ shrieks. But suddenly music poured into the cell, cheery and bright, and the screaming stopped.

All of it.

Wind’s ears still rang with them, and the terror still pressed over him like a wet blanket, but there was finally silence, and the hand trying to drag Wind closer to the bars had stopped in its efforts, the redead’s mouth stuck open with its teeth bared.

Wind would’ve sobbed if he could move, and he heard footsteps and talking, his ears still ringing too much to make out. Strong arms pulled the hand off his wrist and cradled him to a chest, shouted something at the other sets of footsteps. The song trilled again, bright and warm, and though Wind still couldn’t do much as twitch his pinky, some of his panic eased as he felt a steady heartbeat against where his ear rested.

The others were here.

There must have been a trip out, but Wind missed most of it, still trapped in the lingering screams he could hear in his mind. Tears trickled steadily down his cheeks, and past the unnaturally sharp fear was a flicker of annoyance at crying so much.

But the terror mostly blotted it out.

Sunshine finally fell onto his face, warm and soft, and whoever was holding Wind lowered themselves to a knee. A face looked down at him, and Wind saw Twilight, eyes fearful.

“Hey Wind, you alright?” he asked, and Wind could only stare at him, heart pounding, terror still clenching like a talon around him. “Wind?”

“Is he okay?” someone else asked, and Twilight leaned back, Time and Wild’s faces both coming into view next.

“He’s not responding,” Twilight replied, and Time leaned in, studying Wind’s face with a worried look.

“Wind, can you hear me?” Time asked, setting a hand on his chest.

I can hear you fine, I just can’t move! Wind wanted to scream, but his mouth was still frozen shut. The only thing that he was still able to do was cry, apparently.

Time gently wiped his tears away, and if Wind wasn’t still so terrified, he was sure he’d be embarrassed. “Do we know how long he was down there?”

“An hour, hour and a half? No more than two based on when we started looking,” a voice Wind placed as Wild added anxiously. Oh good, he avoided the trap. “Is that bad?”

“It’s a long time to be around an attacking redead, no less dozens of them like he was,” Time replied, gently tilting Wind’s head around as he looked at it. “Usually the song fixes things, I have no idea why he’s still frozen like this.”

“Prolonged exposure I’d guess,” Four’s voice added, and Twilight’s hand combed gently through his hair. “It might just take him longer to break out of it. He’s so cold...”

“I still can’t believe we lost sight of him like that,” Wild said quietly, and a different hand touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Wind.”

Oh Wild, it’s not your fault, Wind thought, trying to look the champion in the eye and convey the sentiment. I’d tell you so if I could.

Some more footsteps pounded against the grass suddenly, and the amount of voices around Wind doubled, more faces leaning over to look at him, worried questions floating over his head. The other Links had obviously joined the group, and Wind struggled even harder against the paralysis making him nothing but deadweight. But he remained as frozen as ever, a scream still stuck in his throat, ice around his heart.

“Give him space, I’m pretty sure he’s aware of what’s going on and you all are crowding him,” Warriors’ voice chided, and the majority of heads pulled back from his view. The captain’s face appeared in his line of sight, full of worry. “Wind? Can you move anything? Even just something small?”

Wind started at his feet and worked his way upward this time, trying to move anything he could. Fear still thrummed through him, his body on high alert, tears tracking down his cheeks, but he finally managed to twitch his eyelids a little.

“Hey, there we go,” Warriors said with relief in his eyes. “Can you do it again?”

Wind focused, managing another twitch, and almost did a full blink when he tried again. Warriors’ face was still worried, but he looked encouraged by even the tiny movement.

“Here, let me see if this helps some more,” Time said then, and Twilight shifted Wind around in his arms so his head was a little more upright.

Time pulled out his ocarina, purplish blue in the sunshine, and he played the trilling song again, the one Wind finally recognized as the song of passing. Time played it through a couple times, magic falling over Wind like a beam of sunlight. He was surprised the time of day itself didn’t change, but maybe Time was stopping it from doing that somehow.

Suddenly the magic loosened something inside him, the icy terror cracking, thawing a little. Some feeling swept back into his body, and the scream that had been stuck in Wind’s throat this whole time suddenly burst out, loud and terrified.

Time immediately stopped playing, and Wind began to tremble as feeling slowly spread to the rest of him, his scream ending in a hiccup. It felt amazing to finally give voice to the horrible coldness in him, and Wind barely noticed when a thumb brushed along his cheek.

“Wind?” Time asked quietly, and Wind breathed in a shaking breath, firmly blinking tears out of his eyes.

“Th-thank, tha-ank y-you,” he managed get out in a miserable-sounding whimper.

Sighs of relief went up around him, and Time gave Wind a smile, even with the way Wind was shaking and still unable to stop the tears from escaping his eyes.

“You’re welcome Sailor,” Time replied, and brushed a few more of his tears away.

Wind managed a shaky smile back, then relaxed into Twilight’s arms, more and more of the ice in his chest melting away into bright sunshine.

[allmyhomieshatelawns]

AND SOME MORE FOR THE HYPNO POP AU BECAUSE IT WON’T LEAVE ME ALONE EVEN THOUGH MY HANDS ARE SCREAMING IN PAIN BECAUSE THE WEATHER KEEPS SHIFTING LIKE A DICK.

anyway anyway, please enjoy another lil somethin i wrote for @djmurphy ‘s Hypno Pop AU!

“Because I’m happy, clap along if you feel like a room without a roof!” My throat stung with the words, volume rising higher with the lyrics of the song. “Dance along if you feel like that’s what you wanna do!”

Cruel irony that. I certainly didn’t want to, but that isn’t what mattered. The village needed to be happy, we were celebrating nearly twenty years of freedom from the bergens. This was a happy time!!

I continued dancing on the main stage, singing with the rasp that had developed in my voice some years ago. King Peppy said it made me sound more mature and that I should like it. And I do! I love how it sounds nothing like the angelic voice that got—

Don’t falter! I snapped back to attention just in time for the knee slide, grinning despite the harsh impact.

The entire village went wild, several in the crowd fainting, and even more screaming for an encore.

I felt tired, like my bones were crumbling away inside of me, but my smile didn’t falter.

“You guys want more? Alright! This one I’ve been working on for a while now!” My lips and throat moved on their own; I wouldn’t be getting any rest anytime soon. Might as well retreat.

Everything was on autopilot, but thankfully the screaming fans didn’t seem to notice or care. They just wanted more. They always want more. It was so wonderful that they loved my music. I loved making them all so happy!!

“Wow, Branch! I can’t believe you did three encores! Where do you get the energy? I would’ve had to stop after the first one!” Princess Poppy was at my side, practically dragging me off the stage.

I was allowed to sag into her side for a moment, it was close enough to Hug Time, it was fine. But all too soon my strings pulled me away, smiling.

“I can’t say no to my adoring fans!” I grinned, the right side of my mouth gave a violent twitch, cramping from the nonstop use. I turned away so hopefully Princess Poppy wouldn’t notice. She can’t think I’m weird, I’m normal, I’m supposed to be normal!

“Branch?” Princess Poppy’s voice was laced with concern, her hand grabbing my shoulder and spinning me around.

I tried to maintain my grin, feeling the corners twitch uncomfortably against the frames of my glasses. I tugged on my blue puffy vest, nerves trying to rise from my belly but thankfully, as always, halted in their tracks.

“What’s up, Princess Poppy?” I asked, my hands now hanging limp at my side since they weren’t allowed to do anything else.

She made a face at her title like she always did, but her hand tightened on my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is perfect! Why wouldn’t it be?” My mouth said, the words a little too chirpy. “The fans love me, and your celebration is going even better than projected!” That should throw her off, get her talking about the party. Everyone is happy.

It worked like a charm. Princess Poppy beamed at me like I had given her, her favorite dessert.

“Thank you, Branch! This party wouldn’t have been half as successful without you here though! You make every party more fun.” She then began prattling on about the different streamer and glitter bombs she had used this time as opposed to last year. She was so dedicated to keeping the village happy! We were so lucky to have her and King Peppy!

I relaxed, as much as I could, and smiled along. Thankfully it didn’t have to be a big smile, I could soften things for the princess.

Soon enough we were in the area considered backstage, and I expected her to peel off and go back to her friends, but instead, she pulled me into a more private dressing room area. My skin prickled at the privacy. That meant bad things. That meant I wasn’t happy enough.

“Branch, I need you to be real with me here. You’ve been acting kind of… off lately. Are you sure you’re okay?” Princess Poppy looked apologetic as she said it, but I felt the immediate effect.

A scream of pop music resounded in my ears, so loud I thought they would start bleeding. The pounding in my head got worse, like a bergen bashing my head against a tree. Even my muscles started to scream, wanting to cramp and twitch as they were forcibly pulled. I wanted to scream and cry and curl up under the bed in my pod, but I stood there beaming.

“Princess Poppy, I assure you, I’m perfectly fine. Just a little tired from the party tonight. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine.” The words were straight from the string and they hurt, like they were being ripped from me. My voice even went raspier, like there was another voice speaking under mine, but I wasn’t sure if that was from the singing or not. It had been a long time since I had to have the string speak through me. I’m supposed to be better than this. Get it together, Branch. You’re perfectly happy!

Princess Poppy took a step back, a frown pulling down her lips.

No! No! I can fix this please—

“Is everything alright, Poppy? I saw you follow Branch back here.” King Peppy’s voice sent shivers across my body, locking up my joints. King Peppy is here! Oh good he’ll make everything better, like always!!

“Oh! Hey Dad, I was just congratulating Branch on his performance!” Princess Poppy lied to the king! Her face didn’t show any hint of dishonesty though, and I didn’t feel compelled to correct her, that would be rude, so I just nodded along, my smile back to the tight beam that had been on display for everyone tonight. I had worked super hard on it to make it perfect.

He looked between the two of us like he wasn’t sure it was the truth, but merely motioned me forward. I went without hesitation of course, my body still rigid and stiff despite the bounce in my step. I stopped in front of King Peppy, smiling up at him.

“Run along now, my darling. I wanted to talk with Branch about something, you know, guy talk.” King Peppy winked over my head at the princess, causing her to gag and laugh.

“Ew Dad, okay. Alright, Branch, it was awesome talking to you!” She hesitated a moment before giving me a hug, squeezing tighter than normal, like she was afraid of something.

I watched her walk away, my pink-tinted vision clouding her shape the further she got. Like I was drowning alone in suffocating pink mist.

King Peppy’s hand landed on my shoulder heavily, and he sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “I worry about her. I only hope that when it’s her time, she will continue to make the right choices, as I have. Now, come along, Branch. I’ll top you off.”

“Thank you, King Peppy!” I chirped, melting as the string was plucked, and I could just dive back into the haze of my mind. We were having to do this more frequently. It used to be, I could go for a week without having the string played for me, but that time was shortening. I didn’t want to think about what would happen to me should the string stop working altogether. That wasn’t a happy thought, and only happy thoughts were allowed!

[thecroissantwriter]

Thinking about a DCA AU where you and the DCA are all considered mathematical geniuses, so you’re invited to a competition to see who is “the best” and a rivalry starts to fester, both from the competition and from your differing viewpoints.

You’re dedicated. You’re strategic. You’re here to win. And you’re a little overstimulated. Sun is disgusted by you. Moon generally just avoids you unless he has to be around you.

You’re willing to keep your distance… until you all have to be in the same “dorm” together.

[buddiesmutslut]

I have this vision of Eddie, half asleep by Bobby’s bedside, reassuring an equally half asleep Buck who maybe wakes up from a nightmare or something.

Their chairs are side by side, heads tilted together, nearly resting on each other. “Shh, Buck. Go back to sleep baby, ‘s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” Sleepily stroking his hair, and Buck turns into the warmth & comfort, resting his head on Eddie’s shoulder and they fall back to sleep.

They don’t realize it, they barely remember it, with the haze of exhaustion & covered by a dream-like film, neither one of them are even actually sure it happened.

Eddie is now canonically a “baby” user, I want them to be so stupidly soft with each other, after everything going on.

[rawbin-hsr]

Working on something for Ratio <3

[steddie-island]

Six Sentence Sunday✍🏻✍🏻✍🏻

rules: post 6 sentences of an unfinished work and tag 6 people

Thank you @hitlikehammers

This is from “a leg to stand on”, with sex worker Steve and Virgin Eddie (which was supposed to be a standalone PWP thing but this might end up being for something on sub Eddie week we’ll see.)

No pressure tags for @pearynice @wynnyfryd @wormdebut @griefabyss69 @morningberriesao3 @puppy-steve

NSFW below the cut and also more than six sentences because I can. 😌

A light slap to his hip brought him back to the moment, got him out of his head and to where Steve’s fingers were stroking over his cock. 

“Beautiful?” Eddie didn’t mean for it to sound like a question, it was just hard to focus when there was so much happening to his body all at once.

Another light slap, this time to his ass. It was barely enough to sting, just to help ground him before — fuck— those two thick fingers were pushing back into his body. 

“What are you?” Steve asked again. His fingers curled towards Eddie’s prostate at the same time that big hand slid down his cock like it was trying to wring something out of him (Eddie had the briefest thought of duh, that’s exactly what he’s trying to do, dumbass) but he couldn’t ponder on it when Steve’s teeth were on his neck, adding another mouth shaped bruise to his skin.

“I’m— I’m beautiful.” Eddie was shaking, felt like he was going to shake apart if Steve didn’t stop. Or if he did. 

Maybe he would just shake apart into nothing anyway if no one else ever touched him the way Steve was touching him. 

If Steve never touched him this way again. 

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

OK PEOPLE IT’S HAPPENING ‼️‼️‼️‼️ suguru’s phanpara banner drops sometime . tmrw . i have my final uni exam in the morning and then i’m heading straight home to check 🫡🫡 PLS wish me luck (gacha luck not the uni thing idc abt that rn) i’m gonna need it!!!

[cels-not-so-secret-love-affair]

falling to the music pt. 4 (jily)

a/n: we’re back again with jily because i am infested by brainworms. read on for marlene’s introduction, some little glimpses into what’s going on with remus and sirius (they’ll work it out, promise) and jily first kiss(es). p.s: the song the marauders cover is one of the boys by mott the hoople, and it’s a banger.

previous | next

Over the next good few days, the two of them text quite a bit. The habit just slips in, alongside her morning coffee and her nighttime skincare routine. James seems to be completely swamped with uni work, but still makes time for her, messaging her on his lunch breaks and phoning her up from the fruit and veg aisle in his beloved big Tesco’s to ask for her professional opinion on what he should prep for lunches that week. He sends her pictures of him brushing his teeth in his pyjamas at five o’clock in the morning, because he’s insane and likes to get up early, and she sends back photos of the sky in the evenings and her second (or third, or twelfth) latte that day. There’s a lot to learn about James. And, unusually in Lily’s experience, he seems to be equally as curious about her. He wants to know her favourite everything - colour, season, tv show, flower, music decade, sport. Then he wants to know why they’re her favourites, which prompts even more questions. It’s never an interrogation, though. He just wants to know.

Four weeks on from that first blinding meeting at the concert, then, and Lily is tucked up soundly in bed watching Criminal Minds on her laptop when a now-familiar notification lights up her bedside table. It’s James again - she can tell by the text tone. It’s different to her usual one. Instead of the normal chirpy sounding ping it’s a guitar riff, because she’s got a fucking crush.

James: hey lils?

Lily: Hi, James.

James: hello!

James: so i was thinking

James: we’re doing another gig soon, right?

James: and it’s a proper nice venue, i’m really excited about it

James: and i was wondering

James: if maybe you’d sort of almost kind of want to come?

James: you’d get all the friend of the band privileges and stuff, so you could turn up early (if you wanted) for soundcheck

James: and we could get you backstage too

James: oh and you could bring some friends if they’d want to come too

James: and everything would be free of course

James: drinks as well

James: idk, i just thought it would be nice to see each other so

James: is that like something you’d be up for?

Lily: Jamie, sweetheart.

Lily: I’ve been trying to send the word ‘yes’ since about six messages ago.

James: oh!

James: okay well yay!!

James: i’ll go grab the details and send them over then?

Lily: That’d be great :)

James: oh my god

Lily: What?

James: you just used a smiley face

Lily: Yeah? What’s wrong?

James: nothings wrong it’s just like

James: lily evans of proper punctuation and capital letters fame just used a smiley face

James: you would not believe how hard i am punching the air rn

James: i’m rubbing off on you ;)

Lily: Maybe so ;)

Lily: You two need to stage an intervention for me.

Marlene: hi lilsss

Marlene: bit extreme

Marlene: what are we supposed to be putting a stop to exactly?

Lily: Heterosexuality.

Marlene: oh okay in which case yes you’re correct and i am totally game

Mary: are we talking about james again x

Mary: lily sweetheart, you’re down bad 💗

Lily: I know, it’s awful.

Lily: However, would the two of you like to go out Friday night?

Marlene: fuck yes

Marlene: life is kicking my arse i need to get DRUNK

Marlene: tell me a time and place and i’m there

Mary: i’m free! x

Lily: Perfect!

Mary: where are we going? x

Lily: Right.

Lily: Promise you won’t take the piss.

Marlene: physically impossible, that

Marlene: but carry on

Lily: I may have just invited you to James’ next gig.

Mary: oh babes x

Mary: well at least it’s another chance for me to get a proper look at him

Mary: make sure he’s good enough for you 💋 

Marlene: tbf if there’s music and alcohol i’m happy

Marlene: and sure i’m curious about this guy and his band

Marlene: no piss taken on my end

Marlene: this time, we’ll see what i have to say once i’ve actually seen the bloke

Lily: I don’t deserve your kindness.

Friday whips around like a bullet, and before she’s even registered it Lily’s waiting anxiously outside of the venue in the cold, all dolled up and feeling vaguely nauseous. It’s not that she’s worried - Lily Evans is a confident woman, always has been and always will. A man is not about to muck that up for her. But he hasn’t responded to her text saying she’s there yet, and her friends are about to meet him, and it’s only her second fucking time seeing him in person which doesn't feel correct at all but that’s how it is apparently and blimey why is it so cold? But then she can hear a voice she’s most used to hearing over the phone, and suddenly things just seem to quiet.

‘Lily!’, comes James’ delighted cry as he jogs towards her from around the corner. His hair is messy as ever, and his eyes are creased up in that big beaming grin he wears so easily. Stopping in front of her rather breathlessly, he suddenly becomes awkward, hands fidgeting.

‘Sorry, I- I’m just realising we haven’t really, uh, done this… Could I give you a hug? Is that okay?’ Lily laughs, somewhat reassured by his obvious nervousness.

‘Sure, James. I’d like that.’ He pulls her into his arms then, and God she could just melt. He’s got the same cologne on from when they first met which of course means he smells practically edible, and his arms are strong and warm and comforting, and yeah, she could get used to this. But then he’s pulling away, and the cold that she had temporarily forgotten about begins to seep back into her bones with his absence.

‘Will you introduce me to your friends?’

‘Oh, yeah, sorry. Uh, James, this is Mary, Mary, James.’ James offers his hand to Mary, who shakes it and smiles appraisingly. ‘And then this is Marlene.’

‘Nice to meet you, Potter. I’ve heard a lot about you.’

‘Nothing too bad, I hope?’, James laughs, leaning across to greet Marlene too.

‘Well, we’ll see,’ she replies, returning the handshake with a strong grip.

James takes them in through the side door - ‘Alright, Sean? Yeah, these girls are with me, thanks man’ - and through to where the rest of the band are hanging out. Sirius is laying with his head in Remus’ lap (whose long legs are dangling off the edge of the stage), staring idly at the ceiling and speaking softly so that Remus has to lean down to listen to him. They make a complimentary pair, and seem very at ease with each other. Peter meanwhile is sat behind his drum kit texting furiously, but he looks up when he hears them arrive.

‘Hiya James, hiya Lily! Hiya Lily’s friends!’

‘Dezzie still breathing, Wormy?’ Peter looks slightly shy, but nods anyways.

‘Yeah, she’s doing good.’

‘Glad to hear it! Come say hello, won’t you?’

‘Two ticks!’

‘Sorry guys, bloody impolite this lot.’ James smiles ruefully at the girls. ‘Oi Pads, Moons! Get off your arses and talk to our guests!’ At this, Sirius and Remus look up from where they’re sat together in the corner, pulled forcibly out of their conversation and back into the room.

‘Hey, it’s Magdalene!’, Sirius grins, scrambling up quickly and bounding over to them. He winks at Mary as he says hello to her, then turns to Marlene, but is interrupted just as he begins to speak.

‘Lesbian, mate. Don’t try it.’

‘Ah. Duly noted. Nice hair! Now, Mary, darling…’ Remus, looking slightly hurt after having been abandoned, hauls himself up to his feet and comes to greet them too. He introduces himself to Lily and Marlene (since Mary is in the middle of being distracted) and Lily realises with some surprise that it’s the first time she’s hearing him speak. He’s quite quiet, with a singsong sort of accent and nice clear vowels. She shakes his hand warmly and is reminded of her impression of him when he was playing his solo. Then Peter finds it within himself to put his phone away and also joins them in conversation. He’s somewhat awkward, looking to James whenever his voice falters, but Marlene asks him a few questions about the band and he begins to chat quite earnestly. James beams delightedly and leans in to speak in a low voice into Lily’s ear.

‘Your friends are nice.’

‘Yours aren’t half bad.’

‘It’s good to see you, you know. You look lovely.’

‘Thank you, Jamie. It’s good to see you too.’

The venue starts to fill up with the rest of the crowd about a half an hour later, and the girls are front row. It’s really exciting, actually. There’s that sort of pre-concert buzz in the air, the low thrum of anticipation that underscores the chatter and the indie rock music playing faintly in the background whilst people buy drinks. A few girls just behind Lily are scrolling through The Marauders’ Instagram page, the glow of their phones lighting up bright, curious faces in the dimmed room. It’s clear that they don’t really know the band, but as they look through their posts a sort of running commentary starts up. One girl likes Sirius, which of course she does, and speculates rather loudly and inappropriately about the possibility of fucking him. Another protests at this, declaring that James is clearly the hotter of the two - ‘Look at that man in this photo and tell me he isn’t fit as anything!’, she says, passing her phone over and wiggling her eyebrows. Lily smirks quietly to herself. Yes, he’s fit, she thinks. And he wants me. The feeling brings a slight heat up to her cheeks.

Her thoughts are soon interrupted by a round of applause as the boys take their places on stage, Sirius leading them on. There’s a short moment of fidgeting with leads and adjusting guitar straps, before Peter raises his drumsticks in the air and looks to Sirius for his approval. All is quiet. Sirius nods, almost imperceptibly. The sound of the sticks rings out into the hush of the room for four clear counts. Then, all hell breaks loose.

The concert is insane, to put it lightly. By the time it’s over, Lily reckons she’s sweated off about six litres of water, her mascara is slightly smudged underneath her eyes and her feet are killing her. There’s a dull ache in the back of her head that won’t go away and she’s painfully aware of the fact that she’s scheduled a nine am study session with Alice for tomorrow. She wouldn’t change a thing. When the worst of the crowd has dispersed, their excited conversation and loud peals of laughter drifting out of the room, she checks in with Mary and Marlene before beginning to head round to the side door. Both report that they thoroughly enjoyed themselves, with Mary gushing enthusiastically about The Marauders’ cover of ‘One of the Boys’ and Marlene conceding that yes, they were quite good actually. Lily smiles giddily at having earnt her seal of approval, mentally congratulating James for passing the test. It’s cold when they get outside. The night is sweeping and gorgeous as they step out into the street, all bright lights and rushing cars, and there’s a sort of breathless exhilaration in being at the centre of it.

Lily’s just about to knock when the door is pulled quickly open from the other side. The sudden absence of it surprises her, and she loses her balance somewhat, which sends her stumbling forwards a few paces. Stumbling straight into James, as it happens.

‘Hey, steady on, mate- oh. It’s you!’ Lily rights herself quickly, startled, and blinks rapidly at him, the tops of her ears tinged ever so slightly pink. James looks down at her rather fondly and cracks a broad, easy grin.

‘Sorry Lily. I didn’t mean to give you a fright! I thought you’d be, y’know. Further away.’

‘Don’t worry, just a bit… unexpected, is all. You were amazing tonight.’

‘Thank you! I tried to look in your direction as much as I could, but I think I lost track of you towards the end a bit. Did you have a good time?’ He directs the last part to the group, peering over Lily’s head at Mary and Marlene and raising a hand to wave at them good-naturedly. This seems to suddenly make Lily aware of their proximity, as she moves back a bit to join ranks with her friends.

‘Yes, thanks,’ nods Marlene, in response to his question. ‘You guys aren’t half bad.’

‘Cheers, that means a lot.’

‘Will Sirius be coming out?’, Mary inquires. Lily shoots her a look, but she simply shrugs her shoulders and waits unabashedly for a response. James becomes awkward.

‘No, sorry, I don’t think so. He’s a bit, uh… occupied.’

‘He’s snogging Remus,’ yells a disembodied voice from beyond the doorway. It soon reveals itself to be Peter, who claps a hand on James’ shoulder and acknowledges the girls with a quick smile. ‘Quite thoroughly, actually’, he adds, matter-of-factly.

‘Oh. I didn’t know those two were an item,’ says Mary, looking a bit put out. James sighs, and rubs a hand across his forehead.

‘They’re not together, technically, it’s- it’s complicated. Did you really have to rat them out like that, Wormtail?’

‘It’s in the name, Prongsie-boy, it’s in the name.’

‘Yeah, well, anyways. Forget that. How are you ladies getting home? D’you need a lift?’

‘No, thank you, Jamie,’ Lily replies. ‘We can make our own way home just fine.’

‘You sure? I really wouldn’t mind, it would be my pleasure.’

‘The bloke’s offering, Lils. May as well take him up on it - especially if it’s a pleasure,’ presses Marlene, arching an eyebrow and smirking at her in a way that few would consider subtle. Lily pokes her tongue out back, but relents.

‘I mean, it would be useful, so long as you’re absolutely sure it’s no trouble.’

James’ car is nice; the kind of nice where you’re scared of getting in with mud on your shoes and it appears whoever designed it had an intense phobia of colours and non-curved objects. Heated-seats-nice. That bit’s pretty bloody lovely, to be fair. James, however, doesn’t seem to notice that it’s nice, and flops into the driver’s seat without a care in the world, slamming the car door and swivelling round in his seat to grin at the girls.

‘Chauffeur James, at your service. Where are we going?’

They drop off Mary first, since her house is pretty much on the way to Marlene and Lily’s. She thanks James for the ride, says her goodbyes to both her friends and disappears through the front door with a flurry of shouts about meeting up again soon as she blows giggling kisses over her shoulder. James’ eyes crease up amusedly as he watches her go. Then Lily taps her and Marlene’s address into the sat nav, and off they go again, cruising steadily past streetlights and takeaway places. Inside the car is pleasantly warm and the world outside seems to dissolve into a dreamy blur of softened shapes and colours. It’s nicer than public transport, Lily is forced to admit to herself. She watches James’ relaxed manner as he drives, smiles sleepily to herself and enjoys the soft, safe feeling that has begun to cradle her chest. Home comes far too quickly.

‘Here we are,’ James announces rather uselessly to the inhabitants of the house he’s just pulled up in front of. ‘Give me a minute, I’ll come round and open the door for you guys.’ He does as much, and Lily and Marlene get out, forced to sacrifice the warmth of the car for the brisk chill of the night outside it. Lily is distantly aware that this is her cue to say goodbye and go inside. This understanding hasn’t seemed to translate to her limbs just yet though, because she’s making no effort to actually walk towards the door. Marlene looks at her friend, then at James - who’s practically her mirror image opposite her - then sighs in a way that suggests she’s tired of being stuck in the middle of them.

‘I’ll be in my room if you need me, Lils. Have fun… standing.’ Lily blinks, then nods slowly.

‘Sure. I won’t be long.’

‘Yeah, okay. Thank you, James, for the lift and the night out. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you again so, until then.’ Marlene waves at him, and departs.

‘So. This is your house. This is where we… part ways for the night, yeah?’ James says once she’s gone. He’s looking at Lily with big eyes like a rather mournful puppy, which is a fairly accurate representation of how she feels about having to say goodbye too.

‘I guess. We can chat for a bit though, can’t we? I know I’ve been watching you on stage all night, but I feel like I haven’t really seen you.’

‘Sure, yes, perfect, love that. Chatting. Hi!’ Lily covers a laugh with her hand and looks down at her feet.

‘Hello, Jamie,’ she replies, composing herself just enough to look him in the eyes again. Her cheeks ache from smiling.

‘You know you’re one of three people in my life to call me that?’

‘Am I really?’

‘Mhmm. It used to be just Sirius and my mum, but now it’s Sirius, my mum and… you. It’s weird.’

‘Should I stop?’

‘No, no, absolutely not. I like it. I like being Jamie to you.’ James’ voice is soft and shy.

‘Okay.’ Lily stares at him again awkwardly, lost for what to say to prolong the conversation but still not wanting to leave just yet. They’re both just smiling at each other quietly like giddy children.

‘Oh, you know what? To hell with it!’, Lily says suddenly. Then, with a business like tone and all in one breath: ‘James Potter, I have had a very nice evening and I think I should like to be kissed goodnight to round it off. Do you feel the same?’ James’ eyes widen a fraction as he processes, then flick to her lips. He takes a step closer, closing the gap that Marlene’s departure created, and brings a gentle hand up to cup her face.

‘Yes. Yes, I think I do,’ he says, before tilting his head and leaning in to kiss her sweetly. It’s a short kiss, tentative and caring, but when they pull apart he’s breathless from nerves. Lily grins at him.

‘Alright there?’

‘Yeah, uh… yeah. Glasses.’

‘What about them?’, asks Lily teasingly.

‘Not very conducive to kissing you properly.’

‘Well, we can’t have that. Kissing me properly is very important. Want me to take them off for you?’

‘Yeah. Yes, please. God, my brain’s gone to mush.’

‘I sometimes have that effect.’ Laughing, she removes James’ glasses, taking care not to poke him, and folds them shut. ‘That better?’

‘Much,’ James affirms, wrapping his free arm around her waist and pulling her into another kiss, this time deeper and more confident. Lily hums with approval, and reaches up to tangle her hands in his hair. Making out with James exceeds expectations, she finds, and a dizzying euphoria takes over her as he walks her backwards so that she’s up against the car. The two of them get lost in each other for a while. They fit easily together, exploring and enjoying each other with pleasant curiosity. James treats her tenderly, going slow and generally following her lead. Lily, for her part, has been thinking about this ever since James first got up on that damned stage, and very much intends to make the most of it. But then he’s hesitating, and breaking away from her, which is bloody unfair because they were just getting started, and he’d better have a good reason for this because all she really wants to do right now is to continue snogging him senseless. She leans back against the cool metal of the car with her arms crossed and peers at him inquiringly.

‘Lils… don’t get me wrong, this is like the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I am absolutely on cloud nine right now… but it’s, uh, it’s late. You told Marlene you wouldn’t be long, and I don’t want her to worry or anything. I’m sorry.’ Lily stares up at him and his sweet, sincere little face and finds herself simultaneously irked and endeared by him. Ugh. Curse him and his gentlemanly ways.

‘Yeah, that is true. God, you’re too nice for your own good. If you didn’t remind me about that we could have fucked in your car.’ James’ mouth falls open with a flustered expression. Lily snorts. ‘It’s fine, you can just dream of me for the time being. Save the sex for another day.’

‘Wow. Um, okay. You know Lily, you don’t make it easy for respectable blokes like me.’

‘That’s ‘cause it’s more fun,’ she giggles cheekily, tapping him on the nose. ‘Right. I’ll be off then. Thank you for my goodnight kiss - or kisses, actually - and text me when you’re home, okay Jamie?’

‘Of course. Goodnight, Lily Evans.’

‘Goodnight.’

[quietwingsinthesky]

my plan rn is 1) finish syndicate, 2) finish and post the two evie/henry/jacob fics i started, and then 3) play through ac1

[demigod-shenanigans]

Writing is really funny because I just wrote a bunch of this stuff to be background info in the planning doc and planned to do like a flashback or two, then instead wrote five chapters of it, and it’s only now biting me in the ass because chapter six absolutely worked much better content-wise when it was just a flashback/brief mention instead of a whole chapter

[fruit-teeth]

A Letting Go (chapter 1: The Woman)

(HEY EVERYONE LOOK AT ME I STARTED A NEW FIC!! This was an idea I had actually before the last comic even dropped, but I had a hard time figuring out how I was going to execute it. Last night, though, I had a very rough time sleeping but one of good thing that came out of that was I suddenly figured out how I could make this story work. This is gonna be a multi chapter probably so if you like it lemme knowwww okay pls enjoy)

—————

Over the years, Flo had grown to look forward to the yearly talk with Dell the day following New Year's Day. This year, it was over the phone and not in person, but Flo didn’t mind at all. No matter what, she was always anchored by the sound of his voice and his easygoing talk.

“So, how are all the kids?” She asked, one hand gripping the phone while the other stirred some creamer into her mug of coffee.

Dell chuckled. “They’re great! God, they’re so much fun, I love getting to spend time with all of them during the holidays! I hope we’ll be able to get together during Easter, too, that’d be a fun time,”

Flo smiled to herself, bringing up the coffee mug to sip at it. “Yeah, I bet that would be fun. I could see Jeremy putting together an Easter egg hunt or something — has he done that before? You should suggest that to him,”

“He’s done everything with those kids, wouldn’t surprise me if he has,” Dell pointed out. He paused for a moment, and then remarked, “We missed you this year, you know. Will we see you next year? Or at Easter, maybe?”

“I…” she trailed off, gripping the handle of her mug. “Maybe. I don’t know, I’ll see what my schedule looks like.”

“Uh-huh,” Dell took this in. “Y’know…you don’t need to keep yourself busy all the time. Not anymore, right?”

Flo sighed, setting the mug down on the table. “I know…it’s just…not doing much makes me feel antsy. I dunno, I don’t like to stay still.”

“Yeah, I feel that,” Dell agreed. “But wouldn’t you like to take some time away? The world won’t fall apart if you take a break.”

“Look, I know, and I appreciate you caring,” Flo assured him. “But those ladies need me. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one at that damn shelter who actually wants to help them…”

Dell hummed. “You’re a sweetie, Flo, but I doubt that’s the case. From what it sounds like, it’s a great place. You’re important too, you know that?”

Tears pricked at Flo’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. “Yeah, I know,” she managed to say, trying to keep her voice even. “Thanks, Engie.”

“No problem, Miss P,” he replied. “I won’t keep you any longer — when did you say your shift started?”

Flo checked the clock on the wall. “In an hour, but I haven’t showered yet. I woke up kinda late,”

“Ya better get to it, then!” Dell laughed. “I’ll say hi to everyone for you, hope we can meet up soon!”

“Me too!” Flo agreed.

When the call ended, she sat at the table in silence for a long moment, eyes fixated on her cup of coffee. She eventually picked it up and drank the last of the liquid before getting up to head to the shower.

Three of her coworkers were already standing in the break room, chatting about something, when Flo arrived for her shift at the Lady of Mercy Women's Shelter. Flo couldn't resist listening to the other women as she poured herself a cup of water from the water cooler in the corner.

“She really hasn’t said a word since last night?” Nicole asked, astounded.

“Nope, not a single one!” Michelle affirmed. “I thought she was Deaf, but she got a quick checkup from the nurses and they said her ears seem fine. She’s probably mute or something,”

Flo turned around, taking a step closer to the group, intrigued by what she was hearing. Michelle continued talking.

“We suspected she had fled from an asylum, but she has no ID and there are no missing people who match her description! It’s so weird, it’s like she just came out of nowhere…”

“Who are you talking about?” Flo spoke up, stopping the gossip in its tracks.

“Flo, hi!” Michelle greeted her with a grin, turning to meet her gaze. Her teeth were so white they hurt to look at. “I’m just telling them about what the night shift people said happened last night,”

“The police brought in a random lady!” Theresa spoke up. “I guess they just found her wandering in the woods, didn’t know what to do with her, so they just dumped her here with us.”

Flo’s heart sank at hearing that. “Oh, that’s terrible. Is she still here?”

“Yeah, she’s in a separate room,” Nicole confirmed. “I saw her — I can’t tell how old she is, probably in her fifties? I tried to talk to her but she just stared at me! It was creepy…”

Flo started to say something about Nicole calling a homeless woman "creepy," but the door suddenly opened.

“Don’t you all have somewhere to be?” Regina Gardener, the head of staff, called out to them. “We got some ladies in need of blankets, who’s in charge of laundry?”

“That’d be me!” Theresa bounced away from the group.

As the rest of her colleagues scattered off to start their day tasks, Flo completed her water cup and tossed it in the garbage. Her heart ached for the woman, and her thoughts kept returning to her. She would have to visit her; perhaps she might learn something from her.

Yet Flo didn’t come across the woman at all during her morning rounds. She gathered lost objects to place in the lost and found bin, assisted with changing bed linens, and took the opportunity to sit and chat with a few women. All of this was routine for her by now, so she figured she’d come across the new woman at some point.

When Flo finally saw her, it was in the cafeteria. While on lunch duty, she walked past one of the tables and heard another employee talking.

It was Tasha, and she was saying, “Look, honey, you’re gonna have to communicate with us somehow. You know sign language? Charades? Can you at least write something down?”

Flo looked to the table and saw Tasha pushing a pencil and a piece of loose leaf paper toward the woman. The woman just stared silently at the paper and pencil, staying completely still. Flo could only see the back of the woman’s head from where she was standing, but she could see just how messy her hair was. It looked like she hadn’t bathed in ages.

As it was clear that Tasha was becoming frustrated with the lack of response, Flo decided to step in. “Hey, Tasha! How’s it going over here?”

Tasha scoffed. “She won’t say a word! I’ve been trying all day, she just sits and stares! She can hear just fine from what I heard, so I don’t know what the issue is.”

Flo pulled up a chair, joining the two at the table. “Well, let me try!” She cleared her throat, saying, “Hi, ma’am! You can call me Miss Pauling,” she gestured to her name tag. “Can you tell me your name?”

The woman stayed silent, but after a second or two, she turned to look at Flo. Instantly, Flo felt her heart drop into her stomach at the face she saw staring back at her. It was a face she knew all too well, and one she thought she would never see again…yet here she was.

“Helen?” Flo managed to ask, dread and confusion filling her instantly. A million questions raced through her mind, but she was too stunned to ask any of them.

Tasha’s brow furrowed. “What? Flo, do you know her?”

Helen just stared back, still saying nothing. The blank expression on her face was somehow the most terrifying thing Flo had seen in years.

Flo found her voice after a moment. “I need a minute,” she managed to say, rising to her feet and staggering out of the cafeteria.

“What the hell? Flo!” Tasha called after her, but Flo didn’t turn back.

She made it to the staff bathrooms, where she hid inside one of the stalls and bolted the door shut. She tried to catch her breath, shaking like a leaf as she pressed her face against the wall.

“There’s no way I just saw that,” she said out loud to no one. She rubbed her eyes a few times — maybe she was just tired. Her eyes could be playing tricks on her. After all, a lot of middle-aged women at the shelter reminded her of Helen, why should this one be different?

But it had to be her. Something about the blank expression in her eyes shook her to her core in a way nothing else had in recent years.

If it was Helen…how? How on earth would that be possible?

Flo’s thoughts were interrupted by the bathroom door opening. A pair of feet shuffled in, and Flo knew instantly that it was Michelle.

“Michelle?” Flo opened the stall door, voice trembling.

Michelle stood over the sink, frantically scrubbing a stain out of her blouse. “Out of all of the days I had to spill jello on myself, it just had to be the day I was wearing my mom’s white blouse, wasn’t it?!” Michelle ranted to no one. She spotted Flo’s reflection in the mirror, though, and paused what she was doing to turn around. “Flo? Jesus, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Flo stepped further out of the stall, brushing her hair away from her eyes. “I think I have,” she swallowed, wringing her hands. “Hey: what else do you know about that woman? The one with no ID?”

“Well…” Michelle leaned against the sink. “The police searched through the files of missing people and found nothing, then they ran her fingerprints and were unable to find a match. Oh, and they also couldn’t figure out where her clothes came from! She was wearing some weird dress, we had to throw it out because it was so dirty. That’s all I know. Why do you ask?”

“Because…” Flo took a breath. “I-I think I know her,” she closed her eyes, trying to think of how she was going to go about explaining this to Michelle. “See, before I took a job here—,”

As it turned out, Michelle wasn’t interested in knowing the backstory. “Oh, my gosh! Flo, you know her?! This is great! Does she have any family you can call? Maybe they can come get her!”

Flo’s voice faltered. “She…doesn’t have any family.”

Michelle’s face fell. “No siblings?”

“No.”

“No husband?”

“Nope.”

“No kids?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

Michelle processed this. “Goddamn…she’s alone! Wow. That’s…fucked up.”

Flo stared at the floor. “Yeah,” was all she could say. ‘Fucked up’ didn’t even begin to cover it.

A pause passed between them, before Michelle suggested, “If you know her, maybe you could take her in for a while!”

Flo’s head popped back up. “What?!”

Michelle went on, "Maybe being around all these people is stressing her out; she could fare better in a quieter environment! Can you take her in?"

“I don’t…” Flo started to disagree, but she stopped herself.

If this, somehow, was actually Helen…this could be some kind of front she was putting on. If they got alone together, without all these people around, that front might drop. Despite her desire to leave that chapter of her life behind, Flo couldn't help but feel as if a fresh door had suddenly opened for her. What lay on the other side of that door was anyone’s guess.

“Okay,” she managed to say, taking in another long breath. “Let me just…see if Regina will let me take her.”