#and walking around for a little bit. before turning around and going back in the labyrinth

[that-one-girl2020]

Role Reversal Pt. 4

Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader

A/N: Oh my gosh, this one was a doozy. The reader and the boys’ personalities are just the slightest bit different from them in the original series because they have different experiences now. So Jum is less curious and childlike and the reader is more proactive in getting to know them instead of the other way around. Also, I promise I see all of your guys’ requests, even the ones in comments, I read all the comments. I just take time to get to each one depending on my inspiration, I have like fifty requests sitting in my inbox right now and I will try my best to get to each of them.

Synopsis: With Gwi Ma’s orders hanging over your head and the girls not being much help, you take your own steps to get to know the boys on your own.

CW: Low self esteem, insecurity, suicidal ideation (?), violence, bug eating (yes, you eat a bug), swearing/cursing.

Word Count: 6.1k

<< Part 3 || Master List

(Reminder: Baby = Jum, Romance = Chungae, Mystery = Hyeon, Abby = Kwan)

The competition began. The two idol groups clashed fiercely, promoting their music and performing with a ferocity that would be more apt for a gladiator ring and not what was viewed in the industry as friendly rivalry.

Not long after you had met with Jinu and Jum, the other girls made their own reluctant moves. Your sister sent Jinu a note to meet—when she came back she seemed more thoughtful but when asked, she said that she felt like she would have a hard time dealing with Jinu. Mira, in her own passive aggressive way, ambushed Abby and Romance which led to a two hour long chase through the city where she cackled and taunted the boys. She had fun, but it didn’t seem very productive. Zoey had crashed into Mystery’s room—not literally—and bombarded the man with nail polish, random movies she had grabbed at the store, and a desire to know all the gossip that he knew. Also not very productive.

The girls spent more time with each other than working on their mission so you decided to broaden your task.

Before the end of the week, you had Arson and Sprite tailing the boys, keeping watch on them. So when they told you that one of the boys had left the Tower on their own, you jumped at the opportunity.

You teleported into an alley and easily slipped into the crowd of people on the sidewalk, walking beside the quiet man. Ever the observant one, he didn’t even need to turn his head to notice you there.

”Jinu and Jum have been acting weird.”

”Who?” You asked before really thinking about it.

“Baby. They’ve been off since the bathhouse. What’d you guys do?” Mystery asked you bluntly.

“Why didn’t you ask Zoey?” You dodged the topic, stuffing your hands in your pockets casually. It seemed like the two men hadn’t told the others about what had happened or about their meetup with you. Interesting. The boys didn’t fully trust each other, it seemed.

Mystery’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile, “She was a little too energetic. Couldn’t get a word in edgewise before one of the guys came to ask what all the noise was about.”

You nodded, a hesitantly fond smile pulling at your lips, “Yeah, sounds like her.” The two of you walked along quietly for a few more minutes. You found it surprisingly peaceful. The people around you were just going about their own days and the sun was shining down and warming your skin. It was nice.

Hyeon glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. It was a little jarring to see you in casual clothes since he had really only seen you in your idol persona. Especially since the scars he had thought you and your sister had been hiding with makeup were actually demon patterns glamoured to look like faint scarring.

Hyeon didn’ t know that you and Rumi were actually unable to fully conceal your patterns with demonic means, even now. Gwi Ma’s idea of a joke since you both had tried so hard to run from them in the past.

“Can I ask?” You spoke, shaking you and him from your thoughts. “What’s with the stagenames?”

Mystery turned his head to look at you, not that you could tell. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know, they just feel a little… off?”

Mystery turned his head to look forward again after watching you for a long moment. “They give us personas, safety nets when we’re performing or interacting with fans. At least, that’s what the company told us. Some of us picked our names and some of us didn’t.” You nodded at his answer, mulling the information over in your head and trying to guess which of the guys chose their names and who didn’t.

“Why don’t you guys have stage names?” Mystery asked curiously.

“I’m not sure,” You shrugged again, rolling your head back to look at the sky thoughtfully. But then you almost tripped over your own feet so you looked straight again. “The girls didn’t want one so I didn’t either. They’re trying to be more human, I guess.”

Mystery hummed for a moment. The two of you fell into a peaceful silence again. You paused when he turned into a building with dark lights inside, “What is this place?” You asked curiously, looking around at the game boxes and flashing lights curiously.

“Arcade,” Mystery answered simply and you followed behind him. “I come here to destress and get out of my head when I’m thinking too much.”

“Oh,” was all you said. Your head was turning this way and that as you tried to take in everything around you.

“Jum sometimes comes too, but he usually prefers pc and console games.”

You nodded, pretending like you knew what any of that meant. You were surprised when he handed you a plastic card full of prepaid tokens. You weren’t sure what to do with it so you just followed him.

It was surprisingly fun once you got the hang of it all. You won yourself a cute keychain from a claw thing. You didn’t win against Mystery though, not during any of the games he showed you. He let you pull him curiously into a Photo Booth, letting you choose the border and the effects. Though you weren’t sure, but he might have growled at some guy who was staring for longer than you felt comfortable with.

Hyeon didn’t know what to make of you. He couldn’t help but find it endearing how you looked at everything in the arcade with open curiosity and how you smiled unrestrained when you were focused on a game. Even when you pouted, sulking when you lost, he should’ve felt nothing for you, a demon, but his heart was light with you.

By the time your tokens ran out—after the second time he refilled your cards—it was late and the two of you had called it a day. Before the two of you parted, you held out the keychain you had worked hard to get from the claw game, “Here.” He held out his hand and you dropped it, giving it to him as he blinked down at the keychain. “Thanks for today, Mystery.”

“Hyeon.”

You tilted your head in surprise that he had given you his actual name. It wasn’t like their actual names were secret, they were online and on their biographies. But you and the girls stubbornly called them by their stagenames as a reminder that this was a mission and they were just targets. However, if Mystery was insisting you call him by his actual name, that meant you were getting closer to him, like you were supposed to, right? It…made you feel…warm.

You smiled, “Thanks Hyeon.” You teleported away.

Hyeon lingered, watching the spot you had just disappeared from for a moment longer. Somehow, he found himself missing your presence. Your perfume lingered in his senses. He looked down at the keychain again before carefully tucking it away in his pocket.

Maybe he would try and find what perfume it was that you were wearing. Just to have around…

~~~

Your time with Mystery—Hyeon, went surprisingly well, in your opinion. Though, there was tension when at an award ceremony, Huntr/x was awarded the most listened to of the week thanks to the climbing popularity of ‘The Baddest.’ Plenty of demonic charm helped with your growing popularity as well.

Your next chance to become closer with the boys came just after the award ceremony. Sprite was covering for you with the girls by making an illusion of you sleeping in your room. Abby—according to Arson, your precious baby boy—had left the Tower on his own to get some air since he was so frustrated at losing to you girls that day.

The man was heading towards the river to clear his head and you teleported ahead, sitting on the edge of the river with your legs dangling over the water. It was a peaceful place. Especially at night when there weren’t a whole lot of people around. Looking out, the city lights reflected off of the water like a wobbly reflection of the night sky.

You heard footsteps approaching you and looked up, locking eyes with the startled Abby. Neither of you said anything. Honestly, you hadn’t really thought this through.

Abby grit his teeth and suddenly leapt at you, summoning his battle axe while you scrambled to dodge the brutal strike with a yelp. You took off running down the sidewalk. “WHAT DID I DO?!” You shrieked. You weren’t Mira. You didn’t enjoy running for your life as men with rainbow star weapons chased you.

Kwan continued chasing you, his teeth grit and his muscles flexing as he pumped his legs as hard as he could. He was sick of these demon girls putting their fans in danger and keeping them from sealing the Honmoon. The pink haired demon girl had been annoying enough when she had led him and Chungae on a chase through the city, mocking them the whole time. “You existed!”

You groaned, your mouth running before you could really think about it, “Ugh, you’re just like my fucking Aunt!”

Abby came to a screeching halt, completely thrown off by what you had just blurted out. He almost fell over with how hard he braked but he was able to catch himself. “Wait a fucking minute, you have an aunt? Demons have families?” He questioned incredulously.

You also slid to a halt, turning to look at him but still ready to run if you had to. “Uhm, yeah? Obviously. Rumi is my sister, you know. Did you seriously think we didn’t?” You couldn’t help but deadpan at him a bit. Hunters really didn’t know anything about demons besides how to kill them.

“No,” Abby shook his head, denying it like it was obvious to assume that living creatures had no other relatives or familial relations of any kind. “I thought it was just a ruse. How do you have an aunt?”

This time you really did deadpan at him. “Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much—“

Abby snarled, cutting you off, “You know that’s not what I meant!” Abby took a deep breath, settling his temper so he could get the answers that he wanted. “Demons don’t have families,” He said stubbornly.

You shook your head, “Most demons come from human souls in one way or another. It’s just a matter of if they remember their human lives.”

Abby made a skeptical face, his grip on his weapon never wavering for a second. “And you do?”

You nodded, re-explaining what you had already told Jinu and Baby. “Three types of demons: first, the kind that are created from the souls Gwi Ma consumes are more inhuman because they don’t remember their human lives. Second, the kind that are born to two demons, they don’t know anything else besides the demon realm. And finally, the kind of demon that humans are turned into after they make a deal with Gwi Ma out of desire or desperation.”

Abby scoffed, intuitively knowing which one you and the other three girls were. The four of you were able to mimic human emotions much better than the other demons the boys had killed. “So what? You made a deal with Gwi Ma for fame? Power?”

Your face fell flat. You didn’t want to talk about it. It still hurt. But it wouldn’t hurt for much longer as long as you fulfilled your mission. “Love, actually,” you answered stoically.

Abby actually did falter, his axe lowering just the slightest bit before he steeled himself and lifted his axe back to aim at you. “You were so desperate for love that you asked the demon king to make someone love you? What? A guy didn’t love you back or something?”

You frowned at Abby’s intentionally cruel words, snapping back at him, “Nobody loved me! Just because I was born different, because I didn’t look how they wanted, nobody loved me.” You looked away from him, a stupid move to make as he still had his weapon. But the old bitter memories choked your throat and left you aching and vulnerable in a way that made it feel like you couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t see his reaction to how pitiful you were.

Meanwhile, Kwan slowly lowered his axe, letting it fade away. It was too familiar. It brought to the surface his own memories that he did his best to keep out of thought, reasoning that it was in the past and didn’t matter anymore. But it still did.

When he was younger, he was the outcast no matter where he went. After he lost his parents when he was young he was put into foster care. All the other kids always avoided him due to his taller height, bigger frame, and frightening features. As he got older, it got worse. Even adults started avoiding him, labeling him a violent delinquent just because of how he looked and how quiet he was. Dance had been his only reprieve.

So he got it.

Quietly, he spoke, “Sorry…” He didn’t know where to look or what to do now. At that moment, you were just a girl that he could relate to.

You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I…” Abby sighed, clenching and clenching his fists, frustrated at himself. “I do get it.”

He didn’t say any more about the matter. So you simply nodded slowly, “Okay.”

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” Abby blurted out and you could see panic flash through his eyes. He was cursing his own impulsivity. But you chuckled and nodded, “Sure. Anywhere in mind?”

He nodded, “Yeah, c’mon.” He gestured with his head and you slowly joined his side, the two of you walking together, quietly to wherever Abby had in mind for food—his own small peace offering after saying things he did.

You guys ended up at a street market. It seemed like he came there often as he talked to the elderly stall owners as familiarly as one would with their own grandparents. The two of you had a few different dishes like chicken skewers and tteokbokki. You grimaced when he stopped to get a cup of beondegi. Silkworm pupae.

He noticed your look and held them out to you, chuckling when you stepped back, “What? Never had them before?”

You just eyed them skeptically, “They came way after my time.”

Abby snorted, “Okay, grandma. Here, just try it once.” You whined unsurely but he merely held it out closer to you. “Come on, granny, just one.”

You slowly took one in your fingers, eyeing it with a grimace. Finally, you bit the bullet—or, well, bug—and popped it in your mouth, biting down. You flinched slightly when all the juices came out but then you actually tasted it and calmed down. You hummed.

“And?” Abby asked curiously. “How is it?”

You swallowed. “Not bad. Kind of nutty. But I’m not eating it again.”

Abby shrugged, “Fair enough. At least you tried it.”

The two of you continued on, eating different foods. Whatever you didn’t finish went to his never ending appetite, which was slightly disturbing to see. Eventually, you both were full and had to part ways or else your groups would come looking for you. That is, if the girls realized it was just Sprite back at the apartment.

“Thanks,” You told him softly, not looking directly at him. “For giving me a chance, Abby.”

He didn’t respond for a moment so you started walking away. But then his voice stopped you. “Call me Kwan.” You turned to look back at him in surprise but he put on an air of nonchalance, like it wasn’t that big of a deal. “Don’t think this means we’ll go easy on you. We’re still gonna crush you and those other three at the next awards.”

You chuckled, “Sure, Kwan. See ya,” you waved and walked off to find a good spot to teleport from.

Kwan watched you go, conflicted. It was weird how normal and…understood he felt with you. Maybe it was because you both had similar experiences with your appearances. But he didn’t know why nobody would love you, you were beautiful. You must have been gorgeous before your demon patterns.

~~~

Things were going well for you. Almost frighteningly so.

You had made close contact with four out of five of the boys. Well… Jinu and Baby had come to your meetup and hadn’t tried to kill you. You hadn’t really done any actual bonding like you did with Hyeon and Kwan. You might have to do some one on one interactions…

Anyway, you were at least glad that you were able to turn Kwan trying to kill you into him empathizing with you and getting food together. The girls were working on another song to release in case their one song wouldn’t get them high enough on the charts. You also made some progress with your own ideas when you had free time.

But today, Sprite had let you know that the other male pinkette had ventured outside of the Tower on his own. So you changed out of your practice clothes and teleported over. Said male was at the park, breathing in the fresh air and people watching. While also sitting on the most picturesque bench in the whole park since it was surrounded by flowers and shaded trees.

So, you picked a flower and made your way over from behind, leaning your arms on the bench while he was too distracted to notice you. You poked his cheek with the flower and he practically jumped a mile into the air, ending up on the other end of the bench.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, “Hey.”

Chungae looked at you with wide eyes, his gaze darting from the civilians around the park and then to you. You were here. Why were you here. With a flower. He wanted to summon his fans—his weapons fans, not his fanatic fans—to kill you before you became a bigger problem than you already were but he couldn’t do it out in public like this.

“What’re you doing here?!” Romance hissed as you rounded the bench to sit on the opposite end from him.

“Getting some air,” You shrugged your shoulders, fiddling with the stem of the flower.

He narrowed his eyes at you dubiously, “Y’know, you can get in trouble for picking the flowers here.”

You eyed him, “Really? And who’s gonna yell at me?”

Romance deadpanned at you. Then he nudged his head to the side, “They will.” You turned your head to look and, sure enough, there were some park workers walking down the sidewalk.

Your eyes widened and you cursed, “Here, you take it!” You shoved the flower into his hands. “Happy birthday!” You spat out the first words that came to mind, ready to run so you could avoid getting in trouble.

Romance blanched, pushing it back towards you, “Birthday? It’s not my birthday! Take back your felony!” He hissed at you.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” You gritted at him, pushing the flower back towards him.

“It’s not Valentine’s Day!”

“Well, just take it!”

“No!”

The two of you froze a little comically when the park workers walked past the two of you. They were chuckling but they didn’t give the two of you a second glance. When neither of you faced the wrath of the workers, you both sighed a breath of relief, Romance actually taking the flower, “Well, in that case, thanks for the flower, darling.”

You snorted, “No problem, handsome,” You cooed in return jokingly.

You weren’t prepared for the man to blush, looking away shyly to cough into his fist.

Chungae quickly changed the subject, stiffening as he reminded himself that you were a demon that wanted to suck the souls of his fans. “What’re you doing here, again?”

You leaned back against the bench. “I told you, I wanted some air,” You repeated yourself.

“Right,” Romance drawled, looking at you suspiciously. “And I’m here to slaughter children.”

You gasped dramatically, looking at him scandalized, “You are? And here I thought you were this morally upright demon hunter!”

Romance couldn’t help but snort at your dramatics. “It’s called sarcasm, darling. I’m people watching.”

The both of you turned to look around. You looked at the people going about their days, peaceful and content for the most part. “Why? What’s so interesting about it?” You asked.

It’s not that you didn’t people watch either. But you did it because you wanted what normal humans had. Love, happiness, acceptance, safety, comfort. Take your pick, you wanted at least a sliver of one of them. You were curious why the man did it though.

Romance was quiet for a moment, thoughtful. “They have something I don’t,” was all he responded with.

And you could understand that.

You merely hummed in understanding, the two of you sitting in silence for a while as you both watched the people around you. There was a woman on the swings with a baby in her lap. Some girls were having a picnic, taking pictures and giggling over their phones. An elderly couple was shuffling down the sidewalk arm in arm. A married couple was sitting at a table with their kid.

Chungae was uncertain about you. He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. You were just quietly sitting there, watching people go by about their days. There wasn’t a glimmer of demonic plotting in your eyes, you were just watching… He wasn’t sure what, but there was something about you that he recognized in himself. He should’ve hated it, hated that he could see a part of himself in you, a demon. But, he couldn’t. Because it was a part of him that was still a child on the inside.

“Why are you doing this?” Romance broke the quiet between you.

You didn’t look at him, your eyes on two little girls running through the trees. “I have my reasons.”

He scoffed, “That’s not an answer.”

“It is, it’s just not the one you wanted.”

Romance huffed, the two of you falling into silence again. Despite the slight tension between you, it wasn’t a stifling silence. It was just thoughtful.

You sighed, reminding yourself that in order to succeed you had to have some semblance of vulnerability. “Gwi Ma said he would get rid of a certain memory if I do this.”

Romance turned his head to look at you in surprise. “A memory?” He echoed questioningly.

“From my human life. Before I was a demon,” You explained to him. It was just another point in your theory that the boys didn’t communicate with each other very well. “Not all demons were demons forever. A lot of us still remember our human lives.”

“And…” Romance drawled unsurely, “What’s the memory you want gone?”

You answered vaguely, “Somebody I thought loved me betrayed me.” Everyone you thought loved you ended up betraying you.

“Oh,” Romance answered dumbly. “Well, then it wasn’t real love.”

You looked at him, furrowing your eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“Love isn’t like that. If someone really loves you, then they would never betray you,” Romance explained.

Chungae hoped he sounded sure in his words because he absolutely was not. How could he when he had no idea what love was like? He didn’t remember familial love, friendly love, and he had never experienced romantic love. He was just using his own flawed fantasies and media he had consumed as his expectations for love. That was all he could do.

You weren’t aware of his thoughts as you took his words in. They were comforting, in their own way. You felt validated in your anger and frustration but the hurt was still there. It was okay though. The hurt would go away soon, you reminded yourself.

For now, you simply smiled at the pink haired man, “Thanks Romance.”

“Chungae,” He found himself correcting you. He was surprised at himself but he didn’t take it back, “Call me Chungae.”

Your smile became more genuine, “Thanks Chungae.”

The two of you turned back to watch the people in the park around you. You two were still enemies, but right now? You two were comfortable in the soft space that had formed around you.

~~~

You decided that you should try and get some one on one time with Jinu and Baby.

But it seemed like the two didn’t leave the Tower often—on their own or otherwise. So you would have to have them come to you or you would have to go to them. Your choice was made when Arson left Sprite alone.

You followed Arson to the Tower and teleported up to the balcony. Sprite’s eyes were glowing faintly, a sign that he was using his illusion powers. “What’re you doing?” You muttered to the bird quietly. Sprite merely made his little ko-aw noise. So you peeked through the glass to see what the mischievous little bird was doing and slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from bursting into laughter.

Jinu was standing on top of a chair in the middle of his room, swinging a pillow pathetically at the floor every now and then before instantly regretting it and going back to using it as a shield. On the floor, maybe a dozen or two dozen spiders were crawling along the floor. They weren’t that big, maybe an inch or so big, but they were black and fuzzy with little pincers. One stopped at the base of the chair, looking up at the man. The two stared at each other for a moment, Jinu’s eyes wide and his pupils shrunk. Then the little spider hissed and Jinu jumped, shrieking.

You snorted, sliding the balcony door open easily, “Okay, Sprite, that’s enough. Don’t want to make too much of a ruckus." Jinu’s head whipped around to you as Sprite made a rattling noise that kind of sounded like a laugh before all the spiders faded out of existence. After a moment, you spoke again, “Y’know, you should lock your balcony. Never know who might just come in.”

Jinu still didn’t say anything.

“Nice pants.”

Jinu looked down, his face turning red when he remembered that he was wearing his custom Derpy and Sussie lounge pants that had little hearts and hats around their chibi figures. He tried to scramble down from the chair, “What’re you—“

You winced when he tripped and tumbled from atop the chair as the desk chair with wheels rolled while he was trying to get down. “…Are you okay…?”

He continued to lay face down on his carpet. “…Yeah.” After he took a deep breath, Jinu pushed himself up and looked at her. “What are you doing here?”

You nodded to where Arson was sitting at the bottom of Derpy’s cat tower, the two animals in a strange staring contest. “Arson came to get me when Sprite started his mischief. Sorry about that, by the way.”

Jinu shook his head, habitually answering, “It’s fine.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. He had never had a girl in his space like this before. He wasn’t sure if you being a demon made it better or worse.

You pursed your lips awkwardly and wandered further into his room, “So… what’cha doing?”

Jinu stuttered, darting to his desk to shove some papers in a drawer. For some reason, he didn’t want you to see the draft of lyrics for the Saja Boys’ new song. And not because he didn’t want to ruin the surprise of the diss track. But because he…didn’t want you to see the hateful lyrics. “Nothing. Just, uh…just working on some songs.”

The two of you froze when there was a knock on his door. “Jinu? You alright in there?” Kwan’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.

“Hide!” Jinu hissed at you, grabbing Arson and shoving the two of you into his closet where all his casual clothes were kept. He slammed the door behind you and you heard him open the door, greeting his member.

You were a little frazzled, turning the flashlight on your phone on so you could see where Jinu had shoved you. You stopped when your light shined on a bookshelf against the wall across from you. It was full of containers. Full of tiny hats.

Meanwhile, Jinu was trying to smile normally at his fellow group member, “Hey, Kwan, what’s up?”

Kwan dubiously lifted a brow at his leader’s shifty behavior. “I heard you screaming like a girl.”

Jinu flushed at the reminder, “I saw a spider…” He admitted quietly.

Kwan snorted, teasingly pushing at his shoulder, “Dude, seriously?”

“It was big!” Jinu defended himself, “And I was working on the song so I didn’t notice it until it was two inches from me!”

Kwan just shook his head in amusement, “Do you need me to get it for you?”

“Nah, Derpy ate it,” Jinu fibbed. The two boys grimaced at the mental image of the cat eating a spider.

“Okay, well I’m heading to bed,” Kwan dismissed himself.

“Kay, night man,” Jinu waved him off.

“Night.”

Jinu shut the door with a sigh of relief, leaning his head against the door as he took a second to calm down. Then he went to the closet to let you out, only to pause when he opened the door. You were sitting on the ground with one of the containers from his shelf next to you, your phone flashing as you took Arson’s picture. The demonic canine was wearing one of Derpy’s crochet mushroom hats. It was too small for the dog but it was still absolutely adorable. Your delighted giggles were quiet and your smile was illuminated by the light of your phone screen.

It was endearing. Cute. Adorable even—and he didn’t mean Arson.

Jinu couldn’t help but smirk fondly and cross his arms, leaning against the doorframe, “Having fun?”

You nodded without looking at him, switching hats so you could take more pictures of Arson, “Yup.”

Jinu chuckled and shook his head, “Come on, you should go before one of the guys catches you here.” He ignored your little whine and pouty lips as he put the hats away and slid the container back into place on his shelf.

Despite your whining, you still stood with a little huff, “Fine. But I will be back for more tiny hats.”

“Sure,” Jinu agreed easily enough and walked you to the balcony, scratching Arson’s head in goodbye.

“Bye Jinu,” You waved with a smile.

He waved back, “Bye (Y/n).” Jinu watched you teleport away and Arson leapt from the balcony, Sprite flying off as well. He slid the balcony closed slowly, pulling the curtains shut once he did.

It was strange how normal he felt with you. His whole life revolved around hunting demons, sealing the Honmoon, and being an idol. But, with you he somehow felt like just another guy.

Sussie chirped and he looked at the bird. Sussie gave him a judging look.

“What?”

Sussie sighed.

~~~

The next time the awards rolled around, the Saja Boys ended up winning as most listened to that week thanks to their new song, ‘Stay Gold.’ As they were given flowers, the four of you clapped with smiles while the boys looked at you smugly. You girls remained unbothered though.

You finally got your chance to talk with the maknae of the boy group when the man left the Tower on his own for once and made his way into the city in disguise. He ducked into a grocery store and you followed him in, the maknae making a B-line straight to the snack and candy aisle.

You wandered past him casually, looking at all the different candies and snacks that you had no idea what they were. You grabbed a bag of rosé topokki chips. He was looking at spicy candies. “Those can’t be good,” You couldn’t help but remark.

Baby looked at you, surprised at your presence. But then he shrugged and went back to deliberating spicy candies. “I like it.”

You shrugged as well, going back to looking at the shelf full of candy for something sweet next. “To each their own.”

The two of you stood there, quietly for a long moment. You kept glancing at each other. “Any recommendations for something sweet but simple?” You eventually asked him, lost in all the flavors and brands.

He sighed like you asked him to do the most difficult thing in the world. He scanned over the options for a second before grabbing some chocolate, “Here.” He tossed it to you and you barely caught it, your heart stuttering at the sudden panic that you would drop it. He chuckled and finally made his own choice, putting one of the bags of candy back. He grabbed a drink, pointedly avoiding the Saja Boys themed soda just in the other cooler. The two of you quietly went to check out.

Jum didn’t have a lot of thoughts about you. You were very human but some moments reminded him that you were a demon. Like, struggling to choose what to get out of a sea of modern flavors. But he couldn’t get that look out of his head. When you had given up fighting them at the bathhouse or when he had asked you why you gave up when you asked them to meet you.

The two of you found a quiet spot to eat your snacks. He chuckled when he heard you hum when you first tried your chocolate. It seemed like you liked it. “We’re writing a song,” He found himself blurting out. “About demons.”

“Oh,” was all you could respond with, chewing slower. “Can’t imagine it’s a very nice song.”

Baby snorted, “It’s not. I can’t say I’m very happy about it.”

You looked over at him in surprise, “Why not?” You asked curiously.

He shrugged, “I worked hard on ‘Stay gold,’ we all did. It’s a song meant to bring us closer together and to our fans but…” he trailed off, shrugging again. “And I work hard on my rapping, our lyrics and a lot of it gets censored or shut down by production because it doesn’t ’fit the image.’” Baby rolled his eyes, citing words it seemed like he had heard a million times over. “The trainers’ idea.”

“I get it,” You told him. He turned his head to look at you dubiously, “I do. I understand some of how you feel. You gotta play a part, a role you don’t like or really fit but you still have to play it.”

Baby was quiet for a moment, just looking at you. Observing and analyzing your expression for a sign that you were lying. But you weren’t. So he nodded, “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Can I call you Jum…?” You slowly asked him, fidgeting with the wrapper in your hands. With the other guys, they had given their names to use, but with Baby, after what he had just told you, it didn’t feel right to refer to him as the role he didn’t like to play.

His lips twitched up into a smile, “Yeah. Just when we’re alone though.”

You jokingly rolled your eyes, “Obviously.”

He snorted fondly, “Obviously.”

The two of you continued to eat your snacks contently.

~~~

That night, you ended up staring up at the ceiling above your bed for a long while, mindlessly running your fingers through Arson’s fur.

You were doing good. You were getting closer to the boys like you had been told to do. You were one step closer to finishing this and forgetting all the memories that still gripped your heart like barbed wire. But… there was a growing sense of wrongness.

It was hard to hear yourself think over the quiet hiss of old memories and whispers of Gwi Ma’s voice. However, with the boys, the volume became quieter, duller and easier to ignore somehow.

You felt like you were going crazy.

You couldn’t let your mind linger on them like this, not when the next step of the girls’ plan was coming up. The Saja Boys were having their first fan event in a while soon and you all planned to crash it and take it over. You had to be ready to see all of them at once, to watch for the little cracks in their group so you could split them open when the time came.

You ignored the twisting in your chest.

A/N: When Kwan says that you must’ve looked gorgeous before your patterns, he’s not trying to be an asshole, he’s just thinking in the context that you must’ve grown up in where society wouldn’t have accepting any ‘deformities’ like the patterns. If that makes sense…?

Outtakes:

…

Bobby: “So what’ve you guys been up to lately?”

Hyeon: *Spending time with you*

Kwan: *Spending time with you*

Chungae: *Spending time with you*

Jinu: *Spending time with you*

Jum: *Spending time with you*

Saja Boys: …

Saja Boys: “Nothing much.” “Boring stuff.” “Gym.” “Sleeping.” “Song stuff.”

…

Zoey: “Hey, should we be doing our jobs and trying to get closer to the boys?”

You: *Emotionally conflicted, struggling, juggling five men*

Polytr/x: *cuddling on the couch watching romcoms*

Polytr/x: “Nah, it’s fine.”

…

Saja Boys: *side eyeing each other while contemplating sharing that they’ve been spending time with you but don’t want to admit they have for fear of being yelled at for not killing a demon*

You: *narrowing your eyes at the idiots* “Guys. Communication.”

…

Tag List: @jaybbygrl @aurorab-0-realis @minthoneynbasil @thatonegrimm @n0tbelle @reverie-sxno @gremlinartstudio @littlepotaaatosimp @mvskedxrtist @lluxentzz @closehereyes @lyunsafebubble @ashleygryffindor @whimsiecat @towfuu1 @thesimpbella @fries11 @lov3ly-3m @teenyfinds @arieslucy @boldlyenchantingfox22 @mel3484 @lizzymizzy-blogg @fastleopard1521 @cultish-corner @kitkatpattywack2808 @tsukimoon-chan @alleakimlala @yandereobsession @sherzzzzz @otherworldlover @hawarun @f1shst1xx @avadakadabra93 @moonthesleepyhead @sra7riddle-malfoy @beautifulpeoplebeautifulpr0blems @boo-shalala @venommie @magical-spit @neverending-animelove @nerdsconquerall @eli1412 @imjusthereforthecake @moochiwoochi @a-writer-with-anxiety @sexually-attracted-to-pans @katzline @uniquecutie-puffs @forgetfulsmols

[bbgsaja]

ℓσรƭ ɦα૨ɱσɳเεร (ɓαɓყ รαʝα א ƒ!ɦµɳƭε૨!૨εα∂ε૨)

summary - it's been months since you sealed the Honmoon, and it's been nice, peaceful, and...nope, the Saja Boys are chaotic little gremlins who really struggle with human concepts, games and technology warnings - none a/n - if you were on the previous tag list, please let me know if you still want to be tagged!

"Is it supposed to do that?!"

Up until that moment, you had been sleeping peacefully. Now your body jerked upwards, eyes still drooping, head snapping side to side. Baby wasn't in bed next to you, so you looked at the door.

"Put it out! Put it out!"

You looked at your alarm clock.

5:37 AM.

Sighing, you slowly dragged yourself out of bed, sliding your slippers on before making your way to the door. You emerged from the room to hear hushed whispers and panicked whisper-yells from the kitchen.

Nearby, the other sleep-riddled Huntrix girls were also coming out to see what the fuss was about. Together, the four of you walked into the kitchen.

Abby screamed, and hid behind Baby.

"Demons!" He pointed at the four of you.

Romance turned to look and jumped, letting out a sound between a yelp and a scream. He thrust Jinu forward before scrambling behind the island.

"Okay, what is going on?" You asked, rubbing your eyes tiredly. Then you looked at the other girls, and your eyes widened.

Simultaneously, all your hands shot up to fix your hair.

"We, uh, we tried making breakfast," Jinu admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. His cheeks flushed a light pink, and the other boys looked around like they suddenly found the lights interesting.

"At five in the morning?" Rumi groaned.

"Isn't that when you wake up?" Romance looked confused.

"No!" Mira groaned, face-palming. "No sane person wakes up at five to have breakfast!"

The toaster went off at that moment, Baby quickly sliding in front of it to hide the very burnt toast that emerged. Your eyes widened, because as much as he could hide the physical evidence, the smell was still there.

"Dare I ask what the eggs look like?" You sighed.

The eggs were burnt too. Yolk hard as rock, the white around it now an unsavoury shade of brown.

"Well that's...uh...sweet!" Zoey smiled, eyeing the eggs nervously.

Mystery approached her with a plate of eggs and a slice of black toast, holding it out to her. Nodding at the food, then looking up at her expectantly.

"Okay..." You looked at Baby, "Why didn't you just ask us?"

"Because Google is our best friend!" Abby replied confidently, his smile eerily wide for such an ungodly time in the morning.

Your jaw dropped, "You googled how to make eggs?"

"Well, Baby did," Jinu glared at your boyfriend, "And he is terrible at giving instructions."

"He gets distracted a lot?" You nodded, "Yep. Playing games in one half of his screen? I regret teaching him how to split it actually."

Baby walked up to you and pinched your waist, "You say that too much."

You swatted his hand away, "It's true most of the time."

"We wanted to surprise you," his voice dropped to a murmur as his arms snaked around your waist, his head dipping to bury itself in your neck.

"That's sweet," you smiled, wrapping your arms around him. "Come on, let's go back to bed. We'll clean that up in the morning."

"But it-"

"At a reasonable time in the morning."

You dragged him back to your room, curling up against him once more and going right back to sleep. He stayed awake for a moment, looking down at you.

You didn't eat the eggs, but you appreciated the gesture.

A few hours later, when everyone was awake and actually ready for the day, you guided Baby into the kitchen and turned on the stove.

"This is how you crack the egg-"

He growled playfully and bit your ear.

You laughed and threw the shell away, "You're not supposed to eat the shell, by the way."

"Don't tell Abby that," Baby grinned, "I told him it's extra protein."

"Why would you do that?" You laughed, shaking your head.

"It was funny."

Next you showed him how to fry the egg, and when to take it out. But when he reached for it with his bare hands, you almost had a heart attack.

"NO!" You slapped his hands away, "Not with your hands!"

He bit your ear in response.

"You'll get burned!" You grumbled, rubbing your ear.

"I like the burn," he said, looking dead serious.

"No, bad Baby!" You sprayed him with Mira's spray bottle for Romance and Abby, and he recoiled. "None of that here!"

Then you showed him how to use the toaster. How to put the bread slices in, what settings to use, and how to operate it.

He eventually got the hang of it.

Eventually.

Then it was the pool catastrophe.

You and the other Huntrix girls were relaxing in your pool on a day off, because it was hot and you needed to cool down. The Saja Boys stood around the pool on the edge, hissing at the water like it personally offended them.

Without opening your eyes, you sighed, "You guys can come in, you know. You won't melt."

"I don't like the way it moves," Abby shivered.

"What if it's not water?" Romance asked. "And you're just slowly cooking in there?"

You groaned, face-palming and sliding below the water's surface.

You heard Baby's cry from underwater, followed by a splash and rippling waves that made you stick your head out of the pool.

"What was that?"

"Baby pushed Abby in," Mira replied, her head still tilted back in relaxation. "Yelled at him to go and get you because you were drowning. Or something to that effect."

In the middle of the pool, Abby was letting out loud screeches that definitely did not fit his macho man appearance.

"It's burning me! It's- oh. It's actually nice."

Mystery was still hissing at the pool, "There's something down there." He stared ominously at the deepest end.

"What?!" You and Zoey shrieked.

"Mhm," Mystery nodded. "It's waiting."

Abby was now lying on his back, half-sinking and half-floating as he stared up at the sky. Jinu put one foot in and screamed, arms flailing as he fell backwards onto one of the reclining chairs.

"Why is it so cold?!"

So much was happening that you didn't notice Romance clinging to Baby as the latter slipped into the pool, calmly and slowly. They were the only two to not scream or splash or say something weird was lurking in the darkness.

Or so you thought...

"What was that?!" Romance cried, grabbing the pool edge and lifting his legs up. "Something touched my foot!"

Baby let out the most undignified screech you had ever heard from him and half-swam, half-drowned in your direction, "Probably Mystery's monster. It's gonna be a no from me. I'm not getting eaten today!"

He looked like an irritated, wet cat - glowing yellow eyes with slits, blue hair sticking to his skin as he paddled with his arms and let his legs just...hang.

"Baby, you're supposed to kick your legs too," you laughed.

When he tried it, he was surprised to see how much faster he moved. Then he got to you, wrapped himself around you and refused to let go as Romance used the edge of the pool to make his way to Mira - feet not touching the bottom once.

Rumi had to get out and actually pull Jinu into the pool, sighing when he almost drowned her by trying to climb on top of her, pushing her head underwater in the process.

Abby still floated around the pool like a life-sized demon floatie, and you weren't sure if he was still breathing. You were afraid to check.

Then Jinu sneezed, and the water vanished.

Baby quickly hovered and caught you before you could fall. Romance did the same for Mira. Mystery, still crouching on the edge, grabbed Zoey's wrist and prevented her fall.

"It's gone," he murmured.

Rumi's hair cushioned her fall, her eyes wide as she watched Jinu fall flat on his face. Abby slammed into the ground on his back so hard that he cracked the pool floor, his own eyes wide. He didn't even flinch.

Everyone looked at Jinu.

"What?" He got defensive, "The water was cold!"

"You're a literal demon," Mira deadpanned.

"Who isn't immune to extreme cold!"

"But it isn't even-" she stopped and took a deep breath.

"Okay, I think that's enough of the pool," Zoey suggested, "Maybe we should go inside and play some board games?"

That didn't go well either.

You tried to teach them how to play Monopoly, and it turned out to the biggest mistake of your lives. For one, the boys didn't even know that those countries and cities existed.

"Ha, ha," Abby laughed boisterously, "Rome, as if that was a place. It's just short for Romance!"

You face-palmed.

Then they tried to lay claim on certain places.

"This is the first round!" Rumi protested. "You can't claim anything during the first round!"

They relented.

Once the second round came, you and Mira, Rumi and Zoey didn't get a chance to buy anything. As soon as one of the boys landed on a place, they took it without a second thought.

Jinu's money pile remained suspiciously big.

Baby was growling at Abby, who was attempting to buy the place he landed on, though he didn't have enough. Baby wanted it too, so he laughed and picked up the dice.

"No, wait!" Abby stopped him, picking up a fifty from the bank. "Now I have enough!"

Mira was breathing in and out deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Baby promptly turned Abby's new fifty into ash.

"Hey! No demon magic!" Zoey scolded.

Mystery whimpered.

Baby and Abby gave each other dirty looks, before they both agreed not to buy that place. But the second Baby landed on it, he purchased it.

Abby jumped him like that had been a declaration of war.

"Jinu, that's cheating!" Rumi yelled, confiscating the money he was magically duplicating.

Mystery ate a piece, whether by accident or on purpose you weren't sure - and you didn't want to ask. You turned and buried your face in Baby's neck, laughing as the other girls tried to reign in their own boys.

Then your phone rang, and without breaking away from Baby, you picked it up and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hello," a deep, distinctly male voice drifted into your ear, "Is this (Name)?"

"Yes, who's asking?" Beside you, Baby tensed.

"An old friend," he responded, voice low and languid. "I'll see you soon." And then he hung up.

You dropped your phone.

Seven heads turned to you.

Baby instantly pulled you close to him, knowing his scent helped you calm down. You held onto his sweater, trying to stop the incoming dread that was going to consume you.

"(Name)?" Zoey called tentatively. "What's wrong?"

You just broke down crying.

"I'm sorry."

[mysticalcrowntyrant]

Could you write a story based on red riding hood? :)

Yandere “Wolf” x Reader

The market was loud, as always. Chickens squawked somewhere near the eastern gate, and a pot of stew boiled over beside the smithy’s wife, who was too busy shouting prices at passersby to notice. Woodsmoke hung thick in the air, clinging to your shawl as you picked through the day’s produce.

Your basket was half full when you felt it: a gaze. Not the fleeting sort people give in passing, not curiosity or judgment. No—this one was heavy. You didn’t need to look up to feel it settle on your shoulders.

You did anyway.

He was standing just beyond the barrel of apples. Tall. Broad. Leaning with one arm braced on the edge of a cart. He wore black, mostly—faded from travel and stained with dust—but the way he held himself said it wasn’t just for show. His hood was down, and pale hair stuck to his brow in loose, sweat-damp strands. His eyes were pale too. Not quite gray. Not quite blue. Something colder than either.

“Careful,” he said, nodding at the apple in your hand. “That one looks a bit too sweet. Might give someone ideas.”

You looked down at it. Then back at him. “It’s a fruit,” you said flatly. “I don’t think it’s giving anyone ideas.”

He grinned. “You’d be surprised, little fox.”

You turned away without answering. The basket bumped against your hip as you moved to the next vendor, ignoring the sound of boots crunching behind you.

“I saw you earlier,” he said, sidling up beside you. “Near the well. You were talking to that old woman with the herbs. Is she your grandmother?”

You didn’t answer.

“She’s got kind eyes,” he added. “You do too.”

You stopped to examine a jar of honey, pretending not to hear him. He kept pace, unbothered by the silence.

“You live nearby, then? Must be hard work, running errands like this. All alone.”

Still nothing.

“I like your shawl,” he tried next. “It suits you. Red’s a good color for you.”

You turned your head slightly. “Are you going to keep following me?”

His smile didn’t waver. “Not if you ask me nicely.”

“Fine. Stop following me.”

He chuckled, low and amused. “That wasn’t very nice.”

You started walking again, faster this time. But he was behind you before you could make it to the next stall.

“Mercenary work,” he said, gesturing to the worn sword at his hip. “That’s what I do. Nothing fancy. I don’t kill children or clergy, if that’s your concern. But I am good with my hands.”

You stopped. “That’s disgusting.”

He blinked. Then grinned again. “You misunderstand me, little fox.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why?” He tilted his head. “It suits you. Quick. Sharp-eyed. Always watching. You’re not as quiet as you think, you know.”

You stared at him. “And you’re not nearly as charming as you think.”

He laughed. A full, delighted sound, like you’d said the most wonderful thing he’d ever heard.

“You’ve got a tongue on you,” he said. “I like that.”

You turned from him again, mouth pressed into a tight line, and made your way toward the baker’s stall. The smell of warm bread rose thick in the air—brown crusted loaves and sweet knots of cinnamon on display behind a woven curtain of flies. You hoped it might put a wall between you and him. But he didn’t take the hint.

Of course he didn’t.

He followed like a shadow stitched to your heel, speaking just loud enough for you to hear over the hum of barter and bleating goats.

“I could buy you something,” he offered. “A tart, maybe. Or one of those little hand-pies. Something sweet for a sour face.”

You didn’t answer.

“A smile wouldn’t kill you,” he added after a beat, voice softening, as if coaxing a wild animal closer. “Though I’d be the first to admit, there’s something pretty about your scowl.”

You turned on your heel so fast your shawl flared. “Do you ever shut up?”

His brows lifted, mock-wounded. “I talk when I’m nervous.”

“Why would you be nervous?”

He stepped a little closer. Too close. The crowd buzzed and flowed around you, but in that moment, it was like no one else existed. Just the two of you and the thick, invisible cord of tension wound tighter than twine. His pale eyes flicked down, then slowly back up.

“Because I don’t want to say the wrong thing to the prettiest girl in the square,” he said with a smirk. “Might ruin my chances.”

Your lip curled. “You didn’t have a chance.”

He grinned, leaning in like he was about to whisper some awful secret. “You sure about that?”

That was it.

Without thinking, you reached into your basket, grabbed the nearest apple, and hurled it at him. It wasn’t a perfect throw, but it hit him square in the chest with a satisfying thud.

He froze, blinking in genuine surprise as the apple bounced off his ribs and tumbled into the dirt. A few heads turned. Somewhere, a child gasped.

You didn’t care.

“Get lost,” you snapped, loud enough to cut through the noise around you.

A few people glanced over. A merchant frowned.

But the mercenary didn’t get angry.

He smiled.

Not the cocky smirk he’d been wearing like armor all morning. This one was different. Slower. Thinner. Like a knife slipping into silk.

You hated how calm he looked. Like he’d gotten exactly what he wanted.

“You’ve got spirit,” he murmured, voice quieter now. “I like that too.”

You didn’t give him a chance to say more. You turned and stormed away, pushing through the crowd, willing your legs not to shake.

But you could still feel it. That awful heat on the back of your neck.

——

Three days passed.

You hadn’t seen him again, not in the market, not on the road. And though you didn’t speak of it aloud, you’d felt it. The strange, coiled sense of absence. Like a storm that had paused just past the ridge. Waiting.

You pushed the thought aside as you walked. Your basket was heavy, full of the bread and herbs your grandmother had requested. Evening crept low over the trees, the light turning from gold to rust as shadows stretched longer and longer between the trunks. The woods were quiet. A little too quiet. No birds. No wind. Not even the creak of branches. Just your boots on damp leaves, and your breathing, and that crawling sensation like something just behind you.

…

The growl came first. Low, guttural. Then the snap of twigs. You turned just in time to see a wolf lunge.

Its weight hit you like a thrown sack of stone, knocking you hard onto your back. The breath tore out of your lungs as teeth snapped inches from your face, reeking of rot and blood. You shoved your arm under its throat, keeping it at bay with both hands while it snarled and twisted, claws raking at your skirts.

Your palm lit up in panic, magic flaring gold against the beast’s ribs. It didn’t throw it back like you’d hoped. The creature jerked, yelped, but it didn’t fall. You grabbed a broken branch from the ground and shoved it between its teeth before it could clamp down again. The branch splintered, but it gave you enough time to twist, roll, and knee the creature hard in the ribs.

It yelped and pulled back. You scrambled to your feet, heart thundering. Your hands were scraped raw. Your shawl had been torn clean down one side.

Another snarl. It came again—faster this time.

You ducked. You kicked. You drove your elbow into the side of its neck. The wolf crashed into a tree and staggered.

You raised your hand again, palm glowing faintly, hoping—praying—that something, anything, would spark strong enough to knock it out.

But the magic fizzled, drained and useless, like striking flint in the rain.

A second growl came from behind.

You turned slowly.

Another wolf. Black-furred, low to the ground, teeth slick. This one was smarter. It didn’t rush.

You were cornered. Your breath hitched. You stepped back toward the tree, pulse thrumming in your ears.

And then—just as the second wolf began to stalk forward—

Steel flashed.
Flesh split.
A roar not from an animal but from a man.

The mercenary collided with the first wolf like a thunderclap—his blade arcing low, catching the beast along the ribs. Blood sprayed. The wolf howled and staggered, but it didn’t drop.

He didn’t hesitate. He followed it, fast and brutal, boots pounding the earth as he brought the blade down again. The second swing sank deep into the creature’s shoulder, cutting through fur and muscle with a wet crunch. It screamed and bucked wildly, knocking him off balance, and in that moment the other wolf sprang.

You screamed. He turned just in time to take the brunt of it—teeth sinking into his forearm as he raised it to block. Blood poured freely down his sleeve.

Still, he held.

With a growl of pain, he slammed his fist into the wolf’s muzzle, staggering it just enough to wrench his arm free and shove the beast back. He was bleeding badly now. You saw it. The wound was deep, jagged.

The first wolf had recovered. It circled again. Two predators, flanking. They weren’t wild—they were coordinated. Intelligent.

You had to move.

You darted in without thinking. Heart hammering. You grabbed a fallen branch from the underbrush—a thick one, splintered at the tip—and rammed it straight into the first wolf’s side as it lunged toward him again.

It shrieked, twisting midair, your makeshift spear dragging a line of blood along its ribs. It didn’t fall, but it hesitated. And that was enough. The mercenary lunged forward, driving his blade clean into its neck. Blood sprayed hot across your skirts. The wolf collapsed, spasming once before going still.

The second wolf growled low. It lunged itself towards you.

You threw yourself forward, hands glowing faintly with the last shimmer of your magic. You slammed your palm against its snout, and the flash of energy surged into its skull like a jolt of white fire. The creature reeled, yelping, momentarily dazed.

The mercenary didn’t waste it. He grabbed its throat with both hands, twisting hard, and slammed it down onto a jagged rock. There was a crunch. A cry. And then silence.

You were both panting. You staggered back against a tree, trembling.

The mercenary straightened slowly, covered in gore. His face was pale, sweat slicking his brow. His arm was bleeding freely, soaking through his coat, and there was a ragged wound across his ribs.

But he was alive. So were you.

He wiped the blade off on his sleeve and looked down at the broken bodies. Then at you.

His voice was hoarse. Rough.

“That wasn’t just a wolf.”

You blinked. “What…?”

He nudged the corpse of the second one with his boot. Its eyes were still open—too many teeth in its mouth, too much muscle beneath the fur. Its limbs were too long. Not natural.

“Monster-wolves,” he said. “Some call them duskbeasts. Wolves who were born of magic. They had probably been tracking you for miles.”

He looked up at you, gaze steady despite the exhaustion bleeding through his limbs.

You stared at the carcasses, heart still thudding in your throat. The wolves—the duskbeasts—lay twisted and broken in the fading light, their bodies too large, too wrong. Joints bent at unnatural angles, mouths stretched too wide, fangs still bared in death. You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it.

“I mean, it makes sense.” His voice was strained, but still tried for smugness. “You're a little irresistible, little fox. Even to monsters.”

You turned to look at him. He was limping slightly, favoring his left side, blood dripping steadily from his arm and soaking through the black of his coat. And yet somehow—somehow—he still managed to smirk at you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered.

“And you’re welcome.” He winced as he walked, though he tried to mask it. “Wouldn’t have lasted another minute without me. Admit it.”

You stepped toward him and reached for the torn fabric near his ribs. He flinched slightly but didn’t stop you.

“I would’ve lasted fine without you,” you said, and jabbed your fingers firmly into the deepest part of the wound.

He let out a sharp gasp through his teeth and immediately folded forward with a groan.

“Gods—! What was that for?”

“Just checking how fine you’re doing.”

“Cruel little thing.” He gritted his teeth, swaying slightly as he glared at you. “And here I came to rescue you.”

“You also stalked me through the market and called me little fox five too many times.”

“Six, actually.”

You rolled your eyes.

But he was turning pale, and the cocky lilt in his voice had begun to fray at the edges.

“We need to get you off your feet.”

“Oh? That sounds—”

“Say another word and I’ll jab your ribs again.”

He shut up.

—-

You half-dragged, half-guided him through the woods until the trees gave way to your grandmother’s farm. Smoke curled from the chimney, but you steered him away from the house and toward the stables, where the air smelled of hay and horses, and no one would ask questions.

He collapsed onto a low bench near the far stall, back slumping against the post, blood dripping down his side in slow rivulets.

“Stay still,” you said, already digging through the old healing pouch you kept hidden in the tack box. The salves were weak, the herbs cheap but your magic was returning, slowly, like warmth seeping back into your limbs after frost.

You knelt before him, fingers steady as you peeled away the shredded fabric of his coat. The wound along his ribs was ugly. Deep, angry, red.

“This is going to sting.”

“I like pain,” he muttered. “Makes me—“

You jabbed your thumb into the edge of the gash again.

“Ow!” He hissed. “I take it back. I take it all back.”

“Good.”

You pressed your hand flat over the wound, and light spilled from your palm. Golden, warm, and slow-moving. The bleeding eased almost immediately. The edges of the torn flesh began to knit beneath your touch, muscle rejoining muscle, skin pulling together again.

He watched you the entire time.

Didn’t speak. Didn’t smile. Just watched, with that pale, patient intensity like he was memorizing the shape of your hand. The furrow of your brow. The sound of your breathing.

The silence stretched.

And just when the magic began to fade, he said, quietly, “You really weren’t going to leave me behind.”

You didn’t look at him.

“No.”

“I like that about you,” he murmured. “Even if you hate me.”

“I do hate you,” you said, smoothing the last edge of bandage over his arm.

He smiled faintly.

“You say that,” he said, voice low, “but you’re still touching me.”

You stood up so fast he nearly fell off the bench.

“Don’t push it.”

He lifted his hands in surrender, though his smirk had returned in full.

“I’m just saying. You’re a very caring little fox.”

You reached for your basket, ready to hurl another apple at his face.

“Try me.”

Your fingers had just closed around the basket's handle when his hand shot out and caught your wrist.

“Hey—”

He tugged, and before you could plant your feet, you stumbled forward. The bench creaked beneath both your weights as you landed—half on it, half on him, knees bumping his and palm braced on the wood beside his thigh.

“Gods,” you muttered, “what are you—”

“I need to check you,” he said, already reaching for the edge of your shawl. “You were thrown to the ground. Bitten at. Scratched. You might be bleeding and not even feel it yet.”

You slapped his hand away. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Oh, really?” He arched a brow, fingers brushing your shoulder again. “Then what’s this?”

“That’s fabric, and I swear—”

But he was already lifting the shawl, pulling it aside like he had any right, gaze scanning your collarbone, your upper arm, the line of your shoulder. His hand was warm, calloused, and annoyingly gentle.

Your face burned hot. “Stop.”

“Just one sec. If there’s a bite I missed, it could go bad.”

“There’s no bite!”

He reached for the tie of your blouse.

And that was it.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked.

Hard.

“Agh—! Ow—gods—!” he wheezed, twisting away as your fingers tangled in the sweat-damp strands near the base of his skull. “Mercy, woman!”

You didn’t let go. “Still feel like checking me now?”

He was laughing before he even got the words out. “Alright—alright—it was a joke!”

You stared at him.

“You were blushing,” he wheezed, grinning up at you like a boy caught with both hands in the pantry. “I couldn’t resist.”

“You nearly got punched in the ribs again.”

“Worth it.”

You shoved him back against the post, not hard enough to reopen the wound, but enough to rattle him. His smirk didn’t falter—if anything, it deepened.

“I liked the hair-pull,” he said. “Very commanding. Should’ve known you were the grabby type.”

You let go of him fast.

“Sleep outside,” you said, brushing off your skirts. “With the horses.”

He tilted his head back against the beam, watching you through narrowed eyes, still smiling.

“Can’t,” he said. “I think I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying.”

“I might be.”

“Then go die quietly. Somewhere far away.”

He slouched down, sighing dramatically. “So cruel. You mend me with magic just to break my heart.”

—-

The next morning, the sun had barely crested the treetops when you slipped into the barn again. It was cooler inside—dust motes floating in the early light, the air thick with the scent of hay, old wood, and horses that hadn’t yet stirred.

You hadn’t brought much. Just a crust of bread, a bit of cheese, and a jar of quince jam your grandmother had insisted on giving him. She didn’t ask who he was. Only raised an eyebrow when you came in with blood on your skirts and left again with clean bandages and a muttered excuse about a “traveler who got into a scrap.”

You found him right where you’d left him—half-sprawled on the bench, coat slung over a post, boots kicked off, hair a mess.

He was asleep.

Or pretending to be.

You approached quietly, footsteps soft in the straw. The basket creaked as you set it down. At the sound, he stirred, one pale eye sliding open beneath a tousled strand of hair.

“You didn’t die,” you said.

He blinked slowly, voice rough with sleep. “Not yet.”

“Shame.”

He groaned as he sat up, one hand pressed to his side. “You say the cruelest things first thing in the morning.”

“I brought food.”

“I take it back.”

You handed him the bread and jam. He studied it like it might explode. Then: “Is this a peace offering?”

“No. It’s breakfast.”

“Still sounds like a peace offering.”

“Eat it before I change my mind.”

He gave you a long, unreadable look then took the bread with a half-smile and broke it in two, handing you back a piece.

You didn’t take it.

“I made it for you.”

He raised a brow. “You made bread?”

“Poorly.”

He bit into it anyway. “Still the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in months.”

You sat down a few feet away on an overturned bucket, watching him pick crumbs from the corner of his mouth.

His movements were slower today. Careful. His side was clearly bothering him, though he tried not to show it.

“How’s the wound?”

He glanced down at it. “Clean. Mostly. Still hurts like hell.”

“You’ll live.”

“Again, debatable.” He leaned back against the post, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “I had a nightmare you tried to stab me with a spoon.”

“Sounds like a dream.”

He cracked an eye. “Cruel.”

You crossed your arms, studying the hay-strewn floor.

A moment passed.

Then, softly, “You’re really not going to ask who I am?”

You looked at him. “I assumed you’d tell me when you wanted to.”

That seemed to surprise him more than any accusation would have. He stared at you for a beat, the usual arrogance stripped from his face.

“I’ve got names,” he said eventually, voice low. “Too many, depending on the town. But you can call me Kesh.”

“Kesh.”

“Short for something unpronounceable,” he added, biting into the bread again. “Or possibly made up. Hard to say.”

You waited.

“And you?” he asked. “What do they call you, little fox?”

You hesitated.

His tone had softened. Not mocking, not prying. Just curious. And in that stillness, with the smell of hay and bread between you, it felt almost safe to answer.

So you did.

Quietly. Simply. Just the name you’d carried since birth, like any other burden.

Kesh blinked, then tilted his head slightly, as if turning the sound of it over in his mind. His lips quirked at the corners.

“I like mine better,” he said.

You frowned. “Your…?”

He gave a faint shrug, the movement slow to avoid tugging at his ribs. “Little fox. It suits you. You’re quick on your feet, bite when cornered, and keep looking at me like you’re wondering if I’ll steal your chickens.”

“I am wondering.”

“I don’t even like chickens.”

You scoffed. “You don’t like anything that behaves better than you.”

He grinned, unabashed. “Exactly.”

You stood. “You can call me by my name.”

“I could,” he said, “but then you might forget how much it annoys you when I don’t.”

You stared at him. He gave you that same look from the day before—the one that cut straight through the humor, the wounds, the mess of it all.

A pause stretched between you.

Then, softer this time, like a secret:
“I’ll say it when it matters.”

You didn’t quite know what to make of that.

But you turned to leave without arguing, hand on the barn door, the morning breeze sneaking in through the slats.

Behind you, Kesh muttered through a mouthful of cheese, “Besides…the way you say Kesh, it kind of sounds like you like me.”

You didn’t respond.

You just let the door swing shut on whatever grin he was wearing.

—-

Kesh stayed for five months.
Not because he asked. Not because you offered.
He just…didn’t leave.

And somehow, the days folded in around him.

—-

Week One:
You found him asleep in the hayloft, a pitchfork clutched like a sword across his chest. When you called his name, he opened one eye and said, “You're sweet when you're worried,” before you could deny it.

You nearly threw the bucket of water you were holding.

Later, you brought him a fresh bandage and told him he smelled like barn cat.

—-

Week Two:
He helped you chop wood.

Well—helped might be generous. You did most of the chopping. He leaned against a stump and gave commentary.

“You’ve got murderous form,” he said, dodging a stray splinter. “Marry me.”

You missed the log entirely and told him to shut up.
He laughed so hard he winced and nearly opened his stitches again.

Afterward, you smeared salve on his wounds.

—

Week Three:
You taught him how to braid twine into rope.

He got it wrong three times, cursed every loop, and tied his own sleeve to the rafter.
You nearly fell off your stool laughing.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” he said, struggling to untangle himself.

“Not enough,” you replied.

But when you took his hand to guide the next knot, your fingers brushed, and neither of you pulled away.

—-

Week Four:
You caught him feeding your grandmother’s half-blind goat a tart from the pantry. She was supposed to be fasting for bloat.

You smacked the tart out of his hand and told him he’d killed her.

She lived. Thrived, actually. She followed him around all afternoon like a lovesick puppy.

He called it destiny.
You called it suspicious.

—

One Month In:
Your grandmother asked him to bring in kindling.

He came back with an entire broken tree branch and three pinecones. Proud.

She looked at the mess, then at him.
“You could’ve gotten away with this if you were at least pretty,” she said.
Kesh looked insulted.
“I’m devastatingly handsome,” he corrected.

She snorted and tossed him a knife.
“Make yourself useful, then.”

He did.

You found them later at the table, peeling apples. She was telling him a story you hadn’t heard in years, smiling.

—

Two Months In:
Rain.

Kesh stayed in the barn, listening to the storm through the rafters while you sat beside him with mending in your lap.
You didn’t speak for an hour. Just the click of your needle and the soft drum of water on the roof.

Then, without looking up, he said,
“You make this place feel less like the end of the world.”

You nearly pricked your thumb.

When you looked over, he was watching the rain.
Like he hadn’t said anything at all.

—

Three Months In:
You found your grandmother muttering in the kitchen.

“I told him to get thyme,” she said, pulling open a drawer. “He came back with a rock. A rock, child. And berries I didn’t ask for.”

You raised a brow. “Where is he now?”

“In the garden,” she said, exasperated. “Asking the scarecrow if it likes jam.”

You stepped outside, and sure enough—there he was.
Jarring jam for a scarecrow.
You didn’t ask.

You just helped him clean the lids.

—

Four Months In:
There was a harvest fair in town. You didn’t want to go, but your grandmother made you.

Kesh went with you.
You bought cinnamon bread and apples.
He won a knife-throwing contest.

That night, you both sat under the porch roof.
He leaned his head back and said, “I’m not good at staying. But this…it’s hard to leave.”

You didn’t answer.
But your hand was close to his on the bench.
You didn’t move it.

—

Five Months In:
You found him at the edge of the woods, eyes fixed on the trees.
The morning was cold. Mist low and clinging.
He looked different—still, somehow. Like a coin balanced on its edge.

“I’ll go soon,” he said, without turning.

You didn’t answer right away. Then,

“Why.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Don’t make it harder,” he said.

You didn’t ask what it was.
You didn’t have to.

You just stepped up beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and watched the mist drift through the trees.

—-

Kesh left the next morning.
No note. No goodbye. Just the faint smell of smoke in the barn rafters and the imprint of his weight still pressed into the bench.

You found the twine rope you’d made together, looped neatly and left on the hook beside the stall. The knots were crooked. You didn’t untie them.

—-

Autumn came. Then winter.
The frost crept in slow. First at the corners of windows, then the edges of fields. The leaves turned, then fell, and still—you didn’t hear from him.

Your grandmother asked once. Just once.

“Is that traveler coming back?”

You’d been kneading dough. You didn’t look up. “He wasn’t staying.”

She didn’t press. Only nodded and went back to her knitting. But after that, she always set aside an extra slice of bread when she packed your basket for the barn.

You didn’t mention it.

—-

The days grew short.
Chores filled the quiet. Wood to stack. Stock to feed. A new fence to fix when the goats got too bold. You’d never minded solitude. Not really. But now it sat different, like a room that used to hold music.

Sometimes, in the early mornings, you caught yourself listening for footsteps that weren’t there. That particular rhythm—lazy, and uneven. But there was nothing. Just you and the frost.

And the rope on its hook.

—-

In town, you heard stories.

Monster-wolves, again. A whole den burned in the northeast hills. A caravan attacked at dusk. The survivors said someone had come out of the trees to stop it—just one man, cloaked in black, moving like a storm with a sword.

No one knew his name.

You said nothing.

But that night, you stayed out by the barn a little longer than usual. Let the cold bite into your fingers. Looked toward the woods until your eyes watered.

—-

Spring came late.
The thaw was slow. Mud clung to your boots for weeks. The goats molted horribly. The apple trees budded unevenly.

You started sleeping poorly. Dreams full of teeth and smoke and voices that sounded like his, only never quite said your name.

Until one did.

—-

It was barely dawn.
Mist clung low to the field when the knock came. Three short raps on the side of the house. Not the front door. The side—the barn-facing one.

Your hands moved before your head caught up. Shawl thrown around your shoulders, boots half-tied, you stepped out into the chill and saw—

Him.

Kesh stood at the edge of the porch, one arm braced against the post. His coat was darker now, mended in places, torn in others. He looked tired. Thinner. But still him.

Still Kesh.

His smirk flickered into place the moment your eyes met.

“Hey, little fox.”

He waited.

Waited for you to say something sharp. Or throw something. Or look away.

You didn’t.

You just crossed the few steps to him, grabbed the collar of his coat and hit him once in the chest with your fist.

Then, voice hoarse:

“You’re late.”

He blinked. Then smiled—soft this time. Small and sure, like he’d been carrying it all this time, just for this.

“I got lost.”

“Liar.”

“I missed you.”

That one landed. You hated how easily it cracked something open in your chest.

You didn’t speak again.

You just stepped into him, arms around his waist, cheek pressed to his shoulder. And for once—for once—he didn’t make a joke.

He just held you.

You didn’t know how long you stood there. Long enough for your fingers to go numb against the worn leather of his coat. Long enough to realize his arms had tightened slightly around you, just enough to be sure he wouldn’t disappear if you blinked.

Eventually, you pulled back.

Not far. Just enough to see his face again.

And now that he was this close, really here—you had questions. Dozens of them, crawling up your throat faster than you could speak them.

“Where were you?”
“Are you hurt?”
“What happened?”
“Why didn’t you write?”
“Was it really you they saw near the hills?”
“Did you find more of those monsters?”
“Why now?”
“Why here?”

You stopped short of asking the last one aloud. But Kesh must’ve seen it in your eyes.

He smiled, soft and unapologetic, the corners of his mouth tugging upward like he’d expected the flood. Maybe even missed it.

“I’ll tell you,” he said, voice low. “I’ll tell you everything. Happily. Over tea. Inside. Where there’s a roof. And food.”

You stared at him.

Then stepped back fully, arms folding over your chest. “You think you deserve tea?”

“I always deserve tea.”

“You smell like you haven’t bathed in weeks.”

“I definitely haven’t.”

You sighed and turned toward the house. “Come on, then.”

Kesh followed like he’d never left. Same easy steps, same little limp, same smugness barely reined in behind every word.

But he didn’t speak again. Not right away.

He just looked around. At the porch. The field. The garden fence you’d mended. The goat grazing peacefully by the shed—his goat, technically, if affection meant anything.

And then he looked at you.

Like he’d remembered something, and now he was seeing it again for the first time.

You didn’t know what to do with that.

So you pushed open the door.

Inside, the kettle was already on. You’d lit it earlier, just for the chill, not expecting anything. The fire was crackling low. A pair of boots were drying near the hearth.

Your grandmother was sitting at the table, peeling root vegetables into a chipped bowl.

She looked up when the door opened.

Saw you first.

Then him.

A beat of silence passed.

Then, without missing a stroke of the knife, she said, “Well. Look what the goat dragged back.”

Kesh blinked. “You mean cat, surely.”

“She’s too clean,” your grandmother replied, nodding toward the goat out the window. “That one eats mice. Keeps her fur tidy. You, on the other hand…”

Kesh looked personally wounded.

Your grandmother rose from her chair and stepped closer, wiping her hands on her apron. Then she stood in front of him, arms folded, giving him a long, sharp once-over.

He stood still.

She reached out suddenly, brushing her fingers across his cheek.

Then she clucked her tongue. “Thinner than last time. And still ugly.”

Kesh looked delighted. “Missed you too, old woman.”

“Mm.” She turned to you. “Feed him before he talks himself faint.”

You rolled your eyes, already moving toward the cupboard. “He talks himself faint on purpose.”

Behind you, Kesh groaned as he settled into the nearest chair with the grace of a dropped sack of flour. “That’s slander. I only ever faint when it gets me something.”

“Like pity,” you muttered.

“Or a slice of bread.” He grinned, folding his arms behind his head. “Speaking of, if you had any of that quince jam left from before I was brutally exiled—”

“You left, you idiot,” you said, placing a bowl of stew and a heel of bread in front of him with more force than necessary.

“Semantics,” he said through a mouthful of bread. “I left to make you miss me.”

“She didn’t,” your grandmother said from her seat by the hearth, stirring her tea.

“I felt it, though,” he said, pointing a spoon at her. “Every day. The crushing weight of your mutual longing.”

You nearly smacked him with a wooden ladle.

He chewed dramatically for a few more seconds, then sat back with a satisfied sigh. “You’ll be pleased to know, however, that while you were pining, I was doing heroic things.”

You snorted. “Sleeping in ditches and starting bar fights?”

“And saving entire villages, thank you.” He wiped his mouth on his sleeve—ignoring your grimace—and leaned in slightly. “You remember those beasts? The ones from the woods?”

Your hand froze on the ladle.

“Wolves?” your grandmother said, frowning slightly.

“Not wolves,” Kesh said. “Not really. The ones that attacked her weren’t the only ones sniffing around. I heard whispers, saw tracks. Something had stirred them up. Made them bold.”

You said nothing. Just watched him.

“So I followed them,” he went on, quieter now. “Weeks of it. Trail after trail. Whole nests of them—dozens. Buried deep in the hills. Blood-magic in the dirt. Something old and wrong.” He glanced at you. “Whatever they were after before…they’re not after it anymore. I killed them all.”

You didn’t know what to say to that.

Your grandmother broke the silence first, as she always did. “You brought that stench into my house just to brag?”

“I brought it to warn you,” Kesh said with a grin. “Then I remembered how much I missed being insulted before breakfast.”

You pushed his bowl toward him more firmly. “Eat.”

“Yes, general.” He took another bite, then added around it, “I kept a tally, you know.”

“A tally?”

“One scratch for every wolf I put down. Want to see?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You kept a murder log.”

He tugged his coat open and pulled his undershirt down at the collar, revealing the slope of his shoulder. Just near the collarbone—barely visible under smudged skin—were a series of faint carved lines. Sharp. Careful.

You reached forward before you thought better of it, brushing your thumb over the edge of one.

“How many?” you asked quietly.

“Too many.”

Kesh leaned back again, eyes half-lidded. “I’m thinking of getting one more. A tally for how many times you’ve looked at me like that.”

“Like what?” you snapped, pulling your hand back.

“Like I’m not all bad,” he said. “Like you might’ve missed me too.”

You opened your mouth—but your grandmother clattered her teacup down with a sigh.

“You two are exhausting,” she muttered. “Finish your food before it goes cold. And if either of you start flirting in front of me again, I’ll hex you both bald.”

Kesh looked thrilled.

“See? This is the real reason I came back.”

You rolled your eyes again—but this time, you were smiling. Just a little.

—-

The house had long since gone quiet.

The kind of quiet that settled deep into the walls—warm fire embers gone to ash, your grandmother snoring faintly behind the bedroom door, and outside, nothing but crickets and the creak of tree limbs in the wind.

But you weren’t asleep.

And neither was he.

You found him out in the barn again, sitting on the same bench as the first night you’d patched him up. No lantern, no boots. Just moonlight through the slats and the low rustle of hay as you pushed the door open.

He didn’t look up.

You stepped inside anyway, shawl around your shoulders, the cold biting at your ankles.

He let you come to him. Let you sit beside him without a word. The silence between you was familiar now—not empty, not strained. Just full of things unsaid.

For a while, it stayed that way.

Then—

“I didn’t kill them to be a hero.”

His voice was quiet. Rough at the edges. You glanced at him.

His elbows were on his knees, hands clasped, jaw set hard. No grin. No smugness. Just his face in profile, sharp with moonlight and something unreadable in his eyes.

“I didn’t do it for glory. Or coin. Or heroics. I followed those things across three counties. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat right. I picked fights with anything that smelled like them.”

You waited.

“They don’t feel pain,” he said. “Not like animals do. But I wanted them to. I needed them to. Because when I saw one of them throw you down, when I saw you bleeding—” He broke off. “There was a moment I thought I’d gotten there too late.”

Your breath caught.

“And I’ve been too late before,” he murmured. “Too many times.”

You watched his throat move as he swallowed hard.

“So I hunted every last one I could find. I made it slow. I made it hurt. Because I wanted them to know what it meant to touch you. To try to take you from this world.”

He looked at you then. Really looked.

The kind of look that doesn’t ask for forgiveness, or praise—just understanding.

And maybe, somewhere beneath it, fear.

“I don’t know what that makes me,” he said. “But that’s why I did it.”

You sat very still.

The air between you had changed—thicker now, like the moonlight had weight, like the shadows were leaning in to listen. His hands were still clasped, knuckles pale. He didn’t glance away. Didn’t try to charm his way past what he’d just said.

And maybe that was what made it feel so heavy. So real. You studied him a moment longer. The quiet in your chest wasn’t fear. It wasn’t even shock.

It was a question.

So you asked it.

Soft. Careful.

“If I asked you to do something like that again…to anyone. Anything. Would you?”

His expression didn’t change at first.

Then slowly—very slowly—he sat back against the barn wall, his jaw shifting as if weighing the shape of your words. His eyes dropped to the floor, then back to you.

“Is that what you want?”

“No,” you said quickly. “That’s not what I’m asking.”

His gaze flicked to yours.

“You want to know how far I’d go.”

He exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. “If it was you asking?” he said. “Yes.”

Your heart thudded. Once.

He wasn’t done.

“If you looked me in the eye and said someone deserved pain—I wouldn’t even ask why. I’d just do it.”

There was no heat in his tone. No smugness. Just plain fact, as steady and unflinching as the blade at his hip.

Then his voice dropped lower.

“I wanted to hurt anyone who looked at you.”

You turned to him slowly, but he didn’t look back. His jaw was tight again, eyes on the floorboards like they were safer than your face.

“Every time I saw someone stare at you too long—at the market, at the road, even in town—I imagined snapping their fingers one by one. Just to see how fast they'd stop.”

A pause.

“I didn’t, obviously,” he added with a bitter sort of smirk. “Congratulations to them.”

You said nothing.

Because he wasn’t joking. Not really.

Kesh didn’t say things to shock. Not like this. He said them because they were already boiling too close to the surface. Because saying it aloud was the only way to loosen his grip on it.

“I’m not proud of it,” he said, quieter now. “Didn’t come here planning to turn feral in your barn. But something about this place—about you—it gets under my skin.”

He rubbed at the corner of his mouth like he could wipe the words away. But they stayed there, heavy between you.

“I’ve been around too much,” he went on. “Seen too much. Most days I don’t give a damn about anyone but myself. I thought that was smart. Safer. But then you—”

He cut himself off.

You watched the shadows pool beneath his lashes, the strain in his shoulders, the half-curled fist in his lap.

Then, finally—softly—

“Kesh.”

He looked up.

You didn’t think. Didn’t plan.

You just leaned in.

And kissed him.

His breath hitched against your mouth—surprised, almost startled—but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he moved closer. His hand slid up instinctively, fingers threading through your hair, the other curling around your waist. He kissed like he fought—with intensity, with purpose. No half-measures. No hesitation. The kind of kiss that spoke of everything he didn’t know how to say aloud. Fierce. Focused. Messy. You felt it in your spine.

His mouth grazed yours, deepening, tilting with yours like you were made to move this way, like this was inevitable. His fingers slid to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer, until your knees bumped his and you braced yourself on his thigh.

That’s when his hand—the other hand—slid a little too low.

You broke the kiss with a sharp gasp and smacked him across the chest.

He froze.

Then—

“Ow,” he wheezed, grinning like an idiot. “That’s not fair.”

You scowled, cheeks burning. “Hands where I can see them.”

“I got excited,” he said, all wounded pride and zero remorse. “You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back.”

“It was great.”

You shoved him, and he caught himself on the edge of the bench, laughter low and breathless in the dark.

“I’m going to regret that, aren’t I?” you muttered.

He looked up at you through a tousled strand of hair, eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

“Only if you don’t do it again.”

You groaned and pressed your lips to his.

“Idiot.”

Masterlist

[popzev]

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒, 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐒, & 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 | saja boys (individually) x reader

🎫 sum. how the saja boys hold your hand, hug you, and kiss you. / tw. nothing! / a/n: the gradient text took me a bit 😭

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐔 who grasps your hand tightly whenever you’re walking side by side, as if you’ll be taken away as soon as he lets go because he doesn’t deserve someone like you.

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐔 who hugs you like he’s trying to imprint you into his skin and mind, relishing in the couple moments of peace in your arms before he’s brought back to reality.

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐔 who kisses you slow, putting every ounce of feeling into it like it’s the last time he’ll ever do so.

𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐘 who links arms with you and holds your hand, sneering at anyone who even glances at you both because he can sense the jealousy (or so he says).

𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐘 who hugs you so tightly, like he’s reminding you of his strength every opportunity he gets. who needs a chiropractor when you have this man to do the job?

𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐘 who kisses you like he’s trying to prove something to someone, only to switch to being mellow and relaxed a couple seconds later.

𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 who holds your hand like he has the possibility to crush it in his own, gently letting it be against his without firmly gripping. but whenever someone comes up to you initiating a conversation, you feel him squeeze just a bit tighter.

𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 who hugs you with his head buried into your neck or nuzzled into the top of your head.

𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 who kisses you shyly, letting you take the lead and the privilege of cupping his face and brushing away the hair from his face to reveal his eyes looking lovingly into yours.

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 who holds your hand elegantly like you’re royalty, tracing little hearts into your skin with his finger.

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 who hugs you with a hand around your waist and one behind your head, bringing you in with a gently placed smile and sometimes a small flirtatious comment.

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 who kisses you like a scene out of a k-drama (which he definitely binged for references), never short with a delicate press turning into something a bit more fierce.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 who holds your hand in his pocket or holds it so loosely you think he doesn’t like it, come to find out that when you pull away he’ll tighten his grip immensely on you.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 who hugs you with his hands playing with your hair or whatever you’re wearing, hiding his face that’s growing embarrassingly hot into your neck, shoulder, and so on.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 who kisses you and has a mood swing from being careless to having so much passion evident that you can’t help but laugh a little whenever he glances away from your eyes afterward. he always ends up with a smile; though, and leaves a peck on the side of your lips when he leaves.

˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐎𝐏𝐙𝐄𝐕 ˎˊ˗ do not plagiarize/steal, repost, translate, and/or claim any of my works as your own.

[lucygraysboy]

“yeah, yeah, don’t mention it.” jesse waves his hand in a dismissive manner, cheeks growing rosy and an awkward smile blooming on his lips. he’s not used to being treated like a hero and doesn’t actually think he’s done anything worthy of such hearty gratitude. if he was the one struggling to swim to the surface, he’d hope billy’s girl would try to help him out, too. animosities aside. his moral compass is skewed but at the end of the day his heart is in the right place — billy will always be his little brother, no matter how often they argue or how long they go without talking to each other, and lucy gray… well, billy loves her. “i lost my flip flops,” billy grumbles when jesse wraps his arm around his waist, helping him up the trail. both of them look down at his bare feet. it’s hard to see in the darkness, on the trail where the pines don’t allow for more than a sliver of moonlight to shine through, but the blond still lets out a chuckle and taps his friend on the back. “go on, billy boy. we’ll find ‘em in the mornin’.” they do manage to stumble upon pat garrett’s flashlight, though. jesse turns it on and lights the way, occasionally looking over his shoulder and purposely slowing down to keep a close eye on lucy gray. he doesn’t want to hear more about this brawl that ensured between billy and pat, or whatever had happened earlier between him and his girl. it’s none of jesse’s business and it only makes him feel awkward, having to witness this.

billy spins in his arms, regaining more control over his body and frowning at lucy gray’s words. “i never called you a floozy! i said you’s a cheater, which you are by the way! but that don’t mean i don’t care ‘bout some asshole tryin’ to feel you up on a boat! so i put ‘im in ‘is place, what’s so terrible ‘bout that? are you gon’ defend ‘im too now?! won’t touch you again, ’s all that matters,” the cowboy grumbles, pressing his fingertips to his torn brow and wincing when they come back bloody. he’s supposed to be back on set in a week! now he’s getting angry again. well, at least until lucy gray mentions ice. that would indeed feel good on his face, on his lip that seems to be pulsing more furiously with each step and on his brow. he’d have to agree with her openly so he says nothing, just leans back on jesse as they keep walking. pines and rocks making the soles of his feet hurt. “why was you gettin’ down there in the water all by yourself anyway? huh? a few bucks in soap and shampoo really worth losin’ your life for?” he asks, his voice angry, annoyed even though the bite’s gone now. he doesn’t have the energy for another fight. “thanks, jesse. thanks for savin’ my reckless ex-girlfriend’s life. she can’t take care of herself.” jesse just runs a hand over his face, unsure how many times he can repeat the phrase don’t mention it before they take it literally and shut up. “blah, blah, blah.” billy turns around again, making that hand gesture, where his fingers and thumb repeatedly snap together, indicating her pointless babbling. jesse has to grab him by said hand and urge him forward. “you know, jess, he sent her pictures of his fuckin’ filly! an’ she got mad at me!” the blond just raises his eyebrows, lets out a hum and keeps them walking, feeling way more awkward than he did as a kid when his parents were arguing in front of him.

when they reach the campsite, the bonfire’s still burning and the light above the steps to the old RV is on. pat’s sitting on a folding chair, clutching his side and hissing as doc examines his jaw and the insides of his mouth. apparently one of his teeth is a bit wobbly now. they say nothing when they see billy, lucy gray and jesse. doc lifts his hand in a silent hello and jesse responds the same way. pat and billy eye each other for a moment, but then billy begins to walk back to the camper without a word. pat, being pat, sticks his foot out and trips him. jesse grabs his stumbling friend by the shoulder and just as billy attempts to retaliate insists, “let it go, billy boy. let it go.” he hands him a cool beer bottle to put on his swollen lip, but billy turns it down and heads straight for his bunk, making sure to wipe his dirty feet on pat’s fart-filled sleepin’ bag before climbing up. 

“thank you for that too, for comin’ just in time jesse.” what a rare moment in time, lucy gray treating him with sincere appreciation and kindness. really, he’s done a lot of shit. but what the hell would she have done if not for them coming out? it’s a confusing feeling, knowing all the bad jesse has still done but he did her a favor she can’t be more grateful for… and she’d go as far to say he helped her from drowning. billy would have been too late if her feet hadn’t become untangled from her skirt. “thank you,” for the towel. wringing her hair out again, she stands wobbly in discomfort and from her nerves that still has her hands and limbs shaking. shuffling over, slipping her feet into her flip flops, “it’s not the time for it! you idiot! since you don’t care about my honor anyway— when you disrespect me callin’ me a floozy. and be honest billy, you only beat up pat not to defend me, but to show him dominance.” since living like a monk is all that’s on his mind, he thought pat was going to get a night with her. “to get your rocks off, from all that psychotic anger you were just filled with.” the tiny brunette scowls, “who doesn’t want to sleep at this point?” after what he’s done, his messed up face would break her heart any other time— but right now, he just deserves it. dragging herself along behind jesse because she IS going but not stopping with the comments, she’s looking to billy as they begin to walk, “won’t be any ice to apply to all that bullshit either.” be lucky if he finds a piece in one of the coolers, gesturing to his bloodied face. “how awful.” to get beaten like that, to have water still stuck in her nose she’s trying to blow into her shirt, to be soaking wet in her fresh clean clothes she JUST put back on. it’s really adding fuel to her low and depressed and terrible mood. hating every single damn step of the way, has her tensed, walking uncomfortably and ready to slam her face against a boulder. “mhm, no thanks to you,” she repeats, “you know i can’t swim. and you didn’t give a damn. what if jesse hadn’t came? you’d felt real bad once i wasn’t there to argue with anymore. to accuse bein’ a whore. a cheater. and whatever else horrific ideas you’ve copped up ‘bout me. and river? shut up, billy. just shut the hell up…textin’ any man on the face of this earth is the last thing I EVER will be doin’ again. i’ve had my fair share of men, by now. real dad who leaves me, preacher who berates me consistently and leaves me, best friend who leaves me, billy taupe who belittled me n’ my worth and leaves me, best friend who comes back into my life and sets us up off lies, that last guy who just had his own problems, best friend who comes back into my life again and then says i’m this and that. pat bein’ a sicko. so i don’t reckon all this, i know i’m long done with men.” who cares if jesse is hearing it all, she doesn’t give one flyin’ possum airing out all her dirty laundry. she doesn’t care about anything right this moment.

[dollfacefantasy]

READ MY MIND ♡

pairing: frank castle x bratty!fem!reader

summary: frank and jealousy don't mix well together... you find that out the hard way.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, car sex, daddy kink, jealousy, drinking, meanie frank, brat taming, age gap (20s/40s, you know the drill)

a/n: ahh finally some more frank. reader is actually highkey dumb in this but that's ok. all my creations have a place in my heart 🫶 reblogs + comments are always appreciated <3

Frank had pissed you off a couple days ago. That was how this whole thing started.

Looking back now, you could admit it all was petty. He probably didn't deserve it, and you probably could have handled yourself better. But things like these built up. You could only nod your head and smile sweetly so many times before your well of grace ran dry.

You'd been getting ready for the day, coating your lashes in some mascara after shimmying on a black skirt. Frank lounged in your bed, one muscular arm behind his head as he attempted to rest away a rough night.

Through the mirror's reflection, you'd asked him what you thought to be a simple question. "Are you gonna be here on Friday night?"

But he answered with "Dunno. Gonna try to be."

Your glossy lips pursed together as irritation flared up inside. "Well... if you had to bet. Would you say you'll be here? Or not?" you tried again.

But still. "I don't know." This time he sounded a little annoyed himself. "Why? You got something planned?" he asked.

His tone only irked you more. Sure, maybe some would say you were overreacting, getting too upset over a tiny inconvenience, but you believed in your reasons. He'd been doing this more and more lately, and it was piling up. It wasn't so much his actual absence that bugged you — you knew he had his reasons. It was the dodged answers. Physical distance you could stomach. Emotional however? Not so much.

"No. I just like knowing where you are and what I'm gonna be doing," you said, words becoming clipped.

"You can't plan anything for yourself unless you know where I'll be?" he asked with a bit of sarcasm.

That earned him a harsh glare from you.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm not trying to piss you off, baby, but I don't know. That's just the way it is."

Gritting your teeth, you looked yourself over one more time in the mirror before mumbling "fine."

Without further argument, you went for your bag hanging off the back of the desk chair. You slid it over your shoulder and scanned briefly to make sure you had everything you needed. After that, you planned on just walking out, maybe huffing a goodbye if he was lucky. But before you could go, he spoke again.

Objectively, he'd said: "Little cold out to wear that skirt, ain't it?"

But your disgruntled ears interpreted that as: "That skirt's a little too short to wear, ain't it?"

"I have tights on," you said and shot him another glare.

He blinked at the sharp response. His confused face worked you up further, and you were more than ready to go at that point. Though as you turned to depart, he called to you.

"You forgettin' something?"

A rigid wave of frustration flowed through you, but you still turned around. You knew what he was referring to, of course. All but petulantly stomping back to the edge of the mattress, you made your way to him and then leaned down to press a sticky kiss to his cheek.

"Bye," you said with a faint, involuntary pout.

He reached up, cupping your jaw and squishing your cheeks like he did every time he watched you leave.

"Be safe," he said. His version of I love you.

You nodded like you always did, giving him one more peck before pulling back and actually heading out the door. While the kiss may have given the impression that your attitude had been handled, one thought echoed through your mind as you walked down your complex's stairwell.

If he thinks this is short, I'll show him short.

Over the course of the next few days, Frank never gave you any word on whether or not he'd be at the apartment on Friday night. The more you thought about it, the more it pissed you off.

You can't plan anything for yourself unless you know where I'll be?

You clenched your jaw every time that replayed through your mind.

He had some nerve. You basically lived at his beck and call. All your time together was based around his schedule. How you acted around him depended on his mood. Everything was him him him.

So tonight was gonna be about you. Well... also him. But he wouldn't come till later.

As the sun began to set outside, you proceeded with your plan. You shedded the old t-shirt and sweats you had on, fetching something more eye-catching from your closet. A skimpy little black dress. Your hands ran over the material and smoothed it out over your curves. Some shiny heels came next and then a fresh application of darker makeup. You made sure your hair was just how he liked it too.

It was in the middle of adding the final touches to your look that you heard the front door open and then close. Your heart skipped a beat. So he had ended up coming home... you hadn't planned on seeing him till you came back tonight.

A few seconds later he walked into the bedroom. He looked tired like he did a lot of the time. For a split second, you almost felt guilty about the petty show you were putting on. It crossed your mind that you could wipe the makeup off and swap your dress out for some pjs. You could get what you actually wanted all along and spend the night by his side.

But that would require a degree of humility you didn’t possess today. You’d committed to this idea, and now you were gonna stick with it.

He registered what you had on as soon as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He went to take his boots off, but his muscles stopped all movements when he looked at you.

You could practically feel his pupils raking over your body. The warm simmer that came with his attention tingled across every inch of your skin. You played it cool though, acted natural as you grabbed your coat and shrugged it on.

“Where are you goin’?” he asked.

“Out,” you replied, picking up the nice bag you reserved for actual plans rather than errands or routines.

“Mind telling me where ‘out’ is?” he said.

“I don’t know. Just a couple different bars with my friends.”

He raised his brows. “You are going out to some bars?” he asked.

You scoffed and folded your arms across your chest. His face appeared neutral, but you were an expert in Frank-isms by now. You knew he was mocking you. It was rare for you to go out purely for socialization. He’d tease you about that regularly, saying you acted older than him by staying in all the time and going to bed early.

While normally you'd get all cute about his teasing, it frustrated you right now. You didn't want him finding humor in this when you were trying to teach a lesson.

“Yes,” you huffed. “I didn’t think you’d care since you didn’t even know if you were gonna be here tonight.”

And now his expression shifted to one of irritation as well. The passive aggressive reminder clued him into the fact that this wasn’t spontaneous. It wasn’t you trying something new for the hell of it or to get out of your comfort zone. No. You were mad at him, and instead of talking that through, you were gonna pitch a fit about it.

“I always care about where you’re going. But I don’t got a problem with it,” he said.

“Good,” you shrugged.

He sighed, his gaze lingering on your face. “Do you have a problem? Is something wrong?” he asked, clearly trying to give you the chance to end this whole thing right here.

But you didn’t take it. Instead you shook your head. “No. Why?”

“Cause you got an attitude. That’s why,” he said back.

“I don’t have an attitude,” you defended.

“You sure about that?”

“Yes,” you said. You knew you were walking a thin line. Frank was not a fan of bratty behavior to put it lightly.

He gave you another once over but ultimately decided to let it slide. "If you say so."

For once, you chose to quit while ahead and not say anything. You gave yourself a final glance in the mirror before turning to him.

"I'll see you when I get home," you said.

He nodded. And even though he wasn't pleased with your little act, he didn't want you leaving on a bad note. He forced down the irritation and pressed a kiss to your hairline.

"You call me if you need anything, yeah?" he said.

You nodded. "Yeah," you said quietly.

Regret was seeping in a little more. You'd have to get out of here quick, or you'd be kicking off your heels and hopping back into bed in no time.

You turned for the door, waving bye briefly before hightailing it out the main entry way and into the hall.

It was almost two a.m. the next time you heard Frank's voice.

You tapped his contact with a shaky thumb as you staggered your way to the exit of the club. Even pressed to your ear, you could barely hear the ringing over the music blaring all around. You pushed past people with your free arm and squeezed through the gaps between groups of guys with bad haircuts.

Once you made it outside, you took a deep breath. Finally, fresh air that didn't smell like cheap body spray or sweat. Out here, you could actually hear clearly when the phone stopped ringing.

"Hello?" his voice crackled from the other end of the line.

"Hi, Frankie," you said back, maybe a little too happily. You weren't drunk, but you weren't exactly sober either. "Could you maybe come pick me up if you're not doing anything? I was supposed to go home with my friend, but she doesn't wanna leave, and I could uber but-"

"I'll come get you," he cut off your tangent. You heard some shuffling in the background as he presumably got up. "Where are you?"

You paused, peering over your shoulder to the neon sign on the front of the nightclub. "Blackout."

Then there was a pause from him. "I thought you were just going to a few bars," he said.

"It wasn't my idea," you defended. "We were supposed to go to a couple bars, but you know how she is, I told you she never-"

"Alright, don't worry about it," he grumbled. "I'll be there in fifteen."

"Mkay, I'll be out front," you said. "Byeee."

You clicked the red circle on your phone's screen before he could say anything else.

For a moment, you pondered whether you should wait out here or go back inside. This area of town wasn't the best, but the interior of the club didn't feel much better. You sighed and leaned back against the wall. Your phone captured your attention for a few minutes, but when boredom started to set in, you just looked around, observing your company on this strip of sidewalk.

It was then that your eyes landed on a man nearby. He was watching you. That caught your attention.

His hair was dark brown, slicked back. He was around your age and had on an expensive coat with his hands jammed in the pockets. You could feel the weight of his stare shifting up and down your body. And it gave you an idea.

Under normal circumstances and sobriety, you probably would have looked away instantly. Maybe even been a little creeped out. But having gone out tonight with the feeling of neglect as your shadow, you felt a little more interested in the attention.

So you bit your lip and cocked your head, beckoning him over without ever waving your hand.

He played right along with you. Without a word, he slipped away from his group in line and walked over to where you stood.

As he got closer, you could see him with more detail, and he became a person not just a distant figure. Guilt started to well up in you, but you tried drowning it out. You didn't actually want this guy. You just wanted Frank to see him talking to you.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?" he asked.

"Waiting for my ride," you answered, smiling but not too much.

He hummed and nodded. "Leaving already? That's a shame."

"Mhm, I got work in the morning," you lied.

"Oh yeah? Where do you work?"

"I can't tell you that. You're a stranger," you replied with a little added giggle.

He huffed out a laugh. You noticed how his eyes simultaneously trailed along your exposed collarbone.

"Pretty and smart," he teased. "I think I'd be making a huge mistake if I let you go without even asking for your number."

"You didn't even ask for my name yet," you said with a grin.

"Well then, what's your name?" he said, voice lowering slightly.

Before you could get the syllables out, a deep voice answered for you.

"Get in the car."

Your head snapped in the direction of the street to find Frank's car before you and him standing next to the driver's side. You hadn't even noticed him pull up, the sounds of the wheels had melded together with all the others on this street.

The moment you saw his face you regretted this whole idea. Not even just entertaining that guy, but everything, this whole night. If only you could turn back time and just force yourself to tell Frank you were upset.

But you couldn't, so you nervously shuffled towards the passenger door, not even daring to look back at your other suitor.

You got inside and slumped down in your seat. Only seconds later Frank's door slammed shut too. He didn't say a word either, not to you or that other guy.

Your eyes were glued to your thighs as he put the car back in drive and pulled away from the curb. You sat there, body rigid as you waited for him to tear into you. It would be coming any moment now you were sure of it.

But minutes passed. The car made several turns. Lights went from green to red. And not a sound.

He didn't yell, didn't lecture, didn't ask any questions. It was starting to really freak you out inside. Part of you was scared he'd pull up in front of the apartment, dump you out of the car, and then drive out of your life forever.

You dared to look over at him and just saw his eyes straight ahead, his hands clasped tight on the wheel. It was unnerving. Never did you imagine you'd be wishing for Frank to blow up on you, but this silence was unbearable.

Not wanting to start anything while he was driving, you waited till you were down the street from the apartment complex before speaking.

"Frank... I'm really sorry," you said quietly.

He didn't respond, and a long pause stretched from your last word to the moment he put his car in park. The engine went quiet as the lights on the dash faded away. Golden hues from the street lamps outside were the only thing illuminating the two of you.

"Are you now?" he said, and you could tell he was still pissed.

"I really am. I swear, I wasn't with that guy at the club or anything like that. He just came up to me while I was waiting for you, and I didn't wanna blow him off just in case and-"

"You weren't looking too eager to blow him off when I pulled up," he cut you off.

The car stayed silent because you didn't have a response for that. You bit your lip, giving the best set of puppy eyes you could manage. It was all for nothing though because he still wouldn't look at you. This was what you wanted wasn't it? Him jealous? So why did it feel so bad?

It was only after this period of quiet that he turned to look at you. His eyes were dark and stormy. You nearly cowered from a brief glimpse alone.

"Did you think you were being cute tonight?" he asked. "Getting all dressed up, being snippy with me, trying to make me jealous."

"I wasn't-"

"Did you think I'd find that cute?" he said, tone hard as ever.

You bowed your head instead of persisting with denial.

"No..."

"Good 'cause you should know better. I don't have time for shit like that. You wanna play games, you go find yourself a little boy who's willing to put up with 'em."

You just nodded, not having the courage to even verbally respond. It didn't matter to him though. He kept going regardless.

"I'm not gonna tell you this again. Don't think you can pull shit like that with me. I got better things to do, and I'm not gonna spend my time worrying about if you're out letting some other man put his hands on you."

Again, you nodded. The heat of humiliation crept up your neck and into your cheeks.

"When you're with me, you're with me. Got it?"

"Got it," you repeated, so quiet it was barely audible. Your eyes had started to sting a little bit, but you swallowed hard to keep your emotions down.

He went quiet again, and the tension nearly killed you. You weren't sure if he was gonna send you up to the apartment all alone or go with you just to lay in bed without speaking. But luckily, he did neither of those things. Instead he patted his thigh a couple times and looked over at you.

"Come here," he said, his voice low but no longer tense.

Your head popped up a little. "What?" you asked, making sure you heard right.

"Come here," he said again, this time with more command.

You didn't need to be told a third time.

He reached down between his legs to slide the seat back slightly while you climbed over the center console. One of your legs awkwardly swung over his thighs, and the other knocked into the seatbelt receptacle. You still made it work though.

His right hand came to cup your jaw, to force you to make eye contact. With a closer look, he saw your watery eyes.

"Don't give me that. You got yourself into this," he said.

Before you could blink again, he brought you in closer and put a rough kiss on your pout. Your palms landed on his chest. The strong beat of his heart pounded against one.

Soon, his grip fell from your jaw down to your waist. His fingers dug into each of your hips as he tugged your lower body flush against his abdomen.

You gasped at the sudden drag of your center on his lap. Frustration rolled off of him with every movement. His hands found the hem of your sleek little black dress and hiked it up over your hips.

The quick exposure startled you. Pulling back a little, you looked around outside to see if anyone was nearby to see through the windows. His truck wasn't tinted, and even under the cover of night, any wandering eyes would have no trouble seeing what the two of you were up to.

"What're you looking for, baby? Thought you wanted other people to see you in your pretty little outfit," he said as he guided you close again.

His lips latched onto your neck, drawing another gasp from you. Your sensitive skin fell victim to his teeth. He nipped at you before gliding his tongue over the area. You recognized it as an attempt to leave a mark. That sent a little thrill for you. He could act like a hardass all he wanted, but he still got jealous like anyone else.

"I'm just making sure no one's watching..." you said.

“Why? You feelin’ shy now?” he teased.

You just shook your head. Your hands rubbed up and down his biceps onto his shoulders and then up to his neck.

“Just don’t wanna get in trouble,” you said as you nuzzled him.

“The only one you gotta worry about getting in trouble with is me,” he said with a light smack on your ass.

You whined, but the words were enough to clear the possibility of getting a ticket or worse from your mind.

His hand mimicked your own. It slid to the back of your neck. Only he grabbed the skin tight, gave you a little tug to make you look in his eyes.

You let out a soft whimper. His stare was so intense, it was almost enough to bring those tears from your eyes once and for all. You squirmed on his lap without even thinking about it. In bed, there was so much space for evasion. You could roll over, hide your face in the pillows or blankets, even just look at the ceiling or the wall. But in the car, like this, there was just Frank.

His thumb swept back and forth on your chin before he relented and connected his mouth with yours once again.

“You’re too fuckin’ cute,” he mumbled into your mouth. “Even when you’ve been a pain in my ass, I let you get away with it.”

“Cause you know I didn’t mean it, daddy,” you whispered.

That brought a groan out from somewhere deep in his chest.

He tilted his head back against the seat. “Don’t give me that.”

Your hands rubbed up and down his chest. You rocked your hips on him too to go with them. As he gave you more lenience, you felt more comfortable fighting back a little. It was more fun to play along when you knew you weren’t on the verge of a breakup.

“I never wanted you to be mad at me. Just wanted your attention.”

You rolled your hips harder in a wider circle. Between your thighs, you could feel the start of his bulge. It was only half-hard right now, but with a little time, you knew you’d have him ready to go.

“You saying I don’t give you enough attention? That why you act up?” he said. His hands returned to your waist, gripping and massaging the skin of your torso.

“It’s never enough for me cause I want all your attention, all the time. Every single second. Just wanna be with you.”

"I swear you're gonna send me to an early grave,” he said.

You smiled a little, and your hands fell between your two bodies. They went for his fly, but he grabbed one of your wrists and kept you from getting to it.

Immediately, you looked to him with a fresh pout. But he just clicked his tongue at you.

“You think you deserve my dick after tonight?” he asked.

You huffed. “It’s not gonna feel as good for you if you don’t lemme take it out.”

That put a bit of a smile on his face too. “Oh, it’s all for me? Who knew my girl was so selfless?” he mocked.

You nodded proudly, now able to slip free of his grasp and flick open his button. From there, you yanked the zipper down and shimmied around the layers of fabric to get at what you really wanted.

His cock stuck out for you, nearly fully hard by now. With a couple more tugs of your hand, it filled out the rest of the way. You watched it, almost mesmerized. It was warm and flushed, oozing precum for you.

“If you took me inside first, I coulda sucked it for you,” you pouted, looking between him and his cock.

“We’re not gonna be out here all night. I’m sure you’ll still have some making up to do later,” he said simply.

He corralled you against his chest, boosting you enough to pull your panties aside and situate you over his length. This wasn’t gonna be on your terms, you could already tell. He reached down between the two of you, wrapping his thick calloused fingers around himself atop your own hand. With both of you guiding the shaft, you angled it at your entrance and then slid down on it.

“Fuck,” you whined, dropping your head on his shoulder.

He hummed, an agreement of sorts. His hand rubbed up and down your back before he began rocking his hips up into you.

“If this is what you needed, you should’ve just asked,” he said into your ears. “No reason for you to throw a tantrum. You know I always take care of you.”

The rasp of his voice was enough to make you shudder. You gripped onto him a little tighter and started to aide his thrusts, bouncing up and down with what leverage you had in this position.

“Didn’t wanna ask. Wanted you to do it,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? I’ve spoiled you so much you expect me to read your mind now?”

All you could do was whine at that. You knew what you meant, and it wasn’t so petulant. There was just no other way you could articulate it at present.

You grabbed onto his shoulders, digging your fingers into the muscles there. “Shut up,” you choked out. You threw your head back as you began to bounce faster.

He gave you a harsh smack on the ass, much harder than before. This time it left a lingering sting.

“Watch your attitude. You’re not off the hook yet.”

You just kept riding him. Up and down, up and down. You were sure the car was rocking by now. Creaking and shaking under that dingy streetlamp. That didn’t matter to you. At this point, you didn’t care if someone saw. You wouldn’t care if a crowd stopped to watch. Not when you felt this good. Not when you were so close.

“Daddy, fuck, can I please cum? Pretty please?” you asked.

“Do you think you deserve it?” he asked for the second time tonight.

His hand slipped down and rubbed at your clit. The rough skin of his fingertips on your little velvet bud got you to squeal. Your hips bucked on instinct, nearly knocking your knee into the door.

“Um… Uh…” you stammered, trying to act hesitant. If you seemed remorseful, he might be more inclined to reward you. That was your thought process anyways.

“Simple question, sweetheart.” His fingers didn’t stop swirling on your bundle of nerves.

“Yeah! I do! Cause I’m really really really sorry, and I love you so so so fucking much. And you’re the only one who can make me cum like this. Can’t even think of anyone else when you make me cum,” you said, practically babbling.

Had your head been upright and your vision focused on him, you could have seen the fondness for you in his expression. But your head was still back facing the ceiling, and your eyes were still drooping with ecstasy, so you missed that and just heard him say “alright. I guess you deserve it.”

You let out a moan loud enough to pierce the interior of the car. Your head popped back up now to lay a sloppy kiss on his lips. “Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered before you felt the first wave of release.

That hot coil of pleasure inside you snapped. You whined and rode your way through it. Nothing could stop you from moving. You kept going and going, quivering thighs and all.

He spilled himself inside you as well somewhere during your high. You felt it vaguely, but the sensation was pretty muted compared to everything else going on.

You finally slowed down and then came to a stop when you were reaching the end of your descent. Once you’d fully come down, you slumped against his chest, your own breaths coming out ragged.

He squeezed you close without a word, planted a quiet kiss on your head.

“I love you too,” he mumbled.

You nuzzled his chest once more, saying sorry without words. It was enough for Frank though.

He slid himself out of you and fixed your clothes. You lazily made sure everything was in place before he popped open the car door and helped you out.

Your legs felt wobbly as they held you up on the asphalt, but you managed to stay upright till he was out too. His hand landed on your ass, giving it a pat. You happily tucked yourself to his side before the both of you began walking towards the apartment building.

[uhuhmaries]

So i have an ask. I am obsessed with Harry's hands.

I go feral even watching him in an interview where he's talking with his hands.

Not even sure if you're taking requests, but if you ever wanted to write something with reader being so distracted with watching harry do normal, everyday things with his hands. Like driving, cooking, turning pages in a book, guitar, piano, etc and he knows what it does to you, so he is over does it on purpose cause it inspires dirty thoughts for both of you. Ring clad once or twice too cause 🫦💦

Love your writing! ♥️

BAE I GET IT OMG SORRY IF THIS IS RUSTY BC IM SPEEDING

Hands On | H.S.

It starts like it always does—with his hands.

You should be reading. Or helping with the groceries. Or something. But you’re sitting at the island, legs crossed tightly, watching Harry slice a ripe fig open with the kind of slow precision that makes your mouth go dry.

He’s being theatrical today. You can tell. He always is when he knows you’re watching. He leans his hip against the counter, forearm flexing as he drags the knife through the skin, thumb pressing down to spread the flesh open. His rings glint in the sunlight, sticky juice slipping past the crease of his knuckle.

And then—of course—his fingers go in.

You suck in a breath. “Harry.”

“Hmm?” His tone is casual. Too casual. But his eyes flash to yours and he’s smirking now—slow and teasing. “You alright over there, darling? Bit flushed.”

“You know what you’re doing.”

He raises a brow and slides his fingers deeper into the halved fig, twisting, pulling gently, teasing the core apart like it’s nothing. “Just makin’ lunch.”

“Are you?”

He hums, brings the fruit to his mouth and sucks the juice off his fingers, ring still wet. You shift in your seat, thighs clenching, heat blooming low in your belly.

“You’ve been watching me all morning,” he says softly, still licking. “First in the car, then when I was tuning the guitar. Now this. You’re obsessed.”

You don’t deny it. Can’t. He’s right.

There’s something about the way he moves—how his fingers curve around the steering wheel like they’d fit just as easily inside of you. How he turns pages with a lazy drag of his thumb, tapping the spine like he’s testing your patience. Even the way he stirs coffee with his rings catching the light, wrist flicking, and all that.... makes you wet.

“You like when I use my hands, don’t you?” He murmurs, setting the knife down and walking toward you, slow. Intentional. “Want me to fuck you with them while you watch?”

You nod, breath catching. But of course, he doesn’t touch you. Yet.

Instead, he reaches for another piece of fruit—a peach this time—and sinks his thumb into the skin until it splits. “You ever see yourself like this?” He asks, tearing it apart, exposing the soft insides. “Dripping. Gaping. Just waiting.”

You’re breathing hard now. You shift in the seat again, and your skirt rides up just a little too high. His eyes drop.

“Take your panties off.”

Your body reacts before your brain catches up. You push them down under your skirt and toss them onto the counter. Harry doesn’t even flinch. He dips two fingers into the fruit, dragging the sticky pulp outward, then pushes them back in slowly, curling.

Your thighs tremble.

“Open your legs for me, love.”

You do, legs parting wide, and the cool air rushes against your soaked folds.

“Touch yourself.”

He doesn’t even have to ask twice. Your fingers slide through your folds, finding your clit. The second you circle it, you moan.

He watches you like a man starving.

“God, you’re already soaked.” His voice is ragged. His other hand fists at his side, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t touch you yet. Just watches as you rub slow circles, hips bucking forward with each pass. “This what my fingers do to you, baby? This what you think about when I’m just livin’?”

“Yes,” you gasp.

You flick your clit faster, wetter now, thighs twitching. The noises from your cunt are obscene, mixing with your breathy moans and the sticky squish of fruit between Harry’s fingers.

“I want your hand on me—”

“Shhh,” he cuts you off. “You don’t get to ask yet. Not until I’m done with this.”

And with that, he sinks his mouth into the ruined peach, tongue dragging through the center, slow and messy and filthy.You nearly come right there.

“Fuck,” you cry, hand trembling between your legs.

Harry licks his lips. “Now you look like something I wanna eat.”

He walks to you, calm and deliberate, takes your hand from between your legs and licks your fingers one by one, eyes locked on yours. “You want my hand now, baby? Hmm?”

You nod like it’s the only thing you know how to do.

He drags a bar stool out and drops to his knees in front of you, hiking your skirt up. “Put your legs on the counter.”

Your heels knock against the wood as you lift, spreading wider than before. He drags one long, ringed finger through your slick and groans, deep in his throat. “This pussy,” he mutters, “so goddamn pretty.”

And then he sinks two fingers in at once, thick and slow. You clench around him instantly.

“Greedy little thing,” he smirks, twisting his wrist as he thrusts, knuckles deep. “You’re sucking me in like you missed it.”

“I did,” you gasp, “Harry—”

He cuts you off with his mouth on your thigh, teeth grazing the flesh before biting down hard enough to leave a mark. You jolt.

“M’gonna ruin you,” he growls. “Wanna see you make a mess while I work this cunt.”

His fingers speed up. You’re already close, hands clawing at the edge of the counter, jaw slack, body twitching with every curl. He’s watching your face, completely obsessed.

Then—his mouth is on your clit, and everything explodes.

You scream his name. Loud. High-pitched. Over and over as your orgasm rips through you, wave after wave crashing as he sucks and pumps and refuses to stop.

When it finally fades, you slump forward, breathing hard.

But Harry doesn’t let up. He stands, fingers still coated in your slick, and drags them down your cheek, across your lips, into your mouth.

“Again,” he says. “You’ve got another one in you, don’t you?”

You nod weakly.

He grins and lifts you off the stool like you weigh nothing, carrying you to the bedroom with one arm under your thighs and the other teasing your nipple until it hardens against your shirt.

He lays you on the bed, climbs between your legs, and starts again.

This time, he’s not gentle.

This time, he marks every inch of your skin with his mouth and fingers, ring prints and teeth bruises blooming like tattoos across your thighs, your breasts, your hips.

“You think about my hands all day?” he rasps. “From now on, I want you thinking about this—me. Here. Ruining you.”

And then he fucks you with his fingers until you lose count of your orgasms, and the only thing left in your mind is the way he touches you—like he owns you.

Because, honestly? He does.

You don’t know how long you’ve been writhing under his touch—his mouth, his hands, the rough drag of his rings against your skin. But the room smells like sex and fruit, and your thighs are sticky with slick and spit and your own high, messy release.

Harry crawls up your body slowly, his fingers still glistening with you. He sucks them clean, one by one, with that look in his eyes like he’s about to ruin you all over again. His chest brushes yours. His cock, hard and leaking, rests heavy against your inner thigh.

“You want more, baby?” He whispers, nose brushing yours. “Wanna feel me inside?”

You whimper. Nod frantically.

He grins fucking devil-like and sits back on his knees. “Turn over for me. Let me take my time with you.”

You flip onto your stomach, hips lifting into the air on instinct, arching your back so your ass is on full display for him. You feel his hands —those damn hands— spread your cheeks open, thumbs dragging through your folds.

“So wet for me still,” he murmurs, dragging his cock through the mess, tapping your clit with the flushed head. “Messy little thing. All this just from my fingers?”

“Please, Harry,” you gasp. “Need you inside.”

He hums like he’s thinking. You look back over your shoulder just in time to see him spit and stroke it over his cock, mixing with your slick. He lines up behind you and grabs your hips, rings cold and firm against your skin.

Then—he pushes in.

Slow. Heavy. Stretching you inch by inch until he bottoms out with a low, guttural moan. Your mouth falls open. He fills you so deep you feel dizzy, walls fluttering around him, still sensitive from before.

“Fuck—so tight,” he hisses, rocking his hips once, then holding still. “You feel that? That’s what happens when you tease yourself over my hands all day. Now you’re full of me.”

You grip the sheets, nails digging in as he pulls back and thrusts again—deep and deliberate.

“Look at you,” he pants, leaning forward to kiss the back of your neck. “Takin’ me so well. Gonna keep fuckin’ you until all you can think about is this.”

He sets a rhythm— slow at first, torturous, grinding deep with each stroke so you feel every inch. One of his hands grips your shoulder, the other slides under your body, fingers finding your clit again.

You sob at the contact. It’s too much—too good. He doesn’t stop.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he coos, voice thick and hoarse. “Rub that little clit for me while I fuck you. Let me see you come again.”

You do. Desperate, mindless, rolling your hips back onto him as he drives into you harder now—no more teasing. Just rough, wet slaps echoing through the room as his cock pounds into you, one hand curled around your throat now, the other gripping your hip tight enough to bruise.

He leans over, mouth at your ear. “Where do you want it?” he rasps. “Where should I come? Inside this pretty pussy? Fill you up?”

You choke out a yes.

His thrusts go erratic. You know he’s close. And just when you think he’s going to finish—he pulls out. You whimper, empty and shaking, but he flips you onto your back before you can protest.

“I wanna see your face,” he mutters, pushing back inside in one rough thrust. “When you fall apart for me.”

Your head tilts back, eyes rolling as his hand slides around your throat with his rings cool against your flushed skin, his grip firm but measured, just enough to make your pulse stutter. The other hand clamps down on your hip, grounding you as he drives into you with rough, unrelenting thrusts—loud, raw, and possessive, like he’s staking his claim deep inside you.

And when you come again—your walls fluttering, back arching, mouth wide open—he growls your name and spills inside you, cock twitching deep, warmth flooding your cunt.

He doesn’t pull out.

Just grinds in slow, fucking it into you, not letting a drop go to waste.

“Fuck,” he pants, collapsing onto your chest. “Look at the mess you made me make.”

You’re both slick and shaking and sweaty, his hand still on your throat, thumb stroking your jaw as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“You’re never looking at my hands the same way again,” he whispers, smug. “Or fruit.”

You laugh, breathless. And then he starts to move again.

⋆˙⟡ —⋆˙⟡ —⋆˙⟡ —⋆˙⟡ —⋆˙⟡ —⋆˙⟡ —⋆˙⟡

KIWIS STRAWBERRIES WATERMELON whatever he wants

[viktateapot]

ALMOST LIKE A FATHER

DAMIAN WAYNE X READER (CAT GIRL)

As much as Damian hated the fact, he was the spitting image of his father regardless of whatever path he chose to walk. From the narrow eyes and sharp scowl, to the cheekbones and natural charm, to his taste in women…

"Stand down," he tells the cat burglar, trying but failing to hide the burning attraction, the feel of the high.

He thinks it's the tight leather, or the thrill of finding an equal foe. Or maybe it was the fact that bats are just simply meant for cats.

You were standing behind him.

He feels your presence before he even sees you. It's something about the air changing. The way the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Don't be such a bore, Robin," you carefully placed your hand on his side and slowly moved it towards his abs.

His breath hitches slightly as your hand makes contact with his side, the leather of his suit warm to the touch. He tries to maintain his composure, but the way your fingers slowly creep across his abs sends a shiver down his spine. He turns his head slightly, his piercing gaze meeting yours.

"I should throw you off the roof for being this reckless," he whispers, though his tone is more teasing than threatening. His hand moves to cover yours, trapping it against his abdomen. The tension between them is palpable – danger mixed with desire, two predators circling each other.

"Yes, come on, my little bird, why are you so tense?" You licked his neck from the curve of his neck to the lobe of his ear.

A sharp inhale escapes him as your tongue traces a path up his neck. His hand on yours tightens reflexively, fingers digging into the leather of his suit. A shudder runs through him as you reach his ear lobe, biting down gently before soothing it with another flick.

"You know," he says, his voice low and husky, "most people would be afraid of pushing me this far." He turns his head more fully towards you, giving you better access to his neck while keeping your hand trapped against him. His breath is ragged, betraying his attempt to maintain control.

"But you like it, Robin," you purred in his ear, nibbling on the lobe and then licking the curve of the ear.

His eyes close briefly, his jaw tightens. "Too damn much," he mutters. Your tongue plunging in and out of his ear makes his hips jerk slightly. He realizes that you're dangerously good at this game - teasing, seducing.

You bury your face in the curve of his neck "I love you too"

His body relaxes slightly at your words. He loves when you get like this - sweet, innocent. His hand covers yours again, spreading your fingers wider so they splay across his abs. He swallows hard as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, your breath tickling him.

"If you keep being cute like this" he says, his voice softer now, "I'm going to fuck you right here on this roof." He presses your hand down harder against his stomach.

"It's unlikely, so your father is probably flying around the rooftops of Gotham."

A low chuckle escapes him at your words. He leans back slightly into your touch, enjoying the feel of your body pressed against his back. "He'd kill me if he knew I was letting you do this."

"And why is that?" you asked, kissing him behind the ear.

"He thinks you're a dangerous distraction," he says, his voice turning a bit defensive. He tilts his head to the side, giving you better access. "But he doesn't understand… you're the only one who makes me feel alive." His hand slides up your arm, his touch gentle.

"Doesn't his dangerous adventures with Selina Kyle count?" you asked, pressing your nose against the back of his ear.

He lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head slightly. "That's different. Selina is… well, she's Selina. She knows how to handle him." He pauses for a moment, enjoying the sensation of your nose against his ear.

"Come home with me, Robin," you purred in his ear, nibbling on the lobe and then licking the curve of the ear.

His hips jerk slightly again. Damn, you know exactly what you're doing. "You try to seduce me like this when I'm supposed to be protecting Gotham?" He mutters, his voice dropping lower. He swallows hard as your tongue plunges into his ear again. "Jesus…"

"Come on, my little bird, say ""yes""!"

He groans softly at the nickname, his body relaxing further into your touch. You know he loves it when you call him that. "Fuck," he breathes out. "If I go back to your place, I'm not leaving until morning." *He presses his hips back against you slightly.

Your hand slid from his abs down his body.

His stomach tightens as your hand slides down past his abs, lower and lower. He spreads his legs slightly wider without even realizing it. "Baby..." He warns softly. He knows where your hand is going, and it's making him hard again.

You licked his neck again, from the curve to the lobe of his ear, and your hand reached the right place

His breath catches when your hand reaches its destination. He's already aroused again, and his suit pants barely conceal the erection you've caused. As you lick his neck and ear, he loses control, and your hand wraps around him through the fabric.

He lets out a low moan, his head falling back against your shoulder. "Fuck," he whispers again. He's barely holding himself together right now.* "We should go back to your place..." His hips move slightly against your hand. Your hand squeezed him gently through the fabric

His breath catches, and he lets out a soft moan. He can't help but thrust his hips forward slightly, pressing harder against your hand. "Fuck," he mutters under his breath. His hands instinctively reach down, gripping yours through the fabric.

He turns his head suddenly and captures your lips in a rough kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips aggressively. His hand covers yours completely, pressing it harder against his erection. "Stop teasing and get me out of these pants," he demands between kisses.

He groans into your mouth as you begin to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He breaks the kiss only to pant heavily against your lips, his eyes closed tightly. He lifts his hips slightly to help you slide his pants down further.

You walked around him and stood in front of his face, then knelt down.

His eyes snap open and lock onto yours as you kneel down in front of him. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. His hands automatically go to your hair, gripping it gently but firmly. He's never been one for patience or gentleness. "Fuck..."

His hips jerk slightly as you take him in your hands without warning. He's bare now, his pants pooled around his thighs. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, his jaw tight. You lick your lips slowly, making the head of his erection twitch. "Baby..." He warns softly.

Before he can finish his warning, you lean forward and take him into your mouth. He lets out a loud groan, his fingers tightening in your hair almost painfully. He hits the back of your throat immediately because he's so hard and you took him deep. "Shit..." He curses loudly.

His hips start moving slightly on their own, feeding you his length slowly. He watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, his jaw tight. He's never had a woman take him this deep so easily. He tests you by pushing deeper suddenly, checking your reflex. You swallow instead of gagging.

He lets out a surprised curse. He wasn't expecting you to handle him like this. He tests you again by grabbing your hair harder and pushing deeper. You hum softly, taking him effortlessly. He realizes you have no issue deepthroating him. "Baby..."

His hips are moving forward. "Fuck, I'm going to come," he growls in a voice hoarse with desire. He can feel his arousal building quickly, too quickly. "Baby, stop... I'm going to..." He stops.

He doesn't even finish his sentence before he comes hard into your mouth with a loud groan of pleasure. His body shudders violently as he releases all his tension through this orgasm. He keeps hold of your hair until every last drop is gone then pulls away slightly so that he can look down at you...

"My little bird, we're still on the roof of Gotham"

He chuckles breathlessly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he pulls up his pants and adjusts himself. "And my little bird just made me lose control right here on top of Gotham," he says with a smirk, reaching down to help you up.

He pulls you close once you're standing, wrapping his arms around your waist. He kisses you deeply, tasting himself on your lips. "I'm going to have to reward you for that later," he whispers against your mouth before kissing you again.

[fandom-geek17]

All the dreams of you: Part 2

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Fem!Doctor!Reader

Summary: Bob takes you on your first date, but things doesn't end the way he originally planned, wink wink! A continuation of this fic.

CW: 18+ MDNI! Smut. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it). Oral sex (fem receiving), dry humping, dirty talk, slight praise kink, a hint of cock-warming, Bob has a thing for heels. A LOT of horny Bob and horny Reader. Jake calls a drunk Fanboy a 'heap of tequila'. Alcohol consumption, Bob and Reader are not drunk, but other people are. Some angst in the beginning, but mostly fluff.

Author's note: This was supposed to be a cute, short final part of this series, 3-4k words at most. Then I got carried away. Anywho... Please read, like, reblog and comment! It looks like Bob Floyd is winning by a landslide in this poll. So I'll probably write him again next ;)

Word count: 9375

The second you and Bob broke apart; you could feel the eyes of Cyclone and Warlock boring into the back of your neck.

Shit…

Slowly, you turned around. Their expressions were unreadable. You could feel the redness creeping up your neck, but you refused to back down. The atmosphere around the tarmac stiffened as Cyclone slowly cleared his throat. Bob stepped up closer to you, his hand clasping yours. His warmth spread through you, calming the nerves that took hold of you again.

Warlock and Cyclone exchanged a look before turning back to look at you. “We’ll talk about this later” Cyclone muttered, walking back towards the control room.

Bob let out a long sigh, squeezing your fingers. “It’s going to be okay” he murmured.

“Yeah” you answered, even though you were far from sure.

XXX

By some miracle, or maybe pure stupidity, Maverick and Rooster had not only survived their fall from a plane, they had also managed sneak onto an enemy base and steal their plane, fly it back, and survive a dogfight. Okay, yes, Hangman did save their asses, as he pointed out about ten times over the coming evening.

Everything had turned out okay, everyone was alive and safe. The celebration at the Hard Deck that night was beyond anything you’d seen there. People sang, shouted, danced, celebrated. The drinks were flowing, songs played at an ear-splitting level. Rooster and Phoenix sang karaoke until 3 am, arms around each other.

You and Bob didn’t move more than a few feet from each other all night. His arm was glued to the back of your chair, alternating between letting his hand run up and down your arm and stroking your shoulder. His touch was so electrifying, sending shocks of warmth through you. You leaned your head on his shoulder as often as you could, just enjoying knowing you could. At least for now.

“Are you worried?” he’d asked quietly towards the end of the night as people finally started to leave. “About what they’ll say?”

“A bit…” you sighed.

“I’m not.” He said it so truthfully, with such conviction in his eyes, you couldn’t help but fall a little harder. “I don’t care what they say. I just want you.”

Whether your knees went all weak due to him or all the alcohol, you weren’t completely sure. Either way you leaned your forehead on his shoulder and sighed. His hands came to rest around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I am worried, but not as much as I want you. They can say whatever they want.”

“Come on, lovebirds!” Jake called from the entrance where he and Coyote were carrying a very drunk Fanboy. “Call it a night, already! I need help carrying this heap of tequila.”

Bob snorted. “Not strong enough?” he questioned in that very Bob way.

Jake looked both amused and offended at the same time. “Not sober enough, tweener! Now let’s go!”

You huffed loudly. “I guess you better go…”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. First for the court martial–”

“God, don’t call it that!” you groaned, covering your face with your hands.

“Then… For the best part of my day.”

A goofy smile played on your lips, butterflies chasing each other in your belly. “I can’t wait.”

XXX

Bob barely had to knock before the two of you were ushered into the meeting room. Cyclone and Warlock were already sitting down with a woman you vaguely recognized from HR. They had been quietly whispering amongst each other, but as soon as the two of you stepped foot inside, the voices quieted. Ironically, the voices of doom inside your mind grew even louder.

“Sit down, please” Cyclone instructed, face stony and unreadable.

Bob gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before you sat down. The nerves coiled in your belly, but you tried to stay composed, with an open, neutral expression, and not like someone who could easily walk out of here without a job. Worse, with some kind of report on her ass and with her medical license in danger for getting involved with a patient.

Warlock cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair, fingers interlacing over his stomach. “So” he started, eyes darting between the two of you like he was a parent about to lecture two teenagers caught in bed. Worst part, the analogy made too much sense. “Would either of you care to explain why Dr. Y/L/N was caught getting involved with a patient in broad daylight?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, heart thundering behind your ribcage. Your throat was drier than the Sahara Desert, and you were just about to open your mouth to try and answer when Bob beat you to it.

“First of all, sir, I would like to have it formally stated that I kissed her. Not the other way around.”

His two bosses exchanged a look as the HR lady jotted something down. Great… Now she was taking notes…

“Alright” Cyclone continued. “Has anything like this happened before yesterday?”

“No, sir” you answered honestly. Technically, it hadn’t. That kiss you were so tempted by in the infirmary never technically occurred.

Bob cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. He looked surprisingly composed for someone so easily flustered. But maybe that was the navy man in him taking over. “Nothing physical has happened between us, no. I bought Y/N flowers for her birthday, but we weren’t dating. Nothing had happened.” The two older men exchanged a look again, but this time you swore there was something more there, something…amused?

“Are you dating now?” Warlock asked, rubbing his chin.

Bob looked at you, a small smile playing on his lips. What even was the answer when you hadn’t even gone on a first date yet? “I asked her out to dinner before the mission” Bob answered, not taking his eyes off you. “She didn’t say yes until yesterday. So, I suppose the answer is no.”

“It depends on how well he behaves tonight” you tried, lamely going for some humor to lighten the mood.

To your surprise, it worked. Both men chuckled heartily, and Bob blushed slightly.

“Cheryl?” Cyclone addressed the lady from HR for the first time. She looked up from her notes. There was that weird smile on her face that people from HR always had. Like you could never be too sure on who’s side they were going to be on.

“We’ll transfer Lieutenant Floyd’s primary care to Dr. Andrews” she said, making another note. “Since this is so new and you technically haven’t broken any rules by hiding a relationship between a doctor and a patient, we’ll give you two months to decide whether you want to move forward with this relationship. If you do, you’ll need to formally declare it. Is everyone happy with that?”

You sat there, stunned, as the words replayed in your mind.

That was it?

Where was the judgement? The fire and brimstone? Where was the part where she walked out without a job? Transfer Bob’s care. Two months. Formally declare… That was it? No. This was too good to be true, it had to be.

“That’s it?” you questioned quietly, glancing at Cheryl for confirmation.

“For now” she confirmed, placing her stack of papers on the table.

“Do either of you have any questions for us?” Cyclone asked, leaning forward, placing his interlaced fingers on the table.

Bob’s hand flexed underneath the table, something content flashing across his face. “I don’t.”

Did you have any questions? No, not really? It just seemed so unreal that you could walk out of here with everything you wanted, everything you dreamed of. Like something out of a fairytale.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Well then” Cyclone said, making an effort to stand up. “You’re dismissed. Lieutenant Floyd, you along with the rest of your squad are given the day off to rest. You’re expected at 7 am tomorrow with the rest for debrief on the mission.”

“Yes, sir” Bob answered, standing up immediately, posture rigid.

“Dr. Y/L/N, you weren’t scheduled to work for the upcoming two days. We will see you bright and early in two days time.”

“Yes, sir” you imitated Bob, albeit not with the same military enthusiasm, more like someone slowly waking up from a dream.

Bob’s hand landed on the small of your back as he guided you out of the room. The warmth from him seeped through the thin material of your blouse, spreading like a balm, soothing and reassuring. Your stomach swooped like on a rollercoaster as your mind once again realized what all of this meant.

You were free! The two of you could do this! You could date! Find each other, no secrets, no sneaking around. Just you.

You managed to walk down half the corridor before all instincts took over. Grabbing hold of the lapels of his shirt, you pushed Bob against the wall and pressed your lips to his. A surprised ‘oumf’ left Bob in a huff as his hands found your waist, leaning into the kiss. Butterflies took flight inside you, tickling every inch of your body as your lips moved against his.

Bob’s grip on you tightened as the tip of his tongue gently caressed your bottom lip. Warmth flooded you at the sensation and you opened your mouth for him. His tongue had just started exploring your mouth with assuredness thar surprised you when the sound of people walking broke you out of your spell.

You pulled back just as a small group of aviators in training entered the corridor. Thankfully, they seemed too focused on their own conversation to notice the flush decorating the both of you, your heaving breaths, or the way Bob strategically placed his hands in front of his crotch.

“Pinch me” you whispered when the group had disappeared.

Bob chuckled, but gently grabbed a piece of skin on your arm and squeezed. The pain seared quickly before ebbing away, leaving only the confirmation that this was, in fact, real.

A stupid, giddy smile broke out across your face. “I thought I was walking out of there without a job” you confessed breathlessly, placing your hands on your hips. A incredulous laugh escaped you. “Like, I was really fucking sure of it!”

“But we’re okay” Bob assured you, hand coming to rest on your arm.

“We are!” you agreed, still smiling. “I’m really glad everything worked out.” It came out like a murmur, but so sincere, it made your heart hurt at your own confession.

“Me, too.” Bob gave you that small, shy smile that was so typically him. His eyes were alight with sparkles as he looked at you from under his glasses.

“And I’m really glad you kissed me.”

Bob laughed, quietly, like a giggle almost and his smile widened. “So am I.”

XXX

He’d given you his number before you parted, and you’d given him his address to pick you up. You lived in a small cottage near the water on Coronado. It had cost a lot, and you had lived on instant noodles for months after buying it. But it was worth it. You had bought it before taking the job on Top Gun, when you were still working as an ER resident at the hospital in San Diego. Your parents had helped somewhat with the costs, and you had been so incredibly grateful. Your aunt and uncle that also lived in the city donated some of their furniture to you. Some were bought from thrift shops. Some were even part of your old childhood bedroom.

The result was a mismatched but cozy home filled with nostalgia and care. There was a small deck out back, looking out towards the beach. The patio furniture was donated by an old neighbor. They had been old, beaten up, the paint chipping and the cushions in desperate need of reupholstering. You and your dad had spent an entire weekend fixing them up. It was small details like that that made you so proud of your home, even if it wasn’t the fanciest.

Taylor Swift was gently playing on your wireless speaker, filling the bathroom with an echo of hopeful love and fitting metaphors. A thin mist of steam was still clinging to the tiles, and the countertop was littered with makeup and jewelry. You had just finished applying a layer of lipstick when the doorbell rang.

Hmm…

A glance at your phone told you it was only 6:30. Bob wasn’t due to pick you up until 7 pm. You turned off the music and went to answer.

And yep, there he was. Standing on the front steps of your cottage, dressed so well in a pair of dark grey slacks and a dress shirt the same color as his eyes. His hair had been styled a bit more relaxed than when he was on base, a few strands falling and curling over his forehead. His glasses reflected the sunlight, lighting up his entire face as he stood there with a nervous grin on his face.

God, he was so hot. All done up, proper and perfect, yet there was this energy to him. You’d felt it at the Hard Deck when he leaned in, you felt it when you kissed him in the corridor earlier today. Something told you that there was more to Bob Floyd than the sweet, proper, innocent WSO everyone treated him as. And you couldn’t wait to find out.

As soon as you opened the door, the air caught in Bob’s throat. You were so incredibly stunning, it was actually unfair. Your hair was free and flowing, makeup done perfectly, slightly darker than he was used to, the white dress contrasting beautifully against your sun-kissed skin. The thin fabric clung to your breasts and waist before spilling out in a flowing skirt skimming halfway down your thighs. It was simple yet gorgeous, perfect for the afternoon sun. He’d just have to make sure he didn’t accidentally splash any red sauce later.

You were still barefoot, toenails painted some kind of iridescent white or pink color. Really fucking cute. He forced himself to not stare at the way your tits almost spilled out of your dress and look you in the eye as he spoke.

“I know I’m early” he said, his tone slightly breathless. “I got ready much earlier than I thought I would. Then I couldn’t stop pacing around my living room because I was just to fucking nervous, and I couldn’t sit still. I just- I had to see you.” He was rambling and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. All the blood had left his brain.

But you just laughed, surprised and sweet, tilting your head to look at him. Those plush lips of yours caught between your teeth as you stared him up and down.

He clumsily held out the bouquet of mixed summer flowers in his hand, feeling the sweat gather between his hand and the wax paper wrapping. “These are for you.”

Your eyes lit up at the sight of them, a knowing tilt to your smile. “You keep buying me flowers” you commented, but took them gratefully, leaning down to smell their sweet fragrance.

Bob smiled nervously, looking down at his shoes, biting his lip slightly. “You deserve it.”

“Thank you. That’s sweet” you told him, stepping aside, gesturing for him to enter. “I’m not completely ready yet, but please, come in.”

His heart thudded harshly in his chest as he followed you inside. The first thing to hit him was the scent. It was a combination of you, your perfume, your handcream, but also something homey. Like a mix of laundry detergent, warm spices and the earthiness of the giant plant he could just make out in the living room.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you said when you entered the living room, gesturing towards the cream-colored couch. “I’ll be right back.”

As you disappeared up the stairs, Bob took the chance to look around the space. It was small, but really lived in, with mismatched furniture that somehow still worked together. The coffee table and TV bench seemed to be from the same set, both an off-white color. Then the bookshelf was made with a natural pale wood color, littered with worn paperbacks and hard spines. Medical textbooks, romance novels, fantasy books, some YA he remembered reading as a teenager, and a couple of mystery novels. There was also an array of knick-knacks placed amongst the books. Small statues, some childhood toys, family photos.

There were a lot of plants lining the windowsill, a basil plant, some flowers, and a cactus. The door to the patio was slightly ajar, letting in the afternoon breeze. It provided a small relief to the nervous sweat that was gathering at the nape of his neck and on his palms. He wondered what the rest of the house looked like. If it was as personal as in here.

He could hear you coming down the stairs and immediately straightened up, trying to look like he hadn’t just snooped.

“You know” you said brightly. “Since you’re here, you could actually help me with something.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bob wondered, feeling his throat dry up. You had added a necklace to the outfit now, a thin golden chain with three small stones hanging off it. It was simple, but fuck if it didn’t draw his attention back to your tits. He cleared his throat. “With what?”

You blushed slightly. “It’s a little silly, but I couldn’t decide on which shoes to wear with this dress. I’ve narrowed it down to two, but now I can’t choose. Could I show them to you?”

“Sure” Bob answered, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible. If you were about to dress up in different heels for him, he might just combust.

You smiled affectionately before tottering off to grab them. He could hear you shuffle about a bit before returning, shoes now on. Oh God… It’s like the universe just knew what you in heels did to him. You strutted into the living room wearing a pair of white platform pumps, made with some kind of shimmering material that reminded him of the nail polish on your toes.

The matched really well with the dress, and they made your legs look spectacular, muscles working as you took a lap around the room in them.

“So, this is the first pair” you said, casting a glance at him over your shoulder. “I really like them, and they go well with the dress.” You sighed, looking down at them as you shifted your foot in different directions. “But I also really like the other ones.”

Bob couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t talk. There was no way he was going last the entire night. All he could think about you, looking so good, smelling so divine, he wanted to consume you. All he could do was watch, transfixed with your beauty.

“I’ll put the other pair on so you can see” you said brightly before leaving again.

And…wow! Yeah, those were the ones. Nude-colored, mocha, one of those tapering heels, crossing straps closed with golden buckles, a glittering golden thread woven into the fabric. They looked too good. Those were the kinds of heels he’d insist you keep on as he fucked you into the mattress. Proper fuck-me heels.

“Those ones” he rasped out, voice thick with desire, rasping like a man who hadn’t had something to drink in days. His trousers were uncomfortably tight, his dick swelling at an alarming rate.

You caught the shift in his voice, looking at him with an intensity in your eyes that made his stomach swoop. “Yeah? You like ‘em?” There was a teasing tilt to your words, like you knew exactly what you were doing.

Bob nodded, throat tight, body humming with desire. “Mhm… They’re perfect.”

“Okay” you said with finality. “These ones it is.” You leaned against the edge of the couch, crossing your arms over your chest, your tits squeezing together. “You need some water, Bob?”

Water? “Uhm, no thank you?” he said slowly, feeling the air thicken in the room. “Why?”

You shrugged, a little too casually, looking like you were holding back a laugh. “You seem thirsty, is all…”

Oh, he was thirsty, all right. Just not for water. But this was not the time to yank you over his shoulder and carry you upstairs. Instead, he glanced at the watch on his wrist. It was time. Good. He needed a distraction, something to keep him from botching this date by not even making it to the restaurant.

He stood up. He was supposed to tell you that his car was waiting outside, then guide you like a gentleman out the door. Instead, he walked up to you like a dog following a scent, immediate, focused. He reached up, sighing heavily with desire as your perfume invaded him, surrounding him like a thick blanket.

His hand gently caressed the side of your face. The way you leaned into his touch sent his entire world spinning off its axis. Your skin was so soft beneath his fingers, and he so desperately wanted to see if you tasted as good as you smelled.

Come on, a voice in the back of his mind said. Get a grip!

“We should go” he whispered against your lips. “Before we lose our reservation.” It was a tug of war in his mind between doing the honorable thing by taking you out properly and doing the depraved, wanton thing by just saying fuck it. Literally.

You nodded slowly, but it was dazed, like you were picturing the exact same thing he was. “Yeah… We probably should.” Your hand travelled up his forearm before stopping at his wrist, holding just below where his hand cupped your face. Your eyes closed, seemingly on instinct as your breaths mingled.

Pure, intoxicating lust ran through Bob’s veins, but he summoned the last bit of willpower he had left and stepped back. Taking a deep, sobering breath, he gestured for you to walk ahead. You gave him a small, teasing smile. A silent promise of ‘later’ seemed to hang in the air as the two of you stepped out of your house and you locked the door.

The car ride was smooth, songs playing lowly on the radio, air conditioning blasting gratefully against his body, cooling the fire inside him until it was just a low simmer. This was the right thing to do. He wasn’t a caveman that pulled women into the bedroom on the first date, especially without even taking them out to dinner first. His mama raised him to be better than that. And he was.

Surely, he was.

“So, where are we going?” you asked brightly, fiddling with the clasp of your clutch.

For some reason, that stupid, stubborn blush returned to his cheeks. He turned the air-con up. “Uh- I made us reservations at Nonna Vittoria’s.” Was it cheesy to take a girl to his favorite restaurant on the first date? Probably. Maybe that’s why he was blushing so hard. But he couldn’t think of anywhere else to take you.

But you gasped, eyes lighting up in excitement. “No way! I love that place! I haven’t been in forever. Not since my friend’s birthday last year.”

“Oh” Bob breathed out slowly. “Good. That’s… Yeah. That’s great.”

You hummed in agreement, smiling morphing into something knowing, something sweet. “Their tiramisu is to die for, isn’t it?”

“It’s really good.” But not as good as I bet you taste. No! Stop it.

“I had almost two servings last year when Katie couldn’t finish hers, which wasn’t a good idea since I’m technically lactose intolerant. I thought my stomach was going to die the rest of the night, but it was worth it.” You looked at him with a sheepish smile for about two seconds before the two of you burst out laughing.

Bob shook his head slightly, still laughing with you. As a doctor, you should probably know better than to trigger an allergy knowingly, but he couldn’t exactly blame you. He’d do the same thing for their tiramisu. Or a tub of caramel ice cream.

“Maybe we can share a plate instead” he suggested. Because it was the logical thing to do to keep your stomach intact. Not because it sounded insanely romantic. Of course not.

“I’d love that” you answered, looking at him sweetly before turning to look out the window.

You arrived a few minutes later, being escorted inside and seated by the older woman who’d been hostess every time he’d been there. The restaurant was dim, lit by the faint flicker of gas lamps and candles on the tables. The color scheme was a rich, old Victorian inspired mix of creams, wood and reds. Rich velvet curtains and old paintings of the Italian countryside decorated the walls. A family portrait of the original owner’s family hung on one wall. Bob loved that touch. It felt more genuine, the way a family-owned business always does.

The table you were given was located further back in the space, away from the bustle of the tables closer to the entrance. It was private, quiet, perfect. The candlelight flickered, casting your face in an almost angelic glow, and for a while, Bob forgot how to breathe. The small constellation of freckles reflected in the candlelight. God, you were so beautiful. How did he ever get lucky enough to meet someone like you?

“I think I’m going to get a glass of red” you said thoughtfully, eyes scanning the wine list.

“Want to share a bottle?” Bob suggested, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

You looked up from the menu with a slightly puzzled expression, head tilting as you looked at him. “I thought you didn’t drink?”

A coy smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “What makes you think that?”

Your brows furrowed together. “You never drink at the Hard Deck?”

So you noticed… “I don’t usually drink if I’m working the next day. I don’t want to risk it clouding my judgement when flying.”

“You’re working tomorrow, though?”

Bob shrugged, feeling a little like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “It’s just a debrief…and this is a special night.” He said that last part with his eyes trained to his water glass. He really didn’t want to see if you were going to laugh at him or not.

Instead, you reached forward and placed your hand on top of his on the table. Your eyes were shining with affection, cheeks decorated pink.

“I think you might be the sweetest man I’ve ever met” you said quietly, but with every ounce of conviction in your voice.

“It’s just a bottle of wine” Bob answered, just as quietly, almost a murmur.

“No, it’s not” you insisted. You gave his fingers a squeeze before letting go and picking up your menu again.

The waitress came by and took your orders. Bob knew almost nothing about wine. Beer and whiskey were the go-to in Montana small town where he grew up. So, he let the waitress recommend something, and she was all too happy to suggest her personal favorite.

Conversation flowed so easily throughout the entire dinner. You talked about how he’d grown up on a ranch in Montana, how you’d grown up right here, just a 20 minutes away, how you were an only child whilst he had grown up with three sisters and one brother, how his sisters had always insisted on playing girls v boys soccer out in the fields because they knew they’d win, how you were captain of your high school volleyball team, how you’d kept playing in college, balancing that with being pre-med. You told him about the time you and your best friend Katie had tricked two of your other friends who were obviously into each other to be set up on blind dates just for it to turn out that their blind dates were each other. They had been really mad at you for a week before realizing that there was no other way to get them to admit. They were married today so it was worth it, you said.

Bob barely remembered eating his lasagna, being too busy being entranced by your conversation and the way your delicate fingers twirled the strands of spaghetti in your carbonara or the way you licked subconsciously at your fingers after breaking off and eating a piece of focaccia that was covered in a thin layer of olive oil and spices.

You did end up sharing a serving of tiramisu after your insistence that your stomach would be fine. Your spoons ended up clinking together a few times when going for the same bite, and Bob always caved, letting you have that one piece because he loved the way your eyes glinted with delight and appreciation.

When the waiter brought you the bill, you made an effort to reach for your wallet inside the clutch, but Bob snatched the small booklet before you even had a chance to look at the price. “Don’t even think about it” he threatened jokingly.

“I don’t mind paying” you insisted, still reaching for your wallet.

“Well, I do” Bob retorted, already placing his credit card in the booklet. “There’s no way I’m letting you pay on our first date. That’s just not right.”

He felt a sense of possessive, male pride engulf him at the way you blushed but accepted. It felt good, taking care of you, spoiling you. If you’d let him, he’d spend the rest of his life pampering you.

You exited the restaurant, feeling the gentle evening breeze crash over you. Sighing dreamily, you closed your eyes and absorbed it. “Want to go for a quick walk?” you asked with that gentle tone.

“That sounds nice” Bob responded, suddenly feeling nervous again. He also wanted to prolong this date as long as possible, but he wasn’t sure how or for how long. He just knew he wanted to spend every second with you.

You held out your hand in a silent question. Slowly, Bob reached out and took it, his larger hand engulfing yours. It was warm and soft, just like the rest of you, nothing like the way you had complained about them always being dry. They were perfect. It was insane how calm he had felt around you yesterday at the Hard Deck, but now he felt like nervous school boy talking to his crush for the first time.

The sun had settled lower on the horizon as you walked down the street. Like everything on the island, it was never far from the water. Salt mixed with the breeze the closer you got. The ocean glittered in the distance where the water met sand. The beach seemed to expand for miles from the bench where you had settled, still hand in hand.

Bob’s heart lurched in his chest and landed somewhere in his throat when you tilted your body to lean your head against his shoulder. The scent of your shampoo wafted towards him, with him risking a small inhale of the stuff. God, you smelled good, all your products seemed to be perfectly coordinated in scent as well. Vanilla, coconut, and something that was just so unmistakenly you.

There was no way to tell how long you sat there, leaning against each other, sometimes speaking, but most times just sitting in comfortable silence together, enjoying the company and the view of the ocean.

The sun had slowly started to descend behind the ocean waves when Bob finally looked at his watch. He gave a disappointed sigh.

“Do you need to head home?” you asked, understanding immediately. There was something disappointed in your tone, but mostly it was laced with understanding, which he was grateful for. If there was anyone else that understood the commitment to weird schedules at work, it was someone who had worked the graveyard shift at an emergency room.

“I probably should” Bob said slowly, looking down at you from under his glasses, feeling the need to hold on and never let go. “But I don’t want to.”

You hummed quietly, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere. We can have dinner at my place tomorrow. I’ll cook.”

His eyes lit up at the offer. “Promise?”

“Promise.” You stood from the bench, holding out your hand to him again. “Let’s get you to bed, Lieutenant.”

You probably hadn’t meant for it to come out like that, with that flirty tone. But it did, and now poor Bob could only imagine all the other ways you could put him to bed.

The car ride back was silent, tension thicker than to the restaurant. His hand had found its home on your thigh, just toeing the line of where the fabric of your dress skimmed your thighs. If he moved even an inch lower, he’d be met with your scorching skin.

You really wanted him to move, just an inch or two. His fingers were calloused from work, and you bet they would feel fucking spectacular touching your most sensitive areas. There was no denying that this was without a doubt the best date you’d ever been on. No one else had cared to ask you so many questions about you, about your life, brought you flowers, acted like the proper gentleman, paid, took you on a romantic sunset walk.

Bob Floyd was the whole package, and you really, really liked him. There was another word to describe it. But you didn’t dare use that one. Not yet.

The way one of his hands effortlessly maneuvered the vehicle to take you home, whilst the other rested on your leg, warmth seeping through was so incredibly hot. His hair had gotten messier in the wind, curls sweeping along his forehead, glasses slightly foggy from the humidity. Contentment and heat swirled like a pool of possibility in his eyes every time he looked at you, as if he was so grateful to have you, but also wanted to much more at the same time. And you did, too. There was so much you wanted to do, with him, to him.

But there was no rush, you knew that. You didn’t make a habit of sleeping with guys on the first date, but you were tempted. God, you were tempted.

Your cottage appeared far sooner than you’d liked. If you could, you’d freeze time and live in this bubble forever. But the way he’d jumped at the opportunity of a stay-in date, there was a good chance you’d have many more evenings like this.

The gravel on the driveway crunched under the tires as the car came to a stop. He sighed again, hand flexing involuntarily around your leg, like he was steeling himself for something. “I’ll walk you to the door” he said, voice an octave deeper than usual. He stepped out and walked around to open the door for you, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes followed the motion of your legs as you got out.

Bob Floyd had a thing for you in heels, and you planned to milk that piece of knowledge as often as you could.

His hand rested on the small of your back, fingers tangling slightly in the fabric as he helped you up the small set of stairs to the porch. The porchlight cast his face in a golden glow, illuminating all his features. He was so handsome, so sexy, and he towered over you in that way that made you feel all wanton.

The hand on your lower back came to rest on your waist, squeezing into the flesh. Possessive, but not uncomfortable. His other hand came to cup your cheek. The blue in his eyes darkened as he looked at you through hooded lids.

Your stomach swooped in anticipation as your own hands came to rest on his chest. The beating your chest intensified as Bob leaned in, lips hovering over yours, just waiting for…something. There was so much tension between you, it was almost palpable. Like one more movement might cause an explosion.

“Kiss me” you breathed, surprising even yourself.

Bob’s lips crashed against yours like a missile at an enemy aircraft. The tension in your body exploded, crashing and burning. You melded yourself against him, feeling your bodies slotting against each other like they fitted perfectly. He was so firm, yet soft and warm at the same time. You could taste a mix of wine from dinner and coffee from the tiramisu, and it was glorious.

His lips moved against yours like a man starved, with so much longing that you wondered how he managed to hold back throughout the entire dinner. His hands pulled you impossibly closer, and he let out a small groan as you fisted the collar of his shirt.

Slowly, like he couldn’t bear to let go, Bob broke the kiss. His lips were red and swollen, eyes blown, chest heaving for air. His hand came to tangle in the hair at the base of your neck. You let out a tiny hum, leaning into the sensation, and Bob made a gruff sound in response.

“You’re so beautiful” he whispered into the night, which had gone dark by now.

“So are you” you whispered back, searching those dark blue eyes of his.

He leaned his forehead against yours for a second before coming back to look at you. Heat spread throughout your body at the intense look in his eyes, pooling in your stomach. “Well…” he said slowly. “This is goodnight, I guess.”

“Yeah” you agreed, hands still fisted in his shirt, no conviction in your voice. “Goodnight…”

“Goodnight…”

“Goodnight…”

A few seconds passed in a complete, thick silence where you just stared at each other before Bob cupped your face with both his hands and yanked you into another searing kiss. A moan escaped you at the way his tongue teased your bottom lip. Almost on instinct, you backed into the doorframe, letting him engulf your entire body as he pressed himself closer to you. His glasses dug into you, the metal leaving imprints on both your faces. The glass fogged from the harsh breaths released through your noses.

He groaned into the kiss, hands clinging to you with desperation. You could feel his cock, hard as steel, pressing into your lower belly. The sensation caused pure, unfiltered horniness to flow through you, making your legs tremble as your clit throbbed in anticipation.

Bob was the first to pull away again, swearing under his breath. He looked almost pained, and you bet it had something to do with the pulsating pressure against you. Never before had you seen a man struggle so much with his self-control. It was as hot as it was endearing.

Only problem? You were so fucking sick of fighting it.

“I have to be up early tomorrow” he breathed, more like a reminder to himself than to you.

“You do…” you agreed, voice conveying nothing but the want for him to stay. Your dress clung uncomfortably to your skin. All you wanted was to rip it off and feel his skin against your own.

“I don’t want you to think I only took you out for sex” Bob whispered against your lips, nipping slightly at them.

“I don’t” you assured him. “And I don’t make a habit of sleeping with guys on a first date.”

He nodded, closing his eyes, steeling himself for that final goodbye when…

“But I really want to invite you in. If you want to.”

Bob opened his eyes again, more black than blue, searching your face so desperately. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, your body screaming for his attention. “I’m really trying to do gentlemanly thing, here.”

You didn’t answer, instead you reached up and let your thumb stroke his bottom lip, feeling the plush, moist skin. Bob inhaled sharply at the motion, pressing himself closer. He took one last look at your mouth.

“Screw it.”

He crashed back into you, tongue plunging into your mouth. He licked into it like he owned you, hands finding purchase wherever he would reach. As his lips left your mouth to press a line of heated kisses down your neck, stopping to nip at the sensitive skin behind your ear, you searched your clutch blindly for your keys.

When you finally found them, you broke the kiss, turned around and tried to unlock the door. Bob pressed himself against you, hands fisting in the fabric at your waist as you fumbled with the lock.

As soon as you heard the click, he practically yanked the door open for you, pushing the both of you inside. You dropped the bag and keys without ceremony, turning back around to face the man that looked like he was seconds away from combusting. Pulling him back into a fevered kiss, you started leading the way to the staircase. It was a fumble between heated kisses, giggles at misaligned steps and shallow breaths, but you soon made your way to the bedroom.

The door swung open, but you didn’t give Bob a chance to take in the space before yanking him towards the bed by the beltloops in his trousers. You tumbled down in a mess of tangled limbs, landing on the comforter with a huff.

Bob continued his earlier exploration of your throat, pressing open mouthed kisses that left a trail of saliva and goosebumps in their wake. The sensation was overwhelming, and you wrapped your legs around his waist on instinct, pressing him closer to your heated core. Bob groaned into your neck.

“Fuck” he muttered. “You’re everything.”

Feeling boldened by his compliment, you yanked his shirt loose from the confines of his trousers. You fumbled with the buttons, working them open as he ran his hands up and down your body. They trailed along your waist, squeezed your hips, caressed over your ribcage, just under your breasts, cupped your face as he leaned in for another kiss.

When the shirt was finally unbuttoned, he sat back on his knees and took it off without you having to ask. Jesus Christ… His body was glorious. Strong and muscled, but in an understated way. Freckles decorated his collarbones, a thin layer of fine dark blonde hair decorated his chest. Barely there, but very soft-looking.

“God, you’re hot” you whispered, licking your lips as you took in his impressive physique. A pink blush spread over his cheeks and neck. He looked away for a second. “I’m serious” you insisted. “Now, come here!”

You yanked him back down to you, kissing him again. It was all tongue and teeth, both of you moaning into it. His skin was scorching to the touch as he caged you in, arms resting on either side of your head.

Your underwear pressed damply and uncomfortably to your soaked core, insides clenching around nothing as the bulge in his pants brushed you again. You tilted your hips upwards, chasing the sensation. A gasp escaped you as he hit that perfect spot over your clothed clit. Bob groaned into the kiss, his hips finding a rhythm as he humped against you.

The sensation was amazing, but it was nothing compared to what you knew waited. God, you wanted the real thing, for him to fill you up, stretch you out, pressing his cock against your G-spot.

“Dress. Off” you panted pushing the fabric upwards. “Take it off.”

Bob paused, a hint of caution in his eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked, voice husky.

“Never been more sure of anything” you assured him, a hint of impatience to your tone. “I need to feel you, right now.”

Bob chuckled, kissing your forehead in a way that was way sexier than it had any right to be. “How about I go down on you first?”

That nearly caused your brain to short-circuit. Heat flooded your core at the very idea. Images of him between your legs had haunted most of your fantasies and dreams for the past weeks, ever since you met him, really. “Fuck” you swore breathlessly. “Yes, please.”

Bob smirked before helping you sit up and reached back to unzip the back of your dress. You wasted no time pulling it off and tossing it to the side where it landed in a heap on the floor. His eyes landed on the white lace bra you wore underneath. Innocent and sinful at the same time. Then his eyes drifted lower to find the matching panties, completely soaked through.

“Holy fuck” Bob said quietly. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“Just being you” you praised before unclipping your bra and letting it fall.

Your nipples pebbled in the air hardening in a way that was almost painful. Bob practically whined at the sight before pushing you back down on the bed. His lips closed around one, tongue swirling around the hard bud. Your back arched off the bed as you moaned, completely lost in the sensation. Your hips chased his friction again on instinct as his fingers toyed with the other nipple.

He released the aching bud with a wet plop, kissing his way over to your other nipple before giving it the same attention. You ran your fingers through his now messy hair, holding him in place over your chest. He groaned and moaned into your skin, pressing himself as close as he could. The sound vibrated through you, straight to your clit.

Bob’s glasses were almost completely fogged up when he pulled back. That didn’t seem to stop him though as he pressed kisses down your stomach, slowly working his way down. He stopped to press wet kisses along the top of your panties, causing your hips to buckle. There was no way he couldn’t smell your arousal down there.

He leaned down to press a kiss to the soaked fabric and your entire body jolted.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, handing coming to rest on the top of his head.

“Sensitive?” he teased, smiling into the wet fabric of your panties. You could feel the warmth of his breath even through the soaked lace, and it almost drove you insane.

“Shut up” you groaned, body arching as he pressed another kiss to your core.

“I’m taking these off now” Bob informed you, giving you a chance to protest. When you didn’t, he hooked his fingers into the fabric and slowly peeled them down your legs.

The cool air hit your hot flesh, working almost as well as the vibrator you kept stashed in your nightstand. But before you could dwell too much on that, Bob leaned in and licked a long stripe up your slit.

“Want me to take the shoes off?” you teased, already knowing the answer.

“No” Bob muttered against your skin. “Leave them on.”

You called out his name, body contorting with pleasure as he dove in again, tongue swirling around your clit. The sensation caused more goosebumps to break out over your body. It was electric, the way his mouth just seemed to know you, how to lick you, how to suck your clit just right.

“You taste so good” Bob muttered into your pussy, diving back for more.

He licked over your clit again and again like a man starved again, lips closing around the bundle of nerves to suck on it. White, hot pleasure seared through you like a burn that was immediately cooled and satiated by even more licks. He moved down to lick and kiss around your entrance before plunging his tongue inside.

“Oh shit!” you cursed loudly.

The pleasure pooled inside you, growing stronger and stronger with each second. Your belly tightened, you pussy clenched around his tongue. His nose bumped your clit a couple of times, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on. It was too much. It was all too much and not enough at the same time. Your nipples ached, clit throbbed as he went back to sucking it harshly.

As if he knew exactly what you needed, his fingers came up to tease slightly around your entrance before pushing inside. God, the intrusion was glorious, stretching you just right.

“Fuck, you’re soaked” Bob moaned incredulously, glancing up at you through his foggy glasses. “Is all this for me?”

“All of it” you moaned breathlessly as he worked his fingers in and out of you. “All for you! Please, baby” you begged. “Please suck on my clit again.”

He groaned, leaning his forehead against your hip bone. “So needy, so fucking hot!”

But he did as asked, diving back in and pulling the sensitive flesh between his lips. Your thighs closed around his head, locking him in place against your throbbing pussy. Your legs landed over his shoulders, heels digging into the skin of his back. Bob groaned loudly into your pussy, the vibrations sending you into overdrive. You did it again, experimentally, and his groan was even louder this time.

You moaned in tandem with him as his fingers worked your G-spot, pushing against that spongy spot inside you. Your entire body thrummed, so ready to snap. He flattened his tongue over your clit and pressed, doing you in completely.

“Bob” you panted. “I’m gonna–” But you didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence as the pleasure washed over you.

The orgasm tore through you like wildfire, soaking his mouth and fingers. Everything pulsated, blood thrumming in your ears as you screamed out your pleasure, entire body contorting off the bed.

When it finally slowed down, body spasming with aftershocks, Bob kissed his way up until he finally reached your mouth. The taste of you lingered on his lips that were soaked with a mix of your arousal and his spit. You both moaned into the kiss, his hands snaking under to cup the nape of your neck.

“You’re really good at that” you praised, causing that adorable blush to return to his cheeks.

“Thank you” he whispered. “I just wanted to be good for you.”

“Oh, you were.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “But I still want to feel you inside me. Is that okay?”

Bob choked slightly, but nodded quickly, staring at you like you hung the sun and stars. You reached down to unbutton his trousers, him helping you to peel them and his underwear off, his cock bobbing in the air. His shoes and socks came next, until he was completely naked before you.

He was big. Like big, big. Hard, flushed, dripping with pre-cum, jutting out proudly. Your throat dried up at the sight. How on earth were you going to make that thing fit inside you? You were certainly gonna try.

“Do you have a condom?” Bob asked breathlessly as he looked between his own member and your pussy.

You shook your head, bringing his body closer to you again. “I’m on the pill. I’m clean, I haven’t been with anyone since my last test.”

“My last test was clean, too” he responded, voice filled with wonder and mirth at the same time. “But you know that.” He was given regular STD checks as part of his health evaluation by the navy. So you did know that. “Haven’t been with anyone either.”

“Good” you said and yanked him closer, plunging your tongue into his mouth. He released an ‘oumf’ into your mouth and reached down to give his length a few slow pumps.

With a reverence that made your heart swell, he aligned himself with your pussy and slowly pushed inside. Your responding moan caused his entire body to shudder. “Fuck!” he gritted out. Your pussy practically swallowed him, sucking him in, clenching around him like it was a full-time job. “You feel incredible.”

He felt incredible as well, pulsating inside you, filling you up so completely. After a few seconds, he started to slowly move, pushing himself in and out of you. Your hands came to claw at his shoulders, legs locking around his hips.

With every thrust he found that spot inside you so perfectly, shooting pleasure throughout your body. His pubic bone rubbed against your clit in a desperately teasing way, like someone itching just beside that spot you needed it most. It was maddening, but at the same time, you didn’t want it to stop.

“You feel so good inside me” you panted out, nails digging into his shoulders as he pushed even harder. “Filling me up so well. Feels so good!”

Bob bit the skin of your collarbone. A surprised but delighted gasp left you as his tongue soothed the sting. “You feel fucking incredible” he grunted, hips snapping into yours, filling the air with the sound flesh against flesh and soaked squelches. “You’re so tight! I don’t think I’ll last much longer. It’s too good!”

Craning your neck, you caught his lips in a wet kiss, tongues mingling and battling for dominance. His hand snaked down to push your hips down into the mattress, hips chasing pleasure even more intensely. Every drag brought you closer and closer again, hips canting up to meet his.

His hand moved, fingers trailing over your hip bone, over your mound before finding your clit. The calloused pads of his fingers pressed against you in perfect circles, pleasure shooting up your spine.

“Can you come again?” he asked gruffly, working your clit with that military precision.

“Yes!” you panted. “Keep touching me like that!”

He groaned loudly when your pussy clenched around him. “I’m really close” he warned, face contorting in concentration.

“I want you to cum inside me!” you begged. “Want you to fill me up!”

Bob whined loudly, burying his face in your neck as his orgasm overtook him. He hit that spot perfectly one last time and you followed him, bodies shaking together. Warm ropes of cum decorated your insides as he emptied himself inside you. His tongue licked a long stripe up the side of your neck, tasting the salty sweat that had pooled there.

Your hips snapped together in aftershocks for a few seconds before you stilled, lying together, noses brushing each other’s skin, him still inside you, softening slowly. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, in a perfect bubble of aftercare. He pressed loving kisses to every inch of skin he could reach, whispering in your ear how good you were for him, how perfect.

When he finally slipped out of you, his cock was completely soft, his cum running down your ass cheeks soon after. “Sorry” he murmured. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Next door to the right” you mumbled, still soaking in the feeling of being so perfectly fucked.

“Are there clean towels in there?”

You nodded absentmindedly, fingers trailing over the coarse hair on his arms. “In the small cabinet by the shower.”

He disappeared for a minute before returning with a clean hand towel. With a smile that could only be described as loving, he gently wiped you clean, careful to go from top to bottom. Then he helped you to the bathroom, staying outside as you peed, before getting himself cleaned up as well. You gave him a spare toothbrush to use for the night. He helped you change the soaked sheets before climbing into bed together.

“I’ll set an alarm so I can get up in time to change at home before work” he whispered into the quiet bedroom as you settled into his waiting arms.

You nodded sleepily, nuzzling the warm skin of his neck. “You’ll be back for dinner?”

“Of course” he said happily. “Can’t miss our second date.”

“Good” you yawned. “I can make this really good pesto baked salmon with honey-glazed brussels sprouts and white rice.”

You swore you could hear Bob’s stomach rumbling at your words and suppressed a smile. He chuckled at his own body betraying him and pulled you in for a soft kiss. “Sounds perfect. Goodnight, doctor.”

“Goodnight, lieutenant."

[prosypepper]

here for a suguru drabble idea pretty pepper… comrade suguru frustrated after a mission during an operation went wrong and angry fucking you in his barracks 🫡 i salute you my raven haired hunk, do what you need with this request

hi bisque😏😏😏😏fancy seeing u around here😏😏😏😏😏😏

a/n: heehesheheh a little dubcon-esque i think, just rough suguru, unprotected p in v, uhh doggy yes mhm thats it i think, 18+ mdni

“how’d it go, sugu?”

you recognize suguru’s footsteps immediately, though this time it’s more of an angry stomp into the room. obviously, something is up with him—his hair is all messy and he’s almost sweating, his brows are knitted together so closely it looks like a permanent scowl.

“those fucking idiots fucked everything up,” suguru says, thrashing around your shared space, grabbing whatever clothes he can before spitting, “i’m going to go take a shower, i just—i’ll be back.”

“are you okay? can i—can i do anything?”

“no. i’ll be back.” he dismisses, walking out the door without even turning to look at you.

your heart and stomach drop. it’s rare for suguru to be upset, so angry over anything, really. his anger is usually quieter, it brews inside of him until he can do something about it—so someone must’ve majorly messed up for him to act like this.

awaiting his return, your eyes flicker up to the door at every creak and scrape, anxiety building up with each minute that passes. finally, he walks back through the door—this time, less heavy, more methodical. shirtless. chest rising and falling with fervor.

still…off.

his eyes are on yours, moving in like a predatory animal, words long forgotten in the back of his head. communication isn’t what he needs right now.

suguru needs you, it’s written all over him.

“sugu,” you breathe, words catching in your throat as he climbs onto the bed, over you, trapping you beneath him. looking into his eyes, you can see his pupils are blown wide, black overtaking the pretty dark brown you were so used to. you try and sink into the bed, away from his face, hoping he will talk to you.

“are—are you okay? you’re being—suguru.”

his name falls of your lips as a moan, his knee pressing in between your thighs, sending a wave of pleasure through you. one arm hooks under your head, bringing your forehead to his lips, a light kiss left as an apology beforehand.

“turn over,” suguru commands, the last bit of his patience thrown out the window long ago. the warmth of his body leaves you, he stands up to rid himself of whatever clothes he has left—and you compliantly roll over and lift your hips a little.

the bed dips under your husband’s weight behind you. suguru’s fingers hook into your bottoms, pulling them down and off your legs in a swift movement. he pulls your hips up—inspecting—and you’re soaked already.

you like this.

suguru smiles for the first time since that morning.

“fucking idiots,” suguru rambles, slipping a finger in you with ease, “can’t believe they kept me away from this all day just to fuck everything up. can you believe that, baby?” he hooks his fingers just right, brushing against that spongey spot and you moan out again.

not the answer he was looking for.

his hand wraps around your throat, not choking, but firm enough to pull your head back. firm enough to answer him.

“can you fucking believe that?” he grits, pulling his fingers out and landing a harsh smack on your ass that’s sure to leave a print.

“no—no!” you sob, the pain blooming from the initial hit.

he’s never rough like this. okay, yes, he’s been less than gentle—but suguru takes his time. never rushes. always thinks before he acts. follows the rules—foreplay, build it up, tease, prep—all before he finally allows himself to feel you.

your cheek rests against the sheets, lungs full of a breath you’re holding. he’s still grumbling, cursing whoever, and—oh.

suguru slides in, one long, thick movement—buried to the hilt.

it’s good, better than good, really. ‘good’ is such a feeble word to describe everything that runs through you at the moment. breathtaking, maybe. you’re not breathing. you forgot.

his hips draw back, sliding out only halfway, and he slams back in. the air held in your lungs is forced to escape. a cry rips from your throat, only to be cut through by suguru’s bruising pace.

there’s no stopping him—this is what he needs.

you better hope no one else walks through the door.

[yuzukatanki]

Baby Fever - Caleb || LADS ficlet

Sfw, f!reader, mentions of pregnancy.

You're taking a walk with Caleb, having insisted that you were too tired to do a proper workout. Caleb groaned, but he came along as always, and in all honesty, he even made lunch, making this more of a picnic than a walk. You're both seated on the grass as Caleb grumbles but still rests his head on your lap, talking about everything and nothing. It's only then that an unexpected face appears. You see a cute, chubby baby waddle up to you guys, unsteady on those cute little legs and looking at you both with those big ol' eyes, and when she spots your boyfriend? The baby gives him a big, toothless grin, eyes crinkling as she waves those chunky baby arms, reaching out towards him. How does Caleb respond?

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Caleb plays it cool, laughing as he looks up at you. "See that pipsqueak? I'm pretty popular, aren't I?" He giggles, actually giggles, and it makes your heart hammer in your chest. It was so different from Caleb's typical laugh, not as playfully cocky or excited, but instead softer and gentler. With an exaggerated groan gets to his feet, before grabbing one of the baby's hands. "Well, hello there!" He coos at the baby before looking left and right. His voice is still playful, but there's something serious as he scans the area for any parents who might be looking for a certain someone. "Where'd you come from? I bet your mommy is looking for you." He says. And God, as embarrassing as it was, Caleb's behaviour makes your heart beat faster. Caleb, so strong and honestly dangerous (for the world, not you), talking so softly with a baby? Holding her little hand so gently? An image of Caleb, with his own baby, giggling as they play together, flashes through your mind. No, to be honest, it's not just his baby, it's... Both of yours. Yeah, sure, he's your boyfriend, but it feels embarrassing to imagine having a baby, and you brush the thought away with just a slight flush on your cheeks.

Caleb looks at you, nodding at you to stay here while he goes around. But you get up with him, dusting yourself off. Soon, the two of you are asking every couple, and then every person, if they're perhaps missing a literal baby. All while the cutie sits in Caleb's arms, at some point having become too tired to stand, and how could Caleb resist those grabby hands and ask for "uppies"? You know you're trying to find a kid's parents, but seriously, you can't stop thinking of how one day... One day, will Caleb hold your kid like this, too? A part of you wonders if Caleb might ever think thoughts like this, too.

And Caleb? Unbeknownst to you, his mind is going through even more scenarios right now. Thoughts ranging from you pregnant with his baby to a mental image of you two at your imaginary-future-kid's own wedding. His silly, lovestruck brain is jumping way farther than your simple thoughts ever could. And he's trying to tamp it all down as he tries to find this little one's parents first.

It takes a bit, but soon, a frantic woman approaches you two. She's out of breath, and the baby squeals "ma-ma" and now turns her grabby hands to someone else, both things signifying that this is probably the right person. Caleb feels a hint of reluctance at handing over the baby though, ever the cautious guy, even with his good attitude. But he sighs in relief when the woman shows them pictures of the little one on her phone. As the lady takes her baby, you start explaining the situation of how you found her and have been looking for her parents, and it seems you both kept missing each other. The lady is all tired smiles as she holds her little one close, thanking you both profusely. "You two are so lovely!" she says, digging through her purse before shoving a coupon in your hands. "I'm sorry, but I think you'd enjoy this, right? Would be a lovely date." She says, making sure you can't push back the ice cream coupon before she turns away.

And where was Caleb during all this? Zoning out. Now that he didn't need to find a kids parents or make sure she didn't tumble out of his arms, he was in his own world. His mind, in just a few seconds, is filled with thoughts of you, pregnant with his baby, thoughts of you holding a baby in your arms as you smile at him. A baby, looking just like you, so he can have an itty-bitty you running around the house. God, wouldn't your house be so lively? Even just having you visit in Skyhaven makes the place feel alive... A little baby laughing and playing in any home you have? Heaven. Caleb's thoughts continue. A baby who smiles and squeals so cutely at him, just like this one. A little one who doesn't know the formidable Colonel, doesn't know his wrongs, but is unafraid because they know and love their Daddy. A baby who symbolizes how far you two have come since being children. Caleb isn't really biased for any gender, but he honestly holds back from squeezing your hand as he thinks about having his own little baby girl just like this one. One who looks just like her mommy with just a little bit of him, so that it's obvious she's both of yours, but still mostly you.

"Okay... Relax," he thinks to himself before he gets too lost, and he comes back towards real life as the lady turns to leave. He waves bye at the mother-daughter pair with his signature playful grin plastered on his face. And god.... Was that a mistake?

The baby laughs at Caleb's wave, the sound going straight to Caleb's heart. The tiny hands wave too, in that excited, erratic way kids do, and a little "bye-bye" hangs in the air. "Oh my god, oh my god" is all Caleb can think. Could... Could your future baby laugh and look at him like that??? If- If you two have a baby... a little baby... would she look at Caleb like this, with bright little eyes (that hopefully look like yours because of course your eyes are the most beautiful in the world-)? Right now, there's an itch in his heart. When the hell did babies become so cute?? Sure, he's not a baby-hater, but he's never particularly been the type to pick them up and coo at them. He even finds them a little gross sometimes with all the drool, though, of course, his baby with you would never be gross. She would be an angel. Like her mom. Obviously.

By the time his inner musings are done (Which, crazily, somehow only lasted a few seconds despite how many there were), the mother notices her baby's excited wriggling and giggling, and she turns around. She boops the baby's nose, giving her own last wave at you two. It makes you offhandedly remark about "how cute that was". And Caleb doesn't really know what to think. Did you think babies are cute... Could you both have one??? Is it possible?? Is this on the table??? Do you want to get married first? You can get married tomorrow. It's possible. Wait... what if you want a beautiful wedding? Hmmm... He'll have to plan for that; those can't be done in a day. (He's very normal about this relationship)

On the outside, Caleb smiles again, collected and composed. And you misunderstand, thinking that Caleb is a little tired. As far as you know, the only kid Caleb has ever been good with was you, and he was a kid then, too, so maybe all this impromptu "babysitting" has exhausted him. So, taking "pity" on him, you drag him away, back to your picnic spot, never noticing how his eyes go from the baby to you one last time, with an honestly obsessive gleam to them.

As you're both walking after cleaning up your picnic spot, Caleb starts swinging your entwined hands. You raise a brow as you look over at him. "Being popular sure puts you in a good mood, huh?" You quip, laughing as Caleb flashes that handsome grin at you. He brings up your hand to his lips when he swings them this time, and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. "Nah. I'm happier to be out with you." His pretty purple eyes are pinned on you, as if you're the most important thing he's ever seen. "Even though you do owe me one for taking time out of my schedule just to end up finding some kids' parents. Colonels don't have entire days off often." He hums, but you know he doesn't really mean anything by it.

"Now... Let's use that coupon, pips." Caleb drags you along as you both laugh.

In the future, you'll scold Caleb about giving in and buying your daughter ice cream too often, but you wont be able to stay mad too long at those puppy eyes. From both of them.

>> My masterlist.

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A/N: This was edited in a rush, sorry, sobsob. If u find any mistakes, feel free to tell me, because I've had a super busy week. I'm moving this summer, to another damn country, and that's taking a lot of planning and other stuff. So it's a miracle I've even been able to write at all. Now other- other stuff. As always, these are my headcanons of how Caleb might act, so pls don't tell me it's ooc, etc, idk if the game gives anything about how Caleb would be with kids right? I just think Caleb would really, really want a kid, and I made another post saying all the guys would, so my idea here was to instead make different scenarios which would inspire "baby fever" in the guys and their reactions that way. I hope you like it.

Also fr guys, i've always been told if you find anything, lost pet or even kid, always make sure to ask the person who claims that it's their kid/pet to show proof like pictures or tell u identifying features. Like never hand them over just by trusting someones word. So I couldn't resist adding that in my fic lmaooo. Was anyone else ever taught that?

[bapeach]

My lucky charm

Enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D Find my masterlist here :) Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader Word count: 1.7k+ Summary: When Paige doesn't get back up after hitting her head, you go into panic mode. ------------

You can feel your heart stop the moment she goes down and doesn’t get right back up.

You’re standing in the middle of your apartment, your hands cupping your mouth, the TV turned on to the Dallas Wings vs. Chicago Sky game. The camera is zoomed in on your favorite rookie, lying flat on her back, her hands gripping her head. You take a step closer to the screen, wishing you could step through it and be right beside the girl.

When you’d told Paige you wouldn’t be able to make it to her game but would definitely have it on at home, she’d playfully dropped to her knees. “Noooo, you have to be there, you’re my lucky charm!” She’d begged, giving you puppy eyes as she scooted closer on her knees, her hands clasped together like she was praying. You’d giggled, leaning down to kiss her, before pushing her over and walking away. “You’ll be fine for one game, just don’t go doing anything stupid like getting hurt.”

Now you were regretting not going, wanting nothing more than to hold the girl close and make sure she’s okay. 

You walk backwards, eyes glued to the blonde, as you bend down and blindly feel around for your phone. You quickly open it to Azzi’s contact, knowing the girl is at the game and will be able to give you a bit more information about what’s happening, but you don’t type anything. You can see Azzi’s worried face on TV as they carry your girlfriend off the court. You know she won’t look at her phone but instead be focusing on making sure her best friend is okay, so you put your phone back down as you bite your nails nervously. 

Once Paige disappears off screen, you sit back down with a long sigh as you rub your face in worry. You stop paying attention to the game, only keeping it on in hopes of hearing some news about your girl. When your phone dings, you immediately snatch it up. A small wave of disappointment goes through you as you see it’s a message from “Madam Secretary”. You open Nika’s text and smile a little as you read it.

Breathe babe. I’m sure she’s okay, she’s strong. Try not to think too negatively, it could just be a tiny bump on the head, but if not, you’re gonna have to be strong for her. You know how she gets when she can’t play. Is there anything I can do for you right now?

You take a few breaths as you try to do as she says. She’s right, there’s no point in imagining Paige with a concussion, or whiplash, or internal bleeding, or- No. You just have to believe she’s going to be fine. You type a quick reply before walking over to the kitchen and making yourself a cup of tea.

Thank you Niks, you always know what to say. I’ll be okay, just gotta wait and see what they say. I’ll text you when I know more. Love you!

As you wait for the water to heat up, you send Paige a quick “I love you, please be okay” before opening Google. You bite your lip as you look up all the different types of head injuries she could have. When you get to the more serious ones (that are highly unlikely but still freak you out), you slam your phone down. “Okay, stop, happy thoughts, happy thoughts.” 

You put a bag of chamomile tea in your mug and walk back over to the living room. You set your steaming cup down beside your laptop, your half-done essay long forgotten. Staring at the wall, you try not to imagine the worst-case scenarios until your phone dings again. The pit in your stomach slowly starts dissolving as you read Azzi’s message.

Paige is okay, she hit her head pretty hard, but she’s okay. She probably won’t be able to play the next few games, but she won’t miss much. She’s getting properly checked out now, once the game is over, I’ll drive her home. Try to relax a bit, yeah?

She’s okay.

You take a moment to let everything sink in, letting your stiff posture relax. You text Azzi back, thanking her for letting you know and being there for Paige, before sending Nika an update as well. Looking back at the TV, you see that the 3rd quarter has barely begun, so it’ll be a while before you get to hold your girl safely in your arms again. You bite the nail of your thumb as the gears in your brain start turning.

Quickly jumping up from the couch, you run over to grab your wallet and phone before running out of your apartment. Your steaming mug slowly grows cold, completely forgotten about as you leave. You stop a few doors down the hallway, rapidly knocking on the door as you wait for your neighbor, Benji, to open his door. Before he has the chance to say hello, you start rambling, “I need a ride, please. Paige got hurt, and I need to be home before she gets back here, but I wanna get her her favorite flowers from that cute shop we found.”

While you ramble, he’s already grabbing his jackets and car keys, steering you towards the stairs as he nods with a reassuring look. You let yourself be guided to the car as you explain what happened to your sweet girl. Once you arrive at the flower shop, you jump out of the car and run inside to grab the nicest bouquet you can find. You leave the store in record time, rushing to make another stop at Walmart for Paige’s favorite chocolate and the stuffed animal she always calls stupid, but can’t help lingering around when you both go shopping.

Checking your phone, you see that Paige texted a few minutes ago to say she’d be home soon, that she loves you too, and that she’s okay. You tell Benji to step on the gas, and he does as you say without hesitation. When you get back to your apartment, you give him a big hug, thanking him and telling him you’ll make it up to him. He tells you not to worry about it, ruffling your hair before walking back to his place.

You quickly put everything you bought on your coffee table, getting rid of your now freezing mug, before coming to a halt in the middle of the living room. You huff out a breath, taking a peek at the time, before pacing up and down the room, leaving a line of footprints on your carpet. You bite your nails nervously as you wait. Though Azzi reassured you Paige was fine, you still won’t fully relax until you can make sure she’s alright, yourself.

Too far into your head, you almost don’t hear the soft jingle of keys as the front door unlocks. Your head snaps to the door. Paige doesn’t get the chance to fully step into the room before you wrap your arms tightly around her. “God, you scared me so bad. Don’t ever do that again.” You mumble, your voice muffled against her hoodie. You breathe in the sweet smell of her shampoo lingering on her skin.

The blonde chuckles softly as she hugs you tightly. “I’m sorry, Ma, but I’m okay. I’m not allowed to play the next few games as a precaution, but I don’t have a full-blown concussion,” she replies before kissing your head and shuffling you backwards so she and Azzi can properly walk in.

You reluctantly let her go, but you don’t let her get far. Grabbing her face, you stare into her eyes to see if she’s speaking the truth. Her blue eyes shine in their usual mischievous way, making you finally relax. You lean up, giving her a soft kiss, before turning towards Azzi, who’s looking at you both with a soft smile. You quickly hug her too, thanking her for being there and taking care of your girl. “Of course,” she says, her velvety voice soothing you even more. She leaves not long after, knowing you and Paige have each other now.

Once the door closes behind her, you lead your girlfriend to the couch, showing her the things you bought her. Her eyes light up as she sees the chocolate, while a soft blush covers her cheeks at the flowers. When you hand her the stuffed animal, her mouth drops open before her lips curl into a small pout. “He’s so stupid,” she pouts, her eyes glistening a bit as she grabs its arms and rubs the soft fabric against her cheeks.

You grin at her, your eyes showing pure adoration. While she’s distracted, you take a quick picture of her, setting it as your new lock screen, before sending it to Nika to let her know Paige is home and okay. When you look up from your phone, the blonde is already looking at you with doe eyes. She motions you over, making you crawl into her lap as you rest your face in her neck. 

The taller girl rubs your back, making you sleepy after today’s scare. “I’m really sorry I wasn’t there,” you mumble as you draw shapes on her collarbones. “It’s okay, Ma, you’re here now, that’s all I need,” she rasps, her voice becoming husky at her sleepiness. “But… I told you so,” she says, a grin clear in her voice.

You lift your head up a bit to look at her. You tilt your head in confusion, making a strand of hair fall in front of your face. Paige carefully puts it back behind your ear. “Told you you’re my lucky charm, see what happened now that you weren’t there.” You roll your eyes as a smile forms on your lips. You lightly flick her forehead with a smile as you mutter, “Yeah, and I told you not to do anything stupid, idiot.”

You lean in to give her a kiss before settling back down against her chest. You continue drawing little shapes on Paige’s collarbones as she rubs your back. It doesn’t take either of you very long to fall into a comfortable nap, knowing that no matter what happens, you both have each other’s back.

[mainstreamangel]

Hi! Not sure if u write for georgia amoore or if u write smut, but could i request a fic in which reader gets flirted with at a mystics home game, georgia gets a bit jealous and takes her home?

TOO SWEET

summary: while courtside at your girlfriend’s game, a brave soul dares to flirt with you.

warning(s): slight angst, hurt/comfort, reassurance sex, smut—minors dni.

masterlist / washington locker room

you were courtside at your girlfriend, georgia amoore's game. though she wasn't actually playing (due to her acl tear and recovery), you still showed up to support her teammates. you wore her jersey anyways, of course.

when you first walked in with her, the media documented both of your appearances. you politely waved and posed for cameras, showing them your game day fits. and even before then, you made georgia make a tiktok with you showing your outfits and lip syncing to 'the alchemy' by taylor swift.

now here, you were chatting with one of the girls next to you. she claimed to have flown from florida to come see the mystics in their mystics-wings matchup. she said she had been a fan of georiga's for a while and watching your relationship through social media always brought her joy on days she felt down.

you felt honoured that you could bring a smile to young fans' faces, and that georgia continued to inspire despite being out for injury.

you've definitely helped her through a lot of the recovery and encouraged her through the hard moments.

the seat on your right had been empty right up until tip off. a woman, about the same age as you, maybe older, sat down in that seat. she looked out of breath.

"hey, you alright?" you whisper towards her.

"yeah, thanks. traffic sucks though...coming this way." she tosses her bag under her chair and gives you a quick smile. though she takes a double take and stares at you for a bit.

"what? is there something on my face?" you ask, starting to touch around lightly to avoid smudging your makeup.

"no, i just- uh nevermind." she turns her head away from you to look at the court. wings have the ball.

georgia glances behind her just quick enough to catch that girl staring. she watches as the woman snaps her head away from you, their eyes meeting for a split second.

she shook it off thinking it was nothing. georgia stood up and smacked her gum, yelling: "GET THEM."

later into the game you sat back down after cheering for a 3. the woman next to you struck up a conversation again.

"you a big fan?" she asks.

"huh? oh yeah." you casually wave at her, yelling when a foul is drawn.

"you uh you come here often?" she asks again.

this time you don't hear her. georgia turns back around when she hears your cheers. she sends you a smile, her gum stuck between her teeth. you give her a thumbs up and make a heart with your hands before looking back to the court. georgia shifts her gaze ever so slightly and sees the woman looking at you again.

she furrows her brows trying to read the girl's facial expression. it was like... lovingly awkward. but then, georgia watches as the woman keeps taling to you, you seem uninterested and quite frankly a bit annoyed. but it didn't help that she was feeling a little jealous. with her injury she hasn't been able to show off to you or impress you and the fans.

she didn't know when she was going to be back on the court, and certainly she was out for the season. you catch her eye again and mouth 'i love you' to her which makes her completely light up. she gives you a goofy grin and a sly smirk towards the girl.

the girl seems to have given up for now and as half time comes around, georgia is nominated to throw out t-shirts to fans and sign autographs. georgia grabs a couple bundles of shirts with rubber bands, chucking them to fans of all ages. she snaps her head to the sound of your voice. she sees you waving her over, and before she knows it her legs are carrying her over with a smile on her face.

"hey love, this is caroline. she's a huge fan of you. she came all the way from florida." you tell georgia, wrapping an arm around her.

georgia smiles and hands her a shirt bundle. "hey, thanks for your support. washington is a long way from home huh?" she asks, accent thick.

caroline looks in awe as if she can't believe that georgia is actually talking to her.

"you're my favourite player, i admire you so much. i- i can't even explain how much you've inspired me and changed the game for me." she rants.

georgia just laughs and extends her arms to give her a hug. she gratefully accepts the hug and starts to feel tears falling down. you pull a tissue out of your pocket and wipe away some of her tears. caroline's parents are recording every interaction and the arena coos at the interaction too when it's shown on the big screen.

you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see the woman again. you're starting to feel quite annoyed but you think maybe she just wants to make friends here.

"hm?" you ask.

"i was just wondering if maybe i could get your number? you're really pretty and i'd love to take you out some time." she fiddles with her fingers a bit.

before you could let her down easy, geogia thanks caroline, handing her, her sharpie back and strutting over to the both of you. georgia isn't as tall as most basketball players so she was about the same height as the woman.

"nah she's not interested." georgia stretches her body to make her look a bit bigger.

you side eye her antics and internally laugh at her slim figure.

the woman looks at georgia with a questioning look. she turns to you and asks, "does she speak for you?"

you nod, leaning your body against georgia's. "yeah, sorry. she's my girlfriend." you look at georgia and give her a loving smile.

the woman displays a horrified expression. "i am so sorry." she turns around and grabs her belongings before rushing out of the arena. you laugh nervously.

"uh, okay.. that was weird." you say, distancing yourself from georgia.

she stays silent for a moment before looking at you. "you weren't interested right? i just don't want to seem like that decision wasn't yours." she says just above a whisper.

you shake your head. "i promise you i was not interested. i love you and only you." you walk closer to her and get close to her ear. "when we get home i'll show you how much i'm interested in you." you graze your lips against the shell of her ear before watching halftime come to an end.

the moment you get back to your place you slightly pressure georgia into walking backwards while you sloppily make out with her.

"fuck, [name]. i felt like i wasn't able to show off and show you that i could be better than that girl today...because of my acl." she breathlessly states in between kisses.

you halt your movements and place your hands on her face. "babe, you listen here. i want you and only you. you're going to come back from this and you'll come back better than ever. right now just let me show you how perfect you are for me." you place one last kiss on her lips and guide her to your shared bedroom.

everything was left from this morning and you gently sit georgia on the edge of the bed. you get down on your knees and look up at her with vulnerablity in your eyes. "may i?" you ask softly.

georgia tilts her head back to let out a shaky breath. "fuck, please."

the corner of your lips quirk as you guide georgia's shorts down, her bucking her hips up slightly. you toss her shorts somewhere random and kiss the inside of her thigh. then you lay your head on the side of one of her thigh's and close your eyes.

"what're you doing?" she asks quickly.

"just taking in that i get to worship my absolutely perfect girlfriend." you open your eyes and give her a loving look.

she shakes her head and reaches one of her arms to guide your head towards her centre. you gently kiss her clothed cunt, eyes fluttered as you watch her exhale sharply. you lean up and leave kisses on different parts of her lips and leave sloppy kisses on her neck.

"stop teasing already." she whines.

you smile and leave one last kiss on her collarbone before sinking back down to her core. "may i?" you ask, again. she nods and assists you in removing her boxers.

once she's exposed to you, you let yourself take in the sight. she's dripping. you take a finger and gingerly swipe it through her wet folds. she lets out a quiet moan, causing you to smirk at her.

"you're so perfect, i promise you. there is no one else for me, no one. not another basketball player not a courtside fan. georgia, please let me taste you.. fuck." you plea. she quickly nods and guides your head to her pussy.

you shift one of your hands to circle her clit slowly while kissing the inside of her thighs. she starts to let out louder sounds, trying to stifle them with her free hand. you let go of her and bring it to grab her wrist. she whines at the removed contact, looking at you with a glint of frustration in her eye.

"let me hear you. let me hear how perfect you were created." you kiss her quickly before attatching your lips to her bud.

the grip on your hair tightened as she pushed you further into her soaking cunt. you let out a muffled moan, letting your eyes droop. if this was how you went, you'd thank georgia in every universe.

"fuck georgia." you let go of her and move your hand. you look at her and she nods. you insert one of your fingers into her slowly, letting it curl at the spongey part. she lets out a sharp moan at the new sensation, your name falling from her lips like a religious prayer.

"i can't tell you how perfect you are georgia, even past a phenomenal baller, you're kind, you're beautiful, you were made—crafted by some higher power, georgia i love you so damn much. no one could ever take me away from you." you smile, cheek squishing against her thigh.

you hold open her legs every time she tries to close them. "please don't shut me out, baby." you pout.

"fuck [name]. i'm so close." she whines. "faster please."

who were you to deny her? you insert another finger and pump her at a faster pace. you wrap your lips around her clit and start to gently suck, stimulating her as much as possible to bring her over the edge.

"you're so perfect baby, let go f'me." you mutter with a sloppy kiss.

georgia's eyes roll to the back of her head as she lets out a soundless breath. you help her ride out her high, still encouraging her with reassuring words.

"i love you." you give her one last sweet kiss before heading to the bathroom and retrieving a warm wet cloth.

running it through her folds and around the area, you gently clean her up and toss her some of your clothes, which she greatly accepts. she clothes herself and grabs you, bending you down towards her sat figure. she gives you a long sweet kiss, and when she releases you, she says: "thank you, i really needed that. and i know you wouldn't intentionally flirt with anyone i just, haven't been myself since the tear." she gives you a saddened look.

you peck her nose and smile. "you're going to come back from this. i promise you."

she nods and smiles too. "what's for dinner?"

you shake your head and kiss the top of her head before walking back into the bedroom. "whatever you want babe. i already ate."

@spideygoop @numberonepartyanth3m @phoenix32711 @we2222 @sevikasleftbicep @em-nems @addymmt @swiftie4evr @fandoms-bythedozen @pathecat14 @victoria149796 @fiction67

[allyeilishh]

hi! remember when ariana greenblatt prank called billie into thinking she got into an accident while learning how to drive and she sounded so worried? yeah so now can you please write billie x reader off of it where reader is a student driver and got into an actual minor accident so she called billie after getting everything settled out but billie being billie, scolded her a bit calling reader her government name and all then offered to drive her home instead? thank you! i’m a fan of your works ⭐️

ᥫ᭡ ACCIDENT ── .✦ B.E.

pairing: Billie Eilish x Reader

genre: fluff

synopsis: reader gets into a car accident while she’s learning to drive.

w/c: 1k

You were gripping onto the wheel like your life depended on it. It was your first time driving alone, and you were a nervous wreck. You were glad that you could finally have the aux on your own music and not your mom pestering about how you were going to fast.

You hadn’t thought that driving alone would be so nerve-wracking. You were expecting to be comfortable and cruising on the road. But the nerves made your hands shake, your head pounding, thinking you were constantly doing something wrong.

You took a deep breath, watching as the light finally turned green. You turned right, heading down the road to your house. You were going just a bit over the speed limit, not much, but enough to outrun some of the other cars on the road.

You had begun to relax a bit when the road began to empty. The cars started to spread out, and you eased into your seat. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to ignore your fears as you continued to drive.

By then, another red light flickered on the traffic signal. You slowed your car to a stop and waited. What you didn’t expect was to be jolted forward, the impact of another car hitting you from the back making you suddenly feel all that fear yet again.

You turned around to look behind you, seeing the other person already getting out of their car. The woman looked frantic, running up to your window, frantically apologizing. You could only nod in shock as she told you to pull over to the side.

You did exactly what she said, now parked on the side of the road. You didn’t know what to do. This was your first accident ever—and it was the first time you were in the car alone. You didn’t know what to do.

You slowly got out of the car, seeing the woman who had crashed into you already coming back over to your car. Frantic and apologetic.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I promise I have insurance and they will cover everything for you!” She said, beginning to look at the back of your car. It wasn’t all that bad, just a big dent and some scratches.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Thank you, Miss.” You said, trying to keep yourself calm. It was so small, but it was still the first time on the road by yourself. It was just a little nerve-wracking.

But eventually, you got it all settled out, and you had your car in the shop, getting the bumper repaired. They said it would take a while for it to be repaired, which just made you want to grow in annoyance, but you kept your expression polite as you walked out. No car.

You let out a small sigh, sitting down on the bench and reaching into your purse to call Billie. The line rang once, before you heard her honey-sweet voice, “Hey, baby, you okay? You were supposed to get home a little bit ago.”

You felt your heart melting at the words. She was too sweet for her own good. You let out a soft chuckle, before speaking softly. “Yeah, I’m okay, but I kind of don’t have a car for a while.”

There was a small silence, before Billie’s worried voice came ringing through. “What do you mean? Did you get into an accident?”

You let out a small hum, “Yeah, but it wasn’t that bad. But they said it’s gonna take a whole to replace the back bumper of my car. They said they don’t have the pieces, but I also don’t want to drive around with a bump in my car… so I’m keeping it here for a day or two.”

Silence. Billie’s mind barely got past the fact that you got into an accident, and it wasn’t like her ears rang after those words.

“W-wait, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Her voice rang out worriedly, and you could just imagine how cute her wide eyes and worried expression would be.

You let out a soft giggle, before speaking in a reassuring tone. “Yes, baby, I’m okay. Didn’t even get a scratch.”

You could hear the relieved sigh through the speaker. More silence for a moment, probably Billie trying to digest it all. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you murmured, crossing your leg over the other, shifting on the bench.

“God—okay, I’m coming. Stay where you are, okay baby?” She said softly, before hanging up the phone. You let out a soft sigh, leaning against the bench, and patiently waited for her to come.

It took no more than ten minutes for you to see her black Porsche coming rushing into the repair shop, her car parking right next to you. She quickly got out, barely allowing you to stand before taking you into her arms.

You let out a surprised yelp, before chuckling, wrapping your arms around her as well. “I’m fine, Billie, no need to be so worried.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll stop.” She said, pulling away from the hug, but keeping her hands on your waist. “What happened anyways?”

“Some lady rammed into me.” You said.

“Did she have insurance for it all?” She said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, everything was already paid off.” You said with a soft giggle, gently squeezing her shoulders in reassurance. You heard a soft sigh coming from her lips, before speaking again.

“Y’know, if I was there, I would tear her a new one.”

“Okay, not needed, Bils.” You said with a dramatic eye roll, before making your way to the passenger side of her car.

“Totally would be.” She said, getting into the drivers seat. You both closed your doors, before she leaned in, placing a gentle kiss to your cheek. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You smiled softly, before leaning back in your seat, feeling the car beginning to move, then Billie’s hand on your thigh.

She would always be there for you. No matter what. ⋆. 𐙚 ̊

a/n: I’m gonna kms I’m only getting worse with these fics 💔💔

[goobstars]

Hallo! I've never done one of these before, but I love your writing, and I was thinking about a Jax x reader where he sleepwalks into her room by accident and falls asleep next to her. Goofiness ensues. Idk, it's silly/fluffy romantic tone.

It's really dumb but I figured it'd be cute, you don't have to do it or anything!

Thanks! <3

𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐘𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃

summary : usually when you woke up, you'd be met with the boring sight of your room, but today, you were met with the view of jax asleep next to you.

tags : romance, a suggestive joke for giggles, and very silly stuffs.

note : i love when people elaborate on goofiness because then that means i don't have to take this seriously. i hope you enjoy the sillys.

if you had to choose a favourite thing to do in the circus, it would be sleeping.

not the adventures, not the 'friends you made along the way'—it was sleep.

sleep meant that you got to forget all about this place, and you didn't care if it was just for a little bit. when you were asleep, you weren't in this digital hell.

the only downside to sleep was that when you woke up, you were reminded about where you were. you were reminded with every glance you'd give around your oddly decorated room. usually, that was the first thing you'd see when you woke up.

but today was different.

you slightly moved around your bed while your eyes remained closed, and you turned your head to the side before partially opening your eyes.

instead of the sight you were used to, you were met with the view of jax.

his eyes were closed while his chest rose with every breath he took, and you paused for a moment as you blinked a few times. were you imagining his presence? why would he be in your room?

you slowly reached out a hand to poke his arm, and you shot up once you actually felt something.

your reaction seemed to wake up jax as he let out a groan, and he opened his eyes before staring at you in confusion. "what—"

you didn't give him a chance to speak as you screamed.

"WHY ARE YOU IN MY BED!?"

"your bed?" jax repeated as he let out a scoff, "i'm pretty sure this is my room, dollface—"

he paused for a moment before he slightly sat up, and he looked around before his eyes widened. "how did i get in here...?"

"through the door?"

his head slowly turned as he frowned at you, and he gave you a fake laugh. "very funny." you only gave him a thumbs up before flopping back down on your pillows, and you shifted so you were on your side so you could look at him. "anyways, you can cut the act, jax. why did you come in here?"

"you're very accusing, you know. what if you kidnapped me from my room and put me in here so you could cause drama?"

"you're too heavy for me to pick up."

"first you accuse me of sneaking into your room, and now you're judging me? you have a lot of nerve for someone who stole me from my room." jax smirked once you rolled your eyes, and you snatched the blanket from him while he pouted at you. "you're really going to let me freeze to death?"

"i will unless you admit that you snuck into my room."

jax let out a dramatic sigh before he flopped back down on the bed, and you frowned at him while he rested beside you. if you were being honest, you wanted him out. you wanted to go back to sleep because it felt like it was early in the morning, despite time not existing here.

"listen, doll—i didn't sneak into your room."

"then how did you get here?"

"through the door." he mocked you from earlier, and you only shot him a scowl as he shrugged. "i don't know what else you want me to say, i'm telling the truth."

you narrowed your eyes, but all you saw was a genuine look in his eyes. he wasn't lying, but then how did he get in here?

"do you sleepwalk?" you bluntly questioned, and jax paused for a moment. his eyes slightly widened while his mouth went into a straight line.

that expression was your answer.

"why didn't you just say you sleepwalk?"

"because ragatha told me she found me walking around while i was asleep, but i thought she was lying to get back at me for putting a centipede in her hair."

his answer made you let out a snicker as you leaned back against your pillows, and you got comfortable while jax just stared at you in confusion. "what are you doing?"

"going back to sleep."

at your answer, he was perplexed as to why you didn't want to talk about the issue further, but he didn't say anything. he just started to get up from your bed because he assumed you would want him to leave.

but instead, he felt a hand grab his own.

he peered over his shoulder to eye the way you held his hand, and you gently tugged it before mumbling, "why don't you just stay here? your room's so far away..."

"you askin' me to sleep with you, doll?" you tightly squeezed his hand while jax let out a chuckle, "i'm just kidding...i guess i'll stay, even though you're making me lose the possibilities of getting my steps in."

you let out a tired laugh at his words, and he got back onto your bed before shifting onto his back. the blanket was tossed onto his legs, and he moved it up to his chest while he put his hands behind his head. he stared up at the ceiling before glancing at you, and he noted how your eyes were already closed.

he slowly shifted onto his side while resting his head against his arm, and the other one moved to fidget with the blanket as he eyed you.

were you already asleep?

by your quiet breaths, he assumed so.

he didn't know how he got here, and as much as he wanted to think that he sleepwalked here, it was more than likely the truth. ragatha had made comments about how she saw him roaming the hallways, but he didn't want to believe it.

why? because every time ragatha said something about him walking, it was always the same nights when he had nightmares.

the nightmares weren't constant, and after ragatha had stopped saying anything after a bit, he believed that he had gotten over the sleepwalking. yet, last night, he had a nightmare about ribbit. the name itself was one that made his stomach churned, and the nightmare didn't help that. replays of the abstraction whirred in his mind as if it were playing a movie, and he hated it.

usually, he'd wake up in his own room after the nightmares, but this time, he woke up in yours.

and for some odd reason, a while before you woke him up, the nightmare vanished like it had never even occurred. the nightmare typically continued until he woke up or was woken up, but that wasn't the case this time. the nightmare stopped midway.

was that around the time he came into your room? why did it just randomly stop?

his eyes flickered across your face, and he let out a low breath.

why did he come into your room?

he'd figure out the answer later, for all he wanted to do right now was sleep. it was his favourite thing to do in the circus.

besides being around you, of course.

[sheerfreesia007]

Beneath the Weight

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader

Word count: 3,796

Content warnings: Fluff, slight angst, arguing, injury

Summary: After pushing himself too hard at the gym to prove his independence, Jeongin ends up injured and reluctantly placed under his girlfriend’s care for a week. Struggling with pride and feeling smothered by everyone’s concern, he lashes out—only to realize too late how much love and sacrifice she’s been quietly giving him all along.

A/N: Divider was created by @strangergraphics, thank you for sharing your dividers with tumblr!

SKZ Taglist: @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @inlovewithstraykids, @channiesrightasscheek, @kaiyaba

@bookswillfindyouaway, @m-325

The clinking of weights hitting each other became the soft background noise to Changbin’s playlist blasting through the gym speakers, the soft grunts of Chan, Changbin and Jeongin himself filled his ears. Today was in the gym with his hyungs working out making sure that they stayed in shape in preparation for their concert coming up. Jeongin blew out a slow breath as he lowered the dumbbells in his hands to his sides, he was starting to feel the familiar ache of his muscles burning with strain that his normal workout usually gave him. Standing from the bench that he was sitting on Jeongin moved to the Lat Pulldown machine, he could feel the bass of the song playing pump through his body giving him a burst of adrenaline and he nodded his head along with the beat. 

Feeling more confident in his weight lifting and pumped up due to his workout already and the music psyching him up he slipped the little metal tab into the weight below what he normally lifted. He figured since he was feeling so good that he should try and push himself on this last workout. He knew he was on the path to being able to lift more and was just going through the schedule like his personal trainer had suggested but he wanted to try and get there sooner.

“Innie, make sure you stay at the weight you’re used to.” Calls out Chan and Jeongin made a disgruntled face at his older friend as he turned his head to look at him. Chan was over by the barbells and was deadlifting way over his normal weight causing irritation and bitterness to rise up within Jeongin. He knew Chan was better at lifting weights than him and had been doing it for far longer than Jeongin had but that was no reason for Chan to baby him once again. Scoffing softly, Jeongin left the metal tab in the weight below what he normally lifted and moved around the machine to sit down on the bench. As he moved to settle back against the bench a shadow fell over him and he looked up to see Changbin standing there in front of him, eyeing him quietly.

“What?” Jeongin bit out and Changbin’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing suspiciously.

“Listen to Chan, Ayenah.” he instructed softly as his eyes darted around the machine before falling back on Jeongin. “You don’t want to overdo it and hurt yourself. Especially right before a concert.” Changbin said knowingly and Jeongin frowned before nodding his head at his older friend. 

“I know, I know.” Jeongin said frustrated while continuing to nod his head at him. “I’m not a kid, stop treating me like one.” Jeongin grumbled out before leaning back against the bench and raising his arms to grab the bar hanging above him. Changbin watched him for a moment before nodding his head once and then walking away. 

He slowly pulled the bar down until it was right in front of his chest before raising it back up to its original position. He grinned widely as he felt his muscles work to lift the weight and easily got in a rhythm, pride worming its way into his chest at being able to lift this amount of weight without much struggle. But soon after ten reps on this weight he began to frown as he felt a soreness start to creep into his muscle, shaking his head Jeongin pushed through another ten reps before raising the weight bar back into its original position. He sat there breathing through his nose harshly feeling sweat trail down the side of his face after exerting more effort into lifting the weight. He stretched out his arms to either side of his body feeling the slight shakiness of the movement and gritted his teeth.

After that he hung out by the dumbbell rack as Chan and Changbin completed their workouts, Jeongin lazily swiped through his phone before a text popped up from you on his screen.

Heartstopper [10:45am]: Hey bub, wanna grab dinner tonight? Gotta make sure I keep you fed. :) Jeongin frowned softly at your text as he continued to breathe heavily after his workout, it was slightly alarming him that he was still breathing like this since it had been a good twenty minutes since he stopped working out and there was a slight twinge in his shoulder that he was being cautious about. But the fact that you felt the need to check up on him and make sure he would be eating later tonight made him feel as if you were babying him just like Chan and Changbin were prone to. Why couldn’t you all understand that he was a grown man who could take care of himself. His mouth twisted in a bitter pout before his fingers were flying across his keyboard to type out a response.

Innie My Heart [10:47am]: Gonna grab dinner with Channiehyung and Changbinhyung. You know you don’t have to take care of me right? He frowned softly as watched the three dots appear shortly after sending his text, he was still feeling stifled, almost smothered by Chan’s and Changbin’s concern and felt a pit form in his stomach wondering if you were going to add onto the feeling.

Heartstopper [10:49am]: Okay babe. Have fun! I know. I like taking care of you though. Let’s you know how much I love you. Text me if you need anything. Love you. Jeongin sat there staring at the text and felt his breath slowly eek out of him as he reread your message, the pit in his stomach quickly eased and he sighed softly. He knew you weren’t trying to baby him but sometimes when the other members did he fell into a funk and would sometimes lash out at you when you took care of him. It was an issue that he was working on himself and he tried to do better for you and you tried to reassure him that you weren’t trying to baby him. Sending a response text back to you telling you that he loved you too and that he’d call you when he got back to the dorm after dinner. He smiled softly to himself feeling better about the whole situation before wincing slightly when he felt the twinge in his shoulder again but he settled back against the wall where he sat and waited for his hyungs to finish their workouts.

“Innie, what did I tell you yesterday?!” Chan snapped out aggravatedly and Jeongin hissed through his teeth while wincing. Ever since he woke up this morning his shoulder had been tight and locked up, almost to the point of pain causing his eyes to tear up. When he had told Chan about it the older man had quickly called the group's doctor to come by their dorm and check on Jeongin. After his visit he had let them know that he had probably pulled a muscle working out the day before and would need to be on muscle relaxers and pain meds with a week of rest. When Chan had asked him what he had done yesterday in the gym, Jeongin had confessed that he lifted more than normal at the Lat Pulldown machine which had set Chan off and how he had come to be sitting on his bed as Chan paced his room ranting about telling him to not overdo it. “I mean really, Innie! I told you to only lift your normal weight. And now look at you!” Snapped Chan angrily and Jeongin rolled his eyes at the older man.

”Get off my back Chan!” He snipped out angrily as anger rose up within him at being scolded by the older man. Chan whirled on his heel and glared at Jeongin who cowered back on the bed.

”I told you not to do it because it would be too much for you. But of course you didn’t listen because you think you’re grown. Well now look at you! A whole week off right before we go one a three day mini tour!” Snapped Chan as he began pacing once again. Jeongin scowled as he watched Chan pull out his phone and begin dialing someone.

”Who are you calling?” Jeongin asked, feeling a sense of dread start to form in his stomach.

”The only one I know who can take care of you while you’re benched.” Chan hissed before turning back to the phone call when the person picked up. “Hi Yeobo, where are you?” Chan greeted you and Jeongin moved on the bed to stand up but Chan snapped a glaring look at him which had him sitting back down with a sour look on his face. He knew Chan had called you and knew that you’d be worried about him and would offer to take care of him while he was out but he didn’t want that. He could take care of himself, he didn’t need a babysitter. 

“Chan hyung, don’t bother her, I can take care of myself.” Jeongin groaned out and Chan ignored him while gritting his teeth.

”Yeobo, Innie hurt himself at the gym yesterday. Pulled a muscle and the doctor put him on meds and rest for a week. Can I drop him at yours for the week? I won’t be able to take care of him this week, what with all the prep I have to do for the concerts coming up.” Chan said into the phone and Jeongin scowled darkly at him. “Great! Thanks Yeobo! I really appreciate it.” Chan said relieved and Jeongin gritted his teeth in irritation. After Chan had hung up the phone he turned and glared at Jeongin who still sat on the bed scowling at the floor. “Pack a bag for a week. I’m going to drop you off at Yeobo’s apartment. If you give her any problems while you’re there you’re going to be hearing from me. Do you understand?” Chan told him and then threatened him softly as he stepped closer to Jeongin on the bed. Jeongin doesn’t look at him but nods his head, feeling his stomach twist and turn with irritation, anger and hurt pride. He knew you would take great care of him but why did he feel as if this was a prison sentence and not going to spend a week with his girlfriend?

At first it wasn’t bad, you had gotten him set up in your bedroom since your mattress was the comfiest thing in your apartment. You had managed to quickly buy all of the essentials for his time of resting, snacks, ingredients for meals that he enjoyed, enough water and hydration drinks that he liked, and you had even gotten him a heat and cooling pad to help aid his shoulder recovery. Jeongin was grateful for everything that you were doing for him, you had to rearrange your work schedule to be able to take care of him and had to take on longer hours in the evening to make up for it all. 

But after the second day his irritation and aggravation had hit an all time high. You hadn’t let him do anything that involved raising his shoulder and or moving that shoulder too much. Even reaching up to grab a mug was curbed by you and Jeongin was starting to feel stifled and smothered in your apartment. You were everywhere and he couldn’t get any alone time or space away from you. You were there when he woke up, you were there on your lunch break just to “check in on him”, you were there when he lounged in bed before falling asleep. It was getting to be too much for him and he was growing more grumpy, more stubborn, more petulant with you while you tried to ease any of his aches and pains. He knew he was adding to your stress, could see it in the way that you just tumbled into bed after work late every night; could see it in the tightness around your face when he would argue with you that he could do things himself. But he couldn’t stop himself, he saw it happening as if it was an out of body experience that he couldn’t shake himself out of.

By day four, you were exhausted and he was just beyond aggravated now. He could see the bags under your eyes when you woke since you would constantly check his cooling and heating pads during the night. You cooked his meals three times a day and while he knew he should be eating he was too stubborn to eat the food letting it go to waste all because his pride was getting the better of him. 

This morning you were going through the motions trying to be sympathetic to him and get everything prepared for him for the day but today he had woken up with a vengeance that he couldn’t control. You stood at the side of the bed blearily blinking as you got his medication ready for him, you turned to him and he frowned when he saw the two pills in the open palm of your hand a water bottle already opened on the bedside table waiting for him.

”I don’t need your help to take my medicine.” He snipped out heatedly and you let out a heavy sigh that tugged at his heart, he was hurting you.

”Innie, please.” You pleaded with him tiredly but his pride an ugly monster inside of him reared its head.

”I’m not a baby!” He shouted at you suddenly and you jerked back in surprise. “I can take care of myself! Don’t you get that?! I don’t need your help nor do I want it!” He shouted and you blinked at him a few times in surprise, his volume scaring you into silence. “You and the guys all treat me as if I’m too young to do anything by myself! I’m sick and tired of it! I can’t stand it when you do this! I hate it!!” He shouted in your face as he stood from the bed to tower of you using his height to intimidate you. You stared up at him with wide owlish eyes blinking rapidly, he seethed in front of you breathing heavily as his fists clenched at his sides.

”I didn’t mean to baby you.” You said in a small voice while shrinking back from him. “I just wanted you to get better quickly and figured-“ you began to quickly explain but Jeongin cut you off.

”You figured doing it for me was better?! Who are you, my mother?” He hissed angrily at you and you sucked in a harsh breath as tears began to pool in your eyes. Jeongin felt rage consume him as he watched you shrink in on yourself even more in the face of his hurt angry pride. “What would’ve happened if you weren’t here?! Huh?! I can fend for myself for a week damnit! Stop treating me as if I’m helpless! I’m not weak!” He shouted and you flinched back. 

He watched with narrowed eyes as you suddenly straightened your posture and snapped your head up to glare at him and he felt his stomach drop. Your eyes were tired, haunted and now suddenly very angry, almost livid.

“Such a grown man who has to yell and intimidate his girlfriend who’s trying to help him huh?” You snapped angrily at him and Jeongin nearly suffocated with how much his pride clawed at his throat but he could see the hurt in your eyes, the tiredness and he suddenly knew he had pushed you to your limit. You suddenly began walking around your room opening drawers until you pulled out clothes to get dressed into, not bothering to even acknowledge Jeongin anymore. You quickly dressed and Jeongin felt panic begin to form in the pit of his stomach.

”Where are you going?” He asked, still seething and you scoffed loudly over your shoulder.

”If you think I’m going to continue to be disrespected in my own apartment while helping you, you must be insane.” You snipped at him and he felt the wind get knocked out of him, he instantly deflated even as anger stil coiled within him. “You must be out of your damn mind.” You rambled angrily as you continued to get changed in front of him. “All I’m doing is trying to help you. Get you back to full recovery so that you can go perform at your concerts because that’s what you love to do. And all I’ve been met with is a stubborn petulant little child.” You hissed angrily and Jeongin flinched at your words as you kept moving about your room. When you finished getting changed  you turned to him and frowned darkly. “Grow up, Jeongin. And be the grown man you claim to be.” You snapped at him and he flinched once more at your anger, hearing his full name come out of your mouth in anger made his heart clench with shock in his chest.

”Wait-“ he began to say but you shook your head suddenly looking as exhausted as you felt.

”I’m gonna go for a walk before I say something I’ll regret even more so than this. If you get hungry before he comes to get you there’s food in the fridge.” You tell him wearily and he begins to panic as everything seems to crash down around him. “I got my phone on me. Text me if you need anything, but I need to go cool off.” You tell him and then walk out of your bedroom. When he hears the front door close and lock he flinches before slumping down onto the bed, anger and pride still swirling within him but now panic and worry ate at his insides creating a storm within him that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to weather.

When the front door opened again later that afternoon Jeongin, who had been laying in bed trying to get comfortable, tensed. You were back. He could hear the rustling of grocery bags as your footsteps walked into the apartment. As he listened he tracked your movement, hearing you enter the kitchen and begin putting things away before the clanging of pans being taken out alerted him that you were going to cook. His stomach grumbled naturally and he rolled his eyes while huffing out a slow soft breath. 

Emotions swirled within him still but yearning beat them all out and came to the forefront. While you were gone he had worried that he had overstepped and done irreparable damage to your relationship, he was worried that you were going to come back home with a clear head and break up with him. He didn’t want that, he loved you. And now after getting some space from you he could see how much of a jerk he was while you tried to help him recover.

As he listened to you humming softly to yourself he felt the disconnect, you didn’t call out for him, didn’t ask how he was feeling like you normally would after coming home from work. Guilt twisted in his gut and nearly made him feel sick. He mentally prepared to beg you for forgiveness and to apologize like his life depended on it, he felt it was the only right thing he could do for you. It was what you deserved after dealing with his sour attitude for the past four days.

When you entered the bedroom holding a large tray of his favorite meal, Jeongin nearly burst into tears, he could see the steaming bowl of warm rice, grilled meats, soup with the ingredients he always asked for. Slowly sitting up in the bed he watched you silently as you moved to the bedside and set the tray down before sitting on the edge of the bed and looked down at your hands that rested in your lap.

”I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were helpless. I didn’t mean to baby you like the guys do.” You told him confidently before looking up at him. “Your injury scared me, I know how much performing means to you and I just wanted to make sure you healed properly. I went too far. I made you feel like a child when all I wanted was for you to get better quickly so that you could get back to doing what you love.” Jeongin stared at you in shocked silence, you were apologizing to him? “I’m sorry Innie. I’ll try better-“ you apologized and Jeongin reached for you with his good arm and pulled you swiftly into his chest making you yelp in surprise at his movement. His arm wrapped around you tightly and kept you flush against him feeling your comforting warmth, your weight in his lap as he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

”I’m sorry, too.” He said softly. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I just…I hate this. I hate feeling helpless. I hate needing help. But I know you were just trying to take care of me. I’m sorry for lashing out.” He apologized to you and you gently stroked his back.

”I didn’t want to make you feel small. I just wanted you to be okay.” You whispered to him and he hummed softly at your words before gently pulling back from your shoulder to look into your eyes, his eyes soft and adoring as they gazed at you.

”Next time I feel overwhelmed. I’ll talk to you. Like the grown man I claim I am.” He says to you and you both chuckle, the tension breaking like sunlight through the clouds.

”Now eat before it gets cold.” You tell him and he grins at you while rolling his eyes which makes you chuckle. You help him with the tray before taking a seat next to him on the bed. He takes a bite of the food and sighs in bliss before looking over at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

”You’re too good to me.” He sighs out softly and you scoff softly before nodding your head in agreement which makes him grin widely.

”And don’t you forget it.” You say proudly as he chuckles. Jeongin shares his food with you, feeding you bites of it as your legs tangle together under the bed sheets and laughter rings out in the bedroom. The television flickered in the background with a show that neither of you paid attention to. 

After the plates were cleared, Jeongin pulled you close again, this time with no resistance or complaints. Just warmth, love and rest.