#THE PLACE THAT SHUT DOWN LAST MONTH BECAUSE IT WAS OUT OF MONEY?? THAT PLACE????? YEAH I LIKED IT TOO

[variousqueerthings]

u know having done a fair bit of volunteering and organising, i do think. that sometimes. if you want something to be better within your specific community, especially marginalised communities. you have to step up and be involved in it. complaining about something being too small or not having the organisational backbone or not offering enough services, etcetc. i can guarantee that a large amount of the time you are looking at like 2-6 people who are doing all of this work for free (who are often spending their own money that they may not have a lot of) to make something happen and they only have the time and the energy and the ability that they have and if something has to pivot last minute, they will not have the financial and networking support to simply shift into another gear. these are the resources that exist, we can only do what they allow

every single event and charity and support service ive been involved in, somebody has complained -- about this space being smaller than the last space, about that being further away than it used to be, about something taking too long, or x resources not existing, ive had trans people show up to a trans community event 30mins before it was open and complain that it was badly organised because nobody let them in, ive had people say they demand more of this or that or less of that and this, this kind of group, that kind of event. and those people have always been people who are benefiting from these spaces and are not giving back to those spaces. they only think about what they're owed, not about what they owe in return, what their own responsibilities are

not everyone can be an organiser, but trust that there is always something that can be done to take the weight off of especially a smaller organisation that has come out of a need. and if you're not helping to carry some of that weight, do not complain, because those 2-6 people who are spending so much time and energy and money and soul on creating something that you are gaining from are closer to quitting than you might think and then who's gonna carry it? the people who were spending all their time complaining and doing nothing? good luck. hope people don't complain

tbh a lot of the time it's even enough to just go to your local community events and acknowledge the hard work put into them. we need people to come to them so we can keep doing them -- often you'll organise something that there is a wish for and people will treat it as more of a "ah well if i feel like it on the day" type thing than a community responsibility, part of what you're giving back in this contract. your tiny local pride could get 10 people or it could get 100 people there and its future funds may depend on the number. your community political meeting cannot organise without people there showing that they care. this panel or arts or research event is for you and it's also for you to give a shit about

but also. volunteer. and don't complain if you're not there with a solution and a hand. step up for your community on a local level

[suguann]

✎. you've been on the run for a while. you knew someone would come eventually—but not him.

tags. fem!reader, old west era, bounty hunter simon, size difference, size kink, implied the reader's husband is a terrible human, accidental voyeurism, period-typical sexism, masturbation [18+ only]

masterlist

You’ve been running for months, first from your husband (the phantom grip of his hand still sending an ache through your wrist) and now as a wanted conwoman for stealing the clothes from an unsuspecting cowpoke who thought he was getting lucky. You can only imagine what Mama would say about trading your ruffled skirts for grass-stained trousers and boiled-leather suspenders.

(It’s unbecoming of a respectable woman, dear. Uncouth.)

She’d probably have a lot to say if she knew everything you’ve done to survive.

You hop from one place to the next only by the mere chance someone was willing to let a helpless woman accompany them on their travels. Nearly a month has passed since being stranded in a dusty old mining town after a man and his wife dump you off and leave you behind. Washoe’s a little gritty and not welcoming unless there’s money to spend.

It’s not exactly safe, not unsafe, either, but nobody asks questions as long as you keep your head down and play the part of a mourning widow just passing through.

You know you’ve overextended your stay when you can’t leave your room during the day without worrying about a noose and the open end of a barrel meeting you outside. 

(That your husband or that gun-waving cowpoke finally found you.)

Sleep practically clings to you like a second skin, but you don’t dare close your eyes—you can’t.

This is how you end up sitting in the corner of the saloon, using the last of whatever you have in your change purse to order something strong, something your husband kept locked away, and anything else he thought women shouldn’t have a part in. 

You don’t even realize that your eyelids begin to feel heavy, steadily blurring out the flickering lantern on the wall while you wait for your drink. 

You catch yourself once or twice before your head can hit the table, rapidly blinking away the exhaustion before your eyes slide to the swinging doors.

You should stay awake. 

You need to stay awake just a little bit longer—

Your luck runs out that day. 

It’s one thing to know it’d happen eventually, and something else to realize that you make it easy for him—the man with an infamous name and a faded black bandana covering half his face—how he walked into the saloon and scooped you up (all unladylike sleepy dead weight) out of the weathered booth without a fight.

When you’d woken up to find yourself trussed up and thrown over the back of his horse, you cursed him out with every word you could think of that would make Mama clutch her skirts. Your captor ignored you, only talking to you whenever he warned you he was about to set up camp. 

“Did my husband send you?” Acknowledging him after all this time tasted like pennies on your tongue.

The man, Simon Riley, had leaned back against his bedroll and tipped the brim of his hat over his eyes. “Go the fuck to sleep.”

That was several weeks ago. 

Now, you find yourself stranded in another state that’s more green and vibrant than anything you’re familiar with, stuck with a man who refuses to answer the questions you throw at him. He doesn’t talk outside a few cursory words you greedily latch onto. Anything’s better than silence and the sound of hooves hitting earth. 

The pace he keeps you at is exhausting. You complain about it enough until he moves you in front of him, tying your hands to the saddle's horn.

“I would strongly advise you to shut that mouth for the rest of the ride unless you want me to do something about that, too.” The low growl of his voice in your ear makes the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand up, muddling your brain.

You’re distantly aware you had something to say to that, but you don’t. 

And that is really saying something.

It’s because there’s someone he needs to meet in town—an errand that lawbreakers who run their mouths aren’t allowed to go on.

This is how you end up sitting in camp alone, twirling around a knife he gave you solely for emergencies. 

(Surprise, sharp and quick through your middle, when he tosses his pocket knife into the grass beside you. “What’s to stop me from leaving?”

You could’ve sworn he rolled his eyes. “Will you?”

It doesn’t seem worth dignifying with a reply. You don’t want to travel alone, and there’s a high possibility of getting lost, finding yourself saddled up with worse company than the one you’re stuck with.

Until he evidently catches you again.)

He’s a lot nicer than you first gave him credit for—if only by a fraction—not that you know much about Simon other than what you overheard from gossip circles before you became Mrs. Thornton. Afternoons spent sipping tea laden with honey and lounging around a table full of cakes in the sun parlor while wealthy women talked behind their lace-covered hands to hide secret smiles you were too naive to understand. 

Trying not to stare at the bulge of his arms with thin pink scars—unlike the men you’re used to who got through life with a silver spoon hanging from their mouth—as he places his saddle back on his horse, you think you finally know what they smiled about.

You learn those scars also litter his torso from the time you accidentally walked upon him mid-way through putting his trousers on after washing in the river. It’d been too dark for you to see much else, and you quickly returned to camp before he could say something that would embarrass you both. 

Then, of course, tucked away into your bedroll, you can’t help wondering what the rest of him would have looked like if you had stayed a second longer. 

If his jaw is sharp or soft behind that mask he insists on wearing—that’s if he’d let you see at all. 

Simon’s always so serious that it’s often hard to determine whether he’s merely tolerating your existence until he can get rid of you or if he’s unused to traveling accompanied for so long. It’s not as if he goes out of his way to make pleasant conversation with you for you to assume otherwise.

You look off in the direction where he disappeared into the dense line of trees hours ago, wondering if you should go out looking for him (mainly because you’re hot and sticky from the humidity) despite his order to stay put. 

But after four hours turns into five, you head off, searching for something to help cool you off.

Luckily, unlike the heavily eroded lands you’re used to, there isn’t any water shortage in a place that sees rain three times a day, so it doesn’t take long to find a lake. You set your knife down on the stone-covered beach, followed by your boots, until you’re left in nothing but your undergarments. 

The water is icy cold and laps gently at your feet when you step in. You can’t find it in you to complain as the heat from the day slowly washes away the further you walk in and find a wide ledge to sit on. 

Your thoughts drift back to Simon, incessant and intruding even though you shouldn’t be thinking about him while wet and naked. And suddenly, you can picture it: his hands replacing yours as they trace along your neck. You have a feeling they’re probably rough and scarred from years of living hard and gunslinging, extracting the readily available knowledge that they’re big enough to encase your waist.

He could maneuver you around however he wants (you know this), and you feel dizzy just thinking about it.

Sighing, you sink deeper into the water while your hands smooth over the tips of your breasts and down your stomach. 

You wish you could see him without violating whatever personal preservations hide him from the rest of the world. Instead, you’re left with your imagination—the benefits of being a married woman and the little experience you have in the bedroom finally coming into play. 

Closing your eyes, you picture what he might look like under those sun-weathered leathers, knowing that the broadness of his shoulders isn’t only due to his vest and holsters but also from how his job has shaped him.

Your hands travel lower, fingers brushing through the creamy, soft wetness between your legs, evidence of what Simon does to you even when he’s not around. A moan, too high and breathy, slips past your lips as you use your middle finger to circle your clit in slow, clumsy swirls from lack of practice and patience that spreads warmth through your middle despite the cold water. 

It’s good, your fingers discovering places your husband always ignored—too many nights spent with your hand under your nightgown long after he’d tucked his cock away and gone to sleep—but probably don’t compare to the ones you’ve caught yourself staring at far too many times. 

They don’t fill you nearly enough, unlike how you know Simon’s would—thick and unrelenting. Rough and long, reaching deep enough to make you breathless.

Your breath hitches from pinching the tight, sensitive peak of your nipple until you feel a slight sting, and then it slips out, a tiny thing that’s only audible to your ears—Simon—a secret you now share with the lightning bugs and crickets.

“Dirty, no good rotten—” he’d tell you for thinking such lewd thoughts about him, for sinning so easily. Maybe you are, for getting so worked up over a man who isn’t your husband (no matter how terrible a husband he may be).

A man who’s so big that he makes you feel small, the type that gives before he takes. It’s enough to make you work your hand faster—your body vibrating from the chill of the water and the ache between your trembling thighs.  

Fantasies aren’t enough to sate the deep longing in your chest. Yet you’re slipping over the edge of ecstasy before taking your next breath—all of it builds up and gradually crests inside you like the lake rippling against the shore.

Afterward, it leaves you feeling soft and blurred around the edges, a watercolor painting drying under the sun while you wait for your rapid heartbeat to slow.

You don’t realize your eyes have fallen shut until they flutter open, and you’re startled to find Simon standing at the shoreline, his chest heaving as if he ran here. 

(Though he probably did to see if you took the opportunity to leave.)

You’re glued to your spot on the rock, suddenly struck with the mortifying realization that he’d seen you come—that he possibly heard you cry out his name so intimately.

You watch him remove his hat and hang it on a branch with wide eyes. Followed by his undershirt, guns, and—

He keeps removing clothes until he’s completely naked on the shore—aside from his face that stays hidden—scars marred his chest, spreading to his collarbones and below the water as he steps into the lake and sits on another ledge across from you.

His mask makes him look more menacing, erasing any trace of softness there. And you wonder if he’s angry at you for wandering off.

"Come here." His voice is low and deep, rumbling in his chest.

You don't think he'd hurt you. If he wanted to, he would have done it by now.

At least, that’s what you’re going with to settle the nervous fluttering in your middle.

Water laps at your arms as you wade through the water, each shaky step bringing you closer until you stop before him.

"In my lap."

Your breath sticks in your throat as you do as he says, settling down onto his sturdy thighs, palms falling flat against his broad chest. That same breath comes out in one large exhale as his fingers slide along your jaw, to the nape of your neck, curling into your hair, wet and falling around your shoulders.

“Like this?” you ask, trying to ignore how breathy you sound.

He grunts, apparently in confirmation.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so conflicted in your life—fear and arousal turning into a messy cocktail in your veins.

“Why do I always have to use a heavy hand to make you listen?”

Your lips part. Breath growing short. “I’m sorry.”

And then—

Simon pulls your head back sharply, exposing your throat.

Your body goes slack against his. Mind blissfully blank.

“No,” he says, tone flat. “But you will be.”

[sturnsdarling]

Birthdays in Boston

A prequel to 'I don''t know how to forget you', and the full story behind the photo of matt and y/n on the fridge

vibe check: WHOLESOME VIBES, bestfriends to FWB to idiots in love Au. smut throughout (its worth being patient for it trust me), shower stuff (handjob/fingering), birthday sex, matt the much, squirting (its her bday she deserves it), daddy kink, fluffy matt and y/n moments, just all round good vibes dude

9k words

A/N: this was so much fun to write I LOVE THEM UGH. I could write a thousand stories about them honestly its just so wholesome. I know it takes a lil while to get smutty but i wanted to build tension and was honestly enjoying writing wholesome vibes lol also its literally my story so if you dont like it, kick rocks. anyways i hope you guys love his as much as i do

love and cigs, merc

"you guys are actually insane, you're not paying for a plane ticket for me to go home for my birthday" you rolled your eyes, legs tucked under you on the boys' sofa.

"why not? we'd come with you obviously" Nick said, his head leaning on your shoulder as he peered up at you.

"because it's so much money, are you crazy?" you replied.

"kid, you're being silly, we're doing it." Chris rolled his eyes, taking his phone out his pocket and pulling up flights.

"no, Chris" you launched yourself forward, attempting to grab his phone out his hand.

Chris stretched backwards, holding his phone out as far away from you as possible whilst trying to finish his purchase.

"Matt, grab her" Chris laughed, holding you back with his free hand.

You're frantically trying to get his phone from Chris' hand when Matt stands up off the sofa, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off Chris with ease. You flailed about in his arms but his grip didn't waver. He chuckled at your attempts to free yourself from his grip.

"Chris, i'm so serious, don't buy those fuckin' tickets" you near enough screamed, still trying to escape Matts arms.

You threw yourself forward, arms stretched out and matt immediately pinned them to your side. Nick was laid down on the sofa, too comfy to move from when he fell off your shoulder, belly laughing at the sight of you frantically trying to overpower Matt.

"Done." Chris said, turning his phone round to show you the confirmation page for the flights.

Your body went limp in Matts arms and he dropped you to your feet.

"you guys are the worst" you sulked, Matt brought a large hand to your hair, soothing down the tangled mess that had occurred from your altercation.

"shut up, kid, you deserve it" Matt said from behind you just before picking you up and spinning you round, "Boston birthdays!" he drew out his last word, singing it as you giggled in his arms.

"Boston birthdays!" Chris and Nick joined in from the sofa, cheesing at the sight of you, your head hung back on its hinge as a giant smile crept its way onto your faux sulk ridden features.

The plane ride back to Boston was a tiring one,

you spent basically the whole journey asleep on Matts shoulder, his blue fresh love hoodie on and a half read book open in your lap. Justin picked you all up from the airport and brought you to the boys house, the car ride through Boston was weirdly nostalgic, you hadn't been home in a couple months and the feeling of being back in your city, with all your favourite people in one place for your 21st birthday was enough to fill you with an overwhelming sense of joy.

"Can you not just feel the 'og-ness', y/n/n" Chris peered round to you in the back seat, the whole car chuckling at Chris' favourite and very made up word.

"Chris, what does that even mean" Nick laughed, looking up from his phone.

"Its just the vibe, man, this kid gets it" Chris said, referring to you, "you get it, right y/n/n?"

You let out a breathy laugh through your nose, grinning at Chris, "yes, Chris, I can feel the og-ness"

"OG-NESS" Chris screamed, hanging his head out the window like a dog.

"kid, get your head back in the car" Justin said from the drivers seat, yanking Chris in by his hoodie.

"you're actually ridiculous" Matt shook his head, stretching his arm out behind you, his hand toying with a stray piece of your soft hair.

"He just feels the vibes, Matt, don't you feel the vibes?" you turned to look at him, your tone somewhat sarcastic as you batted your eyelashes at him.

A smirk filled his features as he peered over at you, eyes flitting down to your mouth and back up to meet your gaze again, "yeah, I feel the vibes"

The tension between you both was thick, and you weren't the only ones who felt it. Justin was watching the entire interaction from the review mirror, a knowing smile forming on his face as you rolled your eyes at Matt, biting your lip slightly and tearing your eyes from his.

After a short drive,

you guys were pulling into the boys house. Justin pulled into the driveway and Mary-lou, Jimmy and your mum were all outside the front of the house, smiles plastered over their faces as you all piled out of the car.

You squealed at the sight of your mother, fumbling out the car and racing over to her. She opened her arms instantly, catching you as your threw yourself into her.

"Hi, flower" she spoke into your hair, your arms crushing around her head as you pulled her into you

"Hi, mum" you replied, "god, I missed you so much" you nestled into the hug.

The boys were getting all of your bags out the car, Chris was already in his mothers arms, wrapped round her like a baby and Nick was racing ahead, running through the front door to find Trevor.

Justin and Matt were by the boot, Matt pulled your suitcase out and put it on the floor just before Justin slammed the boot shut. They picked up the bags and began to walk up to the house.

"so, whats going on with you and y/n" Justin said, slightly under his breath to his little brother.

Matts eyes widened slightly and he shot his gaze over to Justin, "what're you talkin' about?"

"come on, kid, I saw your little interaction in the back seat" Justin scoffed

"I dunno what you're on about" Matt shrugged, trying to fight the smile forming on his face, "there's nothin' going on with us"

Justin rolled his eyes and nodded, "right, sure there isn't"

You were all piled into the living room,

All the parents on one couch, you, Matt and Chris on another and Justin and Nick tucked up with Trevor on the smallest one. You sat like that for hours, talking about everything from childhood memories to LA stories, you told the boys' parents about college, and how you had found the perfect apartment off campus that was only ten minutes from the boys' house. You loved nights like this, where everyone was all in one place, talking about nothing and everything, tucked under Matts arm and your legs spread out over Chris'.

"whats up, fuckers" Nates voice boomed from the entry way.

everyone turned to see him standing in the doorframe, no-one questioning the fact that he had let himself in the house.

"oh shit, sorry y'all, didn't see y'there" Nate said, eyes wide as his hand flew over his mouth, gesturing to the parents all laughing and shaking their head at his entrance.

"NATE!" you screamed, pushing yourself up from your place on the couch and bounding over to him.

"was' up, trouble" Nate said, catching you in a warm hug, pulling you off the ground slightly.

"dude I haven't seen you in months, how have you been?" you pulled away from the hug.

"m'good man, just hangin' out and missin' y'all" Nate nodded, you both walked over to everyone on the sofas.

"whats up, kid" Nate said, laughing as Chris jumped into his arms, both Nick and Matt joining in on the hug, all of them hanging off each other as if it had been years since they'd seen each other.

Chris finally released his grip on Nate, letting him walk over to your guys' parents and give his 'hello' hugs and dapping up Justin. Everyone returned to their prior spots, Matt slumped down onto the couch and Chris sat on the other end, you thumped yourself down on top them, laying your head on Matts lap and your legs over Chris'. Nate lifted your legs up and planted himself between the boys, placing your legs back over him and Chris.

"so, what're we doin' for your birthday, kid" Nate tapped your leg.

"honestly, I don't wanna do anything" you shook your head "I jus' wanna be here with you guys and hang out, just like this" you looked around at the room, filled with everyone you loved, a warm feeling washing over you as Matt looked down at you.

"nah, we have to do something, it's your 21st" Matt said, his brows furrowing as he stared down at you

"I've never really cared about my birthday though, you know that" you replied, slightly awed at how handsome Matt looked from your position on his lap.

"Let me and Mary-lou make a dinner, at least? we can make that pie you love" your mum said from the other sofa.

"ugh, yes, please lets do that, you two in the kitchen is an unstoppable duo and the only thing I want for my birthday" you groaned, craning your head round to look at your mum and Mary-lou

"It's decided then, we'll have a big family dinner" Jimmy said, smacking his hands down on his knees and getting up, "I'll go get the groceries now"

Once Jimmy left to get groceries, everyone disbursed.

Nick, Nate and Chris all went up stairs to play fortnight, and your mum went home after suspiciously hiding in the kitchen to plan what her and Mary-lou were going to make for your meal. Matt and Justin went on a short pokemon-go hunt up the road, saying something about a shiny and sprinting out the house. You had gone out into the garden, telling everyone you wanted to catch the sunset from the hammock that was strung up between two giant trees.

You were laying in the net, swinging slightly as you stared off into the orange sunset, colours of pink and yellow illuminated the whole sky, the view from the top of the hill the boys' house was situated on giving you a near perfect view of the Boston skyline as the sun ducked behind it.

"Hey" Matts voice softly interrupted your solace.

You turned to look at him as he walked over to you, a giant smile engulfing your features at the sight of him.

"hey" you said, staring up at him as he rocked the edge of the hammock, "d'you wanna watch the sunset with me?"

"mhm" Matt nodded, "scooch up, pretty girl" he said, clumsily getting in the hammock and pulling you into him, his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead and rested his chin on your head, rubbing small circles over your skin as you both swayed in the warm Boston breeze.

"thankyou, for doing this" you said, turning up to face him.

"doing what?" he smiled down at you

"bringing me home, I don't realise how much I miss it until I'm back" you said, turning back to face the skyline but quickly returning your gaze to Matts soft features, the orange light making his eyes shine as he smiled down at you.

"of course, anything for our best girl" Matt ruffled your hair in his fingers.

"I know its lame but, I really do feel the og-ness" you chuckled, quoting Chris from earlier.

Matt erupted into laughter, "kids really got a way with words" he said, refereing to Chris.

You laughed in response, your giggles making Matt laugh even more as he watched you throw your head back. Your laughter subsided and you settled into each other, watching the sun go down as you swayed in the tiny hammock. For a short moment, Matt let himself forget that you weren't actually together, eyes flitting over your soft profile as you stared off into the distance, taking in the view and simply relishing in the feeling of being home. You could feel his eyes on you, and turned to face him, blinking at him like a cat.

"what?" you smiled, a red colour dusting your cheeks.

"oh, nothin' you're jus-" Matt cut himself off, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "you're jus' really pretty"

You rolled your eyes and smiled, swatting his chest slightly. He caught your hand, bringing it to his face and planting a kiss on your palm. He placed your hand on his face, leaning into your touch as you shifted closer to him. He let his eyes wander to your glossy lips, and you pulled at him slightly, edging his face closer to yours. Just as your lips brushed over each others, a booming voice interrupted your moment.

"Matt, y/n/n, dinners ready" Justin said from the back door.

You both quickly drew away from each other, Matt turned to look over his shoulder at Justin and you perched up with a hand on his chest. You looked at each other and not so gracefully got out of the hammock, you walking a little ahead of Matt and brushing past Justin with a smile. Matt was just a bit behind you, eyes fixated on your figure as you sauntered through the house.

"nothin' going on my ass" Justin muttered, grabbing Matt by the shoulder as he walked past him.

Matt just laughed and shook his head, pressing his tongue into the side of his cheek and turning to look at his brother sheepishly.

"don't worry, kid, your guys' little secret is safe w'me" Justin whispered just before walking off into the kitchen.

The next morning,

everyone was at the boys' house, you ended up staying the night in Nicks room after hours of chatting about anything and everything. Your mum had showed up early hours of that morning, wanting to be there when you woke up. Everyone had crept into Nicks bedroom, all holding balloons and gifts for you as they quietly shuffled and squished up at the end of his bed. You were dead asleep, hugging Nicks pillow as you felt the bed shift slightly. Your eyes fluttered open, and you were met with everyone; your mum, Mary-lou, Jimmy, the boys and Justin all cheesing at you from the end of the bed

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY" they all shouted in unison, Chris popped a confetti popper and Matt blew air into his party blower.

You laughed, covering your face with your hands as Nick clicked the film camera, the flash of light hurting your still sleepy eyes.

Your mum came forward, leaning on the bed and giving you a tight hug, "happy birthday, my sweet"

"thanks mum" you smiled into the hug.

Your mum pulled away and planted a kiss on your forehead. Everyone came forward one by one, giving you loving hugs and soft happy birthdays. The boys were last, and in perfect unison, they all jumped on top of you.

"BIRTHDAY BUNDLE" Nick screamed as a belly laugh erupted from your throat.

They all piled on top of you, squishing you beneath their weight as they laughed like little kids. You were giggling uncontrollably, nearly winded from their weight but consumed by laughter.

"I remember birthday bundles, you guys used to do that every year when you were little" Mary-lou said, chuckling to herself at the sight of her kids piled on top of you.

"Its a tradition" Chris said from beneath Matt, shifting where he was slightly to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

"you guys are insane" you chuckled as the boys got off you one by one, "thank you" you smiled, looking at the room full of everyone you loved and feeling utterly grateful for their existence.

"okay, get up and shower, we're going shopping" Nick said, dragging you out his bed.

"shopping? why?" you questioned, stretching the tiredness out of your bones

"because, dumbass, its your birthday" he said, stating the obvious

you let out a breathy laugh through your nose and shook your head, "okay" you said as everyone piled out the room.

The shower water ran down your back,

the warmth soothing your skin as you tipped your head back, letting the water run over your face and down through your hair. There was a sudden cold waft of air in the steamy room and the sensation pulled you from your blissful moment. You ran your hands over your face, getting the water out of your eyes as you fluttered them open. You were met with a grinning, naked Matt standing in front of you, before you could open your mouth to be shocked, his hand was wrapped around your mouth, his finger coming to his mouth to shush you.

"shhh, pretty girl, s'only me" he said, moving his hand from your mouth and wrapping it round the side of your jaw.

"Matt? what're yo-" your questioning was cut off by him pulling your lips to his, he kissed you feverishly, his hand snaking round to the base of your spine to pull your wet body into him.

Your hands found his face immediately, returning the kiss as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, the warmth a welcomed sensation as your tongue pressed against his.

Matt broke the kiss, leaving you aching for more as he turned you both round so he was under the warm water for a moment.

"what're you doing in here? what if someone catches us?" You whispered, hands raking down his bare chest.

"no ones gonna catch us, sweetheart, everyone's downstairs" he said, pressing you into the cold tiles and bringing your mouth to his again.

You whimpered into the kiss, the feeling of his warm, completely bare and wet skin pressed against yours quickly igniting a desperate ache in you.

"mphm" Matt grunted as you moved your hand down to palm at his painfully hard cock, "not being able to kiss you for twenty four hours has been agony" he broke the kiss before quickly crashing his lips back into yours.

You chuckled at Matts desperation as his kiss became increasingly needy at the sensation of you pumping your hand up and down his length. He was near enough fucking into your fist, thumbs pressed hard into your cheeks as his tongue sloppily moved against yours.

The heat from the water mixed with your growing arousal made you both feel slightly lightheaded. Matt trailed a hand down your torso, palming softly over your tit before snaking his hand down between your legs. He found your puffy clit and rubbed slow, soft circles over it, just before gliding his ring finger through your folds, your sticky wetness covering his finger as he moved back up your pussy, using your juices as lubricant over your clit.

You bit down on Matts lip with a whimper, your grip tightening around his cock as you involuntarily bucked your hips into Matts fingers. Matt grunted into your mouth, the sting of his lip coupled with your tight grip around his length only serving to make him more desperate. He slid his long fingers through your folds once more, slipping two digits inside you with ease as you clenched around him,, your head rolling back into the tile as he curled his fingers inside of you.

Matt broke the kiss to trail wet, hot kissed down your neck, still fucking into your closed fist, completely reeling at the sensation of your hand around him.

Matt groaned as you began to turn your wrist, rubbing your thumb up and over his leaking tip, "fuck, princess, you're gonna make me cum if you keep doin' that" he breathed onto your wet skin.

"cum all over my hand, please, Matt" you moaned, the steady pace of his fingers making your back arch off the cold tile behind you.

Matt moaned at your words, "you first, birthday girl" he said as he pulled his fingers from you, using his soaked fingers to rub blissful circles over your throbbing clit.

You couldn't help the guttural moan that left your throat and Matt chuckled, bringing the hand on your cheek to your mouth, "shh, pretty girl, you don't want them to hear us, do you?" he smiled, his pace on your clit never wavering.

You shook your head, pleading eyes pouring into Matts as he worked your clit, ducking his head back down to nip and suck on your neck, soothing every sting of his teeth with the warm flat of his tongue. You pumped his dick impossibly fast as you chased your own orgasm, rolling your hips into Matts hand as your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. Only Matt would be able to make you feel this good with such a simple act.

You whimpered into his palm, the skin of his hand muffling your cries as you came, your whole body shaking as you tried to keep yourself upright. The sight of you cumming all over his hand sent Matt over the edge and soon enough, his hips were stuttering against your hand. With his eyes clenched shut and his forehead against your shoulder, Matt released sticky, warm cum all over your fist. You continued to work his length as he slowed his pace on your clit, movements sloppy from his orgasm and the sensation of you using his cum as lube to pump him.

Matts whole body shook against yours as he let out a soft chuckle into your skin, watching you in complete awe as you brought your fingers to your mouth, licking them clean of his cum.

"you're insane" Matt smiled, shaking his head before kissing you feverishly.

You kissed him back before pulling away, shifting slightly to stand under the warm water once more. You leant down to get the shampoo from the side, squeezing it into your hand and rubbing it through your hair.

"here, birthday girl, lemme do it for you" Matt said, replacing your hands with his as he worked the foam through your hair.

Your eyes closed at the massaging touch of Matts hands against your scalp, your head relaxing into his touch as you let out low satisfied hums. Matt did your whole shower routine for you, conditioning your hair, exfoliating your skin with the rough side of the sponge before going back over the way he came with the soft side. He treated you like you were royalty and he was your servant, peppering tender kisses all over your wet skin as he bathed you, whispering sweet praises in your ears about how beautiful you looked or how soft your skin was.

Once you were clean, he stepped out the shower first, wrapping a towel around his waist before holding a hand out to you and helping you step out onto the cold tile floor. He reached for the fluffy white towel and wrapped it round you, bringing you into a tight bear hug.

"happy birthday, pretty girl" he said, placing a loving kiss into the top of your wet hair.

"Thankyou, Matty" you cheesed up and him and he cringed at the old nickname.

"don't make that face! I used to call you 'Matty' all the time when we were little" you said, looking up at him with your chin rested on his chest.

"yeah, when we were little it was cute, now it just makes me feel weird" He chuckled scrunching his face up at you.

"well, I like it, so" you drew out your 'o', smiling cheekily up at Matt.

"you can have twenty four hours of calling me Matty, only because it's your birthday, and then you can go back to calling me daddy" Matt smirked, raising his brows and brushing his lips over yours.

"i've literally never called you daddy in the history of ever" you smiled, laughing into his parted lips.

"maybe you should start" he said in a low, seductive tone, pressing a kiss on your lips.

"In your dreams, Matty" you said, kissing him back with a smile etched on your lips.

The rest of your day was spent shopping with Nick,

It was the perfect day. You and Nick went to all your favourite thrift spots in Boston, spending the whole day talking about how ‘they just don’t do it like this in LA’ and complaining about west coast prices. Nick took you to your favourite lunch restaurant, a hidden gem in your home down and you guys spent hours chatting about nothing and everything. Even though you begged him not to, he told the staff that it was your birthday and your pancakes came out with sparklers and a song. You, obviously, wanted the ground to swallow you whole as the entire restaurant sung happy birthday to you, but the look on Nicks face from behind his phone made all the embarrassment worth it.

You and Matt spent the whole day texting, as usual, and he was nothing other than loving and attentive. Every thrift find you weren’t sure of he was there to give you his opinions, every selfie you and Nick took was sent straight to him along with photos of the city that really ‘captured the og-ness’.

Little did you know, the whole time you were out shopping and sending silly photos to Matt, he was helping set up your surprise back at the boys’ house.

Everyone had come over to help out; Mary-Lou and your mum were a dream team in the kitchen, making more food than anyone would ever need as the boys put up all the decorations in the back garden. There were party hats, streamers, balloons and a giant vintage style cake with your name sprawled across it in big pink letters.

Just before the sun was starting to set, you and Nick decided to make your way home. Nick sneakily messaged the family group chat and let everyone know you were both en route, just in case they needed to add any finishing touches before you arrived.

When the uber pulled up, you were completely none the wiser.

You and Nick waded into the house, both excited to show everyone what you had got but were met with an empty home.

“where is everyone?” you said, brows furrowed as you dropped your bags to the floor

Nick pretended to be as confused as you were, hoping you couldn’t hear the music that was blaring from the back garden.

“that’s so weird” Nick said in faux confusion, “maybe they’re outside?” he said, pointing to the back door.

“maybe” you said, nodding as you began to walk towards the garden, the music slowly coming into your senses as the confusion you felt grew.

Nick pulled out his phone, walking slowly behind you as you pushed down on the back door handle, stepping out into the garden, eyes on the floor.

“SURPRISE” everyone yelled in unison, party poppers going off as the sound of party horns rattled through your skull.

Your head shot up, and you were met with the boys' entire family and your mum, all clad in party hats and standing in front of a massive banner hanging from tree to tree with "happy birthday" sprawled across it.

An intense feeling of pure joy engulfed your body. A giant smile spread across your face as tears welled in your eyes. The entire garden was filled with balloons, streamers hung from the trees and an entire table filled with food. Your 'feel good' spotify playlist was blasting from a speaker that Justin had set up, 'Home' by Good Neighbours making the grass rumble with the bass as everyone came running up to you, all engulfing you in a giant hug, leaving you squished in the middle of them.

The air was filled with laughter, everyone jumping and screaming happy birthday over and over again, spinning and pulling you back and forth into tight, loving hugs. You couldn't help but well up, feeling completely overwhelmed by all the love you felt. You never cared about your birthday, but in this moment, you knew that you had an army of people who did, who cared about your birthday, who cared about you, more than anything.

The laughter subsided and your playlist began to rifle through songs, all your favourites playing and filling the garden with an energy that could only be described as you.

"how did you guys have time to do all of this?" you cheesed, looking around the garden and wiping the small tears from your eyes.

"It was the plan all along" Matt shrugged, his eyes trained on your glowing features.

"why do you think I kept you out the house all day?" Nick asked, putting his phone in his pocket and looping his arm round your shoulder.

"this is actually insane" you shook your head in disbelief, "is this my playlist?" you said, clocking the familiar music.

"that was my idea" Chris said, grinning at you like a proud kid.

You couldn't stop smiling, you took a moment to look around at everyone, taking in the fact that you were home, and you were spending your birthday with everyone you loved.

"you guys are incredible" you said, locking eyes with Matt, who was already looking at you.

"you deserve the world, flower" you mum came up to you, wrapping a warm arm around your waist as you pulled her into you close.

You spent the rest of the evening eating, laughing and having the best time.

Everyone was dancing about, the boys were making up silly routines that made your stomach ache with laughter as you keeled over on the grass, a drink in your hand and a plate of birthday cake on the floor beside you.

Matt came forward, slightly out of breath from the intense routine that Chris had forced him to join in on and held out a hand to you, pulling you up from the ground with a smile. Within seconds, his shoulder was at your stomach and you were hanging upside down over his back. He leapt out into a full sprint around the garden, your giggles filling the air and only serving to make him run faster. He was chanting happy birthday over and over again, singing the tune with a grin spread across his face. When he reached his brothers once more, he placed you down onto the grass, catching you by the waist as you nearly stacked it from lightheadedness.

You couldn't stop your laughter, it being echoed by everyone around you.

"guys, smile!" Nick said, a few feet away from you and Matt with his camera to his eye.

You both turned to face him, Matt shifted to stand behind you slightly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pressing his face close to yours with bared teeth, acting as if he was going to bite your ear with a wide smile. Your hands found Matts arms, gripping onto him as you squeezed your eyes shut, baring your teeth in a cheesy grin. The camera shutter went off and Nick giggled at the two of you, running off to take more photos of everyone.

Your hands didn't leave Matt, you caressed him gently as he dropped his smile and pressed a long kiss into your hair. You pushed into his touch, finally dropping your hands from his arms and turning to face him.

"thank you, for all of this" You said, absentmindedly taking Matts hand in yours loosely.

"It wasn't all me" he smiled, linking his fingers with yours.

"no I know, but, I know it was your idea" Your eyes poured into his as he fought his smile, you were right.

"it might have been" Matt gazed down at you, fighting every inclination to kiss you.

"you're ridiculous, you know that?" You shook your head slightly, gripping his hand tighter.

A smirk formed on Matts face, "you love it" his tone shifted slightly, carrying an air of seduction.

You rolled your eyes with a smile, glancing away from Matt and locking eyes with Justin, who was grinning behind his cup and watching the two of you act as if you were the only people in the world. He shot you a knowing wink and you smiled at him, your attention finding the grass in slight embarrassment.

Once the sun had set, you all settled in the garden, curled up on the furniture

"happy birthday, my sweet" your mum pulled you into a tight hug.

"thanks mum, i'll be home after tonight, I want to spend some proper time with you before we go back to LA" you said into her hair, just before you broke the hug.

"I'd love that" she smiled, her eyes glistening just as yours do when you smile.

Once your mum had left, Mary-lou and Jimmy went to bed, and it was just you and the boys, all sitting round the fireplace jimmy had built when you guys were little.

"Nate, are you staying here tonight?" you asked from your position on the bench, legs draped over Nicks.

"yeah I think so, gonna spoon with my boyfriend" Nate said, wrapping his arm around Chris shoulder and kissing his cheek.

"cant wait" Chris giggled.

Nate and Chris went up stairs first, saying something about 'burring kids on fort'.

It was just you Nick and Matt, you spent a while talking about the day and giggling about how oblivious you were. Matt couldn't stop staring at you, the way your features were illuminated by the flames captivating him completely. A small smile crept across Nicks face when he noticed his brothers inability to look away from you.

"I'm gonna go zone out and edit the pictures from today" Nick pulled your legs from across his, ruffling your hair as he stood up, "happy birthday, queen" He grinned.

You and Matt were finally alone, and he immediately came to join you on the small sofa you were curled up on.

He pulled your legs over his, rubbing small circles across your soft skin. You shut your eyes and let your head fall back onto the arm rest, reeling in his touch after what felt like forever.

"I um, I got you something" Matt said, breaking the comfortable silence.

You pulled your head up to look at him, "you got me something?" You mirrored his words.

Matt nodded with his lip tucked between his teeth, shifting slightly to reach into his pocket. He pulled out a small box with a little blue bow on it, handing it to you with nervous hands.

You took the box from him, admiring the effort he went to with a smile and a kind tut. Before you even opened it, you were grinning from ear to ear.

"you didn't have to do this" You smiled at him, your heart pounding in your chest at the sentiment of him giving you a gift, in secret

"just shut up and open it" Matt rolled his eyes, tapping your leg.

"Okay, okay" you shuffled to sit up, undoing the bow and handing him the ribbon.

You opened the box with a creak, your mouth falling agape slightly at the sight of a small gold heart locket staring back at you. It was engraved with swirls in a shape that followed the curves of the gold. A small blue gemstone sitting happily in the centre. You couldn't help but gasp slightly, it was beautiful.

"Matt..." you said softly, eyes finding his as he grinned at you.

"open it" He cocked his head slightly.

You furrowed your brows lovingly, glancing back down to the locket before carefully opening it. Inside, was a tiny photo of you and Matt when you were kids. Little Matt was in a backwards hat, holding your face with his tiny hand, innocently kissing your cheek as you smiled at the camera.

You were in awe, it was perfect. tears welled in your eyes as you shut the box, throwing yourself forward and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. Matt giggled, hugging you back and nestling his head into your neck.

"do you like it?" He said, tucked into your hair.

"Matt..." You pulled away, "it's perfect, its beautiful, its-" you sighed, shaking your head and looking down at the box in your palm, "thank you" you said, a warm smile on your face as your eyes poured into his, flitting back and forth and watching as the fire flickered against his blue iris'

"you're welcome, angel" Matts hand found your cheek, caressing it slightly with his thumb as he pulled you into a tender, loving kiss.

Your lips slotted around his perfectly, you closed your eyes and leant into the kiss, deepening it with the brush of your tongue against Matts lip, asking for invitation.

Mat chuckled into your mouth, "easy, birthday girl, we're still in my garden remember?" He smiled, peppering a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away completely.

You and Matt spent the whole night talking,

wrapped up in each other and the warm embrace of the fire. The stars hung above your heads, illuminating your conversation as you laughed and joked, talking about everything from childhood memories to your favourite 'date nights'. On nights like this, it was easy to forget that you weren't together. Everything with Matt was so easy, you knew him better than you knew yourself and vice versa. You just worked, and, you hadn't realised in that moment, and wouldn't for a while but, you were falling in love with him.

When the fire finally died, you both retreated inside,

walking hand in hand through the house, trying to be as quiet as possible in attempts to not wake anyone up.

You crept up the stairs, following Matt with your hand loosely locked in his. You reached his bedroom door and paused just outside, Matt turned to face you, his hands finding your waist as yours found his shoulders.

"you know, I have another present for you" He whispered, moving his lips impossibly close to yours.

"really?" you whispered into his nearly open mouth.

"mhm" Matt nodded, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue instantly pressing against yours.

You kissed him back with matching desperation, wrapping your arms round his shoulders as he opened the door with one hand, leading you both inside to his dimly lit childhood bedroom.

Neither of you broke the kiss, only deepened it once you were safely hidden in the confides of his room. Matts fingers looped around the hem of your top, silently asking for permission to take it off as you broke the kiss. He slipped your top over your head and pulled his own off before quickly capturing your lips in a wet kiss once more. You whined at the sensation of his warm skin pressed against yours, falling against the bed as you straddled him.

You ground your hips against him as you bit down on his lip, growing more and more desperate for him as minutes passed. Matt groaned at the feeling on your warm, clothed pussy rubbing against his stiffening cock. He pushed you up, flipping you both over so your back was on the soft fabric of his duvet. You hit the bed with a giggle into your kiss, one Matt returned as he pulled away from your lips, trailing warm kisses across your skin, down your torso and to the hem of your jeans. Your hands found his hair, back arching into his touch as his grip on your ribs became bruising.

Matt sucked and kissed at the skin on your stomach, nipping at the flesh as he edged his hands down your torso and to the button of your jeans. He expertly pulled them open, breaking his embrace with your skin to tell you to lift your hips up. You complied, allowing him to pull your jeans down at an agonisingly slow pace. As he did, he kissed all the way down the inside of your legs, pressing his warm tongue against your skin. An uncontrollable whimper left your throat, a tingling warmth vibrating across your body at the feeling of Matts slow kisses.

You wear nearly bare for him, sprawled out on his bed, clad in a baby pink matching set he had gotten you a couple weeks earlier. Matt groaned at the sight of you, stretching like a cat and putting yourself on full display for him.

"you're so fuckin' beautiful" Matt shook his head, unable to control his wondering hands as one gripped your thigh, and the other found the soft flesh of your tit.

You smiled in response, a smile that quickly left your face as Matt leant down, capturing the soft skin of your stomach against his tongue once more. He was so gentle, taking his time as he worked his way down to wear you needed him the most. Your hands were tangled in his messy hair, pushing him against you with desperation as he kissed all round the hem of your panties, purposefully missing your throbbing clit with every wet, warm kiss.

His thumb came to your core, and your back arched instantly at the pressure of his digit against your sopping hole. He pushed the fabric against your pussy, making your juices seep through the lace. A chuckle left his lips at the sight, pride swelling in his chest over how wet you were for him.

"Matt, please" You whined, bucking your hips into his thumb, the tension making you feel lightheaded as you looked down at him with hooded eyes.

"you want it, angel?" Matt looked up at you, pressing his thumb harder against your clit as he began to rub slow circles against the lace.

You nodded with a whimper, your lip tucked between your teeth as you played with his soft, brown locks.

"okay, pretty girl" He smiled, letting you get away with the lack of verbal agreeance only because it was your birthday.

With that, he wrapped his mouth around your core. His tongue pressing against the soaking wet fabric as he slowly and passionately kissed your pussy. Your mouth opened, a moan nearly escaping your lips as you pressed a firm palm over your face, silencing any noises that tried to escape.

Matt pulled your panties to the side, the cold air hitting your warm pussy just before his mouth was back on you, lapping at your hole as it clenched around nothing. His pace was slow, but the pressure he was applying sent tingles all through your body.

He was relentless, not giving you a moment before he teased your hole with his middle finger, slipping it in with ease. Your thighs tensed around his head, locking him in. Matt didn't mind, in fact, he loved it. He groaned at the taste of you, watching as your back arched off the bed, pushing your throbbing pussy further into his mouth. He slipped a second finger into your clenching hole and began to suck gently on your clit, pumping his fingers at a faster pace than his mouth was working.

The sensation was euphoric, your whole body felt as if it was on fire as your vision began to blur. Matt curled his fingers inside of you, lapping and sucking at your clit like a man starved, relishing in the sight of you convulsing above him. You tensed and writhed, your toes curling as you involuntarily bucked your hips into his mouth. Your pussy clenched around his fingers, the sound of them pumping in and out of your soaked and sticky walls filling the air.

"you taste so good, angel" Matt spoke into your pussy before latching his lips around your clit once more, his tongue pressed flat against it as he worked your sopping hole.

All you could do was whimper in response, any sense of coherence leaving your brain as Matt brought you closer to the edge. The vibration of his soft moans against your pussy had you reeling, and with a knuckle deep curl of his fingers, your vision was white, your thighs tight around his head as a wave of blissful euphoria washed over you. You came all over Matts mouth, releasing your juices onto his fingers. He swiped his tongue through your folds, collecting your cum on his tongue with a groan as you shook above him, your grip on his hair relentless as you rode out your high on his face.

Matt kept his pace, determined to make you cum again, totally engrossed in the taste of you on his tongue. Your whole body began to tense, legs shaking as if they had their own mind as Matt pumped into you faster, sucking on your clit with feverish pressure. He near enough growled as he felt you clenching around him once more.

"Matt, Matt I think I'm gonna-" You were cut off by a sudden, guttural moan attempting to leave your throat. You tried your best to silence yourself, but the sensation that was ripping through your body was more than distracting.

You released a flood of juices all over Matts face, juices he encouraged with curling fingers and a lapping tongue. He couldn't help but smile as you squirted all over his face, shaking and convulsing on his mouth as he slowed his pace on your pussy.

you went completely limp, shivers creeping up your spine as Matt pulled his mouth from you, the cold air hitting your warm pussy once more.

"happy birthday, my pretty, pretty girl" Matt whispered, crawling up your body to capture your open mouth in a wet kiss.

The taste of yourself on his tongue sent you into a frenzy, and as if on instinct, you locked your legs around his waist, hands immediately going to the buckle of his belt, pulling his jeans open with utter desperation as you whimpered into his mouth.

Matts cock was painfully hard as you took him in your palm, a small whine leaving his lips as you pumped him, attempting to line him up with your gaping, soaked hole as he bucked into your hand. You were locked in between his arms, his body weight hovering just above you as you pressed his leaking tip between your folds, pushing it up and over your clit with needy whines.

Matt chuckled into the kiss, and waited until you brought his tip down to your hole before bucking his hips forward, sliding his length inside you with ease. You both moaned at the sensation, your head flying back to the pillow, breaking the kiss. Matt stared down at you in awe, the sight of your fucked out face making him lose all control. He bottomed out without warning, pressing his hips hard against yours.

"fuck, Matt" you whimpered into his ear, locking him into you with tight arms around his neck.

Matt groaned, pulling out of you before pushing into you once more, feeling lightheaded from the sensation of being nestled deep into your perfect, warm pussy and dipping his head down to the cook of your neck

The sting of him stretching you out was blissful, you nipped at his earlobe, "you stretch me out so fuckin' good, daddy" you whispered.

Matts attention was immediately back on you, eyes wide as he stilled inside you. You giggled slightly, looking at him with teasing eyes as he attempted to form a thought.

"say it again." he said, his tone stern but holding the air of a whimper

"make me cum all over your dick for my birthday, daddy" you said, biting your lip and giggling once more.

Matt growled, dipping his head down to kiss you with feverish passion as he began to rut into you, hard and fast. You moaned into his mouth, legs tight around his hips as he fucked you at a relentless pace. One hand was pressing bruises into your waist, holding you still as the other held your jaw, leading the kiss with gentle dominance as your walls clenched around him, milking him.

His dick pressed against your g-spot over and over again, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrust into you, the whole bed shifting under you both. His grip on your jaw was soft, but the way he was kissing you was completely desperate, heavy breathes leaving his mouth every time he caught a sliver of air. Matt was completely lost in you, fucking you with passion you'd never felt before. The sensation of his throbbing cock sliding in and out of your gummy walls was mind boggling, and the pressure of his warm skin against yours had you reeling.

Matts hand moved from your waist down to your clit, and he began to work fast circles over the throbbing bud, looking down and watching as your pussy sucked him in.

"oh my god" you whimpered, eyes clenching shut.

"cum for me, princess, cum all over my dick, please" Matt was begging, actually begging to make you cum again.

He watched as all sense left your brain, your orgasm fast approaching as he kept his pace, fucking you with relentless desperation and rubbing fast circles against your clit, using your juices as lubrication for his movements.

"fuck, you're so beautiful like this, so fuckin' beautiful, taking me so well, such a pretty girl" Matts rambles were coming out in moans, watching as you approached your climax.

His words sent you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you as you came all over his dick. The tight clench of your pussy around him sent him spiralling, and with a stutter of his hips and a hard, whimpering thrust, Matt came inside you, matching your breathy moans as his forehead rested against yours.

Matt stilled inside you completely, breathing heavily above you with closed eyes. You giggled, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips and he chuckled in response.

"best birthday sex, ever" you whispered with a smile.

Matt chuckled once more, opening his eyes to look at you cheesing up at him. He shook his head with a smirk and kissed you as he pulled out, his spent cock limp against his leg. He fell down onto you instantly, and your hands found his hair.

"we should do that every year" Matt muttered into your skin, a wave of tiredness washing over him as your gentle caresses on his head soothed his racing heart.

You didn't reply, only smiled to yourself at the sentiment, not quite realising the weight of Matts request due to your fucked out senses.

Within minutes, you and Matt were asleep, tangled up in one another's warm, naked bodies.

The next morning,

you and the boys were sitting around the breakfast table, eating waffles and drinking fresh orange juice. No one had noticed you sneak out of Matt's room in the early hours of that morning, and luckily when you snuck into nicks room to pretend to be asleep, he was dead asleep.

"yesterday was so fun, guys, I love it when we're all together" Chris said, already getting sentimental at ten in the morning.

"it was great, I really felt the OG-ness" You said, cocking a brow at Chris. Nick and Matt both groaned at you encouraging Chris' antics.

"YES!" Chris shouted, flinging his bacon out his hand, "the OG-ness, bro, I'm tellin' you, it's a thing" he continued, patting Nate on the chest.

Nate chuckled, "okay, kid"

Everyone laughed at Chris' outburst, the table filled with rolling eyes and warm hearts, because deep down, you all knew he was right. A comfortable silence filled the kitchen as you all continued to eat your breakfast, simply enjoying each others company.

"so" Nick said, taking a bite of bacon, "what did you guys get up to after we all went to sleep?" he asked, innocently.

You and Matt shared a quick look, both fighting the smiles forming on your face. You shuffled in your seat and shook your head slightly, "nothin' really, we just stayed up all night talking".

"yeah, just sat down here and hung out, pretty much" Matt added, a small smirk crawling its way across his face.

You glanced at him, trying to look as normal as possible. Nick watched the entire interaction with a look of bafflement on his face, eyes flitting between the both of you shifting in your skin on either side of the table.

"okay..." he drew out his word, taking a bite of his food with suspicion etched across his features.

The nearly awkward tension was cut off by Justin coming into the kitchen, he walked behind you and placed a firm hand on your shoulder with a squeeze, "how was the rest of your birthday evening, y/n/n" he asked, his accusatory tone going over everyones heads.

"it was good, thanks J" you looked up at him from your perched position.

"Good" he nodded with a smirk, before walking over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a mug.

Nick watched with furrowed brows, his eyes trained on you as you blushed. The puzzle pieces began to slot together in his mind, you looked at him, your face completely straight but somehow confirming his suspicions.

"OH MY GOD" Nick screamed, everyone in the room being totally startled by his volume.

"what Nick? what?" Chris jumped out his skin, looking around the kitchen for an axe murderer.

Nick locked eyes with you once more and your eyes widened slightly, unbeknownst to you. Matts focus was trained on you, and Nick looked to Matt, who suddenly looked very tense.

"no, nothing, nothing, I thought um- I thought I saw a bug" Nick stuttered his way through his lie.

A smile formed on your lips, as you returned your attention to your food. Matts shoulders relaxed, and he glanced at Nick, shooting him a grateful look. Nick was onto you both, but you knew your secret was safe with him, and realistically, he'd probably forget about it in a week. Of course he didn't, he kept it to himself for months, until the moment came where he needed to be a big brother and save the day, but thats a story for another time.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour

[jeneveuxrein]

off the table (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 13.5K

(meh, could've turned out better, but it'll suffice)

-- -- -- 

The door slams, startling you enough to flinch as you drop your controller on the carpet. When you pick it up to continue with your game, there’s a dramatic sigh. 

“Everything okay?” You ask politely, rolling your eyes when you see your opponent score a basket since you weren’t able to play defense. 

“No,” Rosie says flatly. You hear her keys tossed on the entry table before she sighs again. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You offer. You even pause the game. 

“Maybe later,” Rosie says as she passes by, “I’m going to bed.” 

“Oh alright, well—” You aren’t able to finish your sentence because the sound of her door shuts before you can. 

You shrug, indifferent to her mood. You unpause the game, continuing on as if nothing happened. 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about her, she’ll talk to you when she’s ready.

-- --

You were desperate at the time. There were too many things happening at once, that you forgot to look where you were going to live next. The only reason remembered was because the building manager showed up at your condo to do an inspection—a week before your move-out date. 

It was your fault, ignoring the paper notices in your pile of mail and the emails that flooded your inbox. You had just finished the last of your exams. Your job pushed you to take, time passing by, that it completely slipped your mind. 

Once the inspection was over, you called everyone and anyone you knew if they had a spare room on short notice. Most of them were either living with their significant others or had a roommate already. 

Except for Lisa. 

She was the only one with a viable lead. One of her best friends had recently moved back to Seoul from Australia and needed someone to offset the cost of the mortgage. 

You found out Lisa’s friend was a woman. You were hesitant because you had never lived with a woman except for your mother and sister when you were younger. You voiced the concern to Lisa, who laughed because you were ‘too adorable’ and that it didn’t matter to Chaengie if she lived with a man. 

You bit the bullet and agreed to meet with Chaengie, come to find out her name was actually Chaeyoung or Roseanne, but she preferred Rosie if you called her by her English name. 

Rosie was nice enough, easily charming you and making you feel comfortable when Lisa introduced you at her place. 

It was a nice condo in one of the more luxurious areas of Seoul. Open floor concept with floor-to-ceiling windows and separate rooms on opposite sides of the unit had you wondering what Rosie did. When you found out she was a lawyer, it made sense for her to afford a place like this. You were on the fence about what your share would be because it couldn’t be cheap, likely double what you were paying for your condo. 

After the brief tour, there wasn’t much since it was half-furnished, Rosie surprised you by telling you that you could pay as much as you do for your current place. She could afford the mortgage on her own, but she wanted someone to live with more than worrying about the money. 

It was a no-brainer, a steal in your opinion because living here at a discounted rate would work in your favor. Plus with passing your exams, you were expecting a bump in your salary.

You agreed, promising that it would only be temporary until things settled down. At most, six months was what you projected, but Rosie said to stay for however long you liked. 

That was almost a year ago. 

Living with Rosie wasn’t what you expected. 

You had no experience with living with a woman and the last time you had a roommate was when you were at university. 

You figured she’d want her space, not wanting to intrude or bother her whenever she was home. In the beginning, you kept to your room for the most part unless you had to cook, which wasn’t often. Your job had you putting in long hours at the office that you would crash as soon as your head hit the pillow.

It wasn’t until about a month or so in of living together and work slowed down, allowing you to come home at a decent hour when Rosie knocked on your door, asking if you wanted to watch a movie together. 

That was the turning point where it became calling her your roommate seemed like an inaccurate description. 

You spent more time with Rosie, getting to know her on a personal level. She had this way of sharing about herself that made you want to share too, something you hardly did. She made you laugh as she told you about her day. She would make you eat actual food instead of relying on takeout, asking you to help her cook. 

She was someone you admired that it created a dilemma when you realized you developed romantic feelings for her. 

It was short-lived because you found out by accident that she didn’t see you as anything more than a really good friend. 

You woke up late one Sunday morning. You heard voices in the kitchen, which wasn’t out of the norm as Rosie had her friends over frequently. It was a conversation you shouldn’t have listened to, but curiosity got the best of you when your name came up.

You recognized the voice—Jennie, one of Rosie’s friends you met a few times—asked, giggling, “Have you slept with him yet?” 

“What? Unnie, that’s absurd. He’s my roommate,” Rosie answered, heavy emphasis on the label.

You were hiding, tucked around the hallway corner as the women conversed. Your mother used to scold you for eavesdropping, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. 

“So? He’s hot,” Jennie stated matter-of-factly. You blushed at her comment. “He looks like he works out and there’s something about him that I know he’s just good in bed.” 

“Jennie!” You imagined Rosie’s face shocked at her friend’s brazenness. “He’s my roommate,” She emphasized again. “I have not, and will not, ever look at him like that. He’s a really good guy, but he’s off limits.”

“Does that include me?” You heard Jennie yelp after her question, the sound of skin-on-skin contact was enough. “If you’re not going to sleep with him, why can’t I?!” 

You didn’t bother listening anymore, deciding that you would go to the gym instead of joining them for brunch. You walked away feeling a little dejected, knowing where you stood with her, but you respected it. Things could get messy, especially since you lived together. 

(Though if you stayed a minute more, you would’ve heard Rosie say that she thought about asking you out once you move out.) 

As time went on, your feelings for her grew. It was hard not to, with how much time you spent together, your friends even asked if Rosie was your girlfriend based on how you often mentioned her. 

It wasn’t like you could not not talk about her. She became part of your routine, part of your life that you found yourself riddled with guilt whenever you went out on dates with women who were genuinely interested in you. You were certain you would’ve been too, if your feelings for her didn’t loom.

That didn’t stop Rosie from telling you about her dating life. It wasn’t as detailed compared to if she was talking to Lisa or Jennie, but it was enough to sting every time. 

You made a rule to yourself that you’d never bring a woman over, keeping those activities away. You were human after all, and you had needs. 

Rosie was unaware of the self-imposed rule, and there were a few times you caught her night-time partners leaving in the morning. Sometimes it would be the same person. Other times just passing flings you never saw again. 

It was what it was, and Rosie didn’t seem in a rush for you to move out. 

Though at some point, you would have to. You didn’t want to overextend your stay. You hoped to remain friends with her, regardless of how you felt. 

It would probably make it easier for you to get over these unnecessary feelings. 

Right? 

-- --

You scoop the sliced up fruit into the blender, eyeballing how much milk you needed, when Rosie walks into the kitchen. You send her an easy smile before turning the machine on to blend the ingredients so you could make it to work on time. 

Rosie stands on the other side of the kitchen island, waiting for you to finish. When you’re done, she says, “I’m sorry about last night.” 

You raise an eyebrow, “For…?” 

“I felt that I was short with you. You didn’t deserve that,” Rosie says apologetically. 

“It’s nothing to worry about,” You smile, nodding reassuringly. “Whatever happened, just know you can talk to me.” 

“I know,” Rosie returns the smile, standing abruptly to make her way over to you as she wraps her arms around you. You hope she didn’t feel you tense up because any physical affection with her leaves you dizzy. “I might be home a little later tonight. Jennie and Lisa want to take me out.” 

“Okay, just text me if you need me to pick you up,” You can’t stop smiling around her. “I’ll probably just be here, playing video games.” 

Rosie makes a humming sound, sinking into your body before taking a sip of your smoothie. “You haven’t been on any dates recently, everything okay?” 

The statement throws you off. It’s not like Rosie isn’t aware of your dating life and when you’re not home, but she’s never said anything like that. 

“Er, I just noticed you haven’t been out as much,” She backtracks, her hand rubbing your back. 

“Been busy with work,” You reply noncommittally. It’s true, work has been busy with your boss on your ass about finishing the security protocol for the new application that was developed. You probably should find some sort of release to ease the tension, but that could wait. 

“Well don’t work too hard, okay?” Rosie looks up at you, eyes filled with worry that you’re overexerting yourself. She boops your nose, grinning when you make a face. She lets go of you and blows you a kiss, “I’ll see you later. Have a good day!” 

And with that, Rosie’s out of the condo, leaving you more confused because that was just weird. It was even weirder that you missed her close to you, but that was something you were familiar with. 

Oh well. 

--

Someone’s trying to break in. 

It sounds like it, based on the aggressive knocking on the front door that has you rushing out of the shower. You only have enough time to throw on a pair of sweats, that when you swing open the door, wolf whistles ring through your ears as your eyes fall on Rosie first before realizing she’s being held up by Jennie and Lisa. 

“What the fuck happened?” You step aside as they usher your roommate inside, worry etching across your face.

“Jeez,” Jennie scoffs, “Hi to you too, oppa.” 

Once you close the door, you immediately reach for Rosie, steadying her as Lisa takes her shoes off. 

“You smell nice,” Rosie slurs out, nose falling right in the crook of your neck. You stumble slightly, bringing an arm around her back to make sure she doesn’t topple over. “Did you just come back from working out?” She asks, sighing contentedly against your skin. 

“Yes,” You nod, hoping she or her friends don’t see your cheeks turn red. “Are you okay?” 

Rosie giggles, nodding deeper into your neck, “Just a little drunk.” She holds up her thumb and finger in front of your face, meaning she’s really drunk. 

You practically carry her to the sofa with Jennie and Lisa in tow. They’re whispering something about you and you hear the latter mention how toned you are. Your face feels hot, but you avoid looking at them by having Rosie sit. 

“I’ll be right back,” You say as they sit on either side of Rosie. Her head falls on Lisa’s shoulder, eyes barely open. “I’m going to put a shirt on.”

“Please,” Jennie smirks, “By all means. None of us mind if you don’t.” 

You roll your eyes after she winks, earning a chuckle from Lisa. You refuse to engage anymore, not giving either of them the satisfaction, and leave to your room. 

When you return, fully clothed, Lisa is nowhere to be found and Rosie’s much more awake than when she arrived. Jennie’s over in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water, raising the pitcher to you, which you shake your head. 

“You okay?” 

Rosie nods, shyly looking away, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be like this.” 

“It’s—”

“Chaeng, you literally got dumped for something so stupid,” Jennie cuts you off, aggressively slamming the fridge door. “It’s fine that you got drunk. You deserve to. You look hot, and people noticed.” 

There’s a lot of information to process, but you focus on the fact that Rosie had a boyfriend and you weren’t aware of it. 

“Uh,” You aren’t sure how to respond. 

“We’ll tell you about it,” Jennie appears in front of Rosie, holding the glass to her lips. “Lisa just went out to get some soju and beer.”

This wasn’t how you expected your night to go, but it looked like you didn’t have much of a choice. 

--

You take whatever Lisa bought out of the bag. It consisted of soju and beer along with a bunch of snacks that seemed a lot like Rosie’s favorites. 

While waiting for Lisa, Rosie changed into more comfortable clothes. She asked if she could wear your hoodie since you left it out, which you didn’t see any issue with. Jennie, on the other hand, snickered as if there was some secret you weren’t a part of. 

You wanted to know what happened between Rosie and her boyfriend, but you didn’t want to be nosey. You respect her privacy, especially since you didn’t know she had one in the first place. 

As Lisa places the glasses on the coffee table, Jennie tells you the reason why Rosie got too drunk at happy hour to make it to the club. 

Apparently Rosie’s now ex-boyfriend was an asshole. 

Just not in the way you’d think. 

Jennie waits to see if Rosie will elaborate behind you, but her eyes are closed, head resting on one of the pillows. When there’s no response, Lisa asks a question that had you almost dropping the bottle you’re pouring.

“What?” You stop what you’re doing, staring dumbfounded at the two women across from you. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear her,” Jennie rolls her eyes. “Are you against foreplay?” 

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” You feel the tips of your ears burn because you might consider these two your friends, but they weren’t your friends that you spoke with things like this with. 

“An honest one,” Lisa answers, taking the bottle out of your hand to continue pouring the shots. “You’re of the male species, so we want your perspective on it.” 

You piece together what kind of asshole Rosie was with, and that could never be you. 

“No,” You mumble. “I’m not.” 

“Like you actually do it, right? It’s not just rubbing your dick over the girl and calling it foreplay?” Jennie’s choice of words has you annoyed. 

“What? You know what foreplay is, right?” You grab the shot glass, taking it in one go because it’s very much needed with where this conversation is heading. You ignore the scowls on their faces when you drink without them.

“I do,” Jennie points to herself, then tilts her head to Lisa, “She does too, but Chaeng, on the other hand, hasn’t been with someone who’s as… let’s say, giving in that department.” 

“Leave him alone you two,” Rosie yawns, stretching her arms up before sitting up. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let’s just keep drinking.” She reaches over you, since you’re sitting on the rug, and takes the soju bottle instead of a glass. 

Everyone watches Rosie take a lengthy swig before sinking back into the sofa. The defeated look on her face makes you want to hug her, which you will, but not in the presence of her friends. They’d relentlessly tease you both, something you can’t handle. There’s two of them. 

“To shitty sex?” Lisa raises her glass. 

“The absolute shittiest sex,” Rosie adds, holding the bottle up.

You have thoughts about that, but you can’t let yourself get too deep in them. It doesn’t help with the little (big) crush you have on her. 

You’re most likely delusional, but you think you could be someone that would show her what real sex was like.

Then again, like she’d give you a chance. 

--

“Get home safely, okay?” Lisa smiles, nodding as she holds Jennie up. “Make sure she drinks water.” 

“God, you’re so fucking nice,” Jennie slurs, eyes barely open. “Why don’t you just date Chaeng? She’d be so much happier. You’re also, like, really hot.” 

“Okay!” Lisa pulls her a little roughly, glaring even though Jennie is oblivious. “Time to go. Thanks again for having us over, we’ll see you soon.” She rushes out, turning before her friend could say anything else. 

You chuckle as they walk away, Lisa muttering something to Jennie that has you wondering how much truth there is to that statement. It’s a nice ego boost to find out Jennie, and by extension, Rosie, think of you as attractive. Even if it’s on a superficial, physical level. 

After you shut the door, you find your roommate curled on the couch. You wonder if she’s still awake, knowing she switched to water while the three of you continued drinking. You grab one of the blankets, unfolding it, when she yawns. 

“I’m still awake,” Rosie mumbles, one eye opening that stops you from covering her. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

“You’ve apologized to me three times today,” You cover her body anyways, joining her on the couch. She gets cold easily. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry you’ve been having shitty sex.” 

Rosie groans, burying her face into the pillow, “God, that’s fucking embarrassing too. I’m sorry you—”

“It’s fine,” You wave dismissively. “Seriously though, that’s terrible.”

“Tell me about it,” Rosie sighs dejectedly, shaking her head. “For once, can’t a guy I date just return the favor?” 

You try not to react, but the alcohol you’ve consumed has lowered your inhibitions, so you boldly ask, “Has no one ever gone down on you?”

Rosie sits up, tilting her head curiously as she stares at you, “Well people have, but I guess never enough for me to enjoy it? I don’t know. Lisa and Jennie hookup from time to time, and share, in great detail, what they do. It makes me wonder if I’m missing out.” 

“I’d say you probably are,” You nod, recollecting memories of the women you’ve slept with thoroughly enjoying the action when you do it. You get off on it alone, but that’s because you like doing that. 

“God, who the hell do I have to meet to experience it then?” 

It’s a question you’re not expected to answer, but you find yourself saying, “No one. I can do it.” 

You want to smack yourself in the head for even suggesting that. It’s treading into dangerous waters because you have to remind yourself who she is in your life. She’s your roommate, for god’s sake. 

“You would?” Rosie asks innocently, as if this was as simple as changing the lightbulb in her room. “Like actually?” 

“Um,” You clear your throat, averting your gaze from her imploring one. “Yeah if you really wanted. I enjoy it so I’m not expecting anything in return.” Your face feels on fire. 

“Okay,” Rosie nods, and your eyes meet hers. “There’s no pressure if you change your mind.”

You scan her face, searching for something—anything—that she’s actually serious. You can’t tell if she is, and she senses your hesitation by adding, “I’m drunk enough to want it, but not that drunk where I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

That gives you some reassurance, but you care the most about how it would affect your friendship. It would have to change something, right? You’ve always separated feelings and sex when it comes to one night stands or flings, but you have real feelings for the woman in front of you, that could either help or hurt you.

You’re not sure which is worse. 

When you still don’t say anything, Rosie continues, “It won’t change anything between us. Just think of it as friends helping each other. Well, I guess in this case, you’re just helping me, but I could return the favor?” 

You shake your head, “No, that’s unnecessary. I’ll manage.” A flat out lie because you know that you’ll become a ball of sexual frustration. You’ll likely have to reach out to someone in your phone book to help out the problem you’re creating for yourself. 

“Are you sure?” Rosie asks softly, hand reaching out to your forearm. Her thumb gently rubs your skin, and your body heats up at the contact. 

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, trying to focus on what you’re about to do. “So how do you want to do this?” You’re not sure if kissing is a part of the deal, but you don’t want to push your luck. 

A blush appears on Rosie’s cheeks, shyly looking away. “Um, how do you usually do it?” 

“Are you really asking me about my moves?” You smirk. It earns you a light slap on the arm. “I don’t have very much.” 

Rosie scoffs, leaning back into the couch, “Why do I find that hard to believe?” 

“Because I have none,” You chuckle, moving to stand in front of her, in between the couch and coffee table. You kneel, pushing the table slightly back to give you more space. “Comfortable?” 

“Nervous,” Rosie breathes out as you settle on your knees.

“Don’t be,” You murmur, reaching for the edge of the blanket. “If you want to stop, just tell me.” 

You pull the blanket off, letting it fall to the ground. There’s a sharp inhale and you grin, meeting her eyes locked onto you. “Let me know, okay? I’ll stop, no questions asked.” 

“Okay,” Her voice shakes, body trembling as your fingers hook onto the waistband of her sweats. 

“This is about you. I can say with one hundred percent confidence that whoever refused to do this is a fucking idiot.” You mean it because with someone like Rosie, she deserves to be worshiped. 

And even if you’ll never be her boyfriend, you could do this. 

You gently tug her sweats off. She lifts her hips up, making it easier for the both of you, and once the clothing’s removed, you notice her cute underwear. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, just a simple black bikini cut with a small pink bow at the top. It’s adorable really, chuckling that her legs reflexively close.

“Don’t be shy,” You rest your chin on her knee, tilting down to place a soft kiss on her skin. Her legs slowly spread, granting you access to more skin.

“That tickles,” Her body shivers as your lips curl up. 

Your fingers grab the waistband of her underwear, slowly dragging it down her legs, watching them join the discarded pile. You settle in between as her knees separate, inviting you to taste her. Your cock stirs at the sight of her pussy, clean and well-kept, that your mouth waters.

You will, but you can’t give in just yet. 

You pepper kisses along her inner thigh, ghosting over her skin that has her absolutely squirming. You place your hands on her knees, spreading her wider and holding her still. You alternate between thighs, sucking lightly on the skin. You shouldn’t want to leave marks, but you can’t help it. You’ll deal with the repercussions later. 

Because the only thing on your mind is her and her alone. 

By the time you reach the apex of her thighs, Rosie sucks in a breath. You briefly glance up to her eyes low, teeth clenching her bottom lip. She gives you the smallest nod before you swipe your tongue in between her folds. 

You let out a breathy groan the moment her slick meets your tongue. Your mind shuts off, body turning on auto-pilot as you explore her center.

“Fuck,” The word falls from your mouth after tentative licks in between her folds. She squirms at the ministrations, taste buds ablaze as her slick drips down your chin. 

“Holy shit,” Rosie lets out a pretty moan, music to your ears as you insert your tongue inside her pussy. 

You swear she gets wetter, the scent of her pussy against your nose has you breathing deeply, soaking all of her in. You move with ease, licking and tasting all she has to offer.

“You’re making a fucking mess,” You growl out when you see the small wet spot form on the couch. You should probably put something under her, but the sounds she’s making are too good to stop. 

“I’m so fucking wet,” The sounds she’s making has you moaning against her pussy as your cock pulses in your sweats. “You feel so good.”

Rosie’s hand shoots to your head, fingers threading through your hair. It forces you to look up at her, and you shove your hand underneath your sweats, gripping your cock, because the sight is unholy. 

You’ve always been attracted to Rosie, that much was obvious the first day you met her. You’d be an idiot if you didn’t see the stares people threw whenever you were with her. Though, she was oblivious to it all, smiling back that would have them swooning. 

But like this? 

You’ve never seen anything hotter. 

You don’t know when it happened, but her hand slipped underneath her shirt, exposing more skin as she touched breasts, squeezing, massaging as your tongue continued its movement. Her hair’s an unruly mess, hair sticking up as a light sheen of sweat covers her face.

What really gets you is the lust-filled gaze, eyes narrowed, silently asking to continue. You’ve never seen her like this, and you can’t help but stroke your length. You keep your eyes locked on hers, tongue swirling in, over, around her pussy, leaving no spot untouched. 

Her grip on your hair tightens as she rolls her hips down, nose brushing against her clit. You slip your hand in between her legs, fingers teasing her outer lips before slowly inserting your index finger.

You watch Rosie’s eyes bulge, gasping, choking for air at the surprised intrusion. Her head tilts back, moaning as she rubs herself over your lower face. 

Rosie says your name like a prayer, a promise, an oath, that you’ll keep. You’d live your life in between her legs if it meant you get to hear her moan your name over and over. 

“God,” Your eyes roll back, intoxicated by her taste, getting harder the more she squirms against your mouth. “If I’m really the first person to actually do this, you’ve been having shitty sex.” 

“You are,” Rosie says through gritted teeth. “I realize that now.”

Her pussy practically sucks you in, your middle finger joining as her walls quickly squeeze around you. You want to make this last, but by the way she feels, and the way her breaths shorten with each inhale, she’s close. 

“Fuck,” Rosie’s hand never left your head, shoving your face deeper in her cunt as her legs spread wide, knees touching the couch. “I think I’m going to cum.”

“Go ahead,” You command, too lust-driven to watch what you say. “You’re so fucking hot. You feel so good around me. I wonder how you’d feel wrapped around my cock.” 

You break character for a moment, explicitly sharing what you want. For a brief second, you wait for her to pull away because this is for her. Her body reacts differently. Her inner walls tighten deliciously after mentioning that, lighting a fire under you. 

“Yeah? You want that?” You taunt, scissoring your fingers, curling, rubbing the muscles. “Your pussy wants my cock huh? God, I’d cum so fucking fast.”

Your thoughts are all over the place, thinking of any and every position you want her in. You need something to relieve yourself as your cock throbs in your hand, blood rushing south as you feel dizzy.

On top of you, watching her hips swivel as she tries to take all of you. Or you’d want to see her ass bouncing on you, legs spread over your knees as you fuck up into her, impatient. Or bent over the couch, ass high as you impale her along your length, so hard that she falls over. 

You don’t realize you’re talking to her pussy, muttering all the filthy things you want to do, until she gushes over your face, screaming as her orgasm rips through her body. Her walls keep your fingers locked in, but that doesn’t deter you. You continue moving your fingers, curling up just enough to hit that spot inside her before both hands are around your neck, holding you there as she thrusts herself on your face. 

You feel lightheaded. You can’t breathe, suffocated by Rosie’s thighs, keeping you there as she grinds haphazardly all over your face. You groan, choking out air as your tongue repeatedly flicks against her clit that has her body spasming.

When you pull away, you gasp, chest heaving as you stare at the blissed out woman in front of you. 

“Holy…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, eyes closed as she’s not faring any better than you. “Your mouth.” 

Embarrassingly enough, you came inside your sweats. You rest your forehead on her thigh before giving her one last peck. You lean back, using the collar of your shirt to wipe your face. 

“So,” You nod, as if what you just did was an everyday occurrence. “I hope you enjoyed that.” 

“Thanks for that,” Rosie gets out in between breaths, eyes opening slowly. “Seriously.” 

“Anytime,” You cringe because it makes you sound desperate. If she asked though, you would do it again. And again. 

And again. 

“I might have to take you up on that,” Rosie sighs dreamily. You chalk it up to the hormones clouding her brain, especially since her orgasm was strong. 

You feel the wetness in your pants, which thankfully they’re black so you couldn’t see your release staining. You distract yourself by gathering Rosie’s clothes. She’s still trying to catch her breath, body limp against the cushions, so you help dress her, slipping her underwear as best you can. 

“It’s fine, I can do it,” Rosie says so softly that you look up, meeting her gaze and something shifts. You can’t describe it, but you could feel something close to adoration just by the way she looks at you. 

Again, you’ll blame the hormones and alcohol, but it scares you to see that she might, in some kind of way, like you the way you do. 

“Let me.” You’re stubborn in that sense. You’ve always been respectful of women. You do your best to make sure they’re comfortable, and aftercare is a part of it. Rosie relents, letting you dress her before covering her with the blanket again. “There. Want me to carry you to your room too?”

“Stop,” Rosie blushes, averting her gaze to anywhere else. “You’ve done enough. I’ll get there, just let me be.”

You nod, rubbing her knee before standing up. “Goodnight Chaengie.” You smile as she lets out a contented sigh, snuggling deeper into the couch. 

-- 

You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for Rosie’s return, as you sit on the couch. The very same couch you were in between Rosie’s legs. 

You haven't seen Rosie since Friday night. The following morning, you expected to see her, but you woke up to a text message that she would be out for the weekend with her family in Busan, something she mentioned before about a wedding she had to attend. 

It was a blessing in disguise since it gave you time to ruminate over what happened. 

You weren’t entirely sure how you felt. You knew for certain that you were horny and needed to fuck someone to get out all the pent up tension that your hand could not provide you. You wanted to do it again (and a whole lot more), but that wasn’t something you could ask of her.  

You hoped things between you hadn't changed because it would, for a lack of a better word, suck, if it did. You’d have to find a new place to live when you’ve gotten so used to being in her presence. You’d have to change your number because you wouldn’t be able to face her. You’d also probably have to never talk to Lisa again because the chances of you seeing Lisa with Rosie in tow were high. 

(You’re just being dramatic at this point, but still.)

Rosie sent you a message about an hour ago that she’d be home soon. You contemplated ordering take away from one of her favorite spots, but opted not to and would just ask her if she was hungry as soon as she walked through the door. 

You had to make it seem like nothing changed anyways. 

You almost don’t hear her walk in, too absorbed in your own head that the sound of her whistling breaks you out of your thoughts. 

“Hey oppa,” Rosie greets as she sits next to you, leaving a friendly amount of space in between. 

“Roseanne,” You nod, smirking when she rolls her eyes at the use of her full name. “How was the wedding?” 

“Same old, same old,” Rosie sighs, shoulders dropping as you watch the tension leave her body. “My aunts kept asking me when it would be my turn to get married since Alice-unnie’s engaged, and the disappointment on their face when I told them I’m single was priceless.” 

You chuckle, “I’m sure you could be in a relationship if you want to. It’s not like people aren’t interested.” 

“Eh,” Rosie shrugs, “I know people are interested, but after the last one, I think it’s in my best interest to be single to figure out what I want.” 

She has a point. You haven’t been in a relationship in years, at least nothing serious where you considered marriage. Sure you have flings here and there, but it wasn’t more than just sharing a few meals and spending nights with women who weren’t looking for anything serious. 

It was nice, but there were times you wanted something more than just that. 

You imagined it a lot over the weekend with Rosie, which you partly blame on your feelings for her and watching her cum on your tongue. 

“That’s good,” Is all you can really say without delving too deep in the turmoil you felt over the weekend. 

Rosie checks her phone for a bit, leaving a lull in the conversation. You want to say something to address what happened, but you feel awkward doing so. You stare blankly at the blank television screen as she responds to whoever. 

“What’s wrong?” Rosie asks after a couple minutes. 

“Oh, uh, nothing,” You rush out, avoiding her gaze burning on the side of your face. 

Rosie places her phone on the coffee table before turning to face you, tugging on your arm. You can’t help but look at her, noticing the concerned look she’s giving you. She waits, and you relent, sighing, “Fine, I thought things would be awkward.”

“Awkward because…?” Rosie trails off as you watch her face blush, realizing what you mean. “That? Nothing’s changed. Sure, you might’ve set the bar really high for people in that department, but it’s nothing to make things awkward between us.” 

“Rosie,” You deadpan. 

“Oppa.” She knows how much formalities like that irritate you, especially when it’s just you two. 

“You sure?” You ask, needing this reassurance from her because your friendship with her has become one of the most important things to you. 

Rosie nods enthusiastically, smiling, as she leans forward to rest her head on your shoulder, “Yes. More than sure. I felt comfortable the whole time and I don’t regret it.” 

You smile, the guilt of taking advantage of her lifting off your chest. It doesn’t lessen how you feel about her, but at least you could live with knowing that. 

“Sooo…” Rosie drawls out, playing with the sleeve of your shirt. “Did you want to do it again?” 

What?

“Uh?” You’re dumbfounded. 

“I mean you could say no!” Rosie says quickly, pulling away. “It was nice, like really nice, and I think it could be fun to do it every once in a while.” 

“You’re actually serious?” 

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t,” Rosie shrugs indifferently. 

You internally groan because you feel your cock starting to get hard at the thought of doing that again. You gain nothing from this except material for you to use after the fact because you still wouldn’t be able to ask her to help out. 

“Sure why not.” You’ll deal with your hormones after, in a very cold shower. 

“Really?” Rosie beams, giggling as she sinks into the couch. 

“Here? Or…?” You glance behind her to the hallway. 

“I don’t mind the bedroom,” Rosie whispers. 

That’s all the confirmation you need.

You stand abruptly, scooping Rosie in your arms, that she squeals at being carried. You chuckle as she playfully hits you, arms encircling around your neck tightly. 

“You’re so annoying,” Rosie mutters against your neck.

You try to ignore the sensation of her breath on your skin by pulling her closer to your body. You don’t want to drop her after all. 

“Yeah, well, in about ten minutes, you’ll be saying something else.”

“You promise?” 

“Absolutely.” 

-- -- 

It was a mistake, telling your friends about your situation with Rosie. They asked why you seemed happier because you couldn’t just be happy without a reason. 

Rosie may be the reason why, but well, you didn’t have an excuse. 

She is the reason why. 

Which is an odd thing to say because you literally don’t get anything out of this except a shit ton of sexual frustration that you deal with—alone. You haven’t had the heart to ask anyone on a date lately, or entertain the women that you meet when you’re out and about. 

You’ve done everything to Rosie you possibly could, yet she doesn’t get tired of your mouth. 

At the rate you two were going, you’ve had to have developed some kind of jaw problem. 

She asked one night, after you washed your face, while watching one of her shows before you went to bed, if she could sit on it. By her logic, and something you found out accidentally, she finds men who take care of themselves to be attractive. Not that that comment went to your head because then by your logic, she would have to find you attractive. 

There was a time when she wore an oversized shirt and nothing else except for cute cheeky underwear that you tried very hard not to notice as you were making a smoothie. It didn’t help that she kept shaking her hips in front of you when you asked her if she wanted something, which was met with her bending over against the counter. It wasn’t like you could say no, especially when she slowly pulled her underwear down. 

Then, there was another time after a night out that she practically pushed you to your knees to eat her out right against the door. 

With too many times in between, you’ve basically haven’t had a decent, satisfying release since this one-sided arrangement started—two months ago. Your hand could only do so much for you. 

Your friends may have noticed you were happy, but they also saw how on edge you were that they asked what was going on. You might’ve been a little too loose with your words to say you’ve been spending time with Rosie by doing that for her, but then you haven’t gotten anything out of it. 

“Bro, you just gotta fuck someone if she’s not going to fuck you,” Jungkook says in your ear as Taehyung and Minwoo nod in agreement.

“It just feels wrong to,” You sigh, shoulders dropping as you drop your head on the table. 

“Wait,” Minwoo raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying you like Chaeyoung?” 

Your silence is enough for them. 

“Dude!” Jungkook slaps your back, much harder than you expected, jolting your head up. “What kind of shit is that? You haven’t fucked her. Hell, you guys haven’t even kissed.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” You almost growl out, eyes narrowing toward Jungkook that he switches spots with Taehyung. 

“Well that says a lot,” Minwoo nods to himself in confirmation. 

“What?” 

“You do like Chaeyoung, but we sort of—minus Kook—already knew,” Minwoo explains, sipping his beer. 

“Okay, yeah, you’re right,” Shoulders dropping as you admit out loud that you do like Rosie. You may even be in love with her, but that’s something you’ll keep to yourself. 

Minwoo and Taehyung shoot you a sympathetic smile that makes you feel worse. Jungkook, however, completely misses the point, “Well why don’t you just fuck her out of your system?” 

“Do you always have to talk so crassly about women?” Taehyung sighs, shaking his head while slapping the back of Jungkook’s. 

“What!” Jungkook rolls his eyes, rubbing the spot he hit. “I get it. It must be hard to live with someone and do something like that with them for nothing in return. By the way, you’re a saint because if I—” Jungkook doesn’t finish that statement as Taehyung hits him again. 

“Sorry Tae,” Minwoo shoots you a look, “I sort of agree with him.”

“You what?” You and Taehyung speak at the same time. 

“It’s not healthy by any means. You’re probably a god in her eyes, but let’s be honest, you know you need to,” Minwoo says matter-of-factly. 

“I mean, I guess? It just feels wrong to,” You reason, trying to make up an excuse. 

“Why? It’s not like you’re dating. She’s single as far as you know. I’m sure you could find someone tonight if you really tried,” Minwoo encourages, nodding his head to the crowd in the bar. 

“I invited Jeongyeon,” Taehyung says suddenly. 

“What, why? It’s supposed to be a boys’ night out,” Jungkook whines, pouting like a puppy that you all ignore. 

Taehyung glances at you before answering, “Nayeon’s in town. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to see her since she’s hardly around.”

“Dude,” You glare at Taehyung, who isn’t fazed by your tone. “Are you fucking serious?” 

“What?” Taehyung shrugs. “You two ended just fine, and she’s also single. So why not have a nice one night stand with someone you know very well?” 

You want nothing more than to punch Taehyung in his face, but you also do not want to get kicked out of this bar you go to often.

Im Nayeon. 

A woman you haven’t seen in years, but she’s also the woman you dated for about three years. 

The breakup was amicable. No bad blood between you. Life was pulling you in different directions that neither of you wanted to give up your dreams to stay together. Nayeon moved to Busan while you stayed in Seoul. 

You’d be happy to see her on any other occasion, or maybe, any other moment in your life where you weren’t pining for someone that was your roommate. 

The problem is, Nayeon would actually be down to have sex with you. A problem that’s too tempting in the state that you’re in where, as your friends eloquently put it, you need to get laid. 

“I’m going home,” You stand, digging through your pockets for whatever bills you had. 

“Too late,” Minwoo mumbles before you hear Nayeon’s obnoxious laugh behind you. 

“What? Leaving already? I just got here, oppa,” The all-too familiar voice says as you turn around. You’re met with a toothy smile and eyes squinted that you can’t stop the smile forming on your face. 

Fuck. 

-- 

You’ve missed Nayeon. She has always been someone that made you laugh even when you’ve had the worst days. She still has the same obnoxious laugh and teases you to no end, but she’s different from how she was. 

Nayeon still has that level of immaturity when it comes to trivial things, but the way she carries herself proves she’s much more confident and sure of herself. She listens to what you tell her whether it be about work or how your sister wants you to spend more time with her, giving advice when appropriate. 

Your friends left you two alone when a billiards table opened up. Jungkook and Jeongyeon nodded approvingly like they were expecting something to happen tonight, which as things were unfolding was highly likely. 

“So are you dating anyone?” Nayeon asks after finishing the third round of drinks. 

You hesitate, quickly shaking your head as the bartender comes over and asks if you wanted anything else. It buys you some time, but once the drinks are poured, Nayeon waits for an answer. 

“I’m not,” You take a hefty swig, choosing your words carefully because Nayeon has a tendency to dice and analyze stuff like this. “It’s a bit complicated?” 

“When is it not with you?” Nayeon teases, biting her lip to hide her smile. “Tell me about her.” 

You thought it would be weird to talk to your ex-girlfriend about the woman you’re currently interested in, who happens to also be your roommate. She doesn’t say much, except for clarification on minor details, as you do your best to give a condensed version of who Rosie was to you. 

When you bring up that night, you wait to get scolded for taking advantage of Rosie, Nayeon surprises you by remaining indifferent. If you were looking at her, you wouldn’t have missed her eyes slightly narrowing as you describe how much Rosie uses this ‘perk’ frequently. 

You finish, and the weight on your shoulders feel a little lighter, like you can actually sit up straight for once. You see the wheels turning in Nayeon’s head, picking her words carefully. 

“Tell her how you feel,” Nayeon says softly, leaning slightly forward just enough to smell her perfume. 

“It’s really not that simple,” You sigh, leaning forward as your shoulder brushes against hers. 

Nayeon rolls her eyes, “It seems pretty cut and dry. You accidentally fall in love with your roommate, eat her out so well that you’ve practically ruined her for any other person, that she actually ends up falling in love with you too, but is too scared to do anything about it since you’re roommates. The only thing to quote unquote keep you is to ask you multiple times throughout the week to eat her out. Am I wrong?” 

“You’re so annoying,” You shake your head. 

“But you’re not saying I’m wrong, so just either tell her how you feel,” Nayeon reiterates, resting a hand on your thigh, “Or you’re going to get blue-balled to the point of insanity. Which for what it’s worth, is a loss for her because whenever you’re really riled up, sex is amazing.” 

“Nayeon,” You grit out, reaching for your drink because this is not what you want to talk about with her, of all people. 

Realization crosses her face and she giggles, hitting your thigh three times before saying, “You’re frustrated, aren’t you? Oh this is gold. I can’t believe you, of all people, are having trouble sealing the deal.” 

“Fuck off,” You pout, turning away to hide the embarrassment on your face. 

“Hey,” Nayeon says softly, affectionately, that it’s jumbling your thoughts as you try to separate how you feel about Rosie and the pent up energy waiting to be released. “I’m just kidding about the whole ‘sealing the deal’ part. It took a while to win me over.” It’s a joke between you because she was the one that pursued you after working on a project together. 

“Nayeon,” You sigh dejectedly as you turn to face her, resting your face in your hand. 

“Hm?” She raises an eyebrow after she sips her glass. You ask a question, but it’s barely audible. “Speak up.” 

“Do you want to spend the night together?” 

Nayeon doesn’t answer right away, choosing to swirl the ice in her glass. 

It gives you a chance to drink some water because the alcohol is definitely getting to you if you brazenly asked your ex-girlfriend to spend the night. There’s a part of you that wants her to say no thank you, but there’s a more selfish part that wants her to say yes. 

“When was the last time you had sex?” Nayeon asks after a few minutes, dragging it longer than necessary.

The question catches you off guard, but you answer, “Probably three months ago.” 

She makes a humming sound, raising her hand for the bill as the bartender walks by, “Fine. On one condition.” 

“What?” You shift on your seat, excited and eager that she’s agreeing. You pull out your wallet, handing your card to the bartender before he could hand her the bill. 

Nayeon leans forward, invading your space to feel her breath against your skin. You brace yourself for whatever she has to say. 

“Fuck me like I’m her.”

--

You hear footsteps across the hardwood floor, but it’s not enough to stop you from what you’re doing—making a smoothie. It isn’t until two arms wrap around your stomach that prompts you to stop. 

“You and these damn smoothies,” Nayeon mumbles, nuzzling her face into your back. 

“I made you one too.” Nayeon giggles, sneaking a hand underneath your shirt. Your muscles flex at her touch. “Having fun there?” You ask as her finger traces up and down, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Always with you,” Nayeon kisses your shoulder blade, peering her head around to watch. 

It’s nice to be like this with Nayeon. It’s familiar, the same sort of routine you had after spending countless nights together. You had a tendency to wake up before her, especially after a night like last night. 

Nayeon was insatiable—still is—and you both reaped the benefits of your sexual frustration. She wouldn’t let up, practically begging you to do all the things you wanted to do, as if it was Rosie you were fucking. She didn’t care how hard or fast you went because she knew how you were when it came to sex. 

There’s a bit of guilt that you couldn’t make it to your room. Nayeon practically jumped on you as soon as you entered the apartment, dragging you to the couch before the door fully shut. She was in your lap before you knew it, stroking you to a full mast that had you seeing stars. One moment you were groaning against her lips, the next she was kneeling in between your legs. 

The rest of the night was just you taking all your pent up frustration out. Nayeon welcomed it, spurring you on by whispering the thoughts you’ve had about Rosie in your ear. You nearly lost yourself to the sensation of Nayeon’s body wrapped around yours, overwhelming you when the picture of Rosie popped into your mind. 

It was almost morning by the time you both tapped out, exhausted and relaxed. You had never had anyone stay in your bed, but it was nice to cuddle with Nayeon before sleep took over. Rosie wasn’t home, vacationing with her family on Jeju Island, so you weren’t expecting their paths to cross. Nayeon had plans with her sister and mother anyways before she had to return to Busan. 

“Is your roommate home?” Nayeon asks once you hand her the smoothie.

You shake your head, turning around to face her, “Rosie’s coming home tonight.” 

Nayeon leans into you as you place your free hand on her waist, gently rubbing her back. “So…” The teasing glint in her eyes spells mischief. 

“Seriously?” You knew Nayeon had a high sex drive, but you’re not sure you have anything left. “Four times wasn’t enough?” 

“One for good luck?” The smoothie’s on the counter, her arms wrapping around your neck as she stands on her tiptoes. Her lips brush against yours, murmuring, “You know you want to.”

You couldn’t ignore the effect she has on your body, cock awakening when she presses her body just enough. Nayeon’s hot, and she knows how to push every single one of your buttons. 

“Why not right here?” Nayeon nips at your bottom lip, sucking lightly.

“There’s food on the counter,” You reason, eyes closing as you move your lips languidly against hers. 

“And…?” Nayeon pulls away, dropping on her heels. 

Your eyes open slowly, hand immediately dropping when they land on Rosie standing in the hallway. 

It’s like a deer caught in the headlights. You watch her mouth open and close, but no sound comes out. Nayeon senses your body tense, head turning slightly and a grin forms on her face. 

“Hi,” Nayeon says casually. She turns around so that her back’s against your front. She loops your arms around her waist as you stifle a groan at her bottom pressed directly over your crotch. “I’m Nayeon, it’s nice to meet you. You must be Rosie right?” 

You didn’t realize Nayeon’s clothing choice because she’s wearing one of your shirts, falling mid-thigh. She’s wearing her underwear, at least, but even that does nothing to hide the small love bites you left on her skin. 

Rosie clears her throat, “Yeah.” You hear her voice crack. “It’s nice to meet you too. Um,” Her eyes shift to yours, “I’ll leave you two alone. Sorry to, uh, intrude.”

You’re barely able to get a word out before Rosie rushes to her room, leaving you and Nayeon to watch her door quietly shut. The woman in your arms chuckles, shaking her head. 

“That was rude,” You lightly scold, pinching her stomach. 

“Look,” Nayeon shakes you off before turning to face you, crossing her arms, “Give it a month, at most three, you’ll be together.” 

“You were toying with her,” You roll your eyes, mirroring her stance. 

“How?” Nayeon snaps, eyes glaring. “Neither you nor I knew she was going to be here this morning. Maybe her seeing you with someone else was a wake up call.” 

“Yeah but still, you didn’t need to do all that,” You argue. It’s a weak position, but you had to justify it somehow. 

“Don’t act all high and mighty. You literally came inside me twice. Call a spade a spade, you fucked me while thinking of her, which I have no issue with. My issue is, how long can you act like you’re not in love with her?” You almost interject, but she raises a finger, “I know you are. Give me that, at least.” 

Nayeon stares, waiting for your response, but you have nothing. She’s right in every sense because you are in love with Rosie.

“It may have been a few years since we dated, but I still care about you,” Nayeon continues to talk, sending you a sympathetic smile, “Just be honest with yourself and her. There’s something there.” 

“Okay,” Your shoulders sag, avoiding her gaze. You’re probably pouting based on Nayeon’s fingers suddenly cupping your chin, tilting your head up. “What?” 

“It’ll work out, trust me. You might not know girls as well as I do, but it was all over her face.” You raise an eyebrow. “She’s jealous.” 

-- -- 

You’re confused, stumped even on how to proceed. 

Things have been awkward. 

It’s not like you’re avoiding each other because you still see her in the mornings and evenings. It’s always a brief conversation about how things are going, then Rosie excuses herself either to her room or she has plans. 

You might as well be avoiding each other. 

You feel the need to explain yourself, but Nayeon has been in your messages saying that you owe her nothing because it’s “her thing to deal with”—whatever that means. You tried asking her to explain, but she was adamant to just wait. 

It’s been a couple weeks since you spent the night with Nayeon. Rosie’s been distant ever since.

Lisa’s birthday party is this evening and you briefly spoke with Rosie to go together, but she isn’t home yet. You caught her this morning to confirm plans, which she was all for, quickly agreeing before she left for work. 

Rosie’s late. You have half the mind to call her and ask her where she is. The party started at seven, and when you glance at the clock, it’s five past. It’s normal to arrive late to events, but it’s a good drive across town that Lisa would give you a hard time if you show up after Jennie. 

You contemplate leaving without Rosie when the front door swings open a minute later. 

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and my coworker needed help with her opening statement,” Rosie rushes out when she sees you sitting on the couch. “Give me, like, three minutes.” She doesn’t give you a chance to respond as she hurries to her room. 

You weren’t planning on drinking. You haven’t since you saw Nayeon because you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of Rosie. It’s the first time since that morning where you’ll actually be hanging out with her, even though your friends will be there too. 

You don’t keep track of time, but the sound of heels on the hallway floor brings your attention to Rosie. Your jaw nearly drops because she’s absolutely stunning. She’s wearing this brown sheer outfit? You don’t know how to explain it. It’s revealing, her pale skin looks luminescent under the fabric. Her top’s fucking open, stomach showing as it flows over her skin, rustling through her purse before her eyes meet yours. 

“Ready?” 

You clench your jaw, averting your gaze before returning. You prayed to whatever higher being that she doesn’t realize you were practically undressing her with your eyes. You try to play it cool, nodding with a soft yeah. 

Rosie nods, “Let’s go.” 

You desperately want to reach out, pulling her body against yours to whisper to her all the things you want to do to her, but you don’t. You just hoped that things would go back to normal, whatever normal was. 

-- 

Rosie laughs, shifting in your lap as Jennie tells her something about someone they know. You stifle a groan as that particular movement has your cock straining against your slacks. You readjust your legs, as Rosie settles more into you, having the nerve to loosely wrap her arm around your neck. You don’t know if she knows what she’s doing to you, but you have a feeling she does.

The party’s in full swing. A few of Lisa’s friends are singing off-tune while the rest are conversing, drinking. You could be enjoying it more, engaging more, if it wasn’t for the problem in between your legs. Something caused by the very woman who’s animatedly talking about another person they know. 

The drive from the apartment wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good. The conversation was stiff, forced, and the songs from Rosie’s phone filled the silence. You felt like you didn’t know what to say after the night with Nayeon, embarrassed that she caught you like that, even though your ex-girlfriend aggressively reminded you that you two weren’t dating. Rosie spent most of the ride on her phone, typing away to whoever or scrolling through her socials. 

Stop lights had never felt so long. 

It wasn’t until you parked that Rosie broke the ice. 

“I don’t want things to be weird between us,” Rosie said quietly, unbuckling her seatbelt to face you. “I’m sorry I was rude to Nayeon, and I’m sorry if I’ve been distant.” 

You changed your position, turning your head, “I’m sorry too. Let’s just go back to how things were before?” 

She tilts her head, expression unreadable that the hairs on your neck stand. There’s a sudden tension in the air that you can’t quite place, but being this close to her has your senses heightened. 

“Sure,” Rosie’s voice barely comes out in a whisper, “Let’s do that.” 

It was nice to see all the people here to celebrate Lisa, but what made it even nicer was Rosie was always next to you. She might not have been directly part of the conversations you were having, but she was always close by. At one point, her fingers threaded through yours, palm soft against your skin. 

When Jennie arrived, she immediately pulled you with her. She guided you to sit on the free space on the bench. You were about to move to make room when her hand was on your shoulder, stopping you, and she sat in between your legs. 

“What about you, oppa?” The question catches you off guard, breaking you out of your thoughts. You haven’t been paying attention to their conversation, so you have no substance to contribute. 

“You okay?” Rosie asks, a sly smirk on her face, confirming she knows exactly what she’s doing and she’s getting the reaction she wants. “You look… distracted.” 

Clearing your throat, hoping your voice doesn’t sound too hoarse, “Just great.” It must not work based on the chuckle she lets out. “Sorry, what are you two gossip queens talking about?” 

Jennie’s eyes narrow, huffing, “First of all, we weren’t gossiping. I was just telling Rosie about my trip to France with my mother. And to answer your question, I asked what was new with you.” 

Oh. 

That was easy to answer. There hadn’t been much going in your life since you last saw Jennie, which wasn’t too long ago. By the time you finish telling her about an upcoming business trip to the United States, a mischievous glint forms in her eyes. 

“Dating anyone?” The woman in your lap stiffens at the question. “Rosie mentioned that you had someone over recently.” 

“Oh well,” You shrug, not entirely sure how to answer. “Yeah, I did. It was just a one night stand.” 

“So you aren’t dating her?” Jennie prods as the tension rolls off Rosie’s body. 

“No, I’m not dating anyone.” You answer flatly, slightly annoyed with her sudden interest in your dating life. 

“Interesting,” Jennie nods, crossing her arms as she leans back. She seems satisfied with your answer, glancing at Rosie who still feels tense. You sneak a hand around her, arm resting on her waist as you give a reassuring squeeze. Her body relaxes into your touch. You missed how Jennie observed the small interaction, only hearing her say, “Very interesting.”  

-- 

This is dangerous, very dangerous. 

You didn’t know what was worse–getting caught or dying. Though there was a thrill that came with the former. 

You couldn’t pinpoint what changed, but as soon as you and Rosie entered the car, that same heavy tension was there. You couldn’t ignore it, and it didn’t seem like she could either, by the way she kept fidgeting in her seat as you drove home. 

It snapped the moment you hit a red light because suddenly Rosie’s lips were on yours. You couldn’t help the small moan being swallowed by her mouth eagerly on yours. You practically melted into the kiss, leaning over to the center console, but the sound of the car horn blaring behind you had you reluctantly pulling away. 

“How well can you drive?” Your eyes were focused on the road when Rosie’s hand rested on your thigh. You thought it was a weird question to ask. She had been in the car with you numerous times and you take safety seriously after a wicked crash when you were younger.

“Uh, pretty well?” You answered dumbly, braking slowly as the next traffic signal turned red. 

“Good,” Rosie nodded, hand inching dangerously closer to your crotch. 

“Chaeng,” You glanced down, watching her hand swiftly undo your belt. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

“Eyes on the road,” Rosie murmured. Her other hand reached over, unbuttoning your slacks just enough. “Don’t crash.” 

Another car horn went off, giving you no choice but to drive. You saw Rosie move the seat belt, freeing her movement as her body leaned over the center console. 

“Chaeng,” You groaned the moment her hand made contact, slipping your cock out of your briefs. 

“Don’t crash.”

You couldn’t make any promises. Your body jerked when you felt her lips gently brush over you, tongue licking slowly over the tip. 

You definitely weren’t expecting any of this tonight, but you weren’t against it. 

Even if it jeopardizes your safety and life.

“Fuck,” You mutter underneath your breath as Rosie’s mouth takes you in again. She goes lower on your length, the apartment building getting closer. The grip on the steering wheel tightens when you hit the back of her throat. “Chaeng,” You warn, your control slipping as your foot presses on the accelerator. 

Her mouth’s immediately off you, but she keeps her hand wrapped around you. Your body tenses, unsure of her next move. You focus entirely on the road, and not on her hand slowly stroking you. 

“I had a feeling you were big,” Rosie says casually, leaning her head on your shoulder. “Do you think it’ll fit?” She murmurs against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

Her lips press on your jaw, muscle tensing underneath her touch. You almost let out a sigh of relief when you take a tight turn into the driveway, but it comes out as a gasp because she decides to drop her head. 

“Dear fuck,” You groan, peeling into the assigned parking spot. By the time you put the car in park, your fingers thread through her hair, hips thrusting up. 

Hitting the back of her throat, Rosie shoots up, gasping for air before her warm, wet mouth’s around you once again. Your fingers tense, tugging at her hair when she chokes, throat constricting around your length. Your head falls back against the headrest as a pit forms in your stomach. 

“I’m, I’m—fuck,” You can barely start your sentence, grip loosening as your vision blurs. 

“You’re doing so well for me.” You know that Rosie’s talking to you, and the praise does something to you. “You deserve this,” She continues, hand steadily stroking with the occasional lick along the underside of your length. “I’ll be good for you. I’ll let you finish inside my mouth, yeah?” She goads, voice dropping an octave, driving you absolutely insane. 

“Fuck, yes, yes,” You chant, nodding desperately before making a mistake that ends you. 

You gain some semblance of control of your body, eyes opening and looking down right when Rosie’s pretty lips wrap around your cock. You whimper, hand shooting to the back of her head, as you release into her mouth. You choke out a few breaths, hips driving upward as you push her head farther along. You’re met with no resistance, feeling her throat relax when her nose touches your pubic bone. Your vision goes white, a guttural groan falls from your lips, feeling her cheeks hollow as you just keep cumming. 

You don’t know where you start and she ends, but when it does, Rosie lifts her head. You see the smallest dribble of your cum on her chin, painting a vivid image of her face covered in you. You watch her bring her thumb up, wiping it into her mouth, licking her lips before meeting your fucked out gaze. 

“Open your mouth,” You say quietly, lifting your hand to cup her chin. She follows your command, slowly opening her mouth, and all you see is pink, no trace of you inside. “Good girl,” You murmur, pulling her lips to yours.

Sighing contentedly, Rosie’s lips move languidly against yours. She pulls away after a few moments, resting her forehead on yours, “Sleep with me tonight?” 

Whatever she wants. 

--

No sleep was happening. 

You were naive to think you’d actually be sleeping. 

Once you made yourself somewhat presentable, in the event you saw another tenant, you let Rosie pull you out of the car. Your knees almost buckled the moment you stood, but she was there to catch you, giggling against your chest as she held you up. 

“You’re being dramatic,” Rosie commented as you draped an arm around her. 

“You sucked the literal life out of me,” You couldn’t help your bluntness. The hormones were still releasing and all you wanted to do was pull her into you more. “I could’ve crashed,” You added, unsure of how you made it, but thankful you did. 

“Well thanks,” Rosie said, a blush forming on her face that you don’t miss. “For, you know, keeping us alive.” 

You smiled, eyes drooping as Rosie dragged you to the elevator. She lightly scolded you when you’d drop your weight onto her, huffing cutely before snuggling deeper into your side. That was a win for you. 

When you finally made it inside the apartment, your body was on autopilot and went straight to your room, Rosie glued to your side. 

“Oppa,” Whining as she struggled to get out of your hold, “I want to change.” 

You hardly pay her any mind, falling onto your bed and taking Rosie with you. She shrieked, hitting your back. 

“Go change,” You mumbled, head turning to face her. “Come back when you’re done.” 

Rosie booped your nose with her pinky, getting up before you could react. You heard her giggles as she ran out of the room. You were sure you were sporting a dopey smile. 

You decided to follow suit. Changing in your mind was shrugging off your pants and haphazardly taking your shirt off, barely undoing any of the buttons. You tended to have a more thorough nightly routine that involved you sleeping in more clothes, but you were in too much of a relaxed state to care.

It could’ve been hours, dozing in and out of sleep, when it was really only ten minutes before Rosie returned. 

“No pajamas?” Rosie scoffed playfully. 

You opened one eye and saw her nightwear choice. An oversized shirt you recognized immediately since it was your shirt that went missing a few months ago. You chalked it up to being left on vacation, but here it was, barely covering the culprit’s body. 

“No clothes of your own?” You retorted, earning a smack on your back. 

“Whatever,” Point you. “Let’s just sleep now.” 

Sleep my ass. 

“I told you,” Rosie gasps, body trembling as she folds forward, lips pressed against yours. “I’d be good for you.” 

“So fucking good,” You moan watching your length disappear in between her legs. “Such a good girl.” 

You were on your side, your hand resting high on Rosie’s waist. You were trying to sleep, but she kept squirming. It wasn’t until she was pressed up against you that she stopped. 

Or so you thought she’d just fall asleep. 

As your body relaxed, inhaling the scent of Rosie so close to you, you felt her hand in between your bodies, landing perfectly on your crotch. She started slowly, cupping and rubbing your cock over the fabric. You couldn’t help the bodily response, hardening as time went on. 

“Chaeng,” You moaned softly against her head. 

“I want you,” Rosie whispered, her lips placing a kiss on the underside of your jaw. “Let me be good for you.” 

You didn’t know how she did it, but you were suddenly on your back with Rosie on top of you. You couldn’t remember if she wore anything underneath your shirt, but the warmth of her center over your briefs has you lost in the sensation. 

“You know,” Rosie’s hands worked quickly to pull you out, “I’m usually not this forward, but,” You whimpered when she guided your cock to her slit, “I’ve been thinking about this since you let me sit on your face while we were watching a show. Want to hear a secret?” 

You nodded, too entranced by her playing with your cock against her. She could be telling you that she committed murder. 

“I couldn’t help but touch myself again later that night,” Rosie inhaled sharply when she brushed you against her clit. “I saw your sweats tented and imagined what you’d feel like.” 

If you remembered correctly, that time she mentioned wasn’t too long after the first time. That made you dizzy to think about because she already came over your face, but she still touched herself after. 

And that was hot. 

“Guess I’m about to find out.” 

Bringing you to fill Rosie to the hilt, swallowing the moans she lets out against your lips. Your head falls onto the pillow, watching her steady herself as her body adjusts to the intrusion. 

“Am I doing well?” Her eyes are low, barely being held open as you watch the pleasure wash over her face. 

“You could do better,” You bring your hands behind your head. Her eyes widen when you roll your hips, telling her in a not-so-subtle way to show you just how good she could be. 

Maybe you should’ve kept your mouth shut, but you have never been known to say the most appropriate thing. Your words light a fire in her, and you see the switch happen in real time. 

“Better?” Rosie shifts slightly, resting her knees at your sides while keeping you snug in between her warm walls. “Okay,” She nods before slowly raising her hips as your cock appears. 

Rosie goes for the kill, slamming her body against yours. Your hands shoot to her hips, the move startling you. She repeats the motion again, again, and again. 

“Good?” Rosie pulls away, sitting upright. 

“So fucking good,” Is all you know how to say and you keep saying that when Rosie moves her body on top of you, undulating her hips. 

You’re hypnotized as she works herself over you, swiveling her hips and rolling her body. You watch her movement stutter, realizing quickly she found the perfect tempo and spot. You can’t ignore the knot forming as she continues her ministrations. She’s moving faster, signaling she’s close. You also can’t ignore how soaked it is between your bodies. 

“Such a good girl,” You mutter absentmindedly, her pace increasing as her inner muscles tighten. “Good girls cum, yeah?” 

Rosie nods, mewling in your lap, “Yes, I’m good. I know I’m being good.” She babbles, eyes rolling back as she tightens forcefully around you, body wracked with tremors as her orgasm hits. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Your hips move on their own accord, thrusting up into her as your hands pull her along your cock. “Do you want me to pull—”

Rosie vigorously shakes her head, collapsing into you as she grabs your hands off her hips. She pins your hands over your head. You feel her walls contract, squeezing you tightly that you can’t stop yourself from cumming, painting her insides white. Your lips find hers, a filthy moan leaves your mouth as you let everything out. 

“It’s so much,” Rosie gasps out, small aftershocks hitting her body as you roll your hips up, prolonging both your orgasms. 

You didn’t realize how hard you were gripping her hands until you felt a gentle squeeze. She’s a mess on top of you, hair wild and all over the place as she catches her breath. 

You kiss her temple, breathing hard as her body goes limp on top of yours. You carefully move to pull yourself out, wincing at the release in pressure. Her sudden intake of breath doesn’t go unnoticed, kissing her again. 

“Sorry,” You whisper. It all feels wet down there and the sicker side of you wants to see what it looks like, but you have a feeling this will happen again. 

“Sleep,” Rosie mumbles, burying her face into the crook of your neck. 

You chuckle, shaking your head. You agree that sleep is what should happen next, but you couldn’t leave her like this—as hot as it would be. 

“Let me clean up first,” You coo. She doesn’t respond, the light snores you hear below has you rolling your eyes.

You do your best to maneuver yourself out from underneath her, minimally disturbing her as you roll out of bed. You grab what you need from the bathroom to come back to Rosie laying on her stomach. You try to clean the mess you made, internally battling with yourself if you should move to her room. 

Rosie’s too adorable in your bed that you decide not to. You pull a pair of old shorts out, slipping it on her frame. When you're satisfied with what you could do, you shut the lights off. 

You’ll have to change your bedsheets at some point, but Rosie curling into your side as soon as you slide underneath the comforter makes you forget about it. 

-- -- 

You’re grinning as soon as you walk through the door. Your eyes immediately fall onto Rosie staring intently at her laptop screen as she chose the kitchen as her office for the day. 

“Jagiya,” You say affectionately when you’re behind her, kissing her sweetly on the top of her head. “I have news.” 

Rosie’s half paying attention, humming as you massage her shoulders. “What?” She asks distractedly, typing away.

“I’m moving out,” You announce, proud of the statement as the sound of her keyboard stops. 

“You’re what?” 

“I’m moving out,” You pull up the stool to sit next to her. 

Rosie raises an eyebrow, confused at what you’re saying because you’ve been living together for two years and dating for almost a year. 

It should’ve been a weird transition—the whole roommates turned lovers thing—but it actually wasn’t. It was almost too easy, in which the only problem you had was who’s room you were sleeping in. 

“Where are you going?” She asks pointedly, crossing her arms whenever she felt she was getting tested. 

It’s a test she’s thinking too hard about. 

You say an address, one you’re both familiar with, and you chuckle when you see her nose scrunch. 

“Uh… Okay…” Rosie trails off, puzzled at your news. “Did something happen?” 

You see the wheels turning in her head, thoughts and memories flickering through her mind as she racks her brain over what you’re getting at. 

“Nope,” You respond simply, popping the p. “Are you going to ask which unit?” 

“You’re being difficult,” Rosie huffs, shaking her head. “Where the fuck are you moving?” 

“This one,” You say simply, grinning as her expression goes blank. 

“What?” 

You reach out, pulling her body onto your lap. Nuzzling your face into her neck, “I’m moving in.” 

“You’ve been moved in, dumb dumb,” Rosie flicks your forehead. “What’re you getting at? I’m getting irritated.” 

“Well, oh love of my life,” You peck her cheek sweetly, ignoring the glare she sends your way. “Let’s turn my room into an office since we spend most nights in your room. Yours is bigger anyways.” 

It’s been gnawing at you for the past month. There were a few things you had been waiting for too before bringing it up. Number one being this promotion your bosses really want you to have with a larger increase in your pay. 

“What about all our clothes?” Rosie asks after a moment. Of course that would be on her mind, out of everything. 

“We just move some things around,” You say easily, shrugging because that isn’t that big of a deal. “I love you.” 

“And I love you too,” Rosie smiles, looping her arms around your neck as she leans forward. “But we really don’t have to do all that. I don’t mind working out here!” She gestures to the living room and kitchen. 

You shake your head, smiling softly, “I know you don’t, but I do. You should be able to separate the spaces.” 

It’s definitely more of a you thing because you want Rosie to be able to work without it bleeding into the areas she spends the most time in. She hasn’t complained, but you could tell she never actually relaxes when she’s home. 

“You’re sweet,” Rosie mumbles, lips pressed against yours that you find yourself smiling. You lower your arms, wrapping loosely around her waist to bring her closer. She lets out a hmph before melting into the embrace. “You’re so good to me.” 

The praises echoes in your mind, groaning softly when she moves her lips against yours. “So, so good,” She breathes out that the grip on her waist tightens. 

“Chaeng.” She’s highly aware of the effect that has on you, but you’re preparing yourself for what she does next. 

“I think I should reward you,” Rosie’s index finger trails down your jaw. “You take care of me so well.” 

You can’t even say anything as Rosie kisses you one last time before taking a step back, slowly dropping to her knees. The sight of her in between your legs is one you never tire of. 

“Be good baby,” You scratch the top of her head, undoing her ponytail as blonde hair frames her face. 

“For you? Always.” 

-- -- -- 

[sgt-tombstone]

different first meeting au

after Ghost escapes Roba, he runs and he doesn’t look back. a part of him doesn’t care enough to go back and kill him; the rest of him can’t stomach the thought. it’s cowardly, he knows, but he doesn’t care about that either. after eight months of being tortured, the last thing he wants to do is go back. but he also doesn’t want to go home.

he runs to Belize. there’s a safe house there, he knows; a well-stocked one. it’s deep in the jungle, far from civilization: just what he needs. it takes him a while, but he gets there, and the safe house is paradise in earth. hot and humid, with bugs the size of small dogs, but it’s the same forest that Chiapas was in, so he’s used to it, and this… is definitely not Chiapas.

Belize, he has to admit, is beautiful. the forest is a riot of color and sound, sunlight filtering through the dense foliage to glitter off of perpetually dew-coated leaves. the forest is thick enough that he never worries about running into anyone because no one in their right mind would be out here.

and the house… it was obviously built by someone with money burning a hole in their pockets. some rich drug lord, if Ghost had to guess; probably got arrested and their property confiscated by the British government before Belize gained independence. he doesn’t think too hard about it. the house itself is massive. two stories, nestled deep in the forest, with floor-to-ceiling windows facing the sunrise. if he squints a bit, he can almost see the Caribbean sea, or maybe it’s just isolation setting in. either way, he’s never been happier. the house even more well-stocked then he’d hoped; there are several month’s worth of food and supplies piled in the pantry and closets.

he originally only intended to stay for a few days, maybe a week. long enough to catch his breath, lick his wounds, and get back on his feet. but a week comes and goes and no one has found him. no one has shown up at the door threatening dishonorable discharge for going AWOL. technically, he thinks, he’s MIA. they probably think he’s dead. strangely, he doesn’t have any particular urge to disavow them of the idea.

as one week turns into two, he starts to relax. he keeps his semi-automatic by the door and his sidearm by his bed, just in case, but access to all the food he could want, no responsibilities, and nothing but calm surrounding him urges him to let his guard down. it’s a heady feeling after so long being on guard; his whole life, really.

he finds himself lying in bed at nights, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he ever has to go back. Roba is still alive, still a danger, and he should probably do something about that. he’s the only one alive to do so. but the alternative is even more alluring. he could simply… disappear. shed his skin like a snake and start over. take the opportunity for what it is and let Simon Riley die for good.

he’s been moving for so long that stopping feels foreign, and yet. good.

would it be so bad to stay? he could let it all go, all the pain and trauma and torment. the stress and rigidity and discipline. would it be so bad to lay it all down?

it’s a pervasive thought, and he tries to convince himself that it’s not fear. he doesn’t let him think about stagnation, about endless days stretching before him. he tries to enjoy every day, one day at a time, and resolutely shuts out the looming threat, bigger than even Roba: boredom.

he’s been moving for so long that stopping feels foreign.

at the four week mark, there’s a knock on the door, and every ounce of military training comes rushing back. he has his gun in his hands before he even registers the sound. no one should be here. no one should know this place exists. it’s completely off the map, known only to SAS who have used these lands for training. which can only mean…

they’ve found him. he tries to quell the panic that the thought sends arcing through his chest as he presses himself against a wall, breath held in his throat, gun clutched tightly. he’s not hiding, he’s not. he just wants them to go away.

the knock echoes again, heavy and insistent. yet still… polite. the fact that they haven’t busted the door down is shocking, if they know who he is, if they’re here for him. if they’re not…

he slowly approaches the door, weapon at the ready, and nearly shoots the man who falls through the entryway in the head before his reflexes kick in, just in time.

he studies the man for a moment, assessing. trying to figure out what the fuck to do, because it’s not every day that your safe house gets infiltrated by a passed out soldier bleeding heavily from his head and leg. finally, Ghost drags him further into the house so he can close the door, and grabs his first aid kit.

several hours later finds the man patched up as best as possible, given the limited resources, and propped up in one of the spare bedrooms. Ghost sits on the floor next to the bed and tells himself that it’s for security and not because the man is unfairly attractive. young, maybe a little too young for his tastes, with a stupid looking mohawk and a couple of inches missing, but what he lacks in height, he makes up for in bulk. his lips are caught in a perpetual pout, jawline and cheeks accented by a light brushing of stubble, grown out a bit from being stuck in the jungle for days, if not weeks.

he’s obviously SAS, and if Ghost had kept track of time, he wouldn’t have been so shocked; the SAS always sends a new batch of fresh-faced hopefuls to Belize this time of year. this one must’ve gotten separated from his squad. it happens with every new group; at least one wanders off into the jungle and usually is never heard from again. this one got lucky.

he wakes up a few hours later, and Ghost forces himself to pretend that the man’s piercing blue eyes aren’t the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. the first words out of the man’s mouth are, “I need to get back,” which is odd because the first words out of Ghost’s mouth are, “I’m not going back.”

stalemate.

the man, Soap, he learns, is an enigma. he’s grumpy about his leg and the fact that he won’t be able to walk for at least two weeks, which is fair. he’s cheerful, though, in a way that Ghost can’t fully wrap his head around. he thanks Ghost profusely for saving him, which Ghost shrugs off because what was he supposed to do, let the man bleed out in his foyer?

Ghost tries not to let on that he’s former (current?) SAS, which is a doomed attempt from the start; looking the way he does and acting the way he does, he could never be anything hut military, and Soap’s not an idiot. he sees the muscle mass and the facial scarring and the close-cropped hair and clocks him in an instant. Ghost finds that he doesn’t really mind. even worse, he finds that he’s kind of missed it. the discipline, the camaraderie, the purpose.

having Soap in the house is… something. infuriating, at times, because the man could talk a wall into crumbling if he set his mind to it, but it’s mostly relaxing in a way Ghost isn’t quite ready to explore yet. Soap’s presence, his constant chatter, highlights just how lonely Ghost had been. he finds himself gravitating towards the other man as often as possible, finding excuses to be in the same room no matter what they’re doing. he learns that Soap likes explosives and baking, that he has a big family back in Scotland, that he joined the army at 16 and he’s hoping to be the youngest candidate to pass SAS selection. Ghost doesn’t like the way his smile drops whenever he says that, reminded of his injury and the fact that he’s probably not even considered a candidate anymore.

as Soap heals, something in Ghost does, too. every passing day makes the restlessness under his skin itch more, makes his fingers ache for the pressure of a trigger. nightmares of Roba’s torture shift to dreams about Roba’s death, about bloody hands and slit throats, but not his own.

still, he’s not ready to give up the tranquility yet. the itch hasn’t gotten bad enough to don his fatigues once more, and Soap doesn’t seem to be in a rush either. even after his leg heals, he seems content to lay around the house, soaking up sun and sleep like a lazy teenager. which… he’s only eighteen, so Ghost supposes it’s not wholly inaccurate. not that Ghost is any better; his mid-20s body is more than willing to take full advantage of the rest he gives it, the rest he’s never been able to have before.

one month turns to two, and still they linger. they linger around each other, too. somewhere along the line, Soap started to let his gaze wander over the shape of Ghost’s body when he thinks he’s not looking, and Ghost would feel flattered if he weren’t the only human being in two hundred square miles, at least. Soap is a hot-blooded soldier stuck in the middle of the jungle; of course he’s making eyes at the only thing with a pulse in sight. but Ghost can’t deny his own growing attraction to the other soldier, built day by day, shitty joke by shitty joke. it’s their favorite pastime, even if they both profess to hate each other’s jokes, and one day, Soap makes a joke so bad that Ghost can’t help but to lean over and kiss him, just to shut him up.

it’s like a dam opening, and every surface in the house gets christened. every ounce of pent-up frustration and desire gets poured out in between them, soaked up into bare skin and open mouths. but even this is, ultimately, relaxing. there’s no rush, no sense of urgency, and something about it makes Ghost’s skin prickle. he can tell it’s getting to Soap, too.

three months after Soap’s arrival, Ghost tells him about Roba, tells him about his torture and his escape, tells him that Roba is still out there somewhere. tells him that you get six months of MIA before they consider you dead. it’s too late for Ghost, but it’s not too late for Soap. he could still go back.

together, they make the decision.

together, they set out, leaving the house behind. it feels weird, being in fatigues again, holding his weapon again, marching alongside someone again.

he’s been stopped for so long that moving feels foreign, and yet. good.

together, they kill Roba. it’s not easy and it’s not painless, but they work as well together as Ghost thought they would; they meld together seamlessly, following each other’s unspoken commands as if they were in each other’s heads, and the sparks of satisfaction that race along Ghost’s spine are only partially due to Roba’s rotting corpse that they leave behind.

when Ghost picks up the skull from the floor, the same one that Roba had used to torture him all those months ago, and carefully carves the front off, Soap doesn’t question it. and when Ghost pulls a black balaclava out of his pack and carefully affixes the skull plate to it, Soap stands by patiently, watching without a trace of judgment. and when Ghost pulls it on for the first time, settling the hard bone over his own face, gazing out through white eye sockets, he doesn’t miss the way Soap’s own eyes darken at the sight.

with an unspoken agreement, they head back to the UK. back home. getting out of Mexico is hard, especially once the US border control gets involved, but a flash of Soap’s rank opens doors. sergeant, Ghost thinks approvingly; he’s never thought to ask before, but it suits Soap.

when they get to the UK, all hell breaks loose. Price is, to put it mildly, livid, but Ghost can see the true concern and relief tucked under his ridiculous mustache and boonie hat. it’s been a year, almost to the day, since Ghost had gone missing, and four since Soap went AWOL. their return causes a stir around base, and the upper brass push for both of them to go through selection again, but Price pushes back just as hard, and within months, they’re both reinstated and under Price’s command in the 141.

they keep their relationship secret, or as secret as they can, because neither of them is nearly as subtle as they think they are, but Price doesn’t care. they’re essentially trauma bonded; do not separate. eventually, Ghost will tell Price what they did together, what they left in their wake at Chiapas, but he doesn’t need to know for now. it’s enough that both of them seem settled, seem happy. it’s enough that they’re both alive.

every single night, as Ghost settles into his uncomfortable barrack cot, the sounds of sleeping soldiers seeping through the walls, Soap curled up in his arms, he thanks whichever higher power is listening that he didn’t stay in that safe house.

[adrixivy]

Imagine the Avengers have a shared album. It was an album that they all made so they can update on what they’re doing and it was all Peter’s suggestion so the team could bond more. Yet Peter changes it up one day by dumping pics of the Avengers from afar and they’re all looking up, wondering where the fuck is Peter taking the photos from.

Then Peter dumps 0.5 pics of Tony when he was sleeping or Tony simply allowed it because he was tired to say anything and it was the most ridiculously outrageous photos of Tony that Tony is immediately up from his chair in the lab and finding Peter, yelling about him deleting the photos.

Peter only does it when Tony hasn’t eaten a full meal or anything in a day or has not slept at all since he was busy overworking himself. And it always works.

Soon, the shared album that was previously about updates became a place to dump the most ridiculous photos of the Avengers or the shenanigans they do that it would be a PR nightmare for their PR team to manage(SHIELD is definitely their PR team even though Nick Fury is not paid enough for it)

Clint, dumping photos of Bucky and Steve on the couch together: *captioned ‘Look at this lovebirds!’*

Bucky checks his phone and is immediately showing Steve and the two glare at the vent at the left corner of the room where they hear distant giggles as Clint crawls away

Peter sending a photo of Tony and Stephen making out in the kitchen: *captioned ‘EW MR STARK GET A ROOM!’*

Tony pauses and pulls away from Stephen who frowns when he pulls his phone out. Tony gasped in horror and showed the phone to Stephen before spotting his son and immediately charging at him (“Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark, you get your tiny ass here right now!”) Stephen sighs and sends the cloak after his lover and son. Cloak wraps around Peter who screams for mercy and Tony grinned

Bruce sending a picture of Sam drinking a Caprisun: *Captioned ‘Peter I think that’s yours..’*

Peter suddenly appears and tackles Sam, screaming that it was his last one and the man now owns him a box. Sam is screaming back, saying ‘Get Stark to buy that, he has money!’ and the two is fighting till Steve pulls them apart

Natasha sends a photo of Clint surrounded by fire as he burns down their kitchen for the fifth time this month: *captioned ‘Guys he’s at it again’*

Tony immediately presses a button that shoots out foam that extinguishes the fire from the ceiling, covering Natasha and Clint in it. Natasha is fuming and Tony just realised he’s mistake and locked down his lab.

Rhodey sends a picture of Tony partying in his suit during that one party he did when he was dying. Tony is embarrassed of how idiotic he was. Peter is cackling before he’s immediately silenced by a glare from the older man

Tony starts to mess with Steve one day after he finds records of him in the past when he went through his father’s things. Tony sends a photo of Steve pre-super serum that he happened to find and Steve rolls his eyes and groans when Bucky laughs at him, making fun of the blonde (“The dwarf who was like ‘I can do this all day’ with a bleeding nose, HAH!”) The rest of the Avengers laugh, snicker or is genuinely surprised how skinny Steve actually was

Tony uploads a black and white video of Steve in the army in the past, seemingly forming a plan before the camera cuts to Bucky’s photo in a pocket watch as Steve checks the time. He quickly shuts the pocket watch and hides it. Bucky is slightly flustered and Steve is embarrassed. (“Tony where the hell are you getting this!”)

(⬆️Inspired by that one scene in Captain America: The First Avenger!)

I can picture Peter and Wanda sending edits of the Avengers they found on Tiktok to the album or videos they found online of the Avengers epic fails. Since they’re probably the only two who has Tiktok or scroll through social media and definitely wanted the Avengers to see this. Or simply any news that they find hilarious or the Avengers needed to know. Tony joins on the news because Friday always updates him

Wanda sending an edit of Natasha on TikTok: *Captioned ‘Look at this hot momma!’

Natasha is flattered, chuckling as she rewatches the edit and wondering where people got this clips from.

Peter sends a video titled ‘The Avengers Fails!’ which show Tony being thrown back to a signboard, Steve falling from a building with a yell, Thor being thrown back to the hulk which the hulk is angered by and he’s thrown again at a billboard, Wanda tripping over a step, Clint being dragged along in the air at the back of the Quinjet screaming, Bucky’s arm being thrown in Tony’s face, Rhodey and Tony crashing into each other, Stephen accidentally letting out an ancient monster and desperately trying to close it back up and finally Natasha’s gun being slapped away by a giant when she shoots it. The Avengers are immediately embarrassed and Friday plays the video to get their egos in check once a month. Peter has multiple compilations of fails online so he isn’t embarrassed. He believes it’s part of his spidey persona so he embraces it with open arms. The Avengers find it impossible to embarrass him when he’s Spiderman.

Tony sends an online magazine, specifically one page where it’s all about Steve. And his magnificent ‘America’s Ass’. Steve sighs and knows Tony has something to do with the magazine when he actually doesn’t. Bucky secretly downloads the page

[lexirosewrites]

hello again, it's the eddie's leather jacket candle anon! i wanted to submit something for slick sunday last week but couldn't think of anything, and then at 1am monday this popped into my head while i was trying to sleep lol. based on the idea that you smell like the people you're around a lot or were recently near

thinking about b!steve, overcompensating for being a beta by trying to be perfect instead. he tries to get good grades, does his best at sports, gets in with the popular crowd, dutifully obeys his father's stubborn insistence on taking the stupid vitamins for his stupid deficiency everyday... only for canon events to happen, and effort is worthless without promising results in the eyes of his alpha parents.

the summer of ’86, steve gets in a fight to end all fights with his parents when they find out about his “dalliances with” (crush on) a!eddie, and b!robin and her parents offer their basement for as long as steve needs it. robin shares a bathroom with steve and notices the pill bottle she keeps in there is emptying faster than normal. when she asks if he’s been taking some of her pills, he shrugs and apologizes for using her vitamins without asking, but they were the same kind he’s been taking since puberty hit and he’ll buy more if she’ll tell him which drugstore carries it since he can’t seem to find it on his own.

except they’re puberty blockers. omega puberty blockers. robin takes them on purpose because having a period is enough trouble without the heats, but steve has everything he’s ever known about himself and his life as a harrington turned on its head. a lot of the things he’d been scolded for (things that in hindsight are omega traits, like the “stomachaches” he gets every 3 months because of his “vitamin deficiency”) suddenly make a lot of sense. they call joyce, who lives in hawkins again and has dealt with a son going through omega puberty, and ask for her advice. through their combined research, steve concludes the best course of action is to taper his dose until he’s completely weaned off the blocker, that way the change doesn’t happen all at once.

cut to a month later. at hellfire, which now takes place in the basement of wayne’s new government hush-money house, eddie notes that dustin smells weird different, to which dustin replies he’s using a new deodorant and he even showered right before he got here today and why the fuck are alpha noses so frickin’ sensitive. eddie says whatever, as long as it keeps the BO out of his nostrils.

eddie smells dustin’s oddly pleasant strong new deodorant when he goes to make a return at family video. he asks robin if she started using the same deodorant as dustin and she whacks him in the head with the tape because no, dingus, dustin was here earlier borrowing neverending story again, dingus. when eddie asks why steve isn’t there for him to flirt with, robin says he had to go home sick. eddie eagerly offers to bring steve cold medicine or food or go to keep him company, but robin shuts that down harsher than necessary. eddie can take a hint, steve just needs the day off. as he leaves, the familiar beamer in the parking lot doesn’t strike him as odd.

jonathan doesn’t usually ask eddie for weed, especially since argyle has way better shit, but eddie stops by the byers-hopper residence anyway for a covert drop. he runs into joyce, who apparently shares the same taste in deodorant as dustin, and asks why everyone’s getting the same new deodorant, only for her to tell him that the only thing that’s changed with her is nursing steve back to health from his terrible cold. they seem to reach a realization at the same time, and eddie decides he needs to ask steve where the hell he’s getting this deodorant and why it smells better from him than when dustin wears it. (joyce, infinitely wiser in her years, reaches the correct conclusion.)

eddie manages to sneak via window into the basement where steve is staying, bringing a care package: cold medicine, a hot thermos of wayne’s soup, and a few cassettes of Actually Good music. the plan is to hang out for a few hours, maybe set the mood a little, and if eddie can’t actually get the words out he can play the cassette that contains a recited confession on how much eddie likes steve and his stupid, sexy everything and could steve please, please, please think about giving eddie a chance. he only gets halfway through the window, then falls in the rest of the way at the sight and smell and sound of steve in a full-blown heat, wearing eddie’s battle vest and fingering his dripping cunt while mewling eddie’s name. eddie can only appreciate the situation for 2 seconds tops before the panic and instincts kick in. he bursts into the house’s ground floor, tosses the care package to a bewildered robin, and halfway out the door yells that his rut just triggered and he needs to leave.

after a few very turbulent days, eddie’s planning a new strategy for How to Woo Steve Harrington when steve himself barges into eddie’s room and kisses him senseless. they talk about steve being an omega, their mutual attraction, and what that all means in the long run, which leads to flirting and ends with steve deepthroating eddie and eddie eating out steve’s pussy.

a year later, eddie tenderly kisses the mating bite on steve’s neck as they cradle their newborn child.

Steve’s omega status being hidden/suppressed by his parents for years is so genuinely awful… and such great angst. he believed them so completely that his entire identity is altered and he has to learn how to function as an omega, but Eddie will take care of him and treat him right!!! this is adorable😭💕

[milk-breadx]

with a ring pop, i'll get down on one knee - m. s.

mike schmidt x gn!reader

Fluff! ??? to Fiancés?!

A late night trip and you three stop by a convenience store. Abby finally gives you two the push you needed.

word count: 1,440 words

warnings: movie spoilers?

"Okay, okay, okay. 80's or 50's?"

"Really? These are the best options?"

"We've been here for a while, I think we've exhausted all other interesting options." You reach for another bottle of soda, opening it and letting the fizz settle down before taking a sip. "Now, pick,"

The two of you were perched on top of the trunk of his car. Very late at night, the nearest landmark being a nearby convenience store where you bought some chips and drinks to enjoy while you wait 'till you both weren't feeling droopy to continue your road trip. Abby, sound asleep at the back seat, who said she wanted to "stay up with you guys", was very eager to go on this trip. Especially since she rarely gets to go out with you and her big brother. Poor thing fell asleep and you didn't have the heart to wake her, so Mike stayed to watch her while you went to purchase some refreshments. Now, at the back of his car, you two talked nonsense for what felt like forever.

"Uhh, the latter." He takes a chip from the bag and eats it, all the while your eyebrows furrow at his answer. 

"Really?" The tone was laced with disbelief and you eagerly wait for his defense.

"What? You'd rather pick the 80's?"

"Uh, yeah? against the 50's who wouldn't?" You playfully nudge him on the shoulder, unknowingly bringing up his memories from his last job as a night guard at the pizza place. Your eyes widened when the realization hit you. "...Oh."

"Idiot." Mike flicks your forehead and you raise your palm to cover it after he does. You remembered that morning at the hospital when you received his call and rushed there only to find him injured, officer Vanessa unconscious, and Abby scared to leave his side. You could've sworn you almost passed out after hearing what happened a few hours before.

Ghost children possessing robot animals? Murderer who wears a yellow bunny suit? It all sounded funny but the serious looks in their eyes and their very REAL injuries made you believe them. Since then, you've been more active in helping them out. Whether it be moving in with them to help with the bills and keeping Abby company while Mike's out to look for a job or planning something for the three of you to enjoy, all to get them to recover and forget the whole ordeal about the pizzeria.

So now, 7 months after the incident, Mike got a job, and you both saved up some money to go on a trip for the weekend.

"I didn't realize! Sorry!" You sheepishly replied and Mike gave a small laugh. That moment made you pause for a bit. Mike had no time to relax for a long time, so it was refreshing to see him smile and laugh.

"When do you think we should get going? It's probably midnight by now and I am dying to sleep. Y'know? While you drive us the rest of the way there." He says and you playfully rolled your eyes at him.

"Hey! You said you were gonna stay up with me like I stayed up when you drove!" Mike shakes head and continues eating his chips. 

"No, no, I don't remember making that kind of agreement." A playful smirk starts making its way to his face. "I do recall you insisting to stay awake with me even though I said you should go to sleep," This little-

"Yeah! Because we're traveling at night, can't have us end up in a ditch somewhere?!"

The car door opens and shuts. Turning around, you see Abby rubbing her eyes as she makes her way towards both of you. Mike calls out to her and helps her sit in between the two of you.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Her droopy eyes turn to you and then to Mike.

"You looked like you were deeply asleep. Sorry, did we wake you?" Grabbing a cold bottle of water, bought specifically for Abby, you tried opening it. Noticing this, Mike grabs the bottle and opens it before handing it to his sister. You whispered "I loosened it for you" to him before Abby speaks again.

"No. But are we there yet?"

"Not yet. We stopped here because we were getting sleepy and wanted to rest for a bit before we go." You handed her the plastic bag that had 2 bags of chips left for her to pick. "You excited to be there already?"

She picks one from the bag and opens it, grabbing a chip and eating it. "Yeah. Can we go on more trips soon?"

You and Mike share a look, unsure how to respond, so he answers for you. "We'll see, Abs,"

She doesn't respond to that. Instead, she asks you another question. "Are you going to keep staying with us? I like when you're around."

"Of course. I'll be here until Mike kicks me out." She chuckles at your response before turning to Mike. "You're not gonna kick them out, are you?"

"We'll see, Abs."

You playfully glare at him and he shrugs. 

"Why don't you two just get married?"

Abby continues to eat, unaware how her question sounded to the both of you, but aware of your unique kind of friendship where borderline lovers was the most appropriate thing to actually call what you and Mike had. The fumble of words from you two comes quick but Abby doesn't take back her suggestion.

"You two have known each other for years and we've been living together for months now. I know you two have arguments sometimes, but you always work it out." She whispers the last part but the both of you hear it clear as day. "Plus you said you like each other-"

Two voices yelled out, "Abby!" You and Mike look at each other, the realization setting in that she's right. When you two looked away, silence ensued. Mike was the first to speak. "Maybe...maybe marriage... is too..."

"Fast?"

"Yeah,"

Abby's smile grows but she's tired of waiting for the two of you awkwardly fumble your words and just wants the two of you to get together. Yes, she's noticed the way you take care of her and Mike and how Mike takes care of you. How the house has been much livelier with you around and how well the three of you have been since living under the same roof.

Mike's also noticed how much better the two of them have been since you've gotten closer to them. He can't deny he's embarrassed but also flustered when the parents of Abby's classmates mistaken the both of you as her parents--A story for another time. He's open to the idea. Looking back to the times you two stayed up to watch some popular sitcom that was playing on the TV or messing up a new dish you three wanted to try, Mike really felt at ease those days. And the fact that Abby loves you too is an added bonus.

"Just propose already! You can get married years from now, just ask them already!" Abby grabs his shirt and you laugh as you see her futile attempt to shake him. 

Mike sees you and realizes he loves you. He cherishes you and wants nothing more than to see you smile and laugh over and over again. To be part of your life for the rest of his.

"Okay, okay, Abby stop." He grabs a hold of her hands before looking at you. "Will you-"

"You already don't have a ring, at least get down on one knee!" You laugh again at Abby.

Mike sighs and is ready to get up and down on the ground when he quickly runs to the convenience store. You and Abby share a look of confusion until he returns, unwrapping something in his hands. You couldn't see what it is until he got down on one knee and presented it to you.

He says your name softly and you get down from the trunk in front of him, smiling at the ring pop he's proposing with. "Will you marry me?"

You nod, giving him a small yes and let him put the ring pop on your ring finger. Too excited, Abby gets down and hugs you both so hard, you three almost topple over. But none of you cared. Abby was happy to see you and her big brother finally get together. Mike, relieved you said yes and was willing to be with him. You, happy to have these two brighten up your life.

I swear I was gonna finish that ushijima fanfic first but plans have changed and I have a new husband(a whole series was planned out in my delulu head)-

work by milk-breadx. DO NOT COPY/REPOST/MODIFY WORKS WITHOUT PERMISSION

[mizgnomer]

Behind the Scenes of The Giggle - Part Six Excerpt from Benjamin Cook's DWM #597 Interview with Catherine Tate (with guest appearance by David Tennant)

"Do you know, we went to an escape room with Neil? He loves them. It was his birthday while we were here…” [ Neil Patrick Harris ] celebrated his 49th while filming Doctor Who in Bristol last month. By day, he donned the Toymaker’s tux and shimmied gleefully on the streets. By night, he took David and Catherine out to dinner, then on to Worlds Collide, Bristol’s best – and only – Doctor Who-themed escape room. Players are given 60 minutes to work out how to close a tear in the fabric of spacetime, before the Cybermen break through (the Toymaker has fought the Cybermen!!). “He’d booked it out,” says Catherine. “He’d shut down the whole place [for the night] and they let us in.” “Proper Hollywood,” says David. “Innit, though! That’s old money, that is,” she laughs. “And Jodie [Whittaker’s Doctor] turns up,” says David. “She was on a PA. As if –” “– as if she’s calling you. And there was a scarf. And a sonic screwdriver.” “And a Cyberman.” “A Cyberman head, yeah.” Aren’t Catherine and David… you know, overqualified for a Doctor Who escape room? “I was quite hopeful,” he says. “I thought, these are puzzles I’m going to be able to solve. But then–” “There were chess pieces,” says Catherine, in much the same tone of voice in which Donna once informed the Doctor that Santa’s a robot. “I mean, oh my God! Sorry, but how the hell –?” Neil was brilliant at it, though. “He was annoyingly good.” The Toymaker and his games are quite notorious. “Yes, because then he went, ‘Let’s do another one! We’re gonna do the World War Two room.’ That’s when I came to life.” “It’s true,” says David. “I loved that one. It was great. We were spies and we’d infiltrated a Nazi bunker.” “It involved a bit more role play, didn’t it? Very Toymaker. And zome outrageous ack-sents!” “But after the Doctor Who one,” says Catherine, “it was clear that Neil and David were better at it. There was a clear division between the coulds and the could-nots. So Neil and David went into one room, and me, [executive producer] Phil Collinson, and Charlie [De Melo], who plays… is it Charles Banerjee? [glimpsed in last year’s Christmas Day trailer, rushing through the rain towards Mr Emporium’s toyshop] – went in another room. I’d said to Phil and Charlie, ‘Let’s cut the deadwood and go into a room on our own.’ You do it against each other, and see who gets out first. “So me, Charlie and Phil had a right old laugh,” recalls Catherine, cracking up, “while David and Neil went off and… got out much quicker. Midway through ours, they’d already finished and were watching us scrabble around trying to get out of our German bunker.” She chuckles at the memory. “Then suddenly through the PA comes: ‘DONNAAA!!!’” David says nothing, but he looks very pleased with himself.

Also, from Charlie De Melo's Instagram:

I'm struggling to think of a stranger evening than one, last June, doing a @bbcdoctorwho themed escape room, with The Doctor, Donna and the Toymaker. David and Neil, it turns out, are *very* good at escape rooms. The rest of us, less so. They rushed around the room, picking up clues and turning switches and all manner of other things, whilst the rest of us looked on, utterly bemused (& a little tooty in my case). So on they powered. Leaving us scratching our heads in a room full of disembodied Cybermen ones. Before confusion could give way to frustration, the tannoy crackled. It was David. They'd somehow managed to finish the entire thing whilst we all had stood still where we'd been left. Although he'd lost his lilting, melodic, Scottish brogue. He was now The Doctor. And in the Doctor's voice he began barking orders at us, talking us through the puzzles and guiding us out of whatever wibbly wobbly mess we were in and back to the safety of Bristol. "Donna! Quick! You have to get them out of there, the Cybermen are coming!"

For other posts in this set, please see the #whoBtsGiggle tag. The full episode list is [ here ]

[hyewka]

Because I’m currently pissed off ive decided to manifest it into positive energy 🙂!!! I present to you a scenario of very loud and annoying neighbour Yeonjun, like just criminally loud neighbour throughout every. single. night. Absolutely no rest ever since he moved in.

warnings: sub!yeonjun, grinding, slapping lol, dacryphilia, noona kink sorta

On good days, it’d be what you think is him producing music because at least your walls aren’t vibrating. Worst days? It would hands down be the ragers he throws practically every week as if he was still in college. Sex being a close second—to give credit, he has toned it down the past couple of weeks.

“We take your complaints very seriously, but please cut him some slack Miss. He’s still in college you know how…they get,” So…he is still in college. And to the newfound information, you guess he’s also under twenty three. It explains… a lot. “Between you and me, he’s practically scraping to get money for rent enough as it is.”

You hold back a scoff and instead try to be empathetic so you give your best attempt at a smile to the office worker. You could handle a few months of sleepless nights before he’s eventually evicted, can’t you?

So, just like that, you give up the weekly complaints you send to the landlord.

…Is what you chose to believe as you try your hardest to drown out the noise next door, pillow pressed against your ear with sheer strength before you finally give out, groaning with agony. If you can’t get anybody to listen to your complaints, then who will?

Communication.

Like a light bulb lit above your head you scramble out of your bed, not in the mood to change out of your nightgown, slipped on your slides, and you were now prepared to pay a visit to your more than lovely neighbour, Choi Yeonjun.

You knock a few times. No response.

Before you could get your tenth knock the door swings open to reveal the monster who has been tormenting you for the last few months. You hold up a polite smile, though your eyes unintentionally trail down to his exposed collarbones. A white tank top, a white tank top, a white— “Hey?”

Your eyes widen, getting flustered as you clear your throat, straightening your posture. “Um, so, hi! As you know I’m—"

“Y/N, neighbour 331.” Your brows raise impressed that he actually knew. “The one who’s been submitting complaints on me every Friday, right?”

Oh. He does not like you. Your smile falters for a second before you compose yourself and nod. “I just wanted to come to you instead of going to the landlord tomorrow morning, think it’s better if we communicate.”

He contemplates for a second before nodding, arms crossed lazily, eyes urging you to continue. “…I want to communicate that I am not very…appreciative of the noise every night. Well, I’m sure you already know—and I wish for you to turn it down a notch.”

Yeonjun gives you a tight smile, eyes turning into crescents, with his hand placed behind his door. “Sure.” —is all he says before the door’s slammed shut in your face.

Not taking into account the rudeness of what he just did, you think that was a success. So you take a second to commend yourself and pat yourself on the back, heading to your flat.

To your luck, he goes through with his word and actually keeps it down.

For one night.

You think maybe if you go knocking enough times, he'd follow through each time (which he does) and eventually learn to turn it down without you telling him to (which he doesn't).

You're faced with him again, patience holding by a thread, "Keep. It. Down." you grit out the moment his door opens, eyes with intention to kill.

"Damn. Okay. You can chill out."

And then again.

"Turn your TV down."

And...again.

"I would appreciate it if you turned it down a bit."

It was a daily thing to get up from the comfort of your bed and storm up to his door, your knuckles bruising from the abundance of times you banged on his door.

"At this point, might start thinking you're really into me." You stare at him in disbelief, mouth hung open not able to process the absolute audacity. You're even more pissed when he cheekily points out: "You're drooling."

You immediately shut your mouth before rolling your eyes to absolute oblivion. You hate his guts. Even more when you wipe at your mouth experimentally and do in fact find that he wasn't lying. "Just—just turn it down!"

You truly did not like him, nothing more nothing less. You couldn't even find him more than averagely attractive so there definitely weren't any underlying feelings. You just thought he was way too incredibly cocky for your taste, too unbothered of his surroundings; to you it looked like all that mattered to Yeonjun was himself. Which is a big turn off.

You were definitely all too aware of the numerous times his eyes would, with absolutely no shame, look you up and down, not caring to be discreet about checking you out. Each time you'd scoff, because god, does he remind you of all the reasons you hated college.

You didn't think he was at peak of childishness until the one time you saw Yeonjun arriving at his door as you struggled to key your door open with your sort-of-boyfriend slash co-worker Doyoung (which was another issue you had to deal with all around) beside you, waiting to finally finish off what you started back at his car.

"Hey, hey let me try." Doyoung offers and you let him, awkwardly making way for him to attempt to open your jammed door.

It wasn't hard to feel Yeonjun's quick glances over at you before he says nothing and disappears into the black hole that was his flat. When you came over to his door the next day, the daily reminder to keep it quiet, he does one of his cheesy fuck boy lines from a 2000s movie without fail. Except he doesn't end it there.

He asks you a question you would've snorted at if it wasn't for the fact that it wasn't very humorous to have an annoying neighbor busying themselves with your personal life.

"Was that your boyfriend? Yesterday?" His very weird attempt at keeping his voice monotone and almost nonchalant has you puzzled...not in a good way.

You resort to not answering his question. You didn't have to. "From a scale of one to ten, how valuable is that information to you? It's supposed to be zero lovely neighbour."

"Well, you—you should keep it down next time," he starts, and you're confused. No way. "Couldn't sleep with all the bed creaking."

You could've even retort back and say something like 'oh, now you know how I feel', too embarrassed to say anything before just storming to your door. You did not like Choi Yeonjun.

At all.

All of that was before being stuck in an elevator with a more than a nervous wreck plus one.

"Can you calm down? They'll be here in like, less than a few minutes." You aren't too great at comforting, clearly, as he gets a lot more jittery. "Fuck! It's been five entire minutes!” —Not true. “What if—what if we just die in here, holy shit holy shit." Yeonjun was spiraling as he tries to pace in the confined space, eyes wide with panic, biting down on his bottom lip practically breaking down right in front of your eyes.

"Hey, hey look, just sit. On the floor. Calm down, and collect yourself."

To your surprise, he stops pacing, for a second looks at you before taking a breath and slumping down to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. You decide to also sit down, albeit, the awkward distance between the two of you making it less than comfortable. It feels like a few minutes before your ears pick up little sniffles.

Oh well, shit. He was crying. You attempt to not look at him, he was clearly more than vulnerable but your eyes can't help but slowly trail to your side. The confident, cocky neighbor you've had to deal with for the past five months was indeed crying.

Your perception of Yeonjun changes in an elevator that day, just a tiny bit. When he starts to apologize through his sobs, that had quickly picked up sound, you feel something. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just—fuck—"

"What happened?" You don't care, you think you don't, but you still end up asking. And listening.

"Don't judge." he says with that slight break of his voice and you nod.

Your eyes dart back and forth, hyper focused on every feature of his face as he turns to you, venting all of his worries to someone he most likely finds annoying the same way you find him—red runny nose, fox-like eyes already turning bloodshot, the way his perfectly trimmed brows furrow every few sentences like he was thinking over what he should reveal to a stranger that hates him, or his quivering bottom lip whenever he'd take a second to take a breath—your perception of him had definitely changed. Just a tiny bit.

You have no idea what possessed you to reach your thumb out for under his eyes—to wipe. Like you knew him at all. As if he wasn't the neighbor who had been the cause of all the sleepless nights you experienced. It was something about his pouty lips, pinkish tone from all the crying, making you behave so oddly. “Thanks…” Yeonjun’s strained whisper combined with his tears bordering his waterline had got you even more entranced and holy shit— you quickly retract your hand from his face, instead focusing on bright yellow light on your floor number.

“Mhm.” It was a panic hum, like any minute now you would do a very impulsive and frankly out of character thing.

But thankfully his paranoia was proven to not be true as just a few minutes go by before the elevator doors open to reveal someone from what you assume to be the rescue service.

When you get out, Yeonjun is rather quick to go to his flat, avoiding all small talk and shutting his door behind him almost as quick as he ran to it. And as for you, all night is spent sleepless once more. And the cause being once again, Yeonjun. Except it's not his music, his movies, or sex. He keeps oddly quiet that day. No, it's the short dream you have that scares you awake.

Yeonjun. Crying. And a sex dream. Oh you were fucked up.

Not only does that dream scare you wide awake for an entire night, it also scares you from ever approaching his door again. Or when you see him down at the laundry room, or at the elevator, or—

At your door?

When you open to the persistently annoying knock, you don't expect it to be your neighbor. In his signature frat look, a backward cap hanging on his head. "Hey—"

"What do you want?" You cut him off.

"Oh, well, straight to the point, um—Was here to tell you that I'll be throwing a party in just a few hours. So it'll get loud. And I won't be able to turn it down. Sorry."

"Okay." you simply say before adding, "Thanks for giving me a heads up I guess." You attempt to give a smile before shutting your door but Yeonjun stops you with the intervention of his foot between the door and the frame.

"Also. Question.” You quirk a brow. “This is probably really weird to ask because we don't even know each other, but, are you avoiding me? I feel like you are. Was it because of my …crying?" He whispers the last part like its some sacred omen.

"Huh?"

"What happened at the elevator. Can’t you—can’t you just forget about that? I mean I have no idea if you’re avoiding me because of it, but I feel like you are and I don’t know, I just need a confirmation. It’s driving me fucking insane and, and as a man—”

God, you’d do anything to not be the victim of a macho man attempting to explain how weak it is to shed a few tears. So you reveal the reality that you are currently living in. A reality where you dreamed about fucking Choi Yeonjun, A.K.A someone you would consider a mortal enemy by this point.

“I had a sex dream.” It’s the first time you see him taken aback, blinking rapidly, clueless of what you just said. “About you.” you confirm, pursing your lips at the few seconds of silence that followed after. Presuming he has nothing to say to you look down at his foot that was the sole reason you hadn’t shut the door yet.

He scrambles, flustered when he realizes, moving his feet, an incredulous chuckle leaving his lips right after, “Um, yeah, sorry— a sex dream? About me? Huh. I always knew—” With dread, you slam the door shut before he could get another word in, the last thing you see being a smug grin on his face with the newly found information settling in and god you just want to rip your hair out— the absolute last thing you wanted to do was feed his ego. Which you had clearly served to have done.

You choose to huddle up on your couch, watching a random Netflix show to pass time on your vacation day but the show’s too uninteresting so you inevitably end up spacing out.

You’re not entirely sure why you’ve been particularly childish about the dream. Especially since you’ve had awkward sex dreams before, the one about your fuck-ass boss taking the number one spot for most traumatizing. But you’ve never actively ignored anyone or even gave it a second thought other than “Holy shit that was weird.”

So, your subconscious leads you to believe you resorted to avoidance due to the contents of your dream. Said contents being you… dominating a man. Roped up cocky Yeonjun at mercy of every feather touch, squirming in his restraints, face a teary mess with his hair plastered onto his forehead from all the sweat, a ballgag drenched with his spit just to keep him shut, salivating dumbly down under his chin, the prettiest fucked out look, putting the little shit in his place and holy shit are you touching yourself?

Like some prude, you retract your hand out from under your pants and curse yourself at seeing your fingers stick because of your substance—Yeonjun was driving you crazy. And you hated it, he was at most five years younger than you and throughout your life span, you have never felt anything for a younger man—its always been a turn off. Especially when it shows. And with Yeonjun, oh it showed.

Even now as your reverie gets broken by an unrythmic knock similar to before, leading you to be faced by Yeonjun. For the second time today.

His stance is a lot different than an hour ago, almost like that one time on the elevator. “…Hey?” You start out with raised eyebrows.

Confused by his silence you assume what this was about, “I seriously don’t mind the party, I’ll be—”

Your eyes widen in surprise when Yeonjun’s lips crash on yours, roughly taking you up a wind before the realizations sets in the moment his hand start going places it should not be going. You bite down on his lip and he pulls away instantly, groaning, wide eyed, tears already springing on his waterline from the pain. He has the audacity to look offended as he yells with childish shriek of his voice, “What the hell?!”

“Are you insane? Who gave you the right to kiss me you fucking pervert?” You yell back, still shocked at his sudden advancement, finger lingering on your lips.

He visibly deflates with a knit of his eyebrows, eyes wide, "Um? You...you just told me you had a sex dream...of me."

"So?" you whisper-shout exasperated.

"I thought—"

You cut him off. "You thought what? I'd let you barge in here like some lead in a porno and...fuck me?"

He seems to think for a few seconds before literally...nodding, making you nearly gasp. "Well, sort of...yeah? I mean, women don't tell you that they've had a wet dream about you without trying to say something non-verbally." He seems almost proud when he says that, as if he has hundreds of experience in women psych.

Holy fuck. You dreamed about fucking this kid. A dumb frat whose probably got everything handed to him just because he was moderately pretty.

But maybe he wasn't too far off, because you find yourself stupidly attracted to his slightly bruised lip from your bite earlier, his eyes still glossy, iris looking up waiting for you to say something. Holy shit.

"How old are you?" If the age gap was bigger than three years—

"Turned twenty-three last September. Why?"

Two years. Oh fuck, to hell with it all.

You ignore his question and jump straight in the cold, freezing water. "How...much are you willing to do to...fuck me?" The question came out a lot more awkward than you intended.

He huffs out a laugh incredulously waiting for you to say that was a joke, but too much time has passed and now he's seriously thinking it over for a second. "Um...a lot? I don't know. I'm just super horny right now."

If you were in your right mind, you would've rejected him. Out the door he would've been because the way he drawled super had to have been the biggest turn off. But you were also a woman at mercy to her sexual desires. And right now, your sexual desire was Yeonjun.

"Okay," you exhale. "Sure. Let's fuck. But we're doing this my way."

-----

You surprisingly don't possess any toys...other than an unused dildo. You're not sure if he'd be too into that, or if you know him enough to even propose such an idea. So... you’re left empty handed; now all you had was your word and control.

And the slight age difference seemed to help it out too. “I-I’m—holy shit— I’m gonna cum noona, noona—"

Abruptly, you move from his neck that you were just lightly sucking on, hand once palming him over his sweats, retracted. He whines from the loss of friction, opening his shut eyes to give you the nastiest look as he tries to quickly bring back his high but he clearly fails when he groans, nearly feeling his eyes get teary. "Why the fuck would you do that?"

"I told you to stop calling me noona. Plus, I'm not gonna let you soil your pants the minute I get my hands on you."

Wild runs in his eyes and its unlike you’ve seen him. "Holy shit, you're so—" But it’s not intimidating. You cut him off by straddling his lap, and if you weren’t nicer you would’ve laughed at how fast his expression changed. Dumb kid.

He was totally awestricken, wetting his lips for a second until opening them again, "—fucking hot."

You strike a sharp blow across his face, the slap silencing him abruptly. His lips are slightly parted, confusion ridden in his features, his cheek quickly turning a shade of red, ears ringing—then you start grinding and his expression once again morphs into something sinfully pathetic, except this time he had those tears threatening to spill. “Don’t call me hot again. Understood?”

“It’s a fucking complim—”

You shove two fingers in his mouth to attempt of actually shutting this man up, and for a bit it serves to gag him until a lewd thought popped in your head. “Suck. Or I kick you out and you can jerk off your stupid dick alone.”

He immediately obeys, sucking on your two fingers, his saliva coating them. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was shifting his position and not attempting to buck his hips like a dumb rabid dog. He was getting off from this.

You were proven more when you start pumping your digits in his mouth, too fascinated at how he sucks in his cheeks, making eye contact, whining on your fingers. “Why’re you so frustrating? Could’ve been a good boy from the beginning.”

You rolled your hips into his more, his dick hardening you’re surprised he hasn’t complained yet. “When are we gonna fuck?” He whines when your fingers are out of his watering mouth.

Clearly, you speak too soon.

“Never if you keep being a fucking bitch. You know how much sleep I lost because of your idiotic shenanigans? Let me have my fun.”

A lot. He was insufferable the first three months, dark circles getting more deep set. Feeling anger bubble up, you move to roughly trailing wet kisses down his neck and goodness is he audible—his soft moans are truly music to your ears. “You’re loud.”

And it gets you to needily grind down on his bulge even more, your core aching. Unfortunately, he takes this as you scolding him to be quiet, and so for a second, he’s extremely quiet. “No, no, want you to be loud. Love your needy voice, such a pretty dumb boy.” you breathe, getting off on his lap.

You suck hard on a sensitive spot and he spasms, whimpering. “Noona—”

You bite down on his exposed shoulder and Yeonjun cries. “Told you to stop calling me that freak.”

“Don’t care, I wanna call you noona,” you swallow the lump in your throat because the honorific does spur you on his lap, “My noona.”

Your eyes widen, flustered hands raising to slap him again, which he doesn’t dodge. Hot cheeks so red from the two times you hit his pretty face, tears long spilling down them, is so much better than the dream—except his bratty smirk pulls you out of the fantasy. “Stop pushing it dumb frat.”

His hips buck to hump up against your pussy and you really start to think he enjoys getting slapped. “P-please, want your pussy. Been thinking about it all week.”

“All week?”

“Y-yeah, since that guy fucked you dumb, like a bitch.” If it weren’t for how distracted you were getting by his twitching dick in between your thighs, you would’ve given him another strike against his face—and maybe then he would’ve shut up for good.

“You want to fuck me like a bitch?” you slur in his ear in mock tone, “You?”

He furrows his brows, visibly getting haughty. “Yes, me. What about it?” he bites.

You whine at the cute knit of his brows, the pout that rests his pretty lips. You lean to kiss them, you’ve been thinking of doing that since the beginning—they looked so pillowy, soft, everything you could now feel as he eagerly returns the chaste mouth to mouth.

It’s quick to turn messy, spit smothered by the side of his lips when you cup his cheeks—then you let go, abruptly. Yeonjun tries to blindly chase your lips, but you’re unrelenting, working yourself on his lap. “You can’t fuck me like him Jjunie.”

“I can fuck your brains out, you—” He’s mid barking back at your statement, his ego clearly beaten down to the ground, but you do the next thing you’ve been dying to try—playing with his nipples. You graze them with your thumb when you’ve had your hands under his shirt for a good minute—a fact unnoticed by the man under you—and that gets him mewling. Mewling.

“F-fuck, don’t touch me there..”

“But I thought you could fuck my brains out?” you mock with a pout, “How come you get like this just by…”

You pinch his nipples slightly and he throws his back on the couch almost immediately, whimpering through his tightly closed lips. “Me touching your tits?”

“Don’t c-call them that.”

“Tits? But you like this don’t you?” you ask softly, studying every bit of a jerk, or a slight quiver of his bottom lip. He loved every second of this, but you needed him to tell you. You stop massaging his nips, removing your hand entirely from under his shirt, which gets his eyes to fly open, holding your wrist. “I do! I do. I like it when you play with my tits.” he says exasperated, raising your hand under his shirt again.

What a desperate whore.

You smirk, incredibly engrossed by his eagerness, and his swollen glistening lips from your brief makeout earlier. “Yeah?” you drawl, pressing on his bud just a tiny bit, and he nods. Thank god he was sensitive.

“Mhm.” he hums, still pathetically chasing your warmth. All he can think with is his dick.

“Thought about wrecking my tight, little pussy so bad all week, huh? Jerked off to the thought all week? Poor baby. Then I have to make it up to you today don’t I?” you know those words would make him act up more, getting him unbearably hard to the point its torture. And god, now your panties were uncomfortably sticking to your pussy.

“N-noona let me—let me—” Yeonjun’s crying more as the friction between your bodies gets too overwhelming for him— and gosh, does he look like such a dumb boy; none of his cocky stupid shit from earlier.

It was hot.

“Want my pussy?”

His nods are frantic, so much that you snort. “Yes, yes please. Wanted to fuck you dumb ever since you came over. You never gave me any attention, jus’ wanted to make a mess of you, cumming all over your tits—”

No way. He was a pervert from the beginning? You thought he hated your guts just as much as you did him. “Did that filthy fantasy give you a good enough reason to ruin my sleep schedule and ..and all my chances at a promotion? Huh? Because of you i can’t even dream of it—“

You were lying. Losing sleep had definitely affected your work performance but it wasn’t to the point you couldn’t aim for a little promotion. But you liked seeing his guilt pool in, crying, crying sooo pathetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know noona, I swear.”

His hiccups are enough to get you to fasten your speed on his lap, the friction working to get you off.

“Yeah. Because your undeveloped brain can’t grasp at the real worlds consequence. I hate guys like you. So immature and dumb.”

That snaps something in him clearly as he finds the tongue to retort, “If you hated me you—you wouldn’t be getting off on my cock.”

You scoff, especially at picking up on the strained moan he tries to conceal, the shudder of his body giving away the orgasm. Choi Yeonjun just came. Untouched.

You could feel it between your legs, the warmth spread disgustingly all over and you grimace. “Gross.”

He groans out of embarrassment, hiding his face with an arm. And now you’re just sitting on his wet lap, contemplating two things. Kicking him out or getting to satisfy your needs?

Unfortunately, the banging on a door pauses your movement of unbuckling his jeans and you can’t hide the roll of your eyes. “Yeonjun! Are you home?!”

Convenient timing. Not.

You don’t let your disappointment show—he came and you hadn’t. You instead turn to face him, giving him a mocking smile, “You have a party to host ...oops.” And at least end it with the illusion you had the upper hand.

But Yeonjun is not as willing to give it up. “I don’t give a shit. I host these weekly,” Oh, you know. “…Can you at the least …let me eat you out?”

#############################

a/n; lol this got longer than i intended to the point i was thinking about naming it and getting it out as an actual fic but ehhhhh ill leave it raw 🥲 wish my shitty neighbor was yeonjun but we move 😁!!!!!

[briefalpacashark]

MILES 42 Spoils you

Warnings: None.

(Dont know who the artist it but props to them. Amazing stuff)

Miles loves to spoil me. He's got plenty of money, thanks to the buyer's market for fancy gadgets and Miles' insanely smart brain, and a few choice investments. Money was no longer a problem for him. He had paid off his mothers mortgage and the only reason why Rio still worked was because she respected her own independence. 

The gift giving started off slow. The appreciation I showed fuelled his desire to gift me anything and everything. 

I started catching onto his antics and shut it down.

“You like that one Mami?” I felt Mies place his hands on my hips from behind as he peeked over my head at the small stuffed animal on display in a window.

“No,” I flatly refused, going to step away only for him to hold on tighter pulling me back. Miles was stronger than me by a long shot. So my attempt to escape was easily foiled. I could see his smirk in the reflection as he moved to encase my body in his arms resting his chin on the top of my head.

“The green or the blue?” he asked.

“Neither,” I muttered.

“Come on Mami, Which one?” he asked, dropping his head to my shoulder.

“I was just looking at the cute cashier,” I stated without thinking.

“Who the old lady?” he asked with a smirk. Looking at the cashier, I grimace slightly.

“Come on Mi Amor,” he coaxed his lips, finding himself a sweet little spot on my neck.

“Nope,” I popped the p.

“Mi vida, Hermosa, Mi Alma, Mi Amada, Cariño, Mi Reina, Bebe,” with each pet name his gentle pecks got more intimate. Trailing down my neck and sending my cheeks a flame. Finding my sweet spot rather easily my eyes widened as he started to suck on it, fully intent on forming a hickey. Pushing the pleasant shiver it sent though my body I cleared my throat. 

“Fine!” I suddenly declared. He smirked giving the spot one last peck before straightening up.

“The blue,” I muttered trying to fix my hair pretending that the kisses had not affected me in the slightest. 

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

Staring at the blue teddy on our bed I huffed in defeat. 

Yet as I started to shut down his habit he found ways of literally forcing me to accept it. Whether it be teasing me to the point of acceptance or just flat out ignoring me as he bought the item. The honeymoon period of him actually listening to me diminished in less than a month. Hell I had even tried returning items, Miles caught on and started refusing the receipts when he purchased stuff. 

So I made it my mission to not go shopping with him anymore. I succeeded mostly yet sometimes he would still pop up. 

It was working to an extent. 

Until one day when we went to watch a live performance in the park with Jessica, my best friend and Shiro. I guess you could call him Miles' best friend. The performance was canceled last minute so Jessica decided that we should go shopping. I tried to refuse but Jessica was like Miles in a way. Wouldn't take no for an answer. So there we were walking through a clothing shop. Miles hung closer to me watching and waiting for any reaction I would have. Any slight hint that I liked something and his card was out. Luckily for me I had been practicing the art of deception. The whole time I kept a millstone smile on my face. Miles hated it.

“You're not fooling me with that smile,” he whispered into my ear. 

“Oh really? Well I wonder why your cards are nice and snug in that wallet that hasn't left your pocket,” I stated smugly, giving him a wink before turning back to Jessica that held a shirt to her chest asking for my opinion. 

“What's up with him?” Jessica asked, nodding to Miles who now wore a slight frown, more than usual.

“I won't let him buy me anything,” I muttered.

“I'm sorry. You're not letting him buy you stuff? Are you sick?” she asked, reaching for my forehead pretending to check my temperature.

“He gets me too much stuff,” I muttered with a small smile pushing her hand away as we walked to the other rack leaving a moody Miles behind. 

“And that's a problem, how?” she asked. “You have a sugar daddy and you're not using him,” she tisked going back to looking at things. I hated the feeling that settled in my gut at her words. I know she was just joking but it still hit me deep.

“Hey Mami, we're gonna go check out some things I'll be back,” Miles muttered, gently tapping the side of my hip as he stepped up behind me.

“Ok, meet you at the food court?” I suggested.

“In an hour?” he asked. I nodded and waved him off.

“Now that they're gone we can actually do some shopping,” Jessica said wagging her eyebrows. She dragged me straight towards Victoria's secret. I wasn't gonna lie, I had a good time. Trying things on. Looked at everything that caught my eye without the worry that Miles was gonna buy it. I even bought a nice jacket for Miles. Seeing him sitting down I walked up behind him reaching around to cover his eyes with one hand.

“Hands out,” I demanded with a smile. Miles put his phone down holding his hand out. Placing the bag in his hand I pulled my hand back wrapping my arms around his neck as he opened it. 

“What's this for?” he asked holding the jacket up. 

“What can't I spoil my man?” I asked, giving his cheek a quick peck before sitting down next to him. He chuckled lowly at my words absolutely loving how I called him ‘my man’

The next day I got back from work walking into our apartment.

“Miles, I’m home,” I called out rounding the kitchen and stopping upon seeing a pile of bags on the dinner table. 

“Hey mami,” he called from the couch, keeping his eyes on the television.

“Miles,” I sighed, already knowing what was in those bags. 

“I really don't see what the big deal is,” he shrugged, already knowing what my sigh was for.

“Miles,” my tone was more serious now, it snapped slightly and my anger appeared. Miles' head tilted to the side slightly at it. I rarely held this tone. But I had had enough. It was getting out of hand. Miles and I rearly fought. And our fights were mostly me ranting and Miles using a calm tone as he listened. 

“What's that tone for?” he asked. 

“You know what it's for,” I snapped, chucking my bag on the table looking over it all. Hearing the TV shut off I refused to turn around as he approached me.

“Mami,” he whispered.

“Don't Miles, I'm mad at you right now,” I shook my head walking away from him.

“Babe, come on,” he sighed.

“No Miles, you just don't listen, do you know how frustrating that is?” I ranted ripping my scarf off.

“It's not like you listen to me all the time,” he shrugged, leaning against the door frame of our room. My head snapped to him in a glare that had him sighing again.

“What's got you so wound up. Huh?” he asked softly. That stupid soft understanding tone. That one that held no anger. That's why I hated arguing with him. He never got angry. Never. Frustrated maybe.

“Jessica called you my sugar daddy,” I whispered under my breath, kicking off my shoes.

“Sugar Daddy. Well I like the sound of that,” he mused with a small smirk.

“Miles,” I huffed.

“Aight aight. Lo siento,” he held his hands up in defense.

“So am I gonna have to pry what's bothering you out of ya or?” he trailed off.

“I don't want you to think I'm with you just because of your money. I don't like it, it's so fucken stupid and it makes me feel sick,” I continued to rant moving about the room.

“Mami, hey hey, come er,” he walked forward gently grabbing me, pulling me out of my pacing. His hands rubbed up and down my upper arms as he whispered to me in spanish trying to calm me down.

“Why would you ever think that?” he asked with a frown.

“It's not just me. Other people say it,” I muttered.

“Did those other people know that you were with me when I had a whole total of two dollars to my name. Where my idea of an expensive date was a trip down to the seven eleven and a push bike ride to the lookout?” he asked reminiscing on when we had first gotten together. 

“Well no,” I muttered.

“And do they know that you work an honest job and against my wishes pay for your own things. That you pay for what you think is half the rent when really I already bought the apartment and put that money into a savings account that I would have told you about when we had our first kid so you wouldn't stress about buying stuff for em?” my eyes widened slightly at Miles casually mention of not only lying to me about the rent but the talk of a kid. I should be really angry at him for lying to me. But all that was running through my head was a kid. 

“You want kids?” I asked softly. We had never talked about kids before.

“Who wouldn't want a little you runnin round?” he asked with a small smirk. My chest flushed with warmth at the sincerity in his eyes. 

“Why don't you?” he asked.

“Of course I wan- No wait. I'm getting distracted. You've been lying to me! MIlES!” I snapped.

“Mi amor you're angry, How about  we calm down,” He suggested his arms moving to encompass me.

“No, I will not calm down,” I huffed trying to get out of his hold.

“Ok,” he shrugged before tipping us back, myself hitting the bed and him flopping down atop me.

“Miles!” I yelled trying to wiggled out from under him.

“Hum?” he hummed, not moving an inch. 

“God you can be so frustrating,” I huffed, giving up on my struggle. 

“I'll get up when you calm down,” he muttered simply. I gave one last shake before huffing again. 

“You know I read somewhere that adults who can't accept people buying nice stuff for them is because when they were a kid their parents would say stuff was too expensive. Messed with the kids mind and made them think they aren't worthy of being gifted stuff,” Miles mumbled. Hearing that my mind instantly snapped back to when I was young. Money was tight growing up. My parents tried their best to shield it from me but I was smart enough. Seeing my parents so worried about paying rent, I guess it could have left a mark.

“Stop trying to be smart,” I huffed. Miles was smart. Crazy smart. As in genius einstein smart. 

“You deserve the world Mami. And I'm the one that's gonna give it to ya,” he whispered softly.

“I don't need the word Miles. I only need you,” I whispered my arms moving around to hug him, my hand gripping the back of his shirt. Rolling us onto our sides he shifted me up so we were looking at each other. 

“Who else am I gonna spend my money on huh? I send a bunch to charities. I look after my mum as much as she will let me. At least you let me buy you stuff,” he muttered.

“Let you?” I propped an eyebrow.

“Yes Mi Vida. You let me, even though you try not to,” he grinned. I sighed, shaking my head reaching up to grab his face.

“I love you Miles. I love YOU, Not your money. Not this apartment. I would love you if you had not one penny to your name. You know that right?” I asked. I wanted him to know it. I needed him to know. For a long time he simply stared at me. In his mind he wondered what he had done to deserve the love of such an amazing woman. He knew I didn't care whether or not he had money. But the main reason why he did what he did, why he sold his tech was to make a life free of such worries.

“I know,” he whispered, his own hand reaching up to cup my face. “ So let me spoil you. The whole reason I did it all was to make a life free of the worry of money. To make a good life for us,” he whispered honestly. I pressed my lips together. He had a point.

“Fine. but only once a month,” I huffed.

“Once a month?” he asked, pretending to be appalled.

“Fine once a week,” I muttered. He grinned, pulling me into a sweet kiss. I smiled, trailing my finger down his chin as he pulled back.

“Say, you busy this evening?” he asked.

“Why?” I asked.

So there I sat. On the handlebars of Miles' old push bike. In one hand I held a slushy. I wore the biggest smile on my face as we rode through the town, my hair gently billowing in the wind. Looking back I caught a glimpse of one of Miles' genius true smiles. A smile so wide and toothy that it showed his dimples. 

“You wanna know something?” I asked, turning back to the front. He hummed, signaling for me to continue.

“This has got to be the best date yet,” I said. 

“I guess it's alright,” he mused.

[sunnys-out]

What Rivalry? | Leah Williamson and Alessia Russo x Reader

A/N: Sorry this is a wee later than I thought, but I played soccer all day Saturday for charity and took Sunday to recover. Also, I'm a bit sad because the English defender I was talking to went back to England to renew her visa and I miss her lol so please enjoy this would make my day.

Based on this request

Warnings: Alcohol, implied smut, MDNI

Word Count: 2087

I had a thing for Arsenal players…Something about not only beating Arsenal in a game but then bedding one of the star English players as a Chelsea player, was something I loved. 

I was a Blue through and through, pops and my older brother played for the Chelsea men and my mum was one of the physical therapists at Chelsea. Being a Blue did not stop me from eyeing Miss Leah Williamson after each and every game we had against Arsenal.

“There she goes again, money on Leah rejecting her this time.” Kerr would elbow Millie as she saw me saunter over and see me place an arm around an already smiling Leah. 

Millie only blew out a breath, “yeah Sammy you already lost before ya even started, look at her…(y/n) got her wrapped around her finger”.

Sam only looked on and saw that my arm had now traveled to hold Leah’s waist as I stood whispering softly in her ear, earning a giggle from the normally stern faced captain.

“Ohhh yeah she’s a goner” Sam said with a laugh as both started back towards the tunnel. 

______________________________________________________________

Leah and I had an arrangement, obviously, and well the first time that I was able to have a taste of Miss Leah Williamson it was after a particularly hard game for Arsenal…made her keep the game jersey on for our first night together. 

Leah Williamson tastes like a good bourbon out with friends, a warm cinnamon candy during the fall, like a sunset, like the colors of autumn…She was addicting and tasted like the colors of the jersey she wore all bunched up above her chest as I took my time with her every single derby game. 

She never stayed, always leaving once I had finished and never returned the favor. Leah wanted some time to just let go of control and I was the one to allow that for her…that was months ago, see it was just an arrangement…that’s all it ever was going to be. It was always going to be something physical and nothing more…the way that I had intended but I found myself falling for Leah…ironically…shortly after I had shut her down when she had confessed to me. 

I remember when I tried to rectify whatever we had after I fucked it up when I had pulled her aside after a USWNT vs. England match.

______________________________________________________________

“Didn’t realize this was an Arsenal/Chelsea match? And bold of you to want to do something in the hallway…didn’t take that as your thing” Leah whispered the last part as she pulled me closer.

I put my hands on hers gently removing them from my jersey.

“No, Leah, I actually wanted to see if you were willing to go get a drink with me and you know actually talk?” Leah’s smile immediately drops at the realization and she takes a step back.

Her raised hand immediately stops me before I could continue,  “You don’t get to do this. I was heartbroken when you shut me down and I was like, "Fine, something physical as long as I can get to keep her around in some way”

She pauses to collect her thoughts and uses her next breath as her eyes grow stern, “But you can’t just shut me down and then realize you felt the same way. I don’t even think you actually have feelings for me…what about me do you like?” 

I shuffle my feet, the sound of my cleats on the hard floors of the hallway. 

“I still remember the first time…I still remember how you tast-” the English captain rolled her eyes and got close.

“You're really going to use what you said to me when you shut me down…it worked when you wanted to keep it physical..you being all poetic about the sex…but to use it when you actually want to prove that you want a relationship with me?” the space between us grew as I frowned.

The words now escaping me and a small, “You’re right, we shouldn’t keep doing this” escaped my mouth…Leah lifted my chin gently with her hand.

“Hey we both wanted it like this initially…so I can’t be mad at you…but you need someone who will want to stay with you even after the fact, take care of you, I don’t know…make you breakfast in bed or whatever… but that can’t be me…I’m sorry”. And with that Leah left the narrative…leaving me to not only sit with the 2-0 loss against England but also losing her completely

______________________________________________________________

Months and Months would pass and continue on…just like Leah did. She found herself with Jordan and well I was happy for her. There was a bit of bitterness in my mouth because I hadn’t found anyone who wanted to stick around in the morning.

Jessie Fleming, being my closest friend on the team, would always be there for my frustrated rants and she’d constantly reassure that there was definitely someone out there that “would put up with me and more”.

Jess’ way of getting me out of a funk was to prevent me from immediately going home after a Derby game. Of course, she would elicit the help of Sammy and Millie in convincing me that a drink with the Arsenal girls would not be such a bad idea.

“Come on, (y/n), ya can’t stay cooped up in your apartment all the time” Millie grabs me by the elbow after I had tried to return to my room.

I huffed as I sat on my couch crossing my arms, “I look ridiculous”.

“I think you look hot, come on, there were some new Arsenal signings so ya got options.” Sam winked as she finished up her pre-game drink.

I roll my eyes “weren’t y’all the ones giving me shit about getting with an Arsenal girl?” my hands going up and shaking “No, (y/n) come on keep the sanctity of the rivalry!” I mocked what had previously been said.

It was their turn to roll their eyes, “What rivalry? All I see is that you need to find someone” Jessie smacks my shoulder.

“Now come on, and don’t worry Leah won’t be there since her whole ACL thing” Millie says now picking me up from the couch  and pushing me out of the door.

______________________________________________________________

Alessia’s POV:

The bar was lively and we all had our own little booth away from the public so that we could all enjoy our time together. This was my first outing with the Arsenal girls since joining the team.

Lotte and Steph had reassured me that it was just a fun time with the girls and that the Chelsea girls didn’t bite. 

“So, who’s coming?” I yelled to McCabe as she downed the last of her first beer of the night.

She looked at me with a cocked eyebrow, “Why? Hoping for someone in particular, Russo?”

“No, just curious” I say while taking a sip of the beer in front of me. Thankfully, the darkness of the bar hid the obvious blush now creeping on my cheeks. I was waiting for someone in particular, (y/n) (l/n)...I’ve had a crush on her even when I was at Manchester United. 

I tried to swap jerseys with her and maybe swapped numbers but she was pretty to herself after games.

Katie seemed to read my thoughts, as a smirk played on her lips.

“Oh I know who…that girl is a tough one and that’s coming from me but she’s a sweet gal” 

Caitlin looked to the entrance of the bar and with a laugh “speaking of sweet gals, look at the who finally arrived. The Blues late as usual”

I look over and see Sam, Millie, Jessie and trailing behind them (y/n). 

“Sorry! Sorry, we had to drag this one out of her apartment” Sam said pushing (y/n) to the front. I, immediately, hid my face in my beer ignoring the dig from McCabe’s elbow into my side. 

I glance up and catch (y/n)’s eye. She had a curious look in her eye that then shifted to annoyance as Sam pushed her in my direction as she sat down next to me. 

(y/n) took her time to say hi to the rest of the girls and I suddenly felt McCabe’s elbow again. 

I realized that (y/n) was looking at me, “Oh sorry was a bit in my own world there”

She laughs a little and shakes her head, “No worries, I don’t mind it…I’m (y/n),  congrats on signing to Arsenal, you played well in your debut by the way, Alessia” 

The way my name sounded in her mouth made me melt into a puddle right then and there and I only snapped out of it once she got closer so as to not yell is what I told myself.

“I’m going to go get something stronger, want to come with or are you going to be nursing that beer the rest of the night?” she said just enough for me to hear.

I honestly think she felt the heat from the blush on my cheeks because a smile appeared on her lips before I even said “yes”.

______________________________________________________________

Alessia followed me and we both remained at the bar and had just a cocktail before she pulled me to the dance floor. 

“Come on it’ll be fun” she said, pulling me towards her as we had a space to ourselves.

I looked at her slightly amused as she hadn’t realized that her hands had found their place at my waist.

“Bold, Russo…you trying to pull me?” I say not trying to break eye contact.

Must have been the alcohol in her system because a laugh escaped her.

“Well yeah hoping to pull the cute girl in front of me?” 

I return the laugh and lean into her, “well I'm not going to stop anything that you may be planning, Russo” 

Alessia, empowered, grabbed me by the chin and kissed me deeply totally forgetting that our respective teammates were watching from the booth across the bar.

Millie patted Sam’s shoulder, “guess, who won the bet Sammy, you owe me dinner” which earned an exaggerated roll of Sam’s eyes as she also slid a bill towards Millie. 

______________________________________________________________

Alessia and I both found ourselves at my apartment later that night, clothes strewn about, both of our phones lighting up with notifications but us ignoring everything and focusing only on the other. 

The taste of Alessia, I knew I would become addicted to, but I didn’t hold my breath because the other side of my bed would be empty come morning…like always. 

I savored the moment and the sounds that she made as she came undone. Like a nice coconut rum, the sunrise in a forest, like a honey candy and as intense as the sun. Leah was right, I’m too poetic for my own good.

The light from my curtains hit my eyes as I lifted myself up…surprising myself when I felt a weight holding down the rest of my sheets. 

There lay Alessia, sleeping soundly, with the sun hitting her hair in a way that created a light shine around her features. A small scrunch on her nose as she felt the movement from me and a light flutter of lashes allowed for her gentle blue eyes to greet me.

“Morning’” she whispered with a slight giggle.

I only nod, not knowing what to say.

“Sorry, I knocked out right after…I did want to return the favor you know” she said shifting closer to me.

I shake my head “nah, it’s ok…” Alessia stops me as she now finds herself on top of me, now filled with an energy in her eyes even though she had just woken up moments ago.

“No, I want to and then I can make you breakfast too…” She said gently lowering herself, taking my lips slowly as she did as she promised. 

______________________________________________________________

Alessia stayed more than that morning, she made an effort to visit me and make me laugh many times after that night. At our first derby game together, she prompted a swapping of jerseys where with her jersey was a crumpled piece of paper neatly written.

“What rivalry? Just want to be able to take you on a proper date. :) Text me when you get home xxx-xxx-xxxx”

Jessie was right, I did find someone, who would put up with me and more and I'm glad it’s Alessia.

[scoutswritingcorner]

i got two things; would u ever add more characters to the helluva boss list??

second thing was my request lol :3

can i get a blitzø x gn!sinner!reader headcanons where reader is so down on their luck that they are applying to randoms jobs and the only one that got back to them was I.M.P lol and the slow progression of their relationship to becoming lovers :D

Pure Luck Or Dumb Luck?

Blitzø x GN!Reader

TW: FLUFF- A mention of a little nsfw but nothing explicit

A/n: Blitz! Our favorite Boss! And to answer your question, yes I will! I’m just writing out for the gang first so I can get used to writing for the characters before I move onto other characters!

Let me set the scene:

You recently had been fired from your last job for punching a customer who had been harassing you lately. It was well deserved but it had landed you in the unemployment category of working. So you applied to every single work ad you could get your hands on. They all rejected you except for one that had been the infamous, I.M.P! Maybe not so infamous..but they do amazing jobs, you’ve heard and you got an interview to go to THE NEXT DAY?!?!?

-🐴 Well fast forward- you do land the interview but depending if you know how to kill or shoot a gun depends if you need training. By training I mean going out in the human world and killing to get you over your nerves. Blitz is strict but fair with this. If you want to be out on the field, you have to kill. If not he can let you be the receptionist with Loona or the janitor! They need one badly- dried blood is hard to get out of the wooden floors and carpets.

-🐴Now! If you do need training, he’s gonna send Millie and Moxxie with you, the sweetest people to help and can validate your feelings on taking a life. Moxxie understands the hesitation.

-🐴 Blitz isn’t stupid (he can be but shh), he knows a good killer when he sees one (and a hottie). Now he won’t hold your hand during missions especially if you can handle yourself but if you still got some jitters in you about killing? He’ll give you an easy target to kill.

-🐴After a few months into the job? He starts to become friendlier with you, like instead of sending you out to get coffee? He asks if you want coffee and then asks if you can go get it cause he’s out of money. He’ll pay you back! (I mean at least he’s asking instead of yelling at you to go get it)

-🐴I swear he does become nicer over time but it takes so long cause he has trust issues. 

-🐴 But once you do become his friend or best friend as he puts it, oh boy he’s clinging to you and not letting go. You get so many privileges that no one else does and it's a blessing but a curse. Cause you get to know what he’s thinking all the time and then he tells you all of his horses names.

-🐴You start catching feelings for him and realize it at midnight when your alone in your bed. Your feelings go from “oh fuck-” to “I’d bang him” IN SECONDS- The whiplash is real.

-🐴Blitzo? Falls harder and he only realizes it when you bring him to a horse show and he’s watching you instead of the horses. But what really solidifies it for him? Is when you're able to talk your way into allowing Blitzo to ride and take pictures with the horses. 

-🐴 He won’t shut up about you when your not in the office, like you’d leave to go pick up lunch for everyone and as soon as you walk out the door. “Have you noticed how hot they are?” “Sir-”

-🐴Millie ships it so fucking hard. But because he doesn’t want to admit it and you probably think he won’t reciprocate your feelings, it’s a whole dance for a LONG time. Moxxie is about to rip his fucking hair out- while initially he didn’t care for it much- he’s as much as invested as his wife is. JUST FUCKING KISS PLEASE- 

-🐴 Loona is in on it too but she has a betting pool going with Millie. She’s either gonna be fifty bucks richer or out of fifty bucks. 

-🐴Either way it will be a long ass time before you end up pulling him into a kiss one night. Maybe you both were at your place watching a movie or you were out on the town with him and he’s walking you back to your apartment. 

-🐴 It ends up with you waking up in the morning curled up in your bed with your head on his bare chest. You abruptly wake him up by shaking him awake and staring at him cause you just slept with your best friend who is also your boss??

-🐴 this ends up with a huge talk and you both realize your feelings are mutual and POOF you’re dating.

-🐴This silly little Imp loves kisses and going on fun but not expensive dates! That doesn’t mean he won’t spoil the shit out of you cause he will! But he likes it when you are both relaxed and having fun.

-🐴Now he tries to keep your relationship out of work (despite working together) but he swoons or cheers you on if you get a kill or you are just being protective. His tail curls into a little heart.

-🐴 Wear his clothes if you can- especially his leather jacket it makes him puff his chest out in pride. He will wear your clothes, especially your shirts when he goes to bed or if you have a break!

-🐴Oh boy! He’s a jealous little imp! Not because he doesn’t trust you, it's because he doesn't think highly of himself and will often try to push you away. Don’t let that scare you, just hug him close.

[seiya-starsniper]

Six Degrees of Separation

Rating: Teen || Chapters: 1/4 || Word Count 1.4k

Summary:

The Dead Boy Detectives run into a familiar pub while out on a case, and Crystal has to contend with an unfortunate event from her past.

Hob Gadling wasn't planning on adopting three teenagers and a full grown woman, but stranger things have happened in his long centuries of life.

Read here on Tumblr, or over on AO3

dedicated to @softest-punk for making me emotional about Hob adopting the kids in DBD 💖

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

“In here!” Edwin shouts, gesturing frantically at the entrance to a pub that looks vaguely familiar to Crystal. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have much time to wonder before the banshee chasing them lets out a blood curdling scream. Crystal rushes in with Charles right behind her, pushing the door and slamming it shut behind her. Thankfully the pub seems to be completely empty except for one man. 

A man who looked extremely pissed off to see them.

“Oh bloody hell, fuck no, not you, out!” the older man shouts, moving out from behind the bar and looking ready to chase them out by force if necessary. Crystal braces herself, glancing around frantically for some sort of back door that she can bolt to if necessary. She’s pretty sure she can outrun him.

Charles and Edwin however, are a different story.

“Hob, it’s us!” Charles exclaims, throwing up his hands in an attempt to show no harm.

“We’re sorry for bringing a ghost to your door, Mr Gadling,” Edwin adds. “If you’ll just let me borrow one of your books to get rid of this banshee, we’ll be out of your hair.” 

“Not you two, her,” the man, Hob (what the hell kind of name was that?) growls, pointing at Crystal accusingly. Edwin and Charles turn to her in shock, and Crystal is about to protest that she has no idea what this man is on about, but then the memory of how she knows Hob Gadling comes flooding back to her.

The pub they’d run into was The New Inn and Crystal had almost burned it down last year because some girl she hated at school had come here for her 18th birthday. With all of Crystal’s friends, sans Crystal. Ex-friends now, since Crystal had tried to burn the place down with the whole party still inside. Hob had, unsurprisingly, pressed charges, and it took a lot of money from her parents to make everything go away.

“I’m sorry!” Crystal yells, just as the banshee screeches and slams its body against the door behind them. It lights up an iridescent blue, a warding against ghosts. Of course Crystal had to go and fuck up the one supernatural relationship she had because she was an idiot asshole last year. 

“I know this isn’t a great time, but I’m kind of a different person now?” Crystal says, having no idea how to even begin to explain the weird circumstances of the last month. “I swear what my past self did isn't who I am now,” she adds, also raising her hands to show she means no harm. 

“She’s part of the Dead Boy Detectives Agency, mate,” Charles interjects, while Edwin nods furiously in agreement. “Please don’t throw her out!”

The banshee lets out another screech and slams itself against the door, rattling the frame so hard that Crystal’s afraid it might fly off the hinges at any moment. Whatever ward Hob had placed, it wasn’t going to hold out for that much longer.

“What the hell is going on?!” a familiar voice cries out, and then Jenny Green of all people is coming out of what Crystal assumes is the kitchen. She’s also brandishing a butcher knife, because why would any of that change now that she lives across the pond?

“Jenny?!” Charles and Edwin yell.

“Oh fuck,” the older woman curses, glancing back and forth between the three of them and Hob. Crystal really hopes they haven’t just gotten Jenny fired. Finding a job had been tough enough for her when they'd relocated, and she had refused any help financially from Crystal.

“You know them?!” Hob asks, shock clear in his voice.

“It’s a long story,” Jenny grumbles, then screams when the banshee throws itself against the door again. “What the fuck, why did you lead a ghost here? ”

The door rattles and creaks, and the ward around the pub shimmers and vibrates angrily, which seems to finally prompt Hob to action. He straightens his back, rubs a hand over his face, and then takes one, two, three deep breaths before he looks them all over appraisingly. 

“Jenny, get the salt from the back,” Hob orders, gesturing her back to the kitchen. “The iron knives should be on the shelf next to them. Edwin, you know where the tomes are,” he adds pointing upwards, likely towards a room on the second floor of the pub. Jenny and Edwin nod quietly before disappearing to their designated posts, leaving Crystal and Charles alone with Hob.

“Right, so since when have the Dead Boys gotten themselves involved with trust fund brats?” Hob asks, still eyeing Crystal warily as if he expects her to pull out a lighter at any moment. 

“Since this trust fund brat got possessed by a demon and got her memories stolen,” Crystal answers, wincing when she realizes how harsh that sounds. “Sorry. I just recently got them back and it's been a weird time. I really am sorry though. For like, nearly burning this place to the ground cause I was mad.”

“You did what? ” Charles cries out, his mouth agape. “Please tell me that was all David’s doing.”

Crystal scrunches up her face and then shakes her head. “I wish it was, but no. Just plain old shitty Crystal,” she answers truthfully.

Hob looks between the two of them, then sighs, his expression softening. 

“Look, clearly you’ve done some soul searching and I am the last person who should be allowed to hold a grudge against someone who’s done some bad things,” he says, then gestures to Charles. “If the boys vouch for you, then I’m willing to bury the hatchet. All right, Ms Von-Hovercraft?”

“Please just call me Crystal,” Crystal pleads. She really hated being referred to by her surname. It still felt weird and foreign to her, after everything she had gone through. Hob huffs, and this time when he looks at her, there isn’t a shred of contempt in his expression.

“Yeah okay. Crystal,” he says warmly. “You can call me Hob.”

Crystal wants to ask where the hell the name Hob comes from, because she’s pretty sure she remembers his name being Richard , but before she can say anything, Edwin and Jenny come back and Hob turns his full attention to taking care of the banshee that’s trying to get past the wards he has around the entire pub. 

“You’re lucky Tuesday’s a slow night,” Hob says, before he starts flipping through the tome. “Jenny, Crystal, make a salt circle by the tables over there,” he adds, pointing to his left. “You’re going to need to lead her there so we can trap her.”

Crystal and Jenny make as large of a circle as they can, pouring generous amounts of salt into the floor. When they’re done, Hob instructs them to the front of the pub, where the door is still rattling and glowing angrily. Edwin and Charles are standing next to Hob, Charles with his cricket bat out, and Edwin and Hob ready to chant the spell within the tome. 

“When I count to three, open the door and run like hell into the salt circle,” Hob tells them. “One, two, THREE!”

Crystal throws open the door and both she and Jenny cover their ears as they run towards the salt circle. The banshee’s cries are even louder now that she’s inside the pub, but their plan works. She follows them straight into the circle, then screeches again in anger once she realizes she cannot follow them out. Her long hands try to grab for Jenny’s apron, but Charles materializes right at the circle’s edge to bat her hand away. 

Hob and Edwin start chanting some spell in what Crystal assumes is Latin, and the banshee screeches at an even louder volume than before. The salt circle alights a bright gold, and Crystal and Jenny are practically thrown backwards by the force of the magic taking effect.

The banshee lets out one more high pitched scream, and then her dark grey dress suddenly becomes stark white, dark and wet black hair paling slowly to a soft light brown. When the banshee lifts her face, her eyes are no longer sunken and black, but wide and bright green. 

She’s beautiful, now that she’s no longer in pain.

The Night Nurse shows up shortly afterwards, collecting the woman and gently reassuring her that she’s going to a better place. She looks at Hob like she’s offended by his very existence, which the man takes in stride and cheerfully waves her off, telling her to say hello to her boss for him. 

“Right then,” Hob says after the banshee and the Night Nurse have left. “Now that that’s taken care of, care to explain to me what the bloody hell is the connection with you lot?”

[sourholland]

based off of taylor swift’s song style

a/n → well i bet some people didn’t expect this story to be updated again, however here i am and here it is. this is chapter 4. what mostly inspired me to try and finish this series is the continuous love i have received through it. there were a lot of people who told me how much they enjoy it and who am i to deny them. however i know that it’s been a year since i’ve updated this so if you want off of the taglist because of disinterest, please let me know!!! same goes for wanting to be on the taglist, just lmk 🩵

summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

warnings → strong language, nsfw content

word count → 3.4k

reblog and leave some comments if you enjoy!!!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 4

“He’s fucking obsessed with you,” Sydney reasoned with you, listening to you finally debrief everything that had gone on between you and Joe over the last few weeks. “If you seriously start with all of this self-sabotage bullshit, I’m gonna kill you.”

Lena sat criss cross on the floor, silent and turning over the information you had given her carefully. Sydney was sitting on the couch beside you, knees pulled up to her chest as she spooned more ice cream into her mouth. It had been days since you slept over at Joe’s and besides a few text conversations and fleeting glances at the stadium, nothing more had happened between the two of you.

“She’s right,” Lena finally chimed in, her mass of curls held up in a claw clip she’d stolen from you during freshman year. “He’s obsessed.”

With a roll of your eyes, you turned over dramatically and buried your face into the throw pillow on your couch and screamed into it. If he was so obsessed, why hadn’t he called? Maybe because you completely overreacted after seeing one text on his phone like a psycho bitch, you thought to yourself begrudgingly. He probably thought you were crazy and territorial over guys you weren’t even with.

“I think I ruined it when I left the bar,” you sighed, considering screaming into the pillow again like a child.

“Oh my god, shut up. Men are so simple and literally do not care about stuff like that, I’m telling you. If he told you he let it go, he let it go. There’s no reason to overthink it,” Sydney assured you with a half-full mouth of chocolate ice cream. “Do you remember when I was fucking with Josh sophomore year and found out he was still hooking up with that one girl on the lacrosse team? Lily or whatever the fuck her name was–whatever, not the point–but do you remember when I deadass asked the front desk of our dorm building for a pair of scissors and walked a mile to where his car was parked and slashed three of his tires. Yeah, well he still hits me up. Men do not give a fuck.”

Lena had begun clutching her stomach in fits of laughter, rolling onto her back and shaking her head with tears prickling the corners of her eyes. You clapped a hand over your mouth, kicking Sydney and recalling how feral the three of you had been during your freshman and sophomore year. Moments like these made you wish the three of you were already living together again, as you had the prior three years. Well, Sydney shared a suite with you and Lena sophomore year and the three of you got an apartment junior year. After you told your parents that you planned to stay in Cincinnati after graduation, they knew you would need a place and gave you your graduation present early–a down payment on an apartment and your first month's rent. 

Cheering with the Bengals and substitute teaching on the side allowed you to save a little, but most of your money went towards bills. Lena and Sydney were planning to move in and split the cost three ways as soon as your prior lease was up. They had agreed to take on your portion of rent when you moved out of your previous apartment two months ago, knowing they wouldn’t have to put any money away for the down payment when they did move in with you. They still had about three weeks left until the lease was up, but you had all spent weeks packing up the other apartment slowly but surely. There were enough rooms for each of you to get your own, one was just significantly smaller than the other two. Lena had volunteered to take the space immediately, claiming she didn’t mind the lack of closet space or squeaky door.

Lena never had it in her to mind anything like that, she always just brushed it off and said it didn’t bother her one bit. She told you she was just excited to live with her two sisters, making you cry on the spot and tell her how much you appreciated her. Sydney would have taken the small room, she just wouldn’t have been happy about it and somehow both you and Lena knew she would find closet space one way or another. 

“I can’t wait for Joe Burrow to be sitting in my kitchen,” said Lena, letting Sydney spoon ice cream into her mouth now. “Or what about when you guys are fucking–”

“Lena!” You took the pillow you had been yelling into and pressed it into your flaming cheeks.

“Okay wait, answer honestly and don’t be modest. How big?” she swallowed, clasping her hands together in front of her, ready to inch them apart. “Tell me when to stop.”

“You’re both insufferable!” 

Lena, however, only continued to move her hands apart from each other with wide eyes when you still hadn’t said to stop. She hit the solid length, you nearly wheezed the word out with tears freely streaming down your face as all three of you clutched your abdomens in hysterics and girlish giggles.

“Do you need a third or what?” Sydney joked, already having pulled Joe’s Instagram up to stalk for the millionth time.

“Obviously,” you gave her a playful once over and winked, sending the three of you into fits of laughter again. 

⋆------------⋆

Practices leading up to the next preseason game against the Giants were brutal. Coaches were through with putting up with excuses and mistakes, leaving most of you on the team crying by the end of the night. When they wanted you to suffer, you suffered. Some of the senior girls who had been cheering with the team for a few years tried their best to ease the anxieties of the less-veteraned girls.

Everything hurt, all the time. Your back and legs mostly, but the soreness in your thighs and glutes made even warmups painful.

“Y/N!” Coach Traci’s voice bellowed. “What are you doing with your arms? How many times have I told you that if you can’t get this, I’m moving you back for our sideline dance sequences so you’re less visible?”

“Multiple times,” your voice came out as a little more than an embarrassed squeak. “I’m sorry, Coach.”

“Don’t be sorry, be better.”

You had to get your mind straight, shaking off the criticism and putting everything into the next time you ran the dance. Coach Traci nodded at you, the only acknowledgement of improvement that you would get for tonight. After the shitshow that was the Cardinals game, you knew better than to balk or disrespect anyone during practices. Everyone was strung out and tired, it was during a water break when you realized Joe was perched in his usual spot, headphones around his neck and running through some easy sprints. 

Good fucking god, had he heard your scolding? The thought brought you back to high school, the feeling of getting a question blatantly wrong in front of your crush or being reprimanded in front of the class for talking too loudly during a lesson. That same flutter of uneasiness left you feeling uncomfortable within your own skin, distracted again but pushing the thoughts aside in order not to repeat the whole embarrassing ordeal.

Joe was doing his absolute best job of casually sitting in on as many cheer practices as possible. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for either of you, but he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t using the fact that he is who he is to do his workouts wherever he wanted around the facility without a second glance from anyone. There were very few people meandering around, telling Joe what to do. With his injury, he was just now getting back into light conditioning and drill work so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to remain at the stadium to workout after practice had ended. He was watching from the sidelines most practices, occasionally being able to do a few workouts and passing the football around while everyone ran plays. 

He would take advantage of the opportunity to watch you while it was the most inconspicuous.

Practice unsurprisingly went late. Joe had disappeared back inside at some point, to finally go home you assumed. Once you were heaving and your body felt like pure jelly, you were finally allowed to go and grab your things and head in to shower. There were two text messages from Joe, delivered fifteen minutes prior.

Joe: Text me when you’re done

Joe: Actually do you wanna do what you gotta do and meet me in our locker room??

This boy is genuinely idiotic if he thinks you’re just waltzing into the team locker room, facility still far from emptied out. You ignored the messages until you got into your own locker room, sitting on a bench and shaking your head at his idea once again. Joe had absolutely nothing to lose here, that much was obvious from the start. You were a completely different story, though.

Y/N: Joe omg

Y/N: There are cameras everywhereeeeeeeee

Y/N: Can you just call me later?

Joe: No

Joe: Just go around the long way, don’t take the hall Emily’s office is on and come around from the other side. 

When you didn’t respond right away, he texted again.

Joe: The security camera isn’t facing the door, it’s facing who comes down that main hallway

Joe: I swear no one is gonna see you, the cameras will literally only get you taking a different hallway to walk out of the building and we can leave out of different doors

Y/N: You’re actually insane

Y/N: How do you even know what ways the camera faces???

Joe: I just walked out of the locker room and looked

Joe: I basically walked the whole thing, everyone went home 

Joe: Obviously not your team but yk what I mean, your coaches office is on the complete other side of the building 

Y/N: Go home, Joe :)

Joe: Please

Your thumbs hovered over the letters ‘N’ and ‘O’, but there was a part of you that couldn’t deny how excited the idea of seeing him again made you. The sneaking around had your gut twisting in a way that had all of your rational thoughts going right out the door. You’re pathetic, you told yourself as you glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one watched you type your next message.

Y/N: You need to see me so bad that you’re saying please?

Joe: Desperately

Y/N: Oh you’re good lmao

Joe: So I’ll see you in fifteen

Liking the message, you put your head in your hands for a moment and huffed a laugh as you finally turned on the shower and stripped yourself of the now sweaty practice clothes. Most of the girls showered at home after night practices, so only a few remained readying to leave. You took your time, double shampooing and ensuring as many people as possible had departed from the practice facility. 

“Good night, girl!” Carolina called out, walking out the door and leaving only you.

“Night, Carol!”

With shaky breaths, you brushed your wet hair once again and looked into the mirror. You had no makeup on and wore shorts and a Bengals hoodie now, which did nothing for your confidence as you walked out of the locker room with your bag in hand and cast your eyes downward. In your attempts to look unsuspicious, you took the long back hallway that wrapped around the inside of the stadium. There was the muffled sound of the janitors' speakers, but they were far from where you were and each office and support center looked desolate and left for the night.

The door to the players’ locker room was slightly ajar, leaving you to glance around again and double check Joe’s camera assessment. He was right, there was a camera on the end of the hallway, but it faced the opposite direction and caught whoever took the main entrance inside of this part of the building. Quickly, you slipped into the much nicer locker room and shut the door behind you. 

“That was twenty-five minutes,” Joe’s voice sounded from behind you.

“This is a stupid idea,” you cast him a playfully annoyed glance and locked the door behind you, turning to find him in shorts and a black T-shirt. “You’re a really bad influence, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” he walked towards you with such ease that you wouldn’t have believed he was just bed-ridden from surgery. His fingers found the hem of your hoodie, smirking down at you in his usual arrogantly charming manner. “I’m still glad you came, though. Even if I compromise your moral judgment so badly.”

He is so fucking hot, you thought as he continued fiddling with your sweatshirt. How is it possible to have this much sex appeal? How is it humanly possible for anyone to resist a look like his? Your entire body was on fire, swallowing hard and wondering once again how you wound up here with him.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed. “I know I keep saying that and you’re probably sick of it. It’s true, though.”

The pads of his thumb and index finger brushed your bare torso, the circular motion leaving you breathing a bit heavier. His touch was less feverish than usual, more gentle and fleeting like he wanted you to know how much he wanted you. Hardly blinking, you let the tense silence guide you towards him in a way that left you practically flush against each other. Joe’s breathing hitched, giving you those sultry bedroom eyes and stupid smirk.

This time it was you who could no longer resist, kissing him softly as if to say that you, too, could not stop thinking of him. He slid his arms around your lower back, allowing you to wrap yours around his neck. Your back arched slightly at the long kiss, his right hand lowering to grab your ass and squeeze. He somehow maneuvered the two of you farther into the locker room between open-mouth, breathy kisses. Your back collided with the wall to the right of the sequence of open lockers, his mouth on your neck and biting gently at the skin of your collarbone. 

He pulled your hoodie off, throwing it somewhere behind him. Your fingers found his hair, tugging as he marked your chest up ravenously. A problem for later, you pushed the thought away and let your head roll to the side as he palmed both of your breasts through the fabric of your sports bra, occasionally leaving a hum of pleasure against the soft skin between your breasts. He kissed down your stomach and held you roughly by one hip, sinking to his knees looking up at you asking permission. 

“Did you know this was going to happen when you texted me?” You teased, still holding onto him by his hair. 

“When I texted you,” he started, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I prayed to god that this would happen, but I figured you were gonna tell me to fuck off.”

With a playful shove of his head, you looked away with blazing skin and blown pupils. Joe pulled down your shorts in one quick motion, running his hands down your hips and thighs with a lustful expression. He kissed you over the fabric of your underwear, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. There was no denying the arousal dripping from you, wetting your panties, leaving Joe to raise an eyebrow and flash you an egotistical grin. A breathy moan escaped you and he stopped, causing a near-whimper to come from you.

“Quiet, baby,” he chided softly, “I need you to be quiet or we’re both fucked.”

The fact that he had called you baby was something to dissect tomorrow, you only inhaled sharply at his words. He looked up at you again with hair falling over his forehead, “can you be quiet for me?”

If he kept looking at you like that, you would do just about anything for him. You gave him a nod and he kneaded the flesh of your thigh now, finally pulling your underwear down and discarding them carelessly. He wrapped your right leg around his shoulder, on his knees before you.

“Can’t say that I’m complaining at this sight, right where you belong,” you whispered, cheekily.

“You’re hilarious,” he rolled his eyes and pinched your backside. “I’m on my knees for you anytime, just say the word.”

He didn’t give you even a second to respond, tonguing you with such desperation that your toes curled the second he put his mouth on you. Your slick had already coated his mouth and chin, his tongue running between your folds as his nose brushed the bundle of nerves. You struggled to keep quiet, eyes squeezing shut as you rocked your hips into his mouth and relished in each breathy moan that escaped him and reverberated against your center. 

His thumb went to your clit, rubbing feverishly at the bud and watching you turn to putty in his hands. Your legs began to shake violently, wondering how much longer you could stand the tight coiling in your belly. One of your hands remained in his hair, the other gripped the hard wall for any semblance of steadying as he devoured you. 

He grunted against you, picking up his pace and letting his hands explore as you bit back each and every sound you wished to make. He steadied you as you came undone, panting and unable to move or see. Stars clouded your vision, black spots causing you to close your eyes and breathe for a moment as you regained feeling of your body again.

The handle of the door shook, someone was trying to get in.

“Fuck,” you whispered at Joe, who was already carefully dropping your leg and reaching back to grab your shorts and hoodie. 

You slid the shorts on, throwing the hoodie over your head and letting Joe silently lead you farther back into the locker room where the showers were. He gave you a look that said to sit tight and make no noise. He didn’t look nearly as nervous as you, legs still gelatin and causing you to have to lean back against the wall to ensure your balance.

“Anyone in there?” A man’s voice sounded, muffled slightly from the distance now between you and the door. 

“Yeah!” Joe called out as casually as possible, he sauntered over to the door and flicked the lock and opened it. A janitor stood before him, cart beside him to clean. “Hey, Phil. I stayed late tonight, I don’t know why I locked the door. Must’ve been a reflex.”

Phil nodded slowly, he looked into the locker room and saw it all emptied out. Joe rubbed the back of his neck, swallowing and waiting for the man to say something. Phil only coughed and averted his eyes when he saw the lilac underwear balled up on the floor. He met Joe’s eyes and muttered that he’d come back around once he left, but not to be more than ten more minutes. Joe gave him a gracious thanks and sighed in relief as the man retreated down the hallway and brought his cart into another room, shutting the door behind him and turning his radio up considerably louder than he’d ever heard him play it.

“You can come out now,” he said, turning around and seeing the panties on the ground. He had no clue if Phil had seen them, but he also had no doubt that Phil was no busybody or gossip at his ripe age of at least seventy. 

“Do I get to keep these?” He asked as you came out from the showers, holding them up and smirking.

“Did I or did I not say that this was a stupid idea?” 

“Is that a yes or a no?”

once again, let me know to be taken off of or added to the taglist

taglist - @humannoodlesoup @nikkisimps @teasandcrumpets @chmpgnnlace @hummusxx @rivivie @madsblogsstuff @nngkay @raeofsunshine629 @siutforjjmaybank @alternativemadchen @ryiamarie @ohreggieboy @coldheartedmar @obsessed-fan-alert @buckystwilight @dessxoxsworld @manic-pixie-bitch2 @hallecarey1 @heyitskay-21 @joselyn001 @stylesyourmine @toterry @countryday @adventuremood @blu3jeanbaby @sriusun @mikeyspinkcup @kittyhorror777 @riverdalexvixens @hornyforherbert @nhlbabes @unsaidjaelinrose @joselyn001 @littlelou22

[mendeshoney]

this close isn't close enough

a/n: happy thirsty thurday fellow harlots ^_^

this is a small little part 3 ish/sequel to take me back to eden (you can find part one here and part two here) that just popped into my head and i figured i'd jot it down for you all to enjoy. it does discuss wanting and trying for a child, so if that's not something you're comfortable with, this may not be for you, so read with caution. this is for @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech because without them this fictional andrei wouldn't exist! title is from "melt" by kehlani

warnings/tags: nine year age gap, older man x younger woman, slice of married life, baby fever, fluff, lots of smut, shower sex, hotel sex (semi-public, against the window), oral sex, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy/impregnation

word count: 12,163

“Almaznyy?” Andrei calls out, removing his reading glasses with one hand as he shuts his laptop with the other, then rubs the bridge of his nose.

He counts to ten in his head, waiting for your response, but it doesn’t come. The soft and familiar whrrrrr of a machine echoes back at him instead, and he sighs, a small smile stretching across his face as he gets up from his desk to wander down the hall.

When he makes it down the hall and to the threshold that leads to you, he's not surprised in the slightest to find you at your pottery wheel. Your back is to him as you sit on your stool, headphones on as your body lightly moves along to the music playing, hands firm and shaping the clay in front of you into what he knows is the makings of a teapot.

Beside you, on the work table, Andrei sees two mugs newly finished with their handles attached, two finished matching saucer plates that need to be painted with glaze and fired, and two little spoons, already fired and glazed, probably newly taken out of the kiln. Beyond that, he also spots two jars - one for honey and one for sugar cubes, you had told him - and three brand new jars of glaze.

He takes a second to himself to just silently admire you, his beautiful wife of nearly two years, and lets his heart beat wild and content in his chest.

Andrei had converted one of his guest rooms into your own little art studio not long after you moved in with him, and by converted, he means he took out all the furniture, stripped the carpet, and let you decorate and furnish it how you saw fit.

He tried his best to learn as much as he could about what kinds of art you liked creating, the tools you used, but in truth, a lot of it was lost on him, and you had more mediums of art you were interested in than you cared to admit. Andrei had ended up giving you his card instead, telling you to buy whatever it was you needed or wanted, so that the space became exactly what you had always dreamed of.

You had been meticulous about it, too, and Andrei adored every second of watching you design the space back then. The flooring was first - you insisted on water and stain proof vinyl floors - followed by shelves, storage drawers, a small desk, your massive work table, and other organizing things. Then, once you had a place and space for everything, you bought canvases, a pottery wheel, clay, easels, paints, a sketchbook, pencils, pens, markers, and more.

You’d bought a kiln, too, which had its own place in a little shed he bought and had built for you outside. Since you'd gotten back into pottery and started making pieces, you'd been able to sell some to a few of the wives, girlfriends, and partners of players on the team, as well as some of Andrei's co-workers in the Canes' front office. You had even put a few up of your paintings and drawings you'd done on your larger canvases in their charity auctions over the last couple of years, which had given you a significant amount of your own money.

Andrei encouraged you to go legit and open up a shop, which was an idea you'd been slowly getting used to. You'd set up a website so far, and had sold your first collection a couple of months ago - planters and vases and hanging planters and such - which had done extremely well, but you insisted you wanted to still be able to find fun in doing it again instead of allowing it to feel like an obligation.

To help with that as of late, had been your project of a tea set for his mom's birthday, which was still months away. You'd been using the kiln a lot more because of it, for test pieces as well as the actual pieces themselves, so more often than not lately, your art studio is where he found you.

"If you call for me and I don't respond to you in ten seconds," you'd told him when you first started on the set, "I'm either in here, or at the kiln out back."

Quietly, he observes as you shape the lump of clay in the center of your wheel into a sphere, then, unhappy with the roundness, you carefully squeeze at it until it's back into another lump, before shaping it out once more. The rise of your shoulders before they tense as you start to create a hole in the middle of the clay, and the fall of them again when you start to pinch at the walls until it forms into the exact shape you want.

Only when you stop the wheel and dip your hands into the bowl of water beside you to get rid of the excess clay does Andrei approach, carefully placing his hands on your shoulders to give you a gentle squeeze.

You tilt your head back, bumping it into his abdomen gently as you gaze up at him with his favorite dazzling smile. He carefully removes your headphones, putting it on the work table and smoothing your hair down.

"Hi baby," he murmurs, bending down to press a kiss to your forehead, the tip of your nose, and then to your lips.

You hum softly before sitting up, turning yourself around on the stool to face him. "Hi handsome," you return, grabbing a towel from the work table and wiping your hands before settling them on his waist, fingers playing with the belt loops of his jeans. "Did you call for me a lot?"

"Just once," he says, unable to resist bending down to kiss you again.

He loves looking at you like this, soft in the mid morning light, a blissful smile on your face with dots of clay and glaze over your cheeks and on the little apron you have covering your clothes. He loves how he can smell the vanilla of your body wash among the earthen scents in the art studio, and how it makes him feel like he's completely at peace.

Andrei loves you. His almaznyy. His beautiful diamond. His wife.

"What's going on?" You ask him, those beautiful eyes crinkling at the edges in another one of his favorite smiles when his hands descend into your hair, carding the strands between his fingers.

"I bought the tickets for us to go and visit Evgeny and Sara." He says.

"Oh good," you say with a nod before leaning into his touch. "When do we leave?"

"Next week," he says, tugging playfully on a strand of your hair and chuckling softly when you pout at him for it. "Is that okay?"

You wrap your arms around his waist, rubbing your face into his clothed abdomen, your verbal response muffled in the fabric. Andrei laughs, scratching gently at your scalp. "What was that, almaznyy?"

"Da," you say, leaning back to look at him again but keeping your arms secured around his waist. "That's fine with me."

He smirks when he spots a familiar glint in your eyes, watching the way your pupils dilate then blow out a little wide when he cups your face in his hands, thumbs caressing at your jaw. "My busy little almaznyy, you've been working hard lately, haven't you?"

You nod, humming in agreement. He nods too, letting one of his hands trail down and to the back of your neck, deftly undoing the knots at the top of your apron. "So diligent," he praises, "What did I do to deserve you?"

Your eyes track him as he removes his hands from your body, lowering himself to his knees so he can wrap his arms around your waist to get at the ties behind you. He buries his face into your neck as he does so, adoring the way your head immediately tilts to allow him the room. He ghosts his lips across the skin as he undoes the ties around your waist, ignoring your little whines of protest when he pulls the apron off of you and tosses it to the side.

He sits back on his haunches, looking up at you with a Cheshire grin of his own. "You got clay on your clothes too, almaznyy." He playfully chastises, gesturing towards the little flecks of clay on the black shirt you're wearing - which is most definitely his - and to the miniscule spots on your sweatpants. "Think we should probably get you cleaned up in that case, shouldn't we?"

A small smirk crosses your lips as you nod, and Andrei smiles, surging up to wrap you in his arms. You go easily, both your bodies on muscle memory as you wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, and he lifts you into his hold easily, standing with you and carrying you off down the hall to your bedroom.

~

The warm spray of the shower cascades down his bare back as Andrei fucks you slow and deep against the tiles, his arms settled into the space behind your knees as he holds you up and open for him.

Your cries echo around the bathroom, your arms wrapped around his neck and fingers tangled in his hair, grasping at the strands desperately, his name a repeated plea on your lips.

"More," you beg sweetly, and he smiles, eyes locked on your face. He lowers you a little bit, and on the next push in, your eyes flutter shut as your mouth falls open in a beautiful cry, pussy squeezing around his cock in a way that makes him so fucking dizzy.

"Come on baby," he coaxes, pressing you impossibly closer against the tiles and against himself, burying his face in your neck to suck a bruise into the skin. With every press of his hips forward, your clit grinds against his abs, and he can feel the way your body begins to tense up and shake in his hold, your nails disappearing from his scalp to dig into his shoulders instead.

His name leaves your lips in another desperate plea, and he chuckles, nipping playfully at the skin of your neck, your jaw, before capturing your lips in a filthy kiss. He licks into your mouth, massaging his tongue with yours before he pulls away just slightly, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth as he goes.

"Is my pretty wife going to come on her husband's cock?" He taunts, and he sees the way the words go straight through you, your eyes glazing over, body going almost lax in his grip.

(He'd gotten much filthier and practically insane with his dirty talk over time. It started not long after you'd left Eden and began officially dating nearly seven months after meeting, and had only gotten more intense during the three month time span that you'd been engaged. It didn't help the fact that he noticed you particularly loved when he called you his wife, regardless of the situation.)

"Andrei," you plead. "Please."

"Please what, pretty baby?" He murmurs, dragging his lips against yours lazily, "What is it my pretty wife wants, hm?"

Your pussy squeezes down again and he groans, stealing another filthy kiss from you. "'M so close," you say between kisses, dragging your nails across his shoulders again.

He keeps your legs hooked over his bent arms, reaching his hands down to squeeze at your waist, thumb rubbing gently over where he knows a little diamond tattoo sits at your side, fucking you onto his cock in deep, sharp thrusts that steal your breath from you, and your eyes squeeze shut as your body shakes even more in his hold.

Andrei latches his lips to that sensitive spot on your neck, pressing his body tight against yours. That, and the added friction as your clit rubs against his abs, your sensitive nipples brushing against his chiseled chest, has you coming around him with a loud cry. Your pussy clamps down, pulsing around him and Andrei groans, holding you tight as he fucks past the grip, chasing after his own orgasm.

He groans low and deep, electricity shooting up his spine as he comes, filling you from where he's buried deep. It sends your body into a second orgasm almost immediately, and Andrei curses, muttering a string of Russian in your ear at the unexpected sensation.

You both take a blissful, fucked out moment to calm down, heartbeats slowing and breathing returning to normal.

"Okay?" He murmurs after a few minutes, and you nod, sighing happily in his hold. He taps your hips, and you nod again. An unhappy sounding noise leaves you when he gently pulls out, and his heart aches a little bit, thinking you’re probably sore. He’s immediately pressing apologetic kisses to your forehead while lowering you to the ground. His hands stay on your body, keeping you steady until you manage to stand on your own.

When his eyes finally get back to your face, there's an expression there he hasn't seen before, one he can't quite place. There's a tinge of disappointment there, and longing, and it brings a frown to his face too.

He cups your face in his hands, tilting your head up to look at him. When your eyes lock, the expression fades, and the smile that takes over your face is so brightly it almost knocks him off of his feet.

"What's wrong, almaznyy?" He says, thumb brushing against your cheeks.

You lean into his touch, hands circling around his wrists. "Nothing, Drei." You promise, "I'm perfectly happy."

There's nothing in your voice or in your face now that tells him that you're lying, or that you're hiding anything from him, so he has no reason to not believe you.

Still, he stores the expression he saw away for later, keeping it in mind just in case.

He takes his time washing you both off after that, enjoying the content noises you make as he shampoos your hair and wraps you up in a fluffy towel when you're all done, pressing gentle kisses all over your face before seizing your mouth in a kiss he hopes tells you "I'm so in love with you I think my heart might burst without you."

~

Andrei quickly darts out of the way as a little boy zooms past him, his father chasing after him and tossing a “sorry!” over his shoulder as he goes.

He laughs a little, calling out a “it’s okay!” in their way as he double checks that he still has a hold on your drinks and food before he keeps walking. 

He heads back into the airport lounge and straight for you, handing you a cup of hot chocolate and a warmed up croissant from one of the bistros in the terminal. You accept it with a happy smile and a murmured ‘thank you’ before he snuggles up next to you on the little couch you’ve both managed to commandeer for yourselves.

He glances over at your airport outfit once more, mostly because he can’t help but appreciate how cozy you look.

Admittedly, he’s still got a small habit of dressing up when he flies, so he’s his standard in black pants and a white shirt, and you insisted on matching with him when you got dressed this morning. You’re in black lounge pants, a white shirt, and you have a gray sweater tied and resting around your shoulders.

Andrei figured out that when you fly you prefer to have your own blanket with you, which you have curled around your shoulders right now as you take a sip of your hot chocolate.

You look more ready for a cozy winter than you do for a week-long vacation during the summer in San Jose.

“Is it good baby?” He asks, taking a sip of his own coffee. You nod, holding the cup to your cheek. Another thing he learned - you get cold easily, but especially in airports.

“Very,” you nod, leaning your head to rest on his shoulder. “Spasibo, malysh.”

“You’re welcome, almaznyy.” 

He’s content to relax like that with you, and when he takes his phone out once you’ve finished your drinks, you help him with the crossword puzzle game he became addicted to once he saw you playing it yourself.

The two of you are engrossed in trying to figure out a six letter word for the clue “tough” when there’s a blur of pale yellow accompanied by a flurry of giggles that crashes into your legs, and it makes both of you jump up a little in surprise.

It’s a baby boy, Andrei realizes, one who’s most likely just learned what running is given the delighted and mischievous expression on his face, and when he turns to check if you’re okay, he’s surprised to find you out of your seat, blanket abandoned, and kneeling on the floor in front of the child to see if they’re okay.

The baby looks like he’s seconds from crying, but then you’re smiling, speaking at him quietly and gently, and to Andrei’s amazement, the baby stops, looks at you, and then bursts into a fit of giggles.

You laugh, happy that you could make him feel better, and continue to speak to him while he babbles away at you. He’s seen you do it with Luka, coaxing him away from a tantrum he’d been seconds away from, and calming Mila down when she scraped her knee while learning to ride her bike that first time, and it still amazes him how good you are with kids. Something warm and fuzzy starts to grow in his heart, and it stops short when a woman who Andrei can only assume is the baby’s mother approaches.

“I’m so sorry!” She says, jogging toward where you and the baby are on the ground. “Leo’s just discovered how fast he can move but we’re still working on finding his brakes.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure her through a laugh. “My nephew Luka was the same.”

My nephew - Andrei still loved that you thought that way.

“He probably had places to be and we were just in the way, weren’t we Leo?” You tease, pulling a funny face at Leo. His mom laughs when Leo bursts into giggles, picking Leo up into her arms.

“He’s fast,” Andrei notes when you stand with her, “How old is he?”

“He just turned one,” his mom gushes. 

You make a little cooing sound. “Is he your first?”

Leo’s mother shakes her head with a laugh. “You’d think so, but I have a three year old too. His name’s Sky, he’s with my husband over there, we finally just got him to settle down but then this little guy decided it was time to sprint.”

You and Andrei look over to where Leo’s mom gestured, finding the three year old who almost ran him over earlier eating snacks while his dad watches over him, all the while looking over at his wife and smiling when he sees her.

Andrei knows that smile, he probably sends that same smile your way about a hundred times a day. 

Ulybka vlyublennogo muzhchiny. His mom had said. The smile of a man in love.

“You should think about getting them into sports soon.” Andrei says when he turns back toward the mom, “Sky almost tackled me in the terminal earlier-”

“-And Leo barely flinched when he ran into me!” You tease, making another funny face at the baby. He giggles, suddenly growing shy as he hides in his mom’s shoulders.

She laughs, “Everyone’s been saying that to me. I might just have to consider it.”

Andrei reaches into his pocket, grabbing his business card from his wallet and hands it to the mother with a small smile. “If you ever think they’re interested in hockey, give me a call or send me an email. I’d be happy to get them set up.”

The mother takes Andrei’s card with a curious look, and when she reads his name, her eyes light up in recognition, and she smiles, laughing a little to herself.

“I knew you looked familiar! My husband and I are big fans. We were there for your last cup winning game. It’s so nice to meet you!”

Andrei catches the glance you shoot at him from the corner of his eye, can see the tense line of your shoulders in his peripheral, but he gives the mother an easy smile, and your body relaxes.

Now that he has you, that time in his life isn’t so painful anymore.

“Thank you,” he says genuinely. “I’m glad that you were there, it felt good to have home crowd support.”

“I appreciate your offer, I’ll definitely reach out.” She says, then looks at both of you. “It was nice meeting you both, you’re such a lovely couple!”

You both say your goodbyes, you waving at baby Leo, who waves back shyly, then looks at Andrei. Andrei waves too, and to his surprise, baby Leo waves back to him too, before burying his face in his mother’s shoulder.

You finally return to your seat on the couch next to Andrei, wrapping both of your arms around his, resting your chin on his shoulder as you smile brightly up at him.

“That was hot of you.” You say, which has Andrei laughing in surprise.

“What was, almaznyy?”

“You and your business cards.” You say, scrunching your nose a little. “I liked it, it was very authoritative.”

Andrei shakes his head, booping your nose with his finger. “Calm yourself down, almaznyy. I’m still not interested in being part of the mile high club.”

You roll your eyes with a shrug, but relax fully against his side. “Offer still stands.”

~

You're laying on the floor of Sara and Evgeny's living room, laughing as you bounce eight month old baby Alexei up and down against your belly, watching as his little legs kick back and forth and he babbles his joy. From beside you, three year old Luka lays on his belly as he plays with the train set Andrei had bought him last Christmas, and five year old Mila rests on your other side, coloring diligently in the sketchbook you'd bought her for her birthday.

She'd seen you drawing in one of your journals and had become both enraptured and amazed as she observed you, and then had been overjoyed when you handed her the book and pencil so she could create her own drawings as she pleased.

Her parents had been worried that she might accidentally press the pencil too tight and ruin one of your other drawings, or accidentally draw over something you had done, but either way, you would have cared less. "It's good for her to do it this way," you had told them, "so she knows what she makes is important, too."

On the couch above you, Sara's feeding a bottle to Alexei's twin brother Aleksander, watching you and her children. She smiles, nudging you gently in the side with her socked feet.

"You're a natural at this," she praises. "The kids always seem to behave better when you're here."

You scoff a little, making nonsensical noises at Alexei as he babbles back at you. "Hardly," you say. "I think it's because Andrei wears them out first."

When you and Andrei come around, he tends to round up his niece and nephews, tiring the older ones out by running around while you and Sara or Evgeny or Andrei's parents help with the twins.

Sara shakes her head. "No, he might wear them out, but they still have plenty of room to be crazy. You settle them down. This is the quietest they've been all day."

You look at your nieces and nephews at where they each are, peaceful and happy and content, and you shrug, smiling a little to yourself. "I guess so."

Sara laughs, nudging you again. "So, when are you gonna have some little ones of your own? We're outnumbered by boys here and it's your turn to pop a baby out for once."

You falter slightly, almost dropping baby Alexei straight on your face before you catch him effortlessly, trying to ignore the wave of dizziness when you launch yourself upright into a sitting position. Luka and Mila barely spare either of you a glance, too focused on what they're doing. You gaze at Sara, holding Alexei tight with one hand while shushing her with the other.

"Not so loud!" You half whisper, half yell.

Andrei and Evgeny were just in the kitchen not too far away, and while they were probably distracted by shop talk, you couldn't risk him hearing like this.

Sara narrows her eyes at you, frowning, whisper-yelling right back. "You told me on the phone last week that you were going to talk to him about it! And the week before that, and two weeks before that!"

You groan, shaking your head and beginning to bounce Alexei again when he starts to fuss. Sara shakes her head right back at you, gesturing for you to follow her as she heads toward the twins' nursery, instructing Mila and Luka to "wait right here while mommy talks to your aunt."

As you head to the nursery, you pass Andrei and Evgeny who are, as expected, engrossed in their conversation, but it doesn't stop Andrei from tossing a wink at you as you pass by.

You pointedly ignore the way it makes butterflies swarm and swoop in your stomach, smiling softly in return before ducking out of sight and into the nursery. Sara shuts the door behind you, giving you a pointed look as she does so.

You'd had best friends before, obviously, but never an older sister figure, and none quite like Sara. When Andrei had introduced you two, she'd been nothing but welcoming, friendly, and someone you'd come to rely on quite a lot since then.

When she announced she was pregnant with twins last year, you'd been overjoyed for her, and often traveled back and forth between San Jose and Raleigh to help her with the babies, especially since it had been Evgeny's first year working with the coaching staff of the Sharks, having previously been in the front office.

Maybe it was the excitement you got in helping her decorate the nursery, even though most of it was taken care of since they had things from Luka and Mila, or maybe it was just all the preparation you helped her with, but it had given you severe baby fever.

Like...severe.

Severe enough that you were practically ready to be pregnant that very same day until reality kicked in and knocked some serious sense into you.

You'd asked her how she and Evgeny had approached the topic of having kids, if she had advice on how you should broach the subject with Andrei, and she had only one thing to say.

"They're pretty direct people," she had said. "It's best to rip the bandaid off with something like that."

A couple of months ago, she texted you a picture of the twins in the matching pajama set you'd bought, and something in it made you want to finally talk to Andrei about it. So you told Sara that you would.

But...

The second you'd gone to Andrei in his office about it, you suddenly got cold feet. Realistically, you two hadn't actually talked about having kids before. Things with the two of you had been unconventional and fast from the start, so granted, you both had done things a little messily and quite backwards.

Still, the worst he could say to you was "no" or "not right now baby," but despite your past mess you two had always been on the same page, so the idea of hearing a "not right now" was okay, but hearing "no"?

Yeah, not something you had exactly prepared yourself for.

So instead of allowing there to be room for a "no" or "not right now," you just...didn't say a word.

Which Sara was definitely going to yell at you for.

Or at least, whisper yell, what with the twins going down for their nap and all.

Sara lays a droopy Aleksander into his crib, and he falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow. She takes Alexei from you next, sitting in the rocking chair set up in the corner of the room to start to feed him his bottle while you sit on the floor, gazing at baby Aleksander through the bars of his crib.

"What in the world are you waiting for?" Sara asks you, voice soft but firm in the nursery. 

You groan a little to yourself. "I just haven't gotten around to it, okay?"

"Yes, but why?" She presses. "You know he won't say no to you."

"I actually don't know that. He might not be able to say no when I ask for help, or ask for something, but children are not things to ask for. It's an entire human being you're bringing into the world, you know!"

Sara gives you a deadpan expression. "Of course I know, I've brought four of them into existence."

"Then you know that it's a lot to ask. Even if I want a child, even if I want to be a mom and raise my kids and bring them up, that doesn't guarantee that Andrei wants the same."

"He'll want them with you." Sara insists. "He'll want them because you'll be their mother and he's in love with you and those kids will be half of you and he'll be so proud to say that they're your children."

The idea fills you with hope, but you tamp it down. You have to be realistic about this. You know your husband, and you know that while Sara's right and he will do anything for you, he also probably won't handle this being sprung on him as a surprise, or appreciate being confronted with it out of the blue.

"Just get rid of your birth control and tell him you want a kid." Sara insists, and your eyes bug out of your head.

"Are you insane?" You whisper yell. "That would definitely give him a heart attack."

"Don't be so dramatic," she says, rolling her eyes. "He's too young to have those."

"I'll talk to him," you promise, more to yourself than to Sara. "But I'm not using any of your suggestions."

Sara shrugs. "Fine by me, but there'd better be a new baby next Christmas, and it won't be mine."

~

In the kitchen, Andrei watches with fond eyes as you disappear into the nursery with Sara and the twins. He's listening to what Evgeny's talking about, he really is, but his eyes are locked on the silent screen of the baby monitor, showing you handing Alexei off to Sara after Sara's put Aleksander down.

Watching you with his niece and nephews all day had filled his heart with something warm and fuzzy, something he couldn't quite place.

The way that you cared for his family since he introduced you to them was something that made Andrei incredibly happy, and he could tell that the way that they cared for you in turn made you just as happy.

He often caught you speaking with his mother on the phone, trying your best to only stick to Russian as best as possible to make her comfortable. His father didn't reach out often, but when he did, you did your best to converse with him too. Sometimes, when you thought Andrei wasn't looking, he'd see you reading through a Russian textbook in your art studio, brushing up on the language.

You talked to Sara almost every week, the two of you growing to be as close as sisters, and that made Andrei happy considering the only real sibling relationship you had was still pretty strained. Even after Andrei married you, your brother Joshua still wasn't his favorite person, which was unfortunate, considering his husband Sam was an angel and one of your favorite people.

Evgeny had also grown closer to you a little, considering how much you helped him and Sara prepare for the arrival of the twins. There were times he'd reach out to you if he couldn't reach Andrei for any reason, and Evgeny often teased Andrei about how more often than not, it seemed like a freak accident that he'd managed to find someone like you to be his wife.

"Believe me," Andrei had told his brother. "I know."

He listens intently to his brother as he discusses what's going on with the Sharks, clearly seeking Andrei's advice, but all the while, Andrei keeps his eyes on you, watches you through the baby monitor as you sit with Sara and the twins.

Everything about your body language screams comfort, like there's nowhere in the world you'd rather be, and it brings a smile to his face unconsciously.

Evgeny pauses in his ranting, glancing to the baby monitor and rolling his eyes, shoving at Andrei. "Obrashchat' vnimaniye," he scolds. Pay attention.

"I am!" Andrei insists, turning his full attention back to his brother. "You were saying?"

Evgeny opens his mouth, then closes it, a curious expression crossing his features. "Have you thought about it?"

"About what?" Andrei asks, moving his brother so he can go into the fridge and steal one of those obnoxious glass bottles of water Evgeny insists on buying.

"About what comes after marriage," Evgeny says. "About having kids."

Andrei almost drops the water bottle on the kitchen floor, can hear it shatter in his ears, but he's pretty sure that's his brain doing that. "About what?" He asks, voice practically an echo in his head.

Evgeny shakes his head. "Ty takoy idiot."

Andrei turns to face him, frowning. "I am not an idiot."

"You are, actually. Have you two not talked about having kids?"

Andrei opens his mouth, then shuts it.

You two actually hadn't. Not really. Not at all, now that he thought about it.

Evgeny shakes his head. "Listen, I know you're enjoying your never ending honeymoon phase, but it wouldn't hurt to ask."

Andrei takes a swig from his water, glancing at you on the monitor.

You've got Alexei in your arms now, feeding him the rest of his bottle while Sara rests on the rocking chair, eyes on Aleksander.

His heart does a little flip, imagining you holding a little baby that's got your nose and his eyes, and it brings back the warm and fuzzy feeling he'd felt earlier.

Maybe...maybe it was worth a discussion.

~

Since Evgeny's house had gotten crowded with all the kids, Andrei had booked a suite for the two of you at the Marriott.

It had a lovely view of the city, especially at night, and Andrei enjoyed it even more with your naked body pressed against one of the many floor to ceiling windows, watching the way your face twisted with pleasure in the reflection of the glass.

The lights were off in the hotel room, so there wasn't a single chance of anyone seeing what the two of you were up to, but the thrill was there all the same. He wanted to show you off, show off his beautiful little wife, the only diamond he ever needed.

Your palm prints littered the window as you pushed back against him, and Andrei groaned, tightening the grip on your hips, fingers pressing against where he knew that little diamond tattoo rested beneath the waistband of your thong.

He could barely wait, barely think by the time you both got back to the hotel. The second your jeans were off, he pulled your thong to the side and slid in to the hilt, burying himself inside of you and making you come all over him in seconds.

It wasn't often that Andrei took you from behind. More often than not, he preferred looking at you, preferred watching the beautiful faces you made and watching the way your body reacted to his own. But in times like these, where there was something that could help him watch you, he couldn't exactly complain.

He releases his hold on one of your hips, letting his hands wander up your torso, bringing you upright against him as he bends his knees a little, adjusting for your height difference so he can cage you against him as he fucks into you.

Pleasant and happy noises leave you as he plays with one of your nipples, then the other, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses on your neck. His nails gently scratch at the valley between your breasts, making you shiver, before trailing his hand down your stomach.

He had every intention of putting his fingers to your clit, rubbing gently there the way you liked when he took you like this, but instead, his hands lingered on your stomach, on where he could feel the slight bulge of where his cock fucked in and out of you, and he found his hands resting there instead.

A shiver ran through your body, your pussy pushing back on his cock again as if on impulse, and a deep, pleased noise rumbled through Andrei's chest.

"Almaznyy?" He murmured against your neck, finding the sensitive spot below your ear and sucking against it gently.

You gasped in his hold, shaking a little, and he chuckled, pressing his hand against the little bulge of your stomach, the hand he still had on your waist tightening its grip, pressing his fingers a little more into the diamond tattoo.

"Can you feel me here, moya krasivaya zhena?" He asks you, cock throbbing when you squeeze against him in excitement. You loved it when he called you ‘my pretty wife.’ "Can you feel me fucking you?"

You nod, frantic, hands gripping onto his arms. "Please, malysh, wanna come."

"You wanna come already?" He taunts. "Gonna come for me in front of the whole city?"

A soft whine leaves your lips as he thrusts in particularly hard, emphasizing his question.

"Yes," you answer, nearly breathless.

“And what about me?” He teases, pressing his hand against your stomach a little more. "You want me to come inside, almaznyy? Want me to come right here?"

In the reflection of the window, he catches the way your eyes slam shut before you throw your head back against his shoulder, mouth open in a silent cry and body seizing as your orgasm claims you. Your pussy clenches impossibly tight, and it sends Andrei over the edge in seconds, pushing down on your waist to bury himself inside of you, cock throbbing almost painfully as he comes.

The two of you shake silently for a second, and Andrei holds you both upright as best as he can until he can feel your body as it calms down. He pulls out gently, not wasting a second before he scoops you up, walking you over to the bed to lay you on it gently before he climbs on beside you.

You go to him almost immediately, and his arms open on instinct, welcoming you in his embrace as you bury your nose in his chest.

He wants to say something, anything. He wants to ask you if what just happened was okay, if you're okay, if he didn't cross a line, if you maybe wanted to try that again sometime soon or maybe if you want to try it in a different position.

But then he hears your breathing start to even out, feels the way your body goes lax in his hold, and he resigns himself to discussing it another time.

~

The following day, you and Andrei head back over to Sara and Evgeny’s for lunch. You help Sara put the kids down for their naps after you all eat, and Andrei and Evgeny handle the dishes.

When you and Sara come out of the kids’ rooms, you’re met with a chorus of laughter from Andrei, Evgeny, and then their mother’s voice echoes through the living room.

Peeking around the corner, you can see Andrei and Evegny crowded around Evgeny’s laptop, definitely on FaceTime with their mother.

She signals to you to hang back, and you nod. You’re more than happy to give Andrei and his brother the alone time they need to speak with their mom, so you lean back against the wall, Sara against the one opposite you, and you smile at each other when you hear the brother excitedly converse with their mother in Russian.

Your fluency has gotten better, but it’s not one hundred percent - same with Sara’s - so the two of you can only really pick up on bits and pieces here and there, catching tidbits of their mother’s praises for her boys along with her normal chastising.

You two are looking fit!

Still, you both need to eat more. 

You’re working too hard.

Are you ready for the upcoming season?

Oh my brilliant boys!

How are my daughters?

How are the grandkids?

Evgeny, you’d better bring them by soon so I can babysit.

Andrei, how are you doing?

Are you and my favorite girl happy?

When are you two going to give me more grandchildren?!

That last part sends a shock through your body, and Sara nudges you with her foot at the same time Andrei begins to stutter and stammer in the living room.

Their mom starts to say something else when her voice gets quieter, and you realize Andrei’s turned the volume down. His voice gets a little quieter, and Evgeny’s loud laughter drowns out whatever Andrei says in return to their mother.

Sara gives you another pointed look, as if to say “So you still didn’t talk to him about it.”

You roll your eyes, and she nudges your foot again before dragging you down the hall and into her and Evgeny’s bedroom. 

“For the love of God,” she says. “I know you said you’re not taking my suggestions, but you are going to have to take this one, specifically with the promise that you’ll at least save it until you get back to Raleigh.”

You answer her with a deadpan stare, and she sighs, exasperated, before gesturing to you. 

“You have to seduce him.” She says plainly. “It’s how I did it with Evgeny, and it’s how you’re going to have to do it with Andrei instead of tiptoeing around.”

You’re slightly dumbfounded, so all you can manage is a weak “What?”

“Remember when I told you to rip the bandaid off?” She asks, and you nod. She waves a hand around, “Well, that’s what I meant by that. Seduce him. Rip the bandaid off.”

“Seduce him…” You say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement.

Sara grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you a bit. “You know he loves you, you know he thinks you’re hot. Use it.”

Sara doesn’t know how you and Andrei met, no one does except Lottie, Oli, Mason, Eli, and you and Andrei. She has no idea about your past.

Which means she has no idea that if there is anything you know how to do, it’s seduce Andrei.

~

You try your best to clear your mind, focusing on exfoliating your skin as you shower and the things you’re planning on doing once this shower is done.

It had been a week since you’d returned from visiting with Sara and Evgeny, and this morning, you’d gone to see your OBGYN doctor to discuss…well, a possible game plan.

You agreed that after you finished this round of birth control pills and had your period, you and Andrei would probably start trying.

And well, after you spoke to Andrei about all of this, of course. 

But Sara was right, seduction might have to come first. You were too out of sorts to wait any longer.

He had been gone this morning when you went to your appointment, having to be at the practice rink to watch the team’s morning skate, and when you had returned home after running some errands, he’d been in his office for a string of phone calls, which he said he’d be in and out of till about two this afternoon.

It was about noon, then. So you’d gone on a run, had a little pep talk with yourself to prepare for the impending conversation, and strategized.

The pep talk you had was simple - if during said conversation, Andrei voiced that he didn’t want kids, that was that. You would not be forcing him into anything he didn’t want or trying to convince him, and the two of you would likely talk things out from there.

If he did want kids, perfect, you could talk about that, but, you could also give him a bit of extra motivation.

Which brought you to the seduction strategy you’d developed so carefully on the way back from your run.

It was about one in the afternoon when you got back, so you threw together a quick lunch for you and Andrei to have - once he was done with his phone calls and you - and it was about one thirty when you hopped into the shower.

You’d gone for a wax right after your doctor’s appointment, as part of the errands you ran, along with a mani pedi, but a little extra gentle exfoliation on the legs never hurt anyone.

Once you finished in the shower, you toweled off and applied the vanilla lotion Andrei loved the most on you, before slipping on one of your favorite sundresses. It was also one Andrei liked on you, particularly because it was just the right side of see through. 

Hence, why it was a key part to your strategy.

It might be devious, and it’s definitely playing dirty, but you need a little ammunition on your side, if not for the sake of a small confidence boost to get you through the conversation.

You did this for a living, for a time. You did this specifically for Andrei before, it shouldn’t be too hard to do it for him again. Sure, the way that you seduced him now looked different, the way that you were together now had changed drastically, but Sara was right. At the very least, Andrei loved you, and he never failed to remind you how attractive you were to him.

So hopefully, this worked.

You checked the time on the clock on your nightstand - one fifty five. A quick glance in the mirror assured you this was the best option outfit wise, and your nerves reminded you that you’d both probably need a little bit of liquid courage for this next bit. Heading back out to the kitchen, you make yourself a quick margarita and pour Andrei a shot of his favorite whisky. 

If there was anything you knew about your husband, sometimes he just needed a little something to take the edge off before he could plow forward with whatever it was he needed to do. He was bound to be nervous once you brought up the idea of having a baby, especially if you were going to be playing just a little bit dirty about it. 

You grabbed both glasses and headed back down the hall to Andrei’s office. Just as you crossed the threshold, he was bidding whoever was on the other line goodbye, and you took a deep breath to steel yourself.

Andrei is your husband. You love each other. You reminded yourself. He is your husband. You can get through anything together.

Andrei smiles when you hand him his glass, his reading glasses perched on his nose making him look both hot, authoritative, and innocent all at once. “Now how did you know I needed this, moya zhena?”

You shrug, playing innocent. “A lucky guess.”

You both toast, clinking your glasses before each taking a sip of your respective drinks. You try to hide your smile behind your glass as you do, but you should’ve known better.

Andrei’s almost always looking at you, so nothing ever could get past your loving and doting husband.

“What’s that smile doing there?” He teases, and it’s then that he seems to finally take in what you’re wearing.

And that you’re wearing nothing underneath it.

You try another innocent smile, but Andrei raises a brow in suspicion, quirking his finger and summoning you to his side of the desk.

Placing your glass down on the mahogany, you round the desk to his side, obeying when he taps the desk and jumping up, taking a seat but keeping your legs crossed.

You don’t want him distracted.

“Are you about to ask me for something expensive, almaznyy? Because if you are, you’re off to a good start.”

You never actually needed to do anything if it was expensive, including asking him for anything, since you did have your own income, and you both knew that. But still, every now and again you liked to pretend like you did, liked the way it made Andrei nervous and pliant, like he didn’t meet you the way he actually did, like he wasn’t familiar with the concept. 

But that wasn’t what you were going for here.

“Well,” you start, “it’s sort of expensive. An…investment, if you will.”

He frowns slightly. “Don’t tell me Jarvy’s wife actually talked you into wanting to buy that monstrosity of a beach house.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of you, having almost completely forgotten Tessa’s attempt to expand her real estate portfolio by tempting you with an even bigger sunroom than the one you and Andrei had now.

You shake your head. “No no, I don’t want that house.”

“But you do want a house?” Andrei inquires.

You shake your head, nerves suddenly racing through your veins. It makes your hands shake, so you reach out for him, cupping his jaw with your hand, leaving the other resting in your lap. You thumb over the stubble along his jaw, humming to yourself, trying to gather the right words.

It makes Andrei nervous. “Listen, almaznyy, whatever it is, we-”

“I want this house, Bubby,” you interrupt, wanting to be out with it but also not sure if you were remotely prepared for the rest of his sentence. At the pet name, Andrei’s eyes get brighter, his entire demeanor softening. “I want this house, with you and I in it, and maybe…maybe a little one running around in it, too.”

There. You said it…kind of.

But it was out there now. 

And Andrei…

There’s surprise in his face, definitely, and you’d been expecting that. But there’s also no…opposition. Nothing that says he doesn’t want to have this conversation, nothing that screams disagreement, nothing that says he doesn’t like the idea.

There are nerves there, like yours, but amongst the nerves and surprise is…hope? Something wistful. 

You lean into it, trailing your hand from his face to his arm, then down to the desk where his hand rests beside your legs. You take it, intertwining your fingers, playing with his hand a little.

“Bubby,” you continue. And that time you’re definitely playing dirty, saying one of his favorite pet names like that, like you want something - which you do, no question - and it makes Andrei’s whole body relax. “I want a baby,” you say, this time, plainly, so there’s no question and no doubt. “I want to have a baby with you.” You glance up at him, finding his intense gaze already on you. “What do you think?”

He’s quiet for a moment, and if you didn’t already know your husband, his lack of a response might concern you. But the look on his face tells you that he’s thinking, and so you wait, giving him enough space and time to collect his thoughts.

Finally, he squeezes your hand, a little sigh of relief mixed with a laugh leaving his chest, eyes crinkling at the corners as a brilliant smile takes over his features. He says nothing, just maneuvers you to part your legs so he can haul you off the desk and into his lap. You go to him easily, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his neck, breathing him in. One of his arms bands itself across your waist, the other across your back so he can cradle the back of your head in his hands.

“I didn’t know how to ask you.” He says softly into your ear. “I’ve been thinking about it, too. How to ask…how to tell you…”

“Ya tozhe,” you tell him. Me too. “I didn’t know if it was something you wanted.”

“We never talked about it,” he agrees. “And we should have, and I’m sorry we didn’t.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, malysh. We’re talking about it now, aren’t we?” You say, pressing a small kiss to his jaw.

He tightens his grip on you. “Because you were brave enough to do it. You’ve always been the brave one of the two of us, almaznyy.”

“You were the one who brought us together, Andrei.” You remind him, “I couldn’t have done that. Only you could have, and you did.”

“I would do it again.” He swears, leaning back a little to press a kiss to your forehead. 

You pull back a little, puckering your lips, and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you softly, gently, and like he has all the time in the world. You love when he kisses you like this, like he’s afraid you’ll break or disappear into thin air. It makes you feel precious, like the very diamond he continues to call you.

“Bubby,” you murmur between kisses, “how many babies do you want?”

There’s a choked noise that bubbles in his throat, so you pull back, looking at him in concern. He reaches for his scotch, but you bat his hand away, handing him the bottle of water he always keeps on his desk instead.

He takes a couple of grateful swigs, and much to his disappointment, you climb off of him and climb back to your perch on his desk, giving him some room to breathe. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. “Didn’t mean to take you by surprise there.”

Andrei shakes his head, putting the closed water bottle down and reaches for his glass, downing the rest of its contents. When it's empty, you take it back from him, putting it on a far enough corner of his desk before reaching for your glass, taking down the rest of your margarita, then set the empty glass next to Andrei’s. Once those are out of the way, you lean back on your hands, your attention solely on Andrei once more.

He’s got a little glint in his eye as he considers you, letting one of his hands come up to rest on your legs, caressing your skin. “You know me, almaznyy. I’m not picky.” He starts. “I’ll be satisfied with as many babies as you’re willing to give me.”

You smile, pleased with his answer. In reward, you nudge the hand he has on your leg a little, and Andrei beams, gently grabbing your calf so he can part your legs, this time, to take in the sight of your bare pussy.

Carefully, you pull up the hem of your dress and push yourself to the edge of his desk, and Andrei takes your ankles, gently placing one on the armrest of his chair, putting the other over his shoulder. He scoots his chair in closer, your leg sliding down his back a little and allowing his hands to rest on your hips.

“We should…” he starts, swallowing. “We should probably talk about this a little more.”

You smirk. “We are talking, though.”

“In depth,” he clarifies. “Get into specifics, and things.”

But even as he says it, you can see in his face you probably wouldn’t get further than the next five minutes. “We can still talk about it after, too, okay? We’ll sit and have a real conversation about it.”

He blinks, nodding, then glances down at where you know he wants to bury his face.

“If you wanted a baby, almaznyy,” he says, warm breath fanning over your lower abdomen, “you didn’t have to play dirty.”

“Dirty?” You ask, innocent as ever. “What do you mean?”

Andrei narrows his eyes at you. “The first time you walked into this office on a mission, you were dressed just like this.”

“You mean when I used to be your assistant?” You tease, and he pinches your thigh playfully.

“Moya zhena,” he warns. He may be playful, but it seems you’ve pushed a few too many buttons in that area today.

Shame, you think. Maybe I can try again after dinner. 

You roll your eyes playfully, pouting a little. “I was nervous and needed some confidence, alright?”

“You look plenty confident to me,” he reassures you with a slight nod, then he’s bunching up the fabric of your dress and pressing against your stomach, his nice way of saying ‘lay back moya zhena, let me take care of you.’

The first swipe of his tongue in your folds takes you by surprise, a pleasant squeal leaving your lips and echoing around his office. His second taste of you is slower, his tongue laying flat against you and dragging from your entrance to your clit, his lips circling around the bud and sucking in a way that elicits a pleasant moan from you.

Andrei’s hands crawl up your body to the neckline of your dress, and you help him a little, slipping the straps off so he can pull the neckline down, cupping your tits in his hands and squeezing.

He’d been particularly fond of the first time you’d had sex in this house together. Had cherished the memory of you in that light pink sundress and on this desk in a similar fashion. It was probably why you’d chosen to approach him this way, he thinks absentmindedly, lips and mouth settling into the familiar pace you love when he’s got his face between your thighs.

Andrei can feel his pants get a little tighter the wetter you get, his chin coated in your slick and nose nudging against your clit as his lips and tongue work you open. He’s so perfectly at peace here, totally content to just lick at you and taste you for hours at a time that he nearly forgets why you’re sprawled out on his desk like this.

You tugging at his hair serves as a gentle reminder that kicks him into gear, and he smiles against your skin, pressing kisses to the junction of your thighs and nipping at you a little.

“Andrei,” you say, breathless. “Potoropites', pozhaluysta.” Hurry up, please.

He shakes his head, gently letting your legs fall to the side as he sits up in his chair, draping his body over yours. “Not this time, almaznyy,” he says, wrapping your arms around his neck before he wraps his own arms around your back, cupping your ass in his hands.

Your brain kicks into gear just in time for you to wrap your legs around his waist, and then he’s lifting you up, pressing filthy open mouth kisses to your neck as he navigates the hallway carefully, taking the measured and familiar steps to your bedroom.

He lays you gently on the mattress, placing you delicately among the pillows before he’s shedding his shirt and pants, kicking his boxer briefs off to the side and then settling back between your legs.

This time, your thighs squeeze at his head when he sucks your pussy into his mouth particularly hard, tongue dipping inside of you, and your fingers fly into his hair, scratching at his scalp in warning.

“Behave, moy muzh.” you hiss through gritted teeth, even if the way you writhe against his face tells him you like it. 

“You started it,” he reminds you, tugging on the dress resting around your middle. You huff, grabbing the bottom and peeling it off, tossing it in the direction of Andrei’s pile of clothes. 

Your eyes sparkle with mischief when you watch the way he takes in the sight of your naked body. No matter how many times the two of you do this, Andrei always looks at you the same way.

Like he’s in love, like it’s the first time, like for all he wants to take you apart, the way he’ll put you back together will be well worth it, and if it isn’t, he’ll work for it until it is.

“Pridi ko mne, lyubov' moya,” you beckon him. Come to me, my love.

His bottom lip drags against your clit as he rises from his position, tongue darting out to lick at your arousal still coating his lips, and the sight alone licks at the flame of arousal sparking low in your belly.

When he crawls up your body to kiss you, he props himself up on his arms, not wanting to rest his full weight on you, his delicate little almaznyy. Normally, you love it, but right now, you need something a little different. 

Your arms wrap around his neck as you seize his mouth in a bruising, desperate kiss, pulling him down to you and taking him by surprise as you manage to flip him onto his back on the way down. You take full advantage of his surprise by making your way down his body to settle between his legs, wrapping your fist around his cock and taking him into your mouth.

Andrei groans, sitting up on his elbows to watch you.

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to make a baby if you keep doing that,” he warns, cock throbbing against your tongue as if to emphasize his point. 

You bat your eyelashes at him, sucking at the head of his cock and using your hands to stroke at him at the same time. He hisses, one of his hands flying to rest in your hair, the other resting behind his head and emphasizing the chiseled muscles of his arms, chest, and abdomen.

Sometimes, you couldn’t believe this man was your husband.

“Almaznyy,” he warns when you take him down your throat, swallowing around him. You’re slow to come off his cock, letting him leave your lips with a dramatic ‘pop.’

“I’m still on birth control,” you tell him. “So we can’t make a baby tonight anyway, probably not for another month, at least.”

His brows furrow, both from your statement and the way you twist your wrist, stroking his cock the way you know he likes. “Then what - ah yebat’ - what are we doing?” He asks, trying to focus on the conversation as you take him back in your throat. You hum a little, and he tugs on the strands of your hair again in warning.

You pull off of him, gently stroking your hand up and down, squeezing as you go. “Practicing, of course.”

He lets his arms fall out beside him, collapsing against the pillows and dragging his hands over his eyes. “Almaznyy,” he huffs, hips stuttering when you squeeze him at the base.

“Hmm?” You hum, ready to take him in your mouth again, but Andrei moves quickly, hauling you up his body and cradling you close as he flips you over again. He positions you among the pillows, placing one under your waist so you’re practically propped up for him. He positions himself so his arms rest in the crook of your knees, your ankles near his head as he folds his body over yours.

He takes his cock in his hand, running the head through your folds. “Practice?” 

You nod, “Practice, for now.” You reach out, pushing his hand out of the way so you can line his cock up with your entrance. “Which is why the desk was perfectly good, and-”

The rest of your words are stolen from you when Andrei bats your hand away gently and slides inside of you, slow but precise, bottoming out and nestling his body close to yours. Your eyes flutter shut when you squeeze around him, and his hands come up, cradling the sides of your face as he murmurs encouraging words to you, staying still until you’ve adjusted to his size.

“Almaznyy,” he calls, and your eyes blink open, glazed over and hazy and you’ve barely even started. “Good?”

You nod, tilting your hips a little, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. He laughs a little, shaking his head. “So damn impatient.” 

He raises his body off of yours a little, angling his hips and setting a steady pace, one that has you whining in protest almost immediately, grabbing at the muscles of his ass and trying to drag him closer.

“I won’t break Andrei-” you start, but he cuts you off with a particularly hard thrust that has your eyes rolling back into your head.

“I don’t care if it’s just practice, almaznyy.” He tells you, “and I don’t care how many times we have to practice. I’m going to make it last, and I’m going to make sure that you remember all the ways I fuck you and make love to you until I put a baby in you.”

You gasp a little, and Andrei smiles to himself, thoroughly pleased. He sits up, placing his hands on the backs of your thighs and settling in to fuck you just the way you like. He fucks you in deep, strong strokes, the head of his cock brushing up against that sensitive spot in your pussy every single time.

It steals your breath from you, and all the telltale signs of an orgasm approaching signal to Andrei like a beacon. The way your breathing catches in your throat, the way you can’t keep your eyes open, how your legs start to shake.

He takes his thumb and rests it on your clit, rubbing in lazy circles until your back arches off the bed, a satisfied cry echoing out of your throat and into the pillows beside your head when you come. Your pussy squeezes down in a way that makes Andrei’s head go dizzy, and then he’s coming with a groan, pushing your hips down onto him as he buries himself to the hilt, his orgasm sudden and a shock to his system.

It takes him a second to catch his breath, and moves your legs off of his shoulders to make it easier to pull out of you and give you reprieve, but a noise of protest leaves your throat, and your ankles lock at the base of his spine. 

He pauses, glancing at you curiously when he notices the look on your face.

Andrei thinks back to before you left for San Jose, the day he took you in the shower, and how upset you’d been when he set you down on your feet.

It clicks in his head, then. What you’d been upset about.

He’s still hard - he’s practically always hard when he’s around you - so he moves his hips, slowly pulling back an inch before pushing back inside. You throw your head back, his name leaving your lips in relief, and he smirks. 

Fucking you in shallow thrusts, thumb circling your clit, Andrei watches in fascination as he pushes his come back inside of you with his cock, watches the way your pretty face twists in pleasure, and hums satisfactorily to himself. 

“Is this what you’ve been needing, moya zhena?” He asks, eyes on yours the whole time. “How long have you wanted this?”

You can barely answer him, your head thrown back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowed, back still arched and pushing those beautiful tits of yours up. Andrei takes them in his hands, massaging them, and you keen, pushing into his hands and pussy trying to retreat from his cock with nowhere to go.

The sensation feels different for him. He’s hypersensitive now, all too away of the slick slide of his cock, of your mixed come leaking out of you before he pushes back in, feels heat begin to prick at his skin when your pussy continues to flutter and squeeze, like it’s trying to keep him inside of you. With every brush of his finger over your nipples, your pussy squeezes and you try to pull off of him, but in the next breath you’re winding your hips, pushing back down until he’s buried to the hilt.

Andrei pushes your legs up again before he rests his weight on you gently, his shoulders under your knees, burying his face in your neck and placing his hands under your ass, cradling you closer to him as he starts to fuck you in deeper strokes, drowning in the pleased little noises leaving your lips.

“Ty chuvstvuyesh' sebya tak khorosho, dorogaya,” he murmurs against your neck. You feel so good, darling. 

“Andrei,” you finally manage to breathe out, and relief floods through his veins. There were times when you two made love that you got so lost in the pleasure that you couldn’t speak to him, and it worried Andrei to no end. But you always came back to him, always called for him, and the same calm washes over his body, a shiver running up his spine.

Your arms come up, wrapping around his neck and arching your back, giving him more access to you. Andrei hums, pleased, sucking a bruise into your skin while his cock starts to throb from where he’s fucking you, can feel a second orgasm creeping up when he bites down gently, raking his teeth over the sensitive skin and you start to squeeze and clench around him.

“Gonna come again, almaznyy?” He asks, nosing along your jaw. “Want me to come again, too?”

You nod, turning your head and Andrei meets you, slotting your lips together and swallowing your moans down when you shake gently beneath him, back arching and pushing your body closer to his. His eyes squeeze shut, electricity zipping up his spine when your orgasm tips him over the edge and he’s spilling into you again, groaning against your jaw.

His arms come out from under you and he gently eases your legs back down against the bed, massaging the muscles as he does. Instead of resting them against the bed though, you wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles at his lower back, and Andrei laughs. 

Gently, he rolls you both until he’s laying underneath you instead, careful to keep himself nestled inside of you, and he smiles to himself when you do a half cat-like stretch before sprawling across his chest. 

A pleased little exhale greets his ears after a moment, and his hand comes up, rubbing gentle circles in your back. “Made you lunch,” you tell him, voice hoarse. “‘S in the kitchen.”

“Spasibo, almaznyy.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We should go eat it then, it’s probably cold by now.”

“It’s the chicken caesar salad wraps you like.” You say, lips dragging across his chest as you speak. “And I made strawberry lemonade this morning, should be ready by now.”

He nods, tapping your flank gently. “We should get up, malyshka. Get cleaned up.”

You nod, but you’ve got that look in your eye like before, like you’re disappointed as you carefully lift yourself off of him and roll onto the mattress beside him. Andrei rolls onto his side, cradling your face in his hands. “What’s wrong, moya zhena?” 

You shake your head, a small smile gracing your lips. “Nothing’s wrong, just…excited, is all.”

“Excited?”

“To start a family with you,” you clarify. 

“Then why do you look so sad?” He wonders, thumbing at the pout in your bottom lip.

You laugh, nose scrunching a little before cuddling into him. “It’s silly - I just wanted to start now.”

“It’s only a month, right?” He asks. You nod, nose rubbing at his pec, and he smiles to himself. “That’s good - plenty of time for us to practice, then? Wanna make sure we get it right on the first try.”

You snort. “Perfektsionist.” Perfectionist.

“Only the best for you, moya zhena.” Andrei says, teasing. Underneath it though, you both know that he’s serious. Because if anything, even as he rises from the bed and lifts you in his arms, carrying you into the bathroom, you know he never does anything half assed. 

Now that you’re both on the same page, he’s going to do everything he can to ensure you’re well looked after from beginning to end, and when your little baby eventually comes, he’s going to work twice as hard to make sure the both of you are taken care of, and that you’ll want for nothing.

You, his almaznyy, and your future child, his malen'kaya rubin. His little ruby.